#(i think he's covering for what he considers 'squeamishness')
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T + X from the post!
T: Any fandom tropes you can't stand?
Honestly, not that I can think of? There are some where my bar for execution quality is higher, and a few where it’s extremely high, but I can’t think of any I hate that aren’t just “the failure mode of a wider trope.”
… I don’t like mundane modern AUs, as a category? I read basically entirely SFF, if you take the characters out of their interesting worldbuilding and make them people I could meet irl I lose interest. But my dislike lessens if they’re given a profession that interests me and the author goes into detail on it. I’ve read a couple actor AUs good enough for me to enjoy them, for example. But I do not want the coffee shops or the florists or the ice skating or the high schools. I would like them to go elsewhere. And I am not entirely on board with college AUs, either.
When it comes to fandom-specific tropes, though… yeah, some of those I hate.
Any interpretation of the Star Wars ‘verse that makes you sound like Kreia will drive me up a wall fast. Any plot that involves “reform the Jedi Order by letting people ~love~” will lose me. On the other hand, if you write Jedi behaving callously (usually with bad teaching methods) and then go “and they’re right,” I will not consider that fascinating societal worldbuilding or a good point about how The Light Requires Effort, I will want to throw your fic at the wall.
Also, “the person you are as a darksider is not actually you” makes me yell incoherently. The dark side doesn’t brainwash you—yes, except when it does because you poked a Sith artifact or got possessed by a ghost or were captured and had your mind turned inside out or something, but those are different because an actual specific entity did it. The dark side does not brainwash you. Whatever you do with it was already there.
X: A character you enjoy making suffer.
That… might be most of them. I’m not a fluffy author, uh, at all. >_>;;
Though, hm. For most of them, I like making them suffer because it makes the story interesting, not because I enjoy the suffering—the only one I can really say I want to make suffer to make suffer is Orinara. Because she is being an awful Sith brat and it will be so fun to hit her with the clue-by-four of character development. :D
… I mean, that serves a narrative purpose too! But the others don’t deserve the suffering. It’s just where the story is. Orinara, meanwhile, has some likability debt to pay, especially after the whole “they’re just levy soldiers, zie can get more” thing. Like… Orinara, I love you, you’re a terrifying true believer who is ultimately going to strive for your ideals above all else, but right now? You are an entitled little Sithlet. You are an entitled little Sithlet and that means I get to hit you with so many sticks.
[fanfic ask game]
#orinara gets better! but… she has been raised in this.#i mean dear stars#she doesn't know *anyone* who isn't another sith at the start of her arc#her interactions with Normal People have been limited to random imperials doing their jobs and other people's servants#(zahoin—her father—uses droids. he claims it's because living servants can be mind tricked but honestly)#(i think he's covering for what he considers 'squeamishness')#(he doesn't… *like* being around people who are unhappy. or terrified of him. he considers this something of a secret weakness.)#but anyway. vette is in some ways her first actual real *friend*#vanyas kind of counts but there's still that 'only friends because she can't be a threat to them' thing hanging over it#and the human sith she met at Evil Prep School were all… well.#being a legitimized bastard made her lower-status and her somewhat terrifying amount of power made her a threat#she wasn't bullied—you can't exactly *bully* the most powerful kid in school—but that's not the same thing as being *liked*#unfortunately her method of handling this was to decide she should ignore the concept of self-doubt entirely#she's arrogant and self-absorbed and bloodthirsty and also deeply *desperately* lonely#and i can will and must hit her upside the head with character development#because i love her#asks#oc: orinara izarae
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What's ur fav piece of trivia for every* character?
(*or at least as much as you can recall off the top of ur head)
my favorite trivia for characters is usually just whatever i think is funniest so just keep that in mind. that's not always the case but you might see it become a pattern. oh the other thing is whatever is most soul-crushing so yeah.
Ichika - either the fact her name comes from how her parents met (because i think it's really sweet) or that she accidentally discovered miku when she was watching videos on her dad's tablet and opened a recording of a miku concert
Saki - she used to listen to the song Time Machine when she was in hospital (at Ichika's recommendation) to remind her of family and friends. It's the in-universe reason why she is featured on the cover. This is actually one of my favorite facts in the game overall.
Honami - she is surprisingly good at flirting
Shiho - not one I've posted before, but in Run! Sports Festival! she couldn't bring herself to throw any of the balls in the ball toss because they had cute animal designs on them
Minori - she once passed out because Haruka wished her happy birthday.
Haruka - she likes penguins because she thinks the way they waddle is cute and she likes how round a lot of penguin merch is
Airi - she followed all of Shizuku's campaigns and bought all the magazines she was featured in when she was still a member of Cheerful*Days. She insists it was just research.
Shizuku - either that she usually has a thermos of miso soup on her to eat after practice or archery club or that she isn't good at texting. i haven't posted either of these before
Kohane - again one I haven't posted yet, but her favorite photo she's taken of Count Pearl is one of Pearl eating mice. the rest of VBS are surprised that she isn't squeamish about that sort of thing (i dunno what they're talking about that sounds like a very cool photo).
An - the possible symbolism of the black stripe on her new school cardigan. hello to the person who submitted that i am still not over it.
Akito - in Cinema he's the only person to sing solo during the first two choruses, the others don't get solo parts in the chorus until the end of the song. i think about this one a lot actually
Toya - he can't swim
Tsukasa - he's the comedic relief and there's a lot of really random shit i know about him because of that, so my favorite fact about him is whatever will have the most impact in the moment if i were to mention it out of nowhere. for a less vague answer, this one although i consider it to be one of my worst posts
Emu - she's very good at replicating cartoon faces. i like this one because it raises a few questions about whether the L2Ds are still exaggerated or if she just looks like that and no one questions that she actually has a cartoon face. what if project sekai ends with them all becoming self-aware.
Nene - either the fact that she thinks the forest has good graphics or that she called rui's mom "auntie" when she was younger because i think it's cute.
Rui - i like a good reference and i appreciate that he sometimes references famous people and media.
Kanade - she's left handed. i also like that her family name was made up specifically to contrast with the rest of N25.
Mafuyu - either that it's shown one time that she can see ghosts and then it's never brought up or referenced again, or that the "mom's cooking" listed as her favorite food might refer to the bunny-shaped apple slices her mother would make for her when she was a kid. i also like the detail that her eyes being two-tone is because she inherited the eye colors of both her parents.
Ena - twitter user. also despite loving cheesecake, she doesn't like cheese. girl what the hell.
Mizuki - they started out editing by making AMVs for a magical girl anime they liked. Amia comes from the name of a character from that anime. also did you know they put ice cubes in noodles because of their sensitive tongue. ice cubes.
Bonus - some side character stuff I like
Kotaro's favorite food is strawberries but he doesn't like strawberry flavored things for whatever reason
Asahi and Sakurako's family names are Chinese mythology references
Tatsuya's hobbies are motorbiking and fishing. these are not things you expect to go together
Nagi hated tomatoes but she would eat them in front of An
Iori hates spicy food, whilst Mio's favorite food is super spicy ramen. Meanwhile Mio doesn't like cream, but Iori likes crepes (which usually have cream on them).
Souma started listening to foreign music after Arata left for America
gbr i forgot about the vocaloids for a second but before i call it a day i think it's incredibly funny that Len cannot reach the stools in crase cafe.
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🌼anon here!(sorry for the multiple asks today idk maybe I'm ovulating) between maxoscar,landoscar and max-lando who do you think would be the most feral?....i just feel that lando - max threesome would make anyone loose their mind. Them taking turns to corrupt the reader😵💫
hi daisy !! i love all the asks so it’s okay!! im on my period and extremely horny so i dont mind 🫶🏻
i am a maxoscar girlie thru and thru so i want to say them but im going to tell u all my thoughts bc i dont think its that simple. all feral in dif ways. but lando is less feral and i explained that at the end.
max and oscar are both very calm and level headed, not very reactive, so they wouldn’t be noticeably excited, if that makes sense. they’d be up for anything, and if they suggest doing something new and kinky, it’s with a very neutral, almost bored expression and tone, “hey i’ve been reading about bondage, how do you feel about being tied up?” reader is the one who gets kinda feral, super eager for whatever it is, kinda like “oh my god yeah lets do that. i wanna do that right now.” would do literally anything though, it doesn’t matter who is suggesting it or what it is, they’re down to try it at least once.
landoscar would bounce off each other a lot, lando gets weird ideas and oscar goes along with them without too much thought. he just looks up whatever new weird thing lando wants to do and helps him talk to reader about it, chances are none of them have done it before so there’s some of trial and error when they’re trying new things. i think lando would be really high energy and excited about it, same with reader, and oscar slows them down and reminds them to take their time, not to get caught in the moment.
max lando would function very similarly, with max taking on a kind of guiding role and keeping lando in line. lando’s v eager to please, happy to listen to max’s commands especially when it’s something he wants to do like overstim reader. feral in that sense.
specifically with lando, w max or oscar, i feel like there’s things he wouldn’t do bc he’s squeamish. just certain things would wig him out so he’s less feral than max and oscar, who would do anything at least once just to see if they like it. or even do stuff they don’t necessarily get off to bc reader does and just getting her off gets them off so it doesn’t matter if they like it as much. lando would have a few things he just considers gross bc he doesn’t like the way smth feels on his skin or smth like that. maybe food kink? reader suggests playing with whip cream and he’s like “no. that only goes on ice cream or pie. it’s so messy it’d get all over the sheets and we’ll have to shower because we’ll be gross and sticky. i hate being sticky. what if it gets in my hair?” meanwhile oscar’s imagining all the different things he can drip onto her and lick off, like honey or chocolate, or what he can dip in whatever he’s covered her in. lando would cringe at the idea.
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IM SCREAMING ABOUT THR SHAPESHIFTER JOEL AU. I can feel the hyperfixation in the wind. But look look look I have one question. Because you asked for asks.
Why was Jimmy injured, covered in blood, delirious, AND lost in the woods
Seems like he had a very very bad day.
cracks knuckles. well, since you asked... >:]
Jimmy is actually a carpenter by trade. Though, he comes from a long line of remarkable hunters, including his two siblings, Grian and Pearl. He's always been the odd one out in the family, not because he isn't strong enough, (he's physically stronger than Grian) but because... Well, he's pretty damn squeamish. The thought of hunting makes him feel kind of sick.
He's not great with a bow, either. Clumsy with hand-to-hand combat, not any better with a sword. In short: he's not made for fighting.
What he finds he is good at, is working with his hands. Carpentry, building. He doesn't consider himself the creative type, but he's damn good at what he does.
He's happy with himself. He is.
Just... He feels like his family doesn't know how to react to him. When he gets lightheaded at the sight of blood, they usher him aside and tell him he's got to get used to it eventually once he's recovered. They're proud of his skill, he knows, but Jimmy isn't actually sure if they're proud of him or just relieved that he's being somewhat useful.
He'd tried hunting, a few times. Though they were pretty unsuccessful. One time, though, he'd managed to catch a rabbit. With a trap.
Jimmy doesn't like thinking about it.
But he'll never forget the way his father's eyes lit up at the sight, his son with a trembling, bloodied hand as he tries for a smile. He'll never forget how his siblings cheered.
(He wonders what it would take for them to look at him like that again.)
So, how'd he end up in the woods?
Eventually, Jimmy hits a breaking point.
He's tired of being the black sheep. He's tired of the hushed whispering of his relatives, the disappointment in their gaze when he sits out of a hunt. He's tired of being weak.
He packs a bag. It's almost muscle memory at this point, all those times he's helped Grian and Pearl pack for their trips. He knows what to bring, knows how to load a crossbow even though he's never actually used it on any living thing. Jimmy grits his teeth, he knows what he's doing.
He knows, rationally, that you should never do things in the heat of the moment. That's a recipe for something monumentally stupid.
Jimmy leaves a note: Out on a hunt. Don't follow me.
He heads into the woods, and he doesn't look back.
(Cue the most agonizing week or so of his entire life.)
The adrenaline wore off pretty quick. He almost died a few times, he'd gotten lost immediately, he injured his leg--!
Jimmy staggers into what looks like a clearing, his vision swaying as pain flares up his leg. He doesn't really know if it's blood loss making him all dizzy, or the fact that he looked at it earlier and it was all--
He gags, fighting his nausea.
I'm gonna die here, he thinks, everything blurring at the edges. What was I thinking?
Things get a bit hazy, here. Something about a wolf, larger than Jimmy has ever seen. (Or, more accurately, larger than anything Jimmy's ever heard of.)
Then he passed out.
#ryan's writing#ouughhh#shapeshifter joel au#all the tags r just for my blog organization :p#ANYWAY FEEL FREE TO SEND MORE EHE#i cant promise theyll all be this long but ill do my best to answer em!#jimmy solidarity#solidarity gaming#solidaritygaming#mcyt au#mcytblr#grian#pearlescentmoon#(mentioned)
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sunshine | part II
Summary: Hanta just wants to marry you. In hindsight, it's been a long time coming.
Pairing: Hanta Sero x fem!reader
Warnings: Alternate timelines, friends to lovers/established relationship, swearing, smut
Word Count: 11 684
Part 2 of 4 | Masterlist
Note: Once again, I edited this in a rush. But it's finally up, after months and months :)
13 years old
The strong sting of antiseptic is what slaps you in the face the moment that you step into the school nurse's room. The whole place has always been uncomfortably sterile, with barely a human touch anywhere to ward off the artificial feeling of the room. You don't turn away though, despite how you'd like to, and instead move deeper into the room to allow the nervous boy behind you to follow you through the door.
"R-really," Sero says, coming to stand awkwardly in front of the single, metal-framed examination bed. "It's okay. You don't need to-"
You pay him no mind, however, as you step over in the direction of the medicinal cabinet. It's unlocked, open for student to use if need be - although the school is always very cautious about keeping potentially dangerous medication or equipments so readily available- and you already have your sights set on a roll of thin bandages before you even pull open the glass door.
"Sit," you tell Sero over your shoulder as you gather what you need. "It's okay, I can take care of this."
Sero lets out a muffled grunt, words you can not decipher and don't try to. However, then comes the telltale creaking of springs that lets you know he's done as you suggested and taken a seat on the bed.
There's a tension in the room, between the both of you. But you don't fully understand what it is. Quite possibly, it has something to do with the fact that you were sitting in his lap not ten minutes ago, although that's not something you really want to acknowledge. All you can tell is that, once you've got your hands full of antiseptic spray, Bactroban and bandages, and you turn back around only to accidentally meet his eyes, you can't help but blush a little bit and look away.
God, this is embarrassing.
Sero shifts a little uncomfortably on the bed as you go to set the stuff down beside him. His long legs are slightly spread, with his forearms resting on his thighs and his spine a little hunched. Visibly, he's tense and uncomfortable, and while you chalk it up to the pain of his scratch, you know it's probably more than that too.
He probably thinks you're a real idiot.
You sigh softly and busy yourself with tearing away the plastic wrapper that covers the roll of bandage. You don't blame him, honestly - you had absolutely come across as a total airhead back there, stuttering and tripping over Yuuta like an absolute mess. You don't even want to begin to imagine what Yuuta himself must think, all things considered, and it makes your cheeks flush with an even fiercer heat when you feel Hanta's gaze on the side of your head.
You push through it though, as best you can, because even if he does think you're pretty stupid, you don't have to interact with him ever again after this if you don't want to.
At least, that's what you tell yourself.
"Can you roll your sleeve up a little higher?: you ask him in a soft voice as you go to take another look at the long scratch. Sero does as you ask, or tries at least. The fabric of his jumper goes up to just before the crook of his elbow and no further, even when he tries to tug at it.
"That, uh, as far as it'll go," Sero mumbles then and when you glance up at his face, he looks away, embarrassed. "My - My quirk… it can't… Well, it's, uh, in the way."
"Oh," is all you can muster in return because it's all just so awkward. You honestly feel like you're being suffocated.
Thankfully, despite the resistance, his sleeve does go up high enough for you to see the entire scratch. It's worse when you look at it close, and is bleeding even more heavily now. Something squeamish twinges in the back of your mind, but you push it away and lean over to pick up the antiseptic spray and cotton wads.
"I'm sorry," you apologise to him, more to be polite than anything else. "This will probably sting quite a bit."
Hanta just shakes his head. "It's okay, I can handle the pain."
Even so, his face still screws up when you begin to clean the scratch with the antiseptic spray.
You feel the twinge of guilt as your eye flicker from his arm to his face and then back to his arm. It's so obvious he's trying to put on a tough face for your sake, despite the fact that it's your fault that he's here in the first place. You might feel awkward around him, but it's not as if you dislike Sero. And it's because of this - and to have an excuse of breaking the smothering silence - that you speak.
"You've got pretty insane reflexes. You caught me really quickly."
Sero gulps, his hand tensing into a fist for a second before relaxing. "Uh, yeah," he answers, attempt to talk through the sting. "I-it's something I've been training tor a while. I mean, naturally I've got pretty fast reaction time but I've been working on them even more now."
"You've been training?" you ask, feigning curiosity to keep him distracted. "Any particular reason why?"
"Ah, well," he replies and you notice a notable slump in his tense shoulders. "It's all a part of my preparation to take the UA entrance exam next year."
"UA?" This time, your interest is genuinely peaked and you look up from what you're doing to meet his eyes. He looks back at you, and for the first time ever you don't think you see a waver in his gaze. He must be comfortable talking about this topic.
"You want to go to UA?"
"I do," Sero confirms with a nod of his head. "It's kind of… all I've ever wanted to do."
"The hero course? Or something different?" you question before you can stop yourself. Sero blinks at your eagerness.
"The hero course," he confirms.
"So you wanna be a pro-hero?"
Sero nods again and raises a hand to scratch awkwardly at the back of his head. "Since I was little, yeah," he mumbles. "It's kind of… my dream?"
He says it like a very bashful, very embarrassed question, and yet you can't help but smile at it. You did not know this about Sero at all; the fact that he wanted to go into UA's hero course was not something you'd ever even considered as a possibility. Not that you had any reason to, since you and he had only interacted to the very bare minimum before now. However, for some odd reason, the knowledge that he too is applying to UA high-school, come next year autumn, sends a warmth flooding through your chest. Suddenly, you don't feel as alone.
"That's really cool," you tell him, offering a bright smile. Then it turns sheepish. "Sorry about all the questions. I guess I'm just curious because I also wanna go to UA."
"You do?" The way he perks up so suddenly reminds you of a literal puppy. "You want to go to UA?"
"Yeah," you tell him, still smiling. You set the antiseptic spray down, finished with cleaning up his arm and go to grab the roll of bandage. "Not the hero course though. I'm hoping to get into the support course."
"The support course?" Sero's expression falters only briefly as you begin to wind the soft white cloth tightly around his forearm. "You like that stuff."
You nod mildly, your focus now on wrapping the bandage as evenly as possible. "Yeah. I've been into all those gadgety things since I was a kid. Although," you repress a small snort, "I didn't always know it."
When you glance back up at Sero, he gives you a questioning look and it prompts you to continue. "When I was younger," you explain, "I always thought I was gonna be a hero. I was really obsessed with certain pros, like Ereasurehead and Sir Nighteye - the heroes who relied a lot on support items. I thought it would be so cool to have all the gadgets and stuff. I went all the way up until elementary school convinced I was going to become a pro-hero. Until in sixth grade, when I tried to build Erasurehead's capture weapon for a science fair, and I realised that what I was actually interested in was the support gear."
You can't help but chuckle to yourself at the memory, taken back to that day when you'd stood with the first place rosette pinned to your shirt, holding your prized capture weapon in front of all the other participants of the fair, having a crisis over the fact that your entire career plan had been turned on its head.
"I haven't looked back since then," you continue with a shrug. "And since UA's got the best support course around, I figured that where I'd aim to be."
When you stop talking, you realise that Sero is looking at you with an odd expression on his face. There's a warmth in his eyes you haven't seen before and you almost want to say he's on the verge of smiling, with the way the corner of his mouth his tilted upwards.
"I didn't know that at all," he admits, almost a little sheepish. You shrug in response, reaching out for a piece of tape to stick down the edge if the bandage with.
"I didn't expect you to. I don't talk about it much, not even to my friends. It's kind of like my little secret."
Which makes it pretty odd that you'd just spilled your guts to someone who's in essence a total stranger, you realise suddenly, although you don't say it out loud.
Sero flexes his hand once you stand back, the bandage finally secure and settled in place. The clean whiteness of the fabric stands out in start contrast against his olive toned skin, and you can't help but feel a little guilty again as you look at it.
"Thank you," Sero says, and his voice sounds much stronger than it had when you'd first spoken to him earlier in the day. "I... Yeah, thanks."
"It's no problem," you tell him, shaking your head as you begin to pack up what you'd taken from the cupboard. "The least I could do after I caused that whole mess."
He just shakes his head slightly in response, scratching at his hair once again. And then, when you reach for the cupboard door, he slides off the bed onto his feet and opens it for you without a word.
You nod in appreciation to him as you put the things way. And then he closes the door again once you're done, leaving the both of you standing alone in the small room with empty hands and nothing more to do.
Like a ton of bricks, the awkwardness returns.
"I, uh," you start, twisting your fingers together as you look from him to the door and back again. "Well, I guess I'd better get going."
"Yeah," he says quietly in reply and you're almost disappointed that he doesn't try to stop you. "Me too."
"So… see you around?"
He nods and you just about ready to turn on your heel and bolt, wanting nothing more than to put as much distance between yourself and this horribly uncomfortable afternoon as possible.
However, you're stopped short by a soft hand reaching out to grip your wrist.
Sero says you name tentatively and for a second you swear something inside you just melts .
"I, uh, liked talking to you today," Sero mumbles. When you turn around to look at him over your shoulder he's got his head down, his bangs shielding his eyes. "It - it was nice to get to know you a little. So, um… thank you."
He glances up a little and his eyes meet yours. Both of you are flushing immensely.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, but not in the bad way as you turn around to face him properly. For some reason, you twist your wrist a little in his grip and then grasp at his back, your fingers feather light against his skin.
"Yeah," you mumble out and are surprised to find your voice is just as soft as his. "Yeah, you too."
And just like that, you realise you don't mind this afternoon too much after all.
23 years old
Hanta's patrol that afternoon isn't one of the worst he's ever had. But it isn't one of the best either. For some reason, it seems like the entire city is out and about today, forcing him to be extra alert as he walks through the streets in his sector, on the lookout for any unsavoury activity. Nothing major happens, thank goodness, however, he is faced with a few more domestic cases that - in his opinion at least - are more difficult to deal with than actual battles with villains. A lost kid in the park, a dog stuck in a gate, a worried young father who's baby pram blew away in the wind. All are of his concern and so he deals with all as quickly and efficiently as possible, smiling happily every time the job gets done. His heart longs for home though and he can't help but breathe a deep sigh of relief when his watch finally beeps 20:00, letting him know he's due to clock off.
The rain starts just as he's stepping through the tall glass doors at the front of his agency building, the raindrops only just catching his heels. It's warm inside the reception area of his agency, something he is both grateful for and a little apprehensive of, as it draws attention to the way the slick material of his hero suit is sticking to his body.
It has him shifting uncomfortably as he steps into the elevator and hits the button for the basement floor, which houses the gym, locker area and, mercifully, the showers. It's not often that he regrets many choices about his hero lifestyle but when he does, his suit it usually at the forefront of them. The design has changed only a little since his high-school days and remains as skin tight as ever, something Hanta loves and hates. Loves because it's aerodynamic and allows for him to do his best work. Plus, you like it a real lot. Hates because on days like this, even having done not much but walk around, he feels sticky and grimy and absolutely desperate to hop into a steaming shower.
Thankfully, there's no one else in the licker room when he gets there - the three sidekicks he'd hired back at the beginning of April must all have started their patrols already - and so Hanta is free to strip down and step into one of the large, clean showers without any distractions. He lets out an audible sigh as the hot water finally hits him, steam immediately beginning to rise and fog up the air around him. His muscles are tired, despite the quiet day, and Hanta can't help but eagerly await the time he can crawl into bed beside you and go to sleep.
He's got Boys Night first though, which he remembers with a slight furrow of his eyebrows. He'd promised he would be at Boys Night this week, and he doubts Denki will forgive him is he bails for a third time in a row. His shoulders slump a little in disappointment.
Boys Night is a tradition that has held up since he, and all the other members of Class A back at UA, graduated. Every other week the boys of Class A, and sometimes Class B too, meet up at a group-favourite izakaya for drinks and snacks and to catch up. The guest list is always rotating, and it's always been more of a "if you can make it, come along" type of thing. Hanta still tries to go as often as he can though, even if it's just to get a chance to catch up with the former classmates who he probably wouldn't have made an effort to see otherwise.
He's had to miss the last two, though, for reasons out of his control. The first was because he'd got held up at work, when Jester, one of his sidekicks, ended up in hospital after a pretty nasty encounter with some yakuza thugs. The second time was because you'd successful completed your first major brand deal with a well-known hero and Hanta had taken you put to dinner to celebrate. Because of this, he knows Denki will be on his ass to make an appearance tonight and as much as the idea makes his shoulders sag, he doesn't really mind. It might even give him an opportunity to chat to Bakugou about the whole wedding thing (although the likelihood that Bakugou will also be there without Kirishima to force him is very low)
There's agency issued body wash sitting on one of the small shelves built into the corner of the dower, and when Hanta reaches for it and flips the cap open, he's hit by the small of white roses. It envelopes him as he pours some of the already foamy soap into his cupped palm, his mind suddenly taken back to a faint memory from way back in his first year of high school; a dark cupboard, fingers curling into the front of his shirt, soft breathe against the shell of his ear, whispers words against his skin…
"You smell like white roses and dark chocolate."
If only he'd known back then it'd be the start of something amazing, he'd probably would've tried to take in more. But he'd been do enraptured at the time, so completely out of it over the idea of sitting in the darkness with just you for seven minutes that he hadn't stopped to appreciate it like he should have.
He can't deny though, that t hat memory is the one that prompted him, when it came time to choose the scent of the body wash in the agency showers, to choose white rose over everything else. And every time he catches it's scent, he can't help but think back.
He finishes up with the rest of his shower quickly, and then changes into the fresh long-sleeve v-neck and sweatpants that are ready for him in his locker. His hair falls in a wet mop against the back of his neck, sending water droplets racing down his back, and he makes his best attempt to dry at it with his tower as he hooks his bag over his arm and heads back towards the elevator. He's almost done for the day, he thinks contentedly as the floor number pings and the elevator doors slide open for him. All he needs to do is clock out and then he'll be free. The thought makes his chest warm.
It takes about 30 seconds to reach the top floor of the agency building. There's only offices up here; his, his assistants and those of the three sidekicks. His is the largest, the last door on the right which leads out into a large square room with a corner window, several tall bookshelves and a desk that Hanta still thinks is far too important for his little old self. The room is very dark when he steps inside, since the heavy curtains are drawn against the city lights, and it takes Hanta a few moments of dropping his bag by the door and then flicking at the light switch for the upward-facing lights in each corner of the room to blaze into life.
Logging the occurrences of his patrol on his computer doesn't take Hanta long and before he really knows it, he's hitting save and sending the file off to his assistant. The paperwork side of being a hero isn't much fun but it is relatively quick and painless for the most part. And getting it done is always incredibly satisfying. After checking to make sure there aren't aren't other outstanding forms waiting for him, he powers down his monitor once again and gets up from his desk chair. His spine pops a little as he stretches it out, and then he's sauntering back out the room, flicking off the lights as he goes. He doesn't bother to take his bag with him - he's got the early morning shift tomorrow anyway so he'll be back here first thing.
As he heads back towards the elevator, he pops his head into his assistants office. She smiles up him, evidently in the midst of clocking out herself, and says, "You heading out?"
Hanta nods. "Yeah. Got Boys Night to get to."
She laughs. "Well have fun. Don't drink too much."
"You know me," Hanta snorts in response. "I never do."
And then he's gone, strolling back towards the elevator with and easy stride, his mind already turning to the izakaya and then, later on, to his evening with you.
As if on a cue, he feels his cellphone buzz into life in his pockets just as the elevator doors slide open. He pulls the device out as he steps inside and as the screen brightens, he's treated to a new text from you.
Her <33
Are you coming home before you goes to boys night?
Hanta leans back against the cool metal of the elevator wall as he swipes open the app. His fingers zoom across the keyboard as he types out his reply.
Me
Wasn't planing to. I'm already a little late so I thought I'd go straight there.
If that's okay?
The little bubble that says you're typing something back appears almost as soon as he hits send on his own message. Hanta rolls his shoulder a little as he waits for you reply, wincing as he does so when the stiffness twangs in his joint.
Her <33
That's fine. Are you gonna be drinking tonight?
Me
Nah. I'm pretty sure Denki's planning to get wasted and since Kiri won't be there, he'll need a babysitter.
Her <33
Lmao. Well, have fun. Don't do stupid stuff.
Me
When do I ever?
Her <33
Don't make me answer that.
Hanta snorts at your reply and pockets his phone once again as the elevator pings to a stop. The doors slide open smoothly and he steps out, heading straight for the main doors of the agency. It's still raining outside but not as badly, and as he ducks his way out of the doors and into the downpour, he can't help but feel like this evening will be a good time.
As Hanta had expected, he is the last one of his former classmates to arrive at the izakaya.
The whole area is already horribly crowded by the time he steps through the door, however someone has managed to grab the usual spot he and the rest of the Class A boys always take. It's a bit of a job to pick his way through the people towards the table without accidentally elbowing someone, but Hanta manages it somehow. And when he finally stops by the table surrounded by his friends, he greeted by a flurry of smiles.
"Hanta!" greets Denki first, loud and already sounding slightly tipsy. He offers Hanta a fist first and Hanta reciprocates, knocking how own against it. "Man, I thought you'd abandoned us!"
Hanta rolls his eyes playfully. "As if. I was just showering and stuff after patrol."
"Nonetheless, we are all glad to see you," says Iida, smiling. He nods his head to the empty spot next to him, which Hanta takes without complaint. "So, how have you been? It feels like I haven't seen you in far too long!"
Hanta shrugs and gives them all a brief overview of his life in the past couple of weeks. He looks around as he talks, noticing how there's more people here than usual. Including, surprisingly, Bakugou, who's sitting looking grouchy right across the table from Hanta.
It's nice to catch up with his old school friends. Almost all the boys of Class A have chosen to come this evening, with the only exceptions being Kirishima, for obvious reasons, Shoji, because he had some appointment to get to, and Tokoyami, who is currently in hospital after an incident with Dark Shadow. Even Midoriya has made it out and Hanta spends a few very enjoyable minutes trading stories with him about a smaller hero they'd both worked with recently.
There's a pretty obvious elephant in the room, however, and once all the relevant topics like Kirishima's baby and Bakugou's upcoming wedding have been talked thread bare, all eyes turn to look curiously at Hanta.
"Soooo," Denki draws out, grinning lopsided as he gives Hanta a knowing - and very drunk - look. "Like I said earlier, Mr Cellophane did something very exciting today!"
Heat rushes right to Hanta's cheeks and he just about chokes on his water as the eyes on him suddenly become even more intense. "D-Denki," he mumbles, ducking his head a little so that his bangs hide his eyes. "It's really not that big a deal."
"Nooo, it isssss," Denki slurs and chuckles sloppily. He takes another sip of his drink and points across the table at Hanta. "Go on, tell them. It's just the boys here, no one's gonna snitch!"
"W-well," Hanta coughs and states down into his class. "Today, Denki and I went -"
"Me and Hanta went to the jewellery store! That really fancy on on the promenade!" Denki blurts, interrupting him.
"Uh, yeah," Hanta says, scratching at the back of his head. "I was just planning on looking around a bit but-"
"Hanta bought a big shiny ring," says Denki grinning. He holds up his hand and wiggles his own bare ring finger. "For his giiiiiiirlfriend ."
The table erupts.
"Y-you mean like an engagement ring?" Midoriya splutters, his eyes wide. "Wow, Sero, that's-!"
"Fucking idiot," Bakugou's grumbling but there's a sparkle in his carmine eyes. "You have no idea how much fucking planning you're in for, I swear to-"
"That's a very big step," Iida is musing, "although you two have been together for a long time. I'm sure you've thought this through. In any case-"
"Congratulations," says Todoroki, reaching out to place a hand on Hanta's shoulder. The calm touch centre's Hanta a bit in the chaos and he turns to give his friend a weak smile.
"Ah, well she hasn't said yes yet so…"
"Oh but she will!" Ojiro says encouragingly across the table. He looks around, gaining the approving nods from the others. "She's totally crazy about you. I'd be willing to bet the idea of saying no won't even cross her mind."
"You two have been together for a long time," Bakugou butts in once again. He scowls and jerks his head in Iida's direction. "Like Four-Eyes said. You two are so perfect for each other it's disgusting."
"We're all rooting for you," Midoriya tells him, smiling widely.
"Not me," pipes up another voice; Mineta is sitting beside Denki, scowling unhappily."Maybe if you two break up, I'll finally be able to get my hands on that hot- mhff!
But Denki wacks him over the back of the head and knocks his nose into his drink before he can finish his sentence.
"So when are you planning to propose?" Todoroki asks, turning back to Hanta with a curious expression. "Soon?"
"Ah." Hanta grins nervously and rubs hard at the back of his neck. He feels a little overwhelmed, especially now that all the pairs of eyes at the table are back on him once again. It's safe to say he's given his decision quite a bit of thought, however, he feels suddenly very unprepared as he looks back at all his friends waiting faces.
Honestly, he hasn't expected to tell anyone until after it happened. That way he could avoid all the pressure - this pressure - from people other than himself over not fucking things up.
"Not too soon," he says eventually. "I, uh, still would like to chat to her parents about it. And mine. And… just mentally prepare myself a little, ya know?"
There are resounding nods all around the table, and a harsh chuckle from Bakugou. The blond sits back, giving Hanta a dark look from under one arched eyebrow as a cruel smirk plays at his lips.
"All that mental prep shit does fuck all," he says bluntly, crossing his arms decidedly over his chest. "It's gonna be the most terrifying moment of your entire life. You're gonna be scared shitless."
Hanta feels his stomach drop a little. While it's not usually the case, he feels far more inclined to listen to advice from Bakugou than any of the other at the table, since he's the only one who has actually done the damn thing before.
"How-" Hanta starts, then stops, swallows, tries again. "How do I… not fuck it up?"
Something in Katsuki's jaw twitches and he leans in, looking Hanta dead in the eye.
"I'm gonna ask you this once because I honestly don't give a shit about your stupid love life," he grumbles out. "Do you love her?:
"Of course," Hanta replies, only for some reason it comes out as barely more than a whisper.
"How much?"
"More than anything," Hanta says without evening having to think. The corner of Katsuki's mouth twitches upwards.
"Then you're already doing everything you can, shit head," he says. "The rest is up to her. So fuckin' trust her, okay?"
"Okay," Hanta breathes back. And suddenly, he feels a hundred times better.
Trust you . Yes, he can definitely do that.
13 years old
You find yourself staring at Sero the next day during class. And again the next day. And the next. Until suddenly week has gone by of you observing him and it's the last day of term.
You’ve found out a lot about him during your starring. Not personal information. But the little things that all of a sudden you’ve started to notice.
You’ve found that he never wears short sleeve shirts. And the the shirts he does where are always baggy and a little too big. You’ve found that he’s not always awkward and quiet; he’ll open up around some of his friends and you’ll hear him laughing across the classroom. But only some. You’ve found that he wears necklaces, but they’re always tucked away beneath the collars of his shirts. You’ve found that his ears are actually pierced but he doesn’t wear any earrings at school because it’s not part of the dress code. You’ve found that he actually puts a lot of effort into his studies, and he’s in the top five in the class. You’ve found that he goes to the gym to train every second afternoon. You’ve found that he doodles in his school books; usually, sketches of potential hero costumes. You’ve found that he genuinely cares about people, and he’ll always lend a hand, if quietly, when someone is in need of it. You’ve found that he loves manga, and will sometimes sit by himself at lunch, just reading. You’ve found that he has to tie his bangs up during tests, because they get in his face and distract him. You’ve found that he always has to be doing something with his hand to concentrate.
And you’ve found that he actually also stares at you , a lot more than you’d previously realised.
Although, odd as is it, you don’t actually mind all that much.
You don’t talk to him any more than you did before the whole incident in the nurse's office. But the atmosphere between you feels slightly warmer now. You smile when you meet his eyes, and most of the time, he smiles back.
(Or tries to at least, behind the bright red cheeks and wide eyes)
For no reason at all, you feel closer to him.
Unfortunately, it hasn’t gone unnoticed.
They corner you when the bell of lunch goes on the last day of the spring term. You don’t think it’s what they’re doing at first; assuming with a bright-eyed innocence that they’d simple come to your table to chat a little before you all head to the cafeteria together.
However when you look up and see the dark looks on all of your friend’s faces, something in your gut sinks a little.
“We need to talk,” is what Shizuku says. And it's all you need to know something is wrong.
It’s Suzuki who starts. She fiddles with her fingers, then the hem of her skirt, and then her fingers again. She seems awkward; they all do. Like she doesn’t quite know where to start. Immediately, an alarm bell goes off in your head.
“Is something wrong?” you ask, just to break the silence. You don’t really need to ask - you’ve known all these girls for years. Shizuku and Suzuki have been with you since elementary school, and are probably the two closest people you have on the planet. You can read their faces right now. And you can tell that something is wrong. The real question is… what?
“Well, yeah. Kinda. We, um, w-well,” Shizuku begins to stumble out. But she trips over the words, obviously knowing what she wants to say but not quite how to say it.
Something deep within you goes cold. And you realise suddenly why they’re all here. And why they’re all looking at you .
“Did… I do something?” you ask them, already knowing the answer. But also dreading it.
The looks they give each other is all the answer you need.
You zone out after that. Or not zone out - it’s more like you don’t process what’s happening. They - Shizuku and Suzuki - tell you a lot of things. Despite their awkwardness at the beginning, once they get going, they don’t ever seem to stop. They talk about how you’ve been distant, and how you haven’t paid attention to them. They talk about how they feel like you’re not putting effort into the friendship, at least not as much as they are. They talk about how you haven’t checked up on them recently.
Shizuku says she “needs some space.”
And Suzuki says that “it would be better for both parties is we all just took a step back.”
You don’t really understand. You don’t even know where any of this is coming from. Your brain is struggling to process what’s happening because it’s all so sudden, and you don’t think you’ve been any different than normal - at least, not to them.
You don’t get it. At all. But they don’t make any effort to explain things further. And then before you know it, you’re apologising. And thanking them for telling you, even though you’re not grateful for it at all.
And then you’re making some shitty excuse about work you need to do, and you leave, taking all your things with you.
You only really realise what’s actually just happened once you’re far away from the classroom, and standing sullenly in one of the empty outdoor courtyards.
You think you cry then. You’re still not entirely sure as your brain spins and you replay your conversation over and over and over again in your mind.
Then the sound of a stick cracking beneath someone’s foot breaks the still air and you whirl around to see none other than Sero, frozen in place a few metres behind you as he evidently tries to cross the courtyard in silence.
For a moment, you stare at each other.
Then Sero turn and takes a single step forward. He says you name, softly and worriedly, and you realise suddenly that he’s staring hard at your face. At your eyes.
You put your hand up to touch the skin of your cheek, find it wet. Then hastily you scrub at it, rubbing away the tears that have fallen.
“I’m fine,” you tell him shortly. Very shortly - in fact, your voice is clipped and harsh. Something flashes through his eyes at the sound of it, maybe hurt, maybe worry, and you almost expect him to turn away. It’s evident you don’t want him around right now, your tense shoulders and harsh eyes say that much. You’re caught off guard and you don’t want anyone to see you crying. For some reason, especially not him.
But, much to your surprise, he doesn’t back down. Determination settles over his expression and he takes another step.
And he says, “You’re not.”
“I am.”
He shakes his head. “You’re crying.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
You’re about to protest, because really he has no right to speak to you like that. He’s not being rude but he’s being firm and it has your gears grinding as you stand glaring at him. He doesn’t know me at all, you think hotly, your hand curling into fists at your sides. He doesn’t know shit. Why is he…?
But your thoughts trail off when he steps even closer and suddenly you’re close enough to see the real, genuine concern in his eyes. He cares, you realise with a violent start, your heart thudding so hard against your ribs it's almost painful. He actually cares.
You're not entirely sure how to feel about that, and it makes even more tears well up in your eyes. You try to turn away, wanting to avoid his stare, but he catches you before you can, a gentle hand on your arm. His other hand goes to your shoulder as you're pulled in his direction and suddenly the pair of you are nose to nose. He's so close you can count his eyelashes.
"Hey," he says as his eyes flicker back and forth between your own. His eyebrows scrunch up a little. "Hey, are you…okay?"
And just like that you feel something crack deep inside you. The tears burn as they flood your eyes and your lip trembles. The ache in your chest is so intense it locks up your throat and it's all you can do to let out a single sob.
In hindsight, you're sure you'd really freaked Sero out. However he doesn't let you see any of it now, as he pulls you into a tight hug without a word. One of his hands slides around your waist while the other presses into the back of your head, keeping your nose buried in his shoulder. He shushes you softly, in a way that is so out of character for the awkward, stuttering boy you usually know that in any other situation you probably would've laughed.
You don't now, obviously. Instead you hug him back, taking refuge in this new, unfamiliar comfort. You don't talk, don't try to explain what's going through your head; you just cry because it's really the only thing you can do right now.
Neither of you are sure how long you end up standing there for. And you don't really care either way. Sero smells nice - very faintly like white rose and dark, rich chocolate- and already your heart rate is beginning to steady as you breathe him in. His arms around you are warm and you can feel his heartbeat in your own chest, steady and rhythmic.
You only pull away when the school bell rings, loud and jarring across the courtyard. Your eyes widen a little and you all but stumble back as your cheeks burn with a bright flush.
"U-um," you mumble out, avoiding Sero's eyes. "Sorry."
He shakes his head, still watching you cautiously and you get the feeling he's worried that you're going to start crying again.
"I'm fine," you reassure before he can ask, your hands dropping to smooth out the hem of your cardigan. "I just… yeah, um, sorry."
"It's okay," he tells you genuinely, running a hand through his hair. "Just… are you sure you're good to go back to class?"
You nod hastily. In truth you're not entirely sure - all your friends will be in that class and the idea of facing them all over again sends a special kind of pain through your chest. You don't have any other option though, and so you figure it's best to suck it up, just for the last few hours of the day. Then you can go on summer break and not have to be around them for a few weeks.
You think you're hiding what's going through your mind pretty well, but when you look back up to meets Sero's eyes again, fully prepared to offer him a fake smile and an excuse, you see the knowing expression on his face.
"Hey, if you want," he starts, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "I could… walk with you back to class? "
"I…" you stop, staring at him. It's not the most monumental of offers and yet… it means something to you, something that you can't quite explain.
"I'd… actually really appreciate that," you mumble out, staring down at your toes. "If… If it's okay with you."
"O-of course!" Sero tells you and you notice his blush and stutter is returning. It brings a small smile to your lips. "We are in the same class so it's not like I'm going anywhere else anyway!"
"R-right," you agree and tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. "We should probably go…"
"Yeah," he nods along. "Come on."
The pair of you start walking and for a moment everything is silent. You can't help but sneak glances at him out of the corner of your eye and, you have a feeling that he's doing the same to you. It's awkward, really awkward, for a few seconds at least, until you reach the door back into the school.
But then, when Sero holds it open for you and allows you to go through ahead of him, you grit your teeth and do something that, years later, you will credit as being the start if everything you ever had with Sero.
You reach out and grab his hand.
23 years old
Hanta gets home a lot later than he'd expected to. Usually these nights out with the boys wrap up after just a couple of hours, since there's almost always someone in the group drinking heavily enough to reach the point of incoherence less than forty minutes in. Tonight, however, despite the fact that Denki did eventually slump over the table and fall completely asleep, everyone had hung around a lot longer than normal.
Hanta doubts it has anything explicitly to do with him. The conversation he'd had with Bakugou wrapped up immediately after that last piece of advice and then Hanta himself had done everything to try and steer the topic if conversation to something different once again. He can't deny, however, that the energy around the table had changed a lot with Bakugou's words, growing lighter immediately and more cheerful. Hanta certainly felt it; that bubble had remained for the rest of the evening, even once it was over, sitting happily in his chest as he drove home and then when he unlocked the apartment door.
He's not surprised to find everything in darkness once he steps inside. You don't usually wait up for him during events like these and he's glad you don't - you need every second of sleep you can get and he likes nothing better than to sneak in through the darkness and find you all curled up in the large king bed, more likely than not cuddling his pillow.
This is why he doesn't bother turning any of the lights on as he sets his keys down, and why he bypasses everything else in the apartment to head right for the bedroom as soon as his shoes and coat are off.
It's just a dark in there, he finds, as out in the rest of the house and for a moment he has to pause by the doorway and squint in an attempt to adjust his vision. It's a pretty dark night already, with no moon and cloud cover, and the blackout curtains completely mute any glow from the surrounding city that might try to find its way inside. He can still see you though, once his eyes adjust to the dark, and it's very hard for him to control his smile as for a moment he just stands still and stares.
If he's honest with himself, this is more than he ever could have wanted. And it's moments like this that allow him to acknowledge that. You look so peaceful in your sleep, with your hair loose and one arm curled up against your shoulder. More than that, you look older. A lot of the time, Hanta genuinely thinks that his vision of you is often skewed by the image of his best friend from middle school, and as a result he sometimes fails to see the mature young woman you've grown into. The mature and very very beautiful young woman.
You shift a little as if you feel his eyes on you, turning you face just slightly as your eyelashes flutter against the curve of your cheek. Hanta watches the movement as he slips his way deeper into the room, now heading to the en suite bathroom. He almost feels bad when he flicks the light switch on, sending a beam of gold across the room and right over your face for a brief moment before he steps inside and shuts the door as quickly as he can.
His shower is lightening fast as his eyes droop at the corners. The fatigue of the day is hitting him, finally, and he does his best to be as quick as possible as he just rinses the dirt of the evening away and then climbs into the pair of sweatpants you must have put on the counter in anticipation of just this happening.
Hanta smiles a little at the thought as he brushes his teeth. He's always picked up on the little details of his relationship with you, and yet they still never fail to fill him with a special kind of warmth. It has him even more eager to finish up his nightly routine and head off to bed, looking forward greatly to the moment he gets to haul you on top of his chest and snuggle the life out of you.
He doesn't expect you to be awake when he finally exits the bathroom. He's preoccupied with pushing the damp strands of his dark hair out of his face, and so doesn't notice the glitter of your eyes as he flicks off the bathroom light and crosses the room to your shared bed.
He feels it though, when you reach for him and grab his hand, tugging him down onto the bed with surprising strength. Hanta let's of a muffle oof! as he hits the mattress and then shifts, twisting his body so he can settle face to face with you as best as he can.
"Well, hello," he says, just a little cheeky. You give him sleepy smile in response, one he's only just able to see through the darkness of the room, and tighten your grip on his fingers a little.
"D'you just get home?" you ask, voice thick with sleep. Hanta makes an "uh huh" noise as he snuggles closer to you, wriggling his way under the covers as he sneaks an arm around your back.
"How was it?" you mumble, pressing your nose into his collarbone.
"The usual. Denki got hammered, Bakugou cussed out Mineta… nothing social," Hanta tells you, shrugging with one shoulder. You smile a little into his skin and nod once.
"Sounds nice.:
"It was," Hanta agrees, smiling a little. "Oh, and Kiri sent more pictures of his baby so we went through those. I swear that kid looks just like him."
"You'll have to show me in the morning," you tell him. "I always knew Kiri was gonna have a cute kid."
"Oh, you did?" Hanta remarks, half teasing. You nod in response and adjust the angle of your head a little so you nose and mouth are pressed into the crook of his neck.
"I did."
"How so?"
"Cuz Kirishima is adorable," you say, matter of factly. "So any kid of his is gonna be the sweetest thing to ever bless this earth."
Hanta actually agrees with you. But he still pouts for a second and pulls you a little closer, his hand sliding from your middle to your lower back.
"You think he's adorable?"
"Who doesn't," you mumble back. And Hanta can't really find a counter argument to that.
"Point taken. Our kid would be cuter though."
"You think?"
"Oh, absolutely," Hanta says, one hundred percent certain. "No offence to Kirishima's baby but if we had a kid, it would be the literal best thing to ever exist."
"I think you're biased," you tell him pointedly, but Hanta had heard the smile in your voice. "Parents always think that their own child is the best."
"No but think about it," Hanta says. He shuffles away a little to look properly at your face, a glint in his eyes. "Just imagine it. Not only would it be the best looking baby ever, but it would be so smart too! Provided it got your brains."
You chuckle a little and Hanta feels his heart leap as he watches the corners of your eyes crinkle up a little. "It seems like you've given this a lot of though," you remark. "Does the topic of our hypothetical child grace your thoughts often, Hanta?"
Hanta blushes. He can't help it - you've caught him fair and square. He also can't help the smile that spreads over his face as he looks down at you, eyes roving over each contour of your features before locking with your own.
"Maybe it does," he admits, shrugging one shoulder again. "I can't really help it."
"That's cute."
"What's cute?"
"Your infatuation with our relationship," you tell him, your voice soft and sweet. Hanta makes a face.
"I'm not infatuated with out relationship."
"I think you are."
"I'm infatuated with you," Hanta says. "Only you."
You lean up your press a soft kiss to his jaw in response. Hanta's eyes flicker closed at the feeling and his grip on your waist tightens briefly. You react by shuffling yourself a little closer and suddenly you're practically on top of him, with your arms sliding up around his neck and your thighs rubbing up against his.
It takes Hanta an eternity to register the fact that your legs are bare. And when he finally does it makes his cheeks colour a little pink.
"You…" he begins as his hand sneaks downwards, from laying flay against your lower back to the curve of your hip and then up and over to the meat of your thigh. His eyes widen as he feels his way across your body and discovers you're wearing only panties on your bottom half.
"Hanta…" you mumble in reply before leaning up to kiss his jaw again. And it's then, as your lips ghost across the edge of his jawline an he feels the soft drag of your fingertips sneaking up into his dark hair, that Hanta gets his first inkling of where tonight may be headed.
Suddenly, he's no longer tired.
It starts out soft, as always. Soft touches, soft whispers. Hanta's hands brushing up against you, feeling your skin and the way your muscles move beneath it. It’s inquisitive, as if it’s happening for the first time all over again; an exploration , one might call it. Really, it’s Hanta refamiliarising himself with you, and reassuring you. Makings sure you understand.
He doesn’t really need to; he knows you like the back of his hand after being with you for so long. He knows all your responses and all your reactions, and he knows how to communicate properly. But he likes to do it anyway, every time. It’s another way of showing his love for you, he supposes, something that he doesn’t ever think he does enough of.
It’s also, he supposes, somewhat of a mental preparation for himself. Because he knows from experience that as soon as you get your hands on him, truly on him , his mind is going to go flying completely out the window.
You’re the one to make the first move tonight, as you reach for the back of his head and pull him down to meet your lips in a soft kiss. It starts out slow, like you’re just tasting him, and as you lips caress his in a touch that feels feather-light, Hanta feels just a little bit like he’s drowning. In a good way.
Your hand stays on the back of his head, your fingers sneaking their way into his thick, dark hair. He can feel the way you entwine your fingers in the strands, which presumably squeezes some moisture from it as a drop of water rolls done the back of his neck. He can ignore it easily though as he focusses on you and the way you’re kissing and touching him. Your body is moving now, shifting as you bring yourself closer and then you really are on top of him, thighs on either side of his hip bones as you push him gently down into the mattress.
Hanta sighs softly when you pull away from the kiss. For a moment he stays as he is, head flopped back against the pillow with his eyes closed and his heart pounding away in his chest. But then he feels your hand shift, come up to his face. You fingers drift across his forehead, pushing away one long strand of black hair to tuck it back by his ear. That’s when he opens his eyes and meets your gaze in the darkened room. And what he sees only makes him grin.
You’re gorgeous, so damn gorgeous. You have been since he’d first met you but now as he stares up at you, seeing the way your hair frames your face and your eyes are still half-lidded from sleep, it stokes the fire that’s always burning in his heart just for you. For a very brief moment, he’s taken back to the first time he’d ever kissed you, back in middle school when you’d both played truth or dare at a birthday party, and you’d both been unceremoniously shoved into a closet for a round of Seven Minutes In Heaven when it came time for his turn, and how he’d sat across from you in the dark, scared out of his mind, until you’d kissed him yourself.
It’s totally different from the kisses you share now. That had been a simple peck between two friends, done to appease the masses of middle schoolers at a birthday party. What you have now is mature, it’s sensual, it’s heavy. It makes his toes curl and his heart pound, and has the muscles in his lower abdomen fluttering. But it’s you still, always you.
He finds that there’s something very beautiful about that.
“Hanta,” you whisper down to him in a soft, sweet voice. “Hanta, touch me.”
And he does, gladly.
His hands go to your thighs, your soft, bare thighs which line his hips. He slips his fingers up them, feeling your skin, mapping out the shape of each one. He follows them upwards, reaches your hips. Then he grips you and pulls your body a little, shifting you on top of him so you’re lined up right where he needs you.
You moan a little at the feeling and the sound almost makes Hanta’s eyes roll back. He forces himself to hold out though, determined to drag things out for your sake. It’s been a while since either of you did anything more than a five minute fuck in the shower and if Hanta is honest with himself, he’s desperate for the intimacy that you provide. He needs you, yes, but he also needs everything that you represent. And he’s determined to make this good.
You lean down when he drags you over his crotch for a second time, your lips going back to his jaw. Hanta’s eyes slip closed as you kiss along his skin, sucking harder once you’ve made your way a little further down his neck. He lets go of your hips and allows his hands to continue on their journey up your body, going first to your waist then to your back and then to your shoulders. His thumbs rub up against where he can feel your collarbones beneath your skin, and then he kisses you again, on the mouth, slow and sensual in a way that all but screams “I'm going to make you feel good.”
You moan against his lips and then whimper when his tongue slips out. It meets yours and the kiss is deepened; enough so that Hanta can’t really help the way his hips roll upward to grind into you once again. You reciprocate immediately and then Hanta lets out a whine of his own as he feels one of your hands sliding from his shoulder to his chest and then further down his abdomen.
“Fuck, baby-” he whispers out into a silence, only met with a soft hum of approval from you. “Baby, you’re so-!”
“I'm here,” you breathe out to him, right against his lips. Your other hand goes to grab at his own, where it’s still settled on your shoulder. And then you move it yourself, pulling it away from your collarbone to press his palm up against the soft bulge of your breast. “Keep touching me while I touch you, my love.”
The sound of your voice is all that's needed for Hanta to melt completely, and the actual words you're saying are just a bonus. He’s totally desperate by now, completely and totally lost in you, and so he does as you ask and massages slowly at the soft flesh of your breast. You hum in approval as your hand continues to slide down his body, and then a soft groan slips from between your lips as he pinches at your nipple through the t-shirt you’re wearing, rolling it slowly between his thumb and forefinger.
“I love you,’ he whispers up to you and catches the smile you flash down to him in return.
“I adore you,” you whisper down to him in reply and then lean forward to kiss his lips again. At the same time your hand, still sliding lower, finally finds what you're looking for. Hanta's body jolts a little as your fingers rub up and over the bulge in his sweats, and then he lets out an audible whimper.
"Holy-"
You smile against him and then pull away properly to sit back a little further so you all but tower over him. Hanta feels his heart rate begin to speed up as he gazes up at you with adoring eyes. His hand is still on your beast, and he makes a special effort to pinch at your nipper again to get your attention. You respond by increasing the pressure on his dick by just a little before backing off again, and smirking like a fucking deviant when Hanta huffs out a complaint.
"We're equal," you whisper softly to him, rolling your hips forward a little as you do so. "Tease m and I'll tease you back."
Despite his desperation, Hanta manages to find it in himself to quirk his eyebrow at you. "Tease you?" he says, a smirk of his own tugging at his mouth. "Baby, you haven't seen shit yet."
You tilt your head a little to the side, your eyes sparkling, and Hanta suddenly gets the feeling this is exactly exactly you want from him. Not that he minds; he's very very happy to give whatever you desire.
"Oh?" You ask him, blinking in the most innocent way you can. Hanta feels something crack within him.
"What if…" he asks you slowly, as his hand leaves your chest and beginning to trail down your body. "What if… I do this ?"
It's easy to get to that spot between your legs with how you're straddling him. And Hanta can't deny how the widening of your eyes in soft surprise when he trails his fingers over your clothed core sends a spark of dark, hot want right through his gut.
You're only wearing panties. Very thin ones that do absolutely nothing to conceal how hot you are between your legs. Or how wet .
Hanta feels himself suck in a shaky breath when he first feels it, how there's actually a damp spot darkening the fabric of your underwear. The tip of his finger brushes over it once in his initial exploration, and then returns almost immediately, and he presses against you with a little more pressure. It has you jumping a little at the touch, and your eyes roll back briefly as a shock of pleasure rushing through you. Hanta can't help but smile.
"See," he tells you as he continues to stroke through your panties. "This is teasing, sweet girl."
You hum a little in response, your face flushing slightly. But when you force your eyes open and look down at him once again, you gaze is only slightly clouded.
"I suppose I've gotta return the favour, huh?"
You grip on his crotch tightens just a bit once again and Hanta just about chokes. "Yeah, that'd be nice," he manages to hiss through his teeth, his breath jumping in his chest as pleasure spikes through his abdomen briefly.
You let out a soft snort and adjust the shoulder of your t-shirt a little before you settle into a rhythm. Your hand is so warm against him, heat that seeps through his thick material of his sweatpants and right down to his cock. He was already achingly hard before this, and you're only making everything so much more intense . So much so that he almost forgets that he's supposed to be touching you.
Almost.
His fingers press up against you when his mind returns to the task at hand, enough to get you to falter in your own movements. And then he takes complete advantage of your limp form and flips you right over, so your back is pressed to the mattress and he's now supporting himself on his forearms above you.
You don't seem surprised by the switch. If anything it's like you were expecting it when you reach for him, hand curling around the back of his head so you can pull him down to kiss him again. At the same time you grab at his wrist and all but shove his hand between your legs.
Hanta takes that as his cue and slips his hand into the confines of your panties. His fingertips trail over the familiar feeling of your body until they find what he's looking for. And he moans into your mouth when they do, his brain buffering for a good feel seconds at the feeling of how fucking wet you are.
You whine under him as his fingertips tease along your entrance, gathering up your slick and massaging it into the soft skin of your labia. Your hips jump a little and you inhale sharply. And then you moan properly when he bypasses everything else to dip one long finger right inside your core.
"H-Hanta, ah fuck!"
Hanta finds himself smiling at the breathiness of your voice, almost a little giddy. More blood rushes to his cock as he stares down at you, watching the way your face twists up and your mouth forms the shape of an 'o' as he curls his finger just a little inside you. Getting you off has always gotten him off, right from the start of your sexual relationship, and even now he can just about feel the nerves in his crotch working overtime, as his aching dick is straining at the material of his sweats.
You let out a choked noise when he slides his finger up to rub tight circles over your clit. Your slick has his fingers slipping against you, absolutely soaked, and the feeling spurs him on. He needs you, he fucking needs you . But first, he needs you to come.
“I’m here, gorgeous,” he whispers down to you as he leans forward to put his mouth by your ear. He feels you shiver under him as his breath ghosts across the skin of your neck, and then a ripple passes up your body as his pace on your clit quickens. Your thighs threaten to clamp together but Hanta sets his hips between them, preventing them from closing. And then he leans down to mouth at your neck and shoulder, all but smothering you in his love.
You whine and whimper, your voice growing higher, and Hanta recognises the way the muscles in your abdomen clamp up. Your hand comes up, freeing itself to slide up into his hair, and Hanta can’t help but let out a moan of his own when you wind your fingers into it and tug .
“Oh god ,” you choke out. Your thighs start to shake, and your hips buck up as your other hand scratches along the muscles of his back.
Hanta makes sure to kiss you as you come, sealing his lips to yours and invading your mouth with his tongue. You moan into him, your entire body rippling with pleasure as he feels your pussy pulse against his hand. And when he pulls back, once you’ve rolled off your high, he grins.
“Good?”
“Good,” you mumbled back. Your hand stays where it is in his hair. “More.”
Hanta doesn’t even need to ask. He can see the desire in your eyes and after years of getting to know you and your body, he understands what you need and when. And so he wastes not a single second in ripping his sweatpants and boxers down, kicking them away as gracefully as possible so he can settle himself back between your thighs.
You raise one leg immediately, and hook it up over his shoulder. And then Hanta feels it properly; the sticky glide of your soaking cunt across his cock. He chokes and then moans, his head dropping into the crook of your head as he balances himself on his forearms. You tilt your head back in response and let him kiss your skin as he gives a few experimental rocks forward, grinding himself up against you. You’re so wet, the skin of his cock is soaked already. And he can hear it in the way you’re whimpering with each grind; you need him just as much as he needs you.
He doesn’t wait much longer; he can't . He just reaches down to take himself in his hand, situating himself. And then, with a single, practiced thrust of his hips, he slips into you.
Your back arches upwards at the feeling, and the moan you let out is so fucking sweet it almost makes Hanta. You’re so familiar around him, your pussy warm and welcoming, and still so fucking tight. Hanta shudders at the feeling, his breaths becoming uneven as he struggles to ground himself for a moment.
But then he feels the tug of your fingers in his hair. And he feels the way you’re shaking under him, your breaths coming out as shaky little whimpers as you pull his head even further against your neck.
He kisses your skin. Once, twice, three times; as a reminder, and a comforter. To tell you he loves you. And then he rolls his hips.
Neither of you last much longer after that. And neither of you mind. The exhaustion is catching up and Hanta’s thrusts are sloppy right from the start. Your moans are lazy in his ear, as you let the pleasure take hold of you completely, and when Hanta raises his head briefly to kiss you on the lips, it’s messy and uncoordinated. Hanta doesn’t even care though, as with each roll of his hips, more and more pleasures spikes up his spine. You’re pulsing around him, sucking him in over and over, and he can feel his high building already. In anticipation, he reaches down to sloppy rub his thumb over your clit. You clamp down on him immediately, your walls tightening around his cock to the point that he’s almost choking. And then, only a few strokes later, you come undone.
The moans you let out, right in his ear, coupled with the pulsing of your cunt around his cock is all Hanta needs to come himself. And so he lets go with a groan, collapsing forward on top of you as he does so.
The pair of you lay there for a long while after, basking in the feeling of each other. Hanta’s breathing slows after a while, and he finds himself nuzzling into your neck. Your one hand is still in his hair, with you leg having slipped down to rest over his hips, and he can feel the other tracing up and down his sweaty back as you too come down from your orgasm. Your fingernails scratch lightly against his skin, mapping out the contours of his muscles. And then up, into his hair, where you play idly with a few of the longer strands that curl around the base of his neck.
For a while, there’s silence, broken only by the sound of both of your soft breathing. Then you turn your head a little, your lips ghosting over his temple, and mumble, “I love you,” into his hair.
Warmth blossoms deep in Hanta’s chest. He raises his head, balances himself on one forearm so he can look down at you properly. For a moment he studies your face, your features, tracing each one with his eyes. Then he leans down to leave a long, gentle kiss on your still slightly sweaty forehead.
“I love you too.”
#sero hanta x reader#hanta sero x reader#sero x reader#hanta sero#sero hanta#sero fanfic#boku no hero academia x reader#bnha fanfic#mha fanfic#my hero academia#sunshine#💙 blue's fics
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Tumblr is being stubborn with me, so I have a screenshot of @the-rocket-scientist ‘s ask. This can also be accessed on ao3 here!
Hiiiii!!! I had a lot of fun writing this <3
Hi kids! Do you like violence? Because this story is filled with it <3
I haven’t taken a single anatomy class when I was in high school/college so I apologize for any inaccuracies. This fic gets a bit bloody. For those that are squeamish I’d recommend reading something else.
You were the only human that had the guts to deal with Lucifer’s work. But he never turned, nor experimented on you. He never gave an explanation why.
You considered yourself a secretary of sorts, despite not having a front desk. You and the rest of the alternates’ work was highly confidential. A literal stack of papers had to be signed before you actually became his assistant. It felt like you were selling your soul to the company.
“Refusal to sign these forms or rejection will result in fatal consequences. Do you wish to proceed?”
Lucifer was so forward sometimes. Cold, yet organized in his work.
“…Yes?”
So why were you falling for this bastard of a scientist?
Your objective tonight was accompanying him during an autopsy. One of the human’s hearts filled with black blood mid transformation, sealing off the airways. This was both new and interesting to the rest of the lab. It would be studied greatly and a huge opportunity for larger discoveries.
“Bonesaw.” Lucifer held out his gloved hand, his eyes focused on the open corpse in front of him.
Clean instruments made for surgery were aligned on a tray between the two of you. Some looked as if they arrived straight from an operating room, while the rest mimicked torture devices from horror movies.
You didn’t hesitate on giving Lucifer the bonesaw. In the past, you watched him curl his hands around a ribcage and tear it open. The aftermath that day was…brutal to watch. Those plain white walls were splattered with blood. At least you weren’t the one chosen to clean it up.
Thank…someone for goggles and protective gear. OSHA?
“Tell me, what do you notice about this human’s lungs?” Lucifer turned towards you after successfully slicing through the ribs. You couldn’t tell how he was feeling through the protective mask covering his face.
The morgue was cramped with shelves, and there was little space to stand. The room was only meant for two or three people at a time.
Failed body parts were preserved in unknown substances, while a skeleton hung on display in the corner. You hoped it was made of plaster, but that intelligent mind of yours told you it was real.
The smell was the worst, taking a full week to get used to. You knew behind those freezer doors; other bodies lay motionless inside with tags on their ankles. In all honesty, they were the lucky ones.
Lucifer’s entire being was distracting if you were straight up truthful.
You wondered if he knew about your feelings towards him.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“The corpse, my dear assistant. What’s different?” Lucifer knew the answer, but he wanted you to figure it out. “We should practice on concentration next time.”
How in the hell were you supposed to focus when this fine of a mad doctor was staring you down?
You paused for a moment. “The lungs are dry, and the heart bleeds black instead of blue.”
He seemed satisfied. “Very good. Now hand me that seraded knife.”
Now was your chance. “So…I’ve been thinking. We’ve been working overtime the past week.” You said as you inspected his tools.
Lucifer raised an eyebrow at you as he carefully cut around the ventricles. “Yes? And?”
“Maybe we could spend one night off? Six and the rest of the alternates have this place on lockdown. We don’t even have to leave.” You shrugged as he placed the organ in a biohazard proof bag.
Lucifer stopped. “We spend time with each other every day. You are my assistant after all.”
You grit your teeth, trying to hold back the frustration in your voice. “I mean the other kind of time.”
He seemed to be catching on. “…I’m busy. Now, hand me the syringe. We need to dispose of-“
Fuck it.
“Busy with what?! Every other failed experiment that sits in this damn facility?!”
Lucifer dropped the threaded needle on the tray. He tore off the mask with one hand. “Our current subject is missing! Do you care at all about your career?! Did you even READ the forms you signed?!”
“Lucifer I didn’t mean-“
His face heated up. “We’re so close to reaching a perfect alternate! And you want to quit now?!”
Your eyes widened. Lucifer never yelled at you. Tear droplets formed in the corners of your eyes, and he realized his mistake.
“Oh, no…no please.”
You choked down a sob and turned away, not wanting him to see you like this. “Forget I asked. It’s nothing.” Quickly, you removed your gear and made a beeline for the door.
“Wait!”
“Goodnight, Lucifer. Until tomorrow.” You didn’t look back as you swiped your key card.
After a much-needed shower, you changed into comfy clothes and spent the rest of your night in your room. It was paid for by the Mandela Facility, resembling a college dorm so you were closer to work.
You missed your chance alright…It was a stupid idea in the first place. A bad decis-
Someone knocking at your door distracted you from your thoughts. The first sounded heavy, then grew softer.
“If Lucifer sent you, I’d rather-“
Until you heard a voice call your name.
“Please talk to me.”
You opened your door to find your boss standing in the hall. He wore the same outfit from earlier, besides any medical gear.
“Did I wake you?” Lucifer said, shifting awkwardly when you glared at him. “…Don’t answer that.”
You sighed. “Come in, and close the door behind you.” An uncomfortable silence filled the room as he followed you inside.
Getting comfy on your couch, he sat across from you. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I mean it! And maybe you’re right. We have been working overtime. I’m just…stressed.”
Your eyes narrowed. Was he showing weakness towards you? “Maybe, or I am right? Those are two huge differences, Lucifer.”
He sighed. “Yes, you are. Without the asset, we could lose so much- I mean-” He stopped when you glared daggers at him. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t know I meant so much to you.”
You nearly dropped your drink at that last part. “Say that again.”
“I didn’t know I meant so much to you?”
This made you grin. “I forgive you, on one occasion.” This seemed to intrigue him. “We get to leave early tomorrow.”
Lucifer chuckled. “Fine, my little assistant. Do you prefer red or white wine?”
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Bearial: Chapter Two
for @inklings-challenge
previous chapter
It wasn’t snow.
Now, you or I might pick that up immediately, potentially having our own experiences with snow, but it wasn’t until Albert stood, stared up at a sky overcast with cottony white clouds dripping what he thought was snow, and tilted his head back to catch the falling flakes in his mouth that he came to realize what you’ve already been told. His eyes widened in surprise, and he knelt down, took a handful of the stuff from the ground next to him, and licked it from his fingertips.
“Ice cream?” he said, staring at the white froth all around him. “How can this be?”
Perhaps it would have been smarter to think that instead of to say it aloud, but Albert believed himself to be alone and spoke into that loneliness the same way you or I might – not necessarily to hear ourselves talk or comfort ourselves with the sound of our own voices, but we wouldn’t think to not. Because sometimes, when you’re shocked or in awe, you are stricken with silence but with a compulsion to say Wow. He might not have said that exactly, but that is what he said.
Wow.
Albert looked behind him. The shimmering hovered in the air here just like it had in the woods on the other side. He stuck his hand through, and it disappeared just like it had before. For a moment, he considered walking through again, just to prove to himself that he still could, but his curiosity got the best of him. Surely, the shimmering was just the same here as it was in the woods there. As long as he marked his spot, he should be able to find it again.
The easiest mark of memory would be his own footprints in the ice cream snow, but while Albert thought about that, he eventually decided against it. He wanted something more permanent, something that couldn’t be filled in by the still slowly falling ice cream flakes. Eventually, he broke a branch off of a nearby tree and stabbed it as far into the ground as he could.
That will be it, Albert thought to himself. If all else fails, that will be my sign.
And, having made himself a sign, he started off in the direction he felt best.
~
Albert didn’t make it very far before he ran into someone else. Of course, he wouldn’t have considered them a someone when he first ran across them – wouldn’t and didn’t. In fact, the moment he first saw the bear, he took a sharp breath in and stopped. All around him were trees; he’d found himself in a wood of sorts just like he’d left one, only the trees were more sparse and he could eat from the snow covering whenever he wanted. So he tried to hide behind a tree and wait for the bear to leave.
Except that Albert was a bit bigger than the tree he hid behind and, more importantly, the great white bear had already seen him.
“Hello?” the great white bear called out, and when there was no answer, he held one huge paw up near his muzzle and called out even louder once more, “Hello? I see you over there, you know!”
Albert’s first instinct was to wince, which he did, and then his second instinct was to think, A talking bear? and wince again, but of a different sort of wince. He peeked out from around the tree, found the bear staring directly at him, and gave a squeamish, uncomfortable sort of smile. “Oh, um, hello.”
The great white bear gestured with his paw for Albert to join him. When Albert didn’t move, he sighed, which made a small puff of air that quickly dissipated. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, but it was so much softer than anything else that Albert barely caught it.
The soft, sad admittance hit like a bomb in Albert’s chest. His awkward smile turned down into a disappointed frown, and despite still being terrified – that was a bear, after all! – he forced himself forward. “I’m…I’m sorry,” he said as he grew closer, “only where I’m from, bears aren’t nice at all. They tend to attack people like me.”
“Well, those bears must be very rude! Their mothers must not have taught them any manners at all!”
Albert didn’t want to say that he didn’t think bears from where he was from knew manners. That seemed like a quick and easy way to make the great white bear across from him mad at him, and something told him that making a bear mad – whether they knew manners or not – was not a great idea. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d ever personally talked to a bear before. For all he knew, maybe they did know manners, and he was the one not following them.
So, like a good gentleman who knows good manners, Albert made his way across the snow that was ice cream, stuck out his hand, and said, “Pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m Albert Ross. What’s your—”
But the bear didn’t take his hand. Instead, the bear pulled him into a bear hug quite as great as he was. “Colbert, my boy!” He patted Albert’s back with one huge paw and then stepped back, front paws on both of Albert’s shoulders. It was possible that he was smiling down at him, but all Albert saw was his large, sharp teeth baring down at him. “You look just like a friend of mine!” His face fell. “Just like him,” he repeated, gravely voice that much softer.
It was only then that Colbert’s name clicked.
“Colbert,” Albert said, echoing the bear, his brow furrowing. “Colbert the Cold Bear?”
Colbert’s eyes lit up. “Yes, exactly! That’s just what the young master—” The bear’s voice cut off, and he dropped to all fours, his deep, coal black eyes just at Albert’s height. “Did you just say you’re an albatross?” His tone suddenly grew dark. “We already have one albatross here, and we really cannot handle the weight of another—”
“No, no, no!” Albert waved his hands in front of him and stepped backward, away from the bear. “Albert. Ross. Not one word!”
It took a second before Colbert responded. He puzzled over it for a moment, and it is impossible for me to describe just what that looks like, other than to say that his snout wrinkled quite a bit. Then he said, “It isn’t Alba Dross, is it?”
Albert blinked twice. “No.” He tried to say it as slowly as he could, enunciating each word exactly. “Al. Bert. Ross.”
“Oh,” Colbert said as though he understood but in the tone of still not quite understanding. “Owl Bertross.”
It still wasn’t quite right, but it was better than the rest, so Albert gave an uneasy nod. “Close enough.”
Colbert stared at him a little longer. “Are you sure you’re an owl,” he said, his expression unreadable, “and not a Firf?”
Albert blinked twice. If he was his dad, he might have removed his glasses and rubbed them clean with the edge of his shirt as he thought, but he didn’t have any glasses other than his dad’s, and it wouldn’t do him any good to clean them now. “What’s a Firf?”
“Well, it’s only that you look a lot like an old friend of mine, and he was a Firf. Said it all the time, like it was part of his name.” Colbert chuckled. “Only that’s how we all are, he was just so specific. Tom E, a Firf. Instead of having Firf in his name like the rest of us.” He shrugged. “Maybe that’s just how Firfs are. Wouldn’t know, haven’t ever met another one of them.”
Albert stared at Colbert. He stared, and he blinked, and his head tilted to one side, and he didn’t have any glasses to remove, so he just played with the edge of his shirt a bit because his hands needed to do something but he couldn’t think of anything to do because he was having a hard time thinking at all. “You know Tommy?”
Colbert’s eyes lit up. “I thought you looked like him!” He grinned in that way that only bears could and attempted to pat Albert’s shoulder, only it was a bit too hard and uncomfortable. “You come with your good friend Colbert, and meet my wife, and we’ll have a good old talk about Tom. E!”
If he was honest with himself, really honest with himself, Albert didn’t want to go anywhere with Colbert. Sure, the bear seemed nice, and he’d been very insistent about manners, but that didn’t mean he would be like that the longer they were with each other, and it certainly didn’t say anything about his wife.
But Colbert knew Tommy. Or once knew Tommy, which felt even less comforting. And despite everything he needed to return back to Earth and do, Albert even more needed to know what happened to his cousin.
So despite his own concerns, Albert gave a little nod of acceptance and followed the bear farther from the rippling in the air.
#bandit fic#burial with albert ross#original fic#inklingschallenge#team lewis#genre: portal fantasy#theme: burial#story: incomplete#i'm being so much slower than i expected on this and i'm so sorry
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Turtle headcanons but almost all are about Donnie (movie spoilers)
- Spiny softshell turtles (I think thats what he is) have stripes from their eyes down to their neck and are covered in spots. I made those purple like the canon shoulder stripes. The extra stripes and spots became more noticeable after the movie when he was around 17/18.
- Spiny softshell turtles are not adapted well to handle changes in oxygen levels so Donnie has asthma
- Donnie is the younger twin
- He had glasses when he was younger but not during the show time because he outgrew them and has put off finding a suitable replacement because he hates the way the temples of them squish against his head when he also has his headphones/goggles on.
- Actually very squeamish around blood/major injuries but was unfortunately delegated to the stand-in medic after the events of the movie since Leo was out of commission.
- More of an ‘all the turtles’ thing but they go through three major growth spurts, (look at the babies compared to the tots compared to the show compared to future leo like woah there) one from 1-3, one at around 11, one at 18-20. The one at 18-20 gives them some more unique features like the spots, makes them even taller, and finishes their brain development (like humans at 25).
- Mikey caps out at 5′5 cause apparently all that growth went to his mystic powers. Donnie gets to 6′9 and Leo gets to 6′7. Raph gets to 7′2. Their new base after the movie is bigger.
- Will Wood listener
- Wants to go to comic-con type things but the idea of all those people makes him nauseated. If he did he would get fake tusks and very easily pass as a troll from world of warcraft cosplayer.
- He’s so used to taking notes/designing things/etc on a computer that combined with the turtle hands he has the worst handwriting of the four of them.
- Bi + demiromantic
- Best swimmer of all of them and can breathe underwater. Forgets that the others can’t breathe underwater very often.
- The worst case of resting murder face you’ve ever seen, to the point where he regularly practices ‘proper’ facial expressions/reactions in the mirror in order to not freak out strangers.
- That wrong tooth Leo took out when they were kids did not grow back properly and its on a little tilt towards the front of his mouth. He has considered removing it and replacing it with a gold one Just For The Look but has resigned himself not to.
- Him and Raph were the bite-y kids. Raph grew out of it because of his fear of hurting his brothers by accident. Donnie did not. Definitely bites peoples arms to show affection and absolutely was given a dog chew toy by Leo for one of his birthdays. Actually uses it sometimes but nobody knows because it would be really embarrassing.
- In the Bad Future, taught Casey how to swim, do math, history, etc. Went out when Casey was 12, defending and evacuating the rebel base after they were found. To get everyone else out he had to remotely operate a lot of things and couldn’t escape with them.
#rottmnt#rottmnt movie#rottmnt movie spoilers#rottmnt donnie#donatello#tmnt#tmnt donatello#rottmnt mikey#rottmnt raph#rottmnt leo#my art#rottmnt headcanons
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fnaf au pt2: electric boogaloo
i literally copy pasted this from my notes OAHAHAHAH
What I remember from the old one (since it disappeared from my notes for some reason):
It was a Phonemike centered AU
Tattoo/Flower Shop cliche thing
William and Henry still run the diner, they’re gonna be running it till they can’t (or until Liz and Evan kick them out)
Mike was supposed to take over the diner, but he had a different dream of running his own flower shop, so Liz and Evan would take it over
P.G. ran his own tattoo parlor
Implied Willry
(This original “AU” was literally made as a joke n only reason im rewriting it is cause im not really even friends with them anymore 💀)
REWRITE:
Willry CANON. Not just implied. Those old men are QUEER
William got a divorce around the time the diner first opened, around the time he would’ve killed the kids. Instead, Henry helped him through it, having gone through one himself beforehand.
Elizabeth and CHARLIE, will be taking over the diner. They’ve been best friends since childhood (practically sisters considering their dads fucking yk)
Evan isn’t afraid of the diner anymore, but he gets a little squeamish around the animatronics. He is an adult now, after all.
Mike did not want to take over the diner, as he has other dreams in mind, but he still works at the diner, in hopes to stay with his family.
The animatronics are not possessed. No children died. They have malfunctioned before, but it was nothing special. No one got hurt.
Mike did bully his brother. It was all for attention, as this was around the time his father was going through the divorce, and he was paying less attention to them all. Michael acted out for attention, as did Elizabeth too.
Once the prank with Fredbear came around, one of his friends brought up the idea. He went along with it, thinking they’d just lift him up close to him. Once they tried stuffing his head in Fredbear’s mouth, he snapped and screamed at them. He brought Evan to the backroom and gave him a snack to calm him down. Neither of them told William.
After the prank, Michael stopped hanging around with his friends, instead spending more time with his family.
As an adult, every month or two the old gang gets back together and hangs out, just like old times. Mike realized they were all just stupid teenagers at the time, and forgave them.
Anytime any of the kids needed to go anywhere, they’d all pile up in Mike’s crappy ass car and drive around town, getting everything they needed to do done.
After Mike stopped spending time with his friends, he met this kid. His name was PG, and he had a phone for a head. At least, that’s what he claimed. He thought the kid was weird, and he avoided him at first. Though, they always seemed to meet up in strange situations. They were always sort of awkward, but in a comfortable way.
They met up years later, when they were both adults, at the diner. PG had applied for a job there, and had been working under Henry to learn to manage and clean the animatronics. Mike was baffled when he walked into work to find his father, and instead found PG covered in dirt and oil and working on Fredbear.
They had a casual reunion, which left Michael as the more awkward one whereas PG was casual and happy to see him.
Basically Michael gay moment real
PG’s name is actually Percy Granger. He finds his name stupid, and instead calls himself PG.
Michael nicknamed him ‘Printer Guy’ after an incident where the diner printer spat ink at him. (not my idea but I loved it so had to put it in. thx m)
Everyone assumes ‘PG’ stands for Phone Guy, considering the giant phone on his head. He finds it annoying, but doesn’t bother to correct anyone anymore.
the established timelines and more background info on each of the characters will probably come next. holding off on designs for a bit
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miyawaki sakura. cis woman. she/her. bisexual. ⇝ hey, isn’t that hoshino rika? i think that the twenty-six year old from minamisatsuma, kagoshima, japan works as the psychic at the raven house, but outside of that people describe them as moons and stars and celestial lights against a night sky, fairy lights strewn across the wall, windchimes twinkling in the breeze, vague silhouettes and shadows glimpsed between the curtains. i hear they are evasive & an overthinker, but they are also known to be curious & hardworking. consider giving them a visit at their home in seal harbor apartments and get to know why they’re called the secret charm.
the names above are written according to their native japanese format (surname, first name). to clarify, this character's given name is rika!
IMPORTANT LINKS: will be added when they're ready!
BASICS
The Kanji for her full name is 星野梨華 and I deliberately incorporated 星 into her name as it means star! Usually surnames don't need to have a meaning so i'm only pointing this out bc it was a creative choice. (btw i know there's a popular anime rn where the protags have the same surname, with the same kanji, but that's a coincidence; i haven't watched the show and i made rika before the manga was even published.)
She grew up in a small city called Minamisatsuma, located in the southernmost region of mainland Japan (Kagoshima), and was always surrounded by the ocean. Alaska's proximity to the coast puts her at ease for this reason, even if the difference in climate has been a big change.
She has a pet cat; a little black cat with with big round eyes and she's called Charmy. She's kind of silly and a bit of a menace. Because Rika doesn't feel safe letting her roam but knows that her apartment isn't quite big enough to expend Charmy's excess energy, she has been known to take her cat on walks with a harness.
Rika lives in the Seal Harbor apartment complex but she rarely tells people that fact. Having worked in Kabukicho (a relatively seedy area) for a couple years, she always tries to err on the side of caution. As a young woman doing work that might spark unpleasant emotion reactions, she finds it safer to claim that she lives in Delilah's Den instead. That, and it fits the witchy character she's taken to playing at work much better.
She's a bit of a bookworm. A total bookworm, actually. She spent most of her childhood with her nose in a book, mostly stories and fiction but she has been known to spend hours researching topics that interest her. She's got a quick mind and loves to learn. All this extra information has proven quite useful in her cold readings.
Ever the overthinker, Rika has some concerns about the general ethics of her work, especially when it comes to the matter of lying to people (she tries to keep to vague embellishments as best as she can) but it helps to think of herself as a performer. It's all an act and people are encouraged to take from it what they will.
Rika loves horror and all things spooky. Because of her reserved nature, people might expect her to be quite squeamish but she's braver than she looks! That said, she likes cute-spooky best of all. Halloween is easily her favourite time of year and she's been known to go all out when buying decorations; for Rika, it's one of the biggest positives about moving to the States.
In the kitchen space of her apartment, you'll find a corkboard covered with notes and photos and mementos. You'll also find a photograph of a young man (he's Sho, you'll learn about him later!) whose face has been drawn on. Devil horns, angry eyebrows, stink lines. The works. If you ask Rika about it, she'll just tell you it's 'some useless asshole'. Do not assume that's her ex.
BACKGROUND
please note that this backstory makes references to a few named characters besides rika. they will not be opened as wanted connections, as these are all existing ocs of mine (they're mostly npcs but sho is specifically a character i have actively written).
MINAMISATSUMA, KAGOSHIMA
Rika had always considered her childhood to be a fairly ordinary one; she had two parents and three siblings (one older sister and two younger brothers, a pair of twins), and rode her bike to school every day like any other kid. Everything was always normal, simple, uneventful and maybe even a little boring. But, as the years went on, Rika started to find that she was more spiritually inclined than other children her age and her intuition was so sharp that it sometimes frightened her. (Those around her had started to joke that she could predict the weather better than the official forecast.) Never one to rock the boat, she tried not to bring it up too often and nobody ever seemed to mind but, in her own time, she grew to harbour an interest in the mysterious and unusual.
When she was thirteen, her dad was given a promotion that saw the whole family packing up and moving to Tokyo. The shift was staggering, it seemed to Rika like an entirely different world. Suddenly, she wasn't normal anymore. Overnight, she'd become the quiet new girl with weird interests. She was eventually able to make friends but only after months of sideways glances and whispers. Junior High had not been gentle on Rika.
By the time she got to high school though, things had changed. People had gotten used to Rika's sharp instincts and even started to take interest. Girls would hover outside her classroom, peering through the windows as they waited for her to come out and let them test her. Cold readings based on gut instinct, answers to questions like 'what number am I thinking of?', so on and so forth. She didn't get it right every time but it was enough for people to be impressed. After months of students begging her insight on to their entrance exam performance, Rika was worn out. Graduation was a blessing.
Shortly after graduation, Rika's family ended up moving back to Kagoshima. However, having already gotten into a good University to study Japanese Literature, Rika stayed behind and got her own tiny apartment in Tokyo.
SHINJUKU, TOKYO
Rika was quick to find work to support herself while she worked on her studies; she got a job as a cashier in a little bookstore that specialised in the occult. Although her experiences growing up kept her from telling anybody about her talents, she had never let go of that interest in all things strange and unexplained. It was a perfect job for her and she continued to work there for the entirety of her academic career. Her coworkers were Hayato, the nephew of the shop's owner and son of a television illusionist, and Sumire, the daughter of a wealthy family whose idea of rebellion was getting into retail work.
About two years into working there, a new regular started showing his face. Rika quickly learned that he was a good friend of Hayato's and had previously worked at the bookshop, having been replaced by Rika almost as soon as he had left. His name was Tsukidate Sho and he was...an interesting character; he'd quit his bookstore job at twenty-two, head filled with haphazard dreams of becoming an unlicensed private detective. (Hayato had ensured her that Sho had a real and valid motive but it too sensitive a subject to share with her, despite Sho's own claims that he wanted to get paid for being nosy.) Regardless, it didn't take Rika very long to get used to his bewildering presence and she even soon befriended him.
Eventually, Rika grew to trust this ragtag team of friends enough to tell them about her apparent gifts. She admitted she wasn't really sure if it was anything special at all, that she was sure it was probably just good judgement. Sumire told her, 'You've either got freaky powers or you're just freaky smart. Either way, it's freaky.' And yet, for the first time, nobody cared all that much. To them, she was still just Rika.
By the time Rika had graduated from University, it seemed like Sho had grown disillusioned with life as a private detective. Week after week, she'd hear him complain that all he ever had to work on were adultery cases. One day, Sho pulled Rika aside and proclaimed he had a plan, a great plan, and he needed her help. Sho's was from Kawagoe, a city in Saitama known for having maintained it's Edo-era architecture and, as it turned, his family had upheld a tradition of fortune telling for generations. The plan was as follows— they'd set up their own fortune telling and psychic reading business, with Rika as the face of it, using her talents wherever possible, while Sho used his skills to hunt out information on the customers. A mix of cold and hot reading at once. He would teach her the skills he'd gained growing up, things like showmanship and similar little flourishes. Rika had her doubts at first, not wanting to scam or fraud anybody, but Sho insisted that most people didn't believe this stuff, that they were selling an experience. She recalled her experiences at school and how much trouble people had caused her just for that same experience. She agreed to his plan.
Setting up shop in Sho's office in Kabukicho, Tokyo's answer to a red light district, the two would work together for a couple of years, with Rika juggling the scheme with her bookstore job, and they made a surprisingly good team. Eventually, they got close enough for Sho to explain himself, why he'd gotten into the business of being a private detective. When he was just a kid, maybe about fourteen years old, his best friend had gone missing. Sho was the last person to see him but there was a big dark gap in his memory between that last sighting and Sho coming to his senses. Despite his best efforts, he'd never been able to find any answers and the only appeasement he'd ever found was looking into the problems of others.
At some point, Sho had developed a fascination with the mysteries surrounding Anchorage and became fixated on the idea of hunting for answers himself. Before long, he'd become set on moving over there and he swore that, if Rika came with him, they could continue to work together. Rika paid out of her own pocket for English lessons and studied as hard as she could. Before long, they were ready to leave. Rika would go on ahead first, as Sho had a case to finish up, and they would reunite later. They never reunited.
ANCHORAGE, ALASKA
At first, Rika had feared for the worst. Sho's job was hardly free of danger. The only way she could contact Sho was by email and it took her a couple of weeks to get decent access to her inbox. When she finally got access to everything, there was nothing. Another month passed before she finally heard from Sho. In his email, he explained that he'd gotten caught up with a new, interesting case and that the scope of meant he wouldn't be making it to Anchorage after all but he was sure she'd do great on her own. Needless to say, Rika was pissed.
Thankfully, she was still able to do exactly what she set out to do. She had been worried about finding work with her degree but she'd quickly come upon the Raven House. Seeing that they didn't appear to have anybody working as psychic, Rika immediately put herself forward. At this point, it was all she really knew how to do.
Only months after Rika arrived, Monique Jackson's body was discovered. So, she had thought, this is Anchorage.
#« 𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗮。 » / 「 intro. 」#anchorintro#i'm not proud of how long it took for me to finally get around to this :|#but i'm v happy with the graphic i made for this hehe i think it's cute#i might edit this later if i read over it but rn i just kind of want to get it posted x___x sorry if there are any mistakes
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hello I hope you are well 🌹 I don't know if the orders are open but I can order a request of how the Turks would react when they find out that their partner the reader is a vampire?
they are! sorry about the late response i kind of forgot that tumblr had an ask box feature ^^; i'll only do 3 since i cant do all of them at once, but i can do more later if you'd like. hope you enjoy!
𝚃𝚞𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚅𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
𝚃𝚆: HUGE TW FOR BLOOD, brief suggestive content, slut shaming reno (affectionate)
𝚁𝚎𝚗𝚘:
"Haha, very funny Y/n. Vampires aren't real, everyone knows that."
doesn't beleive you at first 💀
i mean why would he?? NO ONE thinks vampires exist. thats kind of the reason you've been able to survive for so long
you expected this response though,, and after a few minutes of convincing him that you're being dead fucking serious- you are a vampire -he seems to get a little... pale.
as in he looks genuinely fucking terrified
thing is- he's actually had a fear of vampires since he was a little kid??
im being so serious he was like,, genuinely terrified of them as a kid and hasn't ever fully gotten over it
i mean- its not a completely irrational fear to have, but how is he supposed to say that to you?? that he's terrified of your species and thinks you're all human mosquitos who prey on people in the night?
you almost regret telling him considering you've seen the look on his face a million times with others you've told, but it doesn't make seeing it on him any easier
part of the reason you loved him so much was because he made you feel normal for once in your life- like you belonged
and you almost feel like you've fucked that up for yourself as he looks at you, fears obviously turning in his head to try and formulate what to say
but before you can get any words out in apology he speaks up, taking in a deep breath beforehand to steady himself and looking you dead in the eye
"If... if you're being serious right now, then this doesn't change anything."
huh??
you blink at him a few times and he seems nervous when you tilt your head, a silent queue to elaborate
"It doesn't change how I feel about you. I still love you. Plus, at least you're not a werewolf. I hate dogs."
you both laugh at his comment and the air lightens up a little bit, and it seems that he was telling the truth about it not changing how he feels about you
i mean he's a little more conscious about what might be safe for you and what not be (like doing outside right before the sun goes down, making sure you have a good supply of food even though it makes him a little squeamish, stuff like that) but overal he treats you the same
expect mosquito or vampire jokes though. he already made shitty jokes but with your vampirism in mind he's going to be a fucking menace 💀💀💀
would probably be okay with you feeding on him but he might enjoy it a little TOO much and might not hide that he wants you to feed on him very well (dudes walking around with his shirt half open all the time but he gets sluttier trust me)
𝚃𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚐:
"..."
HELP HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY
for a second he thinks you're just messing with him and he's not catching it but he's pretty sure you're being serious and he's just ???
i mean it is kind of a weird situation, and why else would you pull him aside to talk privately when you knew he was working??
hes always been really perspective, but he's also very logical and so he passed the signs you were trying to hide off as something else
but now that you've told him and you dont look like you're joking in the sligtes, the dots start to connect
it explains why you hated going out during the day so much, and why when you DID go out you wore insane amounts of sunscreen and always wore covering clothing (he thought you just had sensitive skin tbh)
it explains why you barely every touched the food the two of you sat down to eat together. and why you didn't seem to like silver things that much. and why crucifixes bothered you. and why-
you get the idea
anyway he kinda just stares at you for a few seconds like he's just taking a second to process the information, but after a little bit (a lot a bit) of mutual silence he eventually speaks up and leans back in his chair
"Well, I'm not happy that you didn't tell me sooner."
you sigh in relief even though you'd probably have to explain why you felt like it was unsafe int he first place later, but for now you just felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders
tseng is already very attentive to your needs, and he approaches this new revelation like any sort of new information and treats it systematically since its how he deals with p much everything in his life
makes sure that you have an ample supply of food since he knows hunting can be a struggle sometimes, and he doesn't want you to catch any diseases (if vampires can even do that)
i dont think he'd be as open as reno to the idea, but that's mainly cause he's a bit nervous about the whole process and doesn't know the intricacies of it
he trusts you though, so he doesn't have a problem with you feeding on him when you're in a bind or need a little snack here and there
𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚊:
"Oh, for real?"
she doesn't even bat an eye
yeah she believes you since she knows you'd never lie to her even though it is really outlandish
i mean, she says crazy shit all the time and you believe her so who is she to judge? that and she already knew
yeah even though she's kinda airheaded sometimes doesn't mean she's stupid. you're not very good at hiding your vampirism babe (her words exactly)
i mean she already had a vibe from the beginning anyway. you have that aura about you, you know??
she doesn't have a problem with it though. if anything she's actually really excited about it!!
if you've been alive for a long time she'd love to hear about all the things you might've seen and experienced and asks a lot of questions about it since she's only ever watched movies about it
if you have a darker style she makes an effort to match it so you don't feel as alienated considering she would think that you'd already feel kind of set apart from others because of your vampirism and wants to make sure you feel included
if your style is lighter or somewhere in the middle then that's usually where she falls, so it won't be out of the ordinary (she already makes you wear matching outfits with her so its not much of a difference LOL)
she's cool with it though!! i think she'd be WAY too enthusiastic about letting you feed on her since she's curious about it but would get grossed out by the sight of her own blood LMAO
[ 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐! 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 :) ]
#rose anon#final fantasy vii#final fantasy#final fantasy headcanon#final fantasy imagines#reno headcanon#reno imagine#tseng headcanon#tseng imagine#elena headcanon#elena imagine#ffvii reno#ffvii tseng#ffvii elena#ffvii headcanon#ffvii imagine
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I should probably watch Exeunt again, though last time it short-circuited several important brain processes I need to function but ANYWAYS- if I ever had to make a real criticism of Endeavour it would be that Mr. Lewis got a little too close to his characters, I think. It could always be executive meddling at work, but as the show went on it seemed as though everyone got a little squeamish about characters doing anything genuinely bad or potentially unforgivable-- it was pretty egregious that they let Thursday be right in the end after all the shit he pulled in season 7 (a clear and obvious abuse of his power), or that Bright was always 100% on their side after Neverland, or that Strange was able to perfectly play both dutiful Mason and member of the team, etc.
and I get it, I really do, there's only 90 minutes to get all the character stuff worked in around a complicated three-act murder mystery, its insane that the show was/is so good for so long as the work of one mind, buuuut I think he wobbles on the landing with the biker murder. Yes Fred killed a guy, but he comes out of it looking pretty good, all things considered: Sam was unable to defend himself, a verbal threat was made against both of them (doesn't he straight up say "I'll kill you both" while holding a knife?), Fred already tried to de-escalate the situation-- philosophically speaking we could argue about if its ever permissible to take a human life, but legally he's in the clear.
Of course, Morse doesn't know all that-- we actually saw it, but he had to put together the pieces on his own-- and maybe that adds to the tragedy of it all, Morse making it much worse in his head and Thursday not bothering to explain because he did what he had to do, and that's that-- I suppose that works for me. But then, it makes Morse's teary-eyed "he was someone's son" moment fall a little flat, which is a shame. It's both great for Morse the character to feel that deeply, and a think something important to get across in the crime-wave hang-them-all moment we're in right now. Big Pete didn't deserve to die that way, he was monstrously failed by everyone, especially the police (the very police they work for!!) but it all gets a little muddled and I think Mr. Lewis drops the ball.
It would work better for me if:
Sam started the fight/ been the aggressor (rather than passively dealing), or perhaps had some beef with the gang from his time in prison-- something to make him more culpable, other than the insensible would-be victim of a cold blooded assassination
The knife had been dropped/everyone was disarmed and surrendering
The impetus for killing was a less clear and direct threat-- "we'll be back, and we'll get you/your family/your little dog too"
That way there's both an understandable impetus for committing murder, but it still is murder, as opposed to self-defense. You could even work in the fact that Thursday is honestly pretty old at this point-- ex-army or no, I don't think he's going to win a hand-to-hand fight with a man 20ish years his junior, especially not if he has backup in the bar just a shout away. It also makes it a clear example of playing favorites-- his son just tried to pull the very same shit (turf war murder) but Fred put his finger on the scale because he's family, something he is very much not supposed to do. Its a culmination of all the really heinous acts of brutality he's done over the course of the seasons, which they've wriggled out of addressing because the targets were 'justified' (HEAVY scare quotes)-- if the very last act was the ultimate crime, one that couldn't be brushed off with the idea that the victim will walk if off, I think it would really land. It would make that final separation/disillusionment agonizing, because Morse would have to own up to all the times he looked the other way and let Thursday do things he knew perfectly well were unacceptable-- in some ways he's culpable in this final murder as well, not just in covering it up. The people who were supposed to be getting justice for this boy did him the final injustice, etc. The themes are so rich!! Just a liiiiiitle tweak...
(I'm also not sure if I believe an non-local gang of bikers in the '70s has the capability to solve a murder and then track down the perpetrators (they couldn't find a good time to assassinate Lott without Morse's tipoff) or hold a decades long blood-feud with an unknown party, but I that's a different issue, I can wave it off)
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The long road taken is the one worth travelling or something like that. At least, that’s what his therapist had told him at the rehab clinic. And at that time sat in his office, hurtling through withdrawals complete with vomiting, dizziness, diarrhoea, sweats, the whole freaking shebang that culminated in him thinking the most dreadful thought, that he’d consider selling one of his kids for a hit of anything. He thought that saying was stupid. Although to be fair, he thought everything the dude told him at first was utter horseshit, About how his addiction wasn’t his fault, that he was too hard on himself about almost every aspect of his life, and how it seemed like Eddie hated himself, which Eddie didn’t disagree with that part. But when he was asked why he hated himself, Eddie only gave surface answers for the longest time about how he was annoying and a coward, things which he knew weren’t entirely true. The breakthrough only began to occur when Eddie admitted he learned from a young age that his parents hated his existence, meaning from then on, he assumed everyone else did too, which then turned into hating himself too, and then ending up in the cycle of abusing his body with drugs, alcohol, unsafe sex as a way to further his own self-hatred. Cool.
There were many things he wanted to speak to Steve about when he finally returned to his family full-time after nearly four months, but Eddie knew the nuggets would come first, that they had to. And the new place was nice. Steve did an excellent job with it, as he always did when it came to decorating their various living spaces. And Eddie had barely been through the door fives minutes before Sam, Rian, and little Joan were giving him the grand tour with their loud voices and excited smiles, all for him. Right then, he realised that the long road was worth travelling, and he silently hated the psych for being right. Guilt instantly plagued him that he’d ever considered drugs and boozing more important than his mini monkeys. But he just had to keep telling himself that it wasn’t his fault, none of it, despite how exhausting that quickly became. Home was more complex than the clinic, but worth it to be with the people he loved again.
By the third day of his being home, the kids still refused to leave his side for longer than necessary. They wanted to do everything with him, each of them being particularly clingy, even Sammy, who enjoyed asserting his independence nowadays whenever he could. That was how Eddie found himself sitting on the living room floor painting at ten in the morning. Joan sat between his legs so she could show him the wizard (that’s what he thought it was anyway); she was painting every few minutes in varying shades of green to get his opinion. Rian was close to his left side, creating a visual timeline of the caterpillars from their bug garden turning into butterflies, something that had happened in his absence. And Eddie found himself pretty impressed with the artistry, making a mental note that his kid possessed potential in that area. As for Sam, the blessed little brat, the mini Steve Harrington. He decided on re-creating the hilarious moment of Steve having to pack up and relocate the bug farm to their new house. The ants covering paint Steve were giant in proportion to him, and Eddie couldn’t stop himself from giggling, much to Sam’s pride. “Was he that squeamish about it?” He asked his son, his fingers gently carding through Joan’s hair to get out some morning tangles.
Sam stuck his hand out and jostled it about to signify a sort of response. “It was the ants more than anything else that got to him...lit...literally.” The kid nodded to himself proudly, saying the big word in the correct context. “He screamed like when Joany gets vanilla ice cream instead of chocolate.”
“He did not! I do not!” Joan chirped in, shaking her paintbrush at her older brother until Eddie gently reeled her in. He suspected his daughter was more offended by the accusation against her than for poor Steve, but he smiled anyway, reminding himself to thank Steve later for going through that without his assistance.
“No fighting, guys. “ Fortunately, they settled without much fuss, much to Eddie’s relief. But he still wasn’t at one hundred percent and didn’t feel confident about his chances with arguing kids. Fatigue continued to eat at him, and the old bat scars were playing up more than usual without the numbing agents provided by intoxicants. He needed to get back in contact with his doctor about what to do about that. Could he even take painkillers anymore? And just like that, his head began to hurt. Ah, the joys of post-addiction life.
Rian peered up at him with his soft Harrington-esque eyes and said he wanted to show his panting to dad (aka Steve). If Eddie could scarcely resist Steve’s eyes, he had absolutely no power over himself regarding their kid's same expressions. “You can do that, bud. He’ll be up soon to make breakfast. We said we’d have a late breakfast, right? And there’s no way dad is gonna let us near that fancy kitchen. So that’s how I know he’s gonna appear real soon, okay?” Rian nodded, accepting the sound logic that he knew to be correct when it concerned his dad. Sam laughed, earning two suspicious looks from his siblings. That’s when he decided to burst into the tale of when he and dad (Eddie) attempted to cook breakfast for dad (Steve) one morning on his birthday before his brother and sister even existed. They almost burnt the entire kitchen down in the process and haven’t been allowed in the kitchen unsupervised since. The story got a round of giggles from all three Harrington babies and one fond smile from their dad, his sudden headache temporarily forgotten.
@harringtontm
#harringtontm#v. volume 6 / arc: los angeles feat. harringtontm.#ship. whenever i’m alone with you; you make me feel like i am whole again ( harringtontm ) 💙#drugs mention tw#r u r ready?? i'm not#the kids are italicised <3
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A hobby your OCs have?
Anzhelia has a lot of hobbies, the funniest thing is that her hobbies would be chores to someone else. Cooking, cleaning, sewing, folding, the kind of things that keep her busy are what make her happiest. However! The only hobby she has that couldn’t be considered “productive” would be reading- she loves to read! Anzhelia had many books back at home and is now trying to build her collection back up after the big shake-up in her life. Reading is something she only does once every chore has been completed, so it’s very much her “relaxing” hobby as opposed to the more active ones. She loves tales of romance and adventure, but also really likes reading informational books like encyclopedias and the history of real-life places.
Bellinor also has lots of hobbies, but rarely has the time to spend on them because of her super important job as a Seat of Hell. When she has time though, she really enjoys being a self-proclaimed alchemist and potions expert. Despite being someone of great physical strength and incredible shapeshifting abilities, Bellinor has supplemented these things in her life by making things out of herbs and plants that she grows in the greenhouse of her estate. In the past, Bellinor used to live in the woods before coming to Hell and acquiring power and position, which is truly what started the hobby to begin with- survival in unforgiving conditions. Ripped from her “trivia & notes” page on Toyhouse: “Bellinor's main focus is potions and tinctures, but she will sometimes make posions, poultices, salves and even teas if the need arises.”
Coprini’s favorite hobby is- eating! She LOVES to eat. If Coprini were in a modern world and learned what a mukbang was she’d literally become one of those influencers. People would love her. “How does this creepy little tielfing not explode?” They can’t look away, it’s like a car crash. I like to think it’s because of her high metabolism (my dad is the same way, he can eat a whole feast and only gain 1 pound out of it) but I look forward to there maybe being a creepier lore reason she can just eat, and eat, and eat. Who knows! 8)
Orona can do SO much, she’s becoming one of my most powerful OCs who is capable of many incredible things. It’s hard to parse through what’s hobby and genuine interest and what she does out of necessity and has simply learned to love. I think though, at her core, Orona will always consider butchery her favorite hobby. Orona being good at cutting up meat and monster parts was a HUGE happy accident- for starters, I’m squeamish as all hell and can barely stand blood and gore. Secondly, I was brand new to DnD and had no idea that a high medicine skill meant I was the best option for monster harvesting! So with those two things becoming obvious as I played her, I decided to make it so that Orona would constantly be approached on her home island to help cut up meat and food and monster parts that her hunting mothers and sisters would bring back. This later translates into her (with our barbarian’s assistance) being the best option for her adventuring party to harvest rare and expensive things from the many monsters they face. Basically, this gal will have a big ol’ sharp and bright grin on her face, while uh… being covered in blood and viscera.
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I wanted to try writing, and I was wondering if anyone could tell me if this is any good. There's a little description of gore in the beginning, so if you're really squeamish, watch out? I don't know if it makes any sense, and this is my first time writing like in a story setting, so...
As soon as he stepped across the threshold, he caught a whiff of something. It was pungent, definitely rotting and in spite of himself he wrinkles his nose in disgust. Adonis Vasileiou thought that after all these years he'd be used to the smell of rot, especially in his profession.
The body lies still on the floor in front of him, horribly mangled. It had been there for at least a couple days by the looks of it. Adonis sighs and strides up to it in a few quick steps, stooping low to inspect the bloody face of the former assassin.
He'd been sent to kill the man, Richard Starden, but it looks like someone else had already done it. Less work for him he supposes, standing back to his full height. Adonis considers the corpse once more and walks straight back out of the room.
The walk back to his apartment is dark with the moon casting a haunting glow after the city. Thick fog shrouds everything in mystery, leaving him a little more on edge than usual. You never know what sort of scum will try and slip up on you in the night, especially with the sort of reputation Adonis has made himself.
Most people fear him, as they should, being the most famous killer in Slaton, but a few want to take him down a peg. Prove themselves as more brutal or cunning then the Wraith himself. For his size most would expect him to be slow or clunky, but he is no such thing. He's quick, and silent as death, both of which earned him his name.
Adonis pauses in front of his apartment door when he hears shuffling inside. He slips his dagger out of the sheath and quietly steps in. He’s greeted by a knife to the throat. “Deianira” he greets slowly, frowning at the woman in front of him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Where were you?” She demands, anger alighting her usually stoic features.
“Out.” He replies simply, unwilling to offer further clarification. “Will you remove the dagger from my throat or are we going to have the rest of the conversation like this?”
She narrows her eyes at him and begrudgingly steps away.
“Why are you in my apartment?” he asks, straight to the point.
“You still owe me money,” she points her knife at him, a scowl still firmly affixed to her face.
“Do I?” he hums brushing past her into the apartment. He hangs his coat and toes off his shoes, fully intent on going straight to bed after the day he had. “I must've forgotten”
That was surely the wrong thing to say when her scowl only deepens. “Forgotten,” she scoffs, following him into the apartment. “Oh please Adonis, you don't forget about things like that.”
He grunts in reply and occupies himself with taking off all of the hidden knives he carries. Gods his shoulders hurt, when was the last time he had bothered to stretch properly? “Can we talk in the morning?” he sighs, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing his scarred back to her.
“You're an ass,”
“I know,” by the time he glances back to look at her again she's gone.
The next morning comes far too soon for Adonis’ taste and with it comes Deianira. He slips out of bed popping his sore joints as he walks into the kitchen. He still hasn't recovered from his time spent in the pits. An illegal fighting ring in the city's underworld or as Adonis would put it, an easy way to make money.
He runs his hand through messy black hair, now that he thinks about it he should get it cut. It's a little too long for comfort, falling over the tops of his ears in a way he doesn't like. On the topic of hair he should shave too, the stubble covering his jaw scratches when he wears his mask, far too annoying to ignore for long.
Deianira is sitting on one of the high chairs next to the kitchen island, tapping her short nails impatiently on the counter top. “You look like shit,” she states bluntly.
“Good morning to you too” he sighs, his voice still rough from sleep. He ambles into the kitchen, putting on the kettle and settling into the routine of making breakfast. “Breakfast?” He offers, keeping his eyes fixed on the bread he's slicing.
She ignores my question “Where's my money, Adonis?” She asks harshly.
It's a shame she's so abrasive he thinks they would have gotten along if she wasn't. “I'll stop by the vaults today” he replies “You can come if you like.” He can feel her eyes burning holes in his back. He wonders briefly why she must always be so angry.
“Fine,” she snaps and he shakes his head, mildly amused by her bitterness. He finishes his breakfast in silence before going back to his room to get dressed.
He secures his knives and then puts on a crisp white button-up and some black slacks, taking care to look like every other wealthy man in the financial district. He ignores Deianira as he pulls on his coat and leaves his apartment, locking the door after her.
It's definitely not done, but I just want to know if it's like ok
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11, 13, and 18 for ebony, blazing and hollow :3
11. In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?
ebonystar: when her mother died. she was hit with the fear of living in a world without her and having the lead the clan
blazingheart: when he almost drowned as a kit. finding out he got auburnshine pregnant was a close second
hollowlight: tfw your husband killed someone and stalks towards you covered in blood with evil intent
13. Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?
ebonystar: shes not squeamish persay, but shes also not super comfortable with it. she doesnt like putting herself or loved ones in danger and doesnt like getting her paws dirty unless she has to
blazingheart: i would say no, just because hes a doctor and is kind of used to dealing with it. hes honestly very used to dealing with it so it doesnt bother him at all
hollowlight: yes. unfortunately they deal with it near constantly. the smell makes them nauseous and faint but they just have to deal with it and try to wash off in a stream as soon as possible.
Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?
ebonystar: tough... maybe a bit of both, with wisdom being a bit stronger. she considered her mom very wise after all. she probably admires ambition but like, not too much, in case it threatens her
blazingheart: i think he thinks being wise is cool, because he is not, but i think he greatly admires people who want something and will go for it. obviously not to like, evil lengths but like. you work hard to reach your goals? he can respect that
hollowlight: probably wisdom, because ambition scares them. theyve seen what it does to a cat
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