#when it finally cooperated I actually had fun writing it

[haikyu-mp4]

Fussy

word count; 1176 – f!reader

Not usually favouring sports, you’re in the journalism club to make use of your great eye for design and writing. After watching one of your school’s volleyball team’s official games last season, you took notice of the boring brochures they handed out with the players’ information. You hadn’t yet chosen what to do for your project this semester and decided to lend your talents to making a better representation of the team’s charms and talents. What you didn’t expect to get out of the project was a date.

You received permission from their coach and captain and set up some equipment to take your photos in a room adjacent to the gym during practice. Hopefully, you can encourage them all to pose confidently. In order to not disturb their whole practice, you ask one grade to join you at a time, starting with the first-years and ending with the third-years. Good luck!

You already know the captain of your school’s volleyball team. Sometimes you wondered if Kuroo knew everyone. The two of you have a lot of classes together and you would be lying if you said you hated hearing his charming comments and finding fun ways to quip back at him. Perhaps you even developed a little crush. So when you decided on the project for your club, you asked him with the biggest possible doe eyes to approve it and help get his players to cooperate. He was more than happy to help you and arrange everything, despite telling you that you owe him.

Fortunately, the first years were easy. Absolute sweethearts that were so excited to show off. You had almost finished with the second-years when you met your first obstacle of the day, unless you count Lev being too tall for you to photograph without a stool to stand on and Inuoka not being able to stand still so most of the pictures ended up slightly blurry. No, this was an actual problem.

Kenma was having a bad day and didn’t want to.

Nekoma’s pampered prince was really not in the mood for this today, and with every pose you didn’t approve of as good enough, he got more fussy. His facial expressions were very expressive, especially now that he was annoyed, it just wasn’t the emotion you wanted. You sighed and stomped your foot a little, looking at him with a slight frown. “Can’t you try a little harder, Kenma?”

“Does it really matter? Just use the first ones,” he complained, sounding incredibly bored.

You were trying to resist saying you would snitch on him to Kuroo like a little kid, but it was getting gradually more difficult. “This project is important to me, I want to make all of you look good.”

“Are you saying I look ugly?” Okay, now he was being childish. The two of you glared at each other for a second before Yamamoto stepped in to yell at his teammate about how a pretty girl needed their help and Kuroo told them to do everything you say and then hurry back to practice. On the contrary, that only made Kenma more apathetic. “I won’t start posing up a storm just because Kuroo has a crush on her.”

You froze, biting your lip as a blush flushed over your cheeks at the reveal. He has a crush on you? Yamamoto started waving his hands as if stressed about the information being revealed, but he only stuttered out a few syllables that didn’t turn into anything usable. You pick up your camera and look through the pictures you had taken of Kenma again, still chewing on your lip as you try to focus on the task at hand. “Can you do this again, please? Last one.” You held up the camera to show him the reference photo and he silently agreed, standing ready for you. You change the angle a bit and do your best to adjust the lighting before finally dismissing the second-years. When Kenma was about to leave, you carefully tapped his shoulder, not really meeting his eyes. “Is it true? About Kuroo…”

Kenma heard his best friend talk about you all the time. Your wit and charm matched his and he was especially obsessed with how you started doing your hair lately. The setter didn’t look so annoyed with you anymore, which made you glad. “Yes. Please date him or something so he’ll stop whining to me about it.”

You were a bit nervous when the third-years arrived, switching between avoiding Kuroo and coming on too strong. How do you act when you know someone you like likes you back?

Yaku and Kai were great, following your instructions and easily giving you several options for what photo to use of each. As Kuroo stepped up to the plate, he talked to you while you got the camera ready and fetched the little stool you used for the first years. “I hope no one gave you any trouble today,” he said, sounding like he would rather have a normal conversation right now.

“Your best friend and I got into it but we came to an agreement,” you said, gaining a bit more confidence as you went along. That made him chuckle, a fond look on his face as he didn’t doubt Kenma would fight the spotlight. You smiled at him before holding up the camera again, making sure the lens was on him when you kept talking. “I didn’t know you had a crush on me!”

Oh, the betrayal. As Yaku’s laughter burst behind you, you watched through the camera lens as Kuroo faltered and his smile fell, snapping as many photos as you could. His face suddenly matched the uniform and his shoulders were sky-high. “Huh?” he said. He was flustered, brain trying desperately to decide if he should deny it or follow the flow. Damn it, Kenma. Suddenly, Kuroo regretted how he had stolen some of Kenma’s snacks earlier. “You’re not going to use those pictures, are you?” he ended up saying, unusually awkward. It was fun, seeing Kuroo stumble.

Yaku and Kai end up throwing in a little comment about being finished anyway and leaving the area, giving the two of you some space. When he came back to the gym, Yaku threw an arm over Kenma’s shoulder and ruffled his hair, giving him a confusing mix of praise and scolding.

Meanwhile, you were smiling at Kuroo as he stepped a little closer to you. “Of course not, they’re for my special collection.” You wiggled your eyebrows and Kuroo finally felt his shoulders relax a little.

“I did say you owe me one for this project, how about I take you out this weekend?” he asked, usual charm back in place along with his crooked smirk.

“That sounds great, Tetsuro,” you agreed, taking a moment to say anything else as you stared at him up close. Your cheeks were burning at this point and you fumbled with the camera. “Now, come on. We have to show off Nekoma’s captain!”

“You got it, boss.”

/please note that Yaku calls Kenma their «pampered prince» in season 4, so that is not me making a nasty comment about Kenma. I just think it’s a very cute nickname that fit the scenario!

the Flyer Series ║ masterlist

/taglist: @cottonlemonade @dira333 @cosmiicdust @nagi-core

[euphoriaslux]

we can’t be friends

summary: you hate vincent. vincent hates you. and yet somehow you end up in his bedroom.

word count: 4262( i… am so sorry.)

warnings: fem reader, smut(f oral receiving) vincent being a meanie, drinking and smoking, disrespect of the french justice system (désolé) me making head canons about vincent’s family life, some mischaracterization of sandra (ily sandra huller)

a/n: folks i was locked in when i was writing this, can you tell because it’s autocapitalized? i was Serious! this was supposed to be like a thousand words and ended up being 4k… i apologize i have to spread my illness (being my obsession with swann). i had SO much fun writing this i hope yall enjoy, all the reblogs on my first post make me all warm and fuzzy. drop some requests if you’d like, and im going to make a masterpost of all the fictional characters im obsessed with bc i’m chronically online. i’ve reread this like a million times so if there are any spelling errors i simply do not see. enjoy!!! <3

You cannot fucking believe you’re going to be late to trial.

Well, actually, you can believe it. Somehow, during the two hours of sleep you got last night, you managed to unplug both your alarm clock and your phone charger, leaving you to blissfully sleep through the multiple alarms you had set the night before. It was only when your cat sprawled across your face, her paws tickling your eyelashes as she eagerly awaited her breakfast, that your body decided to wake you up. An hour after you were supposed to.

Your methodically planned out morning routine for the indictment today was quickly replaced by you sprinting around your apartment muttering curse words under your breath and trying not to trip over the copious amounts of documents on your floor. You nearly cried when your tangled hair would not cooperate with you, but somehow managed to make yourself look halfway presentable. You didn’t have the time to be stressed today, especially because of the attention you know this case is going to get.

And because you knew you were going to see him.

After driving like a bat out of hell in the Parisian rain, violating multiple traffic laws, you somehow make it to the courthouse only one minute late. Jogging up the steps, you push the door open and yell out apologies to the bewildered lawyers and judges in the courthouse as you sprint against the browned hardwood floor, your briefcase thumping against your side in tandem with your heartbeat. Your eyes scan the chamber numbers and you breathe a sigh of relief once you find the one that matched the summons notice, pausing to smooth down your pantsuit set and pat the beads of sweat off of your forehead.

You push open the chamber doors as gently as you can, but you quickly realize there is no use as every head in the room turns towards you, gawking at you. Some have a slight frown on their face, looking at you with thinly veiled pity, but most have a clear show of annoyance. With your head down you speedwalk over to your team’s side of the chambers, pulling out a few labeled folders before you place your briefcase next to your seat. You take a deep breath and force yourself to look up, and right across from you is the defendant’s lawyer.

Vincent is wearing a black turtleneck and a matching black blazer, with effortlessly swooped gray hair and his arms crossed over his chest. He looks perfect, too perfect, in a way that pisses you off. He’s already staring at you when you glance at him, his mouth slightly turned upward as he leans over to talk to his client Sandra, maintining eye contact with you as his whispers in her ear.

“Glad you made time to join us Mademoiselle,” the judge says as she shuffles some papers around, using a few fingers to wave over a magistrate to her right, ostensibly for the indictment sheets.

“I am so, so sorry I-” you start before the judge moves her hand to wave you off, finally sparing you a sharp glance.

“Enough time has been wasted. Let us proceed, yes?” she asks, and you almost start to answer before you realize it was rhetorical. There are a few quiet laughs in the courtroom and you fix your eyes on your folder, feeling like a child who was just scolded in class for sneaking a cookie from the lunchroom. You feel Vincent’s eyes on you but you don’t dare to look up. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

Sandra was indicted, of course. This case was going to be a media circus because of her literary career, and you knew this was not going to be an open-and-shut case. Part of you hated trials like these - when the media would decide an angle that they found the most titillating and not leave a single person involved alone until they got a headline that matched their narrative. Another part of you, a massive part of you, hated working with Vincent. You could just constantly feel the smugness dripping off of him, and with every snarky comment and reply you could sense the anger just drilling deeper and deeper into you. Each interaction you had with him managed to make you even more and more mad. At least you’d hopefully only see him for another couple of months.

five months later

Like clockwork, you stepped out of your taxi to be bombarded by reporters with an endless sea of microphones and cameras, a cacophony of aggressive voices yelling your way. You keep your head down and try to push through the crowd, noticing Vincent talking to a reporter with Sandra to his side. You hear a few words, noticeably about Sandra’s innocence and the ignorance of the defense, and that word makes you stop in your tracks. Reporters are asking you questions but you look for the first microphone you can find and start to talk, making sure to project your voice.

“Judicial integrity is what’s most important to me. Not a narrative, not a story. I took an oath to protect this country. Some people don’t take that seriously, but I do, and that’s what I am focused on.”

There is a sea of follow-up questions but you weave through the hoard of people to the top steps of the courtroom, making your way inside. You arrived a bit early to trial today because you knew Daniel, Sandra’s son, was testifying today. You couldn’t shake the unease you’d had all week knowing you had to cross-examine him, seeing his grief-stricken face as he heard the prosecution and defense make a myriad of accusations about the one parent he had left.

“Were you talking about me?”

Vincent’s voice makes you jump, and you turn around to see him staring at you from behind the court pew. You must’ve had a look of confusion on your face because he then clarifies:

“Outside, when you were talking to the reporter from Euronews. Are you implying that I don’t have judicial integrity?” he cocks his head at you, his eyebrows slightly raised. You shrug, grabbing the manila folders with notes from your bag and putting them in front of your seat.

“If the shoe fits, I suppose,” you say with a tight smile as you sling your bag from your shoulder to under your chair. Vincent scoffs, lightly brushing his hair out of his face.

“Right, I should have looked to the attorney who walks in late smelling like cheap wine for… integrity,” he emphasizes that last word, each letter feeling incredibly loud in the silent courtroom. You feel the heat rise from the back of your neck, both in embarrassment and fury. You take a step towards him and he doesn’t move, your faces only a few inches apart.

“Do you think you’re any better? You took this case because you are plagued with this superiority complex that you have to subject everyone to.”

“Hm, so being a good lawyer makes you think I have a superiority complex, good to know,” Vincent says, touching his chin in mock curiosity. Jesus Christ, this guy irritates you.

“No actually, I think I figured it out,” you say with a laugh, poking your finger at his chest.

“Is it because you used to fuck Sandra, and this is some weird fucked up sort of foreplay that you’re forcing us to watch? I wonder if there’s a tape in evidence, of Sandra telling her now-dead husband how many times you two had shitty sex.”

Your sentence sits in the air as the smirk falls from Vincent’s face.

“Do not project whatever bullshit you’ve created in your mind onto me,” he says, staring at you with an intensity that makes you start to squirm.

“You don’t know me, Vincent,” you turn to end the conversation but Vincent grabs your arm, turning you back around to look at him.

“But I think I do,” he says, and you are so close that you can make out the pack of cigarettes in his jean pocket through his cloak is what’s pressing against your thigh.

“I think you put on this show, that you are meek and timid, but it is all an act. Every movement of yours is calculated. Nothing you do has any underpinning of integrity.”

You feel tears well in your eyes and you quickly wipe them away, opening your mouth to speak as the chamber doors open and members of the jury begin to walk in.

“Fuck you,” you tear your arm away from his grip and walk back to your seat.

four months later

It’s been two weeks since the trial ended. The chaotic hustle and attention has died and reporters are gone, with no more requests for comment or interviews on morning TV filling up your inbox. You were called to the courthouse to go over some documentation that the court needed to provide a final report on the case, arriving late on a Saturday night. You shudder as you get out of the taxi, the chill of Paris air sparing no part of your body. You wrap your jacket around yourself and sit on the sidewalk, taking a deep breath as you prepare to go into that same courtroom. You put your head in your hands and sit in silence for what feels like forever until a familiar voice breaks the stillness.

“Hey.”

You don’t move a muscle when you hear Vincent’s voice, hoping that somehow if you stayed completely still he’d believe you were a figment of his imagination and he’d leave you alone. Instead, he takes a seat next to you, the corduroy fabric of his trousers very gently grazing your skirt.

“If you’ve come to gloat, I’m truly not in the mood,” your say, your voice muffled by your hands over your mouth. Vincent says nothing but you hear him rustling through his pants and then the familiar click of a lighter, and you bring your face up to see Vincent taking a drag of a cigarette. He breathes out wafts of smoke, and after a beat, extends his hand towards you. You glance down at the cigarette and then back at him, and he is still looking forward at the architecture across from you. Plucking the cigarette from between his fingers you inhale deeply, tilting your head up to blow the smoke into the sky. You both sit in the quiet for a few moments as you smoke about half of the cigarette. He doesn’t seem to mind, or at least doesn’t say anything.

“How do you feel?” he finally asks, and you chuckle as you take another inhale.

“How do you think I feel?” you look to him and he nods, taking the cigarette from you. You try and ignore the tingly feeling in your stomach when his lips touch the same part of the cigarette that yours did, with no hesitation.

“Did you genuinely believe she was guilty?”

The question throws you off guard.

“I don’t know.” you answer honestly, bringing your knees up to rest your hands on top of them.

“I don’t often think anything is too personal in a court of law, but that phone call with Sandra and Samuel felt, invasive?”

“It didn’t seem like you had any qualms when you were questioning about it,” he questions.

“Well of course not. I wanted to win.”

Vincent laughs, a real deep laugh, and you can’t help but crack a small smile at the noise. You realize you hadn’t heard it before, at least not before it preceded an insult hurled your way.

“What do you mean, invasive?”

It’s hard to collect your thoughts on his question, and you are suddenly transported back into that courtroom, listening to that call.

“It was like I felt every molecule of anger, resentment, disappointment. I just felt like I was right there in the middle, taking both of their punches. Like,” you take a beat, trying to formulate your words.

“Like I was their son, with no vision of what was happening but so desperately aware of the anger in the air. And feeling guilty that I caused it, somehow.”

Vincent hums.

“I’m sorry with how often I pried, about you and Sandra,” your voice is quiet, and you pick at the straps of your heels.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. The feelings I have for her have changed.”

This time you hum, unsure of what to say. For the first time in your years of knowing him, you feel bad about possibly making Vincent uncomfortable. You’re not sure why. You sit in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before you stand up, brushing the stray tufts of cigarette ash that stuck to your skirt.

“Well, I won’t keep you, I have to go turn in evidence of my defeat” you gesture towards the papers in your hands. “And you have to go celebrate, I presume.”

Vincent stands up as well, flicking the cigarette onto the floor and stomping it out with his boot.

“No celebrating for me,” he says with his hands raised. You smile, and he does the same.

“How will you be … coping?” he asks and you roll your eyes.

“Not sure, probably at home with a really cheap bottle of wine.”

His lips purse as he puts his hands into his pockets. “I guess I deserve that.”

You rock slightly on your balls and feet, not sure if you should walk away from him or not. You’re just about to step out of his way when he starts talking.

“I have a nice Pinot Grigio I’ve been waiting to open, if you’d, you know, like to … join,” Vincent’s voice gets quieter as he keeps talking, and you swear you can see a soft pink hue on his cheeks, but perhaps that was the night playing tricks on you.

“I don’t want to impose-”

“You wouldn’t be,” he cuts you off. “I’ll wait for you out here?”

-

Vincent’s house - not apartment - was somehow exactly and nothing like what you would have imagined. It’s a one-story Victorian-style home with a dark exterior, but the inside is painted a warm yellow with tons of books littering the floors and walls and miscellanous trinkets and birthday cards tucked in between. There’s empty pizza boxes and wine bottles on the kitchen floor, and through his tall back window you can see a mini garden in his backyard, with vines of tomatoes and bushels of leafy greens sprawled amongst the grass. It looks very lived in - you can imagine Vincent waltzing around in the morning, reading his big law books with big glasses of wine, like the one you have in your hand right now.

The two of you are currently halfway deep into a bottle, talking about nothing and everything. The case, bad clients you’ve had before, your favorite pastry shops in Paris, the funny face that one of the Magistrates makes every time the Judge looked at him.

“Thank you for the wine monsieur,” you say with a dip of your head and an exaggerated bow.

Vincent shakes his head before taking a sip of wine, and you notice how the soft pink you thought you had noticed before has turned into a deep red from his forehead to his chest. Vincent being tipsy was such an odd thought to you that you couldn’t control your laughter, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you started to giggle incessantly.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Vincent giggles alongside you, and you shake your head no.

“The serious, smart lawyer is wine-drunk with the person he probably hates the most. I could not have imagined ever being in this situation,” you manage to collect yourself, putting your hand over your chest as you take the final sip in your glass and wave off Vincent as he motions to pour you another one.

“I don’t hate you,” Vincent mutters as he pours himself another glass of wine.

“You’re pretty good at acting like you do.”

He just nods. Suddenly the air in the room has changed, and it feels constricting. Like all of the arguments and venomous insults you’ve thrown at each other has coagulated in this massive living room

“I actually, um, envy you a lot of the time.”

“Envy me?” you can’t help your incredulous tone after his sentence. “You don’t have to say things to pity me, you know,” you laugh, but Vincent’s face is still serious.

“You are just naturally someone people want to spend time with. Even when you annoy me beyond belief, some part of me is always, drawn to you, I suppose. And I envy that. I don’t really know who I am without doing things for others.

You furrow your brows at his sentence. “What do you mean?” you lean over your chair to be a bit closer to him. He plays with the silver ring on his index finger.

“Sometimes I feel like the people I’ve loved, only want me when I can do something for them, you know? I mean, even my own mother, I remember- ” he stops to take a large sip of wine.

“I was almost done with primary school, and my Dad was gone on some inane business trip. I told her I wanted to go to a birthday party downtown, and that I wouldn’t be able to make dinner that night. She got so mad at me that she threw the bottle of wine she’d nearly finished at my head.” He swirls his wine glass around staring into it.

You put your hand on top of his, and he looks up at you, staring into your eyes before clasping his hand arond yours.

“I’m really sorry,” you whisper. He shrugs, and before you can stop yourself, you bring his hand up to your mouth and press a featherlike kiss against his skin. Vincent’s eyes are glassy, and he separates his fingers from yours to place his hand against your face, his thumb gently caressing your jaw.

“Do you have more cigarettes?” you ask, softening into his touch.

“In my bedroom.”

His statement - his ask - reverberates through your head as you both stare at each other, trying to discern what will happen next. Your thoughts are so loud that you’ve afraid that somehow they’ll extend out into the room.

is he saying what i think he is?

And normally, you would say a snarky remark about how he wishes he could get you in his bedroom, and how you’d rather die than see where he sleeps, but the wine has made you slightly woozy and all you can think about is how good he looks with his hair gently sticking to his face and his t-shirt tight around his arms, and what it would feel like to fuck him.

So you say “okay”, and leave your phone on the dining room table.

Vincent opens his bedroom door, moving to let you walk in first before closing the door behind him. He opens his mouth to speak and before you can think your mouth is on his, and he’s shocked for a moment before he kisses you back, your lips melding together. You push your body into his as Vincent wraps his arms around your waist, his hands digging into your skin as he quietly moans into your mouth. Your intertwined bodies make it to the bed and he hovers on top of you, his hard cock pressing against your thigh and you reach down to touch him over his jeans, feeling him shudder against you. You pull away from him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” his voice is a little hoarser than it was before. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” you pull your shirt over your head and tug at the bottom of his and he laughs he does the same, and you admire his shirtless body as he reaches back down to kiss you again, but he’s not as gentle this time. He’s aggressive, dipping his tongue into your mouth and holding your face in his hands.

“So beautiful”, he murmurs, tilting your head so he can suck on your neck and graze his teeth against the bruises spot he left. “So much more beautiful than I imagined”.

Your head falls back on the pillow as you feel his hands reach behind your back and unclip the hooks on your bra, his mouth moving to your breasts and licking your nipples.

“You’ve imagined me?” you pretend to be bashful as your mouth falls into an o-shape, feeling Vincent’s mouth on your chest and his hands on . He moans and you can feel it throughout your whole body as you lean down to shimmy out of your skirt and underwear in one move.

“In every way possible,” he says as he dips a finger down, past your belly button and into your cunt. You’d feel embarrassed at how wet you are already if his hand didn’t feel so good inside of you.

“I’ve thought about what you would taste like, how you would sound when I first fuck you for the first time,” his mouth moves down from your chest, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your abdomen before he’s just above your heat and you sigh, involuntarily jerking your hips up. He puts his free hand around your lower stomach to hold you in place.

“But nothing,” he nips at the spot right in the crease of your hip, licking a long stripe just next to your heat.

“Could’ve come close to how pretty you really are.”

“Christ,” your hands grab fistfuls of Vincent’s sheets as his tongue finally swirls around your clit, pressing just a bit harder as he puts another finger inside of you. You can feel the pressure building in your lower stomach as you and Vincent’s grip on your stomach get firmer as you wriggle under his touch. He groans into your mouth as you start to grind your hips into him, fucking you faster with his fingers as he rolls his hips into the bed.

“Vincent,” you say with a gasp and grip his hair, pulling as you come around his mouth, your head dizzy with the feeling of Vincent’s tongue on you as he stares up at you from between your legs. He pulls his hand out of your cunt and licks his fingers before putting his mouth back on your clit, making you jump at the contact. You hiss as he licks the sensitive area, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you tug so hard on Vincent’s hair that you’re afraid you’re hurting him, but if you are, he doesn’t stop you. He interlocks his fingers across your stomach and holds you into place, groaning into your clit.

“Okayokayokay,” you move your hands from his hair to head to pull him up, your breathing labored as you try to get yourself together. He leans over to kiss you, his lips softly molding against yours as you wrap your arms around his back.

Breathless, you move your hand down to touch Vincent but he quickly stops you.

“It’s- um-”

You look down and notice the wet spot on Vincent’s boxers, and your eyebrows raise to the top of your forehead as you come to the realization that he came while he was eating you out.

“Did you-”

Vincent groans, hiding his face in your neck as you giggle, coming down from your high.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you thread your fingers through his now disheveled hair. “It’s kind of hot if I’m being honest.” Vincent looks at you with a questioning look but you just smile.

“Plus, we have all night to try again.”

-

You wake up in Vincent’s bedroom, with a few strips of sunlight peeking through Vincent’s closed blinds. You haphazardly reach over to his side of the bed to grab his arm, but find it empty, raising your head from the pillow to see that you’re completely alone. Vincent’s clothes that he had taken off during the night and tossed onto the floor were gone. You waited to see if you could hear Vincent in his kitchen, or in the garden, but you were in complete silence.

To be fair, he didn’t say anything last night to insinuate that he wanted a relationship with you, or even liked you. Maybe this was secretly a win for him - he could beat you in a courtroom, and now he got you in your most vulnerable state to declare that you actually felt something other than hatred for him. And maybe that’s all he wanted. You’re not sure why you expected anything differently.

You throw the blankets off of you and find your clothes neatly folded on his desk, and his courteousness manages to upset you even more. You put your clothes on and try to collect yourself, taking a few deep breaths as you walk out of his bedroom and out towards his kitchen. You scan the room for your phone, which you swear you left on the dining room table, only to finally see it on top of a note on the kitchen counter written in messy cursive.

“Went out for cigarettes and coffee.

Bringing back croissants and a capuc- cappuccino.

Will be back in ten.

Go back to bed.

V”

-

taglist: @ghostlytide

graphic credits: @glasvera

[lightseoul]

prove it

synopsis. bakugou katsuki starts acting differently after your last conversation. you finally arrive at an agreement. (part 1) (part 2)

cw. fem!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~24 yrs old), lots of cussing

word count. 3.6k words

a/n. the last part of the series! thanks so much for all the love on the first two parts, everyone! i had such fun writing this <3 again, reblogs, tags, and comments will be highly appreciated!

You barely slept a wink that night.

After that exchange with Bakugou, you immediately left his office, not even bothering to greet his secretary (partly because you couldn’t bear the possibility of her overhearing), and headed straight to your desk.

A feeble attempt at going back to work was made, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you actually got something done.

Even as you commuted your way home and got ready for bed, your brain wouldn’t stop replaying the conversation, lingering especially on his loaded confession.

He still loves you.

What now?

Sadly, just because you're marred by sleep deficit and boy problems doesn't mean you get to miss out on work. You now walk down the hallway of your floor on the way to the break room, desperate to inject some caffeine into your system to get you through the day.

And to help you focus and get your mind off of Bakugou fucking Katsuki, thank you very much.

You’re one foot into the room when it suddenly dawns on you how you consumed the last pod of your favorite brew yesterday (before all the shit went down), which means that you’re now out and caffeine-less.

Fuck.

“Well, don’t you look like shit.”

Mikuri hums from her favorite spot on the sofa, a cup of what you think is green tea in her hands.

“Thanks?” you mumble begrudgingly as you plop yourself across from her, mood growing sourer by the minute.

“What’s up with you?” she sounds amused, a brow quirked in question.

You sigh, smoothing the wrinkle on your blazer you didn’t have the energy to iron out that morning. “Am sleep-deprived and out of coffee. Not everyone can be chipper like you on this fine day, I guess.”

“No, you’re not?”

You sit up, eyes narrowing, “You mean to say I look like shit normally and not just because I didn’t get enough sleep?”

She frowns, “You know that’s not what I mean. What I meant is that no, you’re not out of coffee.”

“Look,” she gestures to the beverage area with her free hand.

Your brows shoot up in response as you take in the freshly stocked shelf.

Weird, you think to yourself.

You were normally the one to restock on that specific flavor, being the only one on your floor who is partial to it.

Unless…

You shake your head to rid yourself of the unwelcome thoughts, willing to crush the butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Mikuri doesn’t get the chance to comment on your unusual behavior because the Performance Management head of your HR team pops in through the door, a grin adorning his face.

“Good morning, boss! See you in 15.”

Yamakawa, the Recruitment head, rifles through her documents before standing up to distribute them to you and the other sub-department leads.

She goes around the room to hand you what seems to be a substantial amount of pages, “Here’s the status report on Bakugou’s new sidekick.”

“Already?” you splutter, gaining the attention of your direct subordinates. You straighten up, slightly embarrassed. “I thought they’re just starting today?”

“Yeah, well. We figured you’d want to hear it,” Yamakawa says as she gets seated and goes through her copy.

“Get this,” she continues, “he’s way more cooperative than we predicted him to be. Moriyama-san, or Water Jet Hero: Aqua Girl, is already in his office, discussing—” she glances at the report, “—battle strategies and joint training schedules as we speak.”

The others hum in acknowledgment as you sit there, still struggling to wrap your head around what was just said.

“And no one coerced him to do this?” Tanaka, the Performance Management head, pipes in. You whip to look at Yamakawa, anticipating her answer.

“Apparently, he emailed Moriyama-san yesterday himself to set the meeting.”

Delighted noises erupt across the room as you stare at the Recruitment head in disbelief.

“This is great news, right?” the Socialization head exclaims. “If we’re talking long-term, Bakugou’s workload will definitely lessen with a good sidekick around, meaning we’ll get fewer angry outbursts and a more decent-to-be-around boss!”

You know they’re making sense, and that this is supposed to be amazing news to hear as the HR department head, but you can’t help the tinge of anticipatory dread rising in your gut.

“Why don’t you seem happy?” Tanaka asks you, before turning to the others. “Hey, why isn’t Y/N happy?”

The unusual events don’t end after that.

To your surprise, Bakugou starts to attend meetings that concern him, instead of the usual—letting Kirishima do all the coordinating with you and your department. He’s even offered to help you with your analysis report on his new sidekick (quite awkwardly, at that), which you so quickly and frantically declined in front of everyone.

You suspect your subordinates are starting to deem you as weird, too.

If they only knew.

Regardless, with each passing day, you seem to be seeing more and more of him around the office, and needless to say, it’s messing with your head.

The always-stocked shelf of coffee isn’t helping either.

It’s gotten to the point where it’s starting to affect your sleep as well, with how much you overthink these sudden changes in his behavior.

In an attempt to get your mind off him and the confusing mix of hope and dread circling your stomach, you start to drown yourself in work.

Ah, your ever-trusty friend: avoidance.

You stand by the coffee machine as it does its magic, your foot tapping against the floor impatiently. You glance at the wall clock, which reads 8:01 PM.

You sigh, grabbing the freshly brewed beverage not even a second after the machine dings.

It’s been two weeks since that heated conversation with Bakugou, and one since your self-mandated oath to bury yourself with work, at least until your thoughts get a little bit less muddled and Bakugou stops acting differently.

“You’re still here?”

You startle from your absentminded stirring and look toward the source of the voice.

Speak of the devil.

Seeming as though he’s fresh from a shower, you stare at Bakugou as he stands by the doorway of the break room.

You eye the duffel bag that’s slung over his shoulder.

“You’re leaving already?”

Fuck, you think to yourself. Now you feel like a creep for knowing that Bakugou leaving two hours after his shift is considered early in his dictionary.

And now you feel stupid for answering his question with another question.

What’s gotten into you?

“Yeah,” he answers curtly, not offering much of an explanation. “What’re you doing working overtime?”

You place the mug on the marble countertop and cringe when it makes a loud, clashing noise.

You turn back to face him. “Have to work on the biannual report.” You shrug, as nonchalantly as you can, “It’s due soon.”

Bakugou grunts in acknowledgment, shifting on his feet.

“Well, thank you for your hard work,” he offers. “And for—uh—helping me choose my sidekick.”

Your stomach whirls in delight despite yourself.

You clear your throat, “Again, I was just doing my job.”

At that, he deflates ever so minutely, so you follow it up with: “But you’re welcome. I heard you’re thinking of hiring another one?”

“Yeah, just to help with the workload,” he nods. “I met him yesterday.”

“...You’re right, by the way,” Bakugou adds after a few seconds pass without you saying anything.

“Huh?”

He looks away, breaking eye contact. “I don’t like how similar we are. But he’s good.”

You have no idea how he knew you said that.

Scratch that—it was probably Kirishima.

Damn that meddler.

You clear your throat again in an attempt to change the subject and drop the conversation in its entirety.

“Well, I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

Bakugou meets your eye again, and for a moment he looks like he’s about to say something, then hesitates.

He opens his mouth ever so slightly before closing it again, eyes still fixed on you, before simply saying: “You too.”

At that, he turns on his heel and trudges towards the elevators.

Once you’re sure he’s out of sight and earshot, you bring your hand up to clutch at your heart, which is going at an alarmingly fast rate.

“Shit.”

You can’t still be in love with him?

“What?!” Mina hops on her feet, almost knocking your glass of iced tea off the table.

“Dude, you’ve got to stop doing that,” you seethe, looking around your go-to café. It’s unusually barren on a Saturday afternoon.

You look back at her, “People stare, you know. And besides, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL?!” she parrots incredulously.

“Just—” you scramble for words, “please sit back down?”

At your pleading tone, Mina finally gets seated, but her pinched eyebrows tell you she’s far from being done with the conversation.

“Fine,” she relents, “but you’ve got some explaining to do, missy.”

You sigh, “Okay. What do I have to explain to you?”

“Wha—” she starts, aghast, “I mean—first of all, why the fuck are you asking me to contact your blind date when three weeks ago, you were practically disgusted with the idea of going on one?”

“We talked,” you shift your eyes away from her. “Bakugou and I.”

Mina snorts.

“Let me guess. You realized you still love him?”

Your head whips to look at her, “Mina!”

“What?” she spits back. “Don’t use that accusatory tone on me.”

“I have the right to use this accusatory tone on you. I have a feeling a certain someone broke her promise about not saying anything about our last conversation with Bakugou.”

At that, Mina visibly cringes.

“In my defense,” she starts, voice raised, “it was only because that cemented how you’re both still into each other!”

You scoff.

“Aren’t you?” she presses, shooting you a pointed look, “Still into him?”

“I—I don’t know okay,” you raise your voice, inadvertently catching a few café-goers’ attention. You sink back into your seat in embarrassment.

“All I know is that the circumstances between us still haven’t changed. And that this shit is confusing—he’s confusing.”

You wave your hand around vaguely, “He’s been acting all weird and stuff.”

“How so?”

“Well, for starters…”

“Hmmm…”

“What do you mean, hmmm?” you ask, exasperated.

She rolls her eyes at you, “Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that he’s trying to prove you something?”

At that, your heart leaps in your throat. You push it down, though, as best as you can. Crossing your arms across your chest, you huff.

“If he thinks restocking my coffee for me is proving something, he’s got another thing coming for him.”

Mina guffaws, and you can’t help the smile that creeps on your face. Once the laughter has died down, though, she eyes you for a moment before sighing in resignation.

She picks up her phone and thumbs out something on her keyboard.

“Well, you’re in luck,” she starts, “Daichi-san is still interested in meeting you.”

You don’t know whether to be annoyed at Mina for ignoring your earlier request to cancel or be grateful for indulging you on your current one.

Not wanting to change her mind, you merely opt for mumbling a quick ‘thank you’, glancing at your phone as it dings with a message from her containing the engineer’s number.

You look around the interior of the restaurant, past the windows of the private room you’re in where a beautiful traditional garden lies, illuminated by the dim orange outdoor lighting.

You chance a peek at Daichi, who is already looking at you when your eyes meet.

Embarrassed, you look down at your ridiculously elaborate main course, finding yourself grateful that you opted for the fancier of your two dresses earlier this evening.

“So,” he breaks the silence as he pours you a glass of wine whose name you can’t even begin to pronounce. “Ashido-san told me you work at the Ground Riot agency?”

“Yes,” you smile gratefully as you bring your glass to your lips and take a sip. “I’ve been working there for a year now.”

“Must be exciting, huh?” he adds pleasantly, “working for top Pro Heroes?”

Man.

You purse your lips together, not wanting to seem stilted by the question. “It is. It can get quite hectic, though.”

He hums in agreement, “I get that.”

Daichi then proceeds to talk about the agency where he works, and normally you’d be kind enough to actively listen and throw in some follow-up questions, but your mind is now drifting towards Bakugou and your last encounter at the mention of the Pro Hero.

What did he want to say to you?

“L/N-san?”

“Huh?”

Daichi chuckles awkwardly, “I was just asking if you wanted some spice on your salmon."

Spice.

Bakugou would’ve wanted some.

Bakugou, you think to yourself.

Bakugou.

“Bakugou?”

You gape at the figure looming over your dining table.

The very man is standing there in his regular clothes that would’ve disguised his identity if it weren’t for his distinct blonde hair and hulking figure.

“What are you doing here?!”

“I need to talk to you.”

You nervously glance at your date, who seems to be starstruck by the Pro Hero in front of him.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something?” you whisper-shout.

Bakugou barely pays him any attention—gaze remaining on you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think an unspoken ‘please’ lies at the tip of his tongue.

You shake your head in bewilderment, or in an attempt to shake off these thoughts—you don’t know.

“Don’t you have the night shift? And how’d you know I was here?”

He exhales heavily, jaw tensing.

“I had Kirishima cover for me. And…” He looks away for a brief moment, before turning back and fixing his gaze on yours. “I asked Mina, and she told me you’d be here.”

You don’t know what comes over you, but at that, you stand up on your feet and stare him down.

“You can stop now, Katsuki,” you hush, wary of your date eavesdropping on your conversation. “Quit wasting your time on me just to prove a point and go back to the agency. You’ve done enough.”

His eyebrows furrow in what you’ve grown to identify as defiance, but he doesn’t make a move to fight back or leave.

Instead, he says through gritted teeth: “I’m not just trying to prove a fucking point, Y/N.”

“Then what are—”

“Excuse me?”

You both whip your heads in the direction of the voice, only to see Daichi sporting a sheepish look on his face as his eyes dart between the two of you.

A pang of guilt courses through you at the sight.

He clears his throat, “Do you guys need a minute alone?”

“No, we’re just—”

“Yes.”

You turn back to look at Bakugou in angry confusion. To your astoundment, he leans in ever slightly, mouth nearing your ear. From how close you are, you see how his Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps before speaking.

His voice is barely above a whisper when he says: “I can’t pretend that this isn’t bothering me.”

You jerk away at the sensation and take a step back, flustered. Before you can even gather your bearing, Daichi speaks up again, albeit quite hesitantly.

“I know I’m supposed to be the one leaving here, but if you want some privacy, this restaurant has a private patio right to your left.”

“I can’t believe you interrupted us like that,” you spew as you step out into the restaurant’s patio, which is fortunately empty except for the two of you.

Bakugou follows behind you, trying to catch up as you speak.

“I just needed to talk to you.”

At that, you spin around to face him, and he halts in his step in front of you.

Incredulous, you stare at him for a few seconds.

“Talk,” you finally command.

His eyes widen in surprise, and you can tell he didn’t expect this conversation to arrive at this point so soon.

A moment passes, but not a single word is uttered. Bakugou’s mouth opens and closes, opens and closes, as he attempts to get a word out but to no avail.

“What, now you don’t have anything to say?” you ask pointedly, irritation bubbling in you by the second.

You wait for a few more, excruciatingly quiet seconds before huffing in defeat. And disappointment—you finally admit to yourself.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you turn on your heel, “I have a poor date to return to.”

You start to head for the restaurant’s back door when Bakugou makes a grab for your hand, spinning you around to face him.

“Just—wait.”

His voice is pleading now, frustration and desperation evident in his tone. You’re itching to yank your hand back, which is getting alarmingly clammier by the second, but you fight the urge.

The pained look on Bakugou’s face is enough to freeze you solid.

This time around, you patiently wait for him to gather his words with his hand still wrapped around yours and your heart betraying you, beating at an abnormally fast pace.

What feels like an hour goes by before he finally manages to speak.

And what comes out of his mouth throws you right off.

“I strengthened our coordination with the other agencies around the district.”

“...What?”

You absentmindedly touch your face with your free hand.

You can’t be having a stroke right now.

Bakugou shifts on his feet, a nervous tic you’ve noticed developed over the years.

Okay, if you’re coherent enough to observe that, maybe you’re not having a stroke.

“I mean—” he scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. “—Shitty Hair and I, we clarified jurisdictions around the area so that the two of us won’t be the go-to contact every time there’s a villain around.”

“I’m still not following, Katsuki.”

He ignores your comment, choosing to continue on his tangent instead.

“And I started seeing my therapist again. That damned hag went on telling me she was glad I’m getting help again like she was my mother.”

You blink at him as the gears start turning in your head.

Jurisdiction.

Less overtime.

More sidekicks.

Therapy.

Communication.

Suddenly, everything clicks.

“Maybe I am trying to prove a point,” Bakugou mumbles, more to himself than you.

“But it’s not just that,” he continues, looking back at you and not letting you get a word in.

“I’m here to tell you that I can’t promise that I’ll be perfect. Despite all the adjustments I’ve made, there are still gonna be days when I have no choice but to prioritize my duties as a hero over you.”

He looks down at your joint hands and squeezes, “Over us.”

“But I’m trying my best,” he declares with such certainty it knocks the wind off your lungs. “And I’ll keep doing so, if you’ll give me a chance to prove to you that I can do it.”

A million questions race through your mind. Why couldn’t he have done this for you the first time around? How is this time going to be any different? Are the changes going to be enough?

But he’s staring at you with such longing and hope and determination that the only thing you can think of is: How can you not?

Dizzy from the revelation and robbed of all words, all you can do is nod in affirmation as the tears you didn’t even notice were there start falling down your cheek.

A sigh of relief wracks Bakugou’s body as he scoops you in his arms, engulfing you in an embrace that has you sobbing even more on his shoulder.

The wet sensation spreading on your bare shoulders tells you he’s crying, too.

After what feels like an eternity of shedding tears and being wrapped in each other’s arms, Bakugou finally moves to unwrap his limbs around you, now holding you at an arm’s length.

Now not in spite of yourself, your hand shoots up to wipe off the tear streaks on his face, which he leans into.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” he whispers after a moment.

Your hand freezes in its track. “For what?”

“For not being able to immediately answer back when you asked me if you loving me changed anything.”

He looks down at his feet, uncertain. “I think—I just—” he stutters, “Fuck.”

You can’t help but chuckle in response, and he looks up at your face at the sound. He’s trying to playfully pout, but you can tell by the look on his face that he’s feeling the farthest from playful.

Flashing him what you hope is a reassuring smile, you reach for the hand on your shoulder and squeeze it. “Go on, Katsuki.”

He sighs for the nth time at your coaxing, the slightest bit of relief flashing across his features.

“At that moment,” he finally continues, voice raspy, “I guess I was just scared shitless. I was paralyzed with doubt—in myself, in my capability to not mess up the second time around.”

He huffs, eyeing you, “Didn’t occur to me how stupid that was until I was walking home later that night.”

You’re about to reassure him when he snorts. “The fuck am I saying—I’m still scared.”

At that, you audibly laugh, running your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him. He visibly softens at the gesture, lids fluttering shut for a moment. When he opens them, you then look him straight in the eye—the laughter long gone, now replaced with a palpable seriousness.

“I’m scared, too,” you say, voice quiet. “But we’ll try and make things work. Right, Katsuki?”

He nods vigorously, hand clenching yours and his crimson orbs filled with nothing but sincerity that all the apprehensions floating in your mind suddenly disappear.

“We will.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @bakugouswh0r3 @poemzcheng @lovra974 @jasmixs @xoneaboveallx @bontensh0e @kooromin @sirenmoi @buzzbuzz-hm @xzsanaa @baddecisionsworld @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @i-simp-to-much @goldenglow149 @fixed211 @zenxvii @roses-arerosies @tiredjuniper @curbstompedrice @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @bkgnotsuma @6423btw @kaeremin @ghastly-san @jasmixs @javochqaa @nnubee @just-ambxrr @idk-sam @dream-walker-cat @kitthepurplepotato @endlessfreaky @myrunawaysweets @bxbyyyjocelyn @smolbeannnn @seabass17 @serendipitous-fernweh @the-weeping-author

[blood-grove]

unnatural bleeding

merfolk au!

previous <- part 5 -> WIP

parings: gaz x reader

chars: gaz, price , soap , ghost

tws: blood, injuries, violence, past abuse, language, slow burn.

a/n: hehehhehehe finally new update :3 got rid of the rude reader tw cuz reader is gonna be annoyed at the world at best angry at worst plus i dont think ive been writing them rudely so also forgive me if the writing pov changes weirdly idk i have a hard time staying focused and consistent ill try better

tags; @chickennn-soupp @cassiecasluciluce @sans-chara @lethargicluv  @kaoyamamegami

What the hell was this place.

It seems all they did was stare at you and when you would clearly get sick of the mumbles and looks you'd splash them and they'd fucking laugh.

They were weird and the Gaz guy was weirder.

You found later his name was actually Kyle and he meant to clarify earlier.

But you found the silly nickname funny.

But this wasn't fun.

Being propped up on a large mat next to the side of the pool the leather felt uncomfortable under you, You also felt way too exposed as a few humans looked over your stitches and wrappings.

It felt weird there hands weren't rough but no one besides a few have touched you like this they were talking about something you'd care less to pay attention too.

As they examined you, Gaz kept trying to pull your attention away from the other humans.

Oh?

Was he jealous?.

Humans are so fickle it's funny.

-

Christ.

Even working with merfolk in the past Gaz still never got used to the bigger ones like you.

Scarface as you've been suitably nicknamed for the moment been alright and cooperative so far no biting or thrashing.

He'd likely guess the wounds were causing you to be so irritable they didn't look good when they first arrived problem had a couple of parasites on them along with other infections that are still being treated.

Price was observing the whole check up process.

You didn't speak much at least not to any of the other staff.

There were a few problems though.

Firstly they found you solo but there was still likely you belonged to a pod but which is the question.

Secondly, they couldn't keep you in the medical pool forever you were wild to some extent it would be cruel to keep you from you family.

Thirdly during your surgery, they'd found a piece of metal that didn't look important it was kept to be looked over in case it helped discover why you were in such a state, Price already guessed territorial fighting but you clearly (no offense) couldn't pick your battles.

Some of these scars and bites could have been lethal.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as you shifted clicking in annoyance he was quick to reach over for another fish from the bucket nearby by offering it up in an attempt to distract you.

"Are all humans this pokey?"

"No Scarface we just..need to make sure your healing okay..Then we can release you."

Kyle huffed as he gave you an honest smile ignoring the glare and grumble he received in return, You still took the fish though idly crunching on it.

They eventually finished the examination without much fuss except for you not so subtly tripping the newest volunteer who honestly should have been starting off with a much smaller mer than you.

But you start off somewhere.

Speaking of which it's about lunch time for them now and his break time, Kyle oversaw you getting back into the pool without much struggle before he left your area visiting by Price to mention he was going on his break before grabbing his lunch and heading to the docks.

He'd usually not have to wait long before they'd show but it'd seemed they were late.

It wasn't long till a familiar face popped up flashing teeth and all.

"Hey, Soap!" Kyle grinned as he looked to see the shark mer propping up his elbows onto the dock.

"Ghost comin'..?"

"Ah in a bit he's still getting his bearings.."

Now he was confused the last time he'd seen the pair and given them there updated shots and tags they'd been great.

The pair were unusual a Shark and Orca together seemed unheard of but yet just a few years ago now when Kyle had fallen overboard during an solo observation trip Ghost saved him from drowning.

Both of them were odd in a good way, Simon having been outcasted by his pod but he doesn't like to talk about it.

He had lots of scars all telling of countless battles of either for his territory or from just fights.

As for Soap, Sharks were solitary regardless but Soap had his own set of scars from fights some he shouldn't have tried starting.

"Bearings? What happended?.."

"Another fuckin' Orca smaller not as experienced grabbed me a few days back, Si really fucked em' up till the bastard clocked him on the head with there tail-"

Wait.

"Jesus , Where is he? I can get a team out and-"

"Ah ye know how he feels about humans..Plus he seemed to be swimming straight.."

"But Soap , He could have a concussion or maybe a facture-"

Soap sighed as he glanced back to the water before back at Kyle.

"Look..You can try convincing em'"

Soap frowned as Simon finally surfaced propping himself up onto the dock as well the wood creaking slightly under the weight of just Simons upper half.

"Ghost"

"Kyle."

Kyle huffed as he didnt even need to say anything as he went up to him giving him a look before he huffed grumbling quietly adjusting himself better so that Kyle could assess him.

Taking his time looking over the newer injuries they had healed well enough fishing out his little hand held flash light from his keychain in his pocket he checked Ghost's eyes.

After a bit of checking Kyle felt satisfied ignoring Ghost annoyed clicks.

"Mm..Now Soap you said it was another Orca right..? Did it come back?"

"Nah..Fucker swam off after bashing Ghost head..Pretty sure I could smell em' bleeding though for a bit till they got too far."

Right this was looking to be way too convenient and fitting to not match up with good ol' Scarface's condition.

"Mm..Alright..Anyway I brought some-"

"Treats?!" Before Kyle could even move his lunchbox away Soap had snatched it and Kyle let out a exasperated sigh not even fighting for it risk of being pulled into the water.

"Jesus Soap my lunch is still in there be careful- And dont eat the plastic!"

[mswyrr]

The reason why lucy/max initially feels so youthful together so far, like kids with a first crush, and why they don't have sex yet, is that they're both "maidens" in a narrative sense:

The Maiden Arc is the fundamental coming-of-age story. It is the story of a character who has left behind the Child archetype (which we will discuss later in the series when we reach the Flat-Arc or “resting” archetypes), but who has not yet individuated away from her family and into her own autonomy. The Maiden represents sexual awakening and conscious burgeoning. Hers is that fraught period—recreated in so many YA novels—when the person is learning who she will become and, perhaps most poignantly, what she is willing to risk to become that person. [source]

They're starting to break away from authority, but they're both still obedient to authority & brainwashing when they meet and start to fall for each other. They're going to separate to dance with their shadows (Lucy with Cooper and Max with the Brotherhood/Dane) and figure out who they truly are - then meet up again.

To be clear, I'm not saying they're in any way actually "children" - they're both adults! But their relationship to authority and community continues to be that of "maidens":

There is no guarantee she will accept the risk. As with all of the arcs, there is no promise she will fully commit to and complete her arc. Although we all grow up physically and assume adult responsibility, the inner arc may remain uncompleted long into our lives. The obstacles the Maiden confronts are vast because true individuation is often perceived as a threat by the tribe in which she exists. [source]

They didn't have sex because it wouldn't have been as their sincere selves? They don't know who they are yet! They're still trapped in a "youth" phase - and now moving into fully incorporating their shadows and knowing themselves & what they want phase. They're only going to get together after that.

And as I mentioned in a previous post, this show (so refreshingly!!) actually includes sex and povs on it as part of characterization - so the fact that they're both "virgins" in a way due to brainwashing--Max doesn't even know his own body let alone what sex is! And Lucy was brainwashed to think of "breeding" as her obligation and purpose - she's only done that and casual sex, never fallen in love and "made love"--plays into why they haven't had sex yet and that, once they're more fully formed as their own people, they will come together in that way.

It's a well written romance arc. A bit of the dynamic where a "childhood crush" couple meets, are separated, and then meet again and falls in love as adults who know themselves and what they want - but in a sped up timeline because they're both on parallel coming-of-age arcs. IMO in the final lyrics "my echo, my shadow, and me" - the shadow is Cooper for Lucy and the Brotherhood for Max and they are echoes of each other - with both similarities and differences.

Side note: even when a canon is writing a romance well... it's still valid and fun to play in non-canon ships because art is for playing and exploring! And I am a multishipper, so please don't bring negativity toward any ship to my post.

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Hi! I hope you’re doing great! I wanted to tell you that I stumbled upon your blog with no idea on what to find. I haven’t even gotten past the third episode of season 1 of TLK, but I’m already obsessed with Sihtric and it’s because of youuuu

I wanted to make a request of Modern boxer!Sihtric x Physiotherapist!Reader. Like, he’s quite serious and rough due to his line of work, but then reader shows up as his new physio and then you can take it from there! With a lot of pining and pent up longing until smut ensues 👀

-💜

Warnings: smut! 18+. Also mention of blood and violence.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

Summary: see the request!

Word count: 6,1k

Note: first of all: WHATTTT, I love how you became obsessed with him already! I did my job well ;) but, okay, onto the fic: I looooved writing this one. I personally really enjoy MMA (which includes boxing techniques) so it was fun to actually write a little about that! But fucking helllllll the line between Sihtric and Arnas was getting awfully thin here for me, which caused me to take quite a while to finish this, because I kept changing things to erase "Arnas" for me. But alas, I gotta leave it as it is at some point. So, thank you for your patience. I hope it's worth the wait.

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @heimtathurs @bubbles-for-all-of-us

'I see the way you look at me during your sessions.'

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

Sihtric Kjartansson. Professional boxer, cocky and overall pretty full of himself. Yeah, you've heard of your new client. You knew more of the rumours about him than what he actually looked like. And you lied if you said you weren't nervous. Apparently the boxer had recently fired his last physiotherapist and you were surprised when his agent contacted you, asking if you wanted the job. You usually didn't work with professional sporters, knowing how rude and stubborn they can be, but taking Sihtric as a client meant you'd have your bills covered for, at least, the next ten years. So you accepted, and he was about to come in for his intake.

Sihtric showed up, much to your surprise, in time. You guessed he recently had sparred, as he had a cut lip and a bruised cheek, and upon seeing his toned arms, you knew Sihtric had a good sparring partner if he had managed to throw a few punches back at Sihtric.

'Sihtric, hi,' you smiled and introduced yourself. He gave you a friendly smile but didn't speak. You motioned him to sit down and offered him a drink, which he declined by shaking his head. You felt a little awkward at his quietness and a little taken aback by his looks. You had to admit you were impressed by his appearance, and suddenly understood why your friends texted you the sweaty face and fire emojis, after you had told them about your new client a few days ago.

'So,' you said, trying to keep your cool, 'tell me a little about your physio history. Any previous injuries or reoccurring issues I need to know about?'

'Not really,' he said.

'Not really?'

Sihtric shrugged.

'You're a professional boxer,' you scoffed, 'I'm sure there are things I need to know.'

Sihtric shrugged again and looked down at his feet.

'Well, fine by me. I still get paid even if we just sit here in silence,' you said and crossed your arms, 'hiding your injuries from me will not benefit you. You will ruin yourself if you do.'

Sihtric clicked his tongue in annoyance and sighed. You watched him brush his bruised hand through his long hair while he clenched his jaw. He already irritated you, but you couldn't deny he was hot.

'My neck,' he finally said, 'I have a lot of neck pain.'

'Thank you for your cooperation,' you sneered, noticing a quick, slight smirk on his face. Taunting him is the way it seems.

'When does this pain occur? After a fight? Only after training?'

'Daily,' he scoffed.

'Daily?' you frowned, 'that shouldn't be happening with your line of work. Did your previous therapist know about this?'

'Yeah, I told him. Every fucking time I saw him,' Sihtric said quite heated.

'What did he do to treat it?'

'Fuck if I know, lady. Nothing apparently.'

'Okay,' you sighed, 'well, then I suggest we start with that problem,' you got up and beckoned him to stand up too, 'stand up straight.'

Sihtric listened, but you still had to slightly correct his posture. You placed your hands on his shoulders, pushing them a tad back, causing him to groan as it straightened his muscles further.

'Sorry,' you chuckled lightly.

'Sure, lady,' Sihtric sighed, and again you noticed a hint of his sly smile.

'Okay, I need you to keep your body still now. May I?' you asked and motioned you were to cup his cheeks.

Yeah,' Sihtric said, after which you gently took his face in your hands. 

'I am going to slowly tilt your head to the right, you keep still,' you acted on your words and you swore you saw his eyes darken as he kept his eyes locked on you. After 10 seconds you brought his face slowly back up again, knowing the feeling was probably unpleasant, but it had to happen.

'You're hurting me, lady,' Sihtric hissed. He placed his hands on your arms, almost making an attempt to pull your hands off him.

'If you do that again,' you said curtly, 'I will make sure you leave here with another bruised cheek. You will not interfere with my therapy and you will not lay another finger on me either.' You felt his jaw clench underneath your hands, and he oddly aroused you at this point. And to be honest, you could take your hands off his face now, but you wanted to make sure he knew you were not afraid of him and he would not intimidate you. So you actually took a step closer and got up in his face.

'You're a professional boxer, for god's sake,' you scoffed as he looked down at you, 'I'm sure you can handle a little physio from me. But if you don't want my help or if you will constantly bitch about it,' you pulled your hands off his face, 'then don't let the door hit you on the way out, Sihtric Kjartansson.'

'Hm,' Sihtric hummed, still staring down at you, breathing faster than before, confirming you did provoke something in him, and he suddenly leaned his forehead against yours. 

You knew this was some stupid intimidation tactic men liked to use, but frankly, you didn't care. If he would hurt you in any way, his career was instantly over, so you knew that would not happen and you felt rather unbothered. Until Sihtric suddenly put some pressure on you, forcing you to step backwards as he continued to lean his face against yours. He forced your back to collide with a wall while he kept using his tactic, and when he had you basically cornered, you were breathing just as fast as he was, and not out of fear.

'Hm,' Sihtric hummed again. You felt his breath on your face as you kept looking straight into his eyes. And after a few seconds he finally pulled away from you and took a few steps back, eyeing you up and down.

'I like you,' he said, his sly smile fully appearing now, 'I'll see you in a few days, lady.'

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

A couple of months had passed since your intake with Sihtric. You treated him at least twice a week, and you had grown to like him. He wasn't a rude person at all, he was just very serious about his career, and it turned out that his previous physiotherapist had nearly ruined that, which had caused him to be a bit hostile towards you at first. As you already expected, Sihtric never received the right treatment from his previous therapist, causing him to constantly be in pain and therefore risking his own health and his job. He only really warmed up to you after a few weeks, when he noticed the pain he experienced was getting less, even when training intensely. After that he opened up more to you and a bond was shaping fast when he randomly told you he feels quite lonely often. He said that being who he is, a successful boxer and quite a rich man, also meant that there were barely any people around him for the right reasons apart from his good friends. But you knew he was not talking about that kind of loneliness. You felt sad for him, as you learned he was genuinely a funny and sweet guy, who had an unfortunate past but managed to create a good life for himself. You liked his company and you admit, you also liked his flirting, so without thinking you invited him over for dinner later that week. He was a little surprised, but gladly accepted and gave you his private phone number. That same evening you started texting and it became a quick routine to text each other throughout the day whenever either one of you could. At first your texts were friendly and brief, but it only took a day or two before things got flirty and you'd often send each other risky pictures, just to tease the receiver.

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

'So, you think you're ready?' you asked as you finished your dinner, looking at Sihtric who sat across from you.

'You're asking me if I'm ready?' Sihtric frowned playfully, 'I've trained for months. Of course I'm ready. I'm always ready to fight.'

'So who are you even fighting?'

'A guy called Sigtryggr,' Sihtric said and pulled out his phone to google him, 'good fighter, only seven loses out of thirtysix fights,' he said before he moved his chair next to yours to show you a picture of his future opponent, 'fifteen wins by knockout, eight by submission, the remaining by decision.'

'Oh, damn,' you said and quickly grinned, 'he's quite good looking. Can you get his number for me?'

Sihtric frowned at you and tilted his head slightly, 'have you forgotten that you belong to me?'

'Sure, in your dreams, Sihtric,' you laughed.

'Oh, I've had dreams,' he chuckled.

'Ew, what the hell,' you snorted and punched his chest. Sihtric grabbed your hand before you could pull back and he pulled you closer.

'You're really telling me you haven't had dreams about me?' he gave you a cocky look.

'What if I had?' you asked, returning the same look.

'I knew it,' he grinned and let go of your arm, 'I see the way you look at me during your sessions.' 

'Please, I am only making sure you keep the right posture,' you rolled your eyes.

'Oh, yeah, because you do that by looking at my ass.'

'I've never looked at- okay, maybe once.'

'Hey, it's fine,' Sihtric laughed, 'I look at your ass all the time.'

'My god, I think it's time for you to go home,' you chuckled.

'You want me to stay over, don't lie.'

'You're so full of yourself, it's unbelievable,' you laughed as you got up to bring the plates to the kitchen and Sihtric was quick to follow.

'Yeah, maybe,' you heard him chuckle behind you as he snuck his arm around your waist, 'but you could be full of me as well tonight,' he spoke softly in your ear.

Your knees weakened at his words and you accidentally dropped the plates with a loud bang into the sink.

'Sihtric,' you sighed, grabbing onto the kitchen counter to hold yourself up, 'don't tease with empty promises.'

'Empty promises?' he said, spinning you around to face him, and he lifted you up to sit on the counter, 'let me stay over and you'll see,' he teased as he wrapped your legs around his waist before he settled his hands on your hips.

'Sure,' you rolled your eyes and cupped his cheeks, 'we both know that fighters abstain from sex at least one week before the fight, and you have exactly one week to go today.'

Sihtric clicked his tongue, 'you just had to ruin it, lady,' he smiled and quickly pecked your lips before he let go of you, leaving you flustered and turned on in the kitchen, before he went home.

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

Sihtric: Just reminding you that you could've had all this tonight. Sweet dreams ;) xx

You opened his text and saw he had sent you a shirtless photo. You giggled and bit down on your lip, hating how good looking he was and how you wish you could've had him tonight. But there was no way you would've let him into your bed, not before the fight, you weren't going to be his downfall.

You: keep it in your pants until after the fight, then we'll see if you got another round in you ;) Sihtric: another round. Ha ha, very funny, so original to say to a boxer, never heard that before… You: someone's a little frustrated he got rejected? :( Sihtric: I'll have my way with you next week, you just wait. You: yeah, if you don't get beat up too much. Sihtric: someone's a little worried about the man she rejected? :( You: ha-ha, very funny… of course I am worried. I don't want to see you get hurt. Sihtric: lady, have I got some news for you… Sihtric: fighting Sihtric: usually gets you hurt You: it's not funny, Siht. You: I've just seen some videos of that guy fighting and you said it yourself, he barely has any loses. His knockouts are brutal… and his submissions… Sihtric: wait Sihtric: you're serious? Sihtric: you're really worried about me? You: are you fucking kidding me? You: you know what You: it doesn't matter, okay, nevermind You: good night xx Sihtric: no, wait Sihtric: hey Sihtric: talk to me, baby Sihtric: don't be like this with me Sihtric: babe! You huffed and threw your head back onto your pillow after you had sent your good night text, not seeing any other message Sihtric had sent you after that. And suddenly your phone rang and you saw Sihtric was calling. A video call to make it worse.

'What?' you sighed when you answered, but upon seeing his shirtless torso you were kinda happy it was a video call.

'What is this? Sihtric frowned, slightly concerned.

'It's nothing.'

'Yes, it is. Are you okay?'

'I'm fine,' you shrugged.

'Baby,' Sihtric suddenly said sternly, which made your head spin, 'I don't want you to worry about me fighting. This is what I do, it's my job.'

'I know.'

'Trust me on this, okay? I will be fine.'

'I know,' you sighed.

'Then don't give me that attitude again, babe,' he said curtly and shook his head, 'I don't like that. I appreciate you caring about me and it's sweet that you're concerned, but don't get snappy with me about my work.'

'Then make sure you step out of that ring in one piece.'

'I will, lady, I'll still have to go for another round with you afterwards,' he smirked.

'Oh, shut up,' you laughed.

'There it is,' Sihtric smiled, 'that laugh is all I wanted to see. I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing you were upset.'

'Well, you can sleep peacefully now,' you mocked lightly.

'And I will. But it would've been even better if you were next to me.'

'Okay,' you shook your head, 'good night, Siht,' you smiled while your cheeks heated up, and you were glad your room was dark, so he couldn't really tell how flustered you were.

'Good night, baby,' he smiled, 'kiss?' he asked, to which you giggled and blew him a quick kiss.

'Thank you, baby,' Sihtric chuckled lightly, and before you hung up he blew you a kiss in return, and once you locked your phone again, you buried your face in your pillow as you were tormented by the butterflies in your stomach.

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

During the days leading up to the fight you nearly lived at Sihtric's house. In addition to his preparation you did extra physio exercises with him twice a day. In the morning, before he went to train, and in the evening, after his last sparring session. And it was always a struggle. You wanted him and he clearly wanted you too, but it just couldn't happen yet. You said he should abstain from any form of physical contact with you, other than which was needed for the exercises, but he claimed there was nothing wrong with kissing. And there shouldn't be anything wrong with that, the problem was just that Sihtric couldn't keep it to a single kiss. He always wanted more and he knew how to persuade you into more kisses. And today you just had your last pre-fight session with him, as it was the day before the fight.

'You gotta stop this, Sihtric,' you chuckled as you sat on top of him.

'Why? You don't like it?' he grinned and brought his hands up to your waist.

'I didn't say that,' you hissed with a smile while taking his hands, and you quickly pinned them above his head.

'Oh, you're the one teasing now?' Sihtric bit down on his lip, 'I never told you how I like that.'

You rolled your eyes at him. If he wanted to be teased, you would give it to him. You slowly leaned into him, brushing your lips over his neck which made him almost growl as you firmly kept his hands pinned to the floor. You knew he could not use much strength on you now because he might injure himself, and that would be a disaster. You heard, and felt, he was enjoying this more than he's allowed right now. So you decided to rock your hips slowly against his as you softly kissed down his jaw to his neck.

'Lady,' Sihtric hissed lightly, but you only gave him a soft chuckle, letting him know you were enjoying yourself. And you continued your way to his neck, pulling the collar of his shirt down so you could kiss on to his shoulder and down to his collarbone. 

'Lady!' he hissed again, heated. 

You stopped and trailed your hands from his wrists to his biceps, over his still pinned down arms, enjoying the feeling of his flexed muscles now he's all tensed up. And you slowly trailed your hands back up again, intertwining your fingers with his before you softly peck the skin between his clavicles, causing him to let out a deep sigh.

'Relax, baby,' you hummed against his skin, 'it's only kisses'. 

You watched Sihtric rest his head back onto the floor, attempting to keep his self control and calm down. And just when you heard his shaky sigh, breathing out his built up tension, you chuckled lightly and dragged the tip of your tongue up his throat, over his fully exposed Adam's apple, up to his chin. And before you were even done you felt his entire body tensed up already.

'Fuck!' Sihtric groaned loud. 

He caught you by surprise when he bucked his hips up, forcing you to let go of his hands and sit up on his waist, where he quickly pulled you down to his chest and wrapped his arms around you. Then he smoothly moved his ankle under yours, pushing your leg to his left as he bucked his left hip up, tipping you over to his right while he held onto you. And before you realised what happened, Sihtric was on top of you, pinning your hands down above your head. You had no idea what just happened, except that you must've really riled him up, so you could only giggle.

'You think you're being funny, lady?' Sihtric said, amused, 'you wish to fight with me?'

'You cheater. That was not a boxer's move, was it?' you chuckled.

'Jiu-Jitsu, lady,' he said with a smug face, 'I can teach you a thing or two.'

'I bet you want to,' you grinned, 'but you forget that I already know a thing or two.' And you bucked your hips up slightly, making him groan when you rolled your hips against his, and you pinned his leg down with yours as you moved up to your side, trying to escape his mount position.

'And you seem to forget I'm much stronger than you,' Sihtric laughed, but his voice was raspy, telling you he was struggling to keep his self control. And as you had managed to fully turn to your side, Sihtric lifted his weight off you which caused you to roll over onto your stomach, facing the floor.

'Shit,' you chuckled, knowing he outsmarted you and had "won". You tried to lift yourself up but Sihtric placed one hand on your lower back, keeping you pressed down to the floor while he positioned himself back on top of you, and you felt his other hand slide up the back of your head, into your hair.

'Gods,' Sihtric hissed, moving his hand from your lower back to grab on to your waist, 'you know this is my favourite position?' he chuckled and tugged your hair lightly, 'Hm, I'd love to fuck you like this right now,' he teased and thrusted his hips lightly, making you feel how hard he was, 'wouldn't you love to be fucked like this right now, baby?'

'Fuck!' you hissed, 'Sihtric, no. I mean, yes! God, I want you like this right now.'

'Yeah?' he chuckled mischievously and tugged your hair again, 'you do, don't you?'

'I do, fuck, I do,' you whined, 'but babe, you can't, you know we can't. You're only torturing us both.'

Sihtric groaned while breathing heavily, and you knew he was considering his options. To give in to his needs, fucking you hard and good on the floor right now and claiming you as his woman, or to control himself and not jeopardize his chances of winning his upcoming fight.

'Sihtric, think about your career,' you said, resting your forehead on your arms, 'you will get your way with me after the fight, but you may not get another shot at the title if you lose this fight.'

'I know,' he said, sounding a little calmer than before, 'I just…,' he paused and got off you, allowing you to sit back up before he cupped your cheeks, 'I just want you as my woman, so bad, baby. I want you to be mine. I really do.'

'Sihtric,' you sighed, blushing as you pulled him closer, 'you don't need to have sex with me to make me your woman. I mean, god, what year is this?' you laughed.

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

It was Fight Night. You already planned on being present at the fight, so you could see first-hand what damage would be done to Sihtric and know what you'd have to deal with during your next session. But regardless of that, he had still formally invited you as his woman. You knocked on his door and his face lit up when he saw you. His coach, Uhtred, had just finished wrapping Sihtric's hands as you walked in, and Sihtric quietly ordered everyone to give him 5 minutes alone. As you waited for everyone to leave you gazed at Sihtric's appearance. His black boxing shorts showed off his muscular legs while he was already shirtless, repeatedly clenching his hands into fists, making sure his hand wraps tightened the right way, and you just loved the way his hair was braided. You had never seen him with braids before, and you hoped this wasn't the last time either.

'Here,' Sihtric said softly and beckoned you over, 'come here, baby.'

He wrapped his arms around your waist as he stayed seated and looked up at you before you cupped his cheeks.

'Are you ready?' you whispered.

'Battle ready, love,' Sihtric smiled, his voice soft and low.

'Just be careful out there,' you felt yourself become nervous as your thumb traced over an old scar that graced his cheek, 'don't get distracted. And, please, keep your hands up, honey, even when you're tired,' you said and kissed his forehead.

'I will,' he smiled.

'And fight calmly. Are you calm?'

'Battle calm,' he chuckled lightly, 'feeling much calmer knowing you're here. Kiss?' he asked.

'Only a kiss,' you smiled before you leaned in.

'Only a kiss,' he whispered against your lips before giving you a long, soft and sweet kiss. 

You melted into his kiss and for a moment you forgot he was about to either get beat up or beat someone up while getting paid about one million for it, win or lose. But if he won, you'd be the woman of the welterweight world champion. But you weren't thinking about all these things right now. Now you thought about how much you loved him.

'I like your hair,' you smiled after Sihtric broke the kiss, to prevent himself from going too far again.

'Thanks,' he chuckled, 'will you watch near the ring or are you staying here?'

'What do you prefer?'

'Having you there of course,' he said and closed his eyes as he rubbed his cheek against your palm.

'Then I'll be there.'

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

Round 6. Or 7. Or maybe 5? You didn't know anymore as you desperately covered your ears while you hid your face in Finan's chest. Finan, you only met him an hour ago, but he was Sihtric's best friend and he pulled you in for a hug when he saw you weren't doing well. And he kind of needed that hug too, Finan wasn't doing well either. Sihtric would not last all 12 rounds, he was showing off too much, you knew it, Finan knew it, Uhtred knew it and his opponent, Sigtryggr, knew it. And Sigtryggr tried to understand why, until he noticed Sihtric had glanced towards the same group of people several times, and then he figured it had to be you. And he was a ruthless boxer, taking advantage of any weakness he could find, and now he knew you were Sihtric's weakness. And he waited for that one split second when Sihtric couldn't help but glance towards you again, checking if you were still there, and as he darted his eyes towards you, Sigtryggr threw an uppercut, knocking Sihtric off balance and making him dizzy for a moment. You had seen Sihtric stumble back while taking another jab to the face before he fell down, but he wasn't knocked out. And then a vicious game of simply throwing punches into each other's faces started. And you couldn't stand the sight of the blood anymore, not even being able to tell who was getting hurt more in the process. And it seemed to last forever until Finan suddenly grabbed your shoulders and shook you, yelling at you to look. And you opened your eyes just in time to see Sihtric, who was a bleeding mess, had gotten back up on his feet and had Sigtryggr stuck in a corner, relentlessly beating into him while the crowd roared until you saw Sihtric got dragged away by the referee. Then Sigtryggr collapsed to the floor and was quickly surrounded by medics and his own team.

And you didn't understand it at first, when you saw Sihtric shout at Uhtred. You thought Sihtric was angry and had done something wrong, causing him to be pulled away by the referee. But then you understood he was simply shouting 'I won!' over and over again before he reached his coach. He was a little closer to you now, but the loud crowd made it hard for you to hear him well. Sihtric shouted something at you, but you had no idea what. You did hear him shout, 'Get them off!', several times while Uhtred tried to take off his gloves as fast as he could. Sihtric kept looking impatiently back and forth between you and Uhtred, who struggled with Sihtric's gloves, causing Sihtric to shout, 'Get them off!', again. When Uhtred finally freed his hands, he immediately climbed out of the ring while taking out his mouthguard, which he flung away before he argued with a few security guards, who tried to stop him as he was hoarsely shouting, 'Get me my woman!' repeatedly. When the security didn't understand, he harshly pushed through them and sprinted the last few steps towards you while he kept ecstatically shouting, 'We won, baby!' until he finally reached you and picked you up in his arms, kissing you as if his life depended on it.

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

After a whirlwind of emotions and hoards of interviewers, Sihtric finally managed to get you alone in his hotelroom. After he was given the world title and received that, quite shiny, champion belt, you found out in the dressing room that most blood on his face came from a busted eyebrow, which was already stitched up by now. Sihtric had pulled you down in bed with him, where you carefully kissed the bruises on his torso and those on his face.

'So, how about that other round?' you grinned to which Sihtric sighed with a smile.

'I'm almost afraid to say it,' Sihtric said, barely a voice left after all his shouting, he chuckled, 'but, forgive me, baby, I don't think I can do it tonight.'

'I thought so,' you smiled and pecked his lips, 'you need to rest, my love. It's already late too, I better get going. It'll take a while before I'll be home-'

'You're not leaving,' Sihtric interrupted you with a light chuckle, desperately trying to make his voice hearable, 'you're my woman. And now the fight's done, you can finally stay the night. Don't think I'll let you leave my side, lady, not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever again,' he smiled and kissed you softly, 'and I might just want that round in the morning.'

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

Sihtric had his eyes closed and bit down on his lip, humming with a smile as you were slowly jacking him off. 

It was early in the morning, you had slept in Sihtric's arms all night and things got a little heated when you both woke up and couldn't keep your hands off each other. You weren't sure if he could handle you right now, still recovering from the fight, so you started off slow, seeing where it would lead. Sihtric's voice was still raspy and almost gone, which you thought made him sound really attractive, and that didn't make your desire for him any less.

As you worked your hand on his cock you slowly moved up on top of him, and he didn't stop you, he just let his head fall back into the soft pillow and parted his smiling lips as his breathing became heavier.

'Good?' you whispered in his ear when you leaned in.

'Mhm,' he hummed, 'yeah.'

'Do you want more?'

'Mhm.'

'Tell me? How far can I go without hurting you now?'

'Baby,' he spoke hoarsely and softly, 'just do whatever you like with me, I'm all yours.'

You smiled at his response and softly bit his ear. You kissed his cut lips gently while you pulled down your own panties. Having a world champion boxer at your mercy had you soaking wet almost instantly, and you couldn't wait to finally have him inside you.

'Been quite a struggle to get to this moment,' you chuckled, teasing yourself, and Sihtric, by sliding your wet pussy over the tip of his hard cock.

'No more teasing,' Sihtric sighed, 'please, lady, I want to be inside you already.'

'Hmm,' you smiled and you slowly entered his tip, rocking your hips back and forth, not taking in more than just that.

'You've been teasing me for a while, it's only fair if I do the same,' you purred.

'Ah, fuck,' he moaned with a satisfied smile, 'you're only doing this because I can barely move my body today.'

'I won't deny that,' you chuckled and lowered yourself onto him, taking in his full length slowly, 'ah, hm,' you smiled, 'fuck, you're so big, babe, and so fucking thick, feeling really good inside me right now.'

Sihtric couldn't bring out anything and you enjoyed watching him struggle to compose himself, not being able to move properly due to his bruises and simply knowing he had teased you for weeks, and now you might get your revenge. And you would. You knew he liked it rough, so you would take it slow, taking your time, enjoying every inch of his pulsing cock inside you. You intertwined your fingers with his, knowing that if you were to place your hands onto his body, he would most likely be in pain. Which made it all the more torturous for Sihtric, who was dying to touch you and feel your hands all over his body.

'Ahh,' you sighed, riding him ever so slowly, 'oh, babe, I could fuck you for hours like this, hm,' you looked down at him and smiled with half open eyes. And you saw how his eyes had darkened as he watched you with his lips parted, moaning softly while he was desperate to flip you over, but he couldn't.

'I'll get you back for this, hm,' he moaned, 'oh, gods, you feel so tight. I want to slam into you so hard, you have no idea.'

'Yeah?' you teased, keeping your pace slow, 'you want to fuck me hard?'

'Yeah,' Sihtric hissed.

'You'd like to ravage my tight pussy, baby?'

'Fuck,' he groaned, 'yes!'

'Hm,' you chuckled, stroking your thumbs over his hands, 'I can't wait for you to flip me over, face down again, and fuck me the way you like it.'

'Please, please,' Sihtric begged.

'Please?'

'Please, my love, please,' he hissed, 'I fucking beg you to give me a little more.'

'No,' you chuckled, 'I like this. I like to see you struggle, I like to feel you twitch inside me, desperately wanting to fuck me senseless.'

'Ah, fuck,' he moaned, 'fuck, please. Please, lady, you're going to make me pass the fuck out like this,' he chuckled.

'You'll get your way with me,' you hushed him, 'like I have my way with you now. My man,' you sighed, slowly picking up your pace, 'my world champion,' you giggled, 'if only everyone knew how weak you are now for me, Sihtric Kjartansson.'

Sihtric groaned and kept throwing his head back into the pillow while he squeezed your hands, 'Come on, faster, baby. Fuck me, fuck me good.'

'Like this?' you whispered, going just a tad faster again, 'you like that?'

'Yeah, yeah, like that, keep going, ah,' he grunted, 'keep going for me, baby.'

'I might come soon,' you chuckled, 'you hit all the right spots with that massive cock.'

'Oh, fuck,' he laughed, 'yeah? Am I good for you? Am I treating you well?'

'Yeah, so well,' you sighed, 'I hope you recover fast from your fight.'

'Hm, why?'

'Cause I want this cock in me every fucking day,' and you hated how you lost your self control, but you had to have him. You needed to feel him fill you up, now. You were desperate for his warm cum inside you.

'Ah,' Sihtric hissed, 'I love how you tighten it all up, baby, you're going to milk me dry like that.'

'Yeah? You're going to give it to me?' you bounced rapidly up and down his twitching cock, knowing he could spill inside you any second.

'Fuck me a little harder, pretty baby, please,' he tried bucking his hips up lightly, and you groaned when you felt his hips move into yours.

'Cum for me, Sihtric, cum in me, fill me up. I've waited so long,' you almost cried out, 'come on!'

'I will fill you up, I'll give you every fucking drop I got,' he moaned, 'I'm so close, keep going, ah.'

And when he knew he was close, you pulled away from him. Sihtric nearly panicked at the loss and his eyes were wide in confusion.

'Don't bitch about it,' you teased, 'you can handle a little physio from me,' and you turned away from him to lay down on your stomach.

Sihtric groaned lightly out of pain, and frustration, as he quickly moved up to you. He placed one knee on either side of you, keeping your legs close together, and he moaned deeply when he brought his cock back inside you. You felt his hands grab onto your hips, pulling you slightly up so it would deepen his thrusts.

'Hm,' he chuckled as he started to slam into you, 'you were relentless with me from the start.'

'Oh, fuck!' you screamed when he thrusted into you, he felt even bigger in this position.

'Yeah, now I have my way with you, huh?' he quickened his pace, knowing he had to ravage you quick before he would soon finish, 'don't bitch about it,' he laughed softly

'Ah, Sihtric!' you chuckled, loving the way he felt, 'I'm so close!'

'Cum on my cock, baby, only then I'll fill you up with my cum.'

And he kept his promise, you came with a violent scream, probably waking up the entire hotel at 7 in the morning, but you didn't care. You were satisfied, in bed, wrapped in a blanket as Sihtric held you in his arms while you still felt his cum dripping out of you. And you hoped he could go for another round later the day, when he had his physio exercises.

[antimatterz]

I really love, love, love your self-aware posts 🙃 That one with Bladie, was perfect!!! (I don't know if sending an request again that soon is okay, but i got another idea!) [After looking at your rules again, i am unsure if this request is okay with u. So i understand, if u refuse]

Listen. What if, Blade and Dan Heng would have some kind of rivalry, while they are in the same team. Like, actually trying to show off who is cooler and stuff.

But after seeing their competition, u just tell them, they are both wonderful and strong boys. (I know their heart would melt at that, hehe)

- Anon K🤪

solve what seems unsolveable

dan heng + blade x gn!reader

summary: it's a well-known fact that blade and dan heng cannot stand each other, but as someone who loves them both, you try to create peace.

cw: humor, fluff, rivalry, self-aware au

enyo's note: it's never to soon to request again, don't worry ! this was super fun to write hehe so thanks for sending this in ^^.

content under the cut | masterlist

these two already have a history together, resulting in quite some tension between them. now, it would be easy to avoid conflict; just don't put them on the same team, bringing their interactions to a minimum.

the catch? they both happen to be your favorite characters and you refuse to have only one of them on your team.

of course you know about their rivalry. it's so obvious. it can't be missed. the glares, the way blade keeps trying to provoke dan heng (and the always so calm dan heng. genuinely looks like he's about to snap), the way they refuse to cooperate in battle.

they're both so strong, equipped with your best relics and all, so together with your healer and shielder your team should be pretty much invincible right?

well, sike, it isn't. far from, actually.

your team is completely out of harmony, as the continuous tension affects the others as well. the rivalry is getting on everyone's nerves, making them irritable and out-of-focus.

it gets to a point where they beg you to kick either one of them from your team, preferably blade because he's the detonater while dan heng just tries to avoid conflict.

but eventually even dan heng snaps, giving in to blade's near-bullying.

something new starts, something that leaves you astounded.

instead of continuously going for each other's throat, they're now trying to prove to you who's the best by showing off big-time.

huge numbers of damage fly across your screen as they each try to prove their worth. with each strike, they surpass each other's damage and you can't help but stare at your screen in awe.

even the rest of your team stands back, watching in utter amazement how blade and dan heng mercilessly assault and defeat boss after boss, hitting insane numbers you've never seen before.

they're getting reckless, though, and it's getting out of hand. their health bars are glowing red since they don't leave any gaps for your shielder and healer to step in.

you know you have to intervene now.

you finalize the battle using the pause button and both dan heng and blade look at you in a daze, confused by the sudden interruption of the intense battle that had them completely immersed.

you lead them away from their teammates because it's about time you have a good talk with them.

"guys, this isn't working," you sigh.

they feel a little ashamed as they see the disappointment on your face, but they still refuse to look at each other. especially dan heng looks so done, having his arms crossed and all. so petty, hehe.

"look, you're both my favorite characters and i love you both so much. there really is no need to prove yourself, nor is there any reason to fight. you're both wonderful and strong and i don't want to feel like i have to choose between you two."

your words surely have their impact on them, especially when you pout at them through the screen. in the heat of their rivalry, they totally forgot to take into consideration how you felt.

"i'm sorry, y/n, i was blinded," dan heng mutters.

"you're confessing to us both? spicy," blade smirks, but his slight blush is so obvious lol.

"please try to work together, okay? you'd be unstoppable."

"anything for you, babe," blade grins, and now it's your turn to blush. okay, he still sounds a little hesitant, but it's a start.

"for you, y/n," dan heng agrees with a small sigh.

an idea pops up in your mind, and you smile.

"okay, and now hug each other," you pipe up.

"what?!" blade and dan heng ask in unison.

"you heard me," you giggle. "everything for me, right?"

much to your surprise, they actually oblige, awkwardly inching closer to each other before hugging aversively. the dismay is so obvious, but they're hugging without chocking each other or beating each other to pulp!

smiling widely, you hug your screen, engaging in some sort of interdimensional group hug. you sincerely hope this is the beginning of a new era, one in which your faves could put their rivalry aside and work together, carrying you through the game with ease.

[sharks-n-bones]

COOPER AND DARNELL ARE FINALLY DONE WOOHOO

Holy fuck guys I'm so sorry this took so long, I had major writers block with these two and I got sick recently and it's been a time BUT NOW THEY'RE FINISHED HUZZAH I HOPE Y'ALL ENJOY AND THANK YOU FOR STILL SUPPORTING ME EVEN THOUGH IT TOOK ME SO DAMN LONG TO WRITE FOR THEM

EDIT FORGOT TO SAY EARLIER BUT A HUGE THANK YOU TO @hauntedghostboo FOR HELPING ME OUT WITH THIS CHAPTER AND THE AU IT HELPED ME OUT SO MUCH

When the flood hit, the twins didn't really realize the severity of things until it reached the village. Prince D spent most of his life in a UFO and Cooper just thought it'd be like every other time the rivers flooded. Both thought that the water would go down in a few days time, and they thought that until the water reached the village. Darnel asked if it was normal for the water to reach the village. Cooper said no

Branch had instructed the village to pack what they could carry and start heading up the mountain, and given that he was the one with the most survival experience, they listened. They made their way up the mountain as quick as they could. The first few days they'd sometimes wake up to the water at their heels. They walked a bit faster those days

Cooper had switched out his “Everything's Good” hat for his “Destiny” hat. Darnell had asked why, and Cooper explained that everything was not good right now. They had to leave the place he'd called home for the majority of his life, the flood had completely washed over it and was still rising, they had to move and try and outrun the rising water, nothing was okay right now. The only thing that was okay was that everyone got out in time and he had Darnell with him

Darnell could understand that. Their world had turn up on its head, and they had to leave everything behind. Darnell hadn't even expa normal flood before, he lived in a UFO for star's sake! So for all of Pop Village to go underwater while he was visiting? He was freaking a little bit. But he'd smiled and told Cooper that they'd be okay as long as they had each other

A week or two of travelling and they were almost at the peak of the mountain, and that's when everyone started building rafts and boats. Cooper and Darnell helped Poppy, Branch and the rest of their friend group with building the ship. They'd brought their hover boards when they visited the village, so they used them to work on areas the others couldn't reach easily. Everyone sang and danced as they built, and honestly it helped take their minds off the fact that Pop Village, and probably the whole planet, was flooding

Singing and building took up most of their time during the day, but it was fun for the most part! Cooper chose to think of this as a new adventure, like when he'd gone to find more trolls like him and ended up finding his brother and parents! Their parents… he wondered how they were holding up during all of this, or is they'd even noticed the flood yet… would they ever see them again? He tried not to think about it

While the building and singing and dancing helped, Darnell still wasn't doing all that great. While building, he kept either looking at the sky, watching for his floating home, or in the direction of where the village used to be, wondering when the water would catch up to them. He'd quickly shake himself out of it though and focus back on the task at hand

It took another couple weeks, but soon enough, everyone's rafts and ships were built and the water was at their heels. They loaded the ship with everything they needed and could carry, the twins helping with bringing things aboard with their hover boards while the other's either gave them supplies to bring aboard or worked on storing things away. Then, once everything was loaded, they climbed aboard and waited for the water to whisk their ships away into the ever growing sea

Once they were actually on the water, Branch made sure everyone got a crash course on survival. For once, Cooper appreciated how prepared the formerly gray troll was for any given situation. Everyone had chores and jobs on the ship. When they came across islands, some would gather supplies like wood and metal if they could find it and other such things for repairs while others would forage for food and collect seeds for the garden aboard their ship. Cooper and Darnell usually helped with bringing everything back to the ship

It took a few months for everyone to get used to surviving at sea, but once they all started getting the swing of things, they had fun! It was obviously much different than the peaceful village life they were used to, and getting through storms was always a bit rough, but they got the hang of things pretty quick with Branch’s help. Whenever they reached an island, they'd gather anything they could before relaxing at the waterside or back on the ship, depending on the preference

Cooper and Darnell would usually splash around in the water or just generally good off if they weren't busy, Cooper a bit more-so than Darnell. However, they still had their moments where they missed the times before the flood. Sometimes, when it was late and night and neither could sleep for one reason or another, they'd sit together in one of their beds and talk until they grew tired, telling stories of things that happened before they were reunited, recounting memories, sharing their wishes, their fears… anything and everything

Cooper told stories of all the shenanigans he and the snack pack would get into in the village, and Darnell would tell of life inside the UFO and all the parties and celebrations. Cooper didn't mind life at sea, it was a lot of fun and getting to explore new islands all the time and enjoy the water whenever he wanted was awesome, but sometimes he'd admit to Darnell that he missed life in the village and how simple and carefree everything was. Darnell knew what he meant. Life on the ship was fun, but he missed his floating home

Everyone got a huge reality check when Tiny disappeared into the jaws of a fish. It'd just been a normal day. They'd finished gathering what they could from the island for the day and were taking a much needed break on the beach. Then Tiny screamed, Guy tried to save him and didn't get there in time, and then everything was silent save for Guy's sobs. It all happened so fast. Cooper and Darnell were horrified — they hadn't even thought of ocean predators being a possibility — but now, once again, the universe showed them through force that the world wasn't all sunshine and rainbows

Cooper didn't know what to do when Guy went gray, and Darnell didn't even know what was happening. He'd never seen a troll go gray before. When they'd all returned to the ship and the twins went Cooper's room, Darnell asked about it. Cooper told him what a troll going gray meant, how they lost their happiness and their music. He told him how everyone in the village had gone gray before after they were captured by the bergens, albeit for a very short time. Darnell was so shocked, he didn't know how to react

The next few weeks on the ship had a somber note to them. They all worked a bit harder and starting working on safety measures to make sure nothing like that would ever happen again. Cooper would try to cheer up Guy when he could, but nothing worked and Darnell told him to give Guy some space to breathe and mourn. Cooper settled for occasionally leaving cupcakes outside his door

They all still sang and danced as they worked, albeit maybe not as often or with as much vigor as usual, but it helped take their minds off things a bit. Everyone was a bit more hesitant to go into the water until Branch made the safety nets so no big fish could get through to eat them. Speaking of the water, Cooper and Darnell had started to notice somethings

- For one, they both loved swimming. Hell, everyone on the ship seemed to, even after the incident! Sure, Cooper and D were a bit more hesitant getting in, but they still loved it! And swimming came easy to them both, which was a bit shocking since D lived in a UFO most of his life

(Cooper wondered if they had pools in there. He'd gotten to explore the place a bit, but not all of it yet. He'd only found his family a month before the flood hit, after all)

The twins had also started noticing their hair changing slightly. Darnell had been the first to notice that it seemed to bounce more when they moved, and how it almost seemed squishy? Cooper had been amazed when Darnell pointed it out, and they both thought it was hilarious

Cooper noticed that their skin that wasn't covered in fur was a lot smoother, almost silky. He'd first noticed it when he and Darnell had gotten back onto the ship one time, both still soaked from swimming in the water, and both immediately slipped and ate shit on the deck!

They'd howled with laughter about it and D had joked that their skin was too smooth to walk on. Cooper had noticed he was actually right when he was showering later and almost couldn't keep his footing. He'd taken a close look at his arms and legs and noticed just how smooth they were. Almost jelly-like… Cooper had laughed at the thought of having jelly limbs and joked to Darnell about it before promptly forgetting about it

It was only after the techno trolls had visited their ship and told them of the magic in the water and the changes it would cause that the funk twins realized that they were actually changing. They had gaped at each other for a bit before breaking out into matching grins

The techno troll had said that, based on what they'd seen, they'd take on the traits and some appearances of actual sea creatures, and Cooper and Darnell immediately wanted to find out just what kind of siren they'd become

They started paying more attention to any changes they'd develop, and whenever they found one they'd run to tell the other. Darnell had discovered they were becoming more flexible when he'd slipped and done the splits without any pain, and Cooper had found that their hair was easier to control. It could act more like another limb than before

Almost 2 months later when they set anchor at another island, the bros we're trying to figure out what they we're turning into when a stranger's ship pulled up next to The Main Course. The funk bros stopped what they were doing, along with everyone else on the ship, to see what the newcomer was up to and if they could possibly befriend them

The troll on board had goggles over his eyes. He wore a vest made of leaves and had teal skin with matching hair that he used to swing himself onto their ship. He'd said he was looking for his brothers, pushing his goggles up on to his head as he did, and locked eyes with Branch. They heard Branch gasp, and the stranger's face broke out into a wide, toothy grin.

-“Baby Branch!!”

[tulipsinthedas]

Just finished binging the Fallout tv show and 🤯 I've got so many thoughts running through this little brain of mine. So here's a very long rant no one asked for. Maybe I'll make a more digestible version later. Obviously SPOILERS AHEAD!!! Be warned!

First off - the lore. So many interesting things were added into the lore by this show that I find so fascinating, as well as theories I've had that were touched upon. All of which makes this very exciting but also leaves me DESPERATE for season two. The main thing that has really stuck with me is the confirmation that Vault-Tec were the ones to drop the bombs like hello??? I've always had an inkling ever since I started delving into fallout lore a good year or two ago that they were behind everything, but finally having it confirmed is so fun. Of course, some people out there are going to be irritated (L take) but this imo will make replays so much more interesting. Same with the addition of ghouls needing medication to keep from becoming feral. Although this begs some questions; what is the medicine? Is it just radaway, or something else entirely? Maybe it's connected to whatever Hancock used to ghoulify himself? Or maybe it's connected to Doctor Barrows' research into ghouls fom Fallout 3? Idk! But I hope it's answered in season 2.

Cooper being the inspiration behind the iconic vault boy mascot absolutely gagged me. It was kinda hinted at even in the beginning at the kids birthday party but I was still surprised. Pleasantly, of course. Other smaller things, like the BOS branding and helmets opening up, among other things, were also fun touches that develop the lore in ways that the games probably never would have. It's small things like this that despite livening up the wasteland, would be unnecessary uses of resources from a game-development standpoint. So I think if season 2 ends up being a banger like season 1, we could see a lot more tiny additions to the lore like this!

Secondly - the characters. I don't even know where to start. They were written so well which is such a critical part of a good series. Lucy, despite everything she goes through, stays true to her morals and by doing so, probably unknowingly, is changing those around her. Despite being stubborn, she's willing to listen and understand other viewpoints and adapt herself. It's so refreshing to see a main female lead who isn't written as either weak and naive or strong and boneheaded; she'd a perfect mix of both. I also appreciate them not making her a total push over, even in the beginning before she is given any reason to change. She grows, but never fails to stay true to herself. Plus the whole sex positive thing is an amazing touch to add as well, especially for a woman.

And while on this topic, Maximus is such a cutie pie. Writing characters that are selflessly aligned can definitely be a hit or miss, and without properly being fleshed out, can be one-dimensional, but I never felt that way with him. Despite trying to help others and be a good person, he still has flaws and does feels selfish things. They took the trope of the knight in shining armor, literally, and gave him actual human characteristics that made him feel real. Underneath his heroic demeanor, he's just a little guy who likes slippers and vault popcorn. Who just wants to be somewhere safe away from war and danger, to be where he can just relax and not have to worry. And his romance arc with Lucy is just way too cute. From the moment they met in Filly I knew something was going to happen and I was so excited when they finally kissed lmao. The sweet, innocent love at first sight thing they have going on is the perfect dichotomy to all the bloodshed and heavy themes going on in the rest of the show.

And finally, Cooper is reviving the inner ghoul lover in me and I cannot complain at all. As a certified Hancock lover, I feel seen ✋ also Walton Goggins is just incredibly fine. But that's besides the point. His character is arguably the best written because despite being an undeniably evil person, he is still likeable. 200 years have turned him into a man who had to lose his humanity to survive, and the pre-war flashbacks being shown through his eyes give him, and the story, so much depth. Despite his ways, you can't help but still feel for him, to still root for him and hope that he still has a little bit of that humanity left within him. Which imo was shown multiple times; for example him not killing Maximus in episode two even though he easily could have done so. And the fact that he's still searching for his family all these years later? When he was asked what has been keeping him going so long, I think they are his reason. Whether he is searching to reunite or to exact revenge on Barb for dropping the bombs while him and Janey were outside idk. But it makes his story all the more heartbreaking. I also love the writing for Norm, Moldaver, Dane, and so many others, but this is already too long ass it is.

Overall, this series was so good and I'll be impatiently awaiting season 2! Some things I'm hoping to see next seasons are super mutants for sure, as well as synths and more of the enclave. I think they went easy this season to test the waters and see just how interested people are. And now that they know people are very interested, I think they'll be more willing to invest a larger budget, and add more. Rant over!

[foxofninetales]

Unlearn the Way of Being Strangers by afrikate, cryptive, fox_of_nine_tales, frith_in_thorns, Hils, Merinnan, mimosaeyes, MountainRose, Onmyo-Jin (silvercolour), rainisfallingdown, WindStainedDreams

Fandom: DMBJ | The Grave Robber’s Chronicles and related fandoms

Relationship: Hei Xiazi/Liu Sang/Xie Yuchen

Rating: Teen

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Action/Adventure, Post-Canon, canon-typical tomb creatures, Injury, Caretaking, Mind Control, Tentacles but not like that

Summary:

Having finally regained his hearing and his health after his Thunder City adventures with the Iron Triangle, Liu Sang is looking forward to a new contract with a new employer. With Xie Yuchen's reputation for competence and the resources he has to draw on, this should be a smooth, professional tomb raid that gives Liu Sang a chance to showcase his skills. What could go wrong? Well, for starters, Hei Xiazi is there.

Excerpt:

Liu Sang wiped his nose irritably; if there was some sort of hyper-allergenic mold down here he was going to be livid–

Oh. His fingers and the back of his knuckles were smeared with something dark, and a flash from his flashlight lit it up bright, virulent red.

"Oh fuck, uhh–" he had tissues somewhere, right? Shit, he’d emptied his pockets when he got doused…

"Use this," Xie-ye said, handing him... was that silk? Definitely too nice a handkerchief to bring into a tomb – unless, apparently, your name was Xie Yuchen. "What happened?

"Nothing," Liu Sang said, reluctantly taking the handkerchief. It really was far too nice to get bloodstains all over it, but it seemed it was that or nothing. "No, really," he added as he held the handkerchief to his nose, catching Xie Yuchen's sceptical look. "I didn't hit it, or smell anything, or get anything in my face, or anything like that. It just started bleeding." He shrugged. "It's just a nosebleed. They happen."

“Did you hear anything before it started bleeding?” Hei Xiazi had materialised next to him, holding up some more standard paper tissues.

That triggered a niggling in Liu Sang's mind. There was something he was supposed to do. He shook his head to try to clear it. The door was open. Right. He needed to map the mechanism he could hear.

"Hey, did you hear me?" Hei Xiazi asked, putting something in his hand. What had he said before? Something about listening?

"I'm listening, the floor's hollow–"

"I'm asking you about the bells, Sangsang," he repeated. "Stop listening, put your white noise in."

There were people on all sides now, the medic, and Mop, and Xie Yuchen was touching his shoulder, and they all had nice, solid heartbeats that he didn't want to stop hearing, actually. "No, no, I'm listening–"

There were suddenly too many hands on him. He felt claustrophobic. He tried to bat them away but they kept coming back. Someone forced his earphones in his ears and turned up the white noise, and suddenly the world felt bleak, like he had lost something precious. He needed to listen. Why didn't they understand?

He tasted some warm and salty on his tongue and his knees hurt – had he fallen? Where was the music?

He tried to get up again, but someone had a hand on his shoulder and he just couldn't get the leverage. Warm, sticky, salty, unswallowable something filled the back of his throat and he was going to choke, off, off, get off–

He heaved over onto his side and coughed, violently enough that his ribs ached. In the harsh light-and-shadow, the ground misted red in front of him.

Commentary:  

This fic came about over on the Yucun Discord when Jin suggested cooperatively group-writing a fic just for the fun of it. Well, you can't go wrong with that DMBJ standard, the tomb crawl, and all of us are whump enthusiasts (in fact , I think most of the authors still lovingly refer to this by its working title, Tomb of Whump) so we set out to make our boys suffer and see where the plot took us. Nine months, 176k words, and a whole lot of hurt and comfort later, the entire fic is available to read on AO3!

Image credits 1 2 3 4

[veliseraptor]

i was forced to talk about dragon age today, now i am forwarding it on to you. tell me about "the best all lack conviction"

oh maaaaan this one is fenders which idk how you feel about, but basically it's the result of me going "90% of the fenders out there is not complicated enough for me, I need it to be messy and slow burn and not one-sided in terms of who is getting offered understanding for their perspective, guess I'd better write it myself!!!" and promptly have taken, what, five years? more? to do that

but I go back and work on it periodically, and I like a lot of what I have actually, though I'm still a long way from getting them anywhere resembling a reconciliation let alone a relationship. but the journey is the fun part anyway so

it's a classic "hostile road trip" setup in terms of plot, because I am the person I am and "hostile road trip" will always be one of my favorite ways of forcing characters to cooperate :D

the title is from "the second coming" by yeats, specifically the lines: "The best lack all conviction, while the worst  / Are full of passionate intensity."

a snippet:

“Mage,” he said harshly. “Are you awake?”  The lack of response suggested not. “Anders,” he tried more loudly, just in case, but that was equally pointless. He breathed out through his nose and rolled him to his back. His forehead was still clear, unbranded, though there was blood dried on his face, probably from a blow to the head.  Fenris looked up at the sky like some help might come from there, but the most noteworthy feature there was still the rift emitting its sickly greenish light.  Rummaging through the Templars’ things he managed to find two healing potions. He maneuvered Anders to a sitting position so he didn’t choke when Fenris poured one into his mouth, and let go quickly when he came awake coughing. “Ouch,” Anders said, when he stopped. “My head hurts.”  “I imagine it does,” Fenris said grimly. “Get up. There might be more of them nearby.” “More of,” Anders started to say, and then started up. “Wait, there were,” he said, and then finally seemed to absorb the carnage of his surroundings. “I missed something.”  “Yes,” Fenris said. “Did you hear me? Get up.” “Okay,” Anders said, and started to stand up only to almost fall over. Fenris had to catch him, but though he braced for the skin crawling, achy feeling being too close to Anders always gave him, it seemed muted, less intense. “I hate magebane,” Anders said. “Makes me feel like a drunk foal, all wobbly and…strange. You’re tingly.”  Fenris gave him a sidelong look, unnerved. “Tingly?” “Mm, yeah,” Anders said. “Sort of. Like…like mint. But on skin.”  Fenris shifted his shoulders and started dragging Anders away, though he didn’t really know where he was going. He couldn’t both keep hold of Anders and hold his sword, so he set Anders down momentarily to wipe his blade clean before sheathing it. Then he pulled Anders up again.  “You’re really strong,” Anders said. Fenris made a noise at the back of his throat. “Stop talking, mage,” he said. “And get moving.”

[tmagpposting]

The Fears and TMAGP

It seems to be a pretty popular theory, or at least a popular possibility acknowledged in the community, that things will function differently than they did in TMA, and our previous categorizations won’t necessarily hold up. A lot of people seem to be split on this, and I’ve seen a lot of other content that positions episodes/incidents in TMAGP in the same framework used in TMA. I wanted to offer my two cents on this issue, after thinking about it for a while now. Basically, I don’t think TMAGP will use the same system for quite a few reasons, both logistical and lore related. Massive (like, seriously series ruining) spoilers for TMA past this point if you haven’t already listened, as well as minor ones for TMAGP up to ep. 4. 

I specifically decided to write this after seeing this post, where a lot of other people have brought up good points in the reblogs. I think we will get something different from Smirke's 14/TMA's categorization of the fears regardless of how much they've actually changed from the previous series, for a few reasons:

1. The fears have probably changed or evolved in some way, especially since the Web (at minimum) had the capacity to learn and plan, and they've already brought about one apocalypse so far. They could've changed from learning from the events of TMA, or just inherently warped from the process of being pulled from another universe and spit back out into a different one (maybe they were altered in transit by being in an extra-dimensional space, or they merged with some similar cosmic force that was already in present in TMAGP's universe when they got there, the possibilities for how this could go are basically endless and I’m honestly so excited). This change could also work really well if it came about because of some combination of the above, since these options aren’t mutually exclusive in the slightest. Personally, I really hope it involves both but highlights the first option in some way, since it'd be really fun for past listeners of TMA to see the fears get more formidable by becoming more strategic as well as see events of that series directly influence this one in such a huge way, and it wouldn't necessarily detract from the experience of new listeners if they did this subtly. Either way, I think it'd be stranger if they behaved exactly as they did in TMA, given everything that happened in the finale.

1.a. Specifically, the fears now have the explicit incentive to cooperate with each other, even if they represent "opposites" like the Buried and the Vast, because all of them must inherently be present in an apocalypse as we saw in TMA. Assuming that it still works the same way, the fears will probably work more in harmony and synthesize elements of each other more than before (even far beyond the Web influencing each in turn) because we've seen that this is a more advantageous course of action for them to take if they want to successfully complete a ritual. This is also supported by the massive amount of keywords the OIAR categorizes incidents with: categorizing incidents using various traits/specialties/calling cards from the original Smirke's 14 as they work together in various combinations would inherently create a ton of different specific keyword combinations, mathematically/logistically speaking.

2. The fears are inherently very hard to categorize as abstract inhuman forces that don't really function in a way humans innately empathize with or like humans think they should. They don't work like gods with similar cognitive processes to humans, like how a lot of avatars thought of them/wanted them to work to some extent, and they're just as willing to prey on non-human life to generate fear and sustenance, just look at the Flesh. As we saw, Smirke's list didn't fully work in the first place, since all the fears had to get pulled through to cause the apocalypse or any ritual would inherently fail, and they functioned less as 14 separate things than as 14 different organs/systems inherently connected in some way by the same nebulous conceptual body. Think of the metaphor from later in TMA with the ants in an ant farm perceiving human hands, eyes, etc. as different antagonistic entities rather than a single contiguous being (i forgot which ep this came from or which character said it, if anyone knows tell me and I'll add it in). Basically, even if they haven't changed at all from TMA, the people of TMAGP could decide on a completely different system of categorization simply because it's arbitrary at the end of the day, given how abstract and nebulous the fears have always been.

3. As several others have said, given that TMAGP is aimed to be friendly to new listeners who haven't necessarily listened to TMA before, it makes more sense to use a new system. This is good for the show for 2 reasons. First, this takes away some of the advantage TMA fans would have in the process of theorizing if everything worked the same way as it did in the previous podcast, especially since TMAGP is more interactive given its ARG element (which I am woefully uninformed on, to be fair, i have next to no idea what's going on with that aspect of the show, and if anyone knows more about how/where to get in on it, lmk). Second, it is actually more rewarding for past fans of TMA to be able to experience this theorizing process in full/from scratch without necessarily knowing major things about what’s going to happen (like how the fears will work), potentially for a second time if they were involved in theorizing about TMA as it was first being released.

4. Having a new and different system, particularly one that is less rigid and more nebulous than Smirke's 14, would work a lot better with TMAGP's emphasis on including guest writers on the show, in addition to working better in terms of the story itself as I outlined in the previous points (at least imo, though I have no experience running a project like this, so this is HIGHLY speculative on my part). Trusting a ton of other people to follow specific rules and emulate Smirke's 14 in a way that feels authentic to TMA, when that was almost totally written and conceived of by Jonny on his own, seems like it would be really difficult to pull off without ensuring each guest writer is also intimately familiar with TMA and/or incorporating a ton of editing and oversight to change episodes to fit better with TMA lore after they're initially written. It could definitely be done, but I think it'd be pretty hard, and it seems like it'd create a lot of redundancy and potentially wasted effort for the editors and producers of the show as well as the guest writers.

If anyone sees something I missed or didn’t touch on, please add on to this post, and if you have evidence to the contrary I’d be interested to see that, too. I’m really interested to hear the fandom’s thoughts on this overall, since it’s an issue I’ve seen coming up in the background a lot lately, but I haven’t seen a post explicitly addressing it yet.

[rocksibblingsau]

i'm gonna be real honest right now, and this is gonna be long....your I'm Gonna Make This Place Your Home fic has had me in a choke hold since i found it like a week ago. it's so good and i love it and i've always loved the Rock Trolls (probably because thats the genre i've gravitated to the most since i was a kid) but i just adore the characterization, the exploration of Branch growing up in a different culture, exploring Branch's trauma. Barb being a big sister, Branch actually having a dad.

just i am in love with all of it.

i have so much i want to say but i don't know how to put it into words. it's also nice to see this one and another fic of Branch being raised as Rock called Burning Branches AU where Branch loses his memory and gets adopted by Thrash. like i don't mind the AU's i've seen of Branch being like half Rock or something but having Branch be in a sort of Cooper situation, adopted into another genre, just hits what i've wanted to see.

this fic has me chomping at the bit for more, and i can't wait for more.

and i will say this as well....Trolls has been a sort of guilty pleasure of mine since i saw the 1st movie on Netflix back in like 2017. it was something that looked like a fun time and an escape from college assignments and i liked it well enough. when, World Tour was briefly on Netflix in like 2021, or somewhere around that time, it was good and i loved the fact we got to see different genres of trolls.

but hooboy! when Band Together got added in like early August this year. i underestimated how much that movie would make me actually want to read trolls fic. and i gotta say i've got the trolls brain worms now and this fic has just been living in my head and rotating it like its in a microwave and studying it like a bug.

i am also the anon that said that So Called Life by Three Days Grace would be a song i could see Branch writing when he finally starts wring songs, and the anon that wanted Branch to where the shirt Val got him of Spider's band the 1st day of school to see his reaction in front of Val and Petra that this was the one who dethroned him at the arcade as a power move.

i also loved the idea of in ch 26 Branch thinking about what his life would have been like if his egg was found by Rock Trolls. i hope that is an idea either you or someone else will explore because now i really want to see that!

This means so much to me. Thank you, and thank you for reading my fic!

Branch being half Rock is a very interesting angle, but I really like the idea of Branch not being Rock but being Rock, if that makes sense. Identifying with their values despite not being a Rock Troll by blood.

Branch being adopted as an egg would be SUCH an interesting world to explore, I definitely have a few ideas about it if anyone wants to pick my brain about it.

[scorpius-major]

#Just sign here

Ft: Childe and gn!reader

Synopsis: in which you summon a demon to stop your family from nagging you about your dating life

Contains: mentions of demons, contracts, and small amounts of blood (nothing graphic). Reader is genderlly ambiguous, but family members ask when you will get a boyfriend. Slight suggestive gestures but not explicit or forward at all (flirty behavior, physical touches, romantic advances)

wc: 1.7k

Final notes: this was really inspired by the book Sign Here by Claudia Lux. It’s a really good book yall should consider reading it! This is my first time is a while writing a full narrative fanfiction, so chill on me y’all if it’s not that good lmaoo. Depending if I like this I might make it into a full series! I’m experimenting with different povs so idk if this is gonna be my default one or not we’ll see as time goes on!

Family events are never fun. Especially when the hot topic always comes back to your dating life. You wish that for once they would talk about sometime other than when you’ll be bringing a boyfriend home. That one uncle doesn’t even talk about politics anymore.

“So when are you getting a boyfriend?”

“Yknow all your other cousins are engaged right?”

If only they knew a majority of marriages end in divorce. It’s not like you don’t want to be in a relationship, waiting for the right person is a solid move. What happens if you “find the one” prematurely and something terrible happens? Like breaking your heart or cheating on you. So whenever it comes up you just try and change the subject as best you can. The most effective way usually is asking your dad dumb sports questions. Questions that are obvious on the surface, but will get him talking for 10 minutes so you can leave.

You wonder how they haven't caught on yet, but then again your personal love life is none of their business. Getting an actual boyfriend seems like too much work. Paying one of your friends seems like a solid option, but your family already knows all of your friends. There has to be some way to get someone to pretend to be your boyfriend.

Then it clicked. 

You remember having seen a really old book in your grandmom’s attic about the occult. Why not just summon a random demon to dupe your extended family into thinking you finally found love? There are many things wrong with that, but running the options through your head it seemed like the simplest. Making a simple blood contract will beat having to meet new people any day.

The instructions were quite clear. Recite a simple incantation after writing your intentions on a blank parchment paper in red ink. All of which had to be performed in a dark room with a mirror on a full moon. The only problem is the only room in your house with a mirror big enough is the bathroom. Hopefully, the demon doesn't mind being summoned into a bathroom. 

The only real negative here would be accidentally summoning a malicious spirit that would haunt the house. But then you remembered you live alone. So what if a spirit inhabits your house? It can’t be that hard to ignore it. That was the last piece of encouragement you needed. That demon is getting summoned.

You shoot your mom a text saying how you can’t wait to introduce your boyfriend to the family.

“I think I’m finally ready to introduce him to the family, we’ll be there for the next family dinner.”

The look on her face would have been priceless. Everybody thinks that you don’t have a boyfriend, and while that is correct soon it will be partially correct. The full moon is tonight and dinner is in two days. There was one thought that lingered in the back of your head.

What if the demon doesn’t cooperate with you?

What if it doesn’t want to enter a contract with you? That can’t happen, right? 

Worst case scenario you’ll just hire somebody. You make your way to the bathroom, holding the supplies in hand. Candles litter around the sink and you light them before the lights are turned off. 

The dull glow illuminates the room just enough so you can see what you’re doing. You pick up the piece of parchment to write down what you want from the demon.

“Allow me to summon a demon here to pretend to be my boyfriend” it’s very straightforward, but it gets the job done. The red ink drips on the paper looking akin to blood. “I hope this works” you murmur to yourself. 

The incantation falls from your lips like it’s second nature. A sudden chill drifts through the air. Your bathroom has no windows, so you conclude that something must be going on. 

The candles suddenly went out, leaving the room engulfed in darkness. Feeling the temperature drop heavily, you lightly shiver to try to acclimate to the chilly room.

A faint glow can be made out from the corner of the bathroom mirror. Two small blue circles standing directly behind you. The candles flickered on again, leaving you wondering what you just got yourself into. “Startled by candles love? Please, that's the oldest trick in the book” a voice calls out to you. You turn around, facing where the blue light is coming from. The figure gives a slight chuckle, seeing your exasperated state. Warm ginger hair and freckled skin can be made out on the being. 

You grasp around the room trying to find the light switch, but before you can find it the lights are turned on already. A slender hand grasps yours, shaking it lightly. “I am the demon Known as Tartaglia, but you can just call me Ajax, sweetie” he shoots you a small wink, giving you just enough time to analyze his figure. 

He’s a little taller than you and has to look down slightly. However, he does have this sort of attractive air to him with a small smile present. “So I heard you wanted a demon to pretend to be your boyfriend. It takes guts to summon one of us.” You’re unable to say anything, so you stay silent. You don’t wanna start stuttering and embarrassing yourself. “What’s your name hun?” Ajax breaks the silence, startling you a bit. You didn’t even notice that he had moved you into your living room, sitting you both on the couch. Are you that entranced by him? Sure he was conventionally attractive, but could you fall in love with a demon? 

“Are you gonna answer me? I don’t have all day sweetheart” his voice snapping you out of some thoughts. “Oh sorry, my name is-“ he suddenly cuts you off by pressing his finger lightly to your lips. “Never mind honey, I’ll just keep using these cute little names” Ajax’s hand goes to cup your cheek as his other hand you a small tablet. “We stopped using blood contracts years ago. We do everything digitally now” gesturing you to go ahead and sign your name, his hand leaves your cheek and goes to hold around your lower back. 

Maybe it’s the touch-starved part of you talking, but part of you wants to lean into his touch more. His hair framed his as he leans into you, frowning slightly at the sight of the unsigned contract. “Just sign here and I’ll give you whatever you want” did they send a flirty demon by accident or did he read your intent?

“I have a quick question.” He hums in response. You place your finger on the tablet getting ready to sign it. “Did you know my intent, or are you just flirty 24/7?” He laughs, not sure if you were serious. You give him a confused look and put the tablet down. “No, we can’t. When we’re being summoned we have no idea what the summoner will ask for” 

Ajax’s Demeanor changes into a slightly darker one as he grins. “Well, what did you have in mind sweetheart?” He leans into your ear, using his taller figure as an advantage. You shake your head feeling embarrassed. “It’s a silly reason really” he looks curious now, and his interest peaked.

“I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend so my family will stop bothering me” 

“Well that’s not what I was expecting, but I’m interested.

You had a feeling that’s what he was going to say. From his actions and suggestive way of speaking, you speculated he wasn’t gonna say no. You pick up the tablet and don’t bother reading any of the fine print. Normally that’s not a very good idea, but you were desperate. With that, you sign your name at the bottom and hand it back to Ajax.

He takes it from your hands and smiles. “Thanks, hun, now I hope you know you can’t get rid of me now. It says in the fine print” Yup, you should have read it. Now you’re stuck with him for presumably all eternity. 

“Any particular reason you resulted to summoning demons to fix this problem?” He was amused, demons probably don’t get many requests like this. “It seemed easy” you replied without a second thought. “Any boyfriendly duties I have to perform for you?” His hand was back around your waist, gripping it lightly. The tablet was gone, and the sun had started to come up. “Well, I do need you to attend this family dinner with me.” 

“Seems easy enough, how hard can that be?”

-

You stand in front of your parent’s door, splitting headache due to the chaos you’re sure is about to ensue. “You remember the story right?” Ajax squeezes your hand lightly as reassurance and gives you a small smile. “Of course, you’ve said it to me a hundred times sweetie” you take a deep breath in and knock on the door with your free hand. 

“Oh look who it is! The boyfriend is here too!” Your mom exclaims, and the rest of the family crowds the door. Maybe you should have warned him how large your family is. “Mama stop, that’s embarrassing.” You swat your hand at her and your dad interjects. “Oh nonsense, your mom is just proud of you that’s all!” He laughs. Ajax doesn’t really do much except smile and nod with occasional answers. He left most of the talking to you. 

Perhaps he likes the sound of your voice. He does subtle romantic things like resting his hand on your thigh and playing with your hair. You’re getting quite used to him and this dinner is going great. On the plus side your parents seem satisfied, and let you two leave without any quarrels.

“So what do you think?” You turn to him after you leave the house. Ajax grabs both of your hands and holds them tightly in his, smiling. 

“I think I’m gonna enjoy being your boyfriend”

“What part of fake did you not understand?”

“Do you want this to be fake?”

Ajax presses a small kiss to your cheek. “I didn’t think so either.”

[naboman]

Pierrot.

Theme: A series of short interactions between bsd characters based on the Italian theater Commedia Dell'arte. Synopsis: Fyodor feels satiated at finally having what he's been looking for in his hands, but it would be a shame if it were taken from him so unscrupulously. Pairing: D.Fyodor + Fem!Reader. Genres: Drama/Tragedy, comedy in some respects. Warnings: themes of possession and servitude.

notes: Fyodor was initially going to be Capitano, but his character seemed more likeable as Pierrot, lol. these will be very short texts, I think I could write several of them at once (if my laziness cooperates). Good Read <3

Yokohama's Ferris wheel seemed an overrated spot in your eyes, but nonetheless very popular with tourists and local children alike. you wondered why for a moment, but didn't let it spoil the ride, not at this point, since it was the only fun you'd been having for the last few days. You opened the city map been holding in your hands for some time, a little crumpled from everything he'd had to deal with throughout the day. If you had some time, perhaps could stop by a tea store and have a dessert you liked, there were very positive indications around where was and perhaps could indulge your palate with a less bitter taste than usual.

Not that you was the pessimistic type, in fact, had adapted very well to your “conditional release”, but it wouldn't hurt to try to indulge himself a little. Perhaps even your companion would like to share some pleasant food to the sound of falling leaves and waterfalls in the background, as a way of wiping the tired look off his face and allowing your some personal space. “We could have something to eat, yes?” You commented in a voice that was a little too meek for his taste, sounding like flattery, yet he didn't complain, he looked up and greeted you with an icy smile. “What do you think, Fyodor?” The sound of his name coming from your lips made him look thoughtfully out over the landscape. You didn't usually call him by his name, it was mostly codenames or keywords, from 'Chief Sad' to 'Little Mouse'. He admits that the latter is his least favorite. Fyodor put a hand to his chin, he was sure what he wanted and when he wanted it, it wasn't a question worthy of taking up his thoughts, but he was much more intrigued by your comobility than by which dessert he would like to enjoy with you. “You look very comfortable,” he hissed, turning to you with a wave of his master hand, slipping it out of his cloak, the cold wind catching him, making some hairs stand on end "for a hostage" A disgruntled groan escaped from you, although you gave no explanation for it, the disgruntled grimace on your face catching the attention of Fyodor, who mumbled a slight “hm” in response to your exasperated reaction. Cosmo-World's Ferris wheel had stopped, and they were now at the top, with the wind scratching the tip of their noses, with the perfect view to capture all the beautiful sights of Yokohama harbor. You was enjoying the view from the top, as you would soon be back on the floor, where the density of your 'Chief Sad' enemies was setting in. “You didn't answer my question” Defeat fragmented out of you like a sigh. Fyodor groaned looking at your defeat. 'Ah, so that's it,' he mused. “Of course, let's do as you wish.” He finally gave his answer, doing your gluttonous, childish bidding. The controlled timbre of his voice irritated your ears, as if he were dictating how far you could go, and indeed, that's what Fyodor did.

“Just know that trying to fill your frustrations with candies won't get you anywhere.” True, as much as you wanted to avoid the facts, you were now just a small bird on Fyodor's big wing, where he was the only one to decide when and if you would fly again. Not that your life before him was exactly a euphoria of sensations, but it was better than being kept as Fyodor's pet. In all his generosity, he hadn't yet made the decision to actually put a collar on you, or perch you in a silver cage to be put on display. “I was just being kind,” You replied. “Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to be kind to me,” he snapped back, ”Your good deeds will be a good memory for me, believe me.” “Well, I expect no less” You winked with a certain charm in his attitude, bringing a hand to his face, as if stroking his cheek "I can consider myself an important person, after all, you've been looking for me" A small smile filled the flesh of his lips, with a certain arrogance. “I've been looking for you for over a century, I hope you recognize how much headache you've caused me in that time,” he commented aloofly, looking at her with a certain disdain, although his speech had an almost resentful tone. In fact, Fyodor had moved to almost every corner of Eastern Europe when he heard the quote from the paranormal with strong psychic abilities, in which he said that his abilities had led to the deaths of more than half a dozen other bourgeois. Fyodor was fascinated. Until his trump card simply disappeared. When he found her, she had been induced into cryogenics, her body remaining alive and in perfect working order just for this moment, only to be put to good use by someone like him.

If that wasn't a gift from God for all his devotion, then Fyodor had no idea what was. “It makes me question how vital I am to you,” you murmured, savoring the words, catching himself glancing indiscreetly at the man, something that, when he realized, you quickly resumed looking at the tourist map ”but, tell me, do you have a preference for any kind of tea?” “You're a notable part of my thoughts,” He admitted, his arms crossing to resume his posture, tilting his head as if it were nothing, his hair flowing down his face with a diagonal movement "Without you I have a chance, but with you I can be sure, as if… You and i would was made for this exact moment in history," Fyodor hummed like a lover, a small smile on his thin lips. “And I prefer black tea, my dear, thank you for caring”

His confession almost made her heated, but you couldn't allow herself to enjoy the flattery of someone like Fyodor. Fyodor was handling her as if he were playing with the food on his plate, leaving her unsettled and soft enough to mold it as he saw fit. If he was close enough to touch you, he knew that a sensitive woman like you would melt into his evil touch, like a buttery sweet. You snorted, shaking your head, pushing away the tide of the man's impure courtship. The excessive frills of your dress fluttered with the movement, like the feathers of a bird about to take flight. Frankly, he didn't even make the effort to give you decent clothes for the occasion. “You don't have poetic license, don't think you can seduce me by talking about these… things, about destinies, and victory. I'm not a... A whore!” She raged, the map almost suffering the consequences of her anger. Fyodor stared at her with a confused face. He found her a difficult woman to please, rather annoying, but your exploits instigated him. If you had been in his right mind (awake) when you was the daughter of a marquis, he would have tried to woo her to make you his as soon as possible. “In no way was it ever my intention be brute with you, Miss [Name]” Fyodor tried his best to put on a face of prompt repentance. “Forgive me for my profanity, I'm afraid I must be punished for my audacity,” he sighed regretfully. “Indeed you should” “So tell me, miss, what should my punishment be?” Fyodor stretched, the conversation intriguing him to the point of amusement him. “You must let me go,” you said. “I'm afraid I can't give you that,” he laughed humorlessly. “Something else. Take your pick.” “Buy me a fruity sweet” you demanded. “As you wish” He agreed with zero hesitation.

[regarding-stories]

Until it breaks: Suspension of disbelief has limits

Nothing deals damage to suspension of disbelief like cold hard facts. Because once the analytical part of your brain kicks in, it's all over. All the Fridge Logic will unravel, and frankly, the enjoyment drains out the watching or reading experience.

Now, I picked this topic because of a recent Lupin III Part 6 episode I watched. Being one of the longest-running shows with endless material released over the course of decades, Lupin III has in general good writing. Or let's say it like this: Typically the authors nail the characters.

Yes, part 6 in general is a highly enjoyable show that can bank on the fact that our main characters - Lupin, Jigen, Fujiko, Goemon, and Zenigata - are well fleshed-out, recognizable characters that you are just gladly along for the ride with and the general fun factor of the show ensures that you merely experience the differing quality of episodes as minor ups and downs along the journey.

There are exceptions, though.

When it holds

Lupin III is basically revived as "parts," where each part could be considered a big season. I'm currently watching Part 4, and several episodes definitely have the quality of Fridge Logic - you might question things after the episode finishes, but you're basically okay with how things unfold while they still do.

One episode, hitting that slightly noir vibe, focuses on Inspector Zenigata, Lupin's eternal complement.

The show aired almost ten years ago, so forgive me for spoilers.

The basic plot of the episode "Until the Full Moon Wanes" revolves around every scoundrel in the world believing that the widow of a media mogul sits on a huge hidden fortune because her husband seeded the rumor before he died. The first climax of the episode seems to be convincing the world that this was indeed a lie - a cooperation between Lupin and Zenigata. In the denouement we learn that the fortune actually exists and the widow wanted potential thieves off her back, Lupin shows up to steal it and is finally thwarted by Zenigata.

The episode really revolves about human folly, with a media mogul rescuing a girl from sexual violence, taking her as his beloved wife, then completely scorning her when she cheats on him once - including marking her body. This theme of scorn beyond the grave and its somewhat noir vibe playing on human passion and the unreliability of love and character are enough to keep us entertained until we get our inevitable finale.

I'd say this one stretches suspension of disbelief but doesn't break it. Though it raises questions - even if she had a huge fortune hidden, wouldn't it be easier to own it, hire guards, and just enjoy it? Furthermore, how did Lupin and his gang intend to steal the fortune?It's gold. It weighs tons and tons. (And yes, it's enough gold to be considered the reserves of a country. Did the author not watch "Die Hard with a Vengeance"?) It's also stacked in the most stupid way possible to impress the audience. Once you start to think about it, the story unravels and falls apart. But I'd bet while it goes on with its (somewhat forced) twists and turns, you're willing to follow it.

When it breaks

There are, however, some episodes too stupid to live, and so far the unrivaled king of the trash heap is "The Jet-Black Diamond". I'll spoiler this one so you don't have to watch it.

So, some small wooden dolls are somehow supposed to lead to a treasure. But the story makes no sense, no matter which way you look at it.

The central theme behind the treasure hunt is supposedly a love story. A somehow Japanese woman in Brazil falls in love with a pirate who basically sacks her village but spares her. (Because seeing people die you spent your life with is conducive to romance. Maybe she had Stockholm Syndrome.) They know they have little time so they concoct a plan to hide some treasure and meet again. Which never happens because the pirate gets executed shortly after and she commits suicide.

This might make sense on the surface but just wait for the rest...

The clues they leave lead to a cashew tree with magical red glowing flowers that only blossoms every 75 years. The biological facts themselves are mindboggling - how does it benefit the damn tree to blossom only every 75 years? And how is it so exact over such a long period of time?? And why is everyone showing up at the right time to see it???

Breathe. Slow, deep breaths.

So this basically means they planned to meet again when they were around a hundred. Instead of, you know, like five years later.

Then... piracy in the Caribbean and around South America was a phenomenon largely limited to the 16th and 17th centuries, with stragglers hanging on until the 18th century. Steam vessels and larger national navies ended it for good in the 19th century. (To put it very roughly.) The episode itself can be assumed to be set in 2021 when Part 6 aired. So, are we to assume that old-fashioned piracy occurred in Brazil in the mid of the 20th century? The age of airplanes and nuclear bombs? (Piracy persists but is a rather local phenomenon in the world, relying on quick hit-and-run raids.)

What is the treasure, actually? Pepper. Some special pepper, that supposedly ended up making the village prosperous. This is probably an allusion to the times when pepper was still highly valuable, something which was maybe true up to the 17th century (as a little research shows).

What we really have here is an author shoe-horning a pirate story into Lupin III, and somehow trying to tie it to a love story and a living relative. (Instead of a long-lost pirate treasure.) But frankly, the whole thing fails over and over again. The finale is devoid of any logic. Even the dolls are somehow important because their patterns help identify the tree by its blossom patterns. The only tree blooming in that particular year, looking entirely magical and obvious BY ITSELF!!

(Also some young local thugs show up to gang up on the old lady and her company because everybody thinks about the ages old treasure all the time and so the arrival of a Japanese lady is clearly stirring up the area.)

To make the offense even worse, just when the story focuses on Fujiko being in the lead for quite a while, Lupin shows up as a drone projecting a hologram acting as Captain Exposition, stealing her thunder. They couldn't be arsed to write him in properly, but they couldn't leave him off-screen for five minutes or have somebody else have the spotlight. Wow, that was horrible writing altogether.

And here we have it - it qualifies as a story. It's tied together by a plot. Events happen, characters appear, and the same mixture of twists and turns and a lack of treasure at the end (for Lupin or Fujiko) appears, but it doesn't work. You could be forgiven for not knowing about the history of piracy, but the notion of a tree with such magical properties is not a twist to a story, it's a ridiculous device meant to introduce one twist too many to a poorly written story.

Because for some reason the author was so focused on thwarting the thieves so much he had to set up an entirely unbelievable gotcha even for Lupin standards. A show where people evade bullets near point blank range or where eating a steak can restore Lupin's blood loss within hours. It's actually quite the accomplishment!