#best sharpening ive ever done i think
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TAYLOR SWIFT
performing 'Iris' at the Speak Now World Tour with Johnny Rzeznik of the Goo Goo Dolls
#my edit#tswiftedit#userpenny#userelena#userlizkhalifa#userjl#usersar#userleanne#tsedit#tsusermeggie#tsusermels#tsuserbella#thingschanged#tuserhaz#tsuserjen#tuseror#tsuservee#best sharpening ive ever done i think#anyway i wanted to gif this bc this is a great cover and a great song but idt many people know about this specific cover
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in the far corner of the forest IV
Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader
Word Count: 6,540
Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.
Warnings: mentions of hand injury, idiots in love, feels, jealousy, racism against orcs, angry behaviour, shouting, fight gets slightly physical, bruised arm, crying, angst (i'm sorry). I think that's all.
A/N: good news result in long chapters. thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone who has wished me good luck with my interview, you guys are angels. please enjoyxx💜💜
~
“You’re in love.”
“I’m what now!?” Bucky chuckled dismissively as he dropped his axe.
Bucky had spent half a day at home, refraining from going to work because of his hand’s condition, but as much as he loved staying home with her, he knew he wasn’t made to take a break.
So he thought he would visit, talk to Sam for a bit and maybe get some pent up ‘feelings’ out on some tree logs. His metal arm was still working just fine after all.
“I said, you’re in love with your human wife,” Sam repeated, smiling so warmly that Bucky wanted to smack him.
“I got her a few weeks ago.” Bucky shook his head in denial of the mere idea of him falling for anyone, let alone a human.
He did love Sam and Sarah, but that was it. They were the only humans he could tolerate. He hated the rest of them. Hell, he hated the human half of himself.
Bucky was just trying to make life easier for himself, that was all. He has been through enough conflicts and he didn’t need this in his marriage too. He deserved to live a normal life like everybody else.
Yes, he was courting her, and maybe he did constantly crave the feel of her body against his ever since she let him hug her the night of the injury, and he was definitely getting hopeful now that she hadn’t tried to run for a whole half day, but that didn’t mean he was in love! Did it?
“And now you’re in love with her.” Sam smirked, knowing how much it drove Bucky crazy that a female human had him on his knees for her love.
“Quit saying that!” Bucky stood up, ready to walk away from his annoying friend.
“Why does it make you so angry that you’re in lo—”
“Don’t,” Bucky warned him, eyes angry and glaring.
“—ve?”
“I am not in love with her, okay! She’s human! Plus, that girl drives me crazy! Do you know how many times I had to bring her back after she’d tried to run in the first two weeks? Five fucking times! That’s almost once every two days, Sam. And she only had one foot working!” Bucky ranted heatedly, desperate to negate his best friend’s theory.
Was he in love with her? And if Sam could see it, did that mean she could too?
“Well, why do you care to bring her back? Why not just let her run?” Sam shrugged, internally dying for Bucky to acknowledge his feelings.
“She could die out there! Humans are weak.”
“So?” Sam probed, intentionally ignoring Bucky’s remark about humans’ strength.
“So— so I signed all those things when she was offered to me. She can’t— I can’t—”
“You can’t?”
“I can’t let her get hurt,” Bucky admitted lowly, sitting down on a log with a loud sigh.
“Why does that make you so upset?” Sam dug deeper.
“Because I think you’re right. I think I might be in love with her.” Bucky rubbed his eye with his good hand, pushing his hair back angrily.
“And?”
“And she thinks I’m the devil.” Bucky’s face fell to his palms.
“Did she ever say that to you out loud?” Sam asked, touching the end of his sharpened blade.
“She doesn’t need to, Sam. I see it in her eyes every time I find her after she’d tried to run away.” Bucky’s voice was broken like his friend has never heard before.
“I thought you said everything was better after your injury?”
“Yeah, but that’s not gonna last forever.” Bucky gave a sad grin, “she’s soon gonna go back to seeing me the same as before.”
“Well, it’s up to you to change her mind, Buck.” Sam patted his friend’s shoulder, giving a squeeze.
Bucky sighed once more before getting up.
Sam was a human. A very handsome one with much less scars and non-icy skin. He would never understand. It would never work. She hated him.
He could continue trying, but it wouldn’t change anything of the way she felt about him and their marriage. She had told him time and time again how she felt about both.
“Going home already?”
“Yeah, I can’t miss the running away bit. It’s my favourite,” he sighed, Sam's laugh trailing behind him.
“Smile at her for a change.”
“Shut up.” I do smile at her. I only ever smile at her.
“Sarah loved the jam by the way!” Sam yelled.
“I’ll let her know!” Bucky yelled back before exhaling sadly.
Sam would never understand. Her taking pity on him those past couple of hours was nothing more than sympathy and likely even guilt.
Sam would never understand that of all the eyes in the world, it seems like Bucky has managed to fall for the only ones that knew how to hurt him, the eyes that would only look at him as a disgusting, frightening monster.
~
When Bucky got home, everything was creepily in place. His door was closed like he had left it and he actually had to use his key to open it for the first time in a while.
Stepping inside, the warm smell of roast chicken welcomed him back.
The house was warm because all the windows were actually shut, too. It was all so calm and homely; the orc was seriously worried.
And then he heard it: his human wife’s sweet voice, humming the melody of a song unfamiliar to him. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.
Bucky carefully shut the door behind him, not wanting her peaceful mood to end so soon as he tried to take lighter steps to where she was.
Much to his dismay though, she needed something from the other side of the kitchen and when she turned around she saw Bucky and gasped, jumping embarrassingly high.
“You scared me!” She whined, holding a hand to her heart.
“Sorry.” Bucky smirked, entertained by how cute she looked when startled.
“Welcome home,” she mumbled with a bit-back grin, holding onto his forearms before getting on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.
She never told him, but she was unbelievably thankful when he didn’t specify which type of kiss he expected weeks ago, and even more thankful when he didn’t object to her pecking his cheek before burying herself under the covers.
Life with Bucky has gotten undeniably familiar lately and leaving him was all of a sudden an idea that didn’t interest her as much as before.
Everything he was saying and doing has brought her closer to him without her even comprehending it.
As the days passed, she had realized running away was too exhausting, too risky, and for what? It wasn’t like she had a home to run to or a treasure buried somewhere or a lover worth escaping her orc for.
Her orc.
Hers.
A word she never felt the meaning of until the day Bucky made her his wife.
Bucky was the first and only one to present to her a taste of something she has never had: the feeling of exclusively owning things.
The smile that graced her face when she brushed her hair the first time with the brush Bucky got her was new and unprecedented.
Her brush, he called it.
Her shoes. Her chair. Her towel. Her clothes. Her books. Her side of the bed. Her cottage. Her kitchen.
And her husband.
Everything was brand new and completely hers.
Nothing was handed down to her, nothing was used before the minute her fingers had touched it. None of the things Bucky gifted her had previous owners, including him and his heart.
Most importantly, she didn’t have to share any of it with anybody.
“You’re home,” Bucky said, a surprised yet very happy smile lighting up his handsome features.
“I thought the wife was supposed to say that,” she replied playfully, going back to the bubbling pot.
Bucky raised his eyebrows at the good mood she seemed to be in. He was liking this.
He watched her sprinkle some black pepper into the soup as he came behind her.
She could feel the heat of his body surrounding her even when they weren’t touching and it had her heartbeat going crazy.
“Thank you, little human,” Bucky whispered, before he leaned down and pecked her cheek as well, his stubble and blunt tusks tickling her jaw.
She felt her whole body jolt with electricity at the simple graze of his lips and tusks on her skin as she closed her eyes.
Bucky left the kitchen and went to the bathroom but she was still hot as if his warmth never left her.
And when she opened her eyes and absentmindedly reached her fingertips to touch her cheek, she found herself smiling too.
What was happening to her? What was this foreign feeling lifting her off of her feet in the middle of the kitchen?
“Sam’s sister loved your strawberry jam by the way!” Bucky shouted to her from the bathroom, making her jump again before smiling to herself.
He didn’t use Sarah’s name on purpose, not wanting to ruin her happy mood as he had noticed how angry she got every time he would say it.
“I’ll make her more tomorrow!” She replied with a grin, proud of her hand’s work, her jealousy long forgotten after Bucky’s words of the night before.
After all, how could she be jealous when she was the one that Bucky was looking at like that?
~
When she finished setting up the table and Bucky didn’t come out of the bathroom, she got a little worried.
He never took too long during his showers, and now that he only had one arm to use, she thought he would cut his showers even shorter.
What if his wound was bleeding again and he didn’t want to tell her and was trying to fix it by himself inside the bathroom? She knew she should have stopped him from going to the yard!
“Bucky.” She knocked on the door softly, wanting to make sure he was okay.
“Yes, little human?” Bucky instantly opened the door for her.
And he looked like a dream.
Steam has surrounded him inside the bathroom, water drops from his still-wet hair dripping down his muscular, bare chest and for the first time since Bucky has been naked around her, she found herself looking at him. Actually looking.
Bucky’s chest was so broad, beefy and ribbed down to his abdomen. Scars of all sizes and shapes littered the beautiful, icy greyish skin, a reminder of the battles he had fought and all the sacrifices he had made.
Her heart clenched at the sight, a pang of sympathy coursing through her as she could only imagine the pain he must have had to endure.
Still, she found her hands tingling in curiosity, desperate to know what tracing the healed skin would feel like under her fingertips.
Bucky was a sight for sore eyes, a sight that both captivated and unnerved her, stirring a flurry of unfamiliar emotions in her chest that she struggled to contain.
She averted her gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.
“Are—” she chocked, her voice barely above a whisper as she coughed it out, “are you okay? You took a while.”
“Yeah, I’m just having a hard time drying up my hair with one arm,” Bucky reassured her, chuckling lightly at his dilemma as he let the towel around his neck drop.
He was completely oblivious to the way he just made her face burn up as her thoughts spiraled out of control.
“Come.” She took Bucky’s hand in hers, careful not to squeeze his palm, and led him outside to their bed.
It took Bucky a second to move his feet, but when he did, he felt like he was being carried on top of a cloud.
She felt herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain, her heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness, curiosity and… desire. A new sensation was tingling all over her body, specifically in places she didn’t need to be tingling right now.
Positioning herself between his parted legs, she reached to take the towel from around Bucky’s neck.
His eyes watched her, surprise flickering in them as he realized what she was going to do, unable to believe what was happening.
Sensing her nervousness, Bucky offered her a reassuring, grateful smile, silently encouraging her to continue.
And as she began to carefully pat his damp hair dry, her touch tentative and her eyes focused, he felt warmth welling up inside him.
She couldn’t help but steal glances at his bare shoulder and chest, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the engrossing sight. It was a feeling unlike anything she has ever experienced before, her heart racing with unparalleled excitement.
The awkwardness of the situation began to fade bit by bit as she focused more on the task at hand, in its place growing an overwhelming sense of closeness and familiarity.
Bucky’s hair was so soft under her fingertips as she took the towel up and down the brown locks. She wished she had given herself a chance to touch it more before.
As she finished drying her orc’s hair, she met his gaze with a shy bite of her lip, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence.
Bucky reached out to take her hands, his smile appreciative as his lips pressed a deep kiss on each palm, silently thanking her for her kindness and care.
~
“I didn’t know your cooking was so good. You surprise me every day,” Bucky praised, as she filled his mouth with more lentil soup, trying not to think of his conversation with Sam or the way his body was still on fire from the mere act of her drying his hair for him.
He couldn’t even believe she was feeding him after seeing him struggle to keep the food on his spoon using his left hand.
“All the girls at the orphanage know how to cook. They teach us all sorts of things and make us to be good housewives,” she replied, suddenly nostalgic of her days at the orphanage, curious to know how, where and when Bucky got the chance to see her back then.
Bucky didn’t say anything, busying his mouth with chewing some bread as his smile shrank.
She didn’t look happy. Why did she stay then? Was she planning on running away at night that day? Maybe she put something in the food?
“I’m glad you like your dinner though,” she said, breaking the thick silence with a soft smile as she fed the orc a piece of chicken.
“Why didn’t you try to leave today?” Bucky couldn’t hold back.
She was taken aback by his question. She thought he wanted her here.
Was he finally done? Did he want her out? Was he not going to look for her this time? Has Bucky given up on her? Was he going to leave her be had she gotten out today?
Most importantly, she didn’t know how to answer because it seemed like she was done running away from her new life with him, and she didn’t know if she could admit that.
“I– did you want me to?” She asked, her voice strained as she tried to hold in the tears.
“No! No, of course not!” He assured her quickly.
“Then?” She chewed on her lip.
“I don’t want you to stop running if it makes you feel alive,” Bucky told her, his blue eyes gushing with love he didn’t intend to show, “I’m willing to go to the ends of the earth to find you.”
“What?” She wasn’t expecting this at all, all the tingles she had hardly managed to shake off after drying Bucky’s wet hair coming back to attack her.
How were these words coming out of an orc! And why did they make her heart stutter in its beats?
“I love your fiery spirit and I’m afraid I’m killing it by keeping you here against your wishes. I never want to be the one to snuff your fire out.” Bucky admitted, eyes sincere as he watched her.
She just stared at him for a moment, stunned as her heart skipped yet another beat.
If he only knew that he was the one who had managed to bring this fiery personality to life.
Bucky respected her silence and went back to enjoying his dinner, not wanting to push her for a reply. She could take her time.
She kept staring at him in confusion for another minute before taking her almost untouched plate and getting up.
She almost ran to the kitchen with her hand on her heart.
What was going on with her? Her heart wasn’t seriously beating this loud for the orc. Could it be?
He sounded so selfless and spoke so gently like he has never before and she was overwhelmed.
His words were doing things to her that she has never felt before. What was wrong with her?
She knew she had caught herself staring at him without a shirt just minutes ago, maybe admiring his eyelashes as he slept in some early mornings, but she rendered it curiosity and nothing more.
She shook her head, her thoughts startling to her as she emptied her plate in the garbage and started washing it vigorously.
Bucky no longer had an appetite, sighing at her reaction.
He told himself he could understand, but it was still hurtful the way she jumped out of her chair.
He left his plate on the table, not wanting to invade her privacy by going to the kitchen before leaving the cottage altogether.
He probably shouldn’t have said anything.
~
She revisited the subject the same afternoon though, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings between her and Bucky. Not any longer.
“I don’t wanna leave anymore,” she admitted timidly, making Bucky’s smile betray him and his usual frowning.
“But I don’t like being locked away in here all day either,” she said carefully, scared to upset him.
“Where do you wanna go? The forest is dangerous, little human.” Bucky was back to frowning at the thought of anything bad happening to her again.
It was torture for him when her foot was still healing and he was the most relieved when it finally did. He couldn’t just let her roam around when she didn’t know the area.
“Take me out when you come back from work maybe? Or even on your day off,” she suggested, desperate to see the world.
“And go where?”
“Anywhere. We can walk around the woods before it gets dark, you could show me your shop, I could meet Sam? Or we could even go to the market!” She suggested eagerly.
She has been locked up for so long and she didn’t want to continue her life like this.
Bucky actually thought about it and he didn’t hate the idea. Taking her out with him would ensure her safety. He would be by her side and he would protect her. He also liked the thought of taking her out and properly courting her even if she didn’t know that that was what he was doing.
He said he didn’t want to kill her spirit by keeping her in here and she gave him the solution.
“Okay.” Bucky nodded at her with a smile.
“Okay?” She exclaimed happily, not believing Bucky would actually take her out to see around.
“Okay.” He nodded again reassuringly, her happiness making him laugh.
“Well, don’t you have tomorrow off?” She asked suggestively, gesturing to his hand.
Bucky laughed, nodding, “put your shoes on.”
“Thank you, Bucky.” She involuntarily gave his healing hand a squeeze, kissing his cheek before running to get her shoes.
Bucky swallowed hard, hoping he would be able to hold himself together and not completely melt under her sweet company.
“You’ve got to promise me though,” he said.
She looked at him questioningly as she slipped one foot into a shoe.
“No running away, little human.”
“No running away. Promise.” She promised, shaking her head with a shy smile.
Bucky smiled big, taking her smaller hand in his as she grabbed her basket in the other, ready to browse the market with her husband.
Her husband. That was starting to sound unquestionably comforting.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
“What?” She tilted her head with a grin.
“You owe me a kiss,” Bucky said, his tone serious.
“No, I don’t! If anything, I just gave you an extra kiss!”
“Yes, you do. From that morning. You’re still one kiss behind!”
“I just made up for it!”
“Doesn’t count. That one covers the night before.” Bucky shrugged, a smile etched on his lips.
“Okay, fine.” She kissed Bucky’s cheek, “stop going around saying other girls’ names though.”
Bucky laughed, “I only know one!”
“Still too many,” she whispered under her breath, but Bucky heard it, smiling from ear to ear as he took his hand in hers, taking the right path out of the woods.
~
It was a beautiful afternoon, full of warm sunshine and fruitful deals. She has got some pretty good stuff for really good prices.
She couldn’t believe Bucky actually gave her pocket money.
He didn’t want her to have to ask him for money every time something caught her eye. He wanted her independent, fulfilled and brave as she bought herself whatever her heart desired.
Her heart was so full and her smile was inerasable.
Bucky didn’t let go of her hand all day and she actually liked it so much that she never complained. The feel of his calloused skin against her soft palm wasn’t like anything she has felt before.
She didn’t want to let go of his hand even while looking at the different stands and booths at the market.
But she eventually liked the flower stand too much and told Bucky she would take a look at them while he continued buying them the fruits he was picking.
“Good afteroon,” a smooth voice interrupted her admiration of the potted plants before her, making her look up for a second.
“Good afternoon.” She smiled coyly.
“Any favorites?” The handsome man inside the booth asked her.
“All of them,” she giggled softly, the sound catching Bucky’s ears at once.
The man laughed back, “okay, I think I have something special for you. How about this one?” He brought her a purple flower from the batch hidden behind him inside the booth.
“Oh, how beautiful! What is this one?” She wondered, amazement sparkling in her eyes at the sight of the pretty petals.
“That is a Globemaster Allium. Pretty, isn’t she?” He asked, staring at her desirously as she looked at the flower.
“Yes, she’s stunning!”
“I’m Cole by the way—”
She heard Bucky clear his throat next to her and looked up at once, the innocent awe in her eyes softening the orc a little.
“Look, Bucky! Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” She pointed to the flower pot excitedly.
Bucky leaned in, his frown scaring her a little, her breath hitching when his lips tickled the shell of her ear, “no, little human, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
She chocked on her own saliva, hiding her hot face with her hand as she coughed, “Bucky!” She whined with a shy smile.
Where did that come from!
“Let’s go,” Bucky said with a nod of his head, eyes stern as he glared at Cole.
“Can—” She held his wrist, “can I have it?” She asked softly, gesturing to the flower pot.
Bucky wanted to say no. He didn’t want her to have this farmer’s flower. But he couldn’t say no to those hopeful, beautiful eyes of hers.
“Fine.” He watched her get the money out of her pocket and she smiled gratefully as she almost set them down on Cole’s counter.
“It’s on the house,” Cole said, still smiling dreamily at her.
She could all but swallow as she gave a polite smile back before looking up at Bucky for help.
“Take your goddamn money.” Bucky made a quick job of paying for the flower, taking the money from her and slamming it on the counter, making the whole booth shake.
He quickly took his wife home, deciding that was enough socialization for the both of them for the day.
She wasn’t going to lie, she was loving jealousy on her orc. It felt so intoxicating to have someone love her so much that he was jealous of other men talking to her.
She wouldn’t tell Bucky, but she would probably spend the nights of the next week smiling at the wall every time she remembered how he held her hand back home just a little bit tighter that day.
Her own heart was running wild at the sight of the orc now and she didn’t want it any other way.
~
“Now you know how it feels,” she teased with a smile as they were getting ready for bed.
Bucky couldn’t let it go, talking about how they were never going to stop by that farmer’s flower booth ever again.
“That’s not the same! I was never into Sarah! But that man was openly ogling you!” Bucky grumbled, his frown digging deep into the skin of his forehead.
“He was just being nice, trying to sell his flowers,” she laughed, upsetting Bucky even more.
How couldn’t she see it? The guy was all over her!
“He was flirting and you were all giggles and blushes.” Bucky copied her, going to the bed and burying himself under the covers, facing the wall.
He understood now why she had done that.
“Hey, that’s my spot!” She joked, not knowing if Bucky was being serious.
“Not tonight,” he murmured from underneath the covers.
“Bucky,” she whined, uncovering her orc’s face.
Bucky didn’t reply, pushing himself closer to the wall.
She tried to bring him on his back by the shoulder like he so easily did her a couple of night ago, but he was too strong for her and his body wouldn’t budge.
She huffed, “okay, you left me no choice.”
Bucky remained still, wanting to see what she meant by that as he felt her shift behind him.
Before he knew it, she was on top of his bicep, trying to slot herself between his body and the wall.
“What on earth—”
“You started it, Bucky!” She said, voice determined as she kept pushing, trying to squeeze herself in the small space accessible.
Bucky looked at her in amusement for a second before moving back, making her body drop as larger space became available.
She landed with the tiniest “ouff” on the mattress, facing Bucky on her side with her back to the wall, its coolness helping soothe the heat rising to the surface of her skin.
That was the closest she had been to Bucky since their hug the night of his injury, face to face as his passionate sapphire eyes watched hers.
“Hi,” she whispered, heart in her throat.
“Hi,” Bucky replied with a charming smile, smoothing some of her ruffled strands back in place.
She stared at the orc’s eyes, not the slightest bit scared of the fact that she was trapped against the wall by his huge body.
“You’re not the only one who wants to be loyal to this marriage, Bucky,” she said, surprising Bucky and herself, “I don’t want the farmer. I don’t want anyone else.” but you.
Bucky smiled in disbelief, taken aback by her words, and she took it as permission to move closer to his chest. He instinctively wrapped her up in a protective hug, wondering how he was able to hold himself back from kissing her.
She pushed her face into her orc’s chest, his scent and warmth engulfing her into a protective bubble.
She couldn’t believe she said the words she has just said and it made her bury her burning face deeper in Bucky’s arms.
He could only hug her tighter, his nose in her sweet-smelling hair as his smile grew bigger.
This moment right there was everything Bucky has ever wished for. He could die a happy orc right then and there.
~
It became a habit for them to go out to the village on Bucky’s day off. They were both having a great time, getting closer and falling harder.
Cole hasn’t spoken to her again after learning that the snow orc was actually her husband, and she respected Bucky’s feelings and never approached Cole’s booth no matter how pretty the plants on his stand were.
Market outings were their thing now and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.
She didn’t want anyone else’s attention but Bucky’s anyway. His hand has almost fully healed and she could now squeeze it all she wanted whenever she got excited about anything they encountered.
One thing did occur that annoyed her though and that was the way the jewelry lady would look at her every time she and Bucky would pass by. The woman had so much pity in her eyes when she saw her hand in an orc’s and she hated it.
She despised the way people misjudged her orc when he was far better than any human man she could’ve ever ended up with.
Yet, the lady kept giving her those pitiful looks, probably thinking Bucky had enslaved her or something.
But enough was enough.
When Bucky was busy looking at the knives, she made her way to the jewelry lady, determined to put an end to the ridiculousness.
“He is my husband,” she sternly told the lady in the jewelry stand, taking the chance that Bucky wasn’t listening.
“Oh.” The lady quickly gave a kind smile, turning from concerned about her to happy for her, “I apologize for misjudging you, dear. I was only worried about you. We’ve all heard stories about him.”
“Well, that’s all they are. Stories.” She ferociously defended, her eyes still stern.
“I’m sorry,” the woman sincerely expressed her regret, squeezing her hand.
She nodded with a small smile, accepting the older woman’s apology.
“I don’t see a ring on your hand.” The jewelry lady gestured to the collection of rings in her glass box with a wink.
“Oh.”
The sentence caught Bucky’s ears as he turned away to look at her embarrassed face.
“We didn’t get time to buy one. It all happened so quickly,” she explained awkwardly and Bucky’s expression fell.
“I have a pretty collection if you wanna take a look, and don’t worry about the price,” the older lady suggested kindly.
“No, it’s okay—”
“Choose what you like, sweet thing,” Bucky whispered to her, immediately by her side when he saw her eyes skimming over the jewelry, “I’m sorry I’m not familiar with the human marriage traditions. I should’ve gotten you one sooner.”
“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to,” she reassured with a tender smile.
She didn’t need a ring to know that she was Bucky’s.
“I want to. I want you to wear my ring, little human.” Bucky raised her hands to his lips, placing the softest kisses on her each finger.
Her heart surged as a shy smile spread on her lips, heat rising to her cheeks.
“Okay.” She nodded happily, feeling like she was in a dream and she never wanted to wake up.
Though very expensive, Bucky ended up buying her the ring she chose. It was the prettiest gold ring with a moss agate blue diamond.
She tried to talk him out of it, wanting to pick something cheaper, but Bucky wouldn’t have it.
She has never felt as special as she felt with Bucky’s ring on her finger. It was the prettiest thing from the most handsome orc.
And in that very moment, she was the happiest that she trusted her gut; that she gave Bucky, and herself a chance for this marriage to be something more than a contractual deal.
Bucky couldn’t believe she has finally let him make her his. When he slipped that ring on her tiny finger, he felt like he was king of the world.
While walking back to their cottage, a new dream got unlocked inside of her, one that included her and Bucky and their very own little stand in the market.
“Can we stop by the shop before we go home?” She asked tentatively.
“Sure, why? Did you forget something there yesterday?”
She has been to the shop a couple of times, curious to meet the important people in Bucky’s life and possibly have friends of her own, too.
“No, just wanna show Sarah the ring,” she said, a shy smile lighting up her happy face.
Bucky brought her hand to his lips, kissing her ring finger this time, “to the shop it is.”
~
Everything was going amazingly and she wished with all her heart that it would stay that way, but unfortunately, the very next day was a day for another fight that none of them saw coming.
Bucky still hasn’t recovered from her little stunt a few weeks ago and today he came back to find the cottage empty again.
He should have locked the door. He shouldn’t have trusted that a ring on her finger might stop her old habits or give her a magical change of heart.
What about all the small moments she had shared? Did those mean nothing to her?
Bucky’s anger and feeling of betrayal wiped away everything nice that had happened between the two of them, only remembering that she never wanted to be here in the very first place.
“Why are you so adamant about making me lose my mind?” Bucky asked, pushing her inside and slamming the door behind them.
“I’m not! Would you just listen?!” She yelled back, startled by the harsh treatment.
“What the hell were you thinking?!” Bucky shouted as if he didn’t hear her.
“I was just—”
“Wandering through the forest alone is dangerous, I’ve told you time and again, and yet you keep doing it!”
“Would you listen to me?!”
“No! You acted like you would stop running, so what changed?!” Bucky threw his big arms in the air, making her take a step back.
Bucky looked bigger than he usually did when he was livid like that.
“I wasn’t running!” She repeated, her voice tinged with anger of her own at the distrust.
“Stop lying!” Bucky growled, roughly grabbing her by the arm.
“I’m not lying,” she insisted as she tried not to wince at the way Bucky held her forearm, her jaw clenched defiantly.
“Then what were you doing up the hill, huh?” Bucky unconsciously squeezed her arm harder.
“You’re hurting me.” She tried to pull away, but Bucky wouldn’t release her.
“You think you’re the only one who has fucking feelings?” Bucky shook her in his hold, unintentionally bruising her further.
She cried out but it fell on deaf ears, “Bucky, let me go!”
“Do you think what you do doesn’t affect me just because I’m not a goddamn human?!” He forced her closer, making her tears fall as he barked in her face.
His words hung heavy in the air, echoing through the spacious room.
“Bucky, please,” she tried again, not wanting to fight anymore.
Bucky finally listened, suddenly shocked at his actions as he let her arm go.
It’s been so long since he had made her cry and he just ruined everything good he had worked on building with her.
She just stood there, whimpering in pain as she held her arm to her chest.
Bucky watched her roll the sleeve of her winter dress up to look at her arm and there they were: thick fingerprints on her flesh.
“I— I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to get closer to look at her arm, swallowing hard.
To his surprise, she let him.
“I’m sorry, little human.” Bucky wiped a few of her tears away, regret evident in his voice.
“I wasn’t running,” she repeated, pushing her hands in the pockets of her dress, “I was collecting berries to decorate the cake I made earlier.” She pulled handfuls of now ruined wild strawberries, raspberries and blackberries out of her pockets and dropped them on the wooden table for him to see.
She left Bucky alone to stare at the berries and went to the kitchen.
And boy did he stare.
He felt so stupid and ashamed at the way he had reacted. He just hurt her and she wasn’t even trying to leave. He wouldn’t let her explain either and had unjustly judged her.
She got out a cold water bottle from the fridge, pushing it to her bruised arm.
Bucky walked into the kitchen, shame branded on his face.
“Are you okay?” He asked, not knowing what to do to correct his mistake.
“What do you think?!” She irritably snapped at him, waving her bruised arm in the air.
“I just wanted to help!” Bucky barked back.
“Well, I don’t want your help!” She shouted.
“Fine! Don’t want it!” Bucky walked out, his feet stomping on the wooden floors.
He stormed out of the cottage, violently slamming the door behind him.
Bucky then realized what he has just done and how he had made the situation even worse. He kicked a rock so hard he was sure it flew to the other side of the forest as he saw birds flying disruptively.
“Damn it!” He yelled out loud, slamming his fist to the door, making her flinch inside the cottage.
The fight between the orc’s rough exterior and his rather tender feelings for her was torturing Bucky. What he meant to show was that he cared about her and was worried for her, but instead he’d done what he’d done.
She, on the other side of the wall, irately got out of the kitchen with the trash bin and swept the berries from the table, throwing them in the garbage.
When Bucky got inside again, she was cleaning the stain of the berries from the table, her features still twisted in a frown.
He opened his mouth, trying to think of anything he could say to fix this, but nothing came out. With a sigh, he left the cottage once more, leaving her all alone.
She sat down with a huff, throwing the cloth in her hand across the room.
She let her tears run in frustration.
It was supposed to be a peaceful night where they enjoyed a delightful desert that she has worked hard on making and was going to work hard on decorating.
She was trying to start a life with him. Why did he have to ruin it like that? She wasn’t running. How could she make him believe her?
She desperately wanted, needed Bucky to trust her.
She cried harder, feeling helpless in the face of her orc’s rage as her heart clenched at the thought of a happiness gone so soon.
Part V
~
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#orc!bucky barnes#orc!bucky#orc!bucky barnes x reader#orc!bucky x reader#bucky barnes x fluff#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x f!reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x female yn#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky fanfic#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes series#bucky series#purple writes
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Do you read fanfic? Any favorites of these 2 lovely messes?
YES!!!! i have so many personal favs for shartzel fics (im assuming thats what u meant and i am so sorry if not) BUT i will try to keep it to maybe like 5-10 favs bc my bookmarks folder for them has like 50+ fucking fics in there its a little insane.....
- Truesilver by mylordshesacactus: i think everyone in the shadowzel part of the fandom has read this one honestly but it like. rewired my brain entirely when i first read it. shadowzel raising a kid was something ive never thought abt before, but then i read this fic and all i could think about was them having a domestic married life..........
- though i burn, how could i fall? by Jazzfordshire: THIS FIC GAVE ME THE ABSOLUTE WORST (BEST) BRAINROT EVER... the way the author writes their gradual relationship and their characters in general just AUGH. it itched my brain in the best way possible i love it
- And I want to share it all with you. by Rosethornwolf: this fic is still in progress, but it makes me tear up so so so bad. i love soft shadowzel i love that shit so much and i love how the author writes them in general.... please give their other fics a read as well, theyre lovely
- Fast Times At Baldur's Gate by Calchexxis: if you want like pure shadowzel fluff, this is THE fic for u. this fucking fic had made me giggling and kicking my legs while reading it cause of how tooth-rotting the fluff is!!!!! sometimes all you need in life is baby high school sweethearts shadowzel...
- Truce by Looktotheedges: im sure everyone's read this one as well BUT FUCK ME I LOVE THIS FIC. the author does such a superb job at not only writing shadowzel but also their dynamic with the rest of the party members. i adoreee the found family moments so much and hold it so close to my heart...
- sharpens like an image / sharpens like a knife by yeahitshowed: this one is a littleeee angsty. ive waited so very long for a "what did orin do to lae'zel?" fic that also mentions shadowzel and then this author wrote it and i instantly was in shambles. like when i was done reading this fic, all i could think abt were the ways lae’zel would see orin in shadowheart from now on. how that fear she held would always linger Somewhere in the back of her mind and it destroyed me :'D (this will make sense when after reading the fic i promise)
- pressing a flower by Isolatedwriting: ending this with another also angsty one but like straight up hurt no comfort angst :) to quote the summary: "durge fails a saving throw" and i have never been the same since actually..................
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l,,link with a really clumsy male S/O who can barely walk straight,,,,pls,,,
Note: Good grief i am so sorry this has been chilling in my inbox for a YEAR oops,,, anyway im sorry its late and not the best quality but we tried and ive just done 4 hours straight of biology cramming soooo
Proofread: did shakespeare have time to proofread???? I think not 😌😌
Clumsy - Link x GN!Reader
You stared at your hands, which gripped the sword tightly - to the point of whitening your knuckles. It was heavier than you had expected; it didn’t help that your palms were drenched in sweat, leaving you readjusting your grip every few seconds.
A few feet away, sitting in the grass, Link watched you carefully as he sharpened his own sword. It had been his idea - after an uncomfortably close call with an angry moblin - that you should learn to defend yourself. It definitely wasn’t a bad idea, but you could practically feel Link’s watchful gaze and his tenseness each time you took a swing at the scarecrow in front of you.
You lunged forwards, taking a jab at its limp straw body, just as he’d taught you. It was satisfying to watch the dry grass guts spill out of the torn scarecrow; it was even more satisfying to see that you were actually improving.
“That wasn’t so bad!” you grinned, turning to Link - who nodded and gave you a thumbs up and a smile.
A gust of wind ruffled his hair as he turned back to his work. Pausing, you watched him for a moment. Over the last year that you had travelled with Link, you had always been amazed at how calm he seemed - even when faced by a Linel or hoard of Bokoblins; even on the night that he kissed you for the first time. Nothing ever fazed him; that was always something you thought you could be certain of.
At first, his silence had puzzled you. In the quiet moments you found your mind racing, were you bothering him? Was he listening? Would he rather you didn't say anything? The more time you spent together, you had grown to enjoy his company - you learned to read his expressions and pauses and silent laughter and suddenly he seemed to come to life. You found that he wasn’t mysterious or dangerous, but he was, in fact, the biggest dumbass you’d ever met. With everything he did came an air of mischievousness; everything was an adventure. And before you knew it, you were falling for the blonde-haired soldier.
You smiled to yourself, as he knit his eyebrows together with focus. Another sudden breeze sent his hair into his face and he shook his head - attempting to flick it away. As he did so, he caught your eye. It didn’t even last a second, but it was there.
You quickly turned away, hoping that he hadn't caught you staring. Nearly three months ago you had confessed to Link - on an overcast summer night, as you waded through a river. His face had been unreadable; you stared at him - desperately searching his face for an answer. All the words that you’d held in spilled out like blood pouring from a cut - yet suddenly you had nothing to say at all. His name was on your lips - then, all at once, his lips were as well. It had been three months since that night, but he still made you nervous.
A quiet snicker came from behind you and you looked back over your shoulder at the smug-faced boy.
"What?" You said - your voice several octaves higher than normal - feigning innocence.
He raised his eyebrows and returned to sharpening his sword - still smiling to himself. He barely had to do anything to make your heart skip a beat. And he knew that.
You huffed in a pointless attempt to mask how flustered you were. Sometimes you wished you could do something to make him as nervous as he made you.
You turned back to the scarecrow and adjusted your stance, ready to take another swing.
I’ll figure it out one day, You decided. I will make him blush.
Sweeping your sword, you cut away at the shredded scarecrow - watching as tatters of fabric tumbled to the ground.
You took a step back and - without warning - you lost your balance. Letting out a yelp of surprise you wobbled for a moment before landing in an awkward heap on the ground. As you hit the grass, a dull thump seemed to resonate through your body - leaving you aching slightly as you lay still on the ground.
Not only had the fall knocked the air out of your lungs, but it had apparently also knocked the coherent thoughts out of your head.
“Ouch,” you said, stupidly, as you stared up at the clear, blue sky. Before you could heave yourself up, a very-worried Link appeared at your side. His eyes were wide as he crouched beside you, frantically scanning you for any signs of harm.
You watched him, slightly confused - it was hardly a particularly dramatic fall, just the type of thing that seemed to happen to you at least three or four times a day.
“Hey, I’m fine,” you said softly, moving to sit up. “You don’t need to worry-”
He pushed you back down and reached behind him, grabbing his bag. He rummaged through it, pulling some bandages out.
You giggled, shaking your head, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Link, I’m fine - really!"
He pointed to your hands - which you had scraped slightly.
You laughed again, swatting him away. "Oh, it's all good - that's nothing."
It was true, it really was nothing. You tripped and knocked yourself all the time; your arms and legs were littered with cuts and bruises.
He sat back on his heels, raising an eyebrow - his expression still laced with concern.
"Seriously, I'm alright!"
He tilted his head at you worriedly. No matter how many times you stumbled or slipped - he never failed to panic.
You smiled softly and reached forward, putting your hand on his wrist. "You don't have to worry, I promise."
He glanced at your hand and then back at you. You suddenly saw the pinkness in his cheeks and a pang of excitement in your stomach brought a grin to your face.
"Are you blushing?" You leaned forwards, taking your head - watching as he looked away and scoffed.
You sat up fully and pushed a strand of hair from his face. "Awe, you do care!" You joked.
He rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway.
"I'll have to fall over more often." You grinned.
He cocked his head as if to say, more often?
"Yeah, yeah, I know I'm clumsy." You giggled. "But you love me anyway."
He rolled his eyes, but was unable to fight off a smile.
Yeah, you didn't mind being clumsy.
#link#botw link#loz link#legend of zelda breath of the wild#botw#breath of the wild#loz#loz botw#loz breath of the wild#botw link x reader#link x reader#loz link x reader
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no disrespect to the ppl who worked on them but i have GOT to get this off my chest: serpent sol/sharpen your teeth/serpent and the stars is SO stupid and confusing my god. like ok yeah they have some of the most beautiful animation in any warriors maproject and i can tell the animators put a lot of love into it. but the story is so fucking confusing and so far removed from warrior cats that these may as well be original characters in their own story instead of some complicated undertale au ass shit
and yet whenever anyone ive seen say this publicly expresses this opinion u get former friends/supporters of cheeteh z (who distanced themselves from him immediately after the accusations against him came out but still continue to defend his work) coming out of the woodwork to say "errrmm this is actually rly rude to say bc cheeteh has done so much worse :/ :/ :/ ur just selfish/hating on him bc its the Popular Thing to hate on him now" or "ummm this is a WARRIOR CATS AU and ur getting mad at CHEETZ'S writing??? but canon is sooo much worse :/ kinda hypocritical" like YES!!! I KNOW CANON SUCKS!!! but ive seen so many incredible rewrites/original stories/aus based on this series that ARENT confusing messes!!! why is it Controversial to criticize cheetehs maps for being overly complicated/confusing??? bc multiple ppl worked on the animation??? im not attacking the ANIMATORS, im criticizing the STORY. i have nothing against the animators!!! their work is absolutely stunning!!!! but good animation does not make a warrior cats fan project good.
i used to be subscribed to cheetz bc i still think to this day that cowboy mapleshade is one of the best wc maps ive ever seen. and comparing it to the clusterfuck of bizarre au lore hes come up with over the past year you can see the major difference: you can actually TELL whats going on in cowboy mapleshade without having to read a goddamn script. if ur familiar w the books thats an added bonus. the serpent and the stars/cheetehverse stuff is just. a huge mess of bizarre storytelling decisions that even fans who are familiar w the books would have a hard time understanding at first glance. and just bc warriors itself is ALSO a messy series doesnt make it any better!!! im tired of ppl acting like the cheetehverse is immune to criticism just bc its based on warrior cats or bc a lot of ppl worked on it. my god i should be allowed to express my opinion on the work of a public figure in the fandom without being dogpiled by ppl who claim they dont support him anymore but get awfully offended whenever u criticize SatS's storytelling
anyway rant over. sorry that was long ive had these feelings bottled up for a rly long time LMAOOOO
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five favorite fics that I've written (for writer appreciation day)
tagged by kat @sleepy-skittles thank u thank u 😘😘
5. in the garden sleeps a messenger — one of two non birdverse fics ive posted!! the target audience for this fic was me, twenty some odd years ago. ((love u bitch 🥰🥰)) anyway. edea and seifer have Thee Most Interesting Dynamic. it is insane to me how little there is about them. theres mommy issues. theres a highly problematic age gap. theres a concerning power dynamic. theres a hot evil milf with a banger aesthetic. theres the time loop or whatever the fuck was going on there. succession of witches defined my life for over a decade. seifer is into petplay i know this i know this. theres SO MUCH to explore here and it's all so underutilized in the game. this fic honestly does not even begin to get into but i consider it a decent first exploration and hopefully when i have time and energy i can do it a bit more justice. as it is though i really enjoy it!!
4. without a me there is no you —
She has the same blush rounding her cheeks and the same quiet, nervous laughter as the young Mór many years ago who muffled her kisses on Niall's mouth.
this bit was floating around in my head with perfectly clarity when i woke up one day and i immediately wrote out about six hundred words surrounding it on my phone before getting out of bed. im really interested in the implications of niall dreaming a docile sweet mannered replacement wife and i thought it would be interesting to explore it a bit from mór's perspective because she would be so impossibly biased. also thought it would be interesting if she fucked above mentioned replacement. this was my first time really trying to inhabit mór which, let me tell you, is really hard when the only canon information is scraps.
3. ambilevous — oh handcat fic, my weird little brain worm. all my fics are elaborate, long overstayed jokes in one way or another but this one i wrote specifically because the concept was just sooooo silly to me. absolutely absurd. certified kk comedy hour. it is, in usual fashion, a thinly veiled exploration of the more fucked up lynch family dynamics and how the barns arent quite what they seem but of course it is.
2. smoke alarms, smoke — my first exploration of the lynch family 🥰 it means a lot to me. i love this fic. the idea of the barns as a beautiful fairy tale ending had always rubbed me the wrong way and of course i love the slow desolation of locations through those that inhabit it which, really, what is the barns if not a haunted house waiting to happen. thats the part thats lacking (unfortunate!!) but i did get to write declan as a sad sad little kiddy which is one of my few life joys. i loved it when i wrote it and i love it now (which is saying a lot). while it isnt everything i want it to be i do very much love what it is!
1. it's a gift to be simple, it's a gift to be free — my aurora character study and probably the best thing ive written thus far...maybe ever. i honestly have no idea what the fuck i was on when i wrote this but god i wish i could get it back. some of my personal favorite prose comes from this fic. its a very personal fic in that i centered the emotional core on some of my own life bullshit. stylistically i owe so much of this fic to catherine valente's comfort me with apples which i had read around then (as if it wasnt obvious). i had already been thinking about aurora and her role in the lynch family but reading that helped solidify the tone i really wanted. this is another fic i sat down, wrote, and edited all in one night. i think if i hadn't posted it then it would've languished in editing hell so im very happy with what i put out.
oh and the recurring knife thing was because i was having feelings about knife maintenance, as one does. (if anyone wants me to come over and sharpen their kitchen knives and make you dinner lmk)
ive seen this passed around and lost track of who's already done it so if you would like participate then i am tagging you now. enjoy ((:
#kk writing#tagged stuff#late stuff too lol#i thought i was going to post a fic like froday or saturday and then cheat and say that was in my top five#BUT THEN#i was doing a ''quick'' final edit#and then i was like#oh this scene would b better if i#completely#.....#changed it#((^:#so here we are !!!#long post#im so sorry I talk so much
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no offense but all offense. how do you not like mania. i think i got too many memories getting in the way of me. even at the best of times im out of my mind. i testify if i die in my sleep then know that my life was just a killer dream. youre the last of a dying breed write our names in the wet concrete i wonder if your therapist knows everything about me. i am a collapsing star with tunnel vision but only for you. im done with having dreams the thing that i believe you drain all the fear from me. i wanna sleep on every piece of fuzz and stuffing that comes out of you. i took too many hits off this memory i need to come down. we were lovers first confidants but never friends were we ever friends. the distance between us it sharpens me like a knife. i know its just a number but youre the eighth wonder. ill stop wearing black when they make a darker color. woke up on the wrong side of paradise. i hate all my friends i miss the days when i pretended with you. i became such a strange shape from trying to fit in. take the pain make it billboard big then swallow it for me. oh the things that you do in the name of what you love you are doomed but just enough. i am just a human trying to avoid my certain doom. if there were any more left of me id give it to you. i got dreams of my own but i want to make yours come true. youre the one habit i just cant kick. im back with a madness im a champion of the people who dont believe in champions. im just young enough to still believe but young enough not to know what to believe in. if i can live through this i can do anything. you say please dont ever change but you dont like me the way i am. the world tried to burn all the mercy out of me. dancing all alone in the morning light. i fell in love but i didnt fall down. feel like im bulletproof. you are my truest feeling yet i love you so much its just like oxygen. ive lived so much life i think that god is gonna have to kill me twice. i only wrote this down to make you press rewind. woke up on the wrong side of reality and theres a madness thats just coursing right through me. im just here for the fall. im living out of time eternal heatstroke. spiritual revolt from the waist down. im just a full tank away from freedom. these are the last blues we're ever gonna have. the glow of the cities below lead us back to the places that we never should have left. im yours till the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll away. looking for pieces of broken hourglass trying to get it all back put it back together as if the time had never passed. i just want to let you break my brain.
#tbis is so long i did not mean for it to get this long but i really do love this fucking album#bug shut up
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Can you Learn from every person you meet?
Well the answer is yes, there is so much you can learn from every human on this planet, we dont normally look but try having a look what you can see, or should i say what reflect from them, this would be probably the most interesting point within talking to another, and looking for a lesson. Like im with a person today who was very set in there ways, judgmental, but i could see that there were points about them, other than reflecting myself with parts that i got triggered by was that they had a strong will to get things done and I admired that about them, it was a ‘we can do it attitude” which was great so not only could i learn about the reflected part of myself but also a drive within them that i would like to see in myself. To not to give up is something id like to work on to get up after a fall fast and to not fall as often, to sharpen my pencil as it were :) and use that determination.
Also today a technician wanted to explain to me how his service was the best and that he wouldn’t rip me off lol usually when i hear this i think oh yeh your definitely going to then lol yes i can be very judgmental of people when they seek my approval of being a nice person. Only because i see it in myself of wanting to be liked so acted extra nice as it were to be like, ive got to ask why do i want to be liked? As being like this to someone is a form of manipulation i see, you want something from someone, they have something you want which is usually your money lol but of cause it would be to have attention of someone you admire or need something doing from them. Anyway where did i get to oh yes the technician while i could see the i dont trust you come up ,n i was like hang on a minute, how can you judge him so fast, give the guy a break with these little thoughts of judgment and just say yes, he’s convenient and hasn’t done a thing wrong yet so come on.
A taxi driver that obviously had a physical problem and just couldn’t stop burping i was like this feels horrible sat here having to listen to him belch every couple of minutes until i thought hang on this poor guy has obviously been through some emotional problems for him to result in this physical problem, and who am i to judge him with my own crap and physical problems??? So i learnt again, and i thing you can learn something from every person you meet, its an opportunity to see self and learn what ever form turns up, so every interaction is going to be special.
Living word to support me to stop and learn with all people i meet? Is consideration
Consideration, can see alter, can see shine.
To see realize and understand everyone has a gift
To see all others have there crosses to bare
The gift when slow down and listen.
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Ive seen a lot of your posts and i find many of the things you say to be facinating and eye opening when it comes to the dsmp.
But when it comes to your character or story critical posts it feels very... hateful? Hateful isnt exactly the right word because its clear you enjoy the dsmp. But perhaps frustrating and annoyed. Its like you expect these random minecrafters to be professional story boarders and directors?
I feel like a part of this fandom has forgotten that the story originally started on improv. Sure, the story could be more balanced since its scripted now.
And dont get me wrong its important to talk about flaws! But I feel like you and other people are putting these mcyts on a high pedestal. These people aren't in an animation studio trying to develope this detailed plot where something mentioned in season 1 will make sense in season 6. They're just friends who one day decided to make a story. Sure some of them take the story more seriously than others, but should everyone be held up to the same standard?
I think we should just let the silly little minecrafters do their silly little roleply.
1: I treat the dream smp like I treat all of the other media that I consume, because I find meta analysis And Critique fun.
critique is actually what I have the most fun writing, because I’m a very adhd and autistic person and it can be difficult for me to get my thoughts to flow into a coherent idea without a point of Focus. I’ll have a dozen ideas that I’m chewing on for hours, days, weeks, months, or even years that suddenly click in to place with the right Idea, the right wording, the right trigger thanks to thoughts I’ve had digesting a new lore stream or to someone else’s post. and that’s a really rewarding process for me.
I don’t critique because I hate the dream smp, I critique because being involved in this media and this fandom made me Feel Something and I want to unwind what that is. and getting at the bottom of those feelings means being honest. and that’s fun ! I enjoy being able to do that and I enjoy watching Other People do it too.
I Can get worked up and emotional, especially in the direct aftermath of a stream, but that’s a part of what makes it fun. getting worked up over something that’s ultimately harmless and picking apart what it makes you Feel is a really low stakes way of sharpening your analysis and capacity for self reflection, as well as just being, you know, Entertaining For Some People.
and what I Feel doesn’t have to be negative either, I’m just more likely to post a critique because, like I said, I am fantastically adhd. people know me as being very well worded, but trying to do analysis when I’m really invested in something is like trying to do crossword on a trampoline. my dms get my stream of consciousness in that regard fjkldaslkjadfs
2: the idea that we shouldn’t critique the dream smp because it’s done by amateurs has always been a take that reads as diminishing the quality of not only the dream smp, but of non-published media.
yes it Is a good idea to temper your expectations for what is realistically possible for these people in this context in this medium, because there Needs to be margin of error for live media. the dream smp has challenges that tv shows simply do not, and that’s part of what makes it as special as it is.
but to say that we’re not allowed to Think about it, that we shouldn’t take it seriously as a creative work and should just instead sit back and let it wash over us because it’s a Silly Little Minecraft Story just overtly devalues the story that’s being told and the work that’s gone into telling it.
some of the best stories I’ve ever experienced have been independent work from either a single creator or a small team of creators posted on the internet, often times from people just starting or who are new to the medium they’re telling it in. The Dream Smp Is One Of Those Stories.
I’m not comparing the dream smp to a blockbuster or something that’s been carefully crafted with millions of dollars and hundreds of hands like Arcane. I’m comparing the dream smp to Itself. to what it’s Already accomplished through it’s story telling and through it’s medium with the Exact Same limitations that it has now (minus the horrendous scheduling issues, which is out of the creators’ control but still something that could’ve and still Can Be better worked around).
the dream smp has some of the most compelling storytelling I have ever been a part of and it’s Because of its medium, not despite it. and that’s Exactly why I’m as invested as I am, Exactly why I’m not just going to turn my brain off and say that it’s just a silly little minecraft story.
every time I see someone say that it’s Just A Minecraft Roleplay and we shouldn’t think about it that much I remember quackity saying that this was the most fulfilling work he’s done in his entire 8 year career, and it can’t help but read as disrespectful to me. or at least as Misguided.
it’s Okay if you don’t like critical analysis. I do it because it’s fun and makes my engagement with a piece of media I like Better, and nobody else has to do if it that isn’t true for them. but this idea that people get that critical analysis Must stem from hatred, Must stem from impossibly high expectations, Must stem from a place of disrespect is a strange one that I think we as a fandom need to drop.
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A Million Times Over, part 1
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Todoroki Shouto x American!Reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 11.3k holy shit this is so long guys. fuck.
[ ☀︎, ☁︎, ✘ (nsfw!) ] (series warnings)
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : some NSFW themes but no actual smut. a lot of pining and angst. some cute moments too tho!
𝐛𝐢𝐨 : You lose all memories from the past five years of your life due to an accident-induced coma, including any recollection of your beloved boyfriend and fellow pro-hero, Shouto. He’s devastated that you don’t remember him, but the both of you are determined to get your memories back, no matter how long it takes. In the meantime, you attempt to rebuild your relationship with him… while also nurturing the spark that’s still very much lit between you two.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : Originally I intended for this to just be a long fic… but even for my standards, this would be wayyy too long to be just in one post. I decided to split the fic into three instead, so this will be the first part of my very first multi-chap series, A Million Times Over, for my beloved Sho <3
𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : big thank you to my sweet friend @todoscript for beta-reading this for me and hyping me up!! love you, can’t wait to read what you have in the works soon <3
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“.../n”
…
“.. y/n…”
…
🅃he buzzing noise in your ears sharpened. White light snuck between your eyelids and you groaned, fingers reaching toward your temple. Confusion burst forth as you recognized foreign, plastic tubing connected to your skin, your eyes opening wider as you began to register your surroundings.
You were in a hospital room. To be more exact, you were in the bed in the middle of the hospital room— meaning, you were the patient. The realization shocked you, and you jolted upright abruptly, suddenly all too aware of the tubes stuck up your nose. At your sudden movement, large, warm hands landed on your arms and rubbed at your skin gently, making your attention turn to the person sitting at your bedside.
“Y/n? Hey, you’re okay, love, it's alright. You’re safe, I’ve got you.” His voice was smooth and deep, an anchor for you to grab onto in the midst of your confusion.
You were gawking, staring straight at him— you couldn't help it. Your jaw was probably hanging open, gaping like a fish at the man before you. What were you in the hospital for exactly— had you gone insane and dreamed this situation up?
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“Sh-Shouto Todoroki,” you mumbled, gaze connected with his tired but bright, heterochromatic orbs. His brow furrowed and his head tilted slightly at your courteous acknowledgement, but he brushed it aside and smiled at you instead.
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you took in his form beside you. He was tall— you could tell even though he was seated— and he was more handsome than you’d ever imagined, somewhere in his mid-to-late twenties judging by the sharp, masculine features of his face.
“Y/n…,” he breathed out, a large, calloused hand coming up to cup your jaw. Then he pulled you into a hug, his strong, muscular arms wrapping around your torso and cradling the back of your head to press you into his chest. He smelled of clean laundry and winter, a crisp, fresh scent that made an unknown comfort blossom in your chest.
Slowly you placed an arm around his neck, your other hand laying limp on the sheets as it was still connected to the IV. You rubbed his back slightly, still dazed by your apparent situation. Looking outside the open window in the corner of the room, you realized it was daytime; yellow sunlight beaming into the room and pouring onto the tiled floor. There were vases of flowers all around the room, as well as stuffed animals, cards, and balloons that all wished for your health and speedy recovery.
“I’m so glad you’re awake,” Shouto whispered into your shoulder, still holding you tight in his embrace. His voice was still low, but this time it shook with profound emotion. “I missed you… so much.”
Your body felt relaxed in his arms, even though your brain was whirring a thousand miles a minute. You had no clue how you’d ended up in the hospital, who sent you all these gifts, where you even were geographically, and most importantly, why Shouto Todoroki was holding onto you like you meant the world to him. You patted his back stiffly and he let go of you just enough to move his face in front of yours. His eyes held such love and relief, the emotions as clear as day that butterflies ruptured from your stomach. As if his expression wasn’t enough to get your heart racing, he leaned forward and captured your lips, pressing his mouth to yours in a firm but sweet kiss.
It only lasted for a minute, but it was enough to have your heart rate monitor start beeping rapidly, noisily chiming at the other side of your bed. His face was so perfect and smooth up close— you couldn’t close your eyes as you took in his astonishing beauty. Sure, you’d imagined he would be perfect… but in person, here before you, he was indescribable. The man of your dreams. And a good kisser, too.
A nurse rushed into the room, seemingly out of breath. When she caught sight of the two of you, your lips locked, and Shouto holding you so tenderly, she let out an awkward cough and pawed at her scrubs, averting her eyes as she approached your bedside. Shouto pulled away, only to plant a soft kiss on the very tip of your nose before leaning back into his seat. He had a wide smile on his lips, content-crinkled eyes settled on you as his hand enveloped yours.
“So you’re awake!” the nurse stated excitedly, busying around with the beeping machine, managing to shut the blasted thing off. “How are you feeling? Any pain, discomfort?”
You glanced at Shouto, who smiled at you warmly and squeezed your hand. If that heart rate machine was still on, surely it would be going haywire again. “Uhh, I think I’m okay… just kinda groggy,” you replied truthfully, your voice coming out hoarse. You cleared your throat and she handed you a small cup of water, which you took gratefully. You continued on after taking a few sips, the liquid cooling your irritated throat. “No pain, but I’m a little… confused, to be honest.”
“I’m sure you are, hon,” the nurse said, giving you a smile full of understanding. It made you feel a little less on edge, and you gave her a half-hearted smile back. “You were in a bad accident almost a month ago. You suffered some head trauma, and you’ve been in a coma ever since. You also had two bruised ribs, and some minor surface wounds. The cuts are all gone now, and your ribs should be almost all healed by now as well, but if you have any discomfort on your left side here,” she gestured to your ribs and continued, “just let me know. I’ll page your doctor and we’ll do a quick check-up on you in just a minute!”
You nodded slowly, the gears turning in your head. You were in an accident, and then a coma for a whole month? It all seemed so crazy to you— you can’t remember a single thing leading up to your supposed accident. Head trauma… you weren’t usually the type to get hurt, and you’d never been in a coma before. “Umm… what kind of accident was it?” you asked, looking between Shouto and the nurse, not really directing the question to either of them specifically.
“You were flung into a cement pillar during a fight, love. The blow was mostly on your side, hence your bruised ribs… but your head smacked into the pillar secondarily,” Shouto replied, his smile disappearing as an unfamiliar bitterness washed over his handsome face. “We were battling together and you were knocked unconscious instantly… you’ve been asleep ever since.”
“A fight..?” you frowned, tilting your head in confusion. “We were fighting, and you threw me against a… cement pillar?”
Shouto looked horrified at your misunderstanding, adamantly shaking his head and making his soft, two-toned hair shine in the sunlight. “No, I would never hurt you— the villain did, baby. I incapacitated them right after,” he paused, eyes casting downwards and his free hand forming into a fist at the memory, “but the damage had already been done...”
That sounded right… your job was herowork, you could at least recall that. But you didn’t think you’d ever fought beside a hero as great and renowned as Japan’s famed dual-tempered Shouto. Sure, you’d been doing your best to climb the American hero leaderboard, but you weren’t by any means at the top yet. “Umm… can you tell me.. why we were fighting a villain together, exactly?”
Shouto looked directly at you, his brow furrowing before he looked to the nurse on the other side of your bed. They shared a look, and you shuffled uncomfortably in the cotton sheets pulled up to your waist, unease sitting like a rock in your stomach.
“Y/N, can you tell me what you remember before the accident?” Shouto asked slowly, his grip on your hand tightening just a fraction. There was a sliver of something else in his voice now, a hint of urgency in his request.
You looked between him and the nurse hesitantly, racking your brain for anything you could think of. “Uhh… I don’t… I don’t remember, I— I’m sorry.”
“That’s alright hon, don’t worry. It’s common to have some confusion after just waking up from a coma. We can try an easier question. Let’s see… do you know your birthday?”
You responded instantly, and there was the tiniest amount of relief on Shouto’s face at your correct response.
“Your mother’s maiden name?”
You got that one right too, Shouto’s thumb rubbing over your knuckles soothingly in silent praise.
“How about your phone number?”
You took a second to think of it, but you answered that one too. The nurse looked over at Shouto to see his reaction, and so did you. But Shouto was frowning at you, making dread drip into your veins. “That’s your US number, love… what’s your Japanese number?”
You looked at him incredulously. “My Japanese number? Why would I need a Japanese number?” you inquired, thinking this must have been some kind of trick question.
The nurse and Shouto shared a more serious look, and Shouto swallowed as he looked away from you, turning toward the window instead. You squeezed at his hand but he didn’t respond, so you turned to the nurse instead, confused now more than ever.
“I don’t understand…,” you mumbled, hoping for some clarification from her. She smiled at you, but this time it did not reach her eyes.
“You’re in Japan, hon. You’re speaking Japanese right now… and you’re also one of the top heroes in Japan, just like your boyfriend here.”
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The next few days passed by in a blur. The hospital staff was all very kind and hospitable, but it still felt like you had woken up in the middle of someone else’s life. Even though your body was yours, and you looked just the same, you couldn’t help the unease that lingered from your imposter syndrome.
You had gone through so many tests and check-ups that they all blended together at this point. You had been poked, prodded, and quizzed the entire time since you’d woken up from your coma. There were so many different tests regarding your memory that your brain felt like melted jelly by now, and your frustration was at an all-time high.
Shouto had gotten up and left the room shortly after the nurse informed you of your situation. Your heart felt heavy for him— he seemed so excited, so relieved that you were finally awake— and this was the devastating reality that he was left to face. After patiently waiting at your bedside for weeks, this was the bitter pill he had to swallow when you had finally come-to… you imagined that he was not eager to confront such a terrible twist of fate. Yet he had come back into your room half an hour later, eyes suspiciously puffy and pink, and his nose a little stuffy, but nonetheless, he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles, squeezing even tighter than before. Even though you barely knew him, his presence made you feel safe, and you were glad to have him by your side.
Between your numerous mental tests and check-ins, the conversation between the two of you was surprisingly easy. He was patient with you, and kind. Apparently, you’d first met him in America at a hero convention about five years ago, and you started dating after a year and a half of being friends. Your memory had been completely wiped of the past five years, leaving your Japanese friends, coworkers, and dedicated boyfriend all in the dark. According to Shouto, you had befriended many of the top heroes in Japan, seeing as they were also your colleagues. It turned out that the numerous flower arrangements scattered about your room were from these heroes, as well as fans… though a good amount were from the heterochromatic man himself.
Shouto took care of you during your days at the hospital. He talked to the doctor after your check-ins, pulling them aside and conversing in hushed voices in the hallway just outside your door. He called your family for you and flew them out, only adding to the chaos in your hospital room. He told all of your Japanese friends and acquaintances to stay away for now, knowing that meeting them would probably just overwhelm and guilt you. And each day he would bring you a treat that you would inevitably love, proving to you that he really did know you, and that he knew your preferences and even your favorite boba order. He probably would have stayed by your bedside even through each night, but you insisted he go home and sleep in a proper bed. You already felt bad enough that he was taking a hiatus from hero work until you recovered… you didn’t need to add his future back issues to your already guilty conscience.
You found yourself enjoying your time with him. You knew who he was— you had certainly heard of him during your previous hero work that you actually remembered. You kept it to yourself that you had harbored an embarrassingly large crush on him, though. You figured he probably knew that, seeing as he was your boyfriend of three and a half years… no need to bring it up! But now that your memory had reverted back to your mental state five years ago… you inevitably had feelings for the pro hero, and you weren’t sure if he either couldn’t tell how he affected you, or if he was just being polite. Whatever the case, there was still a spark between the two of you. Even though all the progress of your relationship had been erased on your side, each day your feelings only grew for the selfless, charming, and witty half-and-half man. So much so, that you would now reach out for his hand when he would enter your room each morning, and he would smile at you and slip his fingers between yours, no matter how much it hurt to restrain himself from showing you more affection.
After about a week, you were cleared to go home. Your nurse, who you had come to know as Akari, told you that the doctor had originally wanted to keep you for longer… but that Shouto was such a doting beau that they had given you the express go-ahead, knowing you would be in the highest of care.
Your memory was still not restored, though you had started to remember odd things here and there. Like how to use your phone— it was the newest model and far from the technology you were familiar with five years ago, but you opened the device and navigated it expertly on your first go. The doctor said that that was a good sign, though it could just be muscle memory... but Shouto still gave you a small smile of encouragement. Next was when you had asked Shouto to bring you your favorite moisturizer, a Japanese brand, and you just mentioned it so casually in conversation that you would have blown right over it had Shouto not pointed it out to you. You were recalling little, mundane things here and there, but never anything big— no people, no places. No distinct memories.
Akari assured you many times that as long as you kept working at it, your memories would return. She always said it when you were frustrated— she could tell your moods and she could see how hard you were trying. But she also said it when you were doing fine, and that was when you knew she was saying it more to Shouto than anything. You were glad to have her there, because even though Shouto was there for you physically, he kept most of his emotions sealed off from you… and it was hard for you to read him. Akari was an excellent nurse, and you felt blessed to have been taken care of by her. But a tiny, minuscule part of you was jealous that she could tell how he was feeling, while you were left in the dark.
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You sighed as the car door clicked shut, feeling apprehensive. The vehicle that Shouto had driven to the hospital today is sleek, shiny, and foreign. You had no clue what model it was, but you knew it must have been expensive— the interior was framed with a polished wood that complimented the peanut-butter color of the leather seats and steering wheel. Shouto slipped into the drivers’ side next to you, offering you a small smile as he clicked his seatbelt into place.
“Are you nervous?” he asked, pausing before he turned the ignition. The car purred to life, a welcome screen popping up in the middle of the console.
You thought it over for a moment before answering, watching as he slid the parking ticket out from under the overhead visor. “A little… I think excited is a better word for it, though.”
Shouto’s smile broadened just a tad, his hand reaching over the center console and squeezing yours briefly. “Me too,” he murmured, eyes locked with yours for just a moment too long before his arm propped back against the corner of your seat, and he reversed out of the parking spot. You couldn’t help but admire his chiseled jawline as he did so, eyes flitting away quickly when he caught your lingering gaze.
The drive from the hospital to your home wasn’t long, and you were thankful that was the case— you’d have definitely felt even guiltier if he’d been driving for a long time all these days to come and see you. The city distracted you along the way, bustling and bright as ever, and your eyes were wide with wonder as you took in the colorful displays littering the streets and storefronts. Everything— everyone just seemed so alive; it was impossible to keep the smile from your face.
At one red light in particular, you saw a cat cafe, zoning in on a particularly pudgy cat snoozing at the top of the cat tree in the window. You giggled and pointed it out to Shouto, glancing over at him to see if he was looking, and the softest smile was on his lips as his eyes gazed deeply into yours. You held his stare for a moment and then looked away again, flustered and your cheeks feeling warm as you cleared your throat.
It was then that you noticed his hand lying atop the center of the console, tempting you to reach out and lace your fingers with his, like you had done so many times at the hospital. But it felt different without the safety of the white walls and medical equipment you had grown to know, somehow scarier— like he might reject you for whatever reason. You chose to keep your hands to yourself for now.
“It seems like you’re curious about the city,” he said as silence settled between the pair of you, the only noise in the cabin of the vehicle being the low melody from the radio.
You shrugged and hummed in agreement, eyes now glued to the other side of the window as countless people and businesses whizz by. “I like to know the city I’m protecting,” you answered, leaning back against the headrest. “It makes me feel more connected to the people that live here… the people we’re helping when we do our jobs. Y’know?”
Shouto nodded, humming his own agreement. “Yeah… I know what you mean,” he replied. After a short pause, he turned to you, waiting for another red light to turn green. “Maybe we can come out in disguise sometime… if that would interest you. I can show you around, we can have a little adventure.”
You visibly perked up at his suggestion, your grin making his heart flutter suddenly in his chest. “Yes! I would love that!” you beamed at him and he smiled back at you, the faintest hint of a blush dusting his cheeks.
You bit your lip as he turned back toward the road, the car shifting forward as he pressed the gas at the green signal. He was trying… so you had to, too.
“But only if we go together, okay?” You reached over and took his hand before you could chicken out. His fingers fit perfectly in between yours, and your cheeks felt hot again as you gazed intently at your intertwined hands.
Shouto let out a little breath of surprise at your action, but his fingers curled tightly around yours in under a second. “Of course… love.”
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Shouto had sent your family home, despite their protests. The doctor’s orders were for you to resume life as you normally would— apparently, that would be the quickest way for you to regain your memories. The verdict was much to your parents’ dismay, but they understood that it was the fastest means for you to return to, well, you. So they left Shouto to take care of you, and he insisted that once your memories came back, he would fly them back out to see you again, or the two of you would come to them.
Though technically he was a stranger to you, he was the closest thing to home in the strange storm of your memory loss. He had been there for you every step of the way, every day. He tended to your every need, and he even anticipated your needs before you were aware of them. That didn’t change once you arrived at your shared apartment.
If you could even call it that.
“Holy shit,” you mumbled when Shouto unlocked the door for you, gesturing for you to enter first. Your jaw was on the herringbone-patterned, hardwood floor as your eyes wandered around the entryway, taking in every design detail you came across. You barely managed to take off your shoes before you were peeking your head into the bathroom next to the entry hallway, inspecting the clean and gorgeously-furnished half-bath.
Shouto chuckled and closed the door behind him, making sure to turn the lock as he set his keys into a porcelain bowl beside the door. “Go explore, I think you’ll like what you see,” he said amusedly, a half-smirk on his pink lips as he eyed you. Your starstruck expression only grew as you padded into the open space of the living room.
A long, cushy sofa and chaise stood before the huge flat-screen that was nestled into an elegant built-in, shelves filled with books you knew and loved and ones you didn’t recognize, too. Game consoles lined the shelf below the plasma screen, and your toes curled into the fuzzy rug underfoot as you gaped at the room. Everything— even the curtains and the coasters on the coffee table— was exactly in your taste. You felt like you were in wonderland. Had you fallen down a rabbit hole and this was the magical, heavenly place you had landed in? Clearly this had to be a dream, right? You woke up as Todoroki Shouto’s long-time girlfriend, and apparently you lived here, with him?
Goddamn.
The kitchen, laundry room, main bath, office, bedroom, and master bath all fit your taste exactly the same. Only the second office and spare bedroom seemed a little out of place— they were more of a traditional Japanese design, but even though it was different, you did not mind. Even the runner on the staircase— who had a staircase in their apartment, by the way?!— was in a pleasing color and pattern. There was even a decently sized home gym, with various equipment and machines and a mirror running the length of the entire wall. By the end of your expedition, you were simply at a loss for words. You found Shouto sitting on one of the stools at the marble island that separated the kitchen and the living room, busy combing through some manila files.
“Umm,” you started, catching his attention.
He looked up at you, propping his chin onto his hand as his elbow rested on the counter. One brow quirked up, he grinned slyly at your outright astonishment. “Well?” he prompted, sitting up and rolling his neck, then stretching his broad shoulders. “What do you think?”
You try not to linger on the way the muscles rippled underneath his tight, crisp shirt, playing off your silence as shock. “It’s uh… perfect? I live here? I actually live here, right? You’re not pulling my leg?”
Shouto chuckled and shook his head. “I would never, love. Well, I have before, but no— I’m not right now. You live here. We live here. It’s all ours.”
You laughed giddily, unable to contain your excitement. Shouto smiled fondly at you, your grin infectious as your eyes wandered around the kitchen once more.
“Snack pantry is behind that door,” he nodded his head to the side and your eyes grew even starrier. He couldn’t help the laugh that trickled out of him at your instant footsteps— you were still you, after all. He knew all the ways to your heart very well, and one of them was most definitely through food.
“Woah.” Your mouth hung open once again at the rows of snacks and foods that greeted your gaze when you opened the door, the light flicking on automatically. Your eyes danced over the labels, recognizing many of your favorite flavors throughout the variety. “We could survive a whole year off of this stuff, Shouto.”
You stiffened when an arm wrapped around your middle, his front pressing up against your back as his chin fell onto your shoulder. That same comforting scent encircled you, but this time it was mixed with a subtle, woodsy aroma that made your mouth water.
Shouto breathed softly into your hair, the tip of his nose brushing the side of your neck. “I stocked up for your return, love.” He took another leisurely deep breath before he pulled back, his arm falling from your body and leaving you surprisingly cold without his touch. “Wanted you to have everything you could possibly desire.”
Your eyes inspected the pattern on the hardwood floor as he stepped away from you, your arm crossing over your front to grab onto your bicep nervously. Letting out a small laugh, you replied, “Yeah, I think you covered all the bases…”
He only hummed as he returned to his seat, sliding on a pair of thin metal glasses you hadn’t seen him take off before. You couldn’t help but think he looked incredibly handsome like this— a rare, domestic sight for only your eyes to enjoy. “Sorry I can’t entertain you at the moment,” he said, that analytical gaze locking onto you once more. “My agency asked me to look over these cases and I just have to finish them up— I’m technically on leave, but I still want to help out when I can. I only need another half hour or so. Feel free to help yourself to anything you like. This is your home, after all.”
You smiled and nodded, rolling back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Alright, I’ll try not to bother you.” Shouto frowned at your wording, but you carried on anyway. “I think I’ll poke around our room and see if I can find something that triggers a memory.” Your acknowledgement of your shared bedroom seemed to put him at ease, and with that, you grabbed a strawberry-flavored snack from the pantry before making your way past him, roaming over to the bedroom.
“You can go through my things if you want, too!” He called from behind you, having already made your way to the stairs. Choosing not to reply to his invitation, you hopped up the steps and quietly closed the door to your bedroom, hands landing on your hips. Inspecting the room from left to right, you decided to go through the toiletries in the master bath before anything else.
Before you could move even a foot in the direction of the en-suite, a furry creature darted out from underneath the bed skirt and dashed toward you. You gasped in delight at the gorgeous visage of the long-haired cat— she had bright blue eyes and fine white fur, her coat streaked with gray here and there. The cat meowed cutely and curled around your ankle, rubbing her head against your leg affectionately.
You immediately crouched down and lowered yourself to her level, fingers eagerly diving into her soft fur and offering a good scratch behind the ears. “Hi gorgeous,” you cooed, the animal mewling back at you in response. Your fingers found her collar and you flipped over the tag, reading her name with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Yuki.”
Heart softened at the thought of Shouto owning such a pretty creature, you gave her a good long rub before you decided to move on to your quest at hand. The creature followed closely behind, twisting in between your legs as you entered the en-suite.
The bathroom was large and luxurious, just what you would expect from a pro-hero of Shouto’s standing. It occurred to you that you too, were a hero of such regard, which must explain why you could afford all the lavish things you came across while combing through the closets and cabinetry.
You went through countless skincare products, face masks, makeup items, and bathing goods on what you presumed was your side of the double sink before you peeked into Shouto’s drawers. You fingered through his hygienic products, mumbling to yourself in surprise when you came across skincare items whose existence most men would not even be aware of. You shrugged and figured that you just must be an excellent girlfriend and teacher, assuming he used them correctly.
Eventually you found his shaving items, eyes scanning the labels until you find his aftershave. Shrugging, you took the cap off, giving a tentative sniff before you realized that must be what you smelled on him earlier, when he’d pressed up against you from behind and nuzzled into your neck. You bit your lip as you recalled how his arm felt around your waist, his nose on your throat. It had felt so intimate, and oddly… natural.
It was the most contact you’d had with him so far. While you were at the hospital, he would hold your hand. Besides that first moment when you had just woken up— when he hugged and kissed you, and the fireworks that had gone off had been then overshadowed by the horrific realization that your memory had been wiped— the half-hug just twenty minutes ago was the only time he had initiated further physical contact with you.
You frowned. It wasn’t like you’d been super affectionate toward him, either. Sure, you had reached out for his hand at the hospital, and you took it again during the car ride home… but now that it was just the two of you, alone in your home… it felt different. Maybe that was why Shouto had asked if you felt nervous when you were in the car, following your discharge from the hospital only an hour ago. Had he seen it coming— this potential pitfall in the reconstruction of your relationship? You wondered how he felt about all of this, but you were too shy to ask him so directly. Not when you barely knew him.
“Missed me so much you’re sniffing my cologne?”
You froze and glanced up at the mirror, Shouto’s reflection smirking at you from his leaned position against the doorway. Your cheeks immediately went warm and fuzzy again as you capped the glass bottle, carefully placing it back into its drawer before looking over your shoulder to him. A glance at the clock on the wall revealed it had been forty minutes; you must have gotten swept up in examining your beauty products.
He didn't have his glasses on anymore, and he had changed into a solid-colored t-shirt, the crisp button-down he’d donned earlier nowhere to be seen. Damn it… you had missed your chance to ogle at him with his shirt off. At your silence, his smirk melted into a small smile, stepping forward and joining your sitting form on the heated-tile floor. “Don’t worry, I’ve done the same to your perfume before as well,” he murmured as he reached toward the drawer on your far side, his arm brushing against your back as he searched for the glass vial. “You can try it, too. It’s the most recent addition to your collection, and I personally am very partial to its scent.”
The contact made you swallow, your gaze flicking over to his. He was looking at the various perfume bottles in the drawer, though, giving you the chance to inspect his face as his hair fell forward, soft locks of red and white splaying across his forehead. He was so breathtaking up close like this… your gaze dropped to his lips. God, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to feel those lips on yours again, to be in his arms and to be held as tenderly as you were that first day you awoke.
“Oh right,” he chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “I brought it into the spare room the other day… Must’ve forgot to put it back.” He leaned back, ending the accidental physical contact with you.
You looked at him quizzically. “The spare room? Can I ask why?”
Shouto blushed and your heart thudded in your chest. Oh crap, he was so cute with his cheeks tinged pink. “Yeah… I’ve been sleeping in there since the accident. It just feels…,” he paused as he searched for the right word, eyes avoiding yours, “wrong… to be in our bed without you.”
Your own cheeks warmed at that, his confession pulling at your heartstrings. “So the perfume..?”
His cheeks darkened a few shades, the hand on his neck rubbing harder at his skin. “Ah, that’s… honestly kind of… embarrassing to explain.”
You reached out so your hand covered his, and Shouto sighed as he allowed your fingers to slide in between his. “Can I guess? Will you tell me if I’m right?” He nodded at that, deciding it was better if he didn't have to say it. “You spray my perfume onto a pillow at night and snuggle up with it?”
Shouto’s eyes widened at your immediate response, swallowing before he let out a stiff laugh and a nod. “Yeah, that’s exactly right… kind of lame, isn’t it?”
Shaking your head, you smiled gently at him. “No, I think it’s sweet. It’s just what I would do if you were away, too.”
There’s a shocked silence that filled the bathroom then, Shouto’s wide eyes fixed on you for a long, intense moment. Eventually you broke eye contact, looking to the floor with an awkward smile.
“And you don’t have to do that tonight…” you offered quietly. “If you want, I mean… you can sleep in here.”
“Is that where you’ll be sleeping?”
You looked back at him, surprised by his instant reply. “Y-Yeah, I think so…”
“Alright,” he conceded, his blank face melting into a warm smile. “Then that’s where I’ll sleep, too.”
You returned the gesture, pleased to have made him happy. “Will you be spraying me with perfume before we tuck in?” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“No,” Shouto answered seriously, the smile dropping from his face, “your natural scent is a thousand times better than any perfume, love. I’ve missed it lingering on our sheets.”
Cheeks warmed for what seemed like the thousandth time today, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and smiled, unsure of what to say. “Aha okay… well, I think you smell pretty good, too.”
⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆
Shouto originally wanted to order in from your favorite restaurant for dinner, but you managed to sweet talk him into allowing you to cook instead. After about a week of feeling completely worthless, it was nice to have something you could finally, actually do.
The refrigerator was just as stocked as the pantry, so after analyzing the plethora of ingredients at your disposal, you decided on a meal and set off, gathering all the things you’d need in an excited hurry. Just as you were about to start washing vegetables, Shouto slipped an apron over your head, steady hands drawing the ties together at the bottom of your spine. The garment fit you perfectly, intricate design in your favorite color. You thanked him as you glanced over your shoulder, grinning up at him.
There was a somewhat somber look in his eyes, a halfhearted smile just barely curving his lips before he nodded and moved away, retreating back to the other side of the counter where he’s staked out to watch you work. He’d offered to help— numerous times, actually— but you told him to just sit back and relax. You wanted to do something for the tired man, even if it was as small as putting together a meal.
It didn't take long for you to get into a rhythm. Chopping the vegetables and preparing the other ingredients came naturally to you, and you found yourself enjoying the process. It was something familiar, which was very much welcome.
“Do we cook a lot?” you inquired, raising your voice a bit so Shouto could hear you over the sizzling pan in front of you.
He was leaning on the countertop again— he must’ve known he looked delicious like that or something— and he glanced over at you from the open book he was reading. “Mm, when we have time. It’s not that we don’t enjoy it, but usually we’re both very busy. It’s normal for us to leave early, and return home late.”
You nodded in understanding, grinding fresh peppercorns above the skillet and giving the contents a stir.
“I like everything you cook for me, though.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that, stealing a look over at him. While your cooking had improved since your teenage years, it wasn’t like you were a chef by any means. “Everything? You’re just trying to be sweet on me.”
The corner of his mouth curled up. “Maybe… is it working?”
The sound of the food crackling from a drizzle of oil filled the kitchen for a beat, and you stared at the wilting greens before you, unable to bring yourself to look at him. “Yeah, I think it’s working…”
There was another pause in conversation, this one less stifling than before. This time, Shouto broke the ice. “Even though we’re busy people, we always have a date every Friday… It’s the highlight of my week.” His voice sounded gloomier than just a moment ago, but when you chanced a look over at him, he was smiling slightly, staring at a cabinet and seemingly off in his own memories.
You wondered which memory he was going over particularly, but didn’t want to intrude his recollection, so you focused on stirring the pan instead. Tapping your phone on the counter next to you just to make sure, your eyes flitted over today’s date.
Thursday.
“Tomorrow’s a Friday,” you mentioned, trying to be casual, despite your heartbeat ringing in your ears. It was stupid for you to get anxious that he’d reject you— he was your boyfriend after all. But to you, this was all uncharted territory; foreign waters.
“Tomorrow is a Friday, yeah,” he confirmed, looking down at his book again. “It’ll be a week since you woke up.”
The realization that you’d woken up exactly one week ago—the day that caused the man so much joy and then so much pain— that that day had been on a Friday, your sacred day that was devoted to being spent with each other… it made your heart throb uncomfortably in your chest. You nibbled on the inside of your cheek, shutting off the burner and transferring the food into a serving dish. Bringing it over to the counter and setting it in front of him, you untied the apron and folded it neatly, placing that on the counter too.
“Would you… want to go out with me tomorrow, then?” you proposed smally, opening the drawers before you in search of eating utensils. You frowned when all you were met with was measuring cups and spatulas. “For our Friday date ritual, I mean.”
Shouto stood and crossed the island, opening the drawer behind you and revealing all the silverware and chopsticks. You moved to grab two pairs of chopsticks and he took your wrist gently, large thumb stroking across your skin. His other hand came to brush against the small of your back, but he chose not to grab onto you. “I would love that.”
You shared a smile and a meaningful look.
“Then it’s a date.”
⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆
After the dishes were all washed, you agreed to watch a movie. You had initially wanted to pour over your things again, to see if anything could help your memories come back. But Shouto had suggested the two of you relax on the couch instead, explaining that he was not surprised that you were overworking yourself, but that it was his job to make sure you took care of yourself. He further threatened that if you wouldn’t take care of yourself, then he would have to “take care of you himself”, and that left you flustered more than anything. So you dropped whatever excuse you had prepared to argue back at him and followed him to the living room.
Walking in, you blinked in awe at the spread that Shouto had set up. Numerous candies and snacks are laid out for your convenience across the coffee table. The lights were dimmed and curtains drawn, even a few candles flickering in the shadows and scenting the room with a cool, refreshing aroma. There was a pile of blankets stacked in the center of the sofa, all the decorative pillows pushed into the corners to leave one large space for the two of you to share. It was a little… dare you say it… romantic. You looked over your shoulder at him, shooting him a suspicious glance. He had led you to believe he was “taking care of you”, but it seemed he had ulterior motives, too. Not that you were complaining.
Seating yourself next to the blanket tower, you peeled one off the top before unfolding it, letting the soft fleece tickle your ankles and lay across your lap. Shouto crossed in front of the TV, grabbing two remotes from the basket and coming to sit next to you. There was a respectful amount of space between your legs, and you couldn’t help but frown at the gap. You thought that he would sit right next to you…
It took a little while for you to settle on a movie, all the films from the past five years unknown and novel to you… even if Shouto informed you you had already seen them. He went along with your selection without resistance, opting to grab one of the biscuit snacks on the table before you.
As the movie began, you leaned back against the soft cushions of the couch, not really focusing on the actors on the screen. Your eyes were trained on the television, but your mind was elsewhere, unable to distract yourself with the story. You also noticed that Shouto was sitting stiff as a board next to you, focused on nibbling at his snack. He didn’t attempt any moves at you throughout the first thirty minutes, even after he’d finished with his confection. Slowly you allowed yourself to relax, succumbing to the film and settling into the pillowy sofa.
Shouto detected your newfound relaxation, a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he watched your eyes fix on the main character and her love interest. “I’m going to make some tea. Would you like a cup, love?”
“I’m okay, thanks…” you replied softly, not really hearing him as the love interest was in the middle of their heartfelt confession.
He took a moment alone in the kitchen to calm himself. Even though you had been very receptive to him, he couldn’t help but feel hesitant whenever he touched you. He wanted you to want him; for you to want him to touch you. But he didn’t want to force anything with you, in fear that he’d scare you off or make a bad impression. He didn’t want to be pushy. Even before the accident, his heart still pounded whenever you would smile at him. When you would grab his hand, bring him something because it reminded you of him… when you would moan into his ear at ungodly hours in the night… Now it felt like his heart was in his throat every time you spoke to him, like if he said one word wrong, you’d fly away from him and never look back. It was terrifying.
Shouto shook his head. Sighing to himself, he filled his mug with water and held the ceramic in his hands, steam rising off the surface of the liquid almost instantly as he activated his quirk. He allowed the tea leaves to steep for a moment before he fished them out, steeling his nerves and returning to his spot on the couch. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like you’d scooted over just the tiniest bit, shortening the distance between you two as he took his seat.
Your eyes flicked over to him and caught his gaze on you, inspecting the mug in his hands before giving a curious sniff. “Chamomile?”
He nodded and offered the cup to you, which you took in both hands. “Technically, it’s called Sleepytime Mix. But yes, it has chamomile. Have some, if you want.”
“Ah,” you gave a long inhale and smiled drowsily at the familiar scent. “I don’t wanna drink all your tea. And besides, it’s a little hot for me.”
“Oh,” Shouto said, taking the cup back into his hands. He focused for a second, and then the liquid no longer emitted steam, now a pleasant, warm temperature. “Try it now. Help yourself, please.” He handed the mug back to you, the light from the television flickering across his handsome face.
You blinked at him cutely, taking the mug in your hands again. Your fingers brushed against his in the transfer, and he cleared his throat slightly, skin warmed from your touch. “Wow!” you chimed after a sip, going back for another few gulps before you handed it back to him. “It’s really good. Perfect temp, Sho, thank you.”
Shouto felt his heart skip a beat in his chest, his eyes widening at the name he hadn’t heard in weeks. It sounded so good rolling off your tongue, so right. At his flustered expression, you laughed awkwardly, fingers delving into the blanket and looking away meekly.
“Sorry… I thought that that was probably what you’re used to me calling you, but I can use something else if you like.”
“No,” he said instantly, his hand automatically reaching for yours. He pried it out of the fleecy material, folding his fingers around yours. “I like it. Please call me that, I… I’ve missed hearing it.”
“Alright,” you mumbled, fingers squeezing his for a moment. You kept his gaze for a long pause, and then you duck down, scooching flush against his side and laying your head onto his broad shoulder. It caught him off guard, but after a moment of buffering, he moved, his arm tentatively wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you against his side. The action made your cheeks perhaps as hot as the tea in his mug, but you only settled deeper into his embrace, happy to be in his arms. You fixed the blanket so it covered his long legs, too, settling over the both of you snuggly.
You two stayed like that for the rest of the movie, another forty five minutes or so. Your hand gradually moved to rest on his stomach, his long fingers stroking your spine through your shirt. It was new to you, but it was comfortable— your body recognized his touch and welcomed it, even— years of unknowingly conditioning yourself to receive his affection allowing you to accept his embrace. By the end of the film, you were dozing off, warm and relaxed now more than ever, curled up into Shouto’s side.
Shouto, however, was wide awake, his pulse rushing in his ears at your proximity. It had been a very long month without you, and now here you were, cuddled up with him just like how you used to be every night. He knew you were somewhere in between consciousness and sleep, so he let the entire movie credits roll by before he decided to move you. Still holding his mug, which had been empty for the past half hour— but he didn’t want to risk moving and causing you to pull away— he set it on the side table, carefully maneuvering his wide frame so as to not disturb you.
You whined in protest but did not stir when he curled his arms around you, picking your form up and off the couch. After making sure all the candles were blown out and the lights were turned off, he quietly carried you to your shared room, not bothering to turn on the lights. It was then that he hesitated to make the next move— you were still in your clothes from the day, and he wasn’t sure if you would want him to see your bare body if he took the liberty to rid you of them.
His tongue wandered over the bottom of his teeth as he gazed at you, strewn across the soft blankets that covered your bed. The few beams of moonlight that slithered through the bottom of the blinds fell perfectly onto your face, your lashes casting long shadows onto the duvet and giving you an ethereal glow. He could imagine how your naked skin looked underneath that cute little sweater you donned, your bra strap poking out as if to tease him even more. His eyes slammed shut as he sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth, recognizing the color, and the image of you clad in the matching panties that completed the set suddenly sprung forth in his mind.
Acquainted was an understatement as to how well he knew your body, but the problem was not as simple as physicality— the problem was mental, and it could not be vanquished by anything except time, it seemed. The beautiful brain he loved so dearly was now wiped, void of all the memories the two of you had made and cherished together. Shouto clutched his stomach as he took a seat on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, feeling sick from the forceful whirlwind of emotion that came along with the thoughts that crept up on him in the night. The knowledge that you did not remember him, not even one measly memory of him, upset him more than anything.
He had not realized how much his world had shifted now that he had you. Of course, he loved you and he made great effort to ensure that you knew the extent of his devotion to you. But it wasn’t until you had woken up like this, confused and distraught, mind reverted to just months before he had even met you, that he had come to terms with just how much you meant to him. He knew that he loved you before. But now he knew the pain of being unable to hold you, and be with you— really, even talk to you like he had grown so accustomed to.
It was eating him alive, and tearing him apart.
When you had awoken after such an excruciating, lonely month, he had been overjoyed. Finally, he could be with you again— he could touch you and kiss you, hear your sweet voice, hold your body close to his as you fell asleep, and wake up with you still in his arms, groggy and adorable… except, he couldn’t. Because while you knew who he was… you didn’t, really. You didn’t know him at all. And what hurt the most was that he could see that you were trying… but at the end of the day, he was only a stranger to you. He was not your boyfriend, not anything more, other than a hero that you idolized and had a silly crush on.
At the very least, he found comfort in the knowledge that you found him attractive. Of course, you had revealed to him, albeit once you were deep into your relationship, that you had fantasized about him and fostered a schoolgirlish crush on him when you hadn’t yet been introduced. He remembered laughing at your embarrassed confession, pinching your cheeks and then kissing you through his smile… then, taking you from behind as you bent over the bathroom counter, pressing you against the mirror as he donned his hero suit, savoring your pleading moans for him to fuck you deeper, harder.
His cock twitched in his slacks, blood beginning to travel south as his interest grew for the first time in weeks. He groaned and he grit his teeth, frustrated at himself for even daring to feel desire while you laid asleep next to him, plagued by your wiped memory but sitting there looking like that. Gorgeous and untouchable.
As if his heated gaze had summoned you from your slumber, your eyes opened and you blinked at him, squinting at his silhouette in the dark of the room. Shouto recoiled even though he hadn’t been caught doing anything too suspicious; he was a good distance away from you, but still, you had caught him staring at you like a creep in the shadows.
“Sho?” you mumbled drowsily, a hand coming up to rub at your eyes. You propped your body up on your elbows, your shift stretching flush over your chest.
Shouto nearly moaned at the sight combined with the sound of your sleepy voice uttering his name. It didn't help the situation that was stirring in his pants one bit, only adding water to an oil fire. “Hey,” he replied, clearing his throat. “You fell asleep, so I brought you to bed.. Did you want to clean up before we go to sleep?”
You sighed, rolling over as you roused yourself from sleep. “Not really…,” you chuckled, and Shouto felt his chest tighten at the premise of having to get into bed with you with his problem at hand. “But I’ll be a responsible adult,” you finished, rolling out of bed and padding over to the bathroom.
He glanced over at you in the mirror as you brushed your teeth, the cat curling around his ankle and taking his attention away from you. Giving the animal a scratch underneath her chin, he tried to focus on calming himself, closing his eyes and controlling his breathing. Even though this wasn’t at all like how it had been before, it was still better than being alone. Your presence, the sound of you tidying yourself up in the nearby vicinity, took the month-long weight of loneliness off of his chest. It still stung, it still hurt— but at the very least, you were here. You were alive, and you were here with him.
It was you calling out for him that interrupted his train of thought, and when he looked toward your voice, he found you peeking around the doorframe, your hair pushed back and your face glistening with moisture from your nightly routine. “Aren’t you going to wash up, too? There’s two sinks in here, y’know,” you stated matter-of-factly, as if he didn’t know the layout of his own home.
But Shouto only smiled at you and nodded, leaving the cat and accepting your invitation for him to join you in your bedtime ritual. The situation in his pants had since relaxed, thankfully, so he didn’t have to worry as he took his place adjacent to you at the sink counter. Squeezing toothpaste onto the bristles of his toothbrush, and watching you put on your moisturizer in his peripheral, it felt almost as if nothing had changed. For the first time in a long time, he let himself forget about the horrible curveball that life had thrown at him, instead choosing to stare at you as you picked up the cat at your feet, and placed a sweet kiss on the top of its head as you cradled it in your arms.
You padded out of the bathroom first, opting to close the door behind you. After Shouto had finished his routine, he slinked out into the bedroom quietly, surprise flickering in his gaze at the pyjamas you were now dressed in— a pair of soft sleep shorts and an old t-shirt you had stolen from him years ago. He tried not to stare as you crawled into the sheets, the cat taking her perch at the foot of the bed.
The clearing of his throat caught your attention, and he licked his lip as your eyes settled on his. “Is it okay if I sleep without a shirt?” he asked, having to keep himself from smirking as your eyes widened and a flustered expression blossomed on your face. Cute.
“Y-Yeah,” you stuttered after a second of recalibrating, your eyes still trained on his. “The doctors said we should just live out our normal routine, so… whatever we normally do, we should do.” Sliding deeper underneath the comforter, you pretended to look busy as you fiddled with your phone.
Shouto bit his lip and wondered if telling you that your nightly routine of getting naked and passionate between the sheets would do you any good, but he decided against it, not willing to push his luck. Instead, he tore his shirt over his head and pulled down his pants, turning toward the wall so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. He could still feel your gaze on his flesh— he always could, for his skin prickled and the hairs on his body stood up as your eyes roved over every inch of him in appreciation. He didn’t need to see you to know that you were staring.
After he stepped into a long pair of sleep pants, he turned and pretended not to notice your obvious shuffling in a foiled attempt to not be caught looking at him. Carefully he slipped into the sheets on his side of the bed, ensuring not to wander too close to you in order to keep a respectful distance between your bodies… even though he wanted nothing more than to launch himself at you, and wrap his body around yours until neither of you could tell where one of you stopped, and the other started.
There was a long, stuffy silence as the two of you laid there, both of you unsure as to the level of affection you should be displaying at the moment. Shouto was doubtful that you’d want him to hold you like he so desperately desired, and you were hesitant to initiate anything with him laying frozen and a good distance away from you.
“Is this… how we normally sleep?” you wondered aloud, and though you were surprised that the words actually fell from your lips, you were grateful to have broken the rising tension.
Shouto left out a breath he had been holding at that, turning so that he was facing you on his side. “No,” he answered truthfully, his fingers sliding over the cool cotton that separated your bodies, wandering toward you at a snail's pace. “Usually… we like to,” he cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the lump that was situated there, “snuggle.”
In the quiet of the room, he could hear your lips part, a soft breath falling from between them as you processed his response. Your heart was beating faster now, body crying out for his touch, his embrace. “Can we?” you asked so softly that you hadn’t thought he’d heard you, but slowly, surely, he shuffled toward you.
You inhaled as he placed a gentle hand on your waist, pulling your body to slide across the sheets and meet him in the middle of the bed. Lifting your head so he could slip his arm beneath your neck, he brought your face into his neck, arms wrapping tight around your torso. His fingers dug into your side and the hair at the crown of your neck, curling around the tendrils as if he was scared that you would slip out of his grasp at any moment. Pressed up against his bare chest, you could hear the steady, fast thumping of his heart, and the shakiness in each breath he drew in and let out.
It sounded like he was trying not to cry.
Your hand wandered up and under his neck, your elbow angling around the back of his neck so that your fingers could trace the sinews that lined his shoulder blades. Your other arm slung around his back, and although it was just a bit of a reach, you managed to find his silky locks, combing through the ends with your fingers. Daring to push the fragile boundaries that kept you two separate, you threw your leg across his hips, trapping his legs between yours and pressing your body completely flush against his.
Shouto stopped breathing, tears threatening to spill over as he held you so delicately for the first time in what seemed like forever. Similar emotions were flowing through you as well, your body singing at the feeling of being with him, in his embrace. Your heart throbbed at the thought of leaving this man alone for an entire month, with no one to comfort him and calm his worries. No one to hold him and tell him that it was going to be okay, no one to plant kisses across his tear-streaked cheeks and help him forget his pain.
It wasn’t your fault you had been in this accident, that you had forgotten your memories from the past five years. But it wasn’t his, either. The two of you were forced to suffer in different ways, separated by your condition and worlds apart. You wished so desperately that you would just remember already— if not for your sake, then for his. Anything that would make him feel better, anything to ease the ache in his heart.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out quietly, overcome with emotion as you laid in the arms of the man you had once loved. The man you’d been learning to love again. “I’m so sorry I don’t remember you. I want to, I’m trying.” A tear dripped down your face and landed on his chest, sliding down to stain the sheets.
Shouto sucked in a shaky breath at your meager apology, rough fingers running over the back of your neck. “I know you are,” he murmured, and you could feel him swallow thickly as he tried to find the right words. “It’s not your fault, love… You can’t— you can’t blame yourself.” His voice broke at the last syllable, his arms squeezing tighter as he held onto you.
You pressed your face into the junction between his shoulder and his neck, uncaring of your tears that smeared across his skin. “Neither can you,” you sniffled, body clinging to him as best you could. “Please, Shouto, promise me you won’t.”
It was then that he let the tears he had been holding back fall, racing down his cheeks to plop onto the dampening pillow. You held him as he cried, unphased by the sudden outburst of emotion from the man who had shown you so little of himself in the past week.
“I’ll try,” he mumbled into your hair once he had calmed down a bit, lungs still rattling as he tried to suppress his emotions. “For you, I’ll try.”
You leaned back from his chest, his heart seizing up at the tear tracks on your cheeks that were illuminated by the soft moon’s glow. And then, you kissed him. It was simple and sweet, just your lips pressed to his as your thumb swiped across his cheek. But it felt like you were breathing life into him, like he had been starved of oxygen until this very moment.
Both of you gasped when you pulled away, the kiss having lasted as long as you could stand without breaking for breath. Your eyes wandered from his shining ones to his lips, shocked that you had planted such a passionate kiss there just seconds ago. It had worked, though— Shouto was breathing normally and his tears had stopped, dual-colored eyes now staring at you as if you had just given him a purpose to live. You licked your lips, not missing the way his gaze flicked down to watch the action with longing, but he did not act on it.
“We’ll get through this together,” you whispered, hand resting on his sharp jawline. There was not a hint of doubt in your voice, no hesitance nor fear. It was just a fact, simple as that. You let yourself look at his handsome face for a moment longer before you ducked and nuzzled into his chest again, taking your spot as if you had never left.
Shouto exhaled, his fingers trailing down your spine as he closed his eyes, syncing his breathing to yours. The feeling of your body wrapped around his made his bones glow with a missed sense of comfort, his heart fuller than it had been for quite some time. He welcomed sleep to take him, the exhaustion of many long and insomnia-plagued nights from the past month all piling on. Pressing his lips to your forehead as softly as he could, he closed his eyes and murmured one word, wishing with every fiber of his being for you to wake up the next morning and have just one memory of him.
“Together.”
─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───
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...soooooooo idk how this is only part 1, shit’s 11k already 💀 ahh for those of you who made it through, thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed!! there was no smut in this chapter which is so foreign to me, but i’m hoping to improve my story creation skills as part of my 2021 author resolutions... so, let me know what you think! hopefully part 2 will come to fruition soon, but it would probably come faster if i knew people were waiting for it ;)
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#shouto todoroki x reader#shoto todoroki x reader#shouto x reader#todoroki x reader#shouto todoroki angst#shoto todoroki angst#todoroki angst#shouto angst#mha x reader#bnha x reader#mha angst#bnha angst#shouto todoroki fic#shoto todoroki fic#shouto fic#todoroki fic#bnha fic#mha fic#my fics#series: aMTO#shouto todoroki smut#shoto todoroki smut#shoto smut#shouto smut#todoroki smut#bnha smut#mha smut
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Please, Daddy?
NSFW: Smut Loki x Mobius
It begins quite innocuously, things had been tense between them for a while but something was different about this time they could both feel it, settled into their bones.
Mobius dealt with the feeling by knocking his walking pace up a notch or two forcing Loki, despite being the taller of the two, to struggle behind him. He exhaled deeply trying to clear his mind focus on the variant. Don’t get distracted.
“Slow down!” Loki calls forcing Mobius to face him by stopping his stride. Just as Mobius is about to turn to start walking again, Loki pushes him running for the elevator door which is trying to close. Mobius thinks many things, the chief one of them being, that bastard.
Another thing he notices is that Mobius is faster than he looks, and stronger too, Loki thinks as he hears the older man barreling behind him. He throws himself foward in a way that seems almost reckless even to Loki.
And then everything stops.
He feels rather than sees Mobius slam into his trying to restrain his hands behind his back, pressed up against the wall. There is a quiet struggle between them before Mobius gains the upper hand pushing in hard up against the wall, angry with him, Loki realizes. The feeling is exhilarating.
Maybe it was frustration, or rage, or exhaustion or a mixture of three but regardless something in Mobius, made him lean foward his mouth close to Loki’s ear as he stilly firmly presses the other man to the wall. “Gotcha.” He says simply.
“What’re going to do to me?” he asks in a probing voice. Mobius noticed, but brushes it off as Loki trying to be his typical theatrical self.
“What’re you doing to me?” Mobius retorts roughly shaking the younger man a bit to try and shake him out of it.
The door dings closed.
Loki gasps.
Mobius’ mind reels trying to process the two events. Mobius is angry and overwhelmed with the feeling of betrayal, full of rage. He pushes Loki harder, almost too hard, back against the wall. “You like that?” he taunts, voice lower than loki had ever heard it, gruff, strained.
Loki makes a noise deep in his throat, a whine. “Please, Daddy.”
It’s Mobius’s turn to gasp. He leans his forehead against loki’s shoulder blade “What’d you say?” Mobius says in a startling clear voice. Loki panics. He must have miscalculated somewhere.
Loki starts to collapse in on himself, face beet red in embarrassment. Fuck Fuck Fuck, how to get himself out of this one? He goes for the traditional walk back approach. “This is a mindgame isn’t it, leyfeyson? You think you can move me around like your little puppet but i’m not your dog!” he says in a somehow angrier voice than his earlier one. Loki closes his eyes. “S’ not a game.”Loki says quietly. “ I don’t trust you.”
“You don’t have to.” he replies giving the agent pause. “why?” he says, and loki can’t help but smile, mobius’s curiosity was one of loki’s favorite things about him. “Let me turn around, I’ll show you.” “I’ll kill you if you try anything. i mean it.” Mobius threatens. The agent turns slightly before slamming on the red emergency stop button on the elevator, the cart abruptly stopping and a faint red lighting replacing the LEDS turn on. Loki wants to see the older mans face cast in that red light, study it like a dutch oil painting, but instead he waits. “Not having you get away this time. If you try to fuck me over again.” Mobius says in tired explaination, then begins to step back a pace or so to free Loki slightly from his grip. “Alright, show me.”
loki considers all the ways this could go wrong before deciding to as always do it anyway.
He shifts to facing Mobius, and Mobius scans over him quickly, looking for clues like he was trained. His eyes reach Loki’s pants and then he does a slight double take. Loki’s pants look painfully tight and strained on him, tenting up in a way that left nothing to the imagination. Mobius entire jaw goes stiff for a second, the bone perturbing. He is silent for a moment. “This is a trick.” he says finally, because it feels like one in the same way that people don’t leave there brand new cadillacs running with the keys in them because that’s a trick, it’s a set up, plain and easy.
“No tricks, Ive got my collar on, remember?” Loki retorts and Mobius blinks, because it’s true.
Then the world feels like it’s shifting off its axis for the too of them staring back at one another. “Loki-“ Mobius starts in a pleading voice, a desperate one, Loki thinks as a chills runs up his spine.
“You are handsome. You shouldn’t sell yourself short, you know.” Loki adds suddenly making Mobius freeze.
“The grumpy silver fox thing works for you.” he says and the elder scoffs.
He turns back to face Loki, his eyes getting darker and shaded by the moment.
He takes a step closer. There foreheads almost touch.
“Say it again.” Mobius says breathless.
“Say what?” he asks coyly, reaching up to snake his hands through Mobius’s short grey hair.
“You know what!” Mobius replies quietly, equally parts frustrated and embarrassed by his own addition.
Loki reaches out to pull at his tie, yanking the older man forward.
he leans forward and kisses the other in way that could only be described as lewd before pulling away, panting slightly, the god of mischief smiling back at him with swollen lips and a blush on his cheeks.
“Daddy, please.”
The statement stops the other man’s brain for a moment, short circuiting.
Mobius knows what he’s doing, where normal human life spans were a hundred years at best, Mobius had been around for thousands, and he really had been around, learned all the tricks of the trade, studying them with the same intensity with which he studying every detail about Loki.
He moves foward quickly shucking off parts of Loki’s jumpsuit easily. Loki reaches foward and starts to clumsily undo the other man’s dress shirt. Mobius laughs, in a breathless, panting sort of way that drives Loki insane before collecting both hands in his own to kiss them softly. Loki spreads his fingers out flexing, before tentatively popping one in the older man’s mouth. He sucks on loki’s finger for moment before letting go with a wet pop, still holding the hand in question. “Mobius.” he moans and the older man turns to him gaze sharpened to watch him squirm.
“What is it, baby?” he asks softly, gently, in his comforting voice like it’s the most natural thing in the world for him. He presses kisses to Loki’s palm and forearm. “what, my kitten?” he absolutely purrs, and Loki stops breathing. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to come standing right here like this.” he says all at once words flowing into to one another. Mobius groans pressing his face into Loki’s neck before dragging his teeth against the soft expanse of skin there.
“Please, Please, No ones coming. There’s no next stop, you pressed the button it’s just us.” he reasons frantically, and that when he hears it for the first time. It takes him a moment to realize what the sound is and even longer to realize it was coming from Mobius, a low growl, deep, vibrating his whole chest cavity in a way that reverberated off Loki’s.
“I shouldn’t.” he says in a voice the sound unconvinced even to himself
Loki shrugs his shoulders rolling his eyes and then drops to his knees.
Mobius takes a pace back, blinking rapidly. “Oh Jesus Christ.” he lets out as he realizes what’s happening. He feels a hand slide up his torso but does nothing to push it away, it settles at his belt buckle, “Fuck,” he lets out as he feels a finger dip between the waistline of his pants to touch skin underneath. “Loki-Loki- you don’t- you don’t have to do this if -“ Mobius pauses, out of breath, his statement strikes him as ridiculous. Without breaking eye contact with him Loki nuzzles forward ever so gently before mouthing wetly over the crotch of the older man’s freshly pressed slacks. Mobius throws his head back so hard, there’s a slight noise made when it connects to the wall behind him. “Jesus christ,” he pants, “Look at me.” Loki commands and Mobius snaps his head back to face Loki, Loki whose mouthing at his dick, Loki, that’s going to blow him. Mobius groans looking away again. It’s too much. “Be a good boy, do what I say. Look at me.” The world now is spinning at even faster dizzying pace, in circles. All Mobius can do is obey. He looks down and Loki does the unthinkable, he looks up at him with green doe eyes, nuzzling the throbbing dick of the man in front of him, and then extends his arm up again dragging it across Mobius’ torso without breaking eye contact. Mobius latches onto the arm like a lifeline. Both breathing hard, the air of the elevator humid and thick. Mobius rests his arms out against the side railing of the elevator. Maybe there is a heaven he thinks for a few moments as he watches a literal god unzip his pants with shaky hands. He must had done something right was the second thought and then he felt Loki reaching down his boxers and begin to jerk him off and he thought nothing but of Loki and blinding hot pleasure. He bucked as he felt the wet mouth accommodate him, licking up the slides, Loki’s mouth was warm, and he instinctively moved a hand to cradle Loki’s face delicately like glass.
“Perhaps another prince” Slvie had said. She was right. Mobius was so gentle and mannerly with him, almost courtly galant, a prince he should be, Loki thought as Mobius very lightly started to shift his hips into the others face, keeping his hand around the jaw that expanded around his cock. Mobius groaned at the thought if it. His cock in loki’s mouth. Loki stared up at him at him in a way that made him feel like he were the only person in the world. “Don’t you need to stop and breathe for a second or something?” he asks ever concerned about loki’s condition at all times.
Loki answers this by speeding up causing Mobius to hiss reaching with both hands to tangle in Loki’s hair. He pulls and scratches at the scalp appreciatively, almost petting him at times. Loki moans around him and suddenly Mobius’ ears were ringing.
Mobius is properly fucking into his mouth now as he’s figured out that the pleasure Loki gets is far worth the danger to him. Loki wants to be loved, to be claimed, Mobius knew that from studying him, the stories of a second best prince and outcast, craving connection. So he had decided to claim him, to let himself fall into the moment. So he did, digging a hand into Loki’s hair with one arm and cradling the face with the other. “Good boy. Good boy.” he repeats thoroughly debatched and desperate. “Fuck, you’re such a fucking good boy aren’t you? Even though you play words games youre thinking about your lips wrapped around my cock, is that what you like? To be my good boy? To suck my cock, baby?“ Mobius’s voiced is more high pitch now, whiney almost. He groans as he feels Loki slow, and eventually let off with another lewd pop. Mobius panted. His eyes never leaving Loki’s as he watches the man kiss the way back up his chest, “Yes, Daddy.” He said in his ear before turning them around to use the pressure of Loki’s back against the wall to ride him. As Mobius turns to realize what he means for them to do two things happen, one Mobius hauls Loki’s tight little doll body up slightly to line himself up with the younger man’s entrance and the thought that there most definitely was a heaven. He pauses a moment looking into the others face, cast in the red light, concerned, careful of him, “Are you sure?” he breathes out and Loki starts to settle him self lower onto Mobius in response. they both gasp when Loki bottoms out, Mobius growls again shaking both of their chest the vibration comforting to Loki. “I’m gonna fuck your brains out, Leyfeyson, think you can handle that?”he asks gruff. “I’m gonna fuck you so good your legs shake for a week and you’ll be sure I introduced myself as daddy and didn’t give you any other names. All you’ll be able to think is Daddy please,” Loki gasps grasping desperately at Mobius’ head. “The fucking mouth on you, christ, I wished have done this sooner.” Loki says, nose to nose with Mobius as he pounding into the other. Mobius takes advantage of the situation by reaching down a giving a heavy stroke to Loki’s leaking dick. Loki moans, head back, where Mobius places kisses and bites, making him squirm even more, pulling at him. “You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful god you’re so fucking tight you’re such a good boy.” He rambles in Loki’s ear. “Daddy please, Daddy please fuck me harder, fuck me harder- yeah like that just- fuck keep going-“ Loki rambled back, reacting to Mobius switching speeds, pumping the others cock deftly driving him wild. Mobius fucks up into Loki as obediently as in any other task, with a tireless dedication and a chase of pleasure, his mouth is slack open, they’re both close, panting bodies slick with sweat. “make me belong to you.” Loki says brokenly and mobius hips stutter he shifts so that he can go deeper into loki getting lost in where one body began and the next ended “Come on fuck me like you mean it.” Loki teases but secretly still hopes for a reaction out out of the older man, which he gets, Mobius starts snapping his hips in a way that must have taken at least a millennia to perfect. “I mean it” he says licking a stripe down Loki’s neck whining. “I fucking love you - I love you.” Loki gripped at the nape of the other man’s neck. “Say it again, please -“ I love you i love- i love you fucking love you - Christ.” Loki came and when he did He kept riding mobius, “i’m yours make me yours, daddy” Mobius came with a cry tensing for a moment.
and so it all really went back to that phrase, the way he’d moan the word out, almost purring like a cat “Please, Daddy?” And how could mobius ever deny him with such a pretty face like loki’s, humans were meant to worship gods, It was natural, Mobius thought as he looked at Loki’s face, peaceful, relaxed.
#my post#loki x mobius#mobius#agent mobius#loki series#loki series fic#wowki#lokius#loki show#mcu loki#loki laufeyson
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Dragon Heart - IV.
Taglist: @guardianofrivendell @anjhope1 @legolasoftherings @kumqu4t @grunid @elvish-sky @artsywaterlily @alexloveskili
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Warnings/triggers: -
She looked over at Bilbo, who was stirring, and decided it would be a good idea to prepare him a cup of warm tea with some honey and milk. Y/N remembered Bilbo loved this as a child.
So, her next steps took her to the hobbit's kitchen.
Before she stepped inside, Y/N noticed one - perhaps from the older ones - dwarf, who prepared a steaming cup of tea already.
The dwarf didn't seemed to trust her - of course - but his eyes little softened, because she knew Gandalf and Bilbo.
"What tea is that?" Y/N asked instead, genuiely interested.
"Charmomile, for Master Baggins." Y/N hummed and the dwarf quickly left the little hobbit kitchen. You looked around, more concentrated this time. Then, you looked over the hall, pantry, and living room, where was Bilbo, Gandalf and some of the dwarves.
Baggins', now Bilbo's house, has never been un-practical. Maybe for Y/N by it's size, but other than that, there was everything one would need for life.
When Bilbo catched her eyes, Y/N could clearly see he was uncomfortable, upset and absolutely, absolutely done with the subject.
The dwarves.
But most importantly...
Gandalf.
You shrugged, and decided to leave him his burglar-not-burglar game. Bilbo would not be patient forever, but he was mannered and clever enough to know what to do. You were sure the hobbit would feel his Took side with desire for an adventure again.
And take his chance to escape Sackville-Baginses.
As you walked around, you noticed some of the pictures. They seemed to be new - or at least you didn't remembered them.
You walked closer, and stepped on something. You looked down, and noticed it was a dagger. You've never seen the design before, but assumed it must be one of the dwarves'. You picked it up and studied it, when you overheard a voice next to you.
"Careful with this, it's been just sharpened." You turned to see a blonde, blue-eyed dwarf, with braided moustache. He seemed to have the same twinkle in his eyes as Kili.
"I can handle sharp things," Y/N said and looked back at the knife.
"It's nice. Not too light, but not as heavy either." Y/N was thinking aloud. She completely forgot the dwarf next to her, as she studied the dagger.
"You know Master Baggins," He suddenly said. Y/N turned to him.
What the-did he just-
"I do," You nodded, and placed the dagger to his hand.
What the-no, he just didn't-
"You don't look like you are related," he continued.
"That's because we aren't." You ended the topic. Instead, it was your time to ask.
"Who are you?"
"Fili, at your service m'lady," he gently took your hand and kissed the back of your hand, his eyes not leaving yours.
"Y/N, at yours...Fili," You said.
"Oh, Y/N, can I-can I talk to you, for a second?" Bilbo came and you gladly walked aside with him, while Fili send you a wink.
"Bilbo, to answer some of your questions - no, I didn't knew-"
"I'm not talking about the, the dwarves," Bilbo looked over the room with frown on his face.
"Then what is it, my little friend?" You said quietly in attempt to brighten up the situation. Bilbo was almost adorable with frowned pouty face, hands folded on his chest, patting the floor with his foot...only if you could stand straight in his house. Your back thought the size of his house was not adorable at all.
"Well, um...did Gandalf told you to bring them along?" You looked at him with scrunched face, and rolled your eyes.
"I wouldn't be coming if I knew there were dwarves involved. So, if anything, I share your unpopular opinion." And ruffled his hair. He jumped up.
"I'm not a little hobbit anymore, you don't have to do this," Bilbo said through gritted teeth, and you grinned.
"Well, you still are kind of little," You teased him futher, until a dwarf with sharp blue eyes, long, dark hair, and the biggest grumpy and pouty face you've ever seen (not even Bilbo could do that, when he was angy little hobbit).
That dwarf shot you a glare, and also to Bilbo, who was taken aside by him and Gandalf, again.
You felt sorry for Bilbo.
When he was free, you overheard him muttering something about 'surely not going', 'not going anywhere', 'wizards', and so on. You decided to go to sleep, because all of the dwarves were asleep already, and you needed to be up early.
You woken up quickly. The first thing you've heard was the snoring. You scrunched your face, and quickly packed your things. Then, you walked out of Bag End, and decided to wait for them there.
The sunrise was nice time, especially to prepare your horse for the day.
"Shh," you cooed her quietly. It was beautiful mare, tall, and very, very clever.
"It will be okay. We will find dad, and we will go away, to live far away...everything is going to be just fine," You muttered.
"You ready?" Kili stood next to you with a grin on his face. You jumped up a little.
"I am." You said, and noticed Kili's expression as he looked at your horse. You let out a laugh.
"You've never seen a horse before?" Kili walked back a little.
"Not really," he said and you noticed his blushed cheeks.
"Kili!" You both looked over to Fili, standing between two ponies, who called him.
-
"Do you think Bilbo will come?" Kili asked you.
"That hobbit won't show up," Balin said. He was on his pony next to Kili, so he thought he talked to him.
"It's no surprise. Why would Master Baggins leave his home," Thorin (as was the grumpy dwarf named) said.
"I wouldn't understimate hobbits, and especially not Master Baggins," Gandalf said as he smoked his pipe.
"I am sure he is going to come," He said.
And that's when the bet started.
-
It wasn't even five minutes after you left Shire, when you overheard Bilbo's voice in the distance.
"Waaait!"
You looked over to Gandalf, who was hiding a laugh.
"You planned this?" You quietly asked and motioned to the hobbit, who was breathing heavily.
"Well, perhaps," he said, and you scoffed a little and shook your head, as the dwarves seated Bilbo on his pony.
-
The day was beautiful. It was actually quite warm, just warm so you could put down your cloak.
As the evening was approaching, and the sun was setting into palette of gold and velvet, and the sky was getting darker, Thorin decided it was time to set up camp. After a quick argument with Gandalf, the wizard left to seek company of himself. So, there was nothing easier, than to just finding the best place to place your bedroll.
You, Fili and Kili were on first watch. You laid down on your bedroll, and watched the stars. It was cloudless night, plus the crackling sound of fire, and smell of fresh night air was relaxing.
Bilbo was just coming back from his pony, when a sound in distance made him freeze.
"W-what was that?" He pointed to the distance, while looking at Kili.
"Orcs," he said in low, deep voice. You sat up. Bilbo had a part of Took in himself, but he was not that much of a Took.
"There is going to be plenty of those," Fili said, and, obviously, Kili continued.
"They come at night, no screams, just lots of blood," He looked at Bilbo, and the shadows in his face, along with his deep and low voice made it come out horribly scary. Him and Fili started chuckling, but you sighed.
"The way you two snore would make them run for hills, so I wouldn't be that worried," You said, and noticed Bilbo to relax by the corner of your eye.
Kili looked over at you. You pulled out book from your pack. He quickly recognized it, even in the darkness of the night. It was that book you flipped through back in Bag End.
You sat comfortably down, and looked over the illustrations on the pages, and softly touched them.
"What is the book you are reading about, lassie?" Balin asked. You didn't looked up.
"It's a book with tales and stories my...father wrote down," you answered.
"He used to read them to me," you shrugged.
"Would you read some of them-ow, what was that for?!" Kili whisper-yelled at his brother, who chuckled.
"You're a child, Kee," He muttered to himself, and Kili pouted. But Fili was curious as well, which Kili didn't needed to know.
"Well...this one," You flipped a few pages futher.
"This one is called Strange thief and the stars," Y/N comfortably sat and started reading.
"There was once a man. He wasn't very known by name, but by his eyes. His eyes, deep and dark, with sparkles, reminding of stars. Nobody has ever seen eyes like this before, and people were whispering he has stars themselves in his eyes," You slid the tips of your fingers over the drawing, remembering the precision your father has made into repairing them.
"Many women tried to grab his attention, but anytime they didn't sucsceeded, the sparks in their eyes were less visible, but in his as well. And that is why men has decided to call him 'the thief of stars', or a 'strange thief of stars'. He was wandering through the lands, until he found what, as he realized, was looking for,"
"What happened next?" Bilbo asked.
"That girl didn't want to talk to him. She was very kind and caring, but not naive. One day, however, she found a dragon. Big dragon, who seemed scary, but saved her from orcs. The beast's eyes reminded her of someone, yet she didn't knew of whom." You realized everyone was quiet, listening to you, as you spoken.
"The next day, she met the man. He runned into her, in a rush, in a fear - and asked her "Did you see the dragon too?". The young maiden nodded, and helped him to get to safety, as he was very nervous and scared. Since that day, they became closer and closer. One day, when a few years passed, her father - an old, wise and kind man - said, his daughter will marry someone, who gives her something very special. The young man came the next day in their house they lived in. He said," you flipped the page.
" 'I do not have much to offer - gold, silver, or gems - but I do have this," he took out a notebook out of his coat, and offered it. The girl's father took the notebook, and opened it. It was full of drawings of flowers, animals and people - but mainly of one special maiden, when she was laughing, collecting flowers, brushing her hair, cooking, reading...When she came there, and looked throught the book, her father looked at her, and she nodded. So, he looked deeply into the young man's eyes, and said 'She chose you.' "
You finished the story, and Kili giggled at how interested his brother was.
"Now who's the child here,"
#the hobbit#kili#fili#kili x reader#thorin#kili durin#fanfiction#fili x reader#bilbo#bilbo baggins#bilbo x reader#the company#the company x reader#thorin x reader
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It’s wind anon! (Imagine me as the screeching seagull meme) just pushing through the week. Getting the test out of my mind—it just sucks because there’s always this one test that I completely mess up on—and as someone who has to deal with all honors classes and my grades tend to be good, every time I fail to meet up to expectations my stress skyrockets. (Imagine a world where grades don’t matter and school is learning based rather than mark based...) Family pressures too—okay, wind anon is done ranting.
The update! The drama—I was there the moment it updated and I saw the comments rush in and I was laughing real hard.
But my reaction to the update!
Osamu POV :0!!! The insecurity... “all it did was remind him that he was alone”— I empathize because gosh, that is so real.
The attachment to Meiko though... his emotional state is on a very unstable tightrope. “Osamu had Meiko and he used to have Daichi and Iwaizumi...” that entire section has all my red flags raised. He’s going to completely break when everything comes out.
The loud clang startled me though. I was like “!!!” But it was our YN! Our kind, wonderful YN!! Trying to get snacks wwwwww.
Osamu thinking YN is cute :0 I be having a lot of thoughts about that but him squishing it down is fair. He considers himself to be in a committed relationship (though Meiko does not reciprocate and I am ready to fight regarding that) but I can respect his devotion (even if it is very misguided).
But. “After all, you were the reason Atsumu hated him now and never spoke to him anymore.” My gosh. What do I even say about this? Because the blame is entirely thrown off. I mean, you mentioned before Atsumu had a specific reason for believing in you over Meiko so I’m still waiting for that but Osamu is thinking something wrong but it’s a human action. It’s so easy to blame people to make yourself feel better. And your brain can do it without you realizing the depths of what has been thought.
Osamu being angry (!!!) and being a complete utter douche. YN literally just wanted a bag of chips and you’re here, crowding them in the pantry and being hostile. I don’t have much to say about it because he realized his mistake but by then he already stressed YN really badly and I am...(long sigh).
Atsumu to the rescue. We appreciate Atsumu very very much in this house. It really sucks that Osamu and Atsumu are confronting like this—I mean, Atsumu has been fighting a bit and Osamu had not really been listening to Atsumu on his own end prior to this confrontation so I’m...exhausted and a bit sad in the “It can’t be helped” kind of way.
“Osamu allowed him to, too in shock and ashamed to protest, much less fight back.” It couldn’t be helped considering how everything developed but...it still hurts my chest a bit, y’know? And then Osamu tries to apologize and I’m ready (so so ready) for them to communicate because they desperately need to—
But then Meiko comes in (I am...ready to throw stuff at her. Lots of stuff. Packing peanuts. All squeaky and annoying and bad for the environment just like she is—or something like that, I dunno, I’m half dead because I’m dealing with cramps rn) and all my wishes for them to finally have that much needed conversation where Osamu can finally break down and cry—all my wishes are turned to ash like.
(Angry Wind anon noises)
Meiko rubbing her makeup all over Osamu’s shirt like he is a rag. What in the... And her 4 inch heels please, I cannot, why, I can’t deal with this, I can’t, don’t make me get close to her because I’m like Yachi (stressed out of my mind). Please don’t do this to me. But yeah, Meiko with her poor makeup that doesn’t stay on her face. What the heck....
And Meiko’s scent... gross. Like, brown sugar, cute, nice, baked goods do smell really nice, (ever add a bunch of vanilla extract to a recipe? It like, perfumes around everywhere, it’s insane and wonderful) but chances are (because it’s Meiko), it’s overbearingly sweet. Chinese food (I do not trust her taste in Chinese food to be frank), I happen to come from a Chinese family, I have Chinese food for dinner like everyday, it would take a lot to be able to get that sort of scent on you. And I do mean a lot. And hairspray??? Chemical? I do not,,, I,,, Osamu, why would you breathe that in? It’s gonna be real bad for your lungs? And we already know Meiko smokes as well—your lung health, please value it—
And then the Suna entrance. Wonderfully done fr0ggy!
Final thoughts, I am very much projecting onto Yachi rn. Yachi has been in the house for less than a week and she already has to deal with this. The company should give her a raise. My gosh.
Anyway, might as well do a thoughts/headcanon thing because it’s been a while and my mind is still on gem/jewel stuff (so hope you don’t mind!)
Okay, so Kenma I think would go with a warm colored gemstone, and citrine would work well with him! “Protection against evil thoughts” because we know Meiko has ramped up is insecurity and lowered his self-esteem.
I mentioned this before last time but Sakusa is definitely onyx. That black is iconic, and “sharpening wit” would make sense with his grace for word play and snark.
Akaashi is an interesting one...I think sapphire. I mean, sapphire can have many colors besides the classic dark blue, so that’s one thing, but it’s known for “loyalty and a pledge of trust” which Akaashi gave. I think it’s suitable for him.
Suga...initially I was thinking pearl would match him in terms of appearance, but actually looking at my reference, turquoise would work really really well with him. “Protect from evil, maintain virtue, bring good luck”. Would work well.
For Atsumu and Osamu I wanted something that could represent their duality. My first thought was gold and silver. I mean, it’d fit in terms of appearance but I’m not sure that would be the best comparison. Gold doesn’t rust so it fits Atsumu who never fell for Meiko’s tricks. Silver has been said to vanquish dark/evil beings (vampires, werewolves, the classic silver bullets and stakes). It would be interesting to see if the comparison will apply to today’s update :D!
I like how my brain shut off and couldn’t remember anyone else for a second—anyway, Oikawa... every time I think of him, I want some hue of blue wwww. I guess Aquamarine “soothing influence” would work. Since he joined YN’s side, he has been able to see the big picture and be a voice of reason. He’s thoughtful and I think aquamarine which encourages long relationships is suitable because that is what he wanted. So yes, aquamarine.
Bokuto...is a tough one. I’m trying to still keep with their color schemes a bit. I think carnelian would work. “Health, luck, bold energy, warmth, joy”—it would represent him fine. It’s a bit more orange than I would prefer but it suits him so I think it’s okay.
Iwaizumi... emerald? I mean, he does suit green tones, and “rebirth, regeneration, new hope” would work just fine for him.
Right now my brain is complete mush and I can’t think of anything for Kuroo and Daichi. Like, Kuroo would be red, sure, but the more famous ruby/garnet I think don’t represent him fully because he is still rather contained. Hmm, would need to think about them more.
But I’d like your thoughts on this too :D!!
I wanna do something suitable for all colors for YN, so opal! YN has many different parts and colors and is overall a very vivid person—if you tilt opal, you see more and more faces and things underneath being brought into your eyes. YN may be seen from many different perspectives, but YN is always beautiful and amazing. So opal is what I think YN would be.
Anyway, I’ll end here :D! Need to eat lunch. Much love towards you fr0ggy! Make sure you eat and rest up too~ drink some water or any other fluid to hydrate! And keep warm too. Much love to all the fans and supporters and ask senders too! It’s really awesome seeing and hearing from all of you and seeing new faces with the old. Love the excitement and points you all bring up—makes my brain happy.
MAJDKD I NEED TO POST THE NEW CHAPTER BUT I HAD TO RESPOND TO THIS FIRST BESTIE ILY N I LOVE TUIS — I AM OBSESSED W THE CRYSTAL (??) STUFF??? IVE NEVER UNDERSTOOD IT BUT I THINK YOIVE EXPLAINED EACH GEM N WHY SO BEAUTIFULLY I AM IN LOVE W U KITH KITH UR SO LOVELY HAVE AN AMAZING DAY (sending u good vibes n anti-stress love >333)
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Long time no see bread. It is I, again, the one who is always watching and hungry : SOVIPER ANON
*EVIL LAUGH*
Can I have, maybe, just asking, only if you want to, some arguing with a cute end? Maybe my couple being really passive-agressive but loving each other in the end...
And if you keep writing this amazing stuff, I'LL BE BACK
*EVIL LAUGH* *SMOKE* *SOVIPER ANON OUT*
[ sova x viper IV ]
✎↷: AHHH ITS TEAM ROCKET
well you know if you put it this way, i can’t really say no! let me just say, soviper anon, when i got the request about if i had any soviper content, i snorted to myself and thought of you. yeah! you’re that special, friend! anwyays, enjoy the ship content! didn’t reread this one over tooo much since i had it packed away for a few days now :D
As Viper watches Sova’s blonde hair whip down the hallway in a flurry of stomps and muttered curses, she knows she’s done something wrong.
Well— it wasn’t wrong in her eyes. All she had done was suggest that his owl could be improved by lacing his tracking dart with poison. It was more lethal, wasn’t it? If he could subdue someone while they worked, they’d get stacks of progress done instead of needing to beat around the bush.
Somehow, her partner has gotten offended by it. She already knows that his inventions are held dear to him, given his own cybernetic eye, but what’s the harm in an idea for improvement? He told her it ‘wasn’t that simple’ and ‘not everything needed to be a nuclear weapon’, and Viper brushed him off. It’s dumb and petty to her, so she doesn’t see the need to stop the Russian when he runs away. It’s not her fault that he’s upset.
The guilt welcomes itself into her mind when Sova doesn’t show up to dinner that night. She’s brooded on her own for nearly the whole day, taut and put at her wit’s end as she reevaluated their conversation over and over again. Viper was now stationed in the living room with Reyna, her plate of food pulled into her lap. There wasn’t much chatter between them beside the idle remark, but Viper couldn’t ignore the deep stare that the Mexican was giving the American, as if she was being observed. It frustrated her.
When it eventually got to be too annoying for Viper, her head snapped up, eyes venomous. “What are you looking at?” She gruffed, tone harsh ended and sharp.
Reyna didn’t even flinch. “Someone is upset today. What’s the matter, serpentine?”
Viper placed her dinner down, stomach twisted into sour knots. She did not need the woman pressing on her, especially when Sova was still MIA.
“What could you possibly get out of hearing it? Some reassurance that at least one of us has a life?”
Chuckling, the purple haired woman disbelievingly shook her head and ran a clawed hand through her mane. Reyna was always painfully— and obnoxiously— smug about the amusement she got out of seeing Viper’s frustrations.
However, it doesn’t take much for Reyna to continue, thoroughly entertained by Viper’s ruffled feathers. “Ay, nono, hermanita. Nothing like that,” she grinned, leaning forward with a hand beneath her chin. “The owl is not here today, is he?”
The tense of Viper’s hands answer the question for her.
Her gaze sharpens, and Reyna resembles a predator ready to prey. “Trouble in paradise, I see.”
This is more than what Viper will ever come to handle, but she’d be damned if she admitted that Sova’s peaceful ways have begun to rub off on her.
(He would be delighted to hear that. It’s not everyday where you turn a war criminal into a slightly safer, more peaceful murderer.)
“It’s none of your business,” she grumbled instead, stubbornly chewing on a forkful of lettuce. Reyna is pleased with this reaction, if her tittering beside the woman is any indication.
“I should express empathy for the others in our little group, don’t I? This includes the boy of yours.” Slipping from her seat, Reyna rises to refill her glass of water. She knows Viper is listening to her because of the vehement stare that bores itself into the back of her head, lasering through the flesh.
When Reyna turns around to face Viper again, the American is already rising out of her seat and making a beeline for the exit of the living room. It’s laughable at how on edge this woman is at a pointlessly minuscule conversation, but she’s trying her best and her ‘stabilizer’ isn’t there, so someone help her.
“You are yet to talk to him, no? I have heard that apologies are useful in situations like these— unless you plan on lurking around like a measly rat.”
Viper doesn’t take these words well, scowling at the doorway with her face pulling into a frown. “You don’t know him like I do. I would suggest that you’d stay out of it, vampire.”
Reyna sleazed over the countertop, a smug expression on her face. “Oh, but I do? Sabine, you must learn with the softer ones. Sage may play hard to get with me, but it does not mean she avoids me. You on the other hand..”
At this point, she’s heard enough and she flees the living room for a quieter, emptier space. On a normal day, it’s not difficult to block out Reyna’s charms and her games. They both know this. And yet she finds herself bothered, flames of guilt licking up the insides of her stomach as she comes to stop in front of the very doors that she’s been dreading the most.
She needs to start somewhere. Somewhere is... here.
Her knuckles rap against the door, and the scientist paced up and down the hallway while she waits like the maniac she is. In fact, she’s so caught up in it that she doesn’t realize when the door opens with her lover’s head peeking out of it.
Sova doesn’t look too tired, in her observation. His skin retains brightness, and his hair is still fluffy and thick. He looks fine, in all regards, but she knows he’s not. It never is.
“Hi,” she musters after a moment of silence. Sova gets this look of conflict, and before she’s able to say any more, he sighs and opens the door wider, granting her entree.
Sova’s room is something she’s well acquainted with by this point, but she doesn’t have the courage to sit down and make herself at home like the other times. Viper stands numbly in the middle of the room, observing Sova go about his life.
Abruptly, he clears his throat, which may have scared her out of her skin if she wasn’t caught up in the storm that was her mind. Right, she was here for a reason.
“I am... sorry.” Viper admits slowly, arms closing in over her chest. “I didn't mean to upset you, owl. I am unsure of where I messed up, but I hope you know that I take full accountability for it. Whatever it may be.”
Her head dips sincerely, and while it feels wrong to speak in such a vulnerable way, Sova looks ecstatic. His eyes widen like he hadn’t expected that and seriously, who would when it comes to the untouchable Viper? She was called that for a reason.
The Russian engulfs the smaller American woman, and Viper’s clearly put off if not surprised by the physical contact. An apology doesn’t typically incite or encourage affection, according to her observations. Normally, emotions boil and spark at the very sight of one, but Sova defies her standards by the simple way his fingers tenderly held onto the sides of her hips. How expected of him.
“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” he mumbles, but Viper gives him a pointed look and the man concedes. Sova looks softer than ever like this, and what it does to these.. stirring emotions in her chest, she isn’t fully sure.
Viper’s thumb presses along Sova’s collarbone. “Then what was it, Sova?”
He goes quiet, either savoring the embrace or thinking about what he was going to say next. It happened to be both.
“I don’t want a mean bird.”
She blinks. Once, then twice.
“..what?”
Sova shies away, his face pinker when he speaks up. “The owl. It means a lot to me. I wouldn’t.. want to see it be used to torment people so much. It’s meant to be cute.”
The last part goes mumbled, and because she’s so close to him, she can make out each and every word. She shouldn’t be rendered speechless by something so.. pathetically and adorably childish, but that’s exactly what ends up happening.
“You’re telling me that you got mad,” she makes a gesture with her hands, tone raising. “just because it’s cute? Really?”
He frowned deeply, like he had a plenty reasonable excuse. “Is that so wrong?”
Viper wants to bite at him and pull her hair out. This built up stress, tension, the boiling, all of it for this little reason. She’s close to blowing her top off when she distinctly remembers that this, although minimal to her, was why she fell for Sova in the first place. How dare her heart betray her in the name of science and humanity? She was disgusted...
...and more cuddly than usual, with her head burrowing itself into the crook of his neck. Sova is still pouty, though he indulges her with a light pat to her back and a chuckle. Viper can’t believe she was tortured the whole day just for this.
“You felt tortured?”
Shit. She didn’t mean to say that out loud.
“..no. It was an exaggeration, owl, think nothing of it.”
A wide smile stretches across his face, giddy and warm and everything that Viper needs to relax. He leans in, placing a kiss against the crease of her hair.
“It’s okay, Sabine! I felt the same way. It’s hard to go about without seeing you by my side.”
“Oh, be quiet.”
#valorant#valorant scenarios#soviper#valorant Sova#valorant viper#sova#viper#flm#this took two days#valorant reyna#Reyna#little bitch Reyna
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Time to see how I do my story! thank you for the tag @herpixels !
1: YOUR WRITING PROCESS
my writing process is set up in 2 parts, the first one is a general summary of my story, there I write out the storyline, I have act one completely mapped out. the interlude and act two aren’t written out in detail yet, but I know the big events and how they start and end. the second part is i write a list of all my upcoming scenes, with a sentence to describe a direction the scene. The scenes are then expanded on when I get near to working on them, written out screenplay style with numbers indicating what photo they correlate to.
2: SCENE BUILDING
i love scene building! i build most of my own sets, since my story is set in new york city i have several city street builds! my biggest one is where tons of scenes are set, my notably it’s where judah’s apartment is
it’s unfinished as i only try to do what will show up in scenes to save me time. building my own sets definitely helps set the vibes, and with specific locations like the train stations, but it’s the most time consuming step on here for sure.
3: CC/POSE MAKING
i’ve made a couple poses! only if I really need to, i am a beginner pose makers, i’m hoping to get better. i’ve made poses in these posts!
4: GETTING IN THE ZONE
music is without a doubt, one of the most important aspects of my story. i was really inspired by how daniparadise’s des vu had a soundtrack and decided to do the same thing. while not necessary to read my story, you can follow along with the songs linked here! on spotify though I have the story soundtrack fully mapped out.
5: SCREENSHOT FOLDER
taking photos is probably my least favorite part of the process, since I know ahead of time how many photos i need to take, i don’t do more than i need to. for my last post which needed 11 photos, i took 53
6: CAPTIONS
i am a firm lover of captions on the photos! i think it’s an easier/best way to read sims stories. i also really like the opportunties it presents, some of my favorite posts have been judah’s monologues and fantasies, which is brought out best in the captions
7: EDITING
editing is my favorite part of the process! i love trying new things and switching up editing and colors in scenes, my last post had the most drastic editing ive ever done, simply cause the original photos were taken at 8pm in game with no outdoor lighting or sunlight.. it was a real struggle getting them visible. i mostly do adjustment layers of brightness, curves, and gradient maps. followed by sharpening/blurring, then shadows, blobs of light and the liquify tool on sharp edges on the sims.
8: THROWBACK
my story started completely different! when I came back in july i completely redid the first few posts cause I didn’t think they set up the story well. initially it started with a phone call between judah and his sister amalie, i really just wanted to get the ball rolling at the time so it didn’t have much significance, and it didn’t set up judah’s character accurately. my story still doesn’t have the punchiest beginning but it’s wayyyy better now,
9: FREE SPACE
creating a story has definitely been a big learning experience, the thing ive struggled with the most is not being able to get exactly what i want through sims based on whats in my head. ’m trying to resist all urges to rush even though i have so much ahead of me! there’s also been lots of things i’d want to write/add in but probably won’t for the sake of keeping the story not a downer/potentially triggering. i will say, sims storytelling is not the easiest way to present a story, but i really love how it combines visual and written storytelling.
I tag any storyteller who wants to do this!!! but also @solunasimmer @zombietrait if you two want to!!!
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Would you ever write uhhhhh Wrath!Riza AU?
your brain, anon. i like it
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aqua regia (for destruction, ice) // AO3
Not all that burns is fire.
(Or: Riza becomes Wrath.)
-
i.
In another world Riza Hawkeye might have asked the Flame Alchemist to burn away the circle on her back, might have looked at those scars in the mirror and pretended they could lift any of the weight from her shoulders.
In this world that is the least dangerous of everything Wrath carries: a stone at her core red as her eye behind the rifle scope, as hands complicit in plans to burn up this country tearing the heavens from their sky.
She cannot walk away from death as easily as Lust or Envy can, but when the elixir had slid into her veins Riza had burned from the inside and Wrath had walked away with that fire still in her veins, always searing beneath skin that she doubts mortal flame can scar.
(“Now hold still, dear girl,” the scientist had said, gold tooth gleaming dull in lab-light, “it’ll hurt worse if you struggle,” and Riza had remembered Berthold Hawkeye saying the same thing to Wrath at ten and fifteen and eighteen, red on her skin red underneath red burning its way into her heart, and it had been a lie then too.)
.
ii.
Wrath is angry at everyone and everything at once; furious at the ones who had found a cadet with steady hands and steadier soul and saw fit to unmake that, at herself, at those who knew how blood-drenched this country was and kept painting it anyway. The first time she had seen Roy Mustang again she would have snapped his neck clean in half if not for the knowledge of how valuable State Alchemists were in the chessboard of this country.
(That, and her own distaste for the heat of blood over her own hands. Riza has heard enough from Father and the other homunculi to surmise that the previous incarnations of Wrath had loved blood like the edge of a blade freshly sharpened on diamond.
But she is a sniper – the best markswoman Amestris has ever seen, even before they gave her an eye that could see through anything. Why else would they have chosen her?)
She is the Hawk’s Eye, the Fury of Ishval, hell and its woman scorned all in one, and she makes it known in constellations of bullets and impossible shots, precise and deadly as any alchemist’s array.
Riza had been angry too, when she had let herself be, but hers is a cold ire, locked beneath glaciers and the burn of frostbite.
Wrath makes no such pretences. Wrath answers to a dead woman’s name, and Officer – Lieutenant – Major Hawkeye holds her anger boiling right under the surface, scalds her hands in it and fires the next shot.
.
iii.
Roy Mustang holds her at a careful arm’s length.
It might’ve been offensive if it weren’t so ironic. He of all humans should know what it means to hold flame in your hands: let one weakness slip and fire would burn it right through like so much dry grass.
Then again, maybe it’s that same familiarity that breeds wariness. Riza would hardly know. Fury is not the absence of fear, but in her case it’s fairly close anyway.
Either way, it’s the same distance that prevents Mustang from recognising Wrath’s work in doctoring the Elric brothers’ documents a whole two decades older.
He decides to take Havoc with him, citing something about the persuasion of fellow Easterners; Riza remains in East Command and doesn’t wonder how he will react to finding out that the alchemists he is looking to enlist as human weapons are just barely a third his age.
Not even half of hers, unless you counted the several years since she had become Wrath.
Company for you, Riza thinks none too quietly, and Wrath bristles, shoving her away to wrest back control.
(Riza lets her. This is exactly the duty she’d been assigned – locating potential sacrifices among the State Alchemists and beyond, so there’s not even any insubordination for Wrath to report, even if she won’t realise until much later how spot on she’d been to find one who’d already been through the Gate.
For now she listens to the Flame Alchemist’s empty-handed return from Resembool, hears him say with seemingly unwarranted certainty I saw the fire in his eyes, and this time she does wonder how he can notice that yet miss the same thing in hers.
Riza knows what she sees in the mirror, after all, even if she always has one eye hidden behind a false lens and swept fringe.)
.
iv.
Wrath, unsurprisingly, finds the Fullmetal Alchemist an absolute riot.
Eight pints of unrefined rage wrapped in red with the volume cranked up to fifty percent past maximum, and if you had asked anyone at all to name one person in this room who might be the personification of fury itself – well.
Edward Elric gets angry in a way that neither of them know how to be. Riza runs cold where Wrath veers hot, but it’s always controlled, the reins another line in the delicate balance between them; in contrast Edward is an explosion, angry and incandescent with it, and sometimes Riza almost wishes they were like that too.
(No you don’t, Wrath mutters over the scratch of a pen.
Riza blinks and sighs, blacking out a line of expletives about Hakuro and the latest shitshow he’d thrown at them; homunculi weren’t much for paperwork. It’d make some things easier, you have to admit. He gets things done.
Like getting himself nearly killed three separate times in a week, ooh, aren’t you supposed to be babysitting the sacrifices, Wrath? I’d like to see them doing it–
Riza doesn’t sigh again, but it’s close.)
Neither of them feel particularly bad about keeping silent over the Elrics’ search when she’s sitting right here, but on Riza’s part it’s mostly because she’s seen enough to be certain that Edward at least would never use a Philosopher’s Stone if he learned what had gone into its making.
Wrath is just looking forward to the day he does find out. Now that’ll be something to watch.
.
v.
She meets Greed walking down a hallway one afternoon, nodding cordially at the flurry of salutes as he passes each of his people.
Wrath doesn’t miss a beat with her own salute. “Your Excellency.”
“At ease, Major,” the Fuhrer replies with a wave of his hand, but he slows down anyway. “I hear young Elric has made some – acquaintances, shall we say, from Xing with exceptional sensing capabilities. He does collect the most interesting people. I’m impressed.”
“Fullmetal doesn’t take kindly to being called young, sir,” Riza says. “I did hear the same, but I haven’t had the chance of meeting them yet.”
(Not for the first time, she wonders why they had thought it a good idea to put Amestris and all that it represents in Greed’s hands. If humans are possessions to be had, what stopped him from deciding that he’d rather keep it all for himself in the end?)
The Fuhrer smiles, benign as any lethal poison. “Let me know if you’d like some time back in the East, I’m sure your grandfather would enjoy a visit too.”
“I have my duties here, and I’m afraid I’m not much of a chess player. It would only bore General Grumman.”
Wrath’s hands do not tense at her sides, but only because they’re both too disciplined for that. Her aim is every bit as true as his swords, and she might not be able to die and walk away unscathed but neither can Greed; how dare he, Riza thinks.
How dare he, Wrath seethes in agreement, and perhaps it’s time to let some things slip to the Elrics after all.
(She is angry at them, for taking this entire plan one-and-a-half steps closer to fruition, but Riza is angry at everyone; this is just par for the course.
The difference is that she is even angrier for them. Riza barely remembers her mother, and if Berthold had still been alive Wrath would have killed him anyway, so she cannot honestly say that she understands the Elrics in that regard.
But Edward rages at the universe demanding equivalency from it while Alphonse aims cuttingly sharp remarks and wonders about his humanity in the next breath. They would be furious if they knew, anger burning hot and frigid cold, and she is Wrath and Riza Hawkeye and both and neither – this, she understands.)
.
.
+1.
“There was something I’d wanted to ask of you, after Ishval, if – things had been different,” Mustang finishes blindly in more ways than the literal, and it’s irritating what a production he can make out of not saying if I hadn’t mistrusted you.
Riza’s fringe is properly out of her eyes for the first time in years, not that he can see it, and she’d walked away from the Promised Day essentially unscathed but the Philosopher’s Stone is gone now along with Wrath; if she did ask the Flame Alchemist to burn away the circle after regaining his eyesight it would even scar over properly.
She won’t. She knows she won’t.
Wrath had known it too. Riza still hasn’t quite parsed the jumbled impressions of those last moments, but above all of it there had been mirth. Amusement, because they had both looked at Riza’s soul unfolding around them and recognised the anger there that was hers. Had always been, only shut away and sunk deep in ice.
If she has any fire in her veins now it is only proverbial, but she is still the Hawk’s Eye, the Fury of Ishval, and there’s more than enough left to burn the next person who tries to lay hands on her.
She looks at Roy Mustang now and continues to not snap his neck because he might be the best hope for this sorry excuse of a country, and anyway if she strangled an injured man in his hospital bed Wrath would laugh at her from another plane and say told you so, he had it coming.
“I’d rather you continue not asking it, Colonel,” Riza says, controlled as ever, but the anger is her own and she relishes the cold-hot burn of it. “I was Wrath, sir, consider yourself lucky that I didn’t let my finger slip on the trigger anytime during Ishval.”
Mustang winces, like he’d managed to avoid consciously putting it together until this point. “I suppose that, ah, rather answers it anyway. So that’s a no to supporting my bid for presidency?”
“That depends on your plans. Which you can tell me about after I’ve returned from my month’s worth of personal leave,” she adds pointedly, and turns to go instead of adding that Greed’s not exactly a high bar to beat anyway. “Have a speedy recovery, sir. Good day.”
Mustang’s expression as the door closes suggests that he’s actually okay with having a second-in-command that has been angry at him for years, and she’s… not sure what to do with that, really, but maybe she can work with it. Maybe.
(Fury is not the absence of fear, nor a dearth of kindness; the Elrics are proof enough of that. Riza knows what she saw in the mirror this morning, familiar and foreign all at once, and she’ll just have to figure out the rest from there.
Perhaps she’ll drop by Resembool and stay for a bit. She’s not angry at anyone there, not anymore – it might be a nice change of pace for once.)
.
.
.
EDIT: NOW WITH ART FROM ART
(more fics here)
oh boy. this was literally stream of consciousness on my part with even less planning than usual, impossible as that sounds – all i knew i wanted was for wrath!riza to be much more like greed!ling than wrath!bradley, because otherwise what would be the point.
but then even as i was writing i realised how many people riza would have reason to be angry at, justified or otherwise: roy for the whole flame alchemy thing, the elrics for getting into this mess, even grumman for leaving her with berthold if he’d even suspected what was going on (and for the record, wrath would 100% killed berthold on riza’s behalf if he hadn’t already been dead)
and then i dithered on how to finish this (and indeed whether to finish it at all, i was tempted to throw hands after the second to third sections) but then my three brain cells summarily went GIVE RIZA HAWKEYE AGENCY GIVE IT BACK TO HER and fuck yeah i agreed. so here we are. in this verse roy never asks her the whole “guard my back but also shoot me if i go wrong” thing, because it’d just be… utterly ridiculous, in context, and also it’s possible that riza ends up leaving the military entirely or goes to support olivier for fuhrer instead. wrath would certainly appreciate the hell outta that
anyway this is a mess and probably the most ooc riza i have ever written but i hope y’all enjoyed it anyway
title notes: aqua regia aka regal water, a nitric/hydrochloric acide mixture so named by alchemists for dissolving noble metals like gold + a bit cribbed straight off robert frost
#fma#fmab#riza hawkeye#WRATH!RIZA WRATH!RIZA#fanfiction#long post#mine#smh tumblr stop eating readmores on asks#today on 'presume attempts to jam another AU in under 2k words'#asks
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