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kouxbe · 2 months

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@beyuwol

it’s the second of march. seollal had ended not too long ago, the memory still fresh in yuwol’s mind. particularly kou’s words. “i think about my birth family, and how it might be like to celebrate seollal like everyone else here.” after years of knowing kou, it was the first time he had seen the younger boy with a subtle glint of sorrow. it was why yuwol suggested the fireworks, wanting to bring back the spark in kou’s eyes that yuwol sees. he doesn’t know if that was enough to fill the void space in kou’s heart—nothing can replace family and yuwol doesn’t dare consider that option—but he hopes it helped; kept it beating. it’s the second of march, and now it’s kou’s birthday. today too, kou’s family isn’t here in korea. even shimmering fireworks may not be able to console kou today, if the other’s thoughts began to wander in that direction. so how about a rainbow? a reminder that every bout of rain passes and ends, that at the end of the tunnel there’s light, that no matter what black sorrow blankets the surface there’s always an array of colors seeping through. a package arrives at kou’s door on the second of march, wrapped up neatly and securely. when the delivery man informed yuwol that it had arrived on location, he texted kou to let him know that he had sent kou something. and that he’ll see him soon, after they’re both done with his commitments. there’s a note attached to the package: happy birthday kou! we haven’t found a rainbow yet, so i hoped we could have our own. i thought it would fit in your apartment better, where the sun lives. thank you for being born. if you want to open this present together, let me know and i’ll come over! :) if kou opened the package, he’ll find a commissioned painting of a rainbow—like the one they saw in japan. a replica, almost. maybe a promise too. it’s the second of march. selfishly, yuwol hopes the sun continues to grace yuwol with his light.

it’s really nothing new. he wakes up to a text message from some friends back in japan – “happy birthday kou!”, and a few smiley faces here and there. it’s odd, kou thinks, how people can remember his birthday better than himself.

his mum gives him a video call a little later, their family in chaos as they get sakura ready for school. but despite the way his little sister struggles to tie her hair in a ponytail, she makes time to turn to the camera and shout “happy birthday! i wish you were here!”. kou does too. but he can’t exactly make a trip back to japan just for his birthday. he waves goodbye and decides to go about his day.

it’s a little sad, really, that kou can’t spend his birthday with his family. that a video call is all that suffices, but he doesn’t linger about that thought for long. nobody else remembers it’s his birthday, at least nobody else in korea. which is fine. kou has never been the type to share this sort of information, so it really isn’t their fault. the rest of the day in training goes by as it usually does, and kou makes no effort to inform anyone about the special day. truth be told, at some point throughout the day, he’d forgotten about it himself.

it isn’t until he’s reached home, and showered does a reminder come knocking on his door. literally. it’s a package, and kou doesn’t remember ordering anything. he blinks, but picks it up anyway and places it on his table. it’s addressed to him after all.

on the package is a note addressed to him, and he furrows his brows before picking it up.

ah.

not everyone in korea has forgotten his birthday it seems. he smiles, and a laugh escapes his lips. he hesitates for a moment, his hand lingering atop the package, before he pulls it away. instead, he picks up his phone and sends yuwol a quick message.

to: yuwol > let’s open the package together > you should come wrapped up too hahahahaha > o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

#submission #beyuwol #( the rainbow that HAUNTS ME #WOW HAPPY BIRTHDAY KOU!!! looks like yuwol cares!!! he must really like you somewhat!!!

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

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Official Accounts Part 29- Tea Talk

Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result

If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa

Warning for recreational drug use

Masterlist

You walk into your apartment somewhat exhausted. You’d spent the whole day doing hardware fixes and tinkering with some of the new equipment the commission had sent over. You greatly preferred software so days you are primarily doing hardware work are always harder. For a moment you forget you aren’t occupying your home alone, and then suddenly you hear the sound of your kettle whistling. You wander into the kitchen to find Keigo grabbing out two mugs. His wings are finally starting to grow back in earnest although they’re still too small to fly with. Seeing them reminds you of small cherub wings almost and every so often you’ll catch him fluttering them just a little bit as if to confirm they’re really there. You notice a few of his feathers rifling through your tea cabinet to find your favorite before dropping a bag in each mug. The sight makes you smile.

“Isn’t your spot typically on the counter little techie?” Keigo asks, interrupting your thoughts as he pours the hot water. You hop up on the counter and take the mug he offers you. “That it is Kei,” you smile. “You sent your friends to check on me,” he replies casually as he moves to lean against the counter just like that first time the two of you had tea together. “I did,” you confirm. “Thank you. I hated it but I needed it. So thank you.”

The two of you lapse back into silence for awhile. It’s different this time. Not uncomfortable per say, but there’s a weight to the silence. You can tell Keigo wants to say something but can’t quite get himself to. Perhaps he’s searching for the perfect wording to express his thoughts. Perhaps he isn’t sure he’s truly ready to share them at all. Regardless, you wait patiently. You wait patiently even as your tea cools. You wait patiently even as you start to drink it. You’re still waiting patiently as you finish off your tea and Keigo’s grip tightens around his still full mug in apparent frustration. You put your own mug down before carefully prying Keigo’s away from him. He waits for the moment you ask what’s wrong, a sense of failure already sinking in because even with how much he’s let his guard down around you he still can’t completely let go. He dreads the moment you ask because he just knows he won’t be able to tell you and it will break your heart again. He braces himself. And then you ask your question: “Wanna get high for the first time?”

He blinks at you, surprised, and wonders how you do it. How did you know he wouldn’t be able to handle disappointing you again? “Sure,” he finally replies. “I’ll meet you on the balcony,” you tell him with a small smile before hopping off the counter and heading to your bedroom, where Denki had left the remaining weed from the party the other night. By the time you head to the balcony, the door is open and Keigo is sitting on the floor outside, staring up at the sky. You close the door behind you as you step out to join him before taking a seat next to him. He watches as you somewhat clumsily roll a joint for the two of you. “Denki has always been better at this than I am,” you chuckle sheepishly. “I think you’re doing great,” Keigo responds. “Of course you would. You have no idea what great rolling looks like,” you tease before procuring a lighter from your pocket. “Ok, so here’s how this goes,” you start, “if you don’t want to cough here’s the trick. First bring the smoke into your mouth, hold it there for a second, and then inhale more and bring it into your lungs. Got it?” “Got it.” “Good.”

You put the joint to your lips and carefully light it. You take your time drawing it in and Keigo can’t help but think there’s something strangely beautiful about the way you do it. When you’ve finished you pass it to him and watch as he carefully follows your directions. You resist the urge to giggle at how serious he looks. “Relax Keigo, that’s kind of the point,” you tease. He rolls his eyes but does his best to not think quite so much on his second hit. After you’ve each taken a few hits, you give him a considering look and then decide to address what had made you invite him to smoke with you in the first place. “Look I’m not saying you should make weed the answer every time you’re struggling to open up. I refuse to be the reason the number two hero picks up a drug addiction. But you also looked like you were going to give yourself an aneurysm trying to say whatever it is you wanted to say. So we’re going to sit here and smoke and it will mellow you out and if you decide you can and want to say whatever it is that was on your mind in the kitchen that’s great. If not, well, that’s fine too,” you assure him. The thank you Keigo gives you is quiet but genuine, and you cherish it all the more for it.

It takes about an hour for Keigo to finally work up the courage to speak his mind.

“I owe you a talk,” he confesses.

“What do you mean?”

“About why I did what I did. I haven’t really explained. Not specifically. And you deserve that. Especially with everything you’ve done for me these past few days.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” you assure him. “I really, really do,” he responds.

He takes a few deep breaths, another hit, and then he slowly starts to explain: “I didn’t investigate you because I never liked you like that. I liked you so much it was frankly terrifying. Ever since that first late night at the office with you after you agreed to run my social media, you’ve shown me you understand me in ways that I didn’t even think possible. My mom didn’t love me enough to take me with her when she bolted. My dad certainly never loved me. Thank god Endeavor saved me and carted my father off to jail but I had such a clinical and tactical childhood. I... I couldn’t comprehend why you would want to be involved with me without an ulterior motive. I asked you on the date primarily to interrogate you yes. I won’t insult your intelligence by trying to lie about that. But it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be with you. It was because I wanted to be with you so bad, I desperately needed to prove you really were just crazy enough to like me back.”

“Oh Keigo... Thanks for telling me,” you say. He nods and silence falls over you both once again as you debate whether to say what’s on your mind. You take another hit, holding it in your lungs a little longer this time before releasing it into the cold night. “Now which of us is holding back?” Keigo prods as he plucks the joint from your fingers to take a hit of his own. “I just....” you sigh, “there’s something you should know about Endeavor.” “What do you mean?” “He’s not who you think he is.”

Hawks looks at you incredulously. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? “No offense but I think I know him a little better-“ “He’s a child abuser.” You’re just as shocked by your outburst as Hawks is, judging by the way he’s staring at you. “No. That’s not possible,” Hawks insists. “It’s true. The reason Dabi became a villain is because Endeavor pushed him too far in training and it literally almost burned him away entirely. Until recently Endeavor thought he was dead because of how massive the fire was. Then he trained Shoto into the ground as well to try and prevent him from turning out like Dabi. Like Touya.”

“You’re lying,” Hawks accuses desperately as he stands and begins to pace the small length of your balcony. “You know me well enough to know I’m not,” you fire back. “Who told you all this?” “Dabi.” “And you’re just going to trust him!?” “Of course not! But it makes sense doesn’t it? How the fuck else would the son of the long time number two and now number one hero end up a villain? Plus you never met Shoto in high school. He hated his father for years and even now their relationship is strained at best. It all lines up, Keigo!” you insist and it hurts. It hurts to see Hawks looking so distressed. It hurts to watch as his worldview crumbles in front of your eyes. “But I’m only here because I wanted to be like him,” Hawks finally admits, stopping in his tracks and trembling in place. “You are so much better than him,” you try to reassure the man in front of you, but as you rise and place a hand on his shoulder Hawks shakes you off. “Don’t,” he bites out before storming back into your apartment. The sound of the door slamming shut behind him feels like a gun shot in the quiet of the night.

Author’s Note: Idk if people noticed this but I’m very intentional with when I refer to our bird boy as Hawks vs when I refer to him as Keigo. Or at least I try to be. It was a bit of a last minute decision to have (y/n) reveal Endeavor as human garbage to Keigo in this chapter but I’ve been thinking about how he’d react to finding out his childhood hero is an abuser and this came out as a result.

Taglist [open]: @cathy8taffy @katzurras @grumpyfroggies @captaincyberqueen @itskindofafairything @420-uwu @someweirdshitman @oliviasslut @the-adzukibean @a-fucking-sero-kinnie @ladyzayismultifandom

#hopelessoa #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks smau

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ampleappleamble · 3 years

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—

She closed her eyes to pray. Opened them. Closed them, tried to pray again. Stopped.

This isn't right, she thought.

It wasn't as though Axa had been expecting exactly the same sort of religious services as she'd grown up with in Ixamitl– especially not from followers of Wael– but sitting in a library and trying to pray felt akin to going to the clothier's to eat dinner, or having a bath in the bakery.

The Waelite priests back home tended to wander from town to town, either alone on foot or in small groups driving ramshackle wagons, setting out their begging bowls and preaching the mysteries of the Eyeless Face by day, taking drugs and sleeping in trees or on rooftops by night. Their services were subsequently quite sporadic, their sermons spontaneous and abstruse, sometimes downright nonsensical, sometimes shockingly revelatory. They'd had a knack for showing up when the community was in direst need of their unique guidance– and for absconding quickly and quietly after inevitably pressing their luck too far and pissing off the locals.

"Ah! The exhilarating, carefree life of the vagabond," Vaargys had stated one evening, regarding the other priests with reverence as they'd trundled off in their brightly-painted wagons. "I almost envy them." He'd wrapped his arm around her, then, and she'd leaned into him, smiling. Promising in her heart that he'd never have to live that kind of life again.

She remembered the night she'd kicked him out, the light from her burning books illuminating his back as he'd vanished into the darkness.

"Watcher."

Pallegina's voice startled the orlan out of her reverie, and she looked up to see the paladin standing over her, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She had seemed... uncomfortable ever since they'd stepped foot into the Hall of Revealed Mysteries, although she hadn't said anything, and Axa was secretly relieved that she wasn't the only one feeling out of place.

"Pardon my intrusion, but I think, perhaps, it is time we started our work for the day." The woman's golden eyes darted to and fro, narrowing as they alighted on the huge painted Eye of Wael dominating the far wall. "As much as I appreciate a well-stocked library, I have always felt somewhat ill at ease in temples. And no amount of reading– or praying– will fulfill our tasks for us."

Axa cocked an eyebrow at the other woman, her lips twitching into a grin. "A Godlike who doesn't care much for temples? Sounds familiar."

"Is that so?" Pallegina cast the little woman a piercing glare, feathers ruffling. "In what way, exactly?"

The redhead looked down at her feet, swinging her legs back and forth, still smiling wryly. "My little brother Tico is a Godlike. Touched by Hylea, actually, same as you. He also didn't like temples much. 'Institutions of kith,' he called them, always trying to tell him what he was, who he was, what he was meant to do with his life. And our mother was little better." The smile had slowly tightened as she'd spoken, and now her mouth was a taut, straight line.

Pallegina blinked at her, a bit taken aback. This was not where she had been expecting this conversation to go. "I see," she murmured.

Axa could feel the other woman's discomfort, feel the mood getting awkward, but she couldn't seem to stop herself from continuing anyway. "Mama always wanted a large family, having never had one of her own at all growing up as a slave in Readceras, but after Tico's birth, the midwife told her she couldn't have any more. She never outwardly blamed him, but it wasn't difficult to tell that she was bitter about it, and she absolutely took it out on him. She used to guilt him into giving her his feathers so she could craft special religious totems, commissions for wealthy clients, to keep the family afloat after Papa disappeared. Tico felt so bad for her, he could never quite muster the strength to refuse. As far as I know, he's still letting her pluck him bald."

The straight line of her lips had morphed into a full-on scowl, now, her little hands balled into fists. "No matter where he went or what he did, he always seemed to be caught between being perceived as either an object of worship or an object of scorn... but always an object. Never a person."

"Ac. It is always that way, for us." Pallegina spoke softly, gravely, a faraway look in her keen eyes. "Being different in the way that we are means always second-guessing every kind gesture or word of praise, always looking over our shoulders and watching our own backs. No matter who we keep company with. Your brother and I have that in common, it seems. He has my sympathies."

Axa sighed, running a shaky hand through her thick hair. "Thank you. I– Sorry, I– I didn't mean to unload my family history on you. I guess I just had the past on my mind. I was actually thinking of Vaargys just before we started talking..."

The paladin cocked her head inquisitively. "Who?"

Axa remembered, suddenly, that she hadn't yet met Pallegina when she'd told the story of her tumultuous, doomed courtship, and she laughed at her own foolishness. "He's... a long story," she chuckled. "I'll tell you later, if Kana doesn't beat me to it. And after I've had a few drinks first, ideally."

An amused smirk popped up on Pallegina's face. "You may not be Godlike, Watcher, but you are certainly strange in your own way. Not that that is necessarily a bad thing, of course."

The orlan glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, fidgeting in her seat. "Speaking of strange things that are hard to talk about– I hope it isn't rude of me to ask, but I couldn't help but notice that you don't exactly... look like him. Like Tico, I mean." She peeked at the paladin's face again, saw more curiosity than hostility, pressed on. "I mean, beyond just the obvious differences. His feathers are a different color, which is to be expected as far as I'm aware, but the amount of feathers on his body, the shape of his nose and brow, even the skin on his hands and feet– he's quite a lot... birdier than you appear to be."

Pallegina scoffed, quickly jerking her head to one side to gaze at the temple's exit. "There is a reason for that," she muttered after a long pause. "And it is none of your business. However, you are not the first to notice the discrepancies between myself and other Avian Godlikes. Suffice it to say I had a certain... benefactor in my youth, a practitioner of animancy who assisted me through some difficult formative years." The soldier's face softened, suddenly, just for a moment, and then hardened as she fixed her gaze on Axa again, looking away from the main door as a new visitor gently pushed it open. "That is all I will say on the matter."

"An animancer, huh." Axa slid off of her pew, contemplating Pallegina's words as she stretched her back and rolled her shoulders. "...Think the ones at Brackenbury Sanitarium can help Aloth?"

The taller woman snorted derisively. "If he should ever gather the nerve to actually commit to going there and meeting with one, possibly, yes." The man who had just entered the temple seemed to be heading straight for her and the Watcher, so she kept her eye on him, but saw no need to acknowledge him just yet. "And if they happen to hail from the Republics, all the better."

"He'll come around," Axa sighed. "It's not always so easy to bare your soul to a stranger, literally or figuratively. Although, listening to me you'd think–"

"State your business, quickly." Axa snapped to attention at the sound of Pallegina's sharp, commanding voice, surprised to only now notice the messenger standing before them. Where did he come from?

"Erh– begging your pardon, Lady Knight, but I've a message for your cohort," the man stammered under her cool, confident presence. He regained some of his professional stature as he turned to face the orlan, wax-sealed missive in hand. "You are Axa Mala?"

"I am," she replied. Around the hall, scholars and priests looked up from their books or paused their whispered conversations, hoping to learn what they could of this new development. Aloth and Sagani alerted Edér and Kana, and quickly and quietly the little group gathered around Axa, ready to leave.

"A message for you, madam," the courier stated. "Chancellor Warrin requests your presence at the Ducal Palace this day, to discuss Erl Bademar's ruling on the rightful ownership of Caed Nua."

"I see," the little woman sighed. "I suppose it was about time I got to work today anyway."

—

#pillars of eternity #poe anthem infinitum #fic wip #endlessly farting around in defiance bay: part 4732: electric boogaloo #someday we'll get to that sanitarium!#someday.........

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dumbass-mha-simp · 3 years

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Hawks x Reader: Bad Idea

Another self indulgent Hawks fic that I've literally had in my notes for months. He lives in my head rent free along with my other 22 fake boyfriend's because I'm ✨mentally unstable.✨ It is a song fic tho, Bad Idea ft. Shiloh Dynasty https://youtu.be/kH9hJnT7KkE

youtube

Tw: food, depression, Hawks is honestly just feeling it bro- same dude,

Word count: almost 2k? I think

Requests are open! Honestly I'm probably terrible but the only things I can think to write are those imaginary situations I put myself in

(Y/L/N)- your last name

(Y/N)- your name

Thoughts or emphasized talk are in italics

Also idk why but I imagine he removes his feathers to shower since they probably need different cleaning conditions and also they just seem like a hassle in showers.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Here he was, the number two prohero. Everyone assumed his life was perfect, anything he wanted served on a gold platter. He felt the guilt creep up into him.

I should be thankful. The thoughts ate away at his mind in the rare seconds he got alone. You shouldn't be so selfish. So annoying. So insufferable.

Takami pushed these thoughts back. "No one needs to know how you think, Keigo." He whispers out to himself in his office.

He scrawled at paper work, trying to not let the self depreciating thoughts feast away on his mind. Unfortunately for him, different thoughts came up.

His best friend, Rumi had this friend. (Y/L/N). Smart, attractive, sometimes a little rough around the edges, but amazing. He found his mind wandering to them all too often.

They were mostly unknown, despite their insanely strong quirk. They preferred to stay out of the lime-light, through that irritable exterior sat overwhelming anxiety and shyness. But they always denied it.

He stopped himself as he realized he's spent 10 minutes only thinking of them, a friend. Yeah right.

He lazily walked out of the office waving to all his employees as he made his way outside. His eyes slowly dragged to the darkly faded blue sky, dusted in clouds. Cold, tired, aching. Just how he felt.

He took a slow brisk flight to his house, feeling the wind bash his face and the air flow through his feathers. He gently placed a foot on the metal railing of his balcony, taking a deep step to the ground and opening the door.

The emptiness rung through his apartment like a blaring siren. You have everything. How can you still want more?

The voices in his head screamed and clawed their way out. You're nobody. No one ever loved you. You're so alone. You're nothing but a tool to the commission. You're actual character is useless.

He shed his coat, boots, and pants. Looking to himself in the mirror as he removed most of his feathers. He looked exhausted as he stumbled into the shower, numbly.

The next ten minutes seemed to elude him when he wondered how much time has gone by of him staring at the shower wall blankly.

He dried off a bit then looked around his kitchen for something to eat. Have I eaten today? The buzz and light of his phone on the counter startled him.

"Hey, Hawks." A single, simple message from (Y/L/N). Okay don't panic.

"What's up?" He replied swiftly.

"I had this feeling something was wrong and wanted to check up on you."

"Why would you think that?" He tried to play it off like it wasn't true without actually lying.

"I'm not sure. Do you maybe wanna join me?" You asked.

"Where?"

"Well, every once in awhile when I need a break I go and stargaze with a night picnic. It helps me relax, and if you think it might help I'd want to. I can tell something's off." You were always so convincing. It felt like you weren't too nosy or snoopy but you understood.

"Text me where to be and when?" He let out a gentle smile at his phone.

"The dollar store on 4th in 10 minutes? So we can choose some snacks together?"

"I'll be there."

Did Takami think any problems where going to be solved with some food in the dark? No. But would he skip the opportunity to be with you, to find out how he really felt when it was just you two? Absolutely not.

He landed down on the broken pavement outside of the old dollar store, scanning around to see you.

"Boo!" A bump from behind had him flinching to see the sound as you stood behind him giggling. "Got ya."

"Very funny (Y/L/N) the most amazing trick yet." He rolled his eyes with a slight smile.

"C'mon let's go grab a bunch of terrible snacks and call it a picnic, bird brain."

You two walked into the store and walked a large circle around it, choosing chips and candy and drinks at your leisure. Once you got to the counter, he fights you to his wallet.

"It's my picnic."

"And I'm the very special guest who was so generously invited. I'm paying." He grins as you pout at him.

Grabbing the bags you placed them in the back seat as you offered passenger side to him.

"I don't like cars."

"Why not?"

"Cramps my wings."

You look at him with the biggest puppy eyes you can manage. "You already agreed to keep me company and pay for the snacks, let me do something for you?"

"Fine, but only cause you're pouting kid."

He gently sits in your passenger seat as you strap yourself in and turn the car on. The car hums and the music playing softly on the radio are the only things heard. The peace feeling too good to break.

Once you pull your car up into the parking lot of a small park and grab your bags, you begin leading him to your usual place.

"Hold these." You hand him the bags as you jump and climb up on top of a big metal container. You peer over the side with big eyes and a smile as you say to him, "now hand me the bags and do what I did!"

He looks at you with a wide smirk before simply flying up to join you. "Or you can do it the cheater's way." You pouted and bumped his shoulder.

"It's not cheating, it's using my resources." He says with a triumphant smirk.

"Your cheating resources." You pull out your gummy candies and started eating as you leaned back till you were laying down.

"Do you like the stars, Hawks?" You say like your sleep talking, staring into the night sky.

"Keigo." He shifts to lay down about a foot away from you. "You can call me, Keigo. And... I don't think I've ever taken time to look at the stars."

"No sneaking out away from parents to sit on vans and stargaze? Or watching the sunrise with a partner while eating fast food?"

"What kinda date is sitting in a car for hours staring at the sky and eating?" He laughs.

"Ah one that never really happened, he just said he would. But never mind that repressed shit." A sad laugh forces itself out as you stare between the stars.

"Was he cute?" He tried to sound funny but it came out more sympathetic.

"Sometimes," you laugh with him. "But he had really nice hands."

"Hands? That's an odd thing to find attractive." He turned his head over to look at you as your eyes seemed to burn holes in the dark milky blue sky.

He continued laughing with you about this guy but couldn't help an overwhelming feeling of jealousy. Who was he? Did he look anything like him? Was this recent?

"Keigo?" A voice snapped at his train or thought, "Yes, (Y/L/N)?" He replied rushed.

"Do you want your mini cookies?" You ask looking to him with the bag.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks." He mentions grabbing the bag from your finger tips.

He ate his cookies and thought as you seemed either lost in your head, or lost in the stars.

Loving you would be selfish. As such a high ranking hero, he's made a target for himself and anyone around him. He's broken down, can't feel. You obviously have other people on your mind. Someone like you wouldn't be single long.

"When did he leave?" He blurts out without thinking. Maybe it's a sore subject-

"Long ago." You look lost, your eyes searching and wandering but never grabbing hold of exactly where you should be. "Why?" Well I guess if I'm gonna start prying might as well go all the way.

"He thought that maybe he could love me. But now that's just ridiculous," you laugh coldly. "Who would love me?"

"Falling in love with you seems like a really bad idea. But not on your part." He whispers into the wind, hoping it'll carry his words away from you.

"What do you mean?" You look completely confused, almost scattered.

"You're quiet, and I'm someone who puts a spotlight on practically anyone around me. You'd constantly be put in danger. Plus I'm arrogant and cocky, nothing at all like you." He acted like he could see the stars as you could. He stared into them finding any way he could to avoid your eyes.

"You could get hurt or I could annoy you." He whispers.

"I had no idea you felt that way, Keigo." You whisper back, shock keeping your voice quiet.

His eyes burned holes into the night sky, he felt he shouldn't look at you. The mental image of you already wouldn't go away.

"You wanna know something, Keigo? I can read people like books, I can read stars like stories, and I can read in-between lines like they were in bold font. But, you always catch me off guard. Reading you is like a mystery novel. Sometimes intense, sometimes peaceful, but always keeping me wondering." You smile into the stars, you can tell he desperately doesn't want to see your eyes. "You're always leaving everyone on the edge of their seat, and when you leave you can't stop thinking of the next time you'll come. What you'll bring."

"I....I don't think I understand (Y/L/N)-" Keigo's soon cut off.

"(Y/N)"

"Well, (Y/N)- I don't think I understand." He tries to sit up and look at you.

"You catch me off guard, something about you speaks to me in ways I know you never actually would. I can see it, the way you stumble or hesitate. I can tell somethings scared you into silence." You've never had much chance to talk about the ways you analyze people, you wanted to tell him how you could tell the way he acted wasn't always good.

"I think you might be reading too much into this, kid." He tries to intervene.

"I get if you don't want to tell me." You stared up at the stars, waiting for him to do the same. "You see there?" You pointed to a star. "That's a constellation."

"They just look like stars." He seemed a bit disappointed that he couldn't see stars the way you did, with such knowledge and wonder in your eyes.

"That's cause they are," you giggled to him, "it's not like I can actually see the pictures either."

"You.. you can't?" He looked to you confused but slightly hopeful, how could they look at them but not see too?

"That's the whole point, Keigo. It's being able to see what's not really there. Sometimes I stare into the sky hoping to see any semblance of hope, but that's not how it is. You have to teach yourself to look at what could be there." He stared to you, a small content smile graced your face. You were beautiful.

"(Y/N)?"

"Yes?"

"Maybe, loving you isn't such a bad idea.." he looked remorseful, staring into the stars. Maybe he could see it too one day.

"What do you mean?" You glace to him.

"You see so much, you can read and see the things I want to see. I want to learn, (Y/N). I want to see how you do."

The smile on your face spread.

"I'd love to show you."

54 notes · View notes

rhomsfanfic · 3 years

Text

Tease

[My Commission Info] | [My Ao3] | [Ko-Fi]

a/n: Some spicy OsaAka because why not :P

Rated: Mature Characters: Miya Osamu X Akaashi Keiji (Haikyuu!!) Genre: Lemon Words: 1790

“You��re imagining things,” Akaashi mumbled against Osamu’s lips as the door to his apartment finally made way for the two to stumble in, arm in arm. “My mother adores you!”

He was cut off again before he could say more, Osamu not wasting time with getting out of his shoes and coat before helping Akaashi, stripping him of his clothes with much pleasure. “Does she adore me-” he asked, urging Akaashi forward into the dark hallway, knowing the way to the bedroom well, “-or my cooking?”

Akaashi couldn’t help but laugh, the sweet, amused sound echoing through the apartment while his pullover came off, landing somewhere between the bath and living room. Neither of them was very bothered by leaving traces of themselves around, hoping that soon enough, they’d be able to move in together and create many more such traces. But for now, pullover, jeans, and socks had to do, leaving a trail from the entrance to the bedroom.

“I’d wager she was equally impressed by both,” he finally replied, letting himself down on the edge of his bed, wasting no time to fumble with Osamu’s sturdy belt. His body was still comfortably warm after wearing his winter ensemble, but all the more exciting were Osamu’s cold hands on his shoulders dragging forward over his arms and to his hands, resting there. It wasn’t always visible what went on in Osamu’s head. Still, he had no qualms when it came to Akaashi’s actions, gladly accepting his boyfriend’s care when it came to undressing him too.

In fact, Osamu might have always been the more impulsive and straight-forward with his desires of the two.

For onlookers, that might be a fact when comparing the two, but not for Osamu. Not for someone who was allowed to be so close and observe Akaashi daily. No one would ever come to enjoy the various facets and adorable gestures Osamu’s boyfriend made over the day. And even more so, no one would know all the feelings Akaashi could stir up in Osamu.

Playing with his pen while Akaashi thought, or the way he always subtly held the popcorn in Osamu’s direction while they watched a movie. The formal yet hopeful question of ‘Are you coming over tonight?’ in his texts, or subtle interrogations about presents for anniversaries. In many aspects, Osamu couldn’t get enough of Akaashi, and it was reassuring to know that Akaashi seemed to feel the same. Even so, he was still full of surprises even after months of dating, but Osamu wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Otherwise, where would the courage and willingness to tease come from? He might have learned it from Osamu, but Akaashi’s perfection of it was his own work. Even now, at the first meeting with Akaashi’s parents, he had not given Osamu any chance to remain calm. As if it wasn’t nerve-wracking enough to meet his partner’s parents, no, Akaashi had made it almost impossible for Osamu to keep his composure. Surely, he meant well at first, reaching for Osamu’s hand under the table, squeezing it reassuringly, but the devil in disguise didn’t fool anyone with his adorable, happy smirk and gleam in his eyes.

Not when his hand wandered way further than just Osamu’s thighs beneath the dinner table.

“I couldn’t help it,” Akaashi confirmed his suspicion as if reading his mind, grinning mischievously. “Thought I’d take some tension off of you.”

“Oh, ya were having fun, alright,” Osamu retorted, but he couldn’t help but grin too. Akaashi gave him an innocent shrug, batting his eyelashes blamelessly as he finally pulled down Osamu’s pants, fiddling at the waistband of his boxers now. But two big hands were quick to stop him, and Akaashi didn’t squirm as Osamu brought them back, pushing his boyfriend into the mattress. “Now’s my turn, though,” he declared, and Akaashi chuckled challengingly under his boyfriend’s watchful eyes. “We’ll see about that,” he retorted, and Osamu accepted his lover’s provocation, licking his lips in anticipation.

With Akaashi’s help, it wasn’t hard to slip his briefs off, legs parting as they were freed of the restriction of underwear, with Osamu kneeling down before the bed. “Stay down,” he instructed as Akaashi was about to sit up again, keeping himself propped on his forearms instead. “Why?” he asked his partner, and Osamu gave him an impish shrug, “Just let me enjoy the view.”

It wasn’t an empty promise of what he was going to do because as soon as Osamu’s tongue rolled over the exposed tip in front of his mouth, Akaashi’s cheeks began to redden. Words he perhaps would have liked to say were stuck in his throat while one hand vainly covered his face. The only adorable sounds that rang out were a mix of moans and satisfaction. His free hand first resting on top of Osamu’s hair before Akaashi couldn’t help the need to grip into the soft and luscious strands under his palm, feeling Osamu smirk against his cock. To Osamu, it was a sight for the gods.

There wasn’t a single second wasted against Akaashi urging, lips closing around his member, causing a wave of emotions in him. Osamu might not have been one to prolong the inevitable, but he sure was a thorough lover, starting out slow with Akaashi’s tip, sliding it over his tongue into the back of his throat, easing both of them into the pleasure. Bringing his hands up to Akaashi’s shaft, he began massaging it together with his mouth, building an effective motion to edge Akaashi on. Both of them liked the idea of watching each other, but Osamu had - quite literally - the upper hand in this, Akaashi barely able to keep his eyes focused on his lover’s pleased gaze.

However, just as quickly as he initiated the caress, Osamu was able to take it away again, not even waiting for Akaashi to call out his name excitedly before he let go of him. Disappointment laid in the way Akaashi’s shoulders dropped, and he muttered out a displeased groan, the cold of the room laying down on his heated skin now that Osamu was gone. “Looks like someone got a bit eager there,” Osamu chuckled, and not wanting to admit his need for more, Akaashi only huffed.

“Tell me, little Owl, where’s it that you want to come? Face? Hands? Or-”

Letting his tongue slip out from his lips, Osamu grinned, his chest heaving in the feeling of victory as he looked at Akaashi’s eyes growing darker with lust upon seeing the open invitation.

“Mouth?” he breathed out sensually, watching the absolutely splendid sight of Akaashi gulping, both of them knowing the only right answer to this question. “You’re awful today,” Akaashi noted, knowing he was pudding in Osamu’s hands. Teasing was an art, after all. Akaashi had studied it well, but Osamu still was the master between the two.

“You mean awfully good,” Osamu retorted, probing his tongue against the shaft once more and reveling in the sound of Akaashi’s sharp breath.

“Just do it like always--”

“Keiji,” Osamu interrupted him. “Choose.”

Biting his bottom lip, Akaashi could only watch the teasing kisses Osamu left on him. It shouldn’t have needed so much overcoming for him to admit what he wanted, but usually, it was Osamu doing as he felt like at that moment. Akaashi never had to voice it before - even when he could have - especially not when all options were very satisfying as long as it was Osamu he could trust with them. But even Akaashi realized it was a game played by two, so there was no weaseling out of it.

“M-Mouth,” he finally stammered out, embarrassed over his own voice breaking. However, the sound of joyous anticipation couldn’t be hidden from Osamu’s ears. “Decided to be honest, haven’t ya?” he teased but wasted no time to envelop Akaashi’s cock with his lips again.

Letting himself fall back into the mattress again, Akaashi tried to take deep breaths in an effort to recollect himself. There were too many things wasted in the quick passing of the day, so at least this feeling, Akaashi wanted to treasure for as long as he could. Sure, there’d be other nights they would spend intimately together, but this one would only happen once.

What Osamu didn’t know was that Akaashi thought alike about Osamu’s habits, as he did over Akaashi’s. Even now, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head of his usually so easygoing partner triple-checking the mirror before they went out to meet Akaashi’s parents. Or how his palms were slightly sweaty when Akaashi reached for his hand under the dinner table. Osamu was many things, especially reliable and a tower of strength for his boyfriend. But besides his on-point teases and the gentle spark in his eyes, today he had been absolutely adorable. Akaashi didn’t even know Osamu could get flustered, but he was humble and sweet in the face of Akaashi’s parents.

He would have loved to treasure these memories of Osamu by fully immersing himself in his pleasure, let it excite every fiber of his so that his body could remember it forever. But Akaashi would have been damned if he didn’t truly enjoy this to the end, and Osamu was practically all he could think about anyway.

“Osa--!” Akaashi still managed to croak out, digging his hands into his partner’s hair. Osamu didn’t even need to think of complying, embracing the pulsating shaft with his lips, feeling the hot spurts over his tongue. He let Akaashi live out the waves of pleasure, causing fragments of ‘Oh gods’ and Osamu’s name to fall even more plentiful from his lips. In fact, he was basking in the view spreading before him, Akaashi completely and happily losing himself - and Osamu wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Letting off, Osamu came to his feet, wiping the corners of his mouth clean and giving Akaashi a winning smirk while the latter’s chest was still rising and falling quickly. “Ready for more?” he asked, and Akaashi’s eyes immediately shot up to him, the shine in them speaking more than a thousand words, but his mouth only muttered, “Really?”

Osamu had to chuckle, realizing it was a question asked in exciting anticipation, and he leaned over Akaashi to kiss him from the corners of his mouth down his neck to his collarbones. “Really, really,” he assured him. “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow when I’m through with you.”

For that, he earned Akaashi playfully smacking him in the chest, protesting, “I have work tomorrow!” before the two fell into simultaneous laughter, exchanging another kiss and another.

Both knowing that there were nights, like this one, they’d never forget.

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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

Text

Fucktoy

Commission long overdue for the lovely @ago-fucks featuring Revenant/Reader and a certain sex toy that’s a craze with all the cool kids out there.

Fleshlights, I’m talking fleshlights.

Summary: Revenant is best when he's tied up and begging, at least that's what you think. Or. In which you buy a new toy for your murder robot boyfriend and you get to test it out in the best ways involving bondage, begging, and getting to hear him say things no one else would get to hear.

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog the fics you like :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked on sight!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Revenant/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, bondage, praise, mild degradation, reader is gender neutral and has a vulva and is specifically written as short and chubby, lots of Rev/Robot headcanons happening in here, wireplay, lingerie (on reader), Revenant has a cock attachment

Words: 3.2k

__________________

A little surprise was needed every now and again, you thought.

Revenant had been doing so well lately getting adjusted to this period in his life. In the arena, he was a menace to be seen, snarling and growling, shedding blood and laughing about it like it was his favorite thing. But, at home, sure he still snarled and growled- it was in his voice box to do so after all, but it was more of a grumble as he accepted your eager hands to drag him down to your much shorter height to press a kiss to his face plate and welcome him home.

Like a feral cat, he’d had to warm up to you. You were one of the Apex Games medical experts when they arrived injured. Specializing in mechanics and secondly in human flesh, you were hired to work mostly on Pathfinder, and then of course when he joined, Revenant. Special repairs were to be had for each model, and oh did Revenant not like anyone touching him. You had made it clear that consent was strict.

You would not touch him, unless he was comfortable with you doing so.

~Rest under the cut~

Perhaps that had made him warm up to you quicker, with giving him the choice so he could have control on the situation. He’d grumbled the first time, but he’d let you patch him up at least, and then the second time had snarled he didn’t need your help before begrudgingly leaning to the side to show where a cord might have torn.

And to present relationship? Now he cuddled up to you like an affection starved feline. Perhaps feline wasn’t a good word for him, maybe an arachnid with how his long, spidery limbs wound around you. Revenant had grumbled the first time that he hadn’t powered down in centuries, quite literally. Because he didn’t really know he could. But after some research on simulacrum, you found he had the ability to and now one of his favorite things was joining you in bed.

So now? Now you were both looking on your laptop for new toys. You’d wanted to find something to accommodate his preferred attachment lately of a cock, since dildos and strap ons wouldn’t work with said attachment. Vibrators did pretty well, but you wanted something more...hands on.

“What about one of these?” You had asked, offering the fleshlight section of the site. You’d been able to watch him hum curiously, his optics spinning as he admired the choices. Before he’d asked to see them in use. Which required looking up videos to give examples and being able to see him eagerly ask you to go back so he could pick one.

With that out of the way, you placed one in the cart and waited for him to power down for the night before you’d snuck your phone and placed another thing in for yourself and ordered it express. Carefully maneuvering yourself back into his eager arms.

Then it had been the desperate waiting game.

The box arrives at your apartment’s doorstep discreetly packaged. You know Revenant is getting ready for a match so you text him eagerly from your holopad to let him know that his gift is here, and asking if he of course wants to try it out tonight. You bite your lip after you hit send, eagerness through your chest as you take to picking up around your home to ignore your own giddy feelings. You had today off, and probably good you did anyhow considering how excited your face must have been.

It would be hours before he replied, but once you finally get that notification for his text, the sun has already started to set. You’d been tuned into the games, watching the cameras pick up on his victory with Bloodhound and Caustic at his side. Curled up on the corner of the couch and able to watch him nail Octane between his goggle’s lenses with a peacekeeper. Gory, perhaps, but you were a medical and mechanical professional, you’d seen worse.

A solid, three burst knock makes you perk up. You’d been comfortable at home in some shorts and a hoodie, nothing special nor nothing you couldn’t answer the door in. You swing off the couch, padding across the floor and open it wide open to smile up at the bot at the door.

“Hi, baby, saw your win! Congratulations on being champion!” You practically coo your praise to him, stepping by to let him in as you shut and lock the door behind you. Revenant lets his optics wander the apartment, cleaned and picked up, before finally looking downwards at you. He was already tall enough, but you were short by nature, meaning your head met about his chest plate. He’d always thought it was cute.

Eagerly, you reach up for him, making a ‘gimme’ motion until he relents and leans down, letting you cup his face plate and peck a kiss on his silicone lower lip. “No scratches on you? I know I wasn’t there today; Theodore should have had you covered.” You murmur the last bit, releasing him so you could circle him like the worried partner you were.

Revenant huffs in return, optics rolling, “Is that his name? I didn’t ask. You know very well no one can fix me as well as you can.” His voice growls in a low grumble, but you definitely take that last part as a compliment. It’s definitely worth it when you beam up at him from his side, lifting his arm briefly to check for the damages done to inner circuiting. The smallest brush of your fingers against the thick wirings of his right hip makes him make a soft noise, causing you to immediately retract and for him to be disappointed. Not that he’d show it.

“You can’t be picky if you’re damaged,” You remind him, moving to in front of him with your arms crossed, watching him mimic your stance as he goes to sass you again but you’re quick on him, “And don’t you say it’s because I know better, he has just as many qualifications as me. You just like me.” Your voice is a tease, a smile on your face he can’t be mad at.

It’s a slow walk to you room as you talk idly amongst yourselves. But as you make it to the bed, you pipe up quietly. “You still want to try, right? You know I’ve never minded if you don’t want to, I’d love you no less.” With a gentle hand to the curve of the metal at his hip and your eyes flicking up to search his optics for tension. Revenant had been...skittish when it came to sex, his biggest fear had been that he’d hurt you. Nowadays it was a way to be intimate, but you still felt the need to triple check just in case he wasn’t feeling up to it.

He lets out a snort, a sort of choked growl in his voice box to mimic the sound. A hand over yours settles your nerves with his voice rumbling, “Yes. I picked the damned thing after all. Besides I,” He pauses there for a moment, seeming to struggle before he lets out in a softer tone, bringing your hand up to his face plate so he could mimic a kiss to your knuckles. “I enjoy our intimate time together. Or whatever frilly way you want me to say ‘fuck’.”

It eases the tension in your body, a laugh choking from you as you move the hand brought to his face to cup his face plate, running your thumb on his silicone lower lip. Revenant’s optics flicker to the bed, clearly curious as to where you HAD said toy. But, your grin must answer his question, “Get comfortable on the bed and I’ll go get ready. Remember your safe words and signals?”

It’s with a soft huff Revenant does as told. Red, yellow, and green were always easy to remember. The hand signals were simple enough, depending on what was hindered. Two slaps to any nearby object or two slams of his foot were silent ways to say stop.

You wait for him patiently, reminding him of what a good boy he is and leaving the room to let him undoubtedly get his attachment on. As well as to sneak into the bathroom to find the freshly cleaned toy, rope you’d had lain out, and your outfit of choice.

Your body was always on the plumper side, but you didn’t have an issue with it- neither did Revenant at that. Your lovely body is dressed in a dark blue, lace baby doll night gown. The night gown part was split right beneath your chest with a lovely little bow, splaying across your sides and ending at the swells of your thighs. Scalloped straps pulled up over your shoulders, letting your plentiful cleavage be shown. The panties were a matching thong, with thigh highs to boot.

Perfect.

When you walk back out into the bedroom, Revenant’s reaction is almost feral. The way the static in his voice box goes lower with the low growl he lets out, his optics seeming to spin in almost a bird-like fashion with how darker orange fills the space and then thins out. It makes you feel...wanted.

“Down boy,” You playfully coo, letting your thumb slide across the rope in one hand to ground yourself and remind yourself who was in charge tonight. Especially when he growls again, his attachment clearly hard with the nodes on the sides lit up a bright red. “Remember who you belong to tonight.” You remind him.

But, God, does his cock look delicious. A black thick silicone with red textured mini spikes lining the sides as well as lit up nodes curling up to the head. Five inches long with a three-inch girth, it was plenty to take, Revenant always liked to watch your face contort trying to take him, but tonight you weren’t going to be taking him. No, no, you were going to make him cry with a toy and make him beg to have you.

The next steps are simple. Tying him up. The rope goes easily across metal, tying carefully between joints and pressing kisses where they meet. You tie him on his back, wrists to ankles and forcing his long legs up and apart with his wrists. Bound and exposed, his legs stay open and high, bent at the knee comfortably without it being too complicated. You praise him all during it, soft kisses on his ankles and wrists as you duck to the side to grab the toy and settle back in front of him.

The wiring on his inner thighs is always a go to so you start there. Caressing the thin wires that connect the joints to a thick metal core. He immediately tenses, mouth falling open to reveal sharp metal teeth and the way his throat echoes like a long hallway when he groans. You smirk a bit, tracing your fingers up closer to his hip where a thicker bundle of wires rest, letting him shake briefly as your nails trace up the inner silicone lining to form a hip bone.

His cock jerks with a gentle grunt in his throat. His cum reserves must have been full, considering a small bead of translucent red cum drips down his cock.

“What a good boy. Already filled without even being asked?” You begin small, letting your hands wander down his hips to the center of your attention. His hips attempt to come up to no avail in his exposed position, allowing you to trace one nail up his cock and watching it jerk again weakly. “You must have been thinking about this all day.”

The response to you is a weakened growl, a reverberating sound as if he was in a cave that trails off into a breathy, high sound. It doesn’t sound human, no surprise there, but it does make you grin.

A few pumps and he’s set on throwing his head back to huff to himself in pleasure. Revenant was always sensitive, had always been, you imagined centuries of no touch would do that to you. But, even now, it seems he’d be flushed all over if he could. He’d probably be fucking your fist at this rate if he could even move them, poor thing.

It’s not much more teasing before you glide the lubed fleshlight up the underside of his cock. Letting the faux lower lips frame him and sliding it up to the head. His hips twitch, his head jerking to the side and exposing the sensitive wirings of his throat with the shift of his cowl.

The wet slide of it on his cock is a tight, tight fit. Something that you can only imagine as your greedy eyes take in the crimson toy swallowing his thick shaft with a wet ‘shlick’ as it tightly envelops him. You can feel the way he jerks in it, watching the tips of his fingers curl against his ankles and his optics flickering a few times before seeming to buzz back to existence.

“Fuck-” He whines out, a shaky sound in his chest that sounds distant with the way his head rolls to the side and causes his wiring to shift for his voice box. “Fuck-- ” He croaks out again with a creak to his throat as you begin to shift the toy upwards to the head and slide it back down.

“That’s a good boy, that’s what I like to hear,” You praise him, feeling yourself affected as well as your breathing as you begin fucking the toy on him. Each wet slide is met with a wet, soft slap of the toy hitting his pelvis. The creak of the metal of his joints and how he whines and growls in soft, panted, breathless little noises. You about take him out when you twist the toy and slam it back down onto him, hearing him yowl much like an animal in heat.

“So pretty for me,” You continue with your own voice breathless, “So easy to make you feel good, my little toy.” You use the name carefully, eyes flickering to his face to gauge his reaction.

It’s positive, to say the least, where his head flings back and you know he’d be fucking into your grip if he could. Instead, he’s made to squirm and jerk in his bonds, panting heavily as you stroke him with the tight, wet little toy again and again.

“You sound beautiful, baby.” You murmur.

Just to watch him cry out and give the telltale signs he’s close. With low whines in his throat fading off to low, breathed out growls. Huffing and huffing until-

You stop.

And Revenant cries out like a wounded beast. Optics flickering until they land on you and he snarls like you’ve deprived him of his treat. You imagine he doesn’t like it when you smile, holding the fleshlight juuuust about the tip of his cock where he’s leaking the translucent fluid, shiny and wet from the toy and oh so wanting.

“Give. It. To. Me.” He snarls out each word like a threat. But kind of hard to be threatening with your dick so hard and you’re an exposed simulacrum tied up in pretty ropes.

“I want to hear you beg,” You grin in turn, tilting your head coyly when he snarls again. “I want to hear you say you’re my cutest fuck toy.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

Revenant scoffs before he pauses at your tone, tempting and low. His optics shift away briefly. Embarrassment would be hard to see in someone like him, but you can tell from the silence and the way he’s breathing despite not needing to. He had his safe words, he had his signals, but you have the feeling he’s not even thinking about those. Instead, you can see him trying not to be humiliated. So, you give him a little encouragement with a rub of the toy just to watch him shudder.

That sparks his brattiness. He tries to buck up to no avail, tries to roll and shake and hump, for not.

When that doesn’t work, he tries again, but adds in, “Please let me cum! Let me cum, goddamnit! Goddamn you- let me- let me cum!” He sounds so cute when he does it, desperate and wanting. You give him some slack, one pump of the toy just to get his hopes up and to hear him moan with static tracing the edges only to hold it just above the head again.

“Fuck!” He snarls, desperation dripping in his tone in an almost sob. Almost.

Your hand comes up, gripping his throat and pressing your thumb into the junction of his two thickest wires. A small amount of pressure on the thinner one makes him feel like he’s going to get light headed, a well pressed pressure point as you growl at him and begin jerking him with the toy in a nice, but not enough pace.

“You’re my favorite, cutest fuck toy. Say. It.” You punctuate each word with a harsh slam of the toy twice before holding it at the head. No matter how much he cries out and swears, you don’t move, letting his voice creak and crack until you release the wiring.

“I’m your cute-cutest fuck toy! I’m y-your- AH!” Revenant near about wails it out, only to choke when you begin fucking him with the toy earnestly. Letting his breaths come out in repeated, short snarls until he’s cumming with a long sound fading off into nothing.

The cum drips from the end of the toy into your hand. You give it a few more jerks for good measure, just to watch him jerk and huff in overstimulation before you slowly drag it off with a wet noise. You set it on the nightstand, telling yourself to deal with it later as you work the ropes off of him and set them to the side.

You lie down on your back, letting him come to you like a clingy little spider. One arm wraps around your middle, his head coming to rest on your chest as you cup the back of his neck and stroke the metal forming his spine. You caress him gently, gently nudging him for him to look up at you so you can kiss the flatness of his skeletal nose and smile at him.

“You did a good job, baby.” You murmur adoringly, kissing the corner of his mouth to match. “Thank you for indulging me. You feeling alright?”

“Just peachy.” His voice comes out as a hoarse growl, no doubt overusing his poor voice box. But even then, it makes you laugh, kissing his forehead once again.

“What about you?” He murmurs after a moment, his finger hooking into the thin waistband of your panties and making your cheeks flush. “Would be a damn shame to not put any of this to use...”

“Bold for someone who just said he was my fuck toy.” You cheekily toy back, watching his head snap up and his optics widening and thinning out in a quiet threat.

You’d pay for it later, but for now? For now he just grumbles, shoving his head back onto your chest.

Good boy.

#Revenant #Revenant x Reader #Apex legends #apex lemons #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing #WHY DID I HAVE SO MANY OLD BOPS HELLO?? THIS IS SO GOOD??

31 notes · View notes

anxiouslyfred · 3 years

Text

Moss Graffiti

Summary: Virgil was convinced his soulmate worked in nuclear power from the poem he got describing them. He’s about to learn how wrong that is, and how weirdly some corporations view graffiti.

/\/\

Virgil's soulmate had to do something in nuclear power. He was certain of it. Why else would his poem include the line 'Green pollution close to hand'?

Really he'd taken decades to reach that conclusion, trying to decide what it could mean. Pollution usually wasn't anything green at all, but from those Simpsons opening credits, to the glow shows always used for nuclear radiation, that had to be what was intended. Unless there was something else being done that corporations would try to claim as pollution, but that just opened too many trails for his thoughts to follow.

“Uneven floors present a trip hazard and either need indicating or fixing. That's the most important issue, I've found, shall we continue through the rest?” Virgil shook the momentary thoughts of his soulmate from his head, focusing back on the Health & Safety inspection he was doing.

The offices were just waiting for an accident to happen in a lot of places, and if he had to yell to actually get the manager to come over instead of the receptionist, he would be. There's no point booking him to conduct the inspection if they just wanted to ignore the issues raised in his report.

“Mr Furniss has requested you confirm if the pollution on the outer walls will need a specialist to remove.” The receptionist, Miss Mauby, asked, noting down his comments.

“I haven't noticed any pollution. Do you mind showing me the section he's referring to?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. There had been some graffiti on one of the walls near the entrance, but it hadn't looked like anything he'd need to take note of.

The wall he was led to pretty much guaranteed he would be storming back into the manager's office to give his report. Wasting his time demanding answers that a fool could tell was simply moss was absurd, despite the design and words showing it was all deliberately placed. Virgil already agreed that the company had a lot of issues it needed to be addressing, especially regarding the waste products being incorrectly disposed of at the factory site.

Turning to Miss Mauby he nodded, “I believe it would be best for me to give my initial review to Mr Furniss directly, and I'll send the report over in a matter of days.” He didn't wait for a reply, already returning to the building and the office that was indicated to belong to the site manager.

By the time Virgil was leaving the site, he'd begun to calm down and find it amusing. The manager of the place really did think that graffiti was pollution and not just unauthorised artwork. Perhaps they needed some language lessons to clear up the definition and impact of using the wrong terms. Science classes could help more though.

When he glanced back towards the moss words, he had to call over, “Better get away from there. I think Mr Furniss mentioned getting cameras set up to monitor their walls.”

“I'll find some other wall to protest on then. He can't monitor them all and ignores any emails or government mandates to follow the laws for disposal of contaminated waste.” The person called back, voice shrill and uncaring.

Virgil wandered closer, a little curious to know more. “How did you even manage it anyway? I didn't think you could control where or how moss grows.”

“I made moss paint and spray with water each afternoon. For this lot at least. I've got twenty other sites I do this too and commissions to take for peoples gardens occasionally.” Virgil began to worry he'd asked the wrong thing with the lack of energy compared to the person's original response before they jumped to face him, “I'm making nature fight back for itself when it can't speak. The moss, lichens and plants shall rise to destroy humanity with my aid!”

“Okay, cool, erm good luck with that. I'll leave you to it then.” Virgil backed away at the yell, startled and very concerned that if someone in the office came out to see him talking with the moss graffiti guy he could lose payment for his services.

It was only once he got home that Virgil thought whoever it was looking after that moss seemed to fill 3 of the 4 lines in his soul poem, especially with that companies boss claiming graffiti was pollution.

He checked while swapping his jacket for a hoodie and the idea only grew at the familiar lines:

Uncontrolled by any rule,

Dangerous Attitude, surface cool.

Green pollution close to hand.

Trust fleeting as the sand.

Virgil had gotten the poem as a tattoo as soon as he was old enough to. He didn't want anybody finding out what his poem was and the easiest way to ensure that was to keep the only record of it literally on him.

Perhaps they'd encounter each other again in the city. Virgil did have other gigs coming up for offices of corporations known to be major polluters.

/Over to the Graffiti Artist\

Remus had been curious about the guy who'd come over asking about his graffiti, but he got people running away from him. It happened often enough pretty much anytime he tried to make friends.

He pushed the curiosity out of his mind though, focusing on that morning's project. He was still cultivating the moss on the edge of an animal testing lab for a soaps company and needed to make sure he was using the right mosses so the creature yelling at the company was recognisable.

“Get Away from there! I'll call the police on you for doing-” The angry yelling cut off when the woman got close enough.

Remus smirked, not turning around, but well aware it looked like he was just painting water onto the wall with how diluted he'd made the moss-paint today. He'd expected someone to try and stop him and wasn't going to give away what he was doing, including the fact these were rare mosses that if it got out the company had removed would enrage some environmentalist charities.

“Well isn't this fun. Do you often greet contractors by yelling at someone painting the walls with water, or am I just special?” The curious guy from yesterday was back, and apparently ignoring Remus in favour of greeting the woman. It was an interesting way to try and stick up for him though.

None of the apologies she was now stuttering out got directed to him either, and Remus finally realised this was one of the managers of the building and the guy had to be some sort of contractor. Not that it mattered to him of course, guy got scared off by a tiny bit of excitement.

He was humming while working on an established moss garden that evening when the guy walked passed again, and seriously Remus was beginning to think some cosmic force wanted them to talk.

“How'd you get the different colours?” The guy actually stopped to ask, glancing over the patterns. Dull, boring spirals. Remus had a far more interesting moss garden on the outer walls of his apartment.

“Different mosses.” He replied, turning to get more water for his spray bottle. It wasn't necessary, but he didn't feel like watching someone try to escape him currently.

The guy stayed waiting there, long enough Remus couldn't avoid returning to his work. “I'm Virgil by the way. He/Him. Sorry about that bitch this morning. She really needs to focus more on adequate safety railings and less on how the building looks. Aesthetic is not worth health hazards!” He sort of ranted, definitely trying to make conversation.

“I'm Remus and you're already scared of me, so I don't think you want to hear my actual views. Bugger off to screw in a H&S approved fallout bunker or something.” Remus interrupted before he could say anything else.

“No need to be a jerk, and sorry I'm not interested in losing a paycheck because the boss of a building is an asshole. Yelling and getting attention when I've just finished a place that specifically tried to call your work a biohazard could easily have the company finding some way out of paying for aiding a vandal or whatever.” Virgil snapped back, glaring. “I just wanted to know more because your work looks awesome, but fine, I'll leave asking more for some other day.”

Remus scoffed, throwing his spray bottle to one side and turning, “Yeah, when you decide I'm invisible again because I'm near one of those building's that's contracting you to yell at them. Fantastic chance to ask questions when you won't even glance my way.”

His words must have trigger some confusing thought process for Virgil as his right hand jumped to covering his left forearm, almost brushing over it in an odd pattern. He watched for a moment before turning back to checking the outlines were still clear.

“I can't put my chances of making the rent at stake, but fine, next time I see you I'll find time to stop and at least say hi. I'm going to get to know you, Remus. You can trust me on that, whether you believe it or not.” The words were threatening, and Remus wanted to come up with some actual threats Virgil could have used, but still didn't want to watch him run away.

“Only the naïve trust people instantly. Or the people wanting to use you and twist you into a different shape. I'm neither of those and the only time someone else controls how I twist is when they're bending me over.” He dismissed the promise and started humming again, pretending to focus on his work.

If they spoke for much longer of course he'd say something to have this brittle connection thoroughly sever.

That night Remus was still wondering about Virgil. How concerned he sounded over losing pay, and some vague terrible happening that could follow it.

There was definitely something of his soulmate poem in how the man was speaking and acting, but it just felt like another thing for Remus to hope for and end up destroying.

He had to listen to that old song again, if only to confirm it couldn't be Virgil at all:

Lashing out just to be heard

Worry infusing every word.

Cautious but convinceable,

Dreams their friends invincible.

/Days passing by\

The warning Virgil had given on the first time they encountered each other had been proven right. That company had put up cameras over the footpaths on the buildings, with only a few sections left clear of surveillance.

Remus had refreshed his free-running skills enough to get up onto one of the ledges. He wasn't expecting to get yelled at to get down and that it wasn't safe while checking if there was another layer of moss-paint needed or not.

“Virgil, you're really going to attract attention if you don't quiet down.” Remus sing-songed, leaning to look down from the ledge he was stood on, and grinning at the glare he was being given.

He wasn't expecting Virgil to walk a few steps back before launching himself up the wall. “And you're going to do yourself a freaking injury. Is constantly climbing up here really necessary for you to get the message across?”

“Yes, they're going to keep having the message painted until the listen and actually sort out the waste disposal of the factory.” Remus nodded. Virgil had been speaking to him, and actually seeking out the places Remus would turn up ever since threatening to get to know him. “Besides, a suicide on the property with this message growing afterwards would definitely make the news, get public interest sparked over everything they're doing wrong. Sounds like the perfect storm for them to face.”

“Except the part where you die. Not allowed. You act like you're invincible and I wish to whoever's listening you were.” Virgil snapped, and snatched the brush from Remus's hands for some reason. “Come on, tell me where I'm painting this one, and I'll help. Sooner you get this done, the sooner I can get you safely down from here!”

Remus blinked at the change, wondering whether this was what 'cautious but convinceable' meant before shaking it off. “That's for the darker bits. Currently just look like some discolouring. I'll do the pale bits since the difference for those can't be made out yet. Why would you want me to be invincible anyways? Most people would be glad to see something break me, even if they wouldn't wish me dead. A sever injury, maybe causing paralysis, and they'd all sigh knowing where I am and thinking they could control how much trouble I cause.”

“Sounds like you know a ton of jerks then. You're my Friend Remus. Not many people can say that and I'm not going to let you jeopardise my friend's life all to make a point against horrible business practices.” Virgil lectured, already following the lines, although his shoulders were so tense Remus wondered how his movements with the brush could be so fluid.

In more interesting news that literally sounded like the 2 lines Remus had mentally been insisting couldn't relate to Virgil had fallen into place and suddenly fitted him perfectly. He was singing the soul poem without thinking it, performing a short dance when he realised Virgil was staring.

“So are you writing poems about me now or is that, you know?” Virgil muttered a few moments after he finished singing.

“My soul Poem!” Remus squealed and the only thing that stopped him bouncing was Virgil's eyes quickly falling to his feet. The edge was close behind him and he wasn't going to fall after deciding that Virgil was his soulmate. “Seems to be perfect for you, right?!”

Virgil just nodded, shoving up the sleeve of his jacket and holding the arm out to Remus. “Get away from the edge, read this and have a laugh at what the manager of this place called your art.”

The tattoo was brilliant, with letters that looked like they were bleeding, and thorns twisting together to frame it. Realising the poem actually did describe him only made it better.

“So we are simply meant to be.” Remus grinned.

At least he knew this health and safety inspector wasn't completely against breaking the rules occasionally, at least if it meant they could keep each other safe instead.

#dukexiety #soulmate au #virgil sanders #remus sanders #moss graffiti #graffiti artist remus #H&S inspector virgil

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afternoonpoppy · 3 years

Text

Camping

Poppy awakens from her slumber, aaaaaa! This was for a commission but also something I’d wanted to sit down and write for a looong while, so this finally got me to do it and I’m glad for that. This turned out longer than I expected but I had fun writing it, so I hope it turned out well!

A bit of a chill had started to creep into the night air, but Allister hardly minded at all. Being sat by a modestly-sized campfire with Wolfram beside him, there was plenty of warmth to go around. And besides, Allister was camping again!

Sort of, anyway - it was honestly more of a meetup with friends for the evening, and they weren't even more than a twenty-minute walk from Allister's house. But the group had gotten a fire together, brought out a cooler with drinks, and even found some sizable logs to sit on. Allister preferred fold-out chairs, but his cousin Sadie had insisted it would make the whole night more 'authentic.' Plus, it did allow Wolfram and Allister to sit closer together. In all, they'd ended up with about nine people gathered together, some of them being mutual friends of Allister and Sadie, with others being acquaintances invited by said friends. The total was 'about' nine since Allister's coworker Vincent had shouted that they were going on an impromptu snack-run to the nearest convenience store thirty minutes ago.

"Honestly, I don't know what she was expecting to happen," Sadie was saying very emphatically from across the campfire. While the group had split off into their own conversations and activities, she'd recruited Allister and Wolfram into listening to the evening's third rant about the obnoxious roommate she'd been putting up with for the past while. "Like, she was gonna yell at me and then just expect me to finish cleaning up the apartment for her? I am under no obligation to do her laundry, thank you very much."

Marcus, the other of Allister's two coworkers that had been invited, walked over to take a seat by the fire just in time to catch what was being discussed and followed up with, "I mean, you gotta remember, Sadie. This is the same girl that thought she'd just hand in a Wikipedia article for one of her college assignments. You think she thinks this stuff through?"

Allister's eyebrows furrowed as he stared into the fire and tried to parse that statement. "Wait, as in she plagiarized a Wikipedia article, right?" Surely Marcus hadn't literally meant -

"I mean, I guess it's still plagiarism if you download an entire Wikipedia page and send it to your professor, yeah."

Oh. Allister nodded, struggling for something to say to that, but quickly gave up. Even if that anecdote weren't so absurd that it demanded speechlessness, he'd been content to let his friends steer the conversations of the night. Allister was just glad to hear what they'd been up to as of late, as well as to have a chance to sit outside and enjoy the wilderness. Crickets chirped in the trees of the woods and stars coated the sky up above, making a beautiful sight.

That sight had been one of his favorite things about moving out here from the city. The other being that he'd been able to meet Wolfram. Wolfram who had spent the first part of the evening nearly dozing off by the fire after the walk to the group's meetup spot, but looked to have regained some energy now that he'd been sitting down for a while. He hadn't bothered to take part in the conversation much either and had also been focusing on either the fire or the stars for most of the night. Allister wasn't very surprised, though. Considering this was the first time Wolfram had properly interacted with... anyone else in this world in person, Allister was just glad to get him out of the house. Getting into the car was still a no-go, but perhaps that would be another day.

"So, Wolfram, what do you do, anyway? You work, doing the whole 'actually trying to learn' thing, what?" Sadie asked abruptly, apparently letting the previous topic rest for now. "I don't think Allister's ever mentioned."

Allister's eyes widened and he glanced at Wolfram. The two had long ago decided not to mention the whole... 'magic and other worlds' situation to other people for any number of reasons. Not least of all being concerns as to what sort of attention Wolfram would draw as a (somewhat, at least) practiced spellcaster. It wasn't as if the pair hadn't discussed what their cover story would be to other people, but it hadn't come up very much as of yet and Allister couldn't help but worry.

Still, Wolfram seemed unphased by the question and smoothly answered, "I'm a writer. Primarily focusing on short fiction at the moment."

"Whoa, cool," Sadie said with a grin. "What do you write, like, romance, fantasy, sci-fi? Romance? I'm into romance if you've got any of that."

"Apologies, no. It is fantasy, my current project is a series of stories taking place in the same setting, so right now much of my time working on it is spent on world-building."

Allister was impressed at Wolfram's confidence in that answer. Sadie nodded, reaching into the cooler near her for a drink. "Neat. I don't actually read a whole lot, so no promises, but I'll try and give it a look when it's done. Either of you guys wants a beer?" She held up an extra can and tapped on the side with one nail.

"No, thank you," Wolfram said.

Allister shrugged. "Yeah, sure, I'll have one."

Sadie aimed to toss it to Allister but realized the fire between them might pose a problem. Rather than stand up and walk around it, she settled for instead trying to throw the can around the fire at an awkward angle, which resulted in it flying off to the side and rolling across the ground a bit. Marcus stared at Sadie with eyebrows raised.

"Uh, I think we can let that one settle there for a while," Allister said, standing from his seat to grab a can from the cooler. "Let's not ask you to throw things when you've had alcohol."

Sadie objected by holding up her freshly-opened can and saying, "Hey, this is my first one, Alli!"

"That was a sober throw?" Wolfram asked.

"Wait, shit. Okay, yeah, let's say I was drunk for that."

For a while longer, the conversation shifted back and forth through various topics among the group. Eventually, though, Allister glanced over to the trees around the campsite. He leaned closer to Wolfram and asked, "Hey, you wanna go for a walk?"

"A walk?" Wolfram leaned against Allister's shoulder. "Where did you intend to go?"

"Nowhere, in particular. I just wanted to stretch my legs and get away from the fire for a bit. We don't gotta go far."

Wolfram thought for a moment, then said, "We walked here and have to do so again to get home, so I would rather not. Feel free to enjoy yourself, though, so long as you don't end up lost."

"You sure?"

"I'm not frightened of people, Allister," Wolfram said with a smile. "I can handle any questions your cousin directs at me. Either that or I can ask her something about her housemate and let her talk for another thirty minutes."

"Hmm, I guess so. Alright then, if you're sure. I'll make sure I can still see the fire anyway." Allister stood up, stretching a bit, noting that Sadie and Marcus had both wandered off to the rest of the group and were yelling into someone's phone at Vincent, demanding they return from whatever had distracted them on their snack run. Allister had meant to tell them he'd be back shortly but figured he wouldn't disrupt anything if he just stepped away from the campsite.

Once he'd gotten some distance away, he noticed how quiet it was out in the woods. He hadn't been aware of the background noise his social circle's chatter made until he could hear the contrast in nature's quiet cricket chirps. It was nice out here. Much more Allister's pace than when he lived out in the city with his family, but this was the first time he'd taken the time to stop and appreciate it even after moving out here.

He leaned back against a tree, occasionally sipping the beer he'd brought with him, and started searching the stars for any constellations he knew. The answer was none, he'd always been terrible at telling constellations apart and never knew where one ended and another began, but at least they were pretty.

Allister's thoughts were interrupted, unfortunately, as a strong hiccup shook through his chest. 'HUP!' He raised a hand to his chest in surprise and instinctively tried to muffle the next 'HMK!' to follow, his own hiccups startling him as they broke the silence.

"Why n - HULP - now..." he mumbled to himself. As usual, Allister's hiccups were fast and obnoxiously loud. Considering it was almost unheard of for his cases to start up with no reason, he cast an accusatory look at the beer can in his hand. "Thi - HUC - this is you - HIC - your fault - HUC-UP!" He sighed - or tried to with yet another hiccup interrupting - and turned his attention back up to the stars.

Allister had planned to try to wait out his hiccups in the hopes they'd stop on their own. He preferred not to return to the party only to be a distraction for everyone. Unfortunately, he did wait for some time, looking back at the campfire now and then and eventually checking his phone to see that almost fifteen minutes had passed. It was becoming apparent that just the same as the hiccups didn't typically start without reason, they wouldn't stop on their own anytime soon either.

Allister grimaced at that thought. He had wanted to be back by now, but here he was instead, without even so much as a bottle of water to try to solve the problem. He hated what he was contemplating, but he hated leaving Wolfram on his own even more. So, without putting too much thought into what a terrible decision he was making, Allister inhaled deeply and held his breath. In the past, that had always been a terrible idea, but maybe that had always been a coincidence?

Successfully holding his breath with hiccups leaping through his chest every other second proved to be more difficult than he remembered, and it felt like he ran out of air much faster than he would have otherwise. And he was forced to give up that effort and breathe fresh air when his hiccups abruptly became faster.

Allister immediately regretted his decision. "Wa - HUP - wait - HUC-UP - please ju - HIC! HIGK - just - HUK-ULP - h-hold on - HIC!" His attempt at talking his hiccups into calming down did little to help. Even worse, they had gotten stronger and were starting to hurt now. Allister would have said it was because his own body seemingly wanted him to suffer, but he knew this was his mind's fault instead, for thinking holding his breath might seriously work this time.

"Allister?"

Allister jumped when he realized Wolfram was now standing next to him. When that had happened, he had no idea. "Fr - HUP! HIC-ULP! - Fram, I - HUC-UP! HIGK! - what - HIC!"

Wolfram reached out and patted Allister gently on his back, a look of concern on his face. "Everyone at the fire is currently engaged in a round of trivia about media that is flying completely over my head, so I thought I would come to find you. And it didn't take me very long to hear where you were... Are you alright? Those sound worse than usual, somehow."

Unable to form anything even remotely close to a proper sentence at the moment, Allister could only answer with, "B - HIGK-UP - bad ch - HIC! HUC-ULP - choices - HUP!"

"I'm not sure what that - oh. Allister, did you try to stop them by holding your breath?"

Allister nodded.

"Haven't you told me that's the one thing you absolutely cannot do?"

Allister answered with another nod and a whine between hiccups.

"And why in the world would you do that?" Wolfram asked. "From what I was last aware, there are plenty of drinks available that you could have cured them with instead. That's at least had a partial success rate before."

At first, Allister contemplated how to phrase the answer in a way that his hiccups would allow, then settled for pulling up a note app on his phone and typing. 'I didn't want to bother anybody. My hiccups aren't exactly subtle.'

Wolfram stared at the message, thinking. "I hardly think anyone present tonight would mind as much as you think. You honestly did not need to make yourself suffer like this."

'Suffer' sounded melodramatic, but considering he was still putting up with nonstop hiccup after hiccup, Allister figured it wasn't exactly wrong. 'I know it was a dumb idea. But everyone's having fun, and I didn't want to be a problem.'

"Honestly, Allister, you worry too much about these things..." Wolfram sighed. "Though I... have also hidden in a crate to avoid being seen with hiccups, so... perhaps I am not the best person to hear this from."

"You - HIGK-ULP - what?" Allister asked, too surprised by that statement to bother typing his response on his phone.

Staring down at the ground and fidgeting a bit, Wolfram mumbled, "I, um, it was rarely an issue back home but I... did have a particularly stubborn case at one point and... Hiding away until they stopped seemed ideal..."

"But a - HUC! HIC - a crate?"

"It - I panicked, I was in one of the Academia Arcana's storerooms to retrieve spell materials and - and I heard someone outside the door - the details aren't important. My point is, I do understand but don't do this sort of thing to yourself in the future, please."

Allister appreciated the thought, smiling at Wolfram and nodding. "Don't w - HUP! HIC-UP - worry, I - HIC - I won't."

"Good. Now then, I'll fetch you some water. Wait here, I'll be quick about it."

After a minute or two, Wolfram returned with a bottle of water, which Allister accepted gladly, trying and failing to state his gratitude, "Th - HIGK - thank y - HULP - you, F - HUC-ULP - Fra -"

"Just drink it," Wolfram interrupted.

Allister did so, drinking the water in quick gulps between each hiccup. It took a few tries, but eventually, they slowed down somewhat and finally came to a stop entirely. He waited for a few seconds, still unsure if he'd genuinely been cured at first, but then finally sighed with relief.

"Better?"

"Much," Allister said. "Thanks, Fram."

Wolfram smiled and leaned his weight against Allister's side. "Very good. Shall we be returning to the camp?"

"Hmm..." Allister wrapped an arm around Wolfram's shoulder. "It is getting a bit cold, huh? I guess we should." He paused for a moment, then added, "But... Hey, how about we have a real camping trip sometime soon?"

"We won't have an oven for you to cook proper meals, then," Wolfram objected.

"I mean, I guess not. But you've never had s'mores before. Those are best when they're toasted over a campfire."

"I've heard of those... what are they?"

"Chocolate and marshmallows, Fram."

Wolfram's eyes widened at the statement, clearly intrigued. "When is your next day off? We can do it then."

Allister laughed and hugged Wolfram closer. "Okay, we'll talk about it when we get home. C'mon, let's head back to the camp before Sadie comes to chase us down."

#Poppy Writes #wolfram and allister #hiccup kink #hiccups #alcohol

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vulpescarmine · 3 years

Text

Okay, so, maybe everyone had already figured it out, but I was watching The Umbrella Academy's E01S01 with some friends, and one of them got bogged down about the Five time trip, and I thought about how to explain it and I felt super smart, so I decided to share my thoughts to, you know, kind of brag (like that?) So, for me, Five didn't really make a miscalculation, he went back to a thirteen year old body because of the method he used to be able to travel in time. Here's how: The original timeline of the series is one in which, in 2002, Five ran away from home and traveled back in time, got stuck in the Apocalypse, but did not return home (if you observe, in Apocalypse, Five finds everyone's body except Vanya, Ben, and his body, which means he never came back in that timeline, if he had, he would have his body).

So Five spends 45 years in the Apocalypse and then goes back in time and goes to 2019. He says he had to project his conscience into a version of himself that exists in all possible instances of time, right? So, he returned to the 13-year-old body because, in that timeline, until 2019, he only existed until he was thirteen. Like, he didn't transport his body in time, just his consciousness, so his consciousness projected into the last physical body that Five had in that timeline, which was thirteen years old, when he ran away.

By the way, if anyone ever asked himself (because I already did), Five would have no way of knowing if the destroyed moon was what caused the Apocalypse when he was in prison because it probably wasn't how the world ended the first time. You notice that, in that Apocalypse where Five got stuck, Luther was holding Harold Jenkins' eye, which indicates that at some point they fought, and there was no body of Vanya; if the moon had set fire to the earth, it would have her body, but it doesn't. I can imagine that, to cause this Apocalypse, Vanya literally served as a time bomb: his powers exploded and destroyed the earth, destroying his body in the process as a bomb does with the metal that surrounds it.

When Five time travels and appears in 2019 on the day of Reginald's funeral, he appears at a time when he didn't exist before, causing a change, which originated a new timeline. In this new timeline, in the Apocalypse, Five would die if he were stuck there because he would not be able to live in a world without a moon and he would not find the bodies of his brothers.

So they travel to the 60's and, again, they exist where they didn't exist before, causing a change again and creating another timeline (without the Five), so 2019 doesn't even exist because they caused the Apocalypse in 1963. So Five appears and gets into the story, again appearing where he was not before, which creates another timeline (if it were the same, Five would have found himself when he found the brothers fighting the Soviets). After that they still cause several changes, like when they find their father, but they do not create another timeline, because the only point where this could happen, would be when Diego goes to the Commission and finds out how Vanya causes the Apocalypse, but he goes back to a time when he has been in existence for months, so I think he does not create another timeline right now.

So, they travel forward in 2019, being in the last timeline created, which is the one that they existed in Dallas in the 60s and avoid the Apocalypse at that time, and then they find the Sparrow Academy which is a consequence of having spoken to the father in the past. So, technically, to get back to their 2019, Umbrella Academy would need to travel to another timeline. The question is, is this possible?

Probably not, and following this logic, it also explains why the Commission is so concerned with following the “original roadmap”. Every little change that anyone makes can change big or small events that can lead to the creation of new timelines. The question of this is that - I don't know if this is really possible, I understand absolutely nothing about quantum physics, mathematics, or whatever the subject that covers this subject - if these timelines are so close to each other that they try to coexist, kind of that if they merge, it would give a really big shit that I don't know how to explain, but it would give a huge bug, for sure. But if that is not possible, I still don't understand why the Commission cares so much about it (don't ask me how the hell the Commission knows the supposed “original script”, my mind can't go too far lol KKKKK).

In conclusion, to get back to the version as similar as possible to the 2019 version they know, they would need to travel to the 60s again and prevent themselves from interfering in the story, creating another timeline that will be very similar to the beginning, but not the same (no matter what they do, it will never be the same as the first, there will always be small or big things that will change - this following the time travel logic used in The Flash, which I think fits Yours because the way Barry kind of "opens" a "portal" to travel through the space-time "tunnel" is very similar to how Five travels through space-time, I think).

Besides, if you think about it, Sparrow Academy probably won't be the only problem for the Hargreeves, although, in that timeline, they existed in the 60s, their birth in 1989 was not prevented, so there are other adult versions of themselves wandering around - maybe they'll meet? That would be very strange, very crazy and very incredible, lol.

Anyway, I wandered a lot from my starting point, but it was good to expose my thoughts, there is something gratifying about that, whatever. Tell me what you think, I'll be happy to hear it, and any mistake is the fault of the translator, ksksksks. Kisses from Brazil ✌🏻

#the umbrella academy #vanya hargreeves #number five #time travel #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #season one #season two #multiple timelines #what the fuck

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chinateacup · 3 years

Text

Commission for @asrasdarling

So thankful to @asrasdarling for being such a lovely customer. This commission was super delayed thanks to covid 19, but it’s all ready now! 3k of fluff with MC and Asra having fun with their friends!

Fandom: The Arcana

Characters: Asra, Nadia, Julian, Portia, Muriel, OC

Pairings: Asra/OC, (briefly implied Nadia/Portia)

No rating required

“Camping trip, camping trip, camping trip!”

Julian groaned, tipping his head back. “Pasha, I am begging you to stop chanting that.”

“Come on, Ilya,” Asra shifted the bag on his back, and nudged him with his elbow. “Maybe she’s worried we’ll forget why we’re here.”

“Yes, thank you very much, Portia,” Jenna smiled. She had a picnic basket in her arms. “That explains all the luggage and tents.”

The fields surrounding Vesuvia were beautiful, of course, and usually, Jenna would jump at the offer of a walk in them. But as she was discovering, in the middle of summer, the yellow grass was glaring, and the heat haze made her eyes hurt. The sun beat down heavily on the group of five, and she wiped her brow, gulping water from the canteen Asra had packed. She’d insisted she wouldn’t need it. Thank goodness he’d ignored her.

Despite the punishing weather, Portia still grinned, swinging her arms as she led the way. “You are welcome for the reminder. Come on, it’s just round the corner.”

“Traitors,” Julian muttered. “Both of you.”

“Are we nearing this little spot of yours, Portia?” Nadia called from the back of the party. “I don’t feel it’s fair to let poor Muriel carry all this much longer.”

Jenna looked over her shoulder, and winced. Muriel’s torso had practically vanished under the sheer number of bags slung around his shoulders, not to mention the ones piled high in his arms. Suddenly her picnic basket felt much lighter.

“I don’t mind,” he said quietly. Jenna believed it; he hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“Not to worry, milady, because…” Portia ducked under a branch that proceeded to smack Julian in the chest.

“Ouch!”

“Shush you. Let’s see… it should be right around… aha!” She ran forward past a line of trees into a clearing. Jenna followed close behind, tugging Asra after her, and gasped.

Pine trees surrounded them, the shade cool and welcome against her skin. A tiny rock pool babbled on the edge of the clearing, half hidden among a thick cluster of purple wild flowers. The yellowed grass had given way to mossy cobblestone, cracked and slippery, with the odd tiny sprig growing between the slabs.

Asra sighed blissfully, tilting his face towards the sky like a satisfied cat. “This place is beautiful,” Jenna whispered, and he hummed in agreement.

“Ta-da!” Portia gestured with a wide sweep of the arm. “Was it worth the trek?”

“It’s incredible,” Julian blinked at his surroundings and dropped his bags at his feet. “When on Earth did you find it?”

“Oh, y’know,” she shrugged. “I used to come here to blow off steam about… stuff.” She glanced over her brother briefly, smile wavering, before it returned in full force. “…But that’s all solved now, so no reason not to share it! And we’ll get a perfect view of the meteor shower tonight!”

Nadia beamed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you for sharing it with us, Portia. We’re very grateful to you.”

Portia shrugged the compliment off, giggling. “Yeah, well, it’s – it’s no big thing,” she protested weakly, though her face had gone very red.

Jenna glanced at Asra. He winked knowingly.

Near the treeline, Muriel had already set up three tents on the cobblestone, tracing a protection rune in chalk in front of each one. An old habit, and one that he didn’t seem to be growing out of any time soon. Jenna set her picnic basket down while the Devoraks struggled to spread out a blanket, squabbling over which of them was twisting it the wrong way.

She exhaled slowly, and left them in favour of the rock pool. The water looked clean and clear, so she rolled up the hem of her pants, and sat on a large rock to soak her tired feet.

Asra sat right beside her, smiling softly. “You okay, Jen?”

“Yeah,” she replied, yawning. “Worn out.”

“It was a long walk,” he agreed, kicking away his boots and dipping his feet as well. His lips parted in a soft sigh, kicking his legs slowly. “This place kinda reminds me of Kitha.”

“Kitha?” Jenna leant her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes.

“I never told you about Kitha?” Asra chuckled, breath tickling her hair. “It must have been years ago now… Such a cute town. I spent a few weeks down there one Summer. It was burning hot and in the middle of nowhere, and so, so gorgeous. So dry they could build their houses out of tightly packed sand, like an igloo.”

“Mm hm.” With her head pressed against him, Jenna could hear how Asra’s voice rumbled soothingly in his chest. His arm had found its way around her waist, thumb stroking her hip in slow circles.

“Anyway, when I told them I was a magician, they got really excited. One of them literally grabbed me by my collar, and dragged me to their mayor’s house. I thought I might choke.” Jenna smiled weakly at the image, half asleep. “When I got there, the mayor begged me to help them with their drought. It hadn’t rained there for years, and there was only one small well for the whole town to share.”

“Hang on,” Jenna opened her eyes. “You’ve told me this one.”

Asra blinked at her. “Have I?”

“Yeah, a couple of times. The owner of the well had made a deal with a demon so no rain would fall in the town, and people would have to pay to take his water, right?”

“Oh. Yes.” He thought for a moment, before brightening. “Okay, but have I told you about when I first visited Prakra?”

“When Nadia’s sister didn’t recognise you and tried to have you arrested for breaking into the palace?”

Asra bit his lip. “…Kamanar?”

“You convinced Muriel to come with you and they mistook him for a minor deity.” Jenna grinned, pressing their foreheads together. “I know all your stories, my love.”

“That can’t be true! I’ve taken so many trips…”

“And you’ve talked my ear off about them all,” she tucked a curl behind his ear, cradling his face in one hand. “As well you should.”

“Right, I have a goal for this camping trip,” Asra placed a hand on his heart, and his other on Jenna’s. “I swear that by tomorrow morning, I will find a story I have never told you.”

“Aw, just what every relaxing vacation needs. A time-based challenge.”

He giggled, cupping her jaw and kissing her softly. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair, and he sighed against her lips, pulling her into his lap. The kiss broke, and Jenna looked down at Asra, flushed and staring up at her with an expression of wonder.

“Excuse me?” Nadia’s voice broke them from their trance. The group was already halfway through their picnic, sat around a blanket that (despite all odds) had been spread out quite nicely. She gave them a wry smile. “I hate to interrupt a tender moment, but you should know that I can only protect your share of the cookies for so long.”

“Ooh, tasty.” Asra stood, not even a little embarrassed, and tugged Jenna over by the hand. They sat crossed-legged on the blanket, and he stuck a pastry under Muriel’s nose. He went slightly cross-eyed trying to look at it. “Muri, please eat the tarts. We packed them for you.”

He rolled his eyes, but took it anyway. “Thanks.”

Asra grinned, holding one up to Jenna’s face as well. She smiled, tucking her hair out of the way before taking a bite. “Thank you,” she said around the mouthful.

“You’re welcome,” he winked. “So, Jenna and I were talking, and she seems to think I’ve told her all of my stories.”

“Well, that can’t be true,” Julian poured boiling water over a tea bag, bobbing it up and down by the string, “because I happen to know hundreds of Asra stories. Jenna, have you heard the one where the two of us broke into the palace’s wine cellar in the dead of the night –”

“The Count brought a party in there, and you hid in a barrel for three hours before climbing out of the window with half a dozen bottles stuffed down your pants.” Jenna quirked a brow, smirking. “That all you got, Doc?”

“Oh, she’s good.”

Asra groaned, burying his face in his hands. Nadia leaned over to pat his shoulder. “Come now, don’t look like that. I think it’s rather sweet you know one another so well.”

“Yeah, milady’s right,” Portia took a look sip from what looked like a cup of lemonade. “I mean, that’s what everyone wants in a relationship, isn’t it? Someone who knows all your stories.”

“I will find a new story,” Asra straightened, voice determined. “Mark my words, I will find Jenna a story.”

“Alright, what now?”

“You twist it.”

“I can’t twist it.”

“Twist it.”

“It’s already twisted!” Julian huffed, holding a very wilted bunch of purple wildflowers. “I’m not very good at this.” Muriel snorted in response.

Jenna bit her lip, trying to fold and twist the stems into a crown like he’d showed them. Asra looked down at her lap. “You’ve… almost got it.”

She pouted. “I really don’t.”

He smiled, placing his own creation on her head. The flowers were a little loose, but they held in place nicely. “This is a good colour on you.”

Jenna smiled gently, before breathing a sigh. “Okay, tell me why.”

Asra blinked. “Why what?”

“Why is it so important I haven’t heard all your stories?” Jenna dropped her crown in her lap. “Portia’s right. Isn’t it a good thing that we know each other so well?”

He shrugged half-heartedly. “I don’t know. You deserve a good story.”

“And you have given me more than enough. What is it? Are you sad about losing your ‘wandering magician’ reputation since we settled down?”

“Don’t be silly,” Asra chuckled, guiding her hands to help weave the flower stems together. “I happen to like my ‘always doting on his apprentice magician’ title much more. Though let’s be honest, at this point you could be my teacher.”

Jenna snorted, despite the blush she felt creeping up her face. “You should be so lucky.”

“Yeah, I should,” he grinned shamelessly, but his eyes were still distant. “Look, I just think that… if you know all my stories, and I definitely know all of yours, then where does that leave us?”

She frowned, distantly registering Portia celebrating her finished wreath. “What do you mean?”

Asra shrugged helplessly, not quite meeting her gaze and fumbling with the petals of a flower. “We’re finally done getting to know each other.”

If his voice hadn’t been so earnest, Jenna probably would have burst out laughing. She smiled widely instead, restraining herself. “Asra, I’ve known you for years. We’ve been partners for years! I’d like to think I know you pretty damn well!”

“But what happens now?” He asked, scratching his head. “With us, I mean. Now that we know each other.”

“We keep getting to know each other,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “People don’t stop growing, and they don’t stop changing, no matter how well you know them. Look at Muriel. You thought you knew him inside and out; doesn’t he still find ways to surprise you?”

“Surprise me?” Asra laughed. “A year ago if you’d told me he’d come on a trip like this, I’d have had a heart attack.”

“Oof, that would’ve been bad for us,” Jenna winced, clutching at her chest with one hand. He swatted it away, giggling.

“Hey, speaking of!” Asra beamed at Muriel as he trundled over to them. “A surprise.”

Jenna snickered, and Muriel looked between them, confused, before clearly deciding it wasn’t worth dwelling on. “Do you need any help?”

“Not at all,” she smiled, holding up her very loose, very messy, not at all connected flower crown. Well, it was more of a chain really.

He looked it over with a very serious expression, chewing his lip thoughtfully. A few flowers fell away. Asra giggled.

“It’s, um…” Muriel took a moment to find the right words. “It’s terrible.”

“Yeah,” Jenna nodded. “It’s great.”

“It’s perfect,” Asra agreed vigorously. “We should have it pressed and framed. Hang it behind the counter.”

“Please don’t do that,” Nadia called over. She was wearing her own finished crown. Of course it was lovely. “I don’t mean any offense, really, but I must say it out of concern for your business.”

“Aw, don’t feel bad, Jen!” Portia plopped herself down next her, and perched her grass wreath on Muriel’s head. He blushed, mumbling his thanks. “Ilya made some art as well. I call it ‘Very Dead Flowers.’”

Asra smirked. “I’d call it something else.”

Julian pouted, cradling two wilted stems in his hands that could have been flowers once. It was hard to tell. “I really did try my best!”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Poor flowers never saw it coming,” Jenna said solemnly.

“Oh, leave him be,” Nadia tutted, removing her own wreath and placing it gently on his head. “There. Now no one will ever know.”

Julian flushed beet red, barely stammering his way through a thank you before Portia groaned loudly. “Yeah, yeah, real cute of you. Who has the best crown though?”

“Yeah, Muriel,” Asra backed her up, nudging his friend on the arm. “Who’s the winner?”

He blinked. “Was… this a contest?”

“It is now, apparently.” Jenna motioned with her hand. “So who won?”

“I, um…” Muriel shrugged half-heartedly. “Nadia won.”

“Ah, I think you’re confused,” Nadia said smoothly, shaking her head. “I was not taking part in the competition. I do, however, feel that Julian’s crown is particularly lovely.”

Julian blinked. “Wait, what?”

“No, you can’t do that!” Portia puffed out her cheeks, huffing. “That’s cheating! He couldn’t even make a start!”

“Well that makes no sense,” Nadia tilted her head, smiling playfully. “If he couldn’t make a start, where did the crown come from?”

“You gave it to him!”

“Nah, Nadi’s right,” Asra winked at Jenna. “Congrats, Ilya.”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” she nodded quickly. “Good job.”

“Cheats!” Portia pointed between Nadia and her brother accusingly. “Dirty cheats, the lot of you!”

“Thank you very much,” Julian grinned smugly at Muriel, tipping the crown like a hat. “I will wear this victory like a badge of honour.”

Muriel didn’t return the smile. “You didn’t win.”

“Shush now.”

“Nadia did.”

“I won.”

Asra leaned over to whisper in Jenna’s ear. “We both know who really won, right?”

“Of course we do,” she replied. “I did.”

“Obviously.”

“Is everybody comfortable?” Nadia lay back beside Portia, head resting against a plush cushion. The sun had long set, but it still wasn’t dark. The summer sky was lit up with stars, scattered like gems across dark blue velvet. It made Jenna grateful they’d hiked all the way out to the fields; in Vesuvia, the stars had fallen to earth and arranged themselves neatly on a circular grid. Not that she didn’t like the brightness and bustle of the city, but it wasn’t exactly the best place to view a meteor shower.

Asra was laid on his back, legs stretched out, hands folded on his belly. Jenna lay beside him and linked their arms together just as a comet started to trail across the sky.

Portia made a squeak of excitement. “There’s the first one! Quick, make a wish!”

“Two steps ahead of you, Pasha,” Julian bumped his shoulder against Muriel’s. “What did you wish for, big guy?”

Muriel’s brow furrowed. “Can’t say.”

“Oho, keeping secrets are we?” Julian crooked a brow, pouting slightly. “And here I thought we were becoming friends.”

Jenna chuckled. “No, Julian, you can’t tell someone what you wished for. Otherwise it won’t come true.”

He went quiet. “Ah, right. Of course not.”

Asra rolled his eyes, smirking, and Jenna leaned her chin against his shoulder. “You’re not still upset about your epic tales of misadventure?”

He crossed one leg over his knee so his foot swung in mid-air. “You know what’s wrong with the stories I’ve been telling all these years?”

“How often you tell them?”

Asra snorted, pulling her close with an arm around her waist. “No, the fact that you’re… not in them. They were from a different time in my life. When you weren’t around. Jen, when I lost you, I…” His voice wavered, and he paused, swallowing thickly.

Jenna cupped his face and pressed a kiss to his mouth, feeling him sigh against her lips and relax in her arms. “…Things are different now,” she whispered when they parted. “Different for both of us. I want to make new stories now, happier ones. With you.”

Asra searched her eyes for a moment, before beaming, brushing a strand of hair off her face. “I love you so much.”

Jenna smiled. “I love you too.”

“Is everybody watching us right now?”

“They absolutely are.”

“I was not,” Nadia said smoothly. “However I think one of the Devoraks may be crying.”

Asra laughed. “I bet I can guess which one.”

Portia cackled while Julian spluttered helplessly. “Sh-shut up, you three,” he cleared his throat, pounding a fist against his chest. “Just watch the stars, will you?”

Jenna hummed, resting her head against Asra’s chest just as another meteor left a pale stripe above them. “Hey, there’s another one. Make a wish.”

Asra tucked her head under his chin. “Would it be cheesy if I said I’ve already got mine?”

“Massively,” Jenna mumbled, already half asleep. “But I’m glad that you said it anyways.”

#hope it was worth the wait!#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fanfic #commissions #my writing #the arcana asra #the arcana nadia #the arcana julian #the arcana portia #the arcana muriel #asra x mc #asra alnazar

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secret-engima · 4 years

Note

So - in the female!Ardyn 'Taur 'verse, how does the romantic relationship between Cor and Ardyn develop? (Nox, meanwhile, is having - slight hysterics in the background, because The Immortal and the (formerly) literally Immortal Accursed? It's like a bad joke). And, for that matter - how does everyone *else* react to that relationship? (Regis is. Not sure how to feel. On the one hand, Cor is going to be *literally his brother*, squee! On the other, Cor is *dating his sister*.)

*cackles evilly* oh THAT’S easy-

They start dating out of Pure Spite.

See, Cor has been doing everything he can to get out of formal events WHENEVER he can for years because he’s the Marshal and the Immortal and all the widows and older bachelorettes seem to think they can win him over with enough makeup, perfume, primping of their fur, and fluttering of their eyelashes and Cor HATES IT. Always has. Regis has told him that if he actually GOT A DATE with someone maybe they’d back off, to which Aulea just rolls her eyes and says that they’d turn into sharks and shred whatever poor soul Cor tried to take as a plus one. Cor agrees, he’d have to find a Plus One that was even more deadly in the political and verbal arena, as well as one of high enough status to survive the gossip, and frankly it’s not worth the effort to look for such a wonder woman.

Then Ardyn happens. Then Ardyn is revealed as female in private, and after much discussion agrees to be revealed as female in public as well and the bachelors start calling. Cor watches for like- a year at least, probably closer to two as Ardyn deals with the same issues he does only in male form, as she tears them apart with a smile and leaves them thinking they’ve been complimented and not mocked to death. He watches, and knows that Ardyn is watching him too.

Then one day, on the cusp of YET ANOTHER Gala (okay there aren’t that many but they ARE annoying and Cor dreads each and every one with a passion), he comes home to find Ardyn IN HIS APARTMENT, lazing on his couch, all four paws in the air, and staring at the ceiling as she plays with her hat. “How did you get in here?” Cor scowls.

“Picked the window lock and opened it enough to shove my knife through, then I warped.” She says casually like that isn’t the most impressive form of warping there is, to be able to slide through a space that her mind should have told her was impossible to fit through and thus prevented the warp. Before he can demand she leave, she rolls off the couch and lands on her belly and paws on the floor like she’s the felinedaetaur and not him, “Court me,” she says with a manic gleam in her eyes, so manic her blue eyes are now bright gold.

Cor wonders if Regis will forgive him if he ends up drawing a sword on the king’s half-sister because this is like all of his worst nightmares in one, minus Gilgamesh being there, “No.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not interested.” He manages past stiff lips.

Ardyn hisses, low and feral, tail lashing in annoyance and wings mantling there on the floor before she settles with bland, “I’m not either, obviously. Come now, Immortal,” he growls at the hated nickname, “I thought you were the smart one of my brother’s troupe. The Gala is three days from now and we both know what that will mean, you’ll spend all evening choking on rote niceties to all the female nobles you can’t insult without it reflecting on your king and I will spend all evening wasting time verbally shredding all the male idiots who come with dreams of being a prince instead of letting me drink my fancy wine in peace.”

Cor senses one of Ardyn’s mad schemes on the horizon. Unlike Clarus and Titus, this actually makes him relax. Ardyn’s schemes are usually brilliant in a brutally unorthodox way, and if she has a plan to get them out of the Gala... “So?”

“So,” she parrots as she frisbees her hat to him, making him catch it on instinct, “court me, and we’ll have the perfect excuse to tell each other’s crowd of respective blithering stalkers to go skin themselves.” Cor’s eyebrows shoot up as he finally lets himself stalk into the living room, tail swishing in thought as Ardyn grins, her fangs glinting in the light, “Think about it,” she purrs low and seductively, tail waggling like she’s making a proposition and not plotting to help him out of all his propositions, “No woman will have a prayer of competing with me in status or prestige, I’m the king’s sister, a dragontaur and former Chancellor of an empire. At least half of them will leave you alone knowing they have no chance and the other half will be easy for me to scare off.”

Cor’s mind begins working overtime as he unthinkingly settles on the carpet in front of her, paws tucking under his chest as he crosses his arms, “And your suitors will thin enormously as well rather than compete with me, the King’s favored and Marshal of the Crownsguard.” And the famed Immortal, he doesn’t say, because he hates that nickname with a passion.

Ardyn’s grin grows bigger, “Exactly,” she rumbles seductively, looking far less like a mortal Taur and fare more like a tackily dressed succubus trying to talk him into selling his soul for a night’s pleasure, “So? What do you say? Want to give all of Lucian high society a nice heart attack?”

Cor feels his lips twitch and passes her ugly old hat back to her, a deal as good as made in blood, “We’ll need to match clothes and be seen entering the Gala together,” He says after scrounging in his brain for all the things Regis did to announce his courtship with Aulea. He paused, then held up a finger and padded off to his room. A few minutes digging through his chest of knickknacks and junk found on missions and he returns with a glittering tail-band of gold, engraved with lions and with sapphires for eyes. A prize found when wandering through old ruins, he’d only kept it out of boredom. Ardyn smiles viciously as she accepts the “courting gift” and slides it onto her tail, then pulls a shimmering ebony foreleg bracelet out of her armiger, engraved with the symbol of Lucis and with rubies set in the eye socket and outline of the skull. Cor raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t question where it came from, just slides it on to make sure it fits. It does, perfectly, and he suspects she had it commissioned for just this scheme.

He expects the tailors to throw a fit over having to provide matching outfits on such short notice and in secret, but instead they start crying for joy (“No checker patters or plaids!” one sobs as he carefully cuts out the silk pattern, “Only three layers!” wails another for joy as he alternates between taking a bemused Ardyn’s measurements and dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief).

They don’t tell anyone else in the Citadel, and Cor just tells Regis and Clarus that he’ll be a bit late for the Gala (Regis eyes him suspiciously, like he thinks Cor is going to play hooky, but Cor just blinks solemnly and Regis lets him go with a sigh).

The utterly dead, stunned, horrified silence that falls over the Gala when the frazzled goattaur herald announces, “The Marshal Cor Leonis and the Princess Ardyn Izunia Caelum.” and everyone watches as they stalk slowly, languidly down the stairs in matching finery, Ardyn’s short hair done up with tasteful gold ornaments, hat nowhere in sight, the golden lion-engraved band on her tail glinting like an executioner’s freshly sharpened axe while Cor’s foreleg band of black and rubies stands out sharply against his golden fur.

They don’t have to announce a thing or say a word. Everyone present knows what this means. To bear each other’s colors and symbols, to arrive openly together, Ardyn’s arm linked delicately through Cor’s, to be wearing matching attire-.

Cor decides instantly that this entire charade is worth it when he sees several of his more annoying stalkers straight up faint and Clarus choking on his wine while Regis gapes.

(Of course, after gloriously and shamelessly fake-dating for three months, Ardyn gets bored and asks Cor out to coffee somewhere public, to really sell the whole courting thing. After that, Cor, as thank you for the help against all the harpies in his life, drags a willing Ardyn off on a prolonged mission out in the wilds where there are no people and no rules, just him and Ardyn hiking through the wilds, spying on the Nifs (blowing up the base like Regis expressly told them not to do without backup) and pushing each other into the nearest body of water when one or the other gets too cheeky/sarcastic and-

You can see where it spirals from there. XD. Nox is losing his mind a little because his Uncle and his Aunt are DATING. But also yay? They’re dating? Regis is a Crisis because how do you Shovel Talk Cor? You can’t! And he can’t Shovel Talk Ardyn either because that’s his sister dating the lion Regis raised as a little brother figure and oh no think of what those two will get up to Clarus. Think of the chaos. Aulea, literally the only person other than Nox and Titus to realize this is fake dating, is very gleeful in carefully nudging them into REAL dating with Titus’s help. By the time Cor and Ardyn realize the trap it’s too late).

#SE asks #hamelin-born asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Nox verse #Nox!Taur verse #fem!ardyn #ardyn x cor #ardyn/cor

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pangtasias-atelier · 4 years

Text

A Grown Appreciation For Food

This commission is for a good friend @beepboop260 for a Seteth x M!Byleth appreciation fic.

Had a lot of fun trying to write a more like, soft and appreciative story. Plus I fucking love Seteth so damn much asdhbsnaj

Thank you so much again;;;;;;;;

--------------------------

Picking at his own meal, Byleth's mind barely registers the words leaving Seteth's lips; instead, he stares intently at Seteth's plate.

The two having retreated to a secluded area in the mountains far long ago, the need of going back into civilization was necessary at first. But once the two had a humble yet helpful garden finally going, their basic needs of vegetables and spices were satisfied. With easy access to animals to hunt and fish to catch, the two's dietary requirements were mostly fulfilled. So, the disliked, yet necessary, trips back into society dwindled into seldom special occasions.

Byleth content enjoying an era of solitude with his husband after a full-fledged war and the following years of dealing with rambunctious ex-students, Seteth was happy as well, his natural distrustful disposition leaving him favorable with the arrangement.

With very little exercise needed, their days are filled with enjoying the others presence while lazing around their home or exploring and enjoying nature together, the once regular upkeep during their old busy lives no longer necessary.

One of Byleth's favorite tasks back at Garreg Mach being cooking, he had unfortunately been inept in the art, overcooked or undercooked meals a common occurrence. With all the time in the world, literally, Byleth's practice put into the skill had helped blossom it into a respectable and admirable proficiency.

Cooking its own scientific research, and with Byleth as the researcher, he had need of a guinea pig. And said guinea pig came in the form of Seteth.

Dutiful in whatever he applied himself to, Seteth was very much the same for marriage. Regardless of the necessity or frivolity of Byleth's requests, Seteth performed them with a smile on his face.

So, when Byleth constantly asked him to taste a dish or two, Seteth was there to do so. And it had started off innocently at first, but the way Seteth let out a smile at an exceptional dish warmed Byleth down to his very core, Seteth's praise the highest honor to him. And yet, the way Seteth's flat stomach soon grew a barely noticeable curve of pudge, the way Seteth's thighs squished against his pants, the way Seteth tried to hide the discomfort from tasting yet another recipe, the little swell of his tummy pressed tightly against his shirt, the way that, well everything! For Byleth could go on for days about Seteth. And his own newfound appreciation of seeing Seteth on the larger side.

And so, Byleth had steeled himself and his resolve into getting Seteth to gain weight. And like all things he pushed himself for, he had done it. And done it well, Seteth far too unwilling to say no. Soon, Seteth's fit muscular body filled out with the extra calories needing a home. Seteth chunky, Byleth had to constantly force himself to not stare at Seteth's plush backside with rolls that seemed to gain companions quickly, or to stare at his dome of a stomach as it sagged down to his crotch or the way it'd barely rest on his thighs, or to stare at Seteth's chubby cheeks and rounder face as it filled out, or to stare at anything really, Seteth's inability to say no, making it easy for him to gain weight.

Which led to Byleth's current problem, Seteth picking at his food.

Byleth nodding or humming in agreement whenever Seteth paused to take a bite, he sees the way Seteth has most of his fish left, Seteth instead going mostly for the greens.

Bourgeois Pike for dinner, Seteth having fished the main ingredient early noon, Byleth was ecstatic, the dish one of Seteth's favorites. And yet, each new forkful of food led to Seteth barely eating any of the fish.

Mind swirling with ideas, all come back improbable, the only real possibility being Seteth being embarrassed. For despite Seteth's willingness to please, his own embarrassment is comparable.

It had taken Byleth nearly half a year of wheedling and cajoling Seteth to convince him to drop his magical wards. Seteth's draconic features visible for him and only him to see, Byleth constantly staring and touching Seteth's pointed ears had nearly made Seteth reactivate the wards.

Chair scraping against the wooden floor, Byleth perks up, at attention now. His own plate finished, Byleth stares at how Seteth's is barely halfway eaten.

"I'll wash the dishes while you freshen up," Grabbing both plates, Seteth leans down to give a chaste peck on Byleth's lips.

Byleth's train of thought immediately derails as Seteth's gut sinks into him, the warm soft flab seemingly enveloping him. Reflexively nodding in agreement, Byleth's wandering thoughts about Seteth's fattened body stray, Byleth focused on the soft yet plump moobs that grew where Seteth's hard chest once rested, the doughy flabby layers of rolls adorning his arms that seemed to protect him with every hug, Seteth's growing shelf of an ass that jiggles with a heavy step, every part of Seteth enraptured Byleth. So much so, that his issue with Seteth barely eating during dinner had barely come back to him once he had finished showering and subsequently finished dressing for bed, a simple pair of shorts and t-shirt.

Waiting in bed, Byleth sighs as the thought of Seteth's randomly diminished appetite returns to him. There had to be some reason for it, Seteth never one to do things spontaneously.

No one else to worry about, it clearly couldn't have been a comment towards Seteth's weight. With no broken furniture, that wasn't a possibility either. Mind jumping to ripped clothes, Byleth listens for the sound of Seteth's shower, the water still running. Standing up, he quickly heads to Seteth's dresser. Careful to place all clothes back the same exact way, Byleth has to control himself as he realizes the difference in the size of their clothing, Seteth's shirts draping over his own lithe figure. Shaking his head to clear it, he digs down further. No holes or obvious patch jobs, Byleth instead finds a small slip of paper in one of Seteth's pants.

Nearly about to put it back, the familiar runes on it give it away as a spell. Unfamiliar with this particular spell, Byleth recites the incantation.

His clothes suddenly much larger on his body, Byleth's eyes widen as he figures out the purpose of the spell. Lifting up his shirt, his figure appears gauntly with his ribs jutting out, Byleth appearing to not have eaten for a considerable length of time. Yet he feels exactly the same, his sense of health and heft unchanged. Sighing, Byleth casts restore on himself, his normal figure coming back to him.

Closing Seteth's drawers, Byleth pockets the note. Seteth unaware, he smiles at Byleth as he enters, already dressed in a similar pair of shorts and t-shirt unlike the other times where Seteth would change in front of him.

Immediately noting Seteth's other different behavior, Byleth produces the note, holding it in front of Seteth's face.

Seteth's face dropping, he blushes as he clears his throat. "Now Byleth, I'm sure-" Seteth lets out a strained gasp as Byleth places a hand on his stomach, wasting no time in casting restore.

Seteth having casted the spell on himself, the restore spell slowly unweaves the effects of it, Byleth standing back wide-eyed.

Seteth already slightly past the chunky size, the undone spell reveals his actual size, Seteth widening.

His small bulge of a stomach distends, the overhang and curve gradually growing. The bottom sliver of it peeks out of his shirt. His shirt works to contain the rest of Seteth's largening torso but fails, the sides of his shirt rising as Seteth struggles to bring it back down. More of his soft stomach becoming exposed, his shirt continues to rise as Seteth fills out, his gut hanging down freely. Shirt traveling past his navel, Byleth forces himself to keep his hands to himself, Seteth's shirt soon turning into a makeshift bra as it strains to hold back Seteth's engorged moobs. His jugs near the size of his face, Seteth groans and blushes as he struggles to hold them back with his fattened arms, as if to make them smaller. The fabric is taut, a few small tears running down the side.

Seteth's shorts fare the same, the sides torn up and bunched up from his widened thighs. His inner thighs pressed up together, Seteth's widened pose does nothing to stop his lardy thighs from clinging to one another. Seteth's tail even seemingly larger, he drags it on the floor, uncharacteristic for Seteth who always keeps it up. Unable to see his ass, Byleth wonders about the size of it, clearing his throat to remain focused, Byleth already having to not think about how Seteth's fat just jiggles and moves from standing still.

Forcing himself to not lick his lips at the sight of Seteth, his cooking doing this to him, Byleth looks up at him instead. And he struggles to not tackle Seteth, the slightly exaggerated convexity of Seteth's bulging cheeks as he blushes and frowns too adorable.

Seteth clearing his throat brings Byleth back down to Fodlan. "I, I can explain," Seteth offers. Byleth kisses him, cutting him off. Seteth's stomach pushes against him as Byleth clings to him, his arms unable to fully wrap around Seteth. Seteth thrown off, he relents, returning the gesture.

Byleth pulling back, he smiles at Seteth. "You look better like this. Much better," He bluntly admits.

Seteth choked up, his entire face burns up, mouth opening and closing with no proper response able to be offered. "I beg pardon?" Is the only thing he can throw out, Seteth wondering if Byleth had been knocked upside the head.

"You look better," Byleth asserts. The faintest tint of a blush on his face is the only proof offered of the sincerity of his words.

That is until Byleth grabs Seteth's cheeks and tugs at them. "You look so different from your usual stern self, so nice and relaxed and happy," Byleth pulls at them further, forcing Seteth to open his mouth and reveal his fangs and forked tongue. "And don't forget that I love all parts of you, even your draconic parts. This is just another part of you," Letting go, Byleth tugs Seteth's ear, Seteth holding back a moan, before his hands travel downward, Seteth's face somehow redder than before.

"Your arms are perfect for cuddling, the way they squish me and warm me up," Byleth lifts them up, testing the heft of them before letting them go, both of them flopping back to Seteth's side and shaking him. Going further down, Byleth rests both hands on Seteth's stomach. "It makes me so happy to see you enjoy my cooking. And with the best proof right here," Byleth presses down a bit before rubbing both hands in circular motions. "The way you always compliment and ask for more despite being full and squirming in your seat. Now you can fit more in here," Patting it, Byleth's hands wrap around Seteth again. "And your love handles, both perfect for leaning on and resting on,"

"Byleth-" Seteth interrupts, only for a longing gaze from Byleth to quiet him.

"Your thighs," Byleth squeezes and rubs them as he crouches down. "So titanic and plush. The best spot for lying down and taking a nap. And how they shake when you walk, always having to be careful to not knock something with your wide hips," Standing up, Byleth encircles Seteth, standing behind him. "And these," Placing both hands on Seteth's ass and generously squeezing them prompts Seteth to slightly jump. "So massive yet soft. They probably quiver behind you with each step," Grabbing Seteth's tail, Byleth lifts it up, petting it as Seteth continues to lose his composure.

"And my favorite part," Back in front of Seteth, Byleth grabs Seteth's shirt. Byleth gazing at him, Seteth trepidatiously lifts up his arms, arms shaking from being unused to the weight. Taking off Seteth's shirt and tossing it to the side, Byleth rubs and squeezes Seteth's chest together. "Your pecs were great, so wonderful to rest my head on and see you turn so red and shy. But now, I can grab and squeeze them too, both so large and round," Byleth does just that, shaking them and giving a kiss to Seteth.

"You're perfect as you are,"

Seteth's brain still on overload, he fumbles with his words. Yet the supposed sincerity behind each of Byleth's words hit him, Byleth not one for talking so long, the two of them used to days spent in comfortable near silence.

"I-I," Seteth clears his throat, letting out a heavy sigh, his body rising and falling with said sigh. "Thank you," He lets out, face apparently stuck being red. "It seems I had fretted over an issue that never existed,"

"My pleasure," Indeed so, Byleth immediately goes to grabbing Seteth's stomach again, rubbing and lifting it. Seteth's strained breath only taunts and eggs him further.

"So, I presume you knew about my weight?" Seteth tosses out.

"Not about the spell, but even with it, it was obvious you had gained weight," Byleth shrugs, straightforward as always.

"I see," Seteth clearing his throat, he grabs Byleth's wrists, averting his gaze as Byleth faces him. "One last question. For how long did you intend to keep this up?" Seteth biting his tongue, it's Byleth's turn to turn red, unsure of the answer himself.

"I don't know?" Byleth throws a question at himself. Seteth's shocked face makes him rethink his answer. "I was too focused on imagining you larger and eating more," Byleth smiles.

"Byleth!" Seteth yells, eyes unable to look at him. "How large were-"

"You said that was your last question," Byleth taunts, rubbing circles on Seteth's cheeks with his thumbs. Seteth sighs in response. "And I was joking," Grinning, Byleth grabs Seteth by the wrist.

Muttering to himself about how unbelievable Byleth was, Seteth follows as Byleth leads, He walks slowly beside Seteth, Byleth keeping in mind his size, Seteth needing a wide berth as he brings one chafing thigh past one another to waddle.

"You didn't finish dinner, so…" Byleth pauses as he enters the kitchen. The kitchen spotless, Byleth double checks the trash. Nothing found, he turns back to Seteth who merely shifts his hefty weight from side to side.

Leftovers meant for tomorrow, that had been cleaned out as well.

"If I may admit, your cooking is too delicious," Seteth takes a step back before Byleth tackles him, hugging him.

"Then I'll cook some more," Letting go, Byleth ignores Seteth's comments, leading him to the groaning chair before he pulls out spices and ingredients with ease.

Despite his earlier complaints, Seteth remains seated, expectantly waiting for his post-dinner meal once the first wafts of the aroma assault his nose. His thoughts of moderation deteriorate as Byleth finishes cooking, the grilled herring done. Ready to grab the plate, Seteth finds himself denied, Byleth holding it out of his reach.

"Open wide," Byleth imitates the action. A forkful of the herring already prepared, he waits for Seteth to do so.

"Byleth, I am perfectly capable of feeding myself," Seteth retorts, barely able to cross his arms over his chest.

"I want to feed you," Placing a hand on Seteth's stomach, Byleth rubs it.

Holding back his moans, Seteth relents, opening his mouth. Byleth ready, he brings the fork to Seteth.

Taking the first bite, the perfect smokey char of the fish mixed in with Byleth rubbing his stomach sends his mind racing. Hedonism so different from him in the past, Seteth finds himself enjoying it far too much, the act of getting used to it a slippery slope.

Yet he readily opens his mouth again for the second bite, Byleth planting a kiss on his stomach.

#commission #my writing #fat emblem #fat!seteth #fat fiction #male weight gain

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asterekmess · 4 years

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S3A - E3

Hiya, back with another episode of the rewatch. I am...not looking forward to this episode. *deep breath* here we go.

Read More’s save sanity

Hey, so I know this is a really heavy first bullet point...but isn’t anybody else uncomfortable with the image of a black boy running around out of his mind with fury and bloodlust and going after little...white kids? Am I reading too much into this? I know Cora’s running around too. I just...whatever, I’m just gonna keep my mouth shut.

Straight from way too heavy to way too light. So that girl dropped a big jar of fireflies, but they say that fireflies that actually glow aren’t native to California, which would mean these are part of the whole magic thing going on, and at the end of the whole firefly thing they get rid of all the fireflies. So...what if someone finds that jar and opens it?

...nevermind the jar opened up somehow...

Okay, listen, I have a petty and biased hatred for this moment with Scott. Like...is it so hard to say, “I had to get the kids he was chasing away from him?” It’s not like they don’t have time..they just stand there in silence for a while. I also hate the savior pose he strikes there with the kids clinging to him. Like, I get that it’s a very common trope. I still hate it. I use the anti-scott tag for a reason, let me be salty.

why te fuck does Scott FLOAT in the intro?

Lydia has seriously emptied an entire bottle of ibuprofen? She should be dead. Or at least at a hospital. She’s too smart not to know how dangerous it is to take ibuprofen (even the recommended dosage) for too long at a time.

Lydia...Lydia knows about werewolves now. Did no one tell her about this whole escape plan for the betas? She could’ve helped.

Cue the shitty SFX running. Y’all look ridiculous.

Man, come on. Are you seriously telling me that Derek never played hide and seek with his siblings? Like, they’re werewolves for fuck’s sake. Derek never did fake chases through the woods? He tracked PETER for christ’s sake, all the way across town. He was like yards behind him before he got shot that one time.

This show relies a lot on character’s losing time and just finding themselves places. Jackson losing time, Lydia losing time. Lydia losing time again, but in a new way. Later, it’ll be Stiles losing time. I’m just saying, it happens a lot.

It’s fucking august in California. Does it actually get that cold? Poor Lydia’s nose is always red cus she gets forced to wander around in the dark and freezing. I can see her goosebumps when she kneels next to the pool.

I know it’s gotta be hell on her voice, but I think it’s so interesting the way Lydia screams and how it has to jump around the chords before hitting that one note. I don’t know why I find that so interesting. Guess it just reminds me of a wolf howl. Seriously, look ‘em up. Weirdly similar. GO Holland!

What do you mean the last memory that she had of her mother, Scott? You should’ve told her RIGHT THEN. Right off the bat. There was TONS of time between her getting bit and when she died. You should’ve told Allison right away. Fuck you, you had all of spring break!

god fucking damn it now I’m crying again. Erica, sweetie...Derek honey...

I’m trying to get past the tears to enjoy this romancey stuff, with the candles and the lil lamps, and the LOTR references. I’m really trying.

This is totally not what I should be thinking about while watching the two of them make out, but like, so does Caitlin not go to their school? She just sort of appears a couple times, but Stiles doesn’t seem to know her. Maybe she went to the same school as Heather?

don’t like bugs don’t like bugs ew ew ew ew

Hi cora!

Isaac! You’re somehow feeling better, even though you were apparently out of commission like an hour or two ago...wait huh?

I gotta say, okay, listen I just can’t help it. I know this is serious, but that lil smirk on Isaac’s face? I don’t think he looks smug, personally, I think he looks like he’s about to go play, go rolling around in the grass and leaves, playing with a pack member. He’s been alone for so long this summer, what with Jackson leaving. he’s had no wolves to play with (cus’ we know Derek’s a grump). As worried as he’s gotta be, I bet he’s having funnnnnn.

I..uh..Cora what sound is coming out of your mouth? That..that does not sound like a wolf. That sounds like a wild cat of some kind. Wolves don’t make that screechy noise. They bark and growl, like the sound that came just before. That doesn’t even sound like a roar. Who gave you cheetah sounds?? You’re canine, not feline. Come on they did SO WELL with Derek’s sounds-- No. NO Do not tell me they gave Cora cat sounds cus she’s a chick. I’m gonna fight someone. (For those of you interested, if you scroll to the bottom of this webpage, you can listen to wolf growl snippets and they’re such good quality (I think the bark snippet is broken tho). Listen to those whimpers and whines too, fucking fascinating. I love wolves. Such beautiful animals.)

Cora with Isaac and Scott attacking her and growling at her: “Fuck you, I’ll bite you!” Cora with Derek just growling at her: “BYE bro!”

Stiles, honey! I missed you! Literally, just the sound of your voice makes me feel better.

Scott, Seriously, Derek just said you haven’t tracked either of them anywhere near the pool. You’ve both been following them all night! Yeah, they’re dangerous, but they couldn’t get to the pool and back in time to fight you! I”M GONNA SMACK YOU. DOn’t use that fucking patronizing tone of voice when Derek is TELLING YOU FACTS.

OUR fault? OUR FAULT? I’m gonna fucking *kicks a chair and storms off, grumbling* *Spins around, cus fuck it i’m gonna yell. it’s my post.* NONE OF THIS is DEREK”S FAULT. NOne of this is ISAAC’S FAULT. Fuck dude, I’ll even say that it’s not Scott’s fault! If it’s anyone other than the Alphas’ fault, it’s Allison’s, but tbf she thought she was helping.

DEREK SHUT YOUR PRETTY MOUTH. I swear to god.

ARE YOU FUCKING JOKING? DEREK WOULD NEVER SUGGEST MURDERING BOYD AND CORA. NEVER. He thought Cora was fucking dead and he just found out she’s alive! HE WOULD NEVER. NEVER. FUCK YOU. FUCK EVERYTHING. *Throws a plate* YOU KNOW YOU ONLY FUCKING WROTE IT SO THAT YOU COULD SHOW OFF SCOOT MCFUCKFACE’S SUDDEN FLIP IN MORALITY BY HAVING HIM SAY THAT “KILLING ISN’T THE RIGHT THING TO DO” OH REALLY Scott? REALLY? Killing is bad? YOU DIDN’T THINK SO WHEN YOU SPENT MONTHS attempting to commit PREMEDITATED MURDER of a GUY WHO WAS ALREADY DYING. MONTHS. Scott. FUCK YOU. FUCK THIS SHOW. 13 minutes in and I’m already about to chuck my laptop across the room. MY CAT WON’T EVEN CUDDLE ME ANYMORE I’M SO ANGRY.

And now I’m really fucking sad, cus’ I hate watching this poor girl get told she’s just hallucinating.

WHY does everyone go shopping at fucking 8 pm in Beacon Hills? What...Chris you don’t even have a day job.

I don’t...I don’t understand this scene with Isaac. Like..what exactly are they trying to imply? That he thinks she’s hot? All he’s seen is her raging around with fangs free and glowing eyes. And yeah, some people definitely think that’s hot. But like...that’s just so...what? I choose to read this scene as him just wondering about Derek’s home life. Like, “Since when do you have siblings? Why don’t you tell me these things? I have an aunt?”

WHAT DO YOU mean “Your world?” CHRIS YOU GREW UP AS A HUNTER. THIS IS YOUR WORLD TOO. He was YOUR dad. You’ve been a part of this WAY longer than Scott! Don’t blame the werewolves for ruining your life! THAT WAS YOUR DAD and YOUR STUPID HUNTER CODE’S FAULT.

OKay, listen, I have so many issues with this I need a therapist to mediate my conversations with it. FUCK YOU TW for bringing in Chris. I dont’ give a fuck if he’s experienced or trying to redeem himself. He is a HUNTER he has Slaughtered Derek’s kind for his entire life. He may want to do the right thing, but the right thing definitely doesn’t involved him Standing in front of Derek and forcing him to listen to hunter PROPAGANDA BULLSHIT. I’M SO FUCKING MAD. This was so inappropriate, holy shit. SO far beyond okay. Even the CONCEPT that werewolves wouldn’t be as good at tracking other werewolves as hunters are is fucking stupid. You said it yourself, Chris they can follow scent up to TWO MILES AWAY. Wolves can track their prey for weeks without losing the scent. Just because Isaac stepped on some footprints doesn’t mean he’s incapable of finding them. And what’s all this shit about them “Being able to rely on their human half”? NO? First off, minor detail. Werewolves aren’t half wolf, half human, dumbass. They’re all werewolf. AND The show has said like Ten TIMES that they can’t access their human form/the thought processes they would normally have during a full moon without an anchor, and Boyd and Cora are effectively anchorless on this moon. This is just utter bullshit and I’m so goddamn angry I don’t even know how to process it. “If you’re not trained like me you have no idea this print is Boyd’s” YEAH THEY DO. THEY CAN LITERALLY SMELL IT. DEREK ALREADY IDENTIFIED THE TRACKS. FUCK you.

ALSO. Getting REAL SICk of people slicing their wrists every time they need a little blood for a ritual or for bait. YOU CUT THE MEAT of the arm. ON THE BACK. WHERE YOU WON”T HIT a VEIN. DUMBASSES.

WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK DO YOU MEAN NINE YEARS DEREK? YOU’D BETTER MEAN CORA WAS NINE YEARS OLD, CUS’ THE FIRE WAS SIX YEARS AGO. and what do you mean you don’t have a lock on her scent? you’ve been following it just fine all night! Wolves remember human scents decades later.

Booooo, i hate the entire concept of wolves going mad on a full moon. It’s lazy and boring. Wolves are not vicious animals, they’re shy as fuck. THey don’t attack without reason. Werewolves should be the same. Full moon’s enhance their wolfishness, so it should make them MORE SHY. The moon should enhance whatever they feel, rather than just making them mindlessly aggressive.

“Primal apex Predatory satisfaction”? seriously? Shut the FUCK up Chris, I’m really fucking sick of your hunter bedtime stories.

....i hate this woman.

Casual reminder that Isaac wouldn’t suggest Killing boyd. Ever. I fucking hate these writers.

yeah yeah, running scene. blah blah blah.

See, I never really understood those fics where Peter just refuses to give anyone any info. He tells Derek what’s up constantly. He didn’t lie or hold anything back when he helped Derek figure out what was up with Jackson or how Jackson needed Lydia to be cured. He walks right up to Derek and says “Hey, so those Alphas clearly want you to join them and that means they’re trying to make you kill your own pack” Peter helps Derek all the time. He’s just a dick while he does it.

Look, I love this moment with Peter, his “Let Scott be the hero of his morally black and white world. You and I, we live in shades of gray” lines are so good, and they speak so much to his character and personality. And he’s right. But I hate that they built the scene around Derek planning to kill his own pack, and following Scott around doing as he asks. I just hate what they do to Derek here.

The dog whistles suddenly have no effect on their hearing? Love it.

Take a second to bring up a plotline you won’t explain for ages. I vibe with that, so long as it is eventually explained.

OOh, suddenly BHHS has a football field?

Not gonna cry, not gonna cry. FUCK I’m crying again.

I just...dude I’m over here trying not to completely lose my shit and cry like a baby, and Stiles is in the middle of panicking and losing his oldest friend and he still puts the dots together. Like. Jesus christ this boy.

NOW Derek? You choose NOW to take Every Single Step down the stairs? JUMP.

...what is this a cartoon? Glowing eyes in the dark? one too many sets? Yeah, yeah, I get it, they’re supposed to look like fireflies.

Why did you stop to look at each other after blasting them? Just go.

OH, yeah, of course Scott has to be the one to hear the extra heartbeat. Scott. Not Derek. Not the ALpha who’s senses are heightened above the a Beta’s. Not DEREK the ALPHA who has a PACK, which makes his senses even stronger that that. No. Scott. The omega. Because he’s like an inch closer to the door. Yah. Sure. That makes sense. SUre.

Dude I wish my high school had that much backup supplies free for the teacher’s to grab. Also, I hate this woman.

WHy were the lights off in the boiler room if she was in the back grabbing stuff? That..what?

OH. I forgot, so Caitlin’s out of high school? She’s...what, 18? 19? Okay, fine, I’ll take that.

Oh stop faking Jennifer, fuck you.

Crying again. dont’ mind me. This is Derek. Not choosing to kill his beta or his long lost sister. Choosing to die himself instead. THAT is Derek (it’s self-sacrificing and it’s because he gives his own life no worth, but it’s still him.)

HOW IS IT DAWN? THAT WOULD BE like 6 HOURS of standing around! Or did the sun not set until like 10 pm? Hm? This show has no concept of time, and werewolves are very time oriented. Someone take away the show from the writers. They’ve lost their privileges.

I hate this. I hate that Isaac shouts for Scott. Not Derek. That’s just so fucking dumb. I’m so tired of it. I’m just so fucking sick of it.

I don’t even wanna look at this. I hate this woman so much.

YOU REALIZE that the third Virgin was Taken. The third virgin is DEAD. the sacrifices have been made, and now Jennifer has control over people. This is where she starts controlling Derek. Right Fucking Here. He loses his agency the moment they touch, if not the moment they make eye contact or he gets in range. I hate it. I HATE IT.

BOOM. Episode three, and Stiles already has the villain after next figured out. He’s past the Alphas now.

Final Thoughts: I’m angry, I’m tired, and I honestly got very little joy or interest out of this whole episode. I hate what this show did to werewolves and how much insane Scott glorification there is and how every little thing HAS to be about Scott. Scott’s relationship with Chris. Scott saving the kids. Scott’s the one Isaac calls for. Scott’s the one who hears the heartbeats. I get that he’s the main character. I also hate that he’s the main character. It’s just so sad and pathetic and boring and just....ugh. I’m going to bed. I will try for another episode or two tomorrow.

(I promise I’m okay. Just go listen to the wolf howls for me in that link, huh? Listen to those beauties and imagine how amazing a wolf show could have been.)

#personal #TeenWolf-Rewatch #anti-scott mccall #i'm sad #but i promise not as sad as it might come across #just need a lil break

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yukiwrites · 4 years

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Byleth, Revealing the Truth

Thank you for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse! This is always so interesting to work on! >v<)

Summary: Coming to terms with the realization that he will never see Sothis again, Byleth finally confronts Rhea in front of the student body and reveals the truth of the deep and dark secrets the Church had been keeping for a thousand years...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

______________________________

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15

The air underground felt thicker and thicker with magical energy the closer they got to the Holy Tomb. Byleth could almost hear the memories unraveling around him, taking everything he had to simply look ahead and lead the way.

The students -- Claude, Linhardt and Ignatz especially -- explored the stones with deep curiosity, whispering amongst themselves while coming up with this or that theory about the place's origins. Once they descended through a mysterious contraption -- something Byleth's memories told him was called 'elevator' -- the awed gasps increased.

There it lay, right in front of them -- the gargantuan underground space known as the Holy Tomb.

"Are you surprised, Professor? This is the Holy Tomb." Rhea pressed her lips into a thin line, as though testing Byleth's grasp in Sothis' memories. The young Professor simply chewed his lower lip and took a short breath, seeing the young Rhea giggling and twirling around herself in every single place he directed his gaze to.

Standing on Byleth's left, Dimitri looked around with large eyes. "Incredible. To think such a vast space has been hiding beneath the Monastery all this time. I wonder what powers that giant mechanism that descends beneath the ground." He whispered the last part more to himself, taking a hand to his chin in thought.

Rhea's steps turned hastier as they approached the throne sitting on the opposite side of the entrance. It overlooked any and all who entered, centered so as to watch over the countless sarcophagi scattered all over the grounds.

"This is where the goddess who created this world was laid to rest, along with her children." She gestured vaguely from the sarcophagi to the throne. "It is said," she tried very hard to suppress her smirk, "that our creator, the goddess Sothis, sat upon this very throne." She let the words sink in for a moment, waiting for when Byleth's gaze turned to her. "Do you recognize this throne, Professor?"

"What, why would he know about this? Is that because he received the power from the goddess?" Claude blurted out from the position Hanneman had guided the Golden Deers to, crossing his arms in confusion.

"I do not think now's the time to ask such questions, Claude..." Ignatz shook his head beside Claude, whispering as low as he could, though still falling victim to the mysterious echo of the Holy Tomb.

"Now's precisely the time to ask questions, though..." Unsatisfied, but intent on staying put for the time being, Claude crossed both hands behind his head, feigning nonchalance.

Byleth looked away from Rhea towards the throne, clutching his chest and embracing the lump in his throat. "I do." He replied simply, making the Archbishop blink enthusiastically and clap her hands gracefully.

"So long... So long have I waited for this very day." Her eyes looked glazed over; her controlled smile just a step from conveying the deep-rooted madness within. "Go, Professor," she urged the young man through the steps. "Sit upon the throne. I have no doubt -- no doubt! -- that you will be gifted a r-revelation from the goddess." She bit her lower lip in anticipation.

Byleth gazed upon the throne, feeling the heat escape his body and his throat go dry.

He had just seen it inside his head, barely a week ago. He had gone up these very steps within his mind to console Sothis when she had regained her memory, just a few weeks previous. He had seen her sit upon it countless, countless times inside their shared memories.

His eyes burning, Byleth gripped the hilt of the Sword of the Creator on his hip and climbed the steps, one by one; one by one.

The more the throne approached, the more visions Byleth could see -- of Rhea, of Sothis, of her children; even of a young Seteth -- and his legs started trembling. He knew that if he had a normal heart, this would be the moment where it would be beating so loud he would barely be able to hear his own breathing.

Alas, his chest was as silent as ever, though if only his mind could say the same...

He touched the cold stone of the throne's hand rest, feeling a crackle of energy clashing with the one being emitted from his own body. Taking a deep breath, the professor slowly took a seat in the middle of the large throne, reminding him of how small Sothis always looked whenever she sat on it inside their shared mindscape.

Closing his eyes, Byleth felt a surge of memories cascading through his mind.

He could almost, almost hear Sothis' voice again, though it all stemmed from his own memories.

“You fool!! Do not go asking questions you might regret hearing the answer to!” “Give it to her! Get away from here this instant! I cannot bear this conversation any longer!” He could hear her voice almost as clear as day, though he knew, deep within himself, that this was all just his own wishful thinking showing him what he wanted to see.

“I condone the way you forcefully try to yank it all out of me.” “Your mind has been wandering and wandering…” “Sothis, also known as The Beginning. I identify with both aliases, as does the goddess.” “Am I simply a part of the goddess? The conscience once calls ‘self’? If so, is that the reason why I bear the appearance of a child?” Her voice as she condoned or comforted him made the Professor press his own lips into a thin line, a deep frown squeezing his eyes shut lest they overflowed with grief.

“Experiment? What- Did I go through such a thing in the past?” “NO! No, no! Nooo!” “This… this is… It’s how I died.”

Byleth could barely keep himself from expressing his own grief, watching his and Sothis’ shared memories play out inside his mind.

“So that is why I did not want to remember…” “Will you come with me?” “Thank you…” “I have the memories back, not the powers! Oh, why-why must this happen…!” “What a beautiful love it must’ve been.” “Your Father had been wary of her from day one.”

“Indeed… The wicked must be punished.”

“It was that simple, young one. She wanted to see me again.”

Byleth opened his eyes, his gaze meeting Rhea’s.

“She wanted to bring me back to life, Byleth, by using your body as a medium. I’d wager she almost succeeded this time.” “Even though we’ve been together ever since you were born, it is a shame that I’ve only awoke a few months ago.” “It is not the same as death, silly child. I will always be with you, quite literally.”

“We simply… will not be able to talk like this. I shall miss it.”

Rhea’s expression started to crumble. “Well…?”

“Can I be selfish just one more time?” “Could you- hug me?” “This will be the very last time anyway, for all eternity.”

Byleth slowly ascended from the throne, taking quiet steps down the stairs towards the Archbishop.

“Thank you… I’m glad it was with you to whom my fate was bound.”

The Professor stopped midway to the staircase, taking a deep breath and turning to the throne, bowing slightly to it. "I'm sorry, my friend... I’ll try to keep my promise as best I can, but…” He raised his gaze to the cold stone, then back to the increasingly nervous Archbishop.

Averting her gaze, Byleth tried to walk past her in a strangled silence, but she took his arm with a force that did not match her frail-looking get-up.

"W-wait, Professor? What happened? It w-was supposed to be just a step away..." Her voice derailed as her eyes shook -- the color seeped out of her face with each breath she took. "Answer me!"

"L-Lady Rhea, pray let the Professor go-" Dimitri tried to touch Rhea's hand which gripped Byleth's arm, but was shook off by the increasingly unhinged Archbishop.

"Do not interfere, child!" She hissed, her eyes and cheeks hollowing in despair.

Byleth's brow flickered with anger, so he, too, shook off Rhea's hand. "Don't touch my students." His voice was low, but somber, full of authority and barely controlled anger.

It was as though he had the poise of a god for the entire room fell silent as chills spread around everyone's spines.

Hanneman and Manuela exchanged glances, ready to haul the students out at any indication of Rhea losing control.

"I'm not a tool for your schemes anymore, Rhea! What did you want to happen, truly? To have Sothis possess my body and live and speak through my mouth? You can't ever replicate her body! It would've been a prison just as cruel as the one they put her through!"

"NO! No- no, she would be free! She would walk amongst us again- M-mother...! She would- reconstruct herself once she regained her powers-" Rhea blabbed, her field of vision and consciousness narrowing to Byleth only, forgetting about the dozens of onlookers.

Byleth clutched his chest, "regained what powers? Through a limited vessel there was no way to channel them! She could only keep the form of an amnesic child! Haven't you realized that the power of her soul can't be contained only in her Crest Stone?! The most she could do was wish to know who she was!"

Rhea's eyes widened so, they almost bulged out of her skull. "F-form of a child? No memories...? But then, how do you- how did she give you this power- o-oh, Mother..."

The Professor's chin trembled with the overlapped version of Rhea and her child self, his eyes burning with tears -- no doubt stemming from Sothis' side of his soul. "She!" He didn't notice he raised his voice until it left his throat. "She didn't want me to resent you up until the very end. She asked me to be merciful to the child who was most attached to her." His voice trembled and he could feel that a single tear escaped, though he was quick to dry it with the back of his hand.

Rhea's legs gave out. "M-mother..." She dug her face into her hands; her entire body, that once felt imposing and all-knowing, trembled and shivered like a lost little girl who simply missed her mother.

The students watched with glazed eyes, not knowing what to think or where all of that came from, most of their mouths agape in shock.

Byleth gave his back to the sobbing Rhea, turning to the audience. His eyes met his coworkers, though he could only see their worry for him in their expressions. He simply nodded and looked away from them towards every single student. "I'm sure you all have many questions." He managed to control his voice and grip at his sword to ground himself. "What failed to happen just now was the resurrection of the goddess." He declared, noticing how the air itself started to waver due to the students' anxiety. He took out his weapon and hung it overhead.

The Sword of the Creator shone in its characteristic red glow, stealing every pair of eyes towards it. "I have been housing the consciousness of the goddess inside me, which is why I am able to wield the weapon that was made with her very own bones."

A low 'eek' was heard amongst the students, though was deafened by Claude's loud objection. "Bones? What'dya mean by that, Teach? Are you saying...?"

Byleth nodded, pointing towards the House Leader. "Failnaught," he went from Claude to Dimitri, "Areadbhar," then towards the spot the Blue Lions stood at, "The Crusher, Aegir Shield, the Lance of Ruin, Lùin..." Then, he looked back to the Alliance House, "Freikugel, Thyrsus... They were all made out of the bones and crystallized blood of the children of the goddess. That I can wield the Sword of the Creator without its own Crest Stone is the proof -- for the crystallized blood of the goddess rests within my own heart."

"B-bones?" Ingrid's grasp on Lùin faltered, allowing it to fall with a loud clang on the ground. "B-but the ancient texts..."

"The Church has been manipulating the information of what happened a millennia ago to hide the true nature of the tragedy." Byleth placed the tip of his sword on the ground, resting both hands upon its hilt. "I'm sure none of you forgot what happened at Remire village." He let his words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "Those who were behind the attack on the village, as well as behind the murder of my father... They were the ones who, a thousand years ago, murdered the goddess and her children, drank their blood and made weapons out of their very bodies." His throat itched as the information was difficult to say. His eyes fell upon Flayn, who looked down in unfathomable grief. She had also been there, back then, as Sothis' memories imbued within the Sword of the Creator told him.

Mercedes and Marianne covered their faces with horror, being comforted by Annette and Hilda respectively, while the most devout students stared at the space without knowing what to think.

Edelgard took a step forward, seeing an opportunity. "Are you saying that we should topple the Church and let the people be free to believe in whatever gods they wish, Professor? This is all SO very surprising..."

Byleth shook his head. "Topple it? No. But it needs immediate reform. The people deserve to know the truth."

"Interesting." The Imperial Princess took the same step back, glancing around to watch everyone's reactions at the same time a loud wail exploded behind Byleth.

It was Rhea.

Her grief was so deep that she completely forgot how many millennia had been since she had been a little girl.

She cried and howled with the pain within her heart. "LEAVE! All of you- leave this place! Mother's- Mother's resting holy ground!" She bellowed as she dug her face deeper within her hands.

Byleth pressed his lips into a thin line, glancing back at Rhea then towards his fellow professors. They all nodded in agreement and started to herd the students to the exit.

"Wait, wait, wait, we're leaving? I still have a lot to ask, though!" Claude scurried to Byleth while Manuela had to physically maim Linhardt out of his spot.

"I'll answer whatever you want." Byleth nodded to the House Leader, then looked over his shoulder to the aghast students. "Whatever you all want. But for now..." he clutched his chest, trying not to think of the pain of losing his one and only friend for good. "For now, let's leave her to mourn on her own." He whispered under Rhea's loud wails.

The Archbishop climbed on the steps and threw herself on the throne, hugging it as though she did her mother, crying like she hadn’t cried in ages past.

I'll protect her from the public scorn however I can... I hope that's enough to fulfill my promise, Sothis.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #byleth fire emblem #sothis fire emblem #rhea fire emblem #my writings #yuki's commissions #spoilers

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psychedelic-ink · 4 years

Text

The Wreckage

Summary: It’s been difficult for Ren to get over the summer camp incident that took place a year ago. Still suffering from nightmares and bottling up everything inside, will Bakugou be able to make Ren open up about his trauma?

Pairing: OC!Ren Nekozawa x Bakugou Katsuki

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Words: 3,326

A/N: This is a commission piece for @everythingbaku Thank you again for commissioning me! Honestly I kind of grew attached to Ren! I hope you like this!

My commissions are open! More information available on my blog.

art by @artzypaw

A nice summer breeze blew past Ren, caressing his soft skin and ruffling up his light blue hair. He had a moment of peace under the night sky decorated with bright stars. He took in a deep breath but immediately wrinkled his nose. A handful of ash had filled his lungs. The smell of burnt wood made him want to puke. His body reacted to the atmosphere and he shivered. Something was wrong.

Without a destination in mind Ren started to run. He knew he had to go somewhere , help someone. But the whom of it had slipped his mind entirely. Ren clenched his teeth. Pained screams reaching his ears from every direction, his legs finally stilled. He frantically looked around trying to understand where the noise was coming from.

He felt as he couldn’t breathe, his mouth wide open he tried to take in a deep breaths only to find that his mouth was filling up with endless ash instead. Falling to his knees, he tried to spit out the material. His hands found his throat, he couldn't breathe, he had to breathe. Digging his nails in to his flesh, He scratched his neck.

His body erupted into a coughing fit, tears stung his eyes. His coughing never ended and he felt as someone had reached down into his throat and started to drag a knife across it. His lungs burned. Before losing consciousness, he saw a set of feet walking towards him. He wanted to get away, he needed to get away. With a dry throat, he tried to call out to Bakugou but only a pathetic whine came out of his parched lips.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Ren’s eyes shot open and his whole body jerked up. Breathing heavily, his hand went to his bedside table, his fingers trembling as he searched for the light switch. Ren calmed down a bit when the light illuminated the dark room, his shadow casting on the wall.

His chest was still heaving up and down. Pulling the sheets off of him, he went to the window. Ren clicked his tongue , annoyed to see that his hands were still shaking. Opening the window, he saw that the sun was slowly starting to shine upon the city. He took in a couple of deep breaths, happy that his lungs were filling with that sweet fresh morning air.

Leaving the window open, he went to sit on the bed. How many more times was he going to be woken up by nightmares. Smacking his dry lips together, his eyes landed on his empty water bottle. Ren groaned as he stood up, letting his feet guide him to the kitchen, he let his thoughts wander.

Two days later and it would been a year since the summer camp incident. A year and he was still seeing nightmares. After that ,all of them had faced many dangers, much worse dangers if he might add, yet still he was seeing nightmares like a child. A lot of people would argue that it was quite normal to see nightmares about such an incident , even if a year might’ve passed but Ren didn’t want it to be normal, he just wanted it to stop. Nobody else was seeing nightmares so why should he?

The worst part was that some of his classmates were noticing that Ren wasn’t acting quite like himself lately. Honestly, that was the only reason he tried to sleep last night. For a while, he had stocked up on coffee and energy drinks so that he could stay up. But when he arrived to class with bloodshot eyes and dark bags under his eyes , there were two theories swimming around the classroom. Ren was either doing drugs or wasn’t sleeping. The latter being the obvious true reason. Bakugou was especially suspicious by this since he knew how much Ren loved to sleep, he loved it so much, in fact, he usually slept until the last minute. This would either end up in him attending class with his pajamas or being late to class. Needless to say Aizawa wasn’t thrilled to see Ren’s pink polka dot pajamas first thing in the morning.

“Are you going to open the fridge?”

Ren flinched at the sudden but familiar voice. He snapped out of his daunting thoughts only to find his hand gripped, around the handle of the fridge, his knuckles white from squeezing too hard. He relaxed his hand and opened the fridge. His warm body welcomed the cold air with open arms. Getting a bottle of ice cold water, he turned to see Bakugou staring at him with an eyebrow raised.

Ren opened the bottle and replied with a confused look of his own.

“What?”

“Why are you up at this hour? It’s way too early.”

Ren shrugged. He knew well that Bakugou was quite suspicious of his current behavior. Ren didn’t want to worry his childhood friend. Avoiding Bakugou’s gaze, he took a couple of big gulps from the bottle. At the same time Ren tried to think of an excuse that he would buy. Why would Ren be awake at such an hour? His lips slightly twitched up when he thought of the perfect excuse. The smirk was so tiny that not even Bakugou could notice.

“I had to go to the bathroom. My stomach hurts.”

Bakugou’s eyes gazed upon Ren’s features. Ren tried hard not to give anything away, his heart beating loudly in his chest. He mentally took in a deep breath when Bakugou sighed and crossed his arms in front of him.

“I feel like you’re bulshitting me.”

“Me? Bulshitting you? Never.”

Ren snickered when he glared at him.

“I’ll kick you.” he said with a small pout on his lips.

Ren’s smirk turned in to a soft smile. He loved seeing the usually super aggressive Bakugou Bakugou pouting, he acted like a literal child at times.But despite everything Ren was happy that his excuse, somewhat , worked. He knew if Bakugou caught him acting suspicious again that there would be no getting away from his interrogation.

Ren, still holding the bottle, crossed his arms in front of him. His thumb going in circles on his own flushed skin in a soothing mater. Now, focusing his eyes on the floor Ren tried to avoid the blond’s heated gaze.

Bakugou noticed this but didn’t say a word.

“Why are you up?” Ren asked , eager to change the subject.

“I’m going to work out a bit, get the juices flowing. You know, with today’s lesson and all.”

“What lesson?”

“Weren’t you listening to Aizawa?” Ren gave him a confused look and he rolled his eyes. “You’re such a dumbass. We’re going to do training exercises at USJ and Thirteen is going to teach us how to use our surroundings and all that shit.”

“Oh?”

“I think they’re going to pair us in hero and villain groups again, like All Might did in our first year.”

“Sounds fun.” Ren replied nonchalantly.

Ren didn’t think much of it at the time. Finishing his bottle of water, he decided to workout alongside Bakugou. Working out usually took his mind off of things and being with Bakugou always cheered him up, making him forget the lurking darkness that his nightmares held.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Ren always felt more at ease in his hero costume. Honestly, he was still surprised that a piece of clothing could cause him so much happiness and sense of security. His gaze landed on his remaining classmates. Bakugou was right, the teachers had divided them into groups and lucky for him he was paired with Bakugou as the “heroes” . A soft smile formed on Ren’s lips when he saw his partner in his hero costume. Ren wasn’t going to lie, he looked good.

Then Ren turned to look at the “villains” which was composed of Todoroki and Kirishima. Thirteen was between the two groups explaining what they were supposed to do and how they should use the environment. The heroes goal was to save the kidnapped victims that were somewhere among the many many trees. The “victims” were Midoriya and Uraraka.

When Thirteen told them to be aware of their surroundings everyone’s eyes gazed upon the area. Both groups were in the mountain zone but Ren didn’t remember it having so many trees and a green scenery. He felt goosebumps on his arms. It eerily looked like the camp they had all been on one year ago. Ren’s heart raced in his chest as his mind went foggy. His eyes frantically continued to scan the area, from afar he could swear he could hear screaming. Ren flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder

“Let’s go.”

Without saying a word, Ren watched as the so called villains vanished into the forest. Ren licked his lips in hope of wetting the overly dry flesh. He had an awful feeling. Why did this training have to be today? Right after seeing a horrible nightmare and just two days away from the anniversary of the incident. Ren didn’t feel comfortable by this situation at all. The only thing that eased his mind a little was that Bakugou was walking in front of him leading the way. He was a man with a mission and he was searching for clues that the victims might have left.

“Maybe they’re in one of the caves?” Ren spoke up, knowing that Bakugou would start fuming with rage at the lack of clues.

“Maybe,” then he groaned. “Why do I have to be the one to save Deku?”

“Oh don’t be like that Kaachan,” Ren hummed a grin tugging at his lips. “He did save you in real life you might as well fake save him as a thank you.”

“Fine, then after this we’ll be even.”

“I don’t think fake saving him is equal to him actually saving you but whatever makes you sleep better at night.”

Bakugou turned to Ren, rolling his eyes, he crossed his arms in front of him.

“You’re the one that said I should save him as a thank you.”

“That’s literally not even remotely close of what I was try-”

Sound of leaves rustling made Ren jolt up and look around. The air had gotten noticeably warmer. Bakugou, also noticing this ,walked towards Ren and stood next to him. His head was tilted to the side.

“That damn half and half bastard,” he said clicking his tongue with annoyance. “He’s probably trying to keep us away until time runs out.”

Ren could only hear ringing in his ears. His hands clenched into fists as he tried to take in deep breaths. He wasn’t at USJ next to Bakugou anymore, he was in the middle hell. The ground that he stood on trembled and twirled. Loosing his balance, Ren fell on to his knees.

Take in deep breaths, this isn’t real.

As the scent of burnt wood filled his nostrils and the sound of leaves crisping up got louder, Ren felt overwhelmed. He had to breathe, why couldn’t he just breathe?! He tried to take in another deep breath, then another. Ren’s violet eyes widened. The all too familiar taste of ash filling his mouth, tears started to sting his eyes.

He felt his whole body being engulfed in darkness. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The crippling feeling of uselessness washed over him. Pounding his fist against the soil, tears streamed down his face. Parting his lips he tried to scream. But the only thing that came out was a dry cough. The taste of ash mixed with the saltiness of his tears made him want to throw up.

“Pastel !”

His eyes shot open. Ren felt dizzy when he realized that he was in the middle of the forest. Bakugou was on his knees and inch away from him, his hand securely wrapped around Ren’s shoulder. Ren’s hand slowly went to his cheek. Feeling the wetness of his own tears, he looked up to Bakugou who was accompanied with Thirteen and the rest.

“What the hell?!” Bakugou growled.

Ren was used to his outbursts so he didn’t care much do dignify Bakugou with a sensical answer. Instead he turned his gaze to the others. Midoriya especially looked worried.

“What happened?” Ren muttered.

“You screamed then collapsed to the ground.” Midoriya answered, nervously scratching the back of his head.

“You also mumbled something about ash filling your mouth.” Todoroki continued. Ren could tell from his voice that he felt somewhat guilty.

“You two should head to Recovery girl.” Thirteen said.

Ren tilted his head to the side. Confused two why they both had to go. He turned to face Bakugou thinking that maybe he missed something. Much expectedly Bakugou was pouting and not facing him. Ren’s heart sunk down when he noticed blood trickling down from his lips. Before Ren could ask any further questions, Bakugou grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him up. Ren’s legs felt like jell-o and had to use Bakugou as support. Luckily for Ren , for once, he said nothing and complied.

“What-” Ren began when they were out of earshot

“You punched me that’s what.” he grumbled. “Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on with you?”

When they finally exited the USJ building Ren took in a deep breath. He said nothing as he let go of Bakugou’s arm being able to feel his legs returning to normal. Ren didn’t want to have this conversation now, so he basically decided to ignore Bakugou’s nagging. This plan failed miserably when Bakugou held him by the arm and pulled him towards his chest.

“Look,” he grunted. “You either tell me what the hell is going on or I’m not going to let go of this damn arm of yours got it?”

Ren knew that he would do as he said. He rolled his eyes and pointed at the benches that were right across the USJ building.

“Fine,” Ren sighed. “Can we at least sit?”

Bakugou let go of Ren’s arm and followed him as he walked towards the benches. Ren sat down with a groan, still feeling a bit sick after the far too real flashback. The bench creaked when Bakugou took his place next to him.

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” Ren muttered, staring at the USJ building.

“Well you don’t really have a choice.” Bakugou replied. He placed both of his hands behind the back of his head and leaned back, getting comfortable. “I can somewhat let the not sleeping thing go but not this. It…” he took in a deep breath. “It was terrifying to hear you sound so scared.”

Ren lowered his eyes to the ground. He could only imagine how much he had frightened his classmates. Ren knew that he at least owed Bakugou an explanation after his breakdown.

“I,” Ren bit his lip. “I’ve been seeing nightmares about the incident at summer camp. It’s always so realistic and it generally goes the same way, me being too weak to save anyone.”

“You’re not weak…”

“Yeah right,” Ren snorted. “I was useless in that whole situation, what if something happened to you?”

“Nothing happened to me,” Bakugou said. He removed one of his arms that was snug behind his head and hit himself in the chest. “See I’m right here.”

“Well, I know that much.” Ren rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. “I know it’s stupid, it’s been a year but I have no idea how to make it go away.” Ren sighed, closing his eyes , he slouched over his bruised knees. “I miss sleeping so much.” he sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

“I bet you do,” Bakugou let out a soft chuckle. “But this is a problem. Maybe you should talk about this with one of the teachers?”

“No way, I don’t want anyone to know I’ve been seeing nightmares about something that happened a year ago.” Ren turned to look at him. “I mean we’ve all been through so much worse since then, it’s just so stupid to be hung up about something like this. Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

Bakugou averted his eyes. He could feel Ren’s never ending gaze on him, Bakugou knew well that he was going to have to cave into Ren’s demands.

“Fine.” he groaned. “But don’t forget that you can come and talk to me anytime.”

“Deal!”

Ren got up as he slapped his hand together. He just wanted this conversation to be over with. He wasn’t planning on bothering anyone about this ever again. The only thing he needed to do was avoid forests and any kind of big fire, that seemed doable.

“I’m serious Ren!”

Without answering him, Ren lead the way towards Recovery Girl’s office knowing that Bakugou would follow him.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was the day of the anniversary of the summer camp and Ren was proud to say that nothing extreme had happened like the USJ incident. But he knew well that this was probably because they had tame classes today. Everyone had already gone to bed and Ren was ready to succumb to the mistress of sleep.

Ren was still being haunted by nightmares but he had come up with a system. If he woke up , he would go wash his face, drink some water and listen to some classical music to help him fall back to sleep. It wasn’t the perfect system and really didn’t take care of anything but at least the dark bags under his eyes had slowly started to vanish.

He stretched much like a cat as he went towards his room. Groaning, he opened the door only to be greeted with the smell of marshmallows.

“What the...?”

Ren stepped in to the room, his head cocked to the side. The room was being illuminated with the soft light of multiple candles. Ren could only assume that the source of the delicious smell of marshmallows were these candles. Taking another step towards the bed, he noticed fresh lavenders on the bed side tables. Leaning over, he took a whiff of the flowers. The scent made his lips form a soft smile.

“Apparently lavender is good for sleeping.”

Startled, Ren turned around. Eyes widening , his lips parted , he saw that Bakugou was leaning against the door frame.

“Did you do this?”

“Who else?” Bakugou snorted. “Today is the anniversary right? I didn’t want you to freak out in your sleep.”

Ren giggled and took a step towards his childhood friend, arms crossed in front of him.

“Aww, look at you being a huge softie.”

“You know what,” Bakugou took a step inside. “If you’re going to be like that I’m taking everything back.”

“Okay okay, I’ll shut up.” Ren replied, lifting both hands in defeat. Needless to say he was touched. He didn’t really expect Bakugou to do all of this for him, he really was a brute with a heart of gold. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. I really do hope you can get some well deserved rest.”

Bakugou turned on his heel and suddenly Ren’s smile wavered. He bit his lip, contemplating to call out to Bakugou or not. Ren didn’t want to stay alone, especially not tonight. His hand reaching out, he called out to the blond.

“Wait.”

He stopped just as he almost disappeared through the door. Turning his head, he gave Ren a confused look, his eyebrows raised.

“What?”

“W-Would you,” Ren stuttered, blood raising to his cheeks.“Stay with me tonight?”

Scratching the back of his head, Ren averted his eyes turning them to the hardwood floor. When he heard the door closing behind the blond, Ren finally let go of the breath he hadn’t realized that he had been holding.

Ren felt his eyes starting to water when Bakugou wrapped both arms around him giving him a gentle and reassuring hug.

“I’d be happy to Pastel.”

#boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #commissions #writing commission #burntcommissions #commision #bokugou katsuki #ren nekozawa #bnha oc #oc #boku no hero academia oc #everythingbaku

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