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moonstrider9904 · 2 years

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Spike

Chapter 5 of The Hunt

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Wolffe x Fem!OC, some Comet x Fem!OC

Series summary: The 104th battalion’s new medic Rose comes into the scene dazzling everyone, ready for anything life as a battalion medic will ofer to her after having spent much too long secluded in a medical station orbiting Rishi. While she forms close friendships with the troopers, she and commander Wolffe never seem to get along. As arguments between them heat up, Wolffe is challenged to make Rose fall in love with him, a game that by no means will end well for either of them.

Chapter summary: Rose and Comet have fostered their feelings for one another, but as Wolffe continues aching for her, a mission that leaves the two of them alone will turn out in disaster for Rose and Comet's relationship.

Warnings/tags: Explicit 18+. SMUT with two different troopers at two different times. Alcohol consumption, the idiots are drunk but not too drunk that they can't consent, i.e, everything is consented here. Hate fucking. Infidelity.

A/N: Ooooh yeah, the smut has arrived!!! For those of you who have read, maybe revisit this smutty smut! If it's your first time reading, enjoy ;)

YEAH RIGHT by Joji inspired this arc.

Word count: 8k

This fic is ongoing and posted to-date on AO3. Cross-posting on tumblr will be in progress over the next couple of weeks. After that, I’ll pick it up where I left off and post any new chapters on both platforms.

Anytime a shore leave extended for the wolf pack, they made sure to enjoy every second. The first three nights were all parties, mostly Rose and Comet having to take care of their drunken comrades and hearing the weirdest and funniest things they happened to say out loud due to the alcohol. It was quite the experience, but there were a few times in which Rose wished she could have a whole bottle to herself.

Whenever she was left alone with Wolffe, for instance.

She figured after saving Comet on Hoth, she and the commander would get along better—and then he tried to make a move on her in his own gruff manner. After that seemed to more or less improve, the two had made out at the lake where Rose had originally intended to take Comet—she still felt like shit about that. But despite having talked to Wolffe about it and deciding there weren’t any hard feelings between them, they still seemed to hate each other and drive the other insane.

It was a dodged bullet, Rose figured. She didn’t dare to imagine what it would be like if she chose to stay with Wolffe instead of Comet. That probably would have been over before a full rotation. Their battles, however, never ceased. Snarky comment after another, glare after growl. At one point, Rose even stuck her tongue out at the commander, certainly earning chuckles from her comrades who acknowledged her charisma, but only making Wolffe’s blood boil with more fervor.

It was obvious to Rose that Wolffe was beginning to despise her, and it always became far more notorious whenever Comet was around, as though he were warning his comrade to run away while he still could. The thought only made Rose want to barf.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Comet’s voice broke her off from her current train of thoughts.

Rose had been looking out the balcony of her room, separate from the clones’ barracks, silently admiring Theed’s landscape while fuming inside. Night had fallen not long before that, and stars were just beginning to gleam in the rich, royal blue sky, and the flickering lights of the city looked like stars on earth that could only have been brought down by the smooth breeze that kissed Rose’s skin, a lot of it exposed by the black silk tank top and panties she wore.

With a teasing smile, Rose turned around and leaned on one of the balcony’s pillars, adopting her best angle to enhance her chest and her legs as her eyes scanned Comet with playful whispers of desire, at least until she raised a brow at him when she noticed what he was wearing.

“Is that my sweater?” She asked him.

Comet chuckled and ran his hand over his chest, brushing the coral-colored yarn that made up Rose’s favorite oversized sweater, his lower half only covered by a pair of fitted black boxers. “I got cold waiting for you, fireball,” he’d gotten used to addressing her with a word for his own name.

“Sorry,” her smile was sincere and apologetic now as she took soft, barefoot paces towards the bed, her features readopting her spunk when she finally reached him. “Well, enlighten me. What was I thinking?”

Comet smirked at Rose as she sat on her bed, once again posing to purposefully make her breasts appear their best for him. His strong, calloused hands, those of a soldier, found her hips and ran up the sides of her torso and back down, the second time around underneath the thin silk blouse.

“Well, I watched you while you were out at the balcony—like I usually do, because you’re so damn hot—and I noticed your brow was furrowed and you were pinching your lower lip,” Comet said. “Which I wish you wouldn’t do, but I know you do it when you’re anxious or just thinking too much.”

Rose smiled softly at her man, heat rushing to her face at the sight of his unbelievably kind and soft smile.

“You know, I’m beginning to get why you like oversized sweaters so much,” Comet lightly tugged on the loose fabric. “They’re comfortable as fuck.”

“Yeah, well, you’re gonna have to take it off, sweetheart,” Rose chuckled. “That one’s mine.”

“You’ll have to rip it off me,” Comet smirked at her.

Rose’s laugh was rich, playful, sprinkled with a fine dash of seduction as she crawled on top of him, straddling his waist. She bent forward and rested her forearms on Comet’s chest, teeth flashing at him in a charming grin as she bit that full lower lip that Comet loved so much.

“I love that sweater too much to rip it, so here’s what’s going to happen,” Rose purred at him as her fingers danced on his chest. “I’m going to ask you nicely, and you’re going to take off my sweater.”

“An item for an item, then,” Comet replied, matching her tone. “I lose the sweater, you lose the panties.”

“Oh? Not my top?”

“I really like that top,” he bared his teeth seductively at her, his hands groping firmly at her ass. “Now take off the panties.”

Rose cooed, pleased by Comet’s sense of authority and dominance. He wasn’t the one in charge of things around the squad, but he surely had it in him to be a leader, and Rose welcomed that in the bedroom. She perched herself up on her knees and wiggled her hips softly as her fingers teased the rims of her panties, pulling them down painfully slowly. Comet’s eyes darkened at the sight of the beautiful woman in front of him, all but stripping for him. Swiftly, Rose shifted her weight to the side and she tossed the panties playfully on the ground, her gaze never leaving Comet’s for a second.

“Now take off the sweater,” Rose mimicked him with a hitch in her breath.

“Only ‘cuz you held your end of the deal,” Comet grinned, sitting up halfway to remove the sweater and toss it gently to the edge of the bed. He growled at Rose, beckoning her to come closer to him, and with her eyes scanning every line of his muscles and every scar that contrasted with his bronze skin, while his eyes remained fixed on her cleavage and the way her hair fell in graceful waves down her breasts, dangling softly as she bent over.

“Please, just kiss me,” Comet said, his eyes sparkling flames in front of her.

Without a second in between, Rose lowered herself down and crashed her lips on his, kissing him with hunger as both of their bodies ignited together. Comet ran his hands up and down her thighs, teasing the sensitive skin near her wetness but not touching her there just yet. Rose dug her fingers into his scalp and played with some of his curls, sending shivers down every inch of his skin. She rocked her hips against him, covering the black fabric of his boxers with her arousal and letting it bleed through, soaking his already throbbing length. A low growl formed in Comet’s chest, silently speaking his most sinful desires. He was so dazed that it took him a couple of seconds to come to his senses and realize Rose’s lips had left his and began their way down his neck.

She nipped at his sensitive skin, barely letting her teeth graze his warmth and she was already drawing out whimpers from him. He muttered how much he loved her, how utterly amazing she was; he thought he was only speaking to himself, but he said the words loud enough for Rose to hear, and she smirked into his skin as her kisses sailed down the middle of his chest. A string of curses in fluent Mando’a was spoken in his beautiful, deep voice as Rose softly trailed her tongue down his abdomen, perfectly marking out the comet tattoo he had on his belly that resembled the symbol on his helmet, all while her fingers delicately traced patterns on his hips and later his thighs as she got lower. Rose had barely done anything to him yet, but Comet felt his eyes wanting to roll back when he felt her breath fanning on his shaft over the fabric.

If there was anything Rose liked doing in bed, it was teasing. The tips of her fingers lightly tapped on Comet’s hipbones, approaching the rim of his boxers only to back away again. Comet grunted and looked down at her, his eyes pleading, pooled with fire; just having her there in front of his cock shot fire through his veins, and soon he was trembling under her touch.

“Please,” he choked out.

Rose chuckled, the sound sweet and seductive, his own femme fatale. “Such a nice boy you are, Comet.”

He shuddered at the mention of his name. “Rose…”

“Yes, Comet?” Rose knew exactly what she was doing to him.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his hand traveling to her hair to ball the wavy black locks into a tight fist.

The room was once again filled with Rose’s laughter, shocking Comet with how it could sound so playful and even innocent, yet so provocative, craving. But as he continued to process the delightful sound of Rose’s laughter, she finally wrapped her fingers around the hem of Comet’s boxers and pulled them down all the way, tossing them aside for them to land just beside her panties that rested on the floor.

Comet’s length stood proud, long, already dripping with precum merely caused by Rose’s kissing and teasing. She looked up at his eyes just as she inched closer to his cock, breath brushing over the tender skin. Comet’s chest heaved up and down, his hand still stroking at her hair, all while he waited for her to lick him, suck on him, do anything to him. Still in a manner of teasing, Rose grinned at him and let the very tip of her tongue lick from the base to his tip, savoring in the taste of his precum, taking in every groan and mutter let out by Comet.

She hit her own limit too. Comet looked delicious in front of her and, driven wild by his taste, she finally took in as much of Comet’s length as she could. Rose moaned softly at the feeling of his cock throbbing inside her mouth. She ran her tongue swiftly over the veins of his length, aided by her hands to massage his balls and have him writhing underneath her. He saw white, only feeling her mouth on his cock, her saliva dripping down his balls, and just when he rounded up the strength to look at her, Rose’s gaze met his and she parted from his cock, mouth parted and tongue hanging out ever so slightly to emphasize the string of saliva that still connected her to the tip of his cock.

“Kriff…” Comet muttered as he took his hand to stroke her cheek.

With lustful eyes, Rose lowered herself back on him, her red lips parted around his cock, cheeks hollowing as she sucked him raw. A long, sinful moan escaped Comet; he knew he was close. With his hand, he gently beckoned Rose to look at him again, buying him some time before he could form words again.

“Rose…” he said. “Come here, love… I want to cum inside you…”

She cooed with excitement, her mouth still stuffed with his length. She pulled out with a loud pop! as his cock was set free again, and with a large grin, Rose crawled up to Comet and lied back on the mattress, leaving for him to top her.

Comet brightly smiled at her, bewildered by the fact that he was finally sharing intimacy with Rose. He kissed her lips passionately, reveling in how soft and warm her lips felt against his, only embellished by the fruity taste of her lipstick. Comet softly massaged her breasts over the silk top she still wore, pinching her pebbled buds just enough to make her whimper.

Fuck, she was hot.

Comet kissed down her neck, sucking and nibbling at her tender skin to mark her with a prominent hickey to announce she was his. Still playing with her nibbles, leaving the hickey on her skin made Rose moan sweetly at him, her thighs clenching around his figure. He kissed along the edges of her top, along the cleavage and up the strap of her shoulder to take it between his teeth and growl playfully at her before kissing her lips again as he parted her thighs with his hands.

Rose nodded at him, grinning with a blend of love and thirst. Comet grinned back and inched himself into her tight walls, moaning at how hot and wet she was and how she squeezed around his cock. A brief explosion of pleasure burst in his chest the more he pushed himself in as he looked her in the eyes, and he pecked her lips when his tip reached her deepest corner.

Comet began with a sensual pace, always making sure to be looking at her. His hands held the sides of her head, fingers combing through strands of her hair. Rose watched as his figure swayed up and down with every rock of his hips. The fullness blew her away and drew moans from her she didn’t even know she could make. It had been a while since the last time she’d had sex with anyone, and to be doing it for the first time in a while, with Comet, it set her on fire in ways she couldn’t explain.

Heat and pressure bundled in her womb, liquid heat flowing down her body and filling every corner. Comet picked up his pace the more he felt himself getting closer. His eyes pierced into Rose’s; her hands traveled up and down his back, letting her feel every clench and release of his muscles. At last, Comet’s luscious pace had morphed into an unrelenting tempo, and the obscene sounds of skin slapping and Rose’s wetness squelching climbed above her moaning, They were both ready to release, ready to come undone in each other.

They were both moaning out each other’s names. Comet was the first one to hit the precipice, grunting and choking out Rose’s name as he lost complete control of his hips when the hot ropes of white shot inside her, his voice rendered to breathy moans just as Rose’s escalated when she hit her peak too. Her pussy gripped Comet’s cock even harder, and her body quaked with every wave of her orgasm. Comet took his thumb to lightly trace over her clit, only enhancing the pleasure and turning her moans into beautiful screams of bliss.

Comet pulled out of her just before he’d faint from overstimulation, and his body fell limp on top of hers. Despite his current physical weakness, he managed to wrap his arms around Rose and squeezer to him, lying beside her. He planted several kisses on her temple and her forehead, and as Rose caught her breath, her hands rested tenderly on his chest as she reveled in his warmth and the overall softness of his presence.

“You’re as amazing as I always dreamed you’d be,” Comet whispered.

Rose looked up at him. “You too, love.”

He smiled brightly, eyes closing gently as he drifted further into slumber. As she felt herself slipping off too, the gentle night breeze of Naboo pranced into the room and swirled around her body. Rose was sure that, as lovely as it felt, it would never feel better than lips on her skin, and with that thought she fell asleep too.

The sun rose over Naboo in yet another wonderful morning, with a shining blue sky, birds slinging, flowers in all their beauty and glory, sunlight reflecting of the lakes and rivers of the lovely city of Theed. Never had ordinary life seemed so beautiful to Rose, but of course, anything would so long as she held onto Comet’s hand.

So far, there were no plans for the day. No errands to run. Free as birds, Rose was ready to spend a whole day with Comet after the romantic night prior to that lovely morning. As she looked at him, she remembered the gleam in his eyes as they were molded into one, the sounds he made, the way his hands felt on her. And whenever he looked at her, he smiled widely, only fueling the flame between them. Their love was almost tangible, visible, obvious to anybody who saw it. A couple of lovers, glowing, each only belonging to the other—

“Why the fuck were you not at the barracks last night?”

Rose and Comet winced silently and turned around. While they were both dressed in civvies, commander Wolffe was fully armored, and he glared at them like they’d both just set off a bomb on a group of refugees.

“Hey, commander,” Comet chuckled. “Want me to lend you a shirt so you don’t have to wear that all day?”

“Answer the question, trooper,” Wolffe growled, not bothering to look at Rose, and trying his best not to look at their hands joined together.

Comet’s eyes quickly darted to Rose before he softly laughed again. “You want the short version or the long one?”

Rose blushed and couldn’t help a little laugh of her own. Only then did Wolffe’s gaze find her. It wasn’t like Wolffe didn’t know that Comet had spent the night wrapped in Rose’s arms, most likely after a very passionate session of loving. It only made the commander bare his teeth.

“If you must know, I was with this lovely lady right here,” Comet let go of Rose’s hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

“You have to report to the barracks.”

“We’re on shore leave,” Comet said as reasonably as he could. “You said yourself once we had a bit more freedom on shore leaves.”

“And I was in my official room,” Rose intervened. “Still, technically, part of our assigned barracks. Comet didn’t step a foot out of place.”

“I’m addressing my trooper,” Wolffe snarled.

“Okay, I think you can avoid talking like that to her for once,” Comet stopped him.

The two clone troopers, often on good terms, puffed at each other; the testosterone was nearly tangible as they bared their teeth to one another, Comet clearly challenging the alpha wolf.

“Stop,” Rose stepped in between them, her hands resting on Comet’s chest gently to get him to stand down, but the sight only made Wolffe feel worse, and he was getting pretty damn tired of feeling worse by seeing them together.

“You realize you don’t have the day off,” Wolffe evaded Rose and addressed Comet. “Neither of you do.”

“Excuse me?” Rose.

“Comet would know if he’d returned to the barracks,” Wolffe said.

“What about me? I don’t sleep in the same barracks, when was I supposed to know?” Rose challenged him too.

“Early in the morning, but you clearly slept in,” Wolffe dissed her. “Comet, you need to help out at the cafeteria for the refugees. Corvis took the night shift, it’s your turn. Sinker and Boost will be there to help you.”

“I assume you’re going to split us up again,” Comet caught onto Wolffe’s intentions.

“Yes,” the commander replied shamelessly. He looked at Rose, his gaze still tainted with all the bubbling anger he felt, but he sighed regretfully afterwards. “I hate to assign you on this mission because it’s far less dynamic, but the queen’s uncle is sick and he’s requested every medic on hand to be nearby.”

“So I have to go help him,” Rose’s on-duty voice came out.

“Yes, and no,” Wolffe said, his voice gruff, yet his eyes oddly displaying sincerity, shocking Rose. “He just wants you in the building. Just in case. He already has two nurses and a doctor formally looking after him, but he’s both paranoid and egotistical. He wants all available medics, that includes you.”

“So I’m just going to stand there?” Rose asked.

“If it helps, the queen protested,” Wolffe told her. “And we’ll be in a big house.”

“We?” Her lips curled in disgust.

“Because you’re part of a GAR squadron, at least one other trooper has to be there with you—”

“Send Comet with me,” Rose said, her tone final. “You go to the cafeteria.”

“Are you giving me an order?” Wolffe snarled.

“I’m offering you a kind suggestion that’ll clearly be better for everyone,” Rose replied with an arrogant smirk as her arm linked around Comet’s, right in the middle for the commander to see.

Wolffe sighed again. He hated that he had to pull rank. He hated that he had to—and he hated to admit—come between Rose and Comet. It wasn’t his plan for the day to go that way, but higher ups had given him those instructions, and he had no choice but to follow them. He wasn’t going to put his troopers’ personal relationships before their duties, and though Wolffe was glad for his vod and, detestably, for Rose, his most despicable corner was also glad they wouldn’t be together the whole day. That same corner was the same one that made him drink too much the first night at the bar and insisted he hold Rose in his arms again someday despite already having made out with her.

Yeah, not even Wolffe understood all those feelings. They disgusted him.

“Protocol calls for a commanding officer when it comes to the royal family,” Wolffe explained. “I had no control over this, and Comet cannot be the one to assist you.”

“Give him your kama, he’ll pass for you,” Rose said.

Wolffe rolled his eyes, about to snap. “Did you not hear me? It’s protocol for the royal family. Don’t make me tell you again, we’re going.”

Rose sighed in defeat. “Fine.”

She was about to kiss Comet goodbye when she remembered Wolffe was still there, and she glared at him. “You mind?”

With a grimace, Wolffe turned around. Behind him, Rose’s gaze softened when her eyes fell on Comet. He clearly wasn’t amused either, but he also softened as he looked at her and held her hands.

“See you tonight?” Rose asked.

“I’ll sneak out,” Comet smirked at her.

They smiled at each other, and Comet lowered down to kiss her softly, though it was more than obvious to Wolffe they were kissing even though his back was turned on them. He even picked up on an incredibly soft moan that escaped Rose, and his whole skin prickled with both anger and desire.

“Don’t have too much fun,” Rose whispered softly when they broke the kiss.

“Impossible,” Comet smiled. “You won’t be there. I won’t be having any fun.”

“Well, don’t tempt fate,” Rose chuckled.

“I’m not,” he said confidently, tapping her chin. “Love you.”

“Love you,” she reciprocated.

His hand brushed hers until the very last moment before he walked away, glaring subtly at Wolffe as he left. Rose was looking at the ground when Comet got out of sight and, reluctantly, her gaze finally landed on Wolffe.

She was oftentimes not too happy to see him, but at that moment, Wolffe knew how much she hated him.

“Big house, huh?” She spoke. “Is there gonna be booze?”

“Most likely,” Wolffe replied. “Though you taking any of it will be frowned upon, obviously.”

Rose feigned a smile at him. “I’ll share. Heavens know I’ll need it if I’m spending a whole day with you.”

“Rose—”

“Consider it the tax that pays for our armor,” Rose scoffed as she began walking off with a dignified sway of her hips. “Lead the way.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes, reminding himself constantly how downright infuriating that woman could be, as if it would help either of them.

Not two minutes had gone by after Rose and Wolffe arrived at the mansion of the queen’s uncle and she was already thinking of ways to sneak out the trash chute—she would have gone through it were it not for the compactor. If no one was talking to them, Rose would sneak an I hate you, this is all your fault glare at the commander, and it was clear to him she no longer had any respect for him.

Apologetically, a handmaiden with big eyes walked up to her and Wolffe. Just by laying gazes on her, Rose and Wolffe knew she was the one responding to all the confused medics there against their will.

“I’m really sorry for all of this,” said the handmaiden. “He might not be as sick as he thinks he is, but the queen’s uncle sure is a bit… demented.”

“We won’t tell, don’t worry,” Rose nodded. “I take it no one’s really doing anything?”

“No,” said she. “He has his two nurses with him and they’re doing more than enough. I’d let you all go, but protocol won’t let me. Not when it’s been his strict request to keep medics on alert until he’s better.”

“We understand,” Rose replied kindly. “So… we just stay here?”

The handmaiden nodded. “It’s a big house, so the least I can tell you is to make yourself at home. Several rooms are available, perhaps you’d like to spend some of your shore leave there?” She picked up on Rose’s civilian outfit. “It’s the least and most I can do.”

Rose was clearly annoyed by the whole thing, but her gaze was soft and understanding towards the handmaiden. Seeing her that way gave Wolffe an odd sense of hope, thinking perhaps they could spend the day peacefully, for once.

“I appreciate it,” Rose said. “You have my comm frequency. It might not happen, but if you do need me, hit me up.

The handmaiden nodded and smiled. “Thanks.”

Rose nodded off and went to find her way around the opulent mansion with Wolffe following closely after her. They had to look in a couple of rooms that were already occupied before finding one that was free. Rose waltzed herself in and immediately went towards the cupboards resting on the wall, fumbling around the cabinets and grinning once she finally found the one stuffed with bottles of liquor and whiskey.

“You’re not serious,” Wolffe scowled.

“You’re still here?” Rose stood up, bottle of whiskey in her hand, and carelessly, she rid it of its cap and drank directly from it, grimacing at the way it burned down her throat. “Damn, that’s good. Here,” She threw the bottle at Wolffe. He reacted quickly enough to catch it before disaster happened; with a cold rush over his body, he looked back up to meet Rose’s gaze, cold and unamused. She knew what she was doing, the message she wanted to get across.

Rose grabbed another bottle from the cabinet and opened it too, ready to keep it to herself as she stepped out onto the balcony, leaving Wolffe alone in the room to inevitably drink as well.

The hours dragged. Rose lowkey hoped everyone else would desert the mansion if only it would mean giving her something to do. But her comm didn’t ring a single time, and the day was just too quiet. She even tried calling Comet’s comm frequency a couple times, estimating more or less when he’d have a recess or a break, but he never picked up. On top of the day being excruciatingly slow, it was lonely. It reminded her of the occasions in which she’d have free time at the space station orbiting Rishi, and she didn’t like it. She was out on a balcony, a whole city in front of her, and she still felt boxed in.

The sun was beginning to set and Rose counted the minutes before she was officially allowed to go home. The whiskey had disappeared gradually, the bottle only about a quarter full now, sending that weird tingling sensation down her body. The wind felt cold on her cheeks, prompting her to go inside. Stepping in, she found Wolffe’s figure sitting on the couch, upright and with a datapad in his hands, but his bottle of whiskey was even more drained than hers was.

Rose looked at him with eyes that were both tired and annoyed. “You’re still here.”

Wolffe mirrored her gaze. “Of course I am.”

She scoffed. “I’m going back outside.”

“Will you stop behaving like a spoiled brat already?” Wolffe set the datapad aside and walked toward her, his broad figure already towering before her.

“Oh, I’m the brat?” Rose walked slowly closer to him. “You got your way! You ruined my day!”

Wolffe growled and bared his teeth slightly at Rose, who had to admit the tingling sensation went straight down between her legs when she saw Wolffe’s expression.

She shot him a snarky grin. “You’re such a bastard, you know that?”

“How much have you been drinking?” Wolffe stole a glance at the bottle she held at her side, but let his eyes linger at the cleavage of her little black blouse, and only then did he notice the size of her breasts and how perky they looked. His gaze wondered down her green and black plaid miniskirt that teased just enough around her hips and her inner thighs, the smooth skin exposed and looking invitingly soft. He knew she was hot, but damn, was he only realizing how sexy her legs were, how sexy she was as a whole.

“Less than you, thank you for your kind concern,” Rose curtsied as a mockery. “Now leave me alone.”

But Wolffe took just one more step closer to her, enough for his breath to fan over her. She looked up at him with unchanged eyes until she smiled with spite. The two locked eyes with one another, both full of whiskey, but still clear enough to think. When Wolffe growled at her, he knew what he was doing, and so did she.

“I hate you,” she said quietly.

Wolffe felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end and his trousers growing chafingly tight under his codpiece. He slammed his bottle down on the nearby caf table, took her bottle, and did the same, all while his eyes pierced hers. His hand slid up her chest, easily gliding over the curve of her breasts before it reached her neck. His slender fingers wrapped around her neck, and he pressed just barely enough to lightly cut air from her, drawing a short, choked, sinful moan from her.

The commander then leaned in dangerously close to her lips and whispered, “Say that again. I fucking dare you.”

Rose smirked again, not cowering down like she expected he thought she would.

“I hate you,” she repeated through gritted teeth.

Wolffe’s fingers squeezed a tad more around her throat, enough to draw a delicious chirp from her.

“Yeah? Well, fuck you,” Wolffe growled.

Rose chuckled, looking as if she were about to spit at him, her eyes alight with spunk and with lust, and she took her own hand up to his throat and squeezed just as lightly as he was.

“Fuck me yourself, you bastard.”

Wolffe’s lips then came crashing down on hers, locking them in a kiss bursting with raw craving and fire. Their hands on each other’s throats, both were groaning and grunting as their lips continued to eat each other. Wolffe used his spare hand to throw away bits of his armor and then ran it up and down Rose’s thigh. He released her throat only for a few seconds to remove his gloves, and immediately after, his hand returned to her neck while the other one slid up her skirt and pushed her panties aside to rub her clit, too wet for her to have any defense.

Rose bit her lip and moaned as she rocked her hips against Wolffe’s fingers, while his gaze continued prying into her. She could almost see the flames in his brown eyes, but her own little whimpers distracted her from that. Liquid fire darted through her body as she began pulling on the top of Wolffe’s blacks, rid of armor, and she got the fabric off him to reveal his strong torso, the bronze skin lined with muscles and scars. Unlike other troopers, Wolffe had prominent chest hair, and Rose couldn’t find a way not to moan at the sight of the thick layer that faded down his belly into a treasure trail that led to his hardening length.

“You like me, don’t you, bunny?” Wolffe growled, a smirk tainting his lips.

“I fucking hate you,” Rose whispered, her voice contradicted by tiny whines as his fingers didn’t cease teasing her clit. “I despise you, Wolffe.”

“You’re not a fucking bundle of joy yourself,” he bared his teeth as he slipped his middle finger down her dripping entrance and kept his thumb at the sensitive little bud. “You’re insufferable… arrogant…”

“And yet, you have a cute pet name for me,” Rose innocently pouted her lips at him and prided herself in riling him up further.

“You know what a bunny is to a wolf?” His hand squeezed her throat. “A prey. You’re mine, bunny… you’re all mine...”

“You’ve wanted me from the start,” she chuckled. “That explains a lot.”

Wolffe growled. “You’re aggravating.”

“You’re repulsive,” she panted in response.

“Nauseating,” he countered.

“Odious,” Rose whimpered out, her voice then strained by a long moan just as she neared her climax at Wolffe’s skillful fingering. Her nails dug into his back, making Wolffe writhe with a hungry groan, while her gaze lingered down his chest. She threw her head back against the wall, ready to feel her orgasm take over her body, when Wolffe pulled his hand away and walked over to the couch.

Rose laughed. “Get back here and finish the job, you coward.”

“You’re going to have to hop into my den, bunny,” Wolffe emphasized as he removed his belt and threw it aside followed by the armor on his thighs, and finally, his codpiece, making his large bulge visible.

Fervor exploded in Rose’s body as she walked up to Wolffe and threw her arms around his back, wiggling out of her clothes as Wolffe pulled her shirt off from her torso and took her panties off to throw them aside, leaving her with only her skirt and her adorable black lace bra.

“Fuck,” he grunted as his hands firmly grabbed her ass, lifting her up. She hopped onto him and wrapped her legs around his torso, and he finally lowered her down on his cock and guided her body for her to bounce on his shaft at a merciless rhythm that made Rose’s eyes roll back and moans drip from her lips.

“Be quiet, bunny,” Wolffe’s tone was deceptively caring. “Other people in the mansion are going to hear what a little slut you are.”

Her laughter was rich and provocative; heat pooled in every corner of her body and made her see stars all around her. She felt herself squeeze around his cock that throbbed inside her as he continued to fuck her, his balance never wavering in his standing position. His most primal instincts shone through when he noticed a hickey on her neck and, asserting his dominance, he growled and marked her neck with another two, nibbling and sucking at her skin and drawing obscene sounds from Rose.

One of her hands combed through his curls, tugging slightly on them. Wolffe only had to keep one of his hands on her hips, and the other one ruffled through Rose’s goddess-like wavy locks as his balls kept swinging, hips striking her ass, both engulfed in steamy, raw pleasure. Not long after, her walls squeezed around his pulsating member, and Rose finally hit the peak she desperately longed for. Her moans, strained in an effort to not be loud, danced into Wolffe’s ears, pushing him over his edge too. He growled, kneaded his fingers into her meaty flesh, kept her forehead on his to look into her eyes, moaning out the word bunny as he reminded her she’d always belonged to him.

Wolffe grunted as he spilled himself inside her, his essence painting her all-too-sensitive walls. He relished in the sweet, high-pitch whines Rose let out at the sensation of being stuffed by his cum, and then, their bodies relaxed. Wolffe kept carrying Rose, his head buried in the crook of her neck. Gently, he lowered down onto the couch, sitting down with her legs swung over him, her body cradled in his strong arms as his lips trailed kisses along her neck and jawline.

He simply held her. Her scent invaded his senses, bringing him from a state of lust to one of peace. She was finally in his arms, her body against his, where she belonged, with who she belonged. Oh, she felt perfect in his grip, small and sweet, soft, safe. Wolffe backed up from her neck and his eyes sought out hers before landing on her beautiful lips, tainted red, and he leaned down hoping to feel their full form against his.

But Rose backed away. Her eyes widened in horror and she squirmed out of his grip, her chest heaving up and down as she panted, taking in the full weight of what she’d done as the ecstasy died down.

What have I done?

She scrambled around the room to find her blouse and her panties, her hands shaking in the process. Wolffe got up from the couch and pulled his clothes over him too, holding out a hand to try and steady Rose.

“Rose,” he spoke. “Rose, it’s okay.”

“No,” she panted. “No, it isn’t.”

“Rose—”

“I just willingly cheated on Comet…” her broken voice said, more to herself than to Wolffe.

The commander sighed, ignoring his own wound. “Rose.”

“Listen to me,” she said. “You and I don’t like each other. This never happened, and if it did, it was meaningless, you hear me? It meant nothing.”

Rose gathered her things and exited the room without a second thought, without looking back, without letting Wolffe say it wasn’t meaningless to him.

Naboo was veiled in the night now. Rose snuck out of the mansion, tears staining her eyes, making them sting with the cool wind. She ran down the streets back to headquarters, careful not to find anyone, and she hid behind a pillar at headquarters’ fancy lobby, rummaging around her purse for her comm.

She had to tell Comet. Hiding it from him would only make it worse. She loved him. She didn’t want to hurt him anymore, and she knew he at the very least deserved to know. Hands shaking, Rose dialed his frequency again, desperately hoping he’d pick up this time.

“Hey,” Comet’s voice answered on the other end of the comm.

“Comet?” Rose couldn’t keep her voice from shaking. “Comet, where are you? I-I need to talk to you?”

“I’m just heading back to headquarters,” Comet sounded on alert, clearly having picked up on the note of her voice. “I’ll meet you at your room, alright?”

“Yeah,” she answered and hung up. She rushed to her room, not bothering to look around corners to recognize anybody, certainly hoping not to run into Wolffe again. Her room was empty and silent, and she hurried to sit at the bed after closing the door behind her, hands pressed together as her thumbs fiddled with each other, every second feeling eternal.

Finally, Comet arrived, and with him was a look of worry and something Rose picked up on to resemble regret. It pained her that he’d be the one to feel that way. Heavens knew she was the one stained with remorse.

Comet instantly picked up on her worried expression. He closed the door behind her and went to sit next to her on the bed, taking his hands in hers.

“I’m here,” he said. “What is it?”

“Comet, I—” Rose’s voice broke, against all her pride. “I—”

“Talk to me,” Comet scanned her with worry.

Ultimately, Rose broke into tears. “I got drunk and I slept with Wolffe!”

Comet gasped, overwhelmed with sensations. Rose’s revelation, her sobs, the feeling he already carried with him before even reaching headquarters. He watched as she broke down before him, and his first instinct was to hug her close to him and rest her head on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Comet!”

He held her in front of him again. “Hey, hey, listen to me. Rose, listen to me.”

Sniffling, Rose looked at him.

“Was it consensual?”

“Yes,” Rose answered without a doubt. “Yes, it was, but still… It’s worse, I—I let it happen, Comet, but it meant nothing! It meant nothing, I promise you…”

She hugged him again, sobbing loudly into his chest. “I’m so sorry, Comet… I love you, you know I do. I love you and only you.”

Every word hit Comet like a dagger, but he knew he had to be there for her now. Whatever happened throughout the day didn’t matter, he had to be there to help Rose.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “Rose, look at me.”

She lifted her gaze. Her crying had quieted down, but her eyes were still puffy and stained.

“We all make mistakes,” he said, gently rubbing her cheek. “We’re not perfect. And I believe you. I know it didn’t mean anything to you.”

She sniffled. “It really didn’t. I love you, Comet.”

He smiled sadly at her. “I love you too.”

“Can you please find a way to forgive me?” She asked him, voice full of hope and resentment at once.

His heart squeezed, thinking in any case, he had no right to claim anything of her.

“I forgive you,” he said. “Even though there’s nothing much to forgive.”

“There is,” Rose strained, threatening to become a mess of tears again.

“Well then, I forgive you,” he hugged her gently. “Come here… Don’t cry, please…”

Rose tried her best to quiet herself down, still sniffling into Comet’s chest.

“Thank you,” Rose said. At the moment, she couldn’t bring herself to say much more due to her voice, but she was eternally grateful. She’d screwed up big time, which was undeniable, but Comet had a heart of gold.

And that heart of gold was the only reason Comet’s heart ached with emotions, for as Rose hugged him, her hand hovered just over the pouch in his belt where the new girl’s comm frequency rested inside.

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batsandbugs · 3 years

Text

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 4: The Three Stooges

AN: At least it hasn’t been two months again 😅. Let’s check in with the other batboys and see how they’re handling Damian and Marinette’s chaos.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Tim wondered when his day took a solid dive off the cliffs of normal and into the waters of weird.

It probably started when Dick dragged them out of bed at eight in the morning – on a Saturday – piled them into the car, and drove them an hour and a half out of the city to an IKEA. If they had actually been there to shop they would have either burned the store down or killed one another.

Not that those things were off the table yet.

Tim had work, actual work, that he could be doing. But no, instead he was playing a demented game of hide-and-go-seek, which was careening into an all-out war. The destroyed shelving units, shopping carts, and forklift were unmistakable evidence of that.

How had the demon spawn accomplished this in less than a minute?

Bruce would kill them, once he came back from off-world.

That is if Alfred didn’t get to them first.

“Uh, order 177? Shit, my pay isn't enough for this.”

The words shook Tim from his stupor. He walked over to the counter.

“Hi,” he said, flashing his most charming CEO grin. “I have a quick question?”

The server's fixed smile contrasted with his dull eyes.

“I need to know what way the boy who ordered this headed.”

“No.”

Tim sighed, “Look, it’s important. My brother-”

“I mean, no, it wasn’t a boy.”

Tim paused. “Huh?”

“It was a girl, a teen girl. Black hair, big blue eyes, French accent. She was sitting over there,” he waved at an empty table. “But I think she walked away before that happened.” Referring to the giant train wreck occurring a few aisles over.

“Oh,” said Tim. “Thanks.”

“Do you want the order?”

Tim held back an annoyed sigh.

“Sure.”

So that’s how he, Jason, and Dick, sat at the abandoned picnic table, staring at the abandoned meal bought with Damian’s credit card. Jason grabbed a couple of fries and shoved them in his mouth.

“That’s evidence, nitwit,” hissed Tim.

Jason ignored him, stabbing a meatball with the plastic fork. “What? It’s going to go to waste. Girlie obviously ain’t coming back for it.”

“We should be more worried about how a random girl used Damian’s credit card!”

“She could have stolen it?” offered Dick.

“Demon spawn would have broken her arm before getting pickpocketed,” countered Jason, eating another fry. Silence. A weird glint appeared in Jason's eye. He turned to Tim. “What did you say the girl looked like again?”

“Black hair, blue eyes, French accent.”

“Shit,” muttered Jason.

“What?”

“I think I ran into her earlier, about an hour and a half ago. Asked her if she had run into demon spawn – she sounded confused and tourist-like. But maybe…”

“Maybe she’s working with him?” offered Tim.

“Could be.”

“Damian? Working with another person? A stranger?” Dick shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like him.”

Jason shoved another fry into his mouth. “The brat’s a competitive little shit, if he thought teaming up would help him get ahead, he’d do it in a heartbeat.” He pointed a fry at Tim. “Can you look at the security footage?”

“I’m already two steps ahead of you,” Tim said, flashing his phone with the hacked in security camera footage on-screen. Jason and Dick huddled in close as a small girl walk on screen and stood at the counter.

“Yep, that’s her. Can you ID her, Timmy?”

Tim rolled his eyes, “This is a smartphone, Jay, not a laptop.”

“I thought Mr. World’s Second Greatest Detective would be prepared for anything.”

“Well excuse me for not having facial recognition software, on my phone.”

“Guys chill.”

“Shut up, Dick,” Jason and Tim said in unison.

The footage played out and they watched the girl order two meals and pay with Damian’s credit card. They switched to another camera when she left and sat at the picnic table. A few minutes later Jason and Tim walked into frame.

“Look, there! She tenses. Look at her body language, she’s panicking. She knows who you two are.” Dick looked shocked that, yes, Damian had teamed up with a partner.

They watched the girl panic, although she managed to keep her body from reacting too much. She placed her phone to her ear and walked away from her spot.

“Who is she talking to?”

“Maybe Damian was watching out of sight?”

“Shoot, Tim, she’s out of frame. Do we have another angle?”

It took another minute or so, but Tim found the right security camera catching the mysterious girl leaving the food court. As she walked away the image on the screen flickered, and a moment later the shelving units fell.

“Oh crap,” swore Jason. “Do you think she has magic? Fuck, it would be just our luck if demon spawn teamed up with someone dangerous.”

Dick shook his head. “It could be a coincidence. We didn’t see her do anything. The chaos could have been a coordinated effort between her and Damian.”

Tim wasn’t so sure. “Come on Dick, you’ve been in the game long enough to know just because something looks one way, doesn’t mean it's true.”

They watched the girl hurry out of sight, this time it was much more difficult to follow her progress through the store. She would randomly duck in and out of showrooms, coming out differently than how she came in. If the three boys hadn’t been trained in stealth and detection for years, they would have had a challenging time tracking her.

Jason whistled low. “Who is this chick? I’m impressed. She has serious skill.”

Finally, she ducked into a showroom and didn’t come out. Tim couldn’t find a camera giving them an unobstructed view, but it didn't matter. They had a destination.

“This was ten minutes ago, they could already be long gone,” said Dick.

“Or they could still be hiding there,” countered Jason.

“We’ll find out when we get there.” They walked out of the cafeteria and past the closed aisles. The forklift that had been buried under the collapsed shelving unit was being unearthed by a flock of bewildered employees.

“Ten bucks says she has magic,” said Jason.

“Yeah, no.” Tim was good at math and the odds of everything happening just as she left was too big to be a coincidence. “I’m not stupid enough to take that bet.”

“Come on you guys, let’s focus here,” chided Dick.

Walking back through the showrooms Tim kept an eye out for any sign of his brother or his accomplice, but it was as if they had disappeared into thin air. Arriving at the last location they had spotted the girl, they waited for a touring couple to leave before descending on the tiny, boxed room like the detectives they were trained to be.

It didn’t take long to discover the lasered off vent.

“Shit,” groaned Jason. “They could be anywhere by now.”

“Tim can you-”

Tim had his phone in hand, “I’m already on it. I’ll have the vent layout in a minute.” He felt insulted they even needed to ask.

Jason peered into the vent, “Damn, I think we’re too big to follow.”

Dick sighed. “I miss my vent crawling days; they just don’t make them as big as they used to.”

“That’s what she said,” snickered Jason.

“Focus you two,” Tim snapped. “I’ve pulled up the air duct plans.” He flashed the screen to his two brothers who settled down. “This particular vent runs a couple of places. We have one entrance at the back of the store in the storeroom. Then another veering off near the daycare center, and the last which comes out near the unloading dock.”

“I’ll take the one next to the daycare center,” said Dick. “I’m the only one who isn't demented,” pointing to Jason, “or sleep-deprived,” pointing to Tim.

“Hey!” exclaimed Jason.

Tim sneered, repressing a Damian-like growl, “I wouldn’t be so sleep deprived if you hadn’t dragged us out of the house at eight in the morning. I arrived in from patrol at three.” He hadn’t had coffee in hours, and the weight of his body pressed on him like a panini maker.

Dick ignored them. “Jason can take the one at the loading docks, and Tim you’ll be able to bypass security and get into the back the easiest.”

“Sounds good to me,” grunted Jason.

“Alright,” agreed Tim. “The second any of us spots them, text the group chat, will box them in from there.”

They nodded and headed off their separate ways. Despite the tiredness in Tim's bones, there was a heady rush of the hunt thrumming in his veins. Damian, and whoever he had decided to pair up with, were going down.

Tag List: (Closed, sorry!! I’m so glad you all like it though.)

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 3 years

Text

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 18:

“That’s pretty much all I got from him,” You sighed, picking at your fingernails. “That he doesn’t want me to know because other people talk bad about him.”

“That’s...” Selene trailed off, seemingly just as lost for words as you were.

Your best friend was making tea for the both of you, bustling around her kitchen as you spoke. Truthfully, you were thankful she invited you over. You didn’t think you could process this information by yourself.

You’d been going back and forth over it all day, trying to decide whether or not it was your place to share what you knew with Selene. You wanted to keep sacred the trust Bakugou had in you, but on the other hand, the longer you thought about his words the more worried you became. Deliberating on it further wouldn’t help you, but maybe talking about it would?

Either way, you just decided to cut your losses. Maybe a stronger woman could’ve kept this too herself and been fine, but you simply weren’t her.

“Yeah. I know.” You responded, falling back against her couch, and slumping into the armrest. “I have no idea what to do with that. I mean, I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I can’t come up with any scenario that’s good.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” She nods, bringing your mug over to you.

“It’s just- I can only think of two reasons why that’d upset him so much, right?” You sip your tea. “One- he’s just being overly dramatic about it, but honestly, considering Bakugou’s reactions, that doesn’t seem to be the case. And two...”

You wrung your hands nervously. Selene only sat down next to you, a hand on your shoulder urging you to continue.

“Or h-he’s a bad guy. A really bad guy.” You spoke, suddenly sick to your stomach. “Like, a criminal or something. I mean, that’s the only way right? He said people talked about him, a lot, using his name, and then said I could look him up and find bad things, so that has to mean he’s like comitting crimes right? That he’s probably not good, and he’s got a record, because why else would anyone talk that badly about him, so much to the point where it’s synonymous with his name, if he didn’t do something horrific?”

You pulled your knees up to your chest, curling your arms protectively around them. Saying all of this out loud made you feel sick, but you truly couldn’t think of another explanation.

“Maybe...” Selene tried, but she seemed to be coming to your same conclusions as well. “Yeah. That’s- I can’t think of another reason either.”

“Yep.” You admitted defeatedly.

Silence fell over the room as you sipped from your mug. You tea was piping hot, nearly boiling, but it didn’t make you feel any warmer. You were cold, and you couldn’t stop your fingers from trembling.

You wanted to believe he was good, and you still sort of did from your personal interactions with Bakugou- But if looking up his name would show you a record of all his past actions, and if he was ashamed of them? Then how good could your soulmate really be?

It made you sick to think about. You’d wanted to save people and help them and do good your entire life- you didn’t think you’d be able to handle learning that your soulmate didn’t feel the same. That he hurt people instead.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Selene slug an arm around you, pulling you into her side. “Maybe- maybe it’s a misunderstanding, you know? Have you tried talking to him again about it?”

“No. Can’t.” You pull your phone from your back pocket, opening your messages to him. “Look what he sent me this morning.”

“He sent that at 5? In the morning?” Selene asks. “That’s.....”

“Suspicious.” You huffed, grabbing your phone from her and turning it off. “You don’t have to tell me. I know.”

“Y/n,” Selene lays her head on yours, squeezing you close to her. “I’m sorry. I-I know you were excited about him.”

“Yep. I was.” You wrap your arms tighter around yourself. “You know what’s even worse though?”

“What?”

“I-I think I meant it when I told him I’d like him anyway.” You confessed quietly. “Even if I did find out he was bad, I-I’m not sure I’d stop talking to him.”

Selene didn’t say anything, only pulling you even closer as you sniffled.

If thinking about Bakugou’s words made you feel sick, your own feelings made you downright nauseous. You truly didn’t think you’d be able to stop talking to him- you were already far too attached.

You couldn’t explain it either: why you already felt so, so, tied to him.

All you knew was you’d been waiting your entire life to be as happy as Bakugou made you. All you knew was that the sound of his voice made your heart jump and settle at the same time. All you knew is that your soul was finally being completed- and, selfishly, so, so, selfishly you weren’t sure you could ever give that up.

Selene leaned forward, grabbing her TV remote off the coffee table in front of you.

“Don’t. Please.” You sighed. “I love you, but I really don’t want to watch your trashy reality shows right now.”

“I’m not, I’m not, don’t worry,” She knocks her shoulders lightly into yours. “Just local news for background noise.”

You groaned.

“What?” She asked, looking at you a little strangely. “Did Bakugou give you a problem with the news now, too?”

“No, this- it’s not about him.” You rubbed at your eyes tiredly. “I still have that project remember? I usually watch the news for inspiration, so it just reminded me of it ‘sall.”

“Oh, okay. You want me to turn it off?”

“No, it’s fine- it’s already on.” You curled into yourself just a bit more, voice tired and depressed as you felt. “Might as well just watch the hero stuff just incase I suddenly, like, get divine inspiration or something.”

“Oh my- you make it sound like you’re doomed!” She nudged you playfully. “C’mon, Y/n we can watch it together. You never know, maybe both of our single brain cells can think of something.”

You just huffed a laugh, taking another sip of your tea and focusing on the TV.

On screen was another disaster scene, except this time in Jaku City. The city was decimated- buildings were turned sideways, smoke and fire were billowing, and loud explosions could be heard. There was another tar monster, but this time it was a lot larger than the one in Hosu. It was a black, twitching, fluid mass of poison that sucked up everything in it’s path, and seemed to be resistant to almost all attacks.

There were multiple heroes on the scene, but it was all the same top pros you’d been seeing for what felt like years now. You recognized Deku, Shoto, and Uravity all working together, attacking and regrouping in the fray. It didn’t seem like they were making any progress, though.

“Top pros have been working to stop the threat for hours now, but almost no progress has been made,” A reporter suddenly stepped into the frame, face visibly anxious. “They’ve been at it since early in the morning, but there has been virtually no change since they first infiltrated the hideout....”

You zoned out. You didn’t know who you were kidding, you couldn’t get anything done. Your brain just couldn’t seem to focus on anything but your soulmate.

—/—

Bakugou still hadn’t texted you, and it’d been three days. You’d check your phone almost constantly, hoping and praying for even a single buzz, but it never made a difference.

On the fourth day, you texted him.

You don’t know what made you send the last two texts. You couldn’t explain it, even to yourself- but something just felt wrong.

Bakugou hadn’t missed a single text from you since the very first day you contacted him. He might’ve been angry, and harsh, and volatile, but he was consistent. Even if he’d complain the entire time, he’d answer you, he always did. And if you didn’t contact him first, then he reached out to you. Either way, he was always around for you.

But not this time.

Days went by and your texts stayed unread. There was a pit in your stomach, one that was steadily growing by the hour, and by the end of that week you felt like you were gonna cry. Every second was spent worrying, you couldn’t focus, and your school work was suffering. Nothing seemed to make you feel better. You weren’t sure when you let him burrow so far into your heart, but he was there now, and there was no use denying it.

Your earlier questions about who he was, and whether or not he was good, seemed to fade entirely. You just wanted to hear his voice again. You just missed him. The ache you carried with you became a solid thing- sitting cold and heavy on top of a heart that had just learned how to be warm and weightless. You hurt, everywhere, and all you wanted was for him to be okay.

Your phone was never far away, in your hands or pocket every second of the day- even when you fell asleep. But it didn’t matter. You phone never rang no matter how much you willed it to.

-/---

lmao this is kinda short,, but the original draft was wAY too long so i had to split it ahaha

#mha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou soulmate au #bakugou soulmate textfic #bnha fic #mha fic

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blu-archer · 3 years

Text

Sharing is Caring?

Just some more AU sickness because why not?

snz based

Sickie: Tae - mild Jimin

Caretaker: Jimin [kind of?]

m/m [squinting at Yoonmin] and mentions of what I’m poorly portraying as ace. I’ve never tried to write about it before so forgive any misrepresentation please..

anyway...

Apart of this little universe; Flower shop and Bakery au

This piece mostly felt like me rambling, but it was kind of fun so I’m posting it.. sorry for any errors

Taehyung sniffled as discretely as possible as he wondered through the isles of the large supermarket, doing his best to avoid people even though he had made sure to grab a face mask before leaving the apartment to avoid spreading his germs. Technically they could be considered Jimin’s germs… but he wasn’t one to blame his platonic soulmate.

After all, they lived together. This outcome was inevitable.

So he hovered awkwardly through the store trying to move as quickly as possible by grabbing immediate necessities rather than the usual browsing of the shelves. And after the desperate sneezes that had surprised him by the canned foods and had kicked his headache into 5th gear, he wanted nothing more than to already be at home and back in bed.

The photographer paused a bit away from the freezer holding the ready-made meals – something that had become a must-have for the pair if they wanted to survive living together – waiting for the few people there to finish before he made his own snatch. He blinked lazily at the rows of boxes that he could just barely make out. He would have to grab a few, they hadn’t done ‘grocery’ shopping for the month and it had come back to bite them. The few supplies he’d gotten days before had dwindled to nothing in a blink of an eye. He’d woken up that morning looking for food so he could take his next dose of medication and had been met with a small portion of days old take out from the noodle place down the street and what was left of the soup Jimin’s boss had dropped off for him after he’d called in sick.

And Tae was getting really tired of soup, despite only being on his second day of feeling like warm death.

So he had taken the courageous, probably mildly stupid, step to go shopping. They needed more tissues anyway, and he didn’t really know anyone in the area that well yet despite having moved a few months ago so it’s not like he could make a plea for help.

Jimin had been thoroughly knocked out in his bed with a mound of extra blankets that hadn’t moved from their place since Yoongi had put them there after bringing the smaller man home from work the day before. So Taehyung had just scribbled a brief note and pinned it onto his door so that Jimin would know where he was if the slim chance of the elder waking up did actually happen.

A gap formed as a couple broke away from the freezer and Tae swiftly slipped in front of it, muffling a cough into his arm before he made a move to slide open the glass top. Taehyung was jolted from his actions as something – a body, definitely a small body – crashed into his legs, immediately reaching out with one hand to steady the child that wobbled upon impact even though his own balance wavered drastically. Thank god for fast reflexes, if he hadn’t dropped his basket and rested his hand on the freezer then he probably would’ve fallen straight on his ass. That would have been almost as embarrassing as the canned food isle incident just minutes before. This day just wasn’t getting better.

He had just barely looked down at the small boy who had almost caused his next disaster when his foggy attention was dragged away to the next rapidly approaching figure.

“Sehjoon!” An exasperated voice snapped before the small boy was pulled from Tae’s weak grasp. “I’m so sorry, he’s wild. Did he-“The man’s eye widened a bit and then he smiled, losing some of the tension in his body. “Its Taehyung, right? Jimin’s new roommate?”

Tae blinked, nodding slowly although he couldn’t really be considered ‘new’ since a few months had already passed, and it wasn’t the first time that he’d shared a space with Jimin. The man looked familiar, and he clearly knew who he was, which meant he was probably one of Jimin’s friends from work. Taehyung tried not to feel too bad about not remembering whose name went with which face, he was often busy with his own work when Jimin would tell him about what happened during his working hours, so he couldn’t be expected to remember too many details. It was a similar situation when he tried to explain to Jimin the different editing terms while trying to perfect whatever photos he had done. He couldn’t count the numbers of times he’d just watched his best friends eyes glaze over with some familiar vague nodding.

“I’m Hoseok, we met a while back when you first moved here.”

The man seemed to ooze happiness as he picked the boy up to rest him on his hip. Taehyung shuffled on his feet. He was a little unsure of what to say next. Usually he didn’t struggle with making conversation, but his head felt like it was filled with cotton, he couldn’t be faulted for this flaw of character right now.

“Sorry,” Hoseok chuckled, rubbing at his neck with his free hand. “Jimin speaks about you all the time and even Jungkook and Jin mention you every once it in a while, it kind of feels like I know you.”

“Uh…oh. Yeah. Jimin speaks about you a lot too.” Tae replied, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. His voice coming out deeper and with the beginnings of the congestion he’d hoped wouldn’t come so soon in the day. He cleared his throat in hopes that it would help. “The florist, right? With Yoongi?”

It clearly didn’t help.

Hoseok’s smile faltered, turning more sympathetic. As if he had quickly pieced the obvious together.

“Yeah, that’s me.” He shifted the boy on his hip when small hands grappled to be let down. Hoseok dropped his smile for a moment to give a stern look of disapproval that seemed to work like a spell over the boy as he went silent and placid in the mans hold. “I’m sorry about Sehjoon here. My sister asked me to look after him for the day and I think she both underestimates my babysitting capabilities and overestimates her sons behaviour. I was actually sent out of work for a bit because Yoongi needed a break from this level of chaos… Hey, he didn’t hurt you or anything right?”

“Oh, no. No.” Tae gave a croaky laugh that irritated his throat. It already felt rough from the amount of coughing he’d done during the night and it appeared that he was nowhere close to being done with that. Turning away, he coughed deeply into his arm, twisting away despite wearing a mask, and winced at the spark of pain that had shot into him. God, he was so over this cold. “Sorry. He barrelled into me, but he would probably be at more risk of hurting himself than me. Has a hard head though. Definitely able to knock some people out with that.”

That brought a bubble of sudden laughter from the other man that left Tae slightly bemused and yet, it was an odd feeling watching Hoseok laugh. A warmth of sorts spread over Taehyung when the man tossed his head back and seemed to glow as his shoulders shook. It was more contagious than Jimin’s illness and Taehyung couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the man as he began to tease his nephew shamelessly about being a new weapon of destruction. The boy simply whined and curled his head into Hoseok’s neck, apparently not seeing the same humour as his uncle.

“I should get him a leash to be honest.” Hoseok joked, but Tae had a feeling the glint in the mans eyes meant he was deeply considering it.

Taehyung didn’t really know how to reply so he just nodded slowly and turned his attention back to the freezer, recollecting his basket before just grabbing a few different meals at random and tossing them in with the juice and tissues he’d already gotten. Whatever it was he and Jimin would eat it whether they liked it or not. He had been out longer than he wanted to be by now and he wasn’t wasting more time on things that they probably wouldn’t taste much of anyway considering how this cold was progressing.

“Not much of a cook?”

Tae glanced to Hoseok who seemed to be shifting his weight as he looked towards the meals casually.

Sniffing lightly, Taehyung tried to suppress the desire to rub at his nose through the mask. He shrugged, his hand moving up to brush some hair from his eyes. “Never really learned. Jimin can’t either, but this is better than living off of take out.”

“I can see Jin rolling in his figurative grave.” Hoseok chuckled. “If you want I can mention to Jungkook how I ran into you, despite you clearly not feeling well. I can guarantee that you and Jimin will get visited by Yoongi and Jin with at least a months-worth of premade meals to be frozen because they heard from Jungkook that you were both malnourished and possibly dying.”

He blushed at the call out on being sick, but to be fair, he hadn’t thought he’d run into anyone that would actually talk to him or that this store would be so busy during work hours. He also didn’t doubt Jungkook’s ability to exaggerate, Jimin had told him about some previous examples that had at the time probably caused Jin a lot of stress. It mostly seemed innocent but very few could look into Jungkook’s eyes and not believe everything he tells them. Tae had only just started speaking to him more and he already knew that.

“Please don’t. I can’t even bear to look at soup after these past few days and I have a feeling that would be a strong contender of what one would give a sick person.” Against his original will, he rubbed a finger to his nose as it twitched with an itchy irritation. “I need to get home actually; we had no food left so I should try to get back before Jimin wakes up. And I am about ready to sleep for the next week.”

“Oh wow. So you really are in need of pre-made meals filled with some love and care.” Hoseok’s voice dipped into one similar to how he had teased his nephew. “Well, I won’t keep you then. You should get home and rest, but if you want to take me up on sending the s.o.s. message for food delivery, Jimin has my number.”

Taehyung thanked the elder man shakily, and even managed to get a small wave bye from the boy, barely having time to hear the small apology for bumping into him before he abruptly turned away and buried his face into his elbow.

H’EESH..hH’HEGXSHhh..

There was a startled ‘oh’ and then deep chuckles. Taehyung winced as he gave a liquid sniff with a low groan, feeling even more congested than before.

“ ‘cuse ‘be.”

“Bless you,” Hoseok laughed with a hand instinctively holding his nephew closer. He dipped his head in a small bow. “Sorry, it’s not funny. That sounded awful, but I got a fright and now I feel dumb for jumping.”

If he had blushed before, then this was him setting himself alight. That had never happened before, he’d never scared someone with his sneeze. Jimin was never going to let him live that down.

“I’ll leave you be now,” the man grinned. “Go home and get some rest. But when you feel better we should hang out some time. Jimin speaks about you all the time and I just think it would be great to see more of you… like with everyone. Welcome you to the city properly.”

“I…yeah. Okay.” Taehyung brushed his hands through his hair and took a starting step back, trying to hold back any more sniffling. “I’ll see you around then.”

“Feel better soon, Taehyung, and get home safely.”

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

HEESHHU..H’HIESHH…snfff.. … Heh..h..hhh..HHeGXTCHh…hnnxgGTSCHew!... nghHEHHSHH!!!

Taehyung panted out hot hitchy breaths as the tissue box was set in front of him as an offering. He laid a hand on the box to take it, his other hand hovered desperately over his face as he geared up for the next sneeze. His teary eyes had barely blinked open before they were forced shut once more, his throat and head pulsed with each sneeze that ripped out of him.

“Ble-e’hh-hh-ss yo-uishhhiew.. H’ingxtshh… hih’itishhew!”

Taehyung grabbed a few tissues and let Jimin keep the box as the elder coughed and crumpled into the seat beside him, before following Tae’s example of blowing his nose tiredly.

After shopping, Taehyung had managed a slow drive back to the apartment with multiple stops to tear open one of the tissue boxes he’d bought. It hadn’t helped much, and he had felt progressively worse as the minutes ticked by until he’d made it into the house, where he had promptly collapsed onto the couch with his tissues – only having to get up again to dump the food he’d bought in the fridge and freezer before sluggishly dragging himself to the couch once more..

When he’d been coaxed awake by Jimin gently shaking his shoulder, he had been met with a dim early afternoon sun and a plate a steamy food that had definitely been nuked in the microwave for longer than necessary. And from there they hadn’t really moved much, other than Jimin having forced some medicine into them and making tea before joining Tae on the couch.

There was some drama playing softly on their tv, but neither of them really had the energy to focus on it properly and Tae could barely hear the dialogue anyway once the congestion in his sinuses began to interfere with his ears. Jimin had dragged in a blanket from his room and draped it over both of them as Tae added to the pile of used tissues that had begun to form on the floor in front of them. Nothing seemed to stop the constant tickle that plagued him, nor his noses inability to do what he wanted. Tae was considering just stuffing his nose with tissues at this point. Since the trip to the supermarket his nose had turned into a mess that was seemingly draining the life out of him. Jimin had assured him that despite what he thought, it would get better, but he was sure that his friend was just trying to be his usual hopeful self. Always ready to reassure and look out for him.

At least they were suffering together. That was an upside. Jimin claimed to be feeling a lot better than the day before and it seemed to be mostly true, he was definitely being more active than Tae wanted to be. Although that could also have just a factor of the smaller man sleeping like the dead for almost 20 hours and Taehyung thinking it was wise to leave the apartment earlier. He was just deeply glad that he wasn’t alone again.

Tae hated being alone. Even when he was well, he’d tried living by himself before and it had eaten at him mentally. It’s a big reason why he had convinced Jimin to find a new apartment that they could share when he switched towns, instead of just finding a cheap single flat somewhere. Thankfully his Soulmate had been searching for something already, so he didn’t feel like too much of an inconvenience. Jimin had always teased him relentlessly for needing people but never wanting relationships, always just content with a friend to cuddle up to or hang out with. Yet watching Jimin and others grow into bonds and commitments always made him doubt. Jimin meant well with his chirps and edgy teasing, but it always made Taehyung worry about his future.

What would he do when Jimin finally moved on in life? It’s not like anyone would want to invest in a person that would never give themselves entirely to a partner... He would never fall into the trap of letting someone take what he didn’t want to give again, yet that was all everyone seemed to want from him. … Maybe he’d start up a cuddle site, or a hug program, he’ll think of a way to get the skin ship he needed without being a bother or a hazard to himself.

“You’re thinking too loud again…” Jimin whined hoarsely and sunk into Tae’s side, rubbing his cheek into the other shoulder as he curled into him. “Your brainwaves are hurting mine.”

“You’d need a brain to have brainwaves, you’ll be fine.” Tae mumbled as he ran a tissue under his nose with a sniff and yelped out a weary laugh when Jimin pinched at his ribs.

“Asshole.” The elder snipped, but the smile in his voice was evident.

It took no prompt for Jimin to snuggle even deeper into Taehyung’s embrace, relishing in the warmth despite the dampness that had begun to seep through Tae’s shirt. It would probably be wise for them both to get in the shower – at the very least to rinse off their sweat and germs – but they were far too comfortable to move. Tae felt as if his body had become moulded into the seat and the heat that was created between himself, Jimin and their blanket; paired with the medication he’d taken, only made him dozier. Even as his mind raced through various what-ifs of the future, his eyes gradually drifted shut up before jerking open with any sound or movement. Soft hands brushed soothingly up his side, edging him closer to sleep with low humming, and just as his eyes closed again there was a sharp knock at the door that caused both of them to groan.

“If we ignore it, they might think we’re not here.” Jimin whispered.

Ah…H’ERSHH! ..

“Never-“

HE’ETCHSHH!!

“… Never mind. Thank you Taetae.”

“Sorry..”

Another softer, more hesitant knock sounded through the apartment as Jimin pushed himself to his feet and handed control of the tissue box to Tae solemnly. He accepted it more desperately than he would have liked, but Jimin wasn’t going to judge him considering he’d been in the same situation just the day before.

With a reluctant sigh, Jimin tried not to shiver against the loss of heat. “I’ll go see who it is then.”

The photographer pushed himself up to sit cross legged instead off slouched down in the seat while Jimin left the room, so he could blow his nose as productively as he possible. Although his nose ached after so much blowing and he had immediately tumbled into a bout of coughing that had left him gasping and spitting into a tissue with a grimace, so he couldn’t really call it all that productive when it ultimately made him feel worse. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a yawn before considering just going to sleep anyway. From the front door he could vaguely make out Jimin’s voice – deeper and scratchier than usual – as he spoke with familiarity.

Hopefully it wasn’t their neighbour. She had been hounding them about tidying up their balcony that, quite frankly, wasn’t that bad. Sure, it had way too many dead and dying plants and the chair out there had definitely seen better days, but if she didn’t like seeing it, she didn’t have to go out of her way to look. It wasn’t like they shared it.

He leaned his head back to rest on the back of the couch and shut his eyes once more, trying to force himself to sink into sleep, yet it was now low grumbling and airy giggles kept him from rest. Irritated, he shifted so that he lay curled up on his side, tossing his heavy limbs around until he’d managed to get the soft, fluffy blanket over his body completely and tucked under his chin. Now if Jimin could get back so that he could at least have someone to cling onto, then he’d be ecstatic.

Muffled coughing grew closer until Taehyung heard Jimin call out to him just loud enough to not disturb his penetrating, consistent headache.

“Look,” Jimin practically collapsed on top of the photographer holding a small bouquet. He slid off quickly when the force of the landing set off Taehyung’s own thicker and hoarser coughs. “Sorry but look what Yoongi brought.”

Ah… so there was a definite hold on the ‘cuddle’ part planned in their day. Once he didn’t think his throat was going to rip to pieces, Taehyung blinked heavily at the various bright flowers that had probably been put together with more thought and precision than he could possibly imagine in that moment. Clearly Yoongi had decided to call in a delivery, he wasn’t really surprised. Jimin’s eyes shone as if he truly hadn’t expected the florist to stop by, and Taehyung didn’t think the elder really cared what he thought about it, he had merely fallen into an instinctive habit. Although, Tae would have preferred not to be assaulted with things that would possibly trigger his sinuses.

He scrunched his nose and pushed away the hand that held the glorified weapons. There were quiet steps and a gentle murmur from behind them that he would have brushed off as him hearing things, if only Jimin didn’t glance up with such a warm, wide smile.

“Beau’iful Chim.” Tae sniffed and rolled so that the blankets rolled higher to hide his face.

His cheeks were heated and Jimin turned his smile to him knowingly – albeit apologetic for letting Yoongi inside when Tae clearly just wanted Soulmate time. Jimin pressed a quick kiss to the small visible section of Tae’s damp forehead before getting to his feet with a stifled cough.

“I’ll put these in water... You really didn’t have to come and check on me, you know.” Jimin said softly as he walked towards their kitchen. “Probably safer to just call.”

“I’m not scared of getting sick, Jimin.” A low voice that could only be Yoongi, reassured as he followed the other. – So more than a delivery then.- “I just wanted to make sure you were okay after yesterday. Hobi said he ran into Taehyung earlier… Although from the looks of things he should have probably stayed home, poor guy sounds worse than you did – than you do.”

Jimin hummed, and Taehyung shifted to cover his head entirely beneath the blanket, trying not to listen to the couples conversation. Maybe he should just move somewhere else and let them have some space without having to hide in the kitchen. Of course Yoongi would have to accept the fact that he was entering an area of disease, but he seemed more than willing considering he was already in their home.

Tae gave a sigh and then a deep sniffle. He plucked a fresh tissue to wipe at the tender skin under his nose. It took a moment to work up the energy but eventually he was able to twist so that he practically rolled off of the couch. His knees and hand connecting a lot harder than he’d predicted to the floor, while trying to keep the blanket as steady as possible on his hunched frame. With sluggish motions, he tried to sweep most of the used tissues up with his hands and dumped them into the wastepaper bin kicked under the table, then after achingly persistent hitch started up that had left him feeling frustrated at the lack of relief – he considered the area clean enough before standing unsteadily. Making sure the blanket was wrapped tightly over his shoulders, he grabbed the tissue box to take with him – Jimin could find something else, he felt he needed them more. Then he had almost tripped on the way to his room and had muttered half-hearted curses at the blanket for betraying him and getting caught up in his steps, until finally he was able to collapse onto his bed.

Sure it was cold and probably smelt of sweat but it was at least more comfortable than where he had been lying and it had pillows that he could hug in replacement of Jimin. He buried his face into his arm almost immediately, sneezing harshly twice before he was able to bring a tissue to his nose and smother three more, breaking off into an exhausted, thick cough that left him feeling miserable and wanting nothing more to recollect the bottle of medicine he’d taken earlier and take the rest of it.

God, he really was so over this stupid cold.

#bts sickfic #snzfic #platonic soulmates #established yoonmin #jhope appeared #Tae suffers #im sorry #only a bit tho #alternate universe #photographer taehyung #florist yoongi #florist jhope #friendship?

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carnationcreation · 4 years

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Hi! Can I please get an imagine where the reader is Bombay’s daughter and he’s never been around because of his job and that he left the readers mum years ago. But he comes back to coach her team, not knowing she plays and they argue, he pleads to get to know her etc.☺️😄basically the absentee!father x reader who wishes for a father but doesn’t know how to forgive him

TITLE: Forgiveness [Can you imagine?] (Bombay x daughter!reader)

✌🏻Masterlist Taglist, Requests, and Works in progress!

Prompt/summary: Bombay tries to reconnect with the daughter he walked out on 8 years ago.

Word Count: 2,519

Authors note: You said argue? Alright here’s some angst. It feels so good to be writing for The Mighty Ducks again, this is one of my favorite movies so I’m so happy I got a request for it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Every summer I used to get the same letter from my dad. It actually wasn’t even a letter. It was child support.

Every fall we used to stop by the diner in town to get milkshakes to celebrate the anniversary of him leaving us. It wasn’t that he was a terrible dad, she just knew she could do better for the both of us if he wasn’t around. After 8 years she still got the same order every time we went to the diner, and every year Mrs. Conway was still there taking our order.

Her son Charlie was always there too. Both of us played on the same hockey team and every winter we would drag our gear down to the pond to practice with our team.

That entire routine changed after one day.

“Goldburg you’re the goalie, the puck is supposed to hit you,” Charlie sighed as he skated towards us.

“Does that sound stupid to anyone else?” the goalie groaned.

I rolled my eyes at him before lining up another shot.

After a few more shots Charlie tapped my shoulder, he looked in wonder as a car drove out onto the ice. We all wandered over and a man in a finely pressed suit stepped out.

“Wait, that can’t be him-” I mumbled.

“We ain’t buying nothing man, I’m feeling generous today so I’ll let your sorry vanilla bootie outta here before we use your eyeballs as hockey pucks!” Jesse said.

“Thanks bro,” the man rolled his eyes before going to reach in to his jacket, “but I’m not going home ‘til I take care of business.”

The group slowly backed up. When the man pulled out a piece of paper and not a gun we all sighed in relief.

“District five pee-wee hockey team, I’m Gordon Bombay. Your new coach.”

The team laughed as I locked eyes with Charlie. He saw the absolute panic in my eyes.

“Got the roster right here. Averman, Dave. Bombay, (Y/n). Conway, Charlie. ”

His face scrunched up as he got to mine. Confusion or being uncomfortable. Either way I couldn’t tell. Luckily no one seemed to notice the fact that I had the same last name as the coach.

“Here’s the long and the short of it. I hate hockey and I don’t like kids. I’m sure this will be a real bonding experience. Maybe one day, one of you will even write a book about it in jail.”

Charlie nudged my shoulder, looking at me with a questioning look. I sighed, “He used to love hockey, but he really seems to hate kids. My mom said she heard that he got a DWI last week.”

Bombay ordered us to scrimmage. We all dove for the puck. Players tripped and fell over each other as we desperately tried to play. I finally got the puck and started to make a move towards the goal when Jesse (accidentally or not) hooked my ankle with his stick as he fell. Connie skated over quickly to help me up before taking off over to Bombay.

I rubbed my sore elbows as Charlie and I skated back over to the car that was still parked on the ice. Bombay brushed the team off by saying we need to scrimmage more and got back into the car.

“What a jerk,” Peter said.

Eventually the team came to the amazing conclusion we should hijack the car. On Peters mark, we all jumped on the car, shook it, and climbed inside.

“We want a ride! We want a ride!” Connie began to chant as we all joined in.

“Take em for a spin, anything!” Bombay said, we all cheered as they started driving.

The fun didn’t last for long. Charlie’s mom soon appeared on the ice and made us all get out.

She furiously shouted, “Are you out of your mind? What were you thinking putting that car on the ice? My son was in that car!”

“Lady lady relax,” Bombay said, “The ice is not gonna crack.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she said. Charlie and I slowly got out of the car and skated to the side to take off our skates.

Bombay sighed, “Gordon Bombay, the new hockey coach.”

Oh lord he was in for it now.

“Oh you’re the dead beat that married (Y/m/n). They send you down here to coach the team and you endanger their lives. You endangered your daughter's life!”

I hid my face with my hand as Bombay looked back at me. Oh god he knows now.

Charlie’s mom eventually pulled us away and drove us home. I knew I’d be hearing about this from my mom later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By order of the state of Minnesota Bombay was at the game the next day. I’d made it my mission to avoid my “dad”. Charlie did a good job of keeping him away, asking him questions or distracting him. I knew I’d have to talk to him eventually but until then I was content with pretending I wasn’t his daughter.

The game was a joke. We didn’t score any goals. Didn’t get a chance to defend ourselves as the Hawks beat us into the ground. 9-0. I left the game with bruises on my face and arms. My helmet was barely covering my face and my hockey pads were my dad’s old ones from the 80’s. One of the few things I stole from his house when we left. Charlie was extremely frustrated at the missed shot he had towards the end of the second period.

As the team sat arguing I was putting my gear up.

“I thought we came here to play hockey. Do you guys think losing is funny?” Bombay yelled.

“It’s not like you coach us or anything. At least we tried,” Jesse said.

Bombay’s face went red with rage, “That was the sloppiest playing I’ve ever seen. Why the hell won’t you just listen to me?!”

I stood up, shouldering my bag, “Why the hell should we?”

The team followed me out of the box.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next game was a disaster. Bombay encouraged us to lie, cheat, and foul our way through the game. Bombay was furious when Charlie wouldn’t do his little act when he was cornered. The bruises on my face still hadn’t healed properly.

The locker room was filled with groans as everyone agreed the game was pathetic.

“Charlie! When I tell you to do something, you do it! Got it?”

“You can’t make me cheat,” Charlie said walking out of the locker room.

Jessie and Terry’s dad stormed into the locker room, “LEt’s go boys. This is what I gave up my overtime pay for? To watch my kids take falls? You’re a pathetic excuse for a coach, and an even more pathetic father if you can let your daughter get beaten up like that.”

The team’s heads turned to me as he pointed in my direction. I let my head fall as I stormed out behind Jessie and Terry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I really thought I could keep avoiding him. I didn’t think he would come and try to find me.

The next day at practice was a shock for everyone. We all got new uniforms, gear, and sticks. Everyone was pumped up during practice and we even got two new players.

“What changed?” I asked Charlie.

He shrugged, “I don’t know. He came and apologized last night.”

My blood boiled. He can apologize to another kid but not his own daughter who he practically abandoned. I warmed up to him as practice went on but in the back of my mind there was still that thought lingering.

“(Y/n), you’re riding home with me,” Bombay told me as I packed up my stuff.

I looked at him confused, “But-”

“Your mom said it was okay.”

I silently followed him out to the car, the driver had rolled up the middle window so we could have some privacy.

“So…” he said, I stayed quiet still looking out the window, “Your mom told me you never quit hockey. Even after I…”

“Left?”

He sighed, “Yeah I guess it was like that wasn’t it?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Look (Y/n), if I had known how much it had affected you I never would’ve stepped out that door. Your mom and I… we just weren’t good together.”

I scoffed, “No, your drinking side just didn’t line up with the fact mom wanted a decent husband.”

He went to speak again but quickly closed his mouth.

“I’ll just imagine me forgiving you. Maybe one day I can actually do it with meaning,” I sighed and went to pick my bag up as the driver pulled up to the curb.

“(Y/n),” he said grabbing my arm, “I already talked to Charlie about this. I’m so sorry for the way I acted. I never should have asked you guys to cheat. And I definitely shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you guys. I’d do anything to try and get you to forgive me.”

“I’m just confused as to why your star player got an apology before your daughter did. I’ve been waiting for that for 8 years. If you truly wanted that from me you should’ve tried a long time ago.”

I slammed the car door as I got out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days I spent at Charlie’s house when my mom wasn’t home, hoping Bombay wouldn’t come track me down again.

“(Y/n)?” Charlie said, “Someone left a package for you.”

I looked up from the comic books that were sprawled across Charlie’s bed in confusion as he sat the brown paper package down. My name was written across it in black sharpie.

Charlie shook his head, “Well, are you gonna open it?”

“I think I already know who it’s from.”

“(Y/n), he really wants to make it up to you. Just open it.”

I sighed and slowly ripped the paper, inside was a jersey. My favorite hockey team’s jersey.

“Woah,” I said.

Charlie scoffed, “Your dad sent you that? How’d he know your favorite team?”

“Cause it’s his favorite too. Charlie this is his vintage jersey.”

“Well,” he said, “Maybe you can start imagining that forgiveness part.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The Ducks? We’re the ducks? What brain dead jerk came up with that name,” Peter scoffed.

“As a matter of fact,” Bombay said pulling a jersey out of the box, “I did. But I didn’t have a choice, we’re being sponsored. You’d rather be district 5? Some stupid number?”

“They don’t even have teeth,” Peter said.

“Neither do hockey players,” he said, we all giggled, “Have you ever seen a flock of ducks flying in perfect formation? It’s beautiful. Pretty awesome how they all stick together. The other animals are afraid, cause they know if they mess with one duck then they’ll get the whole flock.”

Bombay walked around the locker room giving his little speech. He smiled when he got to me, his eyes flicking down to see I was wearing the old jersey he had left for me.

He whipped off his coat to reveal his Ducks jersey underneath as we all laughed, “I’m proud to be a duck, and I’d be proud to fly with any one of you.”

Charlie and I smiled at each other.

“So how about it? Who’s a duck?”

Silence followed as everyone looked around the room to see who would go first.

“I’ll be a duck,” our new player Fulton Reed said.

I smiled and placed my hockey stick on the bench, “I’ll join the flock.”

“Yeah,” Charlie said following suit, “me too.”

Soon enough the whole team joined in. Grabbing jerseys and cheering.

“We are the ducks!” Bombay shouted, “The Mighty Ducks!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few games were amazing. Our winning streak started to pick up and soon enough we were getting ready to face off against Cardinals.

Charlie and I were named the dynamic duo. Our ability to make plays and take shots off of each other improved everyday. But that put a target on our back.

It was the third quarter, we had to make one shot to pull us out of a tie and win. The crowd was going crazy as Charlie and I sped up the ice. Our team following behind us for backup.

It was a stupid idea.

Charlie went to take a shot as I saw a goon defender moving in for the body check. So I threw myself in between Charlie and the goon. My head snapped back against the glass as I heard the buzzer go off signaling a goal.

The team cheered. Charlie frantically raced over to me.

“(Y/n)?”

I could barely hear him, the ringing in my ears was so loud, “Where’s my dad?”

Charlie looked confused before shouting over to Bombay.

“(Y/n)? Can you hear me?” he said.

“Dad?” I started to cry as the pain caught up to me.

“Get her helmet off Charlie,” he said, I felt Charlie gently take it off and the coolness of the ice against the back of my head, “(Y/n) the paramedics are gonna get you off the ice okay?”

I felt myself being picked up off the ice and lifted onto a stretcher, the crowd clapped as I was rolled off the ice.

The ride to the hospital was short, Charlie’s mom called my mom's work to tell her what happened and she rushed over as Casey rode to the hospital with me.

“Where’s my dad?”

“He had to finish up the game, he’s gonna meet us there afterwards.”

Everything happened really fast when we got there, I wasn’t allowed to sleep even though I was super tired.

“Look who’s here” Casey said. I turned to see Bombay and Charlie walking in.

“Woah,” I yelped as Charlie ran over to give me a hug.

“Are you crazy? You won’t be able to play at the next game!”

I laughed, “At least we get a next game. It was worth it.”

He rolled his eyes and ruffled my hair. Bombay sat down in the chair beside the hospital bed. Casey and Charlie walked outside.

“Do you remember what happened after you took that hit?”

I paused trying to think back to earlier, “Um… not really.”

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it in front of the team. You called me dad.”

I turned my head to look down at the sheets, “Oh…”

“I don’t have a problem with it,” he laughed, “But the team is definitely going to have questions for you tomorrow.”

I smiled.

“Alright, grab your stuff. The doctor said you can go, you just can’t practice or play in a game for a week.”

My eyes widened, “A week?!”

“Yes,” he said, “And I better not hear any complaints. I’ll make you run extra. Your moms waiting on us.”

“Where?”

“At the diner, she said something about milkshakes.”

I smiled, “We always get milkshakes after games.”

“Well, it’s on me tonight.”

I jumped up and gave him a hug before running out to grab Charlie. I think I can imagine that forgiveness thing now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @thebookwormlife @talksoprettyjjx @coolreallyfuzzystudentuniverse @igotabadfeelingabouteverything @larrystylinson-sus @lovesanimals @aunicornmademedoit @thexhotmess @ssprayberrythings @registerednursejackie @julieandthephantomsblogduh @fangirling-allday @solophantomsmultis @drxgxnslxyer @schnapp-my-neck

#the mighty ducks #the mighty ducks imagine #gordon bombay #emelio estevez #gordon bombay imagine #gordon bombay x daughter!reader #emelio estevez imagine

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greenhappyseed · 3 years

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We need to talk about All Might.

After Chapter 309, everyone seems to be screaming DEATH FLAG (more than normal), and I wouldn’t ordinarily agree given the fakeouts we’ve seen before. However, AM isn’t given much to do yet (except look cute in his sunnies) and doesn’t seem to be in a good position to grow as a person. It makes me sad bc there is a lot of potential with AM, and it all seems pushed aside in favor of Endeavor’s narrative, which I don’t love. As a ::cough cough:: older BnHA fan in a workaholic profession, I want to see the larger hero society narrative use AM to ask if you can be a hero (and therefore of any value to society) when you’re old and/or have less strength/power/endurance than you used to have. What happens when you WERE an equal, and then you lose a step along the way (note there may be a parallel to Bakugo’s/Aizawa’s post-war condition on this theme)? Or, given the focus on teenagers and the role of the “new generation” in rebuilding society, let’s ask whether AM made the right choice in sticking with his teenage ideals through adulthood. Was he right to give up EVERYTHING for his dream, only to crash land into a nightmare? I mean, the dude destroyed himself for years and then watched his life’s work crumble in a matter of weeks. Can he pick himself up, powerless, and still find a new way to help? In BHNA, all of the top heroes have major flaws (a meta for another time!) and a chance at redemption, so I really want to see AM do the same thing.

AM starts the story as the singular, self-proclaimed Symbol of Peace, which was a mission he gave himself as a naive, idealistic middle school student(!!!) Through Nana Shimura, AM received the power to make his teenage ambition a reality and then ... kept at it for 40 years. Alone. Without critical reflection. In Vigilantes, we learn the cost of this relentless pursuit is that AM has no real friends and no social life. Even among other top heroes, he’s not an approachable peer, but the hired gun brought in to clean up the biggest, baddest disasters before he’s immediately called out to the next one. To the extent he socializes after a big win, it’s to talk to the media and sign autographs, not debrief or bond with fellow heroes. The guy has charisma and can do stage banter all day, but he has no idea how to have an actual functioning relationship with colleagues. At the beginning of BNHA, it’s been 20ish years since AM spoke to Torino, 10 years since he spoke to Endeavor, and 5 years since Nighteye. He does keep in touch with Tsukauchi, but he’s more like a “work husband” than a best friend.

When Deku meets him, AM is holding it together on the surface, but is really in mental distress. AM is the first hero in the story whose facade is ripped away (initially to us readers, then eventually to everyone in universe). Unable to do the hero work that defines him for more than 3 hours a day, he seems to spend the rest of his pre-UA time wandering around aimlessly. He’s lost his sense of purpose, has nobody to confide in (he may not “lie” but he definitely doesn’t tell anyone complete truths), and he is indifferent to his own survival. He is certain Nighteye’s prediction is coming true, and he’s looking for a successor because he HAS to before time runs out, not because he wants to. If he can pass on OFA then he can die, ideally in a blaze of glory. And, if not for Deku, he would have let the slime villain kill Bakugo and told himself he can’t save everyone. In Deku he sees his younger self’s ideals and decided his new purpose is to build the next Symbol of Peace, not just do a handoff. With a true successor secured, he can really go for one last big heroic act.

Except it doesn’t work out as planned. Deku — lonely and idealistic himself — desperately needs AM around for approval. And AM, with extra time on his hands, seems to enjoy being needed by his boy, like a parent with a toddler. As hard as they both aim to create the next AM, Deku is his own person (as all children are), which makes the process trickier than either one anticipated. At first AM tries imitating Torino and trains Deku through physical activity and battle, the same way Torino punched a grieving, teenage AM around. AM encourages Deku to sacrifice himself, just because AM also did it for 40 years. But these tactics just don’t work for Deku. AM gets (rightly) scolded by Recovery Girl. Then AM sends Deku to Torino, who teaches Deku Full Cowling and scolds AM for not telling Deku the truth about AFO — and for this one time, Torino is right. Slowly, fuller truths start coming out from AM, and in return Deku learns to protect himself and ask his mentor questions rather than merely imitate. Both begin to grow and change for the better.

After Kamino, Inko uses her leverage to convince AM to stop the blaze of glory nonsense. He wants to be her successor as parent to Deku, and she’s not going to allow it if AM is going to drive her son towards needless self-sacrifice. This seems to take root, and we later see AM openly defy Nighteye’s prediction because he wants to be with Deku. He starts jogging! We even see him confide in Aizawa he has decided to live. Even if he’s not always sure how to give his new life purpose, and he bristles at needing to be protected, he’s accepting his post-pro existence. Progress!

Finally, AM comes into his own as a teacher and member of the old guard with experience to share. He may be using “Teaching for Dummies” as a shortcut, but he’s recognizing his own failings and trying to improve. He tells Deku to quit imitating him, full stop, finally giving Deku permission to become his own hero with his own style. AM takes initiative to teach Deku Air Force, and really guides Deku through the use of the power until Deku becomes proficient. AM also gets actively involved in coaching other students (not as much as he should, but it’s something). AM will similarly counsel Endeavor later, saying Endeavor has to walk his own path and answer for himself why he has his power. AM is building new relationships, new skills, and forming an identity outside of punching things!

Of course, we still see signs AM is a work in progress. Staying up too late at night to do research on prior OFA users for Deku. Diving to protect a woman from a falling streetlight (saved only by a fast-acting Bakugo). At the same time, we see that Deku is coming into his own with his 1A friends. And Deku is no longer looking back to AM for approval (both literally when jumping away and figuratively as part of Deku’s decision-making processes). AM seems both proud and sad, as is natural when a parental figure watches their child become independent.

Fast forward to 309, and a powerless AM leaves all the growth behind to help Deku, Endeavor, Jeanist, and Hawks find the LOV. On the good side, AM isn’t keeping secrets anymore (arguably, telling Jeanist and Hawks about OFA should have involved a consultation with Deku, but okay). Moreover, AM isn’t useless in this fight; he can provide financing, emotional support, police connections, UA connections, and Oracle/guy-in-a-chair backup to the active heroes. But what will this change tell us about AM? Can he ever really get comfortable with this role or is he there just out of duty? Can he actually deliver some hard truths to Deku about AM’s own experience if/when Deku stretches himself too thin? Is this new role respected by the other heroes? If not, will he be tempted to return to battle to be “valuable”? To give his life for Deku so he can claim one last “win” by saving? Or give his life for Deku because he actually loves him and has something personal to fight for? All of these questions bear on where an older, powerless person — that is, an outcast — fits into society and how a lifelong loner can find their role within a group. (Boy, this sounds like a familiar BnHA theme!)

I feel like, if AM dies just to become a vestige, all of these deeper questions are unexplored and we’re just copying Star Wars plot points without any added meaning. I’m not satisfied AT ALL with AM living rent free in Deku’s head and robbing others of his wisdom/experience (which he was just starting to share!!!). Likewise, if AM dies as a plot device so Deku can stand as a hero on his own, or tap into his inner rage or whatever, well, that’s also copied from Star Wars — and it seems to counter what we’re starting to see with Deku calling his own shots and AM supporting. Unlike Torino and AM, who don’t talk for years, I want to see Deku be his own hero AND have his mentor in his life. I want BnHA to keep resisting the absent adult trope, because it’s entirely possible (and realistic!) for grownups to be their own people while having mentors and parental figures in their life. It’s an adjustment for a parental figure to watch their teen become an adult, but it doesn’t mean the parental figure just ghosts and ceases to matter as an influence.

Similarly, if AM turns to sacrifice, it will turn AM’s life story into a cautionary tale with no growth. How can a story about saving people who have done bad things have a good guy succumb to his worst instinct, with nobody to save him? How can AM’s life lesson be “make friends now and learn to give and take in a relationship, otherwise you’ll get too old and it’ll be too late and when you aren’t powerful you’ll have to take a hit to have value”? Even if his sacrifice ultimately allows Deku to win against AFO it feels hollow against the larger narrative. Unlike pre-war Bakugo, we already know AM will self-destruct for others. AM wanting to take on the world alone and die “heroically” is the PROBLEM that drives his pre-Kamino failures, not the solution. And if AM can’t escape this and become comfortable in society post-retirement, who can???

I’m worried we are going to see AM’s growth cut short while Endeavor, Hawks, and the LOV get a shot at redemption, which feels problematic. Of course life isn’t fair, and not everyone gets to have a second act, but it feels wrong for the BNHA narrative to punish someone who is trying (and who wants to help Deku save the villains). Maybe you can argue it’s AM’s fault that the hero society became corrupt, so it’s a cosmic balance for him to die watching it fall. Or maybe the other heroes will realize AM needs their help too (not just Deku) and keep him safe. (Maybe Endeavor will save him in a parallel to Bakugo and Deku.) Much is TBD, but chapters 306-309 make me worry.

#all might #yagi toshinori #mha 309 #mha spoilers #mha #my hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha all might #toshinori yagi #bnha meta #bnha all might

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travel-hopefully · 3 years

Text

A collective post of everything I watched on Netflix in 2020

I finally found the watch history function on Netflix which I wanted in order to reminisce over the TV/film I watched over the last year, including the good and the bad. I’ve included a little round-up of my thoughts for each, as lockdown has got me with plenty of time on my hands. If anyone has watched any of the below feel free to give me a message- happy to discuss anything!

Travelers (season 3) - this was an unforgettable show with some great characters and definitely put me through hell (in a good way), I am a David x Marcy shipper for sure!

IT Crowd (season 4 & 5) - my favourite comedy show ever, and I mean the UK version

Explained (random episodes) - interesting bite-sized episodes on a variety of topics

Sherlock (season 3 & 4) - it kinda went downhill from season 4...and doesn’t help that there is no season 5 in sight

Unforgettable - must be pretty forgettable cause I couldn’t remember watching, a typical revenge plot romp I think

The Mind, Explained - same as for Explained above, except more pyshcological

You (season 2) - binge-worthy! I love to hate Joe Goldberg.

Don’t F**k with Cats - wow, this was disturbing but so gripping.

Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle - geniunely a good remake and rather amusing

Sex, Explained - as for Explained but a little more intriguing ;)

The Stranger (season 1) - full of suspense and a good binge watch but ultimately full of plot holes with an unsatisfying conclusion

Gavin & Stacey (season 3) - a classic which I only started watching in 2019

Sex Education (all of it) - comedy gold!

Unbelievable (limited series) - very harrowing, an emotional rollercoaster based on a real-life rape case

Atypical (all of it) - light-hearted and fun to binge

The Sinner (season 1) - it was okay... wasn’t spectacular compared to other similar dramas I’ve seen

Love Is Blind (season 1) - cringey but satisfying

In the Shadow of the Moon - I hardly remember this one :)

Dunkirk - a stand-out historical movie

The Stepfather - typical killer stepfather plot but rather enjoyable

The Super - an interesting premise, but not that super

Saw VI - all gore not much plot

Doctor Who (random episodes) - no words needed :D

Louis Theroux and Louis Theroux’s Weird Weekends (random episodes) - I love his style of interviewing - what a man!

The Revenant - a lot of... well, not much

Nightcrawler - it was decent, but something was missing which I couldn’t put my finger on

How To Get Away With Murder (seasons 1-5) - probably my biggest new watch of the year, a rollercoaster of suspense, drama and murder, another season to go...

Ocean’s Eleven - fun but cheesey

Blumhouse’s Truth or Dare - creepy faces and an interesting ending

Eli - it started one way then went another, I wasn’t convinced

Star Trek (2009) - I couldn’t really get into this one...

In the Tall Grass - a lot of running around in grass

Bloodride (season 1) - i loved this, a quirky idea, i binged it

Apostle - intense, a satisfying religious cult horror

The Platform - great idea, not sure on the ending

What Keeps You Alive - what happened in this one again?

History 101 - didn’t watch many episodes :P

The Prodigy - a decent child possession horror

Into the Night (season 1) - really enjoyed this, a highlight of the year for me, hoping for a season 2

It - pretty chilling and creepy, but a tad cheesey

Jurassic World and Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom - the first one has a brilliant dinosaur fight scene, the second one has too many plot holes and inconsistencies to take seriously

Knowing - a Nicholas Cage sci-fi/apocalpytic classic, pretty decent

Stranger Things (random episodes) - i tried to get my bf into the show but sadly he still isn’t much of a TV fan

Miranda (random episodes) - such fun!

Black Mirror (seasons 1 & 2) - another one i introduced the bf to, i got a bit further with him on this one, the very first episode being the highlight

The Last House on the Left - a decent remake, but nothing outstanding

Dark (season 3) - this, my friends, is one of the greatest shows of all time. want a timey-wimey story where everything is connected and has an amazingly satisfying conclusion? this is the show for you!

The Silence - a bad ‘A Quiet Place’

Geostorm - i’m a fan of disaster movies but this one wasn’t in the same league as some of the greats

Panic Room - a mum and kid hides in the panic room when a group of thugs break into the house, it was enjoyable but not all that memorable

Prisoners - a very long film with some enjoyable parts but overall unsatisfying

Girl on the Third Floor - it was okay, i can’t remember much of it

The Woods (season 1) - another Harlan Coben adaptation- not as good as ‘Safe’ or ‘The Stranger’ but still a gripping thriller

Time Trap - a fun time-travel film with some interesting turns of events

72 Dangerous/Cutest Animals (random episodes) - just ‘cause i love animals

Slasher (all of it) - some very gory deaths, especially in season 3. quite disturbing but keeps the suspense up throughout.

2012 - a guilty pleasure of mine, realistic or not

Kingsman: The Secret Service - a fun spy film, will be looking to watch the second one soon

Blackfish - this was harrowing, it really made me think, but overall i’m on the side of tilikum

Unsolved Mysteries (season 1 & 2) - watching some of these my jaw dropped, love theorising on this kind of stuff

Down to Earth with Zac Efron (season 1) - Zac is great in this, he seems so chill and literally ‘down to earth’

The Call - I love this film, seen it 3 times now

Contagion - very relatable right now, interesting to see the parallels with todays situation

Next in Fashion (season 1) - i didn’t get too far with this, i found it a little superficial

Searching - another of those internet web-cam based films. decent but not memorable.

Non-stop - another Nicholas Cage classic, this time a suspense thriller

Freaks - as the title suggests this one was rather weird, i didn’t quite gel with it

The Perfection - wow, that was an experience. definitely memorable, even if some characters make questionable decisions...

Extraction - not usually a fan of action-type thrillers, but i actually enjoyed this one, plus it has Chris Hemsworth in it!

Line of Duty (season 2) - full of suspense, a great build-up in the first 5 episodes, but the way they tied it up really grated on me

Insidious - watched this one with my sister. a genuinely good horror film on rewatch with an amazing cliff-hanger

A Quiet Place - another one watched with my sister. labelled a horror but its more sci-fi, either way its a classic. bring on the second film!

The Dark Tower - disappointing mostly.

Gladiator - i’d never seen this before and now i understand the hype- what an epic movie!

Criminal UK (season 2) - didn’t disappoint following the exceptional first season

Venom - a fun comedic marvel film, definitely need to watch more from Marvel in the next year- i need an order to watch them in as don’t know where to start

Our Planet (season 1) - chill David Attenborough to put on in the background

The Equalizer - a great action revenge thriller plot with a badass Denzel

Merlin (random episodes) - who doesn’t love a trip down memory lane with some nostalgic bbc merlin?

A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010) - pretty scary remake

The Witcher (season 1) - rewatched in order to familiarise myself again before season 2 - i didn’t realise how funny the show was until this time round, gotta love Jaskier!

American Murder: The Family Next Door - this was haunting

The Haunting of Bly Manor - phenomenal, emotional, creepy, heartbreaking - i much preferred it to Hill House

Abducted in Plain Sight - seriously, how naive are the parents in this? i could have a rant for hours about this!

The End of the F***ing World (seasons 1 & 2) - very bingeable, Alyssa makes me laugh too much, i love how relatable the show is

Fractured - didn’t expect much from this consipiracy-type film but it kept me guessing right till the end

The Ripper (limited series) - very intriguing, but the mysogyny in this was shocking

Inconceivable - a typical mother looking for her baby revenge plot but still entertaining

The Midnight Sky - i’d heard rave reviews for this but was disappointed by a lacklustre plot which was sacrificed for award-winning cinematography

Killer Women with Piers Morgan (season 2) - a pyschological interview series which looks into the mind of murderers, rather interesting

May the Devil Take You - scarier and jumpier than i thought it would be!

So 2020 obviously gave me a lot of time to watch a s**t load of stuff and looking back at it i feel like i got a decent amount of my watch-list ticked off! And obviously this is not including shows watched on other media so there’s that too (a special shout-out to the William Hartnell era of Doctor Who which I watched this year on BritBox). In all, 2020 has definitely introduced me to a few new fandoms and progressed my love for others.

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muthaz-rapapa · 3 years

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HealPre Final Review: Not terrible but not entirely laudable either...

*sigh* Where do I start?

Well, one thing I’m pretty sure of is that COVID definitely affected production somehow. By that, I don’t just mean the show needing to go on hiatus, resulting in a shorter run compared to previous seasons. I’m also talking about any possible changes that might’ve been made to the original narrative, if there was one.

Much like how Suite’s story had to be altered in the wake of the 2011 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami disaster, I believe Heal underwent a similar treatment in response to the pandemic becoming more widespread as 2020 went on.

Especially since it dealt with health and nature, HealPre is probably the season that has come the closest in relevancy to real life events.

Frankly, that can be quite scary because this virus was and is still a fucking nightmare on a massive global scale. From that view, I can understand why the writers/producers would be concerned of the anime hitting too near home. At least for their main demographic’s (children) sake, maybe they were compelled to shift to something lighter and less edgier so that the kids could find some comfort and enjoyment in the midst of the world’s current crisis.

So I can’t fault Toei for that, if that’s really the case. Going through a pandemic is terrifying, infuriating and exhausting and UGH. We could use something that can help ease our worries or momentarily distract us even a little bit.

Though would it have killed them to dedicate one episode to the importance of wearing a mask or washing hands? (-_- ;;)

HOWEVER! Seeing as I am not a fragile child, I’ve still got several (oho~) criticisms to air out before I put this season behind me. This review isn’t particularly scathing but...there is a lot of discontent so you’ve been forewarned.

But first, let’s tediously review what structure means in Precure.

We all know that there are certain things that will forever (?) remain fixed in the series formula.

The plot is always going to be “magical girls fight evil doers threatening to ruin the world”.

There are plot points to indicate story progression but in reality, are put there to correspond with toy releases which are usually marked by these five: introductions, first power up, midseason Cure, second power up, and build-up to the climax + finale.

There is usually a specific message (a theme) to be told with every season and motifs (narrative tools) to aid in getting that across. For HealPre, the theme is “living is fighting” and its motifs are “health” and “nature”.

I left out “animals” b/c 1) it didn’t hold as much significance as the other two did, 2) animals are part of nature anyway and 3) let’s be real, it’s just a synonym for “mascots” which we already get every year. :P

Right. I’m probably forgetting something but for the most part, these are immovable pillars of Precure.

Story, on the other hand, has more variables you can work with.

Story is how you tell the plot, how you convey the message.

Precure, as a tv series, is unarguably carried by its main stars, the Cures. So it only makes sense that a huge percentage of a season’s success owes itself to how much of an impact its characters had on the audience as well as how effective their individual story arcs were as sub-plots tying back to the bigger picture (the message/theme).

Ideally, these arcs would shine the brightest in the filler episodes, where the plot (“good guys vs. bad guys”) is less of a focus so there is more space for personal development and growth.

Also, not all character arcs have to be directly related to the plot but they ought to be written well in order to support the overarching message (the theme).

Now, has HealPre done that? Has each girl’s story demonstrated a good example of what “living is fighting” means?

...nnnnnnyyeeee... look, even I can’t give a straightforward answer on that because while technically they did, by virtue of Nodoka’s observance in ep 44 recounting it as such, there’s also actually not enough to make it feel substantial from a viewer’s standpoint.

At least, that’s what I thought while watching HealPre.

With the exception of Nodoka’s, there was a lot of saying but not much doing to convincingly back the other girls’ arcs up. The fillers themselves were very weak, loosely composed in relation to the motifs and, if I may be so blunt, downright boring that if Nodoka didn’t phrase those episodes as things that counted towards the theme, I probably would put up more of a fight on disagreeing. so shoot me, I’m soft for her :P

And I know that sounds confusing right now but I will elaborate as I continue.

Before that though, to be utterly fair, some seasons keep their respective themes shrouded in vagueness until they’re given a more concrete form in words around the finale. So it’s not like we can do much except make educated guesses on what they really are. Most of the time, we’re just measuring everything against our perception of a standard in the fog. Or maybe that’s just me?

Nevertheless, you can just tell, y’know? By simply watching and observing the whole show, you can tell if the characterization, the development, and the outcome (essentially the content given) really live up to what the season claims is endgame.

So let’s go through that first then. The characters, starting with our lead Cure...

Nodoka being the only Cure in her team to have an arc deserving of the praise “exceptional” should come as a surprise to no one.

She was the most solid in terms of direction on how her story was going to proceed. Out of all the girls, her journey had the greatest connection to the subject “health”, repeatedly delved into it every time the spotlight was on her and fulfilled everything it seemed to promise from her debut in episode 1.

Her struggles on the road to recovery from a long-term illness and the strength she’s drawn from that traumatizing experience as well as her time as Precure did more than establish her as the strongest character in HealPre.

She has also rose to become one of the most memorable Pink Cures in the entire franchise (personally, I rank her in the top 5).

And it’s not hard to see why she’s earned such high regard in a lot of fans’ hearts.

The writers clearly worked a lot on her character composition to the point where she can pretty much embody the theme of “living is fighting” all on her own.

She came into HealPre fresh out of the hospital and full of earnest desire to make the most of her newfound freedom but she also wasn’t without knowledge on what hardship is. From there, she only got stronger, even when she was stumbling and trying to figure things out along the way. She grew more fortified in her beliefs on what it means to be truly live a healthy life.

She bravely defied the ones who attempted to take advantage of her and twist her cause against her. And she learned that taking care of herself is equally as important as wanting others to be safe from harm.

It was never about winning or coming out on top. It was about protecting a fundamental yet precious truth. That one thing any decent human being should never have to concede: the right to live well.

Honestly, Nodoka is absolutely inspiring all around, as a fictional character, a heroine and a normal everyday person.

Everything about her arc went satisfyingly right like it was meant to and the best thing is, we don’t need to question it because we saw how it all happened with our very own eyes.

I sincerely wished I could say the same for the others but sadly, they were just too flawed.

And Pegitan can throw flippers with me all day if he wants but as undeniable as the above statements are about Chiyu, her arc failed to leap over the increasingly mounting disappointment I had with every episode that’s been assigned solely to her.

Two of which weren’t even about Chiyu. One centered on Pegitan’s admiration for his partner and the other focused on her brother, Touji. Which, while nice to give to supporting/secondary characters, is a fat waste of valuable screentime and not what I’m here for.

It also didn’t help that the conflict of her arc (the indecision over choosing between two dreams) started really late in the game and was resolved so quickly within two episodes. There was no time for me to get invested into it, there was no powerful sense of conviction like how Go!Pri or Hugtto handled theirs and really, it just felt like Chiyu was only following what the script dictated for her rather than genuinely awakening to her own competitive passion towards track and field.

It was almost like it didn’t matter. Almost as if the writers procrastinated in thinking up something worthwhile to further her development...but then settled on grabbing an old idea off the shelf without refining it to suit Chiyu when they ran out of time.

This happened similarly with Minami in Go!Pri and Elena in StarPre, both of whom left me angry at how their arcs were executed. Yet theirs don’t compare to how pissed off I am about Chiyu’s. Because while Minami’s took a while to arrive, it wasn’t done poorly and linked back to Go!Pri’s theme well enough. And while Elena’s was over crammed last minute, at least it was unique to her character and had lots of potential ways to play out if they actually started it earlier on in StarPre.

Chiyu’s arc is like a discount version of the former with hardly any of the intriguing qualities of the latter. Sure, she had two early episodes that laid out the two most important aspects of her life (her family inn and her dedication to her sport) but after that, they weren’t brought up again until we were only weeks away from the ending. Y’know, just to fill up episode slots and meet the minimal requirement of saying they did give Chiyu some issue to resolve.

It was not engaging at all.

Furthermore, the fact that her arc had very little to no relation with either “health” or “nature” hurt my appreciation of her character somewhat. I just...don’t think her kind of story really matches with the central topics of HealPre?

...but maybe I’m being bitter about this all wrong and that’s screwing up my rational thinking on this matter.

Because Chiyu’s arc is valid under the logic of the overall theme, I would never say it isn’t. And again, character arcs don’t have to be close to the plot nor is it necessary to employ the “suffering builds character” method to make them interesting.

Chiyu always does her best every day. That’s sufficient argument on why her story does fit within the frame of HealPre’s premise.

Guess I’ll just have to wrangle my resistance into acceptance somehow.

...still, her arc could’ve been done so much better than what we were given. Chiyu at least deserved that much.

Next, Hinata.

Since the beginning, I knew she was gonna be runner-up to Nodoka for having the (for lack of better term atm) “best” arc because it was heavily implied that she has ADHD and therefore, immediately checked off the “health” trait. She was even more obvious about it than Nozomi was.

Difficulty paying attention, hyperactivity, impulsiveness. Hinata didn’t just display all those signs, she also showed how hard it was for her to deal with the downsides to them on a regular basis.

She kept apologizing and put herself down excessively for inconveniencing her friends even though they never blamed her for her condition. Got them annoyed a few times, yes, but didn’t stop them from staying friends with her and definitely didn’t make them hate her either.

Everybody was understanding of Hinata...except Hinata because she always took her failures to heart and considered quitting several times to avoid the crushing dejection of making mistakes over and over again.

She got better, though, and no one could have summed it up more heartwarmingly than Nyatoran with the encouraging words he gave her at the conclusion of her arc.

But it still feels like there’s a huge chunk of development missing between the start and finish. Or rather, it seemed like all of it occurred offscreen and we were only informed later that it did in fact, happen.

To recap, iirc, Hinata had around 5 episodes that focused on her (ep 9, 13, 23, 35 and 40). Ep 18 doesn’t count because that was a Nyatoran-centric filler more than anything.

Ep 9 and 13 did their jobs of introducing and highlighting the details of Hinata’s troubles while also suggesting she will eventually learn to overcome her insecurities. The ones after, though? They pushed those issues to the backseat.

In Ep 23, she had to share the (uneven) spotlight with Asumi. Hinata’s improvements were briefly mentioned but the majority of the ep went to teaching Asumi what “cute” meant and how to get along with puppies. I mean, I get that Asumi recently joined the group and bonding with her was mandatory by tradition. But since each Cure only gets a limited number of eps to herself, it would’ve been more beneficial for Hinata if she didn’t have to split screentime with someone else’s growth schedule.

Ep 35 is slightly better but not by a whole lot. Sure, Natasha was able to reconcile with Elizabeth which was very sweet and heck, it was the goal for that episode. But again, nothing was really done or addressed about Hinata’s main conflict. She tossed it back with the rest of her homework to deal with later. ahaha, a TroPre hint

Then ep 40 came to formally close the curtains on her story and apparently, Hinata screwed up lots of times since...whenever but she picked herself up every time after and kept on trying. Awesome. So WHY didn’t we get to see that?

I’m not asking for the impossible here. I’m not asking for Hinata to be cured or anything miraculous like that. There is treatment available for ADHD but it is not curable.

Also, forcing Hinata to find a way to get better at studying, the thing she struggles with the most, is not the solution either because that would only make her more stressed and anxious over her own disorder.

What I want is to see how she moved from wailing “I can’t do it! I don’t wanna! I’m so scared of failing so why bother?!” to determinedly declaring “So what if I failed 1 or 100 times? So what if I fail another 1000 times? What matters is that I don’t let that stop me!”

That confidence is not something that can be built up overnight. It’s gradual and it takes numerous tries to reach from where Hinata was to where Hinata is now.

Telling me she grew emotionally stronger can only allow me to believe so much. I need to actually witness the changes as well.

If it weren’t for that, Hinata’s arc would have been a lot more impressive. Shame.

Finally............... Asumi.

Asumi, Asumi, Asumi, Asumi, Asumi, Asumi, Asumi... *sighs & drums fingers*

...she has no arc, ok? Seriously, what story is there to speak of, much less write a hefty analysis on?

A spirit born for the sake of Latte who just went along with the Precure ride because Latte didn’t want to abandon her duty. She made friends with those who aren’t Latte, extended her knowledge and understanding and gained valuable human experience during her stay on Earth. But ultimately, she will always define her entire existence around a puppy.

Nothing is more important than this puppy.

...... to be honest, Asumi not having a storyline isn’t what bothers me. It’s her lack of depth that does.

Hell, even the giant burger she ate had more depth than she did!

Oh, Asumi does have a personality alright. She’s consistently and unfailingly polite, utterly devoted to her raison d’être and in crucial moments, gives pearls of wisdom when the girls are in a pinch. She’s good.

But if that’s all she is, then she’s also painfully dull.

She has nothing to contribute to the discussion of health or nature, despite being created through an element of the Earth so you’d think she’d have an opinion of her own. At least worry about the planet that gave life to her as much as she frets over Latte all the time. But nope.

She shares the exact same face as Teatine’s past Precure partner so you’d think we’d explore that connection to see if it would influence or affect her in any way. But nope.

90% of the time, her role was just being Latte’s constant, fawning satellite.

Not only did that irritate the hell out of me but it just reinforced my stance that this type of character is one of the worst you can ever insert into any narrative.

Because if someone keeps reiterating how much they’re obsessed with this one thing and seldom talks about anything else without bringing their obsession into it... then what’s so special about them on their own?

You’ve practically surrendered the different qualities you could have had for worship of something else. That’s not a fair trade-in.

Asumi’s character is so packed with Latte-related stuff that there’s not much space left for anything that can be considered uniquely Asumi.

I mean, maybe it’s because I can never see myself or any normal person comfortable with living like that.

Living for the sake of being together with the one you love? Okay. But living with your whole universe revolving around that one thing? Making most if not all decisions based on this one thing?

No. That’s absolutely crazy, alright? Nobody with a healthy amount of awareness and self-worth would live like that.

And you can counter that Asumi’s just born like that. That she can’t help her origins because Teatine’s wish to protect her daughter is essentially what brought Asumi into existence so of course, her biggest concern would be Latte. At least, she wasn’t forced into it, right? As long as Asumi chose of her own will to follow Latte, it should be fine, right?

You can even use the fact that Asumi isn’t human. That she’s a spirit and we shouldn’t apply our human standards too strictly to her.

Yea, but those are feeble defenses in the face of her being a good main character, a good main heroine.

There are many ways to make a decent MC. The way Asumi was written proves she certainly does not possess traits that can classify her as true protagonist material. A protagonist has to be more than one amplified feature, which Asumi is not.

For the record, I don’t hate Asumi (she’s not interesting enough to generate a feeling that intense). I'm just severely let down because even if I don’t end up loving the midseason Cure for whatever reason, I can usually count on them to bring something intriguing to the table to dissect and analyze. At least I should find something to care about them.

Didn’t happen with her. :(

Oh god, I’ve been working on this post for days now and I’ve got a headache and with the baton pass happening in less than a few hours as I type this, I just really need to get it done and over with so please forgive me for speeding up through the rest, I’ll try to keep it as coherent as possible. NYARGH! (@_@ ;;)

Mascots.

Would you be surprised to hear that I’m not surprised that they were actually written very well?

Like I said early on, I suspected the return of fairy partnerships were going to improve the mascots’ significance in the story and, well, I was right.

This time, they didn’t just fill in the usual expectations of relaying exposition, serving as the Cures’ transformation devices and looking cute for the merchandise. The Healing Animals had to make progress on their own training to become doctors as well.

And they did through their relationships with their human partners.

It was a refreshing take on the mascot aspect of the series because the friendships felt really symbiotic. When the trainees arrived on Earth, they relied on the girls to help them perform their jobs as well as provide them with shelter, food, the occasional peptalk about their trainee status, etc.

Then as the story continued and they got to know each other better, the mascots were able to return the favor by giving support when the Cures needed it. Rabirin when Nodoka was frightened and confused about how to deal with Daruizen, Pegitan when Chiyu was having trouble choosing between two dreams and Nyatoran who made sure to always lift Hinata’s spirits up when she got upset at herself.

In short, they achieved their objectives of learning what it means to be good doctors by being there for their friends! How wonderful! :D

My memory for Latte is hazy, unfortunately, since she’s coddled by everyone all the time (can’t blame them, she’s friggin’ adorable! <3) but I’ll never forget how she stood firm on the battlefield to see things through, to fight for the Earth like she promised her mother. She started out so babie but showed us all there was enormous bravery behind her cute face and ugh, we should all be very proud of her! <3

The only major issues I had about the mascots were these:

1) Too many irrelevant fillers went to them. They only needed a maximum of two for their entire mascot group.

2) Latte kept getting sick even after she acquired a Precure partner of her own. I was hoping it wouldn’t hurt her as much as it did before Asumi arrived or that she would build up a stronger immunity but noooo, they insisted on torturing the poor pupper! T_T

Villains + Finale Battle

Not a lot needs to be said for the first part. We’ve had mediocre antagonists before. HealPre’s just happened to be extra annoying as they were despicable.

Which is worse because jerks you can just leave in the trash but assholes won’t stop harassing you unless you pummel them into their graves, set fire to their corpses and leave no trace of them behind! >:(

Y’all know who I’m talking about. Opinions on him continue to vary depending on who you talk to and if they’re avid fans of his face or not but whatever. The son of a bitch served his purpose and is dead now. That’s all that matters to me.

Anyway, the King was flat like his two lesser generals. He was neither intimidating nor distinguished enough in the brand of evil to really make us think of him as a serious threat and because of that, it ended up making the boss fight look like any run of the mill boss fight.

I know, they tried so hard with all that shiny animation but it just didn’t have that glorious sense of vindication that previous seasons (or ep 42) gave and I blame it all on this Rumiko Takahashi reject.

Also, this strategy was pretty useless?

They built it up like Earth was gonna sacrifice herself and die or something (she wouldn’t and even if she came close, deus ex machina would’ve kicked in to prevent that and COVID-induced caution too I guess).

But there were no signs of pain (well, that’s a relief) after absorbing Shindoi-ne and they really pissed King Byogen off more than they did any damage with the absorbed byo-gen power.

...so yea, this tactic was just to kill some time and budget, nothing more. Meh.

By the way, did Asumi eject Shindoi-ne’s pathogen out of her body yet or did they just leave it in there to bounce around until it eventually dissolves on its own?

Because that’s eww. I mean, it’s obviously not gonna hurt Asumi they can both relate on hyperfocusing their affection for someone so maybe the compatibility helps :P but still, ewwwww.

Fillers + Underused Motifs

In hindsight, perhaps HealPre didn’t exactly promise the content we I wanted about “health” and “nature” if their objective was to teach that any manner of “fighting” can count towards “living”.

......but fuck you Toei, you’re still cowards! >:/

Fillers will be fillers but it’s always better to try and make some of them as meaningful as possible. And they wasted the opportunity to inform an impressionable audience (during a very crucial period of our time, I must add) on a lot of things related to the HealPre’s motifs. Especially about the environment which for some ridiculous reason, they chose not to touch on for the main stretch of the overall story.

Proper hygiene, good diet plan and sleeping habits, regular exercise (already done by the girls a few times but could use another example), meditation, counseling/therapy (especially for mental health!), etc.

Real life pollution, climate change/global warming (IMPORTANT!!), deforestation, preservation vs conservation, endangered species, recycling, volunteering to clean up your community, etc.

These just came off the top of my head but yes, there’s more and no, I’m not saying that the writers need to cover all of them in extreme detail or replace the slice-of-life episodes.

But they should be able to mesh both serious and light-hearted together in harmony somehow. Like those fillers where the mascots saw people cleaning up littering at the park or that interaction with that arborist who taught them about wild animals and trees when the group went to visit a lake.

For health, maybe let the girls visit patients with chronic illness in the hospital or have them converse with a medical professional on some matter. Particularly if it’s got something to do with mental illness because stigma in Japan on those who are afflicted with such conditions is still prevalent and has caused a number of sad and shocking tragedies that could have otherwise been avoided if people didn’t have such outdated, judgmental mindsets.

That last part might be too dark for a children’s anime but there’s a lot more out there that is doable.

Do that without reducing it into a footnote, Toei. It is so necessary for your target audience to be aware of these issues at the age they are now. You have an almost 20-year old franchise to serve as a very effective platform. Make better use of it if you truly care about the message you’re conveying through your show!

Also, what the fuck.

The last episode was a mess. Why are you only mentioning this now when the season is already over?

This should’ve been brought up months ago!

All the things we could’ve seen the Cures done to protect the Earth without magic.

The excuse of “I didn’t know humans were so horrible!” is a shit one because everybody knows humans are deplorable trash when it comes to abusing the Earth. All the more reason why you have to persistently drill it into people’s heads that they should not be like those who don’t care or choose not to care.

One crack episode isn’t going to cut that.

God, I so want to unsee this ep just so I don’t have to end HealPre on a more sour note than it already was. *big aggrieved sigh*

Lastly (and this really is the end of my long ranting, I promise), the missing undisclosed lore.

There are few Precure seasons without a past lore of its own in the recent years. Is it a wonder, though?

Lore is mysterious and fascinating. If it involves a past Precure, even more so.

Sometimes fans might just hang onto a show because they’re curious about what happened before the main story. We’d never get the full tale of those adventures but at least, it’s fun to imagine the “prequel”.

Also, past Precure are just badass. Fact.

Strangely enough, we didn’t get that for Heal. All we know is that she was called “Fuu” and was very close to Teatine.

Hmm. Probably one of those changes caused by COVID interference cuz I can’t imagine the writers choosing not to tell her past in the original draft.

With all that finally off my chest, I’m ready to part ways with you girls until the next All Stars (Nodoka, I’m gonna miss you so much! T_T)

HealPre wasn’t the worst and it was nowhere near the best that it had the potential to be. But it’s passable. At least for those who loved it even with its flaws, I’m genuinely glad it was good for you.

For those who are thinking about picking it up (although why you would read this spoilery post before watching, I have no idea), if you’re looking for a standard magical girl anime to enjoy casually, then this is a safe pick. If you really want to invest your attention and heart into it, though? Then perhaps it would be in your interest to ask someone who saw it already to help you filter out the episodes that are worth watching. You don’t need to worry about the rest, they’re inconsequential. :P

Ok then! Thanks for reading as always, brave souls who have reached this point.

Stay healthy and safe out there and I’ll see you at the beach next week! Tropic underwater paradise here we coooooommmmmeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!! xDDD

#i rage quit two drafts and an outline before i got anywhere with this #now if you'll excuse me i gotta catch up on my workout and play pokemon and eat pho later #and catch up on the ccs manga #livin' the healthy life oh yea~#healin' good precure #cure grace #cure fontaine #cure sparkle #cure earth #hanadera nodoka #sawaizumi chiyu #hiramitsu hinata #fuurin asumi #rabirin #pegitan #nyatoran #latte

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happymetalgirl · 3 years

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October 2020

Six Feet Under - Nightmares of the Decomposed

I wrote a full-length review of this disaster of an album earlier in the month, and yeah, wow. Between the phoned-in performances from the instrumentalists who have proven themselves far above this joke of a band and the half-assed production this would have been a pretty crappy album even without Chris Barnes’ milk-aged vocals. But he’s here, and he’s managed to actually get worse too, gasping his way through the whole album and littering it with these ludicrous “high” squeals that would make Smeagol sound like a more competent death metal vocalist. It’s the worst thing I’ve heard all year, and what’s worse, I don’t think Six Feet Under is stopping.

1/10

With that out of the way, let’s cleanse the pallet right away with some really good shit.

Greg Puciato - Child Soldier: Creator of God

Ever reliable in his artistically integrity, explosive former Dillinger Escape Plan frontman, Greg Puciato, has been pretty sonically and artistically adventurous since the honorable dissolution of the iconic mathcore outfit, his most notable music project being the ethereal, synth-heavy The Black Queen. This year, however, Puciato has gone fully solo for a full-length project, and something told me to get ready for a wild ride, and boy was I right on that hunch. Borne out of an exponentiated process of songwriting that produced songs Puciato deemed unfitting for any of his current projects, what was planned as a small release to ship these songs out of the writing room eventually spiraled into a full-blown debut solo album clocking in at over an hour. A lot of solo projects play like clearly indulgent amateur hour sessions from an artist whose ego has been boosted pretty well from significant success from their main project, leading them to overconfidently try their hand at music they have no business trying it at. And it’s often approached under the understanding that it is a victory lap, more or less, and a satisfaction of creative impulses for the sake of it. Sometimes the resultant material is clearly inspired and showcases a side of an artist that certainly deserves some spotlight. Other times it feels like being trapped in an awkward situation with an acquaintance where they just show you all their newest pedals and production software and you’re just stuck there watching them fiddle around while you nod along and offer the occasional “wow, that’s pretty crazy” every now and then while they don’t pick up on the obvious cues that you are just waiting for them to finish playing with their toys. While Puciato was open about this album being borne from the very creatively borderless mindset that so often damns solo projects, Child Soldier: Creator of God is an actual realization of the type of grand, genre-spanning album that so many solo artists envision themselves making and set out to create, and it’s hardly a whimsical, amateurish crack at the styles within either. Puciato’s foray into sludge metal, industrial rock, harsh noise, darkwave, synthwave, and shoegaze, (1) makes for a hell of a dynamic and exciting track list, and (2) shows a much deeper than average respect for and relationship with the styles being played here. This isn’t some frontman thinking his charisma can carry him through a whole rap solo album; this is a well-rounded artist (also a hell of a frontman, no denying that) giving the most comprehensive look yet into his creative mind. The album leaps around in patches of different styles, strung together mostly by ambient connective tissue of various types, all with a great attention to detail paid to both texture and progression. We get early patches of smooth ambiance, but also aggressive industrial and sludge metal, eventually moving to more soothing and meditative synthy stuff around the middle, finishing with some serene, Have a Nice Life-esque shoegaze. But really there’s no way to sum up this album stylistically without breaking down every single song on here, and that would just ruin the fun and the experience. You really just have to experience it for yourself.

9/10

DevilDriver - Dealing with Demons I

Embarking on a conceptual double-album, Dez Fafara and DevilDriver’s first installment in the pair is a scoop of the, indeed, slightly above average, but unfortunately still plain and predictable modern groove metal they always offer up. I’ll give the band credit for keeping the pace up and clearly putting substantial energy into the performances on this album, while also trying to squeeze in a few shake-ups to their sound, like the clear Gojira-inspired riffage on the opening track. The album loses steam, unfortunately, as its punches lose their impact as it goes on.

6/10

Anaal Nathrakh - Endarkenment

While certainly cultivating a unique sound, Anaal Nathrakh’s unholy fusion of nasty modern blackened grindcore with sweeter metalcore and melodic death metal elements has its mixed results. And while that might at first sound like a relatively critical assessment of the Brits’ eleventh album, I’d say that there is actually a lot to enjoy and take in for at least the interesting mix of styles, most of which are hits rather than misses as well.

7/10

Enslaved - Utgard

Having been a fan of a good amount of their recent output, especially 2015’s In Times, I came out of Utgard moderately disappointed with how infrequently Enslaved galvanized their potent brand of Viking folky, progressive black metal effectively; the few moments the band do channel their strengths cohesively and purposefully left me wanting more rather than savoring those moments.

6/10

In Cauda Venenum - G.O.H.E.

It’s hard to, and indeed seems kind of in just to, sum up a heaping prog metal serving like G.O.H.E., comprised of two 22-minute halves, in a capsule review, but that is kind of the format my current busy circumstances have forced me into. French outfit In Cauda Venenum made a self-titled debut in similar two-long-track fashion back in 2015, and the band’s gothic and somewhat theatrical brand of atmospheric post-black-metal is continued on their sophomore effort here, drawing the obvious comparisons to Opeth and Katatonia, as well as Der Weg Einer Freiheit, Numenorean, and Sólstafir, and apart from the more frequent sample usage and extra drawn-out songs, there really isn’t that much to differentiate In Cauda Venenum stylistically. The band’s second album, unfortunately, resembles so many others in the field with big aspirations and the same inadequate means of getting there.

5/10

Apparition - Granular Transformation

A much more bite-sized early two-track offering, Apparition’s debut EP offers a more promising glimpse into a heady, atmospheric, yet still visceral manipulation of modern death metal that I would be curious to hear in a more long-form format. In a genre as extreme as death metal in recent years has been, finding artists effective at working with negative space can be difficult, but the two songs on Granular Transformation showcase a formidable dexterity from Apparition that I think can take them places.

6/10

Molasses - Through the Hollow

While indeed marred by some rough performances on songs with sometimes more desert to cross than water to make it there, there’s an undeniable occult hypnotism about the Dio-era-esque doom metal hollow that Molasses ritualize their way through.

7/10

Death Angel - Under Pressure

While certainly an odd choice on the surface, Death Angel’s acoustic EP and cover of the famous Queen song actually comes out pretty alright. The acoustic version of Act III’s “A Room with a View” comes off with the energy of something like Rush whenever they went acoustic, and the original acoustic cut, “Faded Remains” isn’t too bad either. The acoustic format did not, however, mask the drabness of “Revelation Song” from last year’s overall disappointment, Humanicide.

6/10

Necrophobic - Dawn of the Damned

The Swedes’ melodic brand of blackened death metal is nothing if not thorough on the quintet’s ninth full-length, Dawn of the Damned, covering all the ground that their fans expect their style to cover and doing so with more compositional and performative stamina than their average contemporary. While the band’s broader compositional approach is akin to the beating of a dead horse, I can’t deny it produces some tasty motifs in the process.

7/10

Bloodbather - Silence

After coming onto the blossoming metallic hardcore scene in 2018 with a standard, but potent enough 14-minute EP, Pressure, Bloodbather are back with another 14 minutes of similar, yet less promising material, doing little to set themselves apart from or on the same level of the likes of Jesus Piece, Vein, Knocked Loose, or Harm’s Way.

5/10

Infera Bruo - Rites of the Nameless

The Bostonians’ fourth full-length is, at the very least, a rather well-executed forty minutes of modern black metal a la Craft or Watain, but beneath the seams the band’s progressive tendencies twist what would otherwise be a fresh, but standard, slab of black metal into a more head-turning offering of the usual shrieks and blast beats.

7/10

Touché Amoré - Lament

While somewhat shaky in their compositional exploration in their fifth LP, the firmness of their emotive post-hardcore foundation allows for Touché Amoré to build upwards relatively steadily without losing that raw vulnerability that has made them so captivating to begin with.

7/10

Gargoyl - Gargoyl

This is the self-titled debut from Bostonian four-piece Gargoyl; a novel blend of dirty nineties grunge and gothic prog metal, Gargoyl come through with one of the more impressive genre fusions of the year, meeting the lofty sufficiency for dexterity with excessive vocal harmonies in a manner so uncanny that would make habe to Layne Stayley proud. While there is the expected room for improvement on the compositional end that many debut projects come with, Gargoyl have laid the groundwork for themselves fantastically and started off on a good foot.

7/10

Crippled Black Phoenix - Ellengæst

Through creative gothic flair and full-bodied guest vocal contributions that bolster the somber atmosphere beyond the typical post-metal album, the UK band’s most recent offering of “endtime ballads”, despite its few low points that undo its otherwise immersive atmosphere, serves as one of the more engaging releases under the broader post-metal umbrella of the past year.

7/10

Wayfarer - A Romance with Violence

The Denver-based quartet follow up 2018’s strong emotive case for the potential for evoking cathartic power of the atmospheric black metal which has so saturated the American scene to the point of numbness, their Americana-tinged third LP, World’s Blood, unfortunately, with a fourth LP whose compositional homogeneity and mere few intermittent bursts of enthralling atmospheric instrumentation more represent, rather than advocate the merit of, the saturation of the American atmospheric black metal scene.

6/10

Armored Saint - Punching the Sky

Though I think the structural homogeneity and John Bush’s similarly limited vocal delivery holds it back, with crunchy bangers like “Do Wrong to None” and “My Jurisdiction” alongside more tempered tracks the clearly grunge-influenced “Lone Wolf”, Bush and company provide a relatively stylistically diverse traditional heavy metal album for an age that could use more contemporary representation of classic styles (beyond the entire stoner metal genre LARPing as Black Sabbath too).

7/10

Spirit Adrift - Enlightened in Eternity

But it's not just the old guard representing their era of classic heavy metal robustly; a year and a half after their energetically melodic third album, Divided by Darkness, which took a triumphant melodic approach to classic heavy metal and doom metal similar to that of Khemmis on their excellent third album, Spirit Adrift ease up a bit on the hyper-soulful approach to guitar melody that had led me (and others I'm sure) to draw the comparison to Khemmis, and instead dive deeper into the headspace of the genre's earliest progenitors to achieve that unabashedly glorious rallying cry that is evoked by the very front cover of Enlightened in Eternity. While I am personally pretty partial to the very vulnerable and heartfelt melodic approach that characterized Divided by Darkness, the effectiveness with which Spirit Adrift are able to wield the sometimes Maiden-esque, sometimes Testament-esque sounds of the 80’s on this album is undeniably impressive.

8/10

Fever 333 - Wrong Generation

Providing the correction to this generation’s answer to Rage Against the Machine (after Prophets of Rage’s insufficient attempted revival) Fever 333 follow up last year’s debut of heavy, fired-up and modern take on rapcore with another 14 minutes of righteous anti-racist hardcore anger that’s attuned to the issues to a level that I wish more artists would at least express in their art. While the EP is 18 minutes long, the last two songs, “The Last Time” and “Supremacy”, don’t match the sonic energy of the first six tracks. The somber piano-led snippet-length ballad, “The Last Time”, should have been the conclusion of the album, but the closing track, “Supremacy”, while as conscious as the tracks before it, is basically a late-stage formulaic Linkin Park track that flatters neither of the two bands. Despite botching the landing though, Wrong Generation is a ripping batch of songs that well represent the current unrest and provide a positive hypothetical idea of what it might be like if Rage Against the Machine were in their prime and active today.

7/10

Mörk Gryning - Hinsides Vrede

The Swedes return from their 15-year disillusioned absence from the studio with a concise and clearly renewed enthusiasm for the energetic black metal that they put forth on Hinsides Vrede. Dynamically bolstered by folk-metal compositional tendencies and more than a dash of that famed Gothenburg melodicism (I know they’re from Stockholm and in fact their melodic approach often does heaven to that of their close neighbors from Uppsala, Watain), Mörk Gryning’s seamless return to music finds them jumping into the modern black metal scene’s advanced compositional rubric with relative ease.

7/10

Zeal & Ardor - Wake of a Nation

Having covered their output since their debut and being a big fan of Manuel Gagneux’ project, it pains me to say, especially given the noble pretext and occasional momentary flashes of sobering messaging, that this six-song mini release really doesn’t capture the unique sonic pallet that has made Zeal & Ardor such an interesting act to listen to for the past few years in the most flattering light. The title track is possibly the least of the offenders here, but all the songs here function by taking a little snippet of sound that samples Zeal & Ardor’s broader stylistic range, and drawing it out across these short, but all too minimally composed tracks in such a way that they lose their momentum very quickly. Like I said, I wholeheartedly appreciate, sympathize with, and support what Manuel Gagneux is doing to lend his band’s platform to the addressing of the dire issue of today’s racism through musical means with this project, and when its social motivation is at the forefront, it’s at its most potent, but musically, unfortunately, it’s just desperately underwritten in a way that doesn’t fairly represent how accomplished Zeal & Ardor really are with their sound.

5/10

Sevendust - Blood & Stone

The flashes of crushing grooves reminiscent of their earlier work on Blood & Stone that highlight how well Sevendust can harness nu/alternative metal to execute pummeling attacks with the right crunchy guitar tone, unfortunately, don’t come frequently enough on their twelfth LP to mirage the exhaustion that has come of the band’s writing process after such frequent, unrelenting output and the all too apparent desperate need for a recalibrating, refreshing break, which they certainly deserve for their tenacity.

5/10

Undeath - Lesions of a Different Kind

In one of those cases where the ridiculously gratuitous album cover actually represents the album’s sound quite well, Rochester, New York five-piece, Undeath mince neither words nor sounds on their debut LP in their 100% upfront, no-nonsense, and wonderfully nasty delivery of death metal. Eschewing even the slightest sense of snobbery or pretense for aimless ambition, the band simply compile the genre’s tried and true elements of bellowing growls, filthy riffs, mean-ass down-tuned chugging, and blood-pumping double-bass with blast beats into an addictive slab of raw, uncured death metal that serves as a testament to the merit of not overthinking shit.

8/10

Griffon - Ὸ Θεός Ὸ Βασιλεύς

On their sophomore LP, Parisian quintet Griffon channel the world innovative ethos that has become rather prominent in their scene into a somewhat short, but definitely sweet offering of modestly ambitious black metal that captures much more effectively than most albums of similar style and lesser imagination, the divine grandeur that the genre so often tries and fails to embody.

8/10

Bring Me the Horizon - Post-Human: Survival Horror

After taking the hard left into current pop music trends very transparently on their controversial, which was at least partially intentional on their part, and ultimately really patchy, but not wholly awful, 2019 album, amo, Oli Sykes and co. walk it back substantially for this smaller release here, back to That's the Spirit, even Sempiternal, a prospect that might get a lot of the band's more long-time, metalcore-centric fans excited, but I would suggest those fans temper their expectations of Post-Human: Survival Horror. The band reunite with the anthemic metalcore/deathcore that put them on the map for a good chunk of this album, and the intro track, "Dear Diary,", might even give some false hope of the prodigal sons returning home. But songs like the cookie-cutter single, "Teardrops", provide strong evidence that, while the band have re-embraced their old aesthetic, they have not kicked the pop vocal or compositional habits. And the project really does run out of energy in its final third because of this compositional homogeneity. I do want to highlight the song, "Kingslayer", which features a very in-form Babymetal (I loved their album last year), because their fun, not-so-serious approach to the crossing of J-pop and metal music in their feature on this track among the other songs around it provides a contrast to the more formulaic, disinterested radio pop swagger that Bring Me the Horizon have been trying to jam into their sound that could perhaps inform Bring Me the Horizon's artistic approach to integrating pop music if they really are so hellbent on doing so. Ultimately though, as much as they want to move into newer territory, this trajectory-revising release shows just how much more solid Bring Me the Horizon are in their metalcore territory than they were on amo. It had its predictable hiccups, but this thing wasn't too bad.

7/10

Pallbearer - Forgotten Days

With the slow, sludgy, down-tuned riffing of the menacing opening title track and the similar chug of “Vengeance & Ruination” being the sole exceptions, the remainder of Pallbearer’s fouth full-length largely sees them operating in the same niche they have in their three previous albums. And while this could invoke accusations of playing it safe, the brimming heartfelt sorrow and resistance to succumbing to despair across Forgotten Days is enough to wave that away, as Pallbearer showcase just how emotive doom metal can be.

8/10

Bleeding Out - Lifelong Death Fantasy

The very new act and fresh Profound Lore signing, Bleeding Out, certainly display more dynamic capability than your average local grindcore scene’s biggest names here on their 18-minute debut for the label, but as of now it is still just a glimpse of potential for more effective future implementation. It’s a good start, though, and I’ll be looking forward to a more long-form project from these guys.

6/10

Evildead - United States of Anarchy

Every year we get the resurrection of some long-inactive old-school band who seem to have found that missing spark at last; we’ve seen the return of smaller bands to the studio like Angel Witch or Sorcerer and long-awaited revivals of iconic acts like Possessed. This year, Los Angeles’ Evildead has seen fit to make their commentary on the massive ongoing sociopolitical upheaval. Despite my love for the 80’s thrash scene they were born out of, the combination of the utterly lame band name, logo, and covers for either their ‘89 or ‘91 albums never really made me want to check them out, but seeing the horridly cheesy and incoherent cover of United States of Anarchy (I mean how much more on-the-nose can you get), my morbid curiosity got the best of me. Maybe I’d be wrong to have judged them by their cover, plenty of my favorite 80’s albums have particularly goofy cover art. So what do we get from Evildead in 2020 with this fucking album? Well, it’s not as poorly performed as the past few Anvil albums I’ve had to review have been, but Jesus the lyricism is similarly cheesy 5th-grade-level stuff and smacks of silly political incoherence that essentially boils down to “enlightened centrism” with mix of that good ol’ Illuminati-conspiracy-theory belief that no political thrash album is apparently complete without. I mean there’s just basic acknowledgment of the prominent problems of the day and the fact that both major political parties are bad and that corruption is rampant all throughout DC, but Evildead not only barely scratch the surface, they apply the same level cynicism to the “both sides” they criticize with no substantiation to their criticism despite that mindset being a big reason for our being where we are right now, mixed in with the occasional conspiracy-paranoia about the shadowy underworld running everything, so no real solutions or even proper addressing of these problems. Like, the same level of criticism is levied at right-wingers and communists, like communists are at all why this country has gone to shit. And the generic Anthrax/Megadeth type of thrash instrumentation, while rumbly and mixed well to highlight its bass heaviness, doesn’t exactly make it easy to get past the commentary deficiencies on here.

4/10

Emma Ruth Rundle & Thou - May Our Chambers Be Full

Rounding off their year (at least I think), with a long-teased collaboration with Emma Ruth Rundle, Thou finally present their massive sludge-doom sound in a much more flattering light than the previous cover albums this year did. Thou's original material continues to highlight just why their relatively stiff sound is much more cut out for that, original material, than for trying to bend beyond its flexibility to tribute grunge songs. And while Thou being back in their more effective department, Emma Ruth Rundle's contributions, beyond just her gorgeous and ethereally haunting vocals, to the album's atmosphere, dynamic, and structuring really take the collaboration to the next level. Not to say that Thou are completely overshadowed and relegated to the background on this record or that they don't contribute to a fair share of the legwork here; the workload is shared pretty equally, and both collaborators have their moments of prominence, but Emma Ruth Rundle's ever-present gothic/folky influence really directs the music in a way that plays to Thou's strengths in a way I'm not sure they would have been able to on their own. It's great work from both of them, and I'd be eager to hear Thou find more collaborations like this in the future that push them into doing more interesting things with their crushing doom sound, as opposed to the rather tepid collaborations with The Body.

8/10

Auðn - Vökudraumsins Fangi

Sadly, three albums in, Auðn have only barely exceeded the bare minimum for naturalistic atmospheric black metal, with no signs of significant improvement to be found. The Icelandic band earn points for their earnest delivery, but they never seem to fully make it out of the rut that the genre’s many contemporary acts have dug.

5/10

Botanist - Photosynthesis

The black metal traditionalists might have had to accept that the floodgates to bright ambience and serene shoegaze in the genre have been opened and that there's no going back now, but even as an avid Deafheaven fan, I'm sometimes momentarily surprised at just how heavenly some black metal has gotten lately, and this new album from Botanist is one of those albums. And while it sometimes slips into some of the current wave's typical ruts, the sheer blindingly illuminating aura of this album when it reaches those high points (and it does so frequently) is enough to pull it out from those gutters and high into the cosmos. Yeah, another splendid offering of nature worship from Botanist.

8/10

Mr. Bungle - The Raging Wrath of the Easter Bunny Demo

Making their return after over a decade, Mike Patton recruits both Dave Lombardo and Scott Ian for the long-awaited fourth Mr. Bungle album, which is titled in homage to the first Mr. Bungle demo which it is comprised largely of much clearer re-recordings of. Ever impressive, Mike Patton balances aggression and eccentricity like a tightrope walker on this project too, while his bandmates do the same with thrash metal’s natural adrenaline rush while pushing the genre into new compositional and stylistic territory without sacrificing that crucial whiplash. It’s a great time, and definitely one of the year’s best thrash albums.

8/10

Carcass - Despicable

While they've been much less prolific since their reboot than they were prior, Liverpool's melodic death metal pioneers simply continue to demonstrate their excellence in this seemingly effortless four-track appetizer to next year's Torn Arteries. Anyone familiar with the band's brutal form of melodic death metal will certainly be pleased with the four quite sufficiently pulverizing cuts here; those who may only be familiar with some of the band's many less muscular imitators might be surprised, and pleasantly so, with the Englanders' ability to lay on the infectious guitar melody without sacrificing an ounce of force.

8/10

#metal #heavy metal #death metal #black metal #deathcore #sludge metal #post metal #new album #album review #new music #thrash metal #blackened death metal #blackgaze #experimental metal #mathcore #doom metal #stoner metal #groove metal

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mirthfulbrewist · 4 years

Text

Alternate Deck of Many Things

...To Mix and Match with the official deck

Pictured: The Golden Tarot

Deck of Fate

Artefact, Wondrous item.

An intricately carved wooden puzzle box contains this deck of cards, which are luxuriantly illustrated and edged in gold foil. When you find the deck, it may contain as few as 13 or as many as 22 cards.

Unless otherwise stated, as soon as you look at the card you’ve drawn from the deck, its magic takes effect. You may draw several cards at once, but must declare the number ahead of time.

Alternate Balance. Your mind suffers a splitting alteration, and a piece of your soul is wrenched from your body. A creature identical to yourself appears within 60 ft. of you. It has the same ability scores, hit points, features, proficiencies, memories, and items as your character, excluding artefacts.

This creature represents all the aspects of yourself you are not proud of. For good or neutral-aligned characters, the duplicate’s goal is to fulfil your darkest, most selfish whims. For evil-aligned characters, it will try to foil your evil deeds at every turn. The DM must decide under what circumstances the Duplicate will vanish, and your soul will be cleft back together.

Alternate Comet. Your body freezes in time and your soul is transported to the plane of thought, where an encounter awaits you. The monsters present might be old phobias, ghosts from your past, or some similar manifestation of a personal fear. If you single-handedly win the encounter, your soul is returned to your body, and you gain one level. Alternately, you can choose to leave the plane of thought and return to your body at any time during the encounter, in which case you do not gain a level, and the card fades away.

Alternate Donjon. You disappear from your current location and appear in a locked cell within a dungeon you do not recognize. The dungeon cannot be entered or exited by means of teleportation magic.

Alternate Euryale. The card's medusa-like visage curses you. Whenever you move during combat, you can choose to halve your speed OR roll a dexterity saving throw at a DC of 8. On a failed save, you fall prone. This curse can be lifted with a Remove Curse spell.

The Alternate Fates. Reality's fabric unravels and spins anew, allowing you to avoid or erase one event as if it never happened. You can use the card's magic as soon as you draw the card or at any other time before you die. When the card disappears, it leaves a permanent mark on your body which some creatures may recognize.

Alternate Flames. You are briefly mentally connected to your destined adversary. You each learn one another's general location and identity, as well as a vague idea of their each other's alignment or intentions. You can talk to one another as through the Sending spell.

This connection might only occur once, or it could return at intervals. Neither party can force the connection to open nor close.

Alternate Fool. Your progress is stunted. You do not gain a level next time you are meant to, whether by milestone or XP.

Alternate Gem. You can activate this card multiple times. As an action, you may hold this card and ask for any currency, raw materials, spell components, or non-magical equipment and have it appear at your feet. The card crumbles into a fine sand once the total value requested reaches 50,000gp.

Alternate Idiot. The memory of a certain person, event, location, or object of the DM's choice disappears from your mind. You also have no memory of drawing this card, which vanishes once the effect takes place. This memory can be restored with a Wish or Greater Restoration spell.

Alternate Jester. Your body morphs and changes into that of a different playable race, and your racial features, Hit Points, and Ability Scores are adjusted accordingly. Your appearance maintains certain recognizable hallmarks, such as eye and hair colour, bone structure, et cetera, insofar as your new race allows it. Alternately, instead of changing your race, your DM may grant you a random Natural Weapon, which you become proficient with. You can summon and dismiss this weapon at will, in a manner appropriate to it. (e.g, retracting fangs and claws.)

Natural Weapons: Your natural weapon may be claws, fangs, spines, horns, a tail, etc. Your unarmed strikes with this weapon deal an additional 1d6 bludgeoning, piercing, or slashing damage, whichever is appropriate, and you are proficient with your unarmed strikes. The natural weapon is magic and you have a +1 bonus to the attack and damage rolls you make using it. While you are wielding a single light weapon and no shields, your natural weapon counts as a second light weapon for the purpose of two-weapon fighting.

Alternate Key. The card dissolves away into a palm-sized key. In your mind, you can sense the location of the great treasure it leads to, though you do not know what the treasure is.

Alternate Knight. When you activate this card at any time after drawing it, it will transform into a +1 magic longsword. You may choose any willing NPC to knight into service, making them a 4th-level Fighter or Paladin, in addition to any levels they already have. The character retains these levels and the sword will become bonded to them for as long as they are loyal to you. If the character loses loyalty to you, they lose these levels and the longsword turns back into a card, reappearing in the deck.

Alternate Moon. You are granted the ability to cast the wish spell 1d3 times. You can direct this wish at a specific God or Patron. When all charges are expended, the card vanishes into glittering dust.

Alternate Rogue. You become an outcast from a community of the DM's choice which once welcomed you, whether it be your hometown, your religious order, or even your race as a whole. Though people who know you well have not changed their opinions on you, strangers have become suspicious and distrusting of you.

Alternate Ruin. The world forgets about you. All memory and written record of you and your actions disappear from the minds of the living. This can only be undone with divine intervention, or a Wish spell.

Alternate Skull. You summon an avatar of death—a ghostly humanoid skeleton clad in a tattered black robe and carrying a spectral scythe. It appears in a space of the GM's choice within 10 feet of you and will fight for three rounds before disappearing. If anyone other than you attacks the Avatar of Death, those attack have no effect. (the following statblock is different from the official one.)

Avatar of Death

Medium undead, neutral evil

Armor Class 20

Hit Points half the hit point maximum of its summoner

Speed 60 ft., fly 60 ft. (hover)

STR 16 (+3) DEX 16 (+3) CON 16 (+3) INT 16 (+3) WIS 16 (+3) CHA 16 (+3)

Damage Immunities necrotic, poison

Condition Immunities charmed, frightened, paralyzed, petrified, poisoned, unconscious

Senses darkvision 60 ft., truesight 60 ft., passive Perception 13

Languages all languages known to its summoner

Challenge -- (0 XP)

Incorporeal Movement. The avatar can move through other creatures and objects as if they were difficult terrain. It takes 5 (1d10) force damage if it ends its turn inside an object.

Turning Immunity. The avatar is immune to features that turn undead.

Actions

Reaping Scythe. The avatar sweeps its spectral scythe through a creature within 5 feet of it, dealing 7 (1d8 + 3) slashing damage plus 4 (1d8) necrotic damage. The creature must make a Death saving Throw. A failed death save becomes permanent and leaves a ghastly scar, and can only be reset with a Wish or Greater Restoration Spell.

Alternate Star. You gain two new proficiencies of your choice. These proficiencies can be with skills, tools, instruments, armour, or weapons. (for armour, it can only be one class higher than your current proficiency. None to light, light to medium, or medium to heavy. You must still meet the minimum strength requirement for heavy armour.)

Alternate Sun. A wondrous item (which the GM determines) appears in your hands. In addition, you gain resistance to one damage type of the GM’s choice, or one of your preexisting resistances becomes an immunity.

Alternate Talons. Every magic item you wear or carry gains one Minor Detrimental Property, determined randomly. Artifacts gain a Major Detrimental Property.

Alternate Throne. Intelligent creatures suddenly recognize you as a royal or otherwise powerful and influential. You gain proficiency in either the Persuasion or Intimidation skill, and you double your proficiency bonus on checks made with that skill.

Alternate Vizier. The image of an eye appears on your forehead until this card's effect is concluded. At any time you choose within one year of drawing this card, you can ask a question about a possible future, and mentally receive a truthful answer to that question. Besides information, the answer can help guide you toward or away from that future. In other words, the knowledge comes with wisdom on how to apply it.

The Alternate Void. This black card spells disaster. Your soul is swapped out for that of a great evil that was banished to the void long ago.

#domt #alternate domt #alternate deck of many thing #deck of many things #magic item #magic items #artefact #d&d #wonderous item #wondrous item #utility #dungeons and dragons #5e #homebrew

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once-upon-a-scenario · 4 years

Text

Bakugou/reader: Icarus, Part 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 Part 5

Katsuki won. You lost. It’s that simple- and at the same time, it isn’t.

Or: a borrowed handkerchief and repressed emotions are a recipe for disaster.

(Do you know that painful feeling when you have a *very* specific idea on how a story is supposed to end but you have no idea what happens leading up to that ending. I suffer :,) forgive me if things stop making sense until the finale, my pacing is a mess and I am very Tired lmao

Fun reading tip: in this series, whenever reader does *not* speak in italics, that is a significant piece of dialogue!

Also note for people who care: the readers in my personal writing will always be neutral in regards to gender and appearance unless you request a specific pronoun/physical trait!

-Eve) _________

It should be over.

In fact, Katsuki decides, vein throbbing in his temple as he tries to concentrate on his sums and very pointedly not look over at you and your window-side seat, it is over. You lost. You were pinned under him for fifteen full seconds. (He counted, and he knows he’s fucking right.)

“Bakugou,” Kirishima says as they walk home together in the afternoon, offering him a bottle of what looks like apple juice. “Lighten up, man! You won fair and square last week, you know. Everyone saw.”

“Who even drinks apple juice anymore? We’re not in fucking preschool,” is Katsuki’s gracious reply as he snatches the bottle. “And of course I won, hair-for-brains. I don’t need to ‘’’lighten up.’’’”

Kirishima shrugs, smiles, and drops the issue. This is one of the reasons why Katsuki tolerates him. Kirishima usually knows when he’s right about things.

(This doesn’t stop idiots like Kaminari from loudly and obnoxiously nudging him the next day at lunch when you pass by their table, “Bakugou, look, you should try and talk-“

You seem to glance towards him for a brief moment, and Katsuki, feeling ready to explode something, turns a silently furious gaze towards Kaminari before pouncing on him. Aizawa-sensei looks pissed about the disruption at mealtime and hauls them both to opposite ends of the cafeteria. Katsuki notices that you’re not watching the commotion, ignoring it in lieu of speaking with Deku at his table.

He seethes. Shitty nerds of a feather flock together, apparently.)

___

And life goes on.

Katsuki has better things to focus on. Like crushing Deku, once and for all, or making sure nobody gets ahead of him in anything else. Cleaning out more dust bunnies from underneath his bed. Picking apart Kaminari and Ashido’s stupid puns. Trying to tutor Kirishima, because Kirishima asked for it- it’s a shitty waste of time but whatever, it’s not his fault if hair-for-brains *wants* to get shouted at for his abysmal grades. Katsuki’s fully willing to oblige. Days turn to weeks, people forget about you and him and your momentary little rivalry (if it could even have been called that).

You’re there, in the background, like you’ve always been. Quiet. Distant. You still get good grades and you still walk home alone. It’s annoying, but Katsuki reminds himself that he won and to start giving a shit now would be losing, plus your grades may be high but they’re not as high as his, so he learns to ignore you. Everything’s fine, actually. Every day, you sit at your desks on opposite sides of the classroom and he sometimes glances at you over his notebook, thinking about how shitty it is of you to wear your uniform in that particular way where it looks just an inch too crumpled around the collar. He wants to reach across the room and straighten it out because goddamn, if it’s not getting on his nerves-

But alright, he reminds himself. He doesn’t give a shit what you choose to do with your life.

Probably the only drawback to this approach is that…you don’t seem to give a shit about the sparring match, either. You just talk a lot with Deku, which is fucking horrible to witness.

Whatever.

___

Later, he contemplates exactly how he ended up in this situation. There are a series of steps to it:

1. He challenges you

2. You walk away

3. You become unable to walk away

4. He wins

5. Everything’s over

6. Until it’s not

Because here he is, walking home on Kirishima’s right. And here you are, walking along on Kirishima’s left. He has no idea how you got here. You’re talking with Kirishima about some shitty new video game, the one that’s had ads for it playing incessantly on the TV since last month. Katsuki grits his teeth.

You’re talking solely to Kirishima, looking only at Kirishima. Blatantly ignoring him.

What the fuck.

He’s about to open his mouth, give you a piece of his mind, because who gave you the goddamn right to lose and then go walking around as if you own the place, he didn’t even know Kirishima was dumb enough to hang out with you, of all people- but then you’re at a crossroads, and you turn, looking apologetic.

“Are you going that way?” Kirishima asks brightly, gesturing to the path branching out to the left. You nod.

See you tomorrow, then, Kirishima- Bakugou.

“Fuck you,” is right on the tip of Katsuki’s tongue, but then he takes another look at you. There’s something weird about your expression- it’d looked pretty damn chipper until a few seconds ago, and it still kind of is, but something’s off, too. He can’t put his finger on what it is, exactly. Maybe it’s just how your smile suddenly seems to have gone a few degrees cooler; then again, since when has your smile ever actually looked like one, and since when has he cared what your smile looks like in the first place?

This pisses him off, actually, but for some inexplicable reason, instead of flipping you off, he just shrugs and glowers and asks “since when do you walk home this way, anyway?”

I’m actually visiting a friend.

You shrug a little and offer him a short nod of farewell, before waving at Kirishima as you turn down the left path and begin walking away.

Katsuki stares for a moment, then whirls around and stalks down the opposite fork in the road, Kirishima hot on his heels. “Hey, Bakugou- wait!”

“Catch up, hair-for-brains!” he hollers back, kicking aside an empty can in his way. Fuck this, honestly. Fuck you for being a confusing little shit.

He cleans out the dust bunnies again as soon as he gets home, attacking them with a fury that makes his father look vaguely disturbed while his mother curses loudly.

______

The nice thing about trying to forget about something is that sometimes, the world just seems rigged against you. Apparently the idea of moving on with your life is just that repulsive.

Or rather, Aizawa-sensei seems to have some sort of fucking problem.

Why the fuck else would he keep making Katsuki spar with you? There’s some bullshit excuse about how your quirks are compatible, sure, something-something-Reflection-repels-explosions-and-prevents-injury, but that’s irrelevant. Initially, Katsuki’s pretty sure he can enjoy crushing you again. That should take care of this lingering uncomfortable feeling.

And he does crush you again. Several times, in fact. He counts the seconds whenever he has you pinned and they’re never below fifteen. He actually lands a proper punch a few times, too, which effectively cancels out the smarting in various parts of his body from where you’ve pushed him back with a few sharp kicks of your own.

You always retaliate with a nod and a bow and a thanks for the sparring session.

He wonders if it would somehow physically hurt you to acknowledge that it’s anything more than that. You probably know. There’s no way you’re that stupid. He knows you know, and you know he knows you know, and he knows-

Goddammit, he didn’t ask for this migraine.

Maybe it’s a testament to how much this is messing with his head that the next time you thank him, he feels compelled to not flip you off. He glares at you instead, wiping a dash of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, and answers with a don’t know what the fuck you’re thanking me for, I just beat your ass, didn’t I?

The handkerchief you offer him for his split lip is insulting enough; the smile that accompanies it could be described as almost wry. Amused, or maybe faintly mocking. And honestly, he can’t understand what the hell you find so funny right now, but then his blood pressure stops mid-skyrocket as he realizes: this is the first time your smile has looked anything but docile and smoothly polite.

Is that actually progress- has he actually chipped away at you- or is it just you being an unreadable asshole?

There’s really no way to tell.

Later that afternoon, he slams the front door when he arrives home and stalks straight to his room, where he spends the rest of the day stuck between intervals of furious studying and furious pacing.

(He finds your handkerchief in his pocket later that day, still slightly smeared with dried blood-

Somehow, he doesn’t hurl it straight across the room, and the reality of that is infuriating to think about.)

_______

“Hey man,” Kirishima eyes the white cotton peeking out of the pocket of Katsuki’s baggy uniform pants, his brow furrowed, “isn’t that-?”

“None of your damn business, is what it is,” Katsuki snaps in reply, shoving it all the way back in.

If you’re not looking for the thing, he doesn’t need to give it back. Like hell if he’s going to be seen carrying it around. It’s only in his pocket because he didn’t want a bloody, clearly-not-his handkerchief lying around where his parents could find it.

He meets your gaze across the classroom during break, right before you saunter outside with Deku at your side, chattering excitedly about some shitty nerd thing. You smile at him. He’s sure it doesn’t reach your eyes.

It’s not like you even asked for him to give it back, anyway.

_______

Weeks pass. Months, maybe. He fights you again, and again, and somehow, this becomes routine- part of life at U.A, which is nowhere near what he expected from this goddamn school. He ends up sitting next to you for projects where he’s not assigned with Kirishima. It sucks ass. Your gaze is still glassy and cool and you still like to play the pacifist, and you’re way too good at every assignment which just makes him want to fight you again (and you, of course, will fucking decline because you don’t fight for sport).

(He still hasn’t given your handkerchief back. You still haven’t asked for it- but he’s getting real tired of finding it in his pocket.)

At some point, he starts greeting you back in the mornings when you bow your head in his general direction. It’s an instinctive reaction. He has to catch himself to stop from nodding back.

______

The sports festival comes and goes. You drop out halfway through with an average-but-commendable performance, and Katsuki tells himself that this is did not add to his rage by the time he was facing the icy-hot bastard, that he was not somehow incredibly frustrated by the feeling that you, the wimp who’s never come close to winning a single match against him, should have gotten farther than that. The thought that you could’ve won a medal makes no sense, but it spins around in his head all the same.

He runs into you in the hallway later on, and you nod briefly. You’re holding a bunch of tissues to your bleeding nose. Looks almost comical with your reserved, high-and-mighty air. Katsuki feels too angry at his own win to sneer, but then you just offer him a smile.

Congratulations, Bakugou. You never disappoint.

You walk off with Deku again that day and Katsuki watches. He becomes suddenly aware that there’s still a handkerchief in his pocket. He very firmly feels nothing about the fact that he could offered it to you. You’re a U.A student, you can take a fucking nosebleed, and he doesn’t care.

______

“Bakugou,” Kaminari announces one day while they’re playing video games at his place, along with Kirishima, Ashido, and Sero- “it’s nice to see you’re actually friends now. I thought you were gonna kill each other at one point. Funny how things change, yeah?”

Mina and Sero emphatically agree and Katsuki, cursing vehemently, contemplates smashing the console.

_____

It’s not as if he asked for this to happen. It’s not his fault that fate or destiny or bad luck or whatever bullshit you want to call- whatever it is, it keeps throwing you at him.

Kirishima’s absent on this particular Friday, sick from a cold, and Katsuki’s walking home alone because the other three idiots decided to go to the arcade and he doesn’t have time for that shit. Not that he cares. He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets and looks ahead, squinting at the figure walking some ways in front of him.

...U.A uniform, crumpled shirt collar. Goddammit.

You’re on the phone, and as he draws nearer, he can hear you humming in agreement with the person on the other end; you laugh a little, suddenly, and that catches him off guard. He didn’t know you were actually capable of laughter. It’s a light, quiet sound, more of a brief puff of air than anything else, and it’s a shitty excuse for a laugh, but whatever. Typical.

In a moment, he’s caught up to you, and you look up mid-laugh and meet his gaze. Your eyes widen just a fraction- the first time you’ve looked like that since the first time he sparred with you. It’s no longer very satisfying, though. Not when you’ve since made up a million different ways to screw with him.

...ah, I’ve just run into a classmate. I’ll call you later, Takeo-kun. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.

(Your tone is oddly sweet.)

There was no need, actually, because Katsuki doesn’t fucking care what you do or who you call and he’s certainly not walking home with you when there’s not even Kirishima here to use as an excuse for...anything. You joined in before to talk to Kirishima, not him, and that’s the way things are supposed to be.

So he has no idea what possesses him to remark, a touch snidely but not as sharply as he wanted it to be, “Who the fuck’s Takeo-kun?”

(He doesn’t care. He shouldn’t be asking. Dammit.)

Oh. You look serene as you slip your phone back into your bag. My boyfriend. He doesn’t go to U.A.

Boyfriend?

Katsuki wonders what kind of bastard would willingly date you- you with your glassy eyes and infuriatingly mild manners and habit of smiling at everything in that overly nice way that looks like a facade. He tries to imagine it. Holding hands with you. Walking with you.

...which he’s already doing. Fuck it. Now he feels sick and the headache’s coming back; he really didn’t have to imagine you in a romantic context. The mental images are banished in an instant but they’re still there in the back of his head and it makes him want to punch something.

But you turn your smile to him.

So, do you have any idea what to do about Present Mic’s homework? I’m assuming you know more about it than I do.

____

He does end up walking home with you, talking about homework, which is fine, impersonal enough that he can still scowl at you, important enough that he can momentarily forget about the mental images from earlier. Good. If he has to walk with you, then this is how it should be.

And the conversation goes unfortunately smoothly. This close, his eyes keep straying to your crumpled shirt collar. Most of the stuff you bring up is relevant to lessons. He talks quickly, furiously, meticulously quoting details so you remember exactly how far ahead of you he is in all of this, so that you acknowledge defeat, something you still haven’t done since that first sparring session.

But you just nod along.

At the crossroads, you turn to the left again, offering a parting nod of the head.

Katsuki can’t help it. “Off on a damn date or something?’

(And it’s not an unreasonable assumption to make. You were calling your boyfriend minutes ago, and this isn’t your usual route home. Maybe you actually meant to meet this Takeo bastard that last time with Kirishima, too.

If the thought makes Katsuki feel sick again, that’s probably just the very idea of you in a romantic context.)

You tilt your head a little. I am, actually. Thanks for keeping me company on the way.

And with a gesture of farewell, you turn down the fork in the road. Walking away.

Katsuki grits his teeth.

“Hey!”

You stop momentarily. He inhales, and the words come tumbling out.

“Don’t just assume that we’re close now because I beat you a few times, asshole- I wouldn’t have ever walked with you if not for hair-for-brains! We’re not fucking friends!”

Silence. He’s breathing a little heavily. You stare back at him, the stillness in your eyes unbroken.

Then you smile faintly.

Something about it is reminiscent of that time after the sparring match- the telltale twitch at the corners of your mouth.

“We don’t have to be, you know.”

____

At home that afternoon, he absentmindedly reaches into his pocket. The handkerchief is still there.

He’s no longer sure how angry that makes him.

#BNHA #Bakugou Katsuki #Bakugou Katsuki x reader #Katsuki x reader #Bakugou x reader #Bakugou x you #Katsuki Bakugou x reader #BNHA reader insert #series #gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader insert #Mod Eve #phew this was long #(er than I intended)

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sincerelyreidburke · 3 years

Note

17 for bencole

“Wow, Mel, this is soooooooo late!” First: I know. Second: I’m profusely sorry. My semester was awful, and I have outstanding sappy prompts. This is the first of me finally finishing them off. Also, here’s the list, and if you want to request one no matter when you’re reading this, I will fill it!

Anyway. I’m so sorry. Both for my lateness, and for what I’m about to do to you. This isn’t really angst so much as it’s hurt/comfort, but I’m just warning you: Cole is in a bad place. There’s nothing more serious than depressive language, but it’s definitely hard to write him being so sad.

Read at your own risk, depending on how much you want to see Sad Cole Kolinsky!

17. “Because I love you.”

four years after graduation | november

It’s getting dark again.

Cole hates this time of year. If he had the energy for it, he would honestly be down to personally fight the inventor of daylight savings. He really doesn’t understand the reason for setting the clocks back, and causing sunset to take place at 4 PM. Cole is pretty sure the only thing ever accomplished by daylight savings in the history of ever is making people feel dark, gray, and gloomy.

Case in point: out the apartment window, the sky is quickly and steadily darkening over a wintry Providence skyline. He hates how you can be facing away from a window in the winter, lose track of time, and turn around to find it’s pitch black out there. The city lights give him a little glow, cast across the floor of his studio, but that glimmer of light doesn’t stand a chance against the overwhelming night.

What time is it? Cole has no idea. He’s been on the floor in the studio for a couple of hours, at least, working away at the bridge of a song he’s been trying to finish for the past three days to no avail. He hasn’t eaten since breakfast, but he isn’t hungry. His guitar has been in his lap so long that his legs, crossed beneath it, are starting to fall asleep. The sweatshirt he’s wearing— one of Ben’s, baggy on him the way he likes it— needs to be washed. He knows it needs to be washed, because it smells. He’s known this for at least a week. Putting it in the laundry is a small, stupid hill he can’t seem to climb, so he’s wearing a smelly sweatshirt. He hasn’t showered in two days.

The studio is dark. He’s been trying to work for hours, and hasn’t made any progress. It feels like every small task, right now, is that kind of hill.

He blinks into the dark, and leans forward on the rug for his phone, which is buried under a steadily growing layer of crumpled papers, broken pencils, and random trash. When he finds it, he turns it over to look at the time.

It’s 4:31 in the afternoon.

He looks, blankly, at his phone screen for a second, aware of some stacked notifications but not really reading them. It’s been a couple of hours since he even unlocked it. The glow of the screen, bright in the dark studio, hurts his head a little, and when it auto-sleeps, he sets his phone back down and exhales.

4:31, and the only thing he wants to do is go to bed.

And, honestly, what’s stopping him from that? Because bed is one room over, and if he just gets under the covers, he won’t have to think about how impossible it’s been to finish this bridge, or how behind he is on literally all of his music work, or how he has a shift tomorrow at the café, which, no matter how soul-sucking, is real work, and will be, until he makes something of himself, which is probably never going to happen, because he’s worthless and useless and can’t even write a bridge when he has a completely free Friday afternoon with nothing else to do—

Or, come to think of it, the dark. Most of all the dark. Because when the world is dark for so much of the day, it leaves a free place for Cole’s own darkness to occupy in his mind. It makes everything worse. It always has.

If he gets in bed, hides under the covers, he doesn’t have to think about any of that.

So that’s what he’ll do, he decides. That’s all he has the energy to do. It’s not like he has anything to do for the rest of the day anyway. Ben will be home from work in half an hour or so, but Ben won’t mind if he’s asleep.

It’ll just be easier. He doesn’t want to be alone in the dark with his thoughts anymore.

It’s getting dark again.

Ben is over it already, honestly. Summer is his favorite season, for a variety of reasons, and pretty much the only things that make winter tolerable are hockey (a significant benefit) and the holiday season (sort of). He hates daylight savings, because it’s so dark when he leaves work it might as well be eight PM. Today is no exception; he leaves his office building to a black city sky and a certifiably nasty winter wind. There might be snow coming, which would be a hate crime, since it isn’t even Thanksgiving yet.

At least it’s Friday. He catches a good stretch of music on the radio during his short ride home, and he’s still nodding to the beat on the elevator ride up to his floor in the apartment building. It’ll be a good night in; they can order from that good pizza place down the block, and maybe watch a movie. Cole has to work tomorrow, but it’s an afternoon shift. They have the next twenty or so hours all to themselves.

Ben is looking forward to it.

“I’m home, Coley!” he sings, as he pushes open the apartment door. There aren’t any lights on when he walks in. This isn’t concerning, until it is— because Cole doesn’t really hang out in the kitchen, but a quick glance tells him that the lights aren’t on in his studio, either. The door is open, and it’s dark behind it.

It’s like there’s no one home at all.

“Babe?” He flicks on the main kitchen light, as he shuts the door behind himself. There’s no response. Ben hesitates, just a second, as he hangs his jacket and keys, and then adds, “You in here?”

Which is a stupid question, because Cole has to be in here somewhere. He doesn’t drive, and even past that, isn’t the kind of person to randomly go out without saying where he’s going. Ben knows he’ll find him, somewhere in the apartment— he just doesn’t know where, or in what headspace, he might find him.

He can’t help but get just a little nervous, when he comes home to a dark apartment.

Because nine months into this relationship, Ben knows what dark means. Cole shuts lights off, habitually, when he’s in a bad place. He blocks out the light on purpose, like it’ll hurt him if he sees too much of it. Ben has come home to this before. And he knows, on top of everything, that the onset of winter doesn’t do anything good for Cole’s mental health.

So he treads carefully, across the kitchen, and speaks gently as he goes. “Cole?” He peeks into the studio, and flicks on the light. Cole isn’t in here— but evidence of him is. His working area is a disaster scene, with his guitar left on the ground, surrounded by writing utensils, crumpled notebook pages, and trash. His phone is in here, too, near his guitar.

It’s… a mess. But messes can be cleaned up. What’s worse than it being messy is the fact that it’s a clear sign of Cole being unwell.

Ben steps back from the studio, and glances down the hall. Their bedroom is the last room, and its doorway is just as dark as any other door in the apartment. He tries to be quiet, as he walks there, and when he glances inside, finds his hunch was accurate— Cole is a lump under the covers, on the far side of the bed.

“Cole?” he tries, again, but keeps his voice low. If he’s asleep, he doesn’t want to wake him up. At least not right this second. “I’m home, baby.”

The lump doesn’t move.

Ben hesitates, a second, as he hangs on the doorway. Cole is obviously asleep— his body, huddled almost completely under the comforter except for the hood of his sweatshirt and top of his head, is rising and falling, steady breathing. The problem isn’t exactly that he’s sleeping, but that he’s sleeping in the dark at 5:15 PM. That fact, combined with his mess in the studio, can only mean one thing.

Cole didn’t have a good day today.

It pains Ben to think of what must have led to this— because he knows this boy, knows him well enough to understand these signs, knows his brain never takes it easy on him, least of all on days when it gets dark in the middle of the afternoon. He must have been in the studio, at some point— that’s what he said he was doing today, when Ben left for work this morning. Last he saw him, he was sitting on the counter, eating Trix out of a mug, and he said, I really have to finish that bridge today.

That’s a good idea, babe, he’d replied, putting the lid on his travel mug of coffee. You’ll have to play it for me, when I get home.

Cole had smiled— thinly, like it took a lot of energy, but still, he smiled. I will, if I finish.

Ben doesn’t know what filled the hours between his leaving for work and right now. But he knows Cole wound up here, instead of in the studio— where he would be, if it’d gone well— and that that can’t mean much good.

But he can’t change any of that. What he can do is try to make the rest of the night better for him. And if nothing else, that is something he knows how to do.

So he turns on the lamp on their bedside table, the lowest light in the bedroom, and lets him sleep, as he changes out of his work clothes and into sweats. He turns other lights on as he backtracks through the apartment— the hall light, the dimmer in the living room, the fixture over the kitchen island. Each makes the place feel a little warmer, a better place to be on a cold, wintry, maybe snowy night. He looks into the fridge, then the freezer.

Yeah, screw ordering. He’ll make pizza, tonight. He’ll do Cole’s favorite— barbecue chicken, green peppers. He has enough in the fridge, and something home-cooked could probably do him some good.

It takes ten minutes to roll out the dough, another ten to do the toppings. He preheats the oven, and while he waits, he cleans up the trash in the studio. He zips Cole’s beloved guitar back into its case, and brings out his phone, leaves it on the charger in the kitchen. He doesn’t really want to throw away any of the notebook pages, just in case Cole decides, later, in a songwriting frenzy, that something he crumpled up previously might be important. So he leaves those, flattens them all and puts them into a pile on the studio desk. When he’s satisfied, he shuts the studio light off, and closes the door as he leaves it.

Next, he grabs a fresh change of clothes for Cole from the dresser, and sets them on the sink in the bathroom with a clean towel. He highly doubts that Cole showered today, and he hasn’t seen evidence of him doing so in at least a few days. Cole won’t like that, but it’ll do him some good.

He’s back in the kitchen, taking the pizza out of the oven, when he gets company. He doesn’t notice, at first— Cole is in socked feet, and moves quietly, so much so that Ben starts a little when he turns and sees him coming in. “Hey,” he breathes, keeping his voice mostly quiet, as he sets down the pizza stone on a potholder to cool. “How was your nap, babe?”

Cole stops a few feet from the island. Head to toe, he looks so hollow and tired that it hurts Ben’s heart a little. He still has the hood of his sweatshirt— well, Ben’s own sweatshirt originally, but basically it’s Cole’s now— pulled up over his head, the way he slept, and his hair, longer than usual, hasn’t been brushed in awhile. He’s squinting, not wearing his glasses, and he rubs one of his eyes over and over.

When he speaks, he only has half a voice. “Hi.”

Ben walks to him. For some reason, he feels like he has to hold him up, to keep him steady on his feet. He takes him by his elbows, and Cole falls into his embrace— he’s dead weight, and he exhales, presses his head into his chest. He’s a little shaky. Ben would wonder if he caught a cold, but knows better. He knows this. This is a different kind of sick.

“Hey,” he says again, and squeezes him tight around the waist. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Cole is still shaky, in his arms. He doesn’t speak for a minute, so Ben holds on tight. Cole smells like his clothes haven’t been washed in too long, and his hair is greasy.

“I didn’t—” comes Cole’s voice, small and unsteady, from his head pressed into his chest. “I didn’t get anything done today.”

“That’s okay, babe.” Ben knows his assurance in this category won’t really do much, because Cole is so, so hard on himself when it comes to creative productivity— but the least he can do is try. “You don’t have to get things done every single day.”

Cole groans, and shakes his head. “I had the whole day,” he says, and Ben doesn’t realize until right then that he’s crying. His voice breaks on the end of his sentence, and he sniffles. “I had the whole day,” he repeats.

“Hey— baby.” Ben tugs, very gently, at the hood of his sweatshirt, and eases him up so he can look him in the eye. His eyes are glassy, and he has a pillowcase imprint on his cheek. Ben wipes at a wet spot on his cheek. “That’s okay,” he says. “The writing isn’t important if you’re not okay.”

Cole sniffles again, and his eyes well up further. “Hey,” Ben whispers; his stomach turns at the sight. He pulls him close to hug him again, and pressed close against him, Cole cries a little more openly. “Don’t cry, baby. I’ve got you. I’m home now.”

“I’m so—” Cole stops, to sniffle, before he continues, “I feel so useless.”

“You aren’t useless,” Ben tries. He tightens his grip. He knows he’s the only thing keeping him steady. “It’s a tough time of year.”

Cole groans again, and then nods, and for a minute, they’re quiet. They stand in the middle of the kitchen, and Cole sniffles a few more times against his chest, and to take this away from him is the only thing Ben wants to do.

He can’t do that. But he can do what he can. He can try.

“I made dinner,” he says. “And I took out clean clothes— you should shower, babe.” Cole grumbles a little in protest, so he adds, “I know you don’t want to, but you should. You’ll feel better.”

“I don’t have the energy to shower,” Cole whispers, a little less tearily but just as weakly.

“I can—” Ben bites back his first response, because he doesn’t want to give the wrong impression. “If you want,” he rephrases, gently, “I can help you.”

Cole is quiet, and then lets off a long exhale. When he looks up, his eyes are still full, but he tips forward to rest his forehead against his, and reaches around the back of his head. Ben knows what he’s doing before he does it— he pulls at his elastic, and takes down his hair. When it’s out of the bun, Cole threads his fingers in it, like he’s holding on for dear life. It doesn’t really hurt, but it’s tight.

“Why,” Cole mumbles, and then swallows. He sounds like he’s fighting to keep his voice steady, to keep more tears from coming. “Why are you being so patient with me.”

It’s a question that isn’t phrased like one. Ben knows the answer, would always know the answer. “Because I love you,” he replies, without waiting. “And I would do anything to help you feel better. Even if it’s only a little at a time.”

Cole sniffles again, and Ben can see the exact moment he loses his fight against the tears. When they fall, Ben wipes them away with his sleeve.

“I’m sor—” Cole starts, but he cuts him off.

“No,” he says. “You never— look at me. You never have to be sorry, baby.”

Cole sniffles, again. His voice is strained, but he murmurs, “I love you,” and Ben doesn’t want to do a single other thing in the world tonight but be here. And hold him. And keep letting the light in.

“I’m right here, babe,” he tells him. “Okay? You can shower while the pizza cools.”

Cole takes a long breath, a shaky one, but his exhale is steadier than the inhale. It’s a good sign. It’s progress. It’s something.

They’ll take the night in steps, and go from there.

“Okay,” Cole says, finally, and he wipes his own face with the sleeve of the oversized sweatshirt. He nods, and repeats himself. “Okay.”

Ben reaches down, and takes his hand. When he squeezes, Cole’s squeeze back is tight. “Good,” he says, and tips his head toward the bathroom. “Come with me, baby.”

Out the window on his way by, Ben notices it’s snowing. It’s early, for sure, for that to happen. But the apartment is warm, and they have each other, and they don’t have anywhere to be.

It’ll be a long winter. But Ben is going to get them both through it.

Because through good and bad, dark and light, through any season, he has Cole— and he’s never letting go.

#ben/cole #sappy prompts #ficlet #my writing #kiersey college #rhode island headass #actually he's cole #mel writes

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thecandywrites · 4 years

Text

Jewel Of The North Part 5

Woo, it finally happened, the do is at the end of the chapter. Again, a thousand thanks to @monstersandmaw for sharing ice orcs with me. I’m having way too much fun.

Jewel Of The North

Part 5

You were walking towards the barn, feeling the slight burn of the sun on your skin as you watched Noah bend over to trim your horse's feet, his ferrier tools in the stand around him. His shirt was dirty and sweaty and hugging his muscles beautifully and the chilled lemonade in your hand didn’t compare to the fire of lust and love and adoration in your heart and mind as you waited until he was done with that particular hoof and stood up and righted himself to approach closer.

“Thirsty?” You offered the lemonade to him before he grinned giddily as he got it and happily gulped it down and you watched the apple in his throat bob with the motion.

“You need another or did that quench your thirst?” You asked once he had downed it.

“Almost.” He admitted before he pulled you to him and kissed you deeply. You could taste the sweet lemon and sugar from the lemonade and just a hint of the pulled pork from lunch.

And of course the kiss progressed and you suddenly transported to your bathroom where he was pinning you against the wall so he could pound into you as the hot water sprayed all around you and to feel the heat of his body wrapped around your own and practically pulsing inside you as he was stretching you to the max and grounding you yet making you feel lighter than air as his mouth was on your own, swallowing your whimpering cries of ecstasy was pure euphoria and no sooner had you cum in the shower before you were rolling around in the silken sheets of your bed, trying all kinds of positions.

“How close are you?” Noah rumbled as you could tell he was getting so excruciatingly close himself.

“I already came in the shower, it’s your turn Babe.” You cooed.

“Nope, wrong answer.” Noah teased before he pulled out and left you trying to grab him to pull him back before he attached his mouth to your sex and promptly devoured you before you were pushed to the edge.

“There you are, now, let’s try to do this together,” Noah encouraged before he settled himself back into you and started to really stroke himself into you instead of the heavy pounding and good god, it was the best sex of your life and together you reached your climaxes as you both tightly held the other, wrapped up in comfort and warmth and each other as the rest of the world faded away, leaving the two of you in peace and happiness. Then the blare of the alarm...

You woke up the next morning, your underwear soaked in your essence and got a quick shower and got dressed before you called your kids.

“Good morning sleepyheads.” You cooed.

“Good morning.” you heard them both answer sleepily.

“Aww, did I wake you up too early? Before noon?” You teased as you got your shoes on.

“Yes.” They answered.

“It’s summer vacation, it’s still am so it’s morning.” Xander grumped.

“Oh it’s only 10 am there, that’s still sleeping in plenty.” You gently argued.

“Which means it’s seven there, you’re on vacation, why would you get up so early on vacation?” Skylar complained.

“Because I’m going fishing today, with Noah and Sakura but we’re going to really be in the middle of nowhere because he’s taking me to tribal lands where there are no cell towers for miles so you won’t be able to get a hold of me and so this was my chance to check in today.”

“Is this the same Noah that flew you in?” Xander questioned.

“Yup, the same Noah I spent all day Tuesday watching his daughter who I would adopt and take home with me in a heartbeat if I could.” You confessed.

“The one who lost her mom?” Skylar remembered.

“Yup, the very one. She’s the one that’s in the same boat you’re in.” You confirmed.

“Because her mom died and left her all the land that she got the same way you got your estates.” Xander recalled.

“Yup and because I have a lot of first hand experience with that kind of thing. I’m gonna try to help her and her dad deal with it. At least better than I did in the beginning.” You revealed.

“Cool.” Xander chirped.

“So do you like Noah? Is that why you’re spending the day with them?” Skylar asked curiously.

“I do like him. Noah is...well...he’s awesome. He has been nothing but respectful and perfectly pleasant and professional as a pilot and a friend and I can see why he’s friends with everyone up here because he’s a good friend to have.” You answered.

“No like, like him like him, like romantically.” Skylar specified as you heard Xander go ‘oh gods’ in a groan in the background.

“I’ll be honest. Yes. But I think it’s one sided, because he has been friendly but he hasn’t really been flirty or anything. But I haven’t been super flirty to begin with.”

“Good!” Xander boomed.

“Hey, as I recall, I believe both of you were ok with me moving on romantically since your dad died and you two were the ones that set me up on that date with Alex.” You countered with a frown.

“Which was a disaster.” Skylar remembered.

“True.” Xander conceded.

“But Noah is a bush pilot in the Arctic Tundra, that’s one of hell of a niche Mom and he can’t do that in too many other places, he’s an ice orc which is a tribe that originated up there and rarely move away. I mean it’s an awesome job and sounds kick ass, and I’ll bet it’s gorgeous up there but from what you’ve told us about him, I don’t think he’s gonna give all that up. And you have it too good right where you are and you shouldn’t move either. Just leave it as friends Mom.” Xander pleaded with you and you hated to admit it but he was right and had very good points. Xander had inherited all the sensibleness from Andy.

“I know, you’re right.” You conceded even though your heart and soul were throwing tantrums within you and clinging to your fantasies for dear life.

“But you should still enjoy your time up there mom. Maybe we can come up and see everyone some time when we’re all together.” Skylar offered sweetly just as the first few tears started to fall as you nodded in agreement. Grateful they couldn’t see you.

“Yup, there’s a really nice hunting and fishing resort up here, maybe we can come back here and stay there.” You offered as you discretely wiped the tears from your eyes and willed yourself not to cry any more. Feeling like a teenager with your first soul crushing crush.

“I’ll try to call you guys later ok? Be good for Mimi and PawPaw and Granny and Papa ok?” You urged them. “Love you lots, bye.” You bid them.

“Love you too Mom, bye.” They echoed.

You found your composure and finished packing your things up that you felt you would need today. Extra sets of clothes and layers just in case you fell into the water or the temperature decided to vary greatly, your emergency spices just in case you cooked whatever you caught. Snacks just in case you didn’t catch anything. An emergency kit just in case anyone gashed their hand open and needed medical attention. A few handheld games for Sakura to keep her quiet just in case she wasn’t fond of fishing and battery packs for your devices along with a few other essentials. You were determined to have a great day fishing with Noah and Sakura and prayed that you would have a good day nonetheless and to have peace in your heart so you could enjoy the moments today and commit them to memory.

When you were done you walked the now familiar route to Noah’s house, hoping you weren’t coming too early and no sooner had you stepped foot on the porch when the door opened to reveal Noah with a bed head worthy of a few more fantasies and a bright happy smile that shamed the sun that had you mirroring it as the dogs rushed past him to greet you excitedly too before they left to do their business.

“Good morning, hope I’m not too early.” You greeted bashfully.

“Nope, just woke up, wanted to make sure I didn’t sleep in and miss you.” Noah reassured you as he ushered you inside before you set down your stuff by the door before you went to the kitchen together to get coffee and breakfast ready as the two of you easily fell back into a routine, that while it was new, it was somehow so familiar and comfortable and second nature to you both and it was while you were scrambling eggs that you noticed Noah give you a look you didn’t quite know how to read. It wasn’t bad but it filled you with...you didn’t know what, excitement? Curiosity? Giddiness? What?!

“What?” You asked over your shoulder.

“Um, I was just thinking…”

“About?” You prodded.

“About…” Noah took a deep breath and looked particularly nervous all of a sudden as he started to wipe his hands off on a rag from mixing together pancake batter.

“I wanted…” Noah began before his thunder cat rubbed against your leg before it started to climb you like a tree again.

“Ah, Baby, I’m cooking, I can’t have you on my shoulders right now, your hair will get in the food.” You cooed to the cat before Noah came over and got the cat off your shoulder before the cat tried to use it’s sharp claws to dig into your clothes and howled in protest. “Sorry, he really likes you.” Noah confessed as the two of you worked on getting the cat’s claws out of your clothes and once successfully detached he went to the back sliding doors and put the cat out and shut the door so it wouldn’t interrupt further.

“So you were saying you were thinking about what again?” You prompted once he was done.

“Right, um, so, uh, I wanted you to meet the rest of my family.” Noah finally blurted as there was a hint of fear in his eyes which gave you just a moment of pause.

“Oh, to discuss Sakura’s inheritance? Do you want to make sure they’re all comfortable with me being involved in any of it?” You supplied since that was the only reasonable, non romantic reason you could think of for meeting them. Trying to stamp down your hopes that he wanted you to meet his family for any other reason.

“Yeah, sure,” Noah confirmed with a nod as his shoulders sagged in defeat just a little.

“Ok, cool, when?” You asked.

“Well, today my Mom was going to be calling everyone to see what times would work best for everyone while we went fishing.” Noah informed you.

“Oh, well I’m free the rest of the week, so I’m free whenever. If it would help I can provide references, like my analyst and my own lawyers or even see if they can suggest anyone to use up here.” You suggested.

“Only if you wanted to.” Noah answered you could see he was trying to cover up his disappointment. Was he disappointed with you? Is that not what he was asking or wanting from you?

Meanwhile- Noah was internally and existentially screaming and screeching into the void and cursing himself for being so chicken shit to not say what he really wanted. He was such a coward and he was so epically and historically bad with words. All he wanted was you. He wanted to be with you. He wanted to court you or even fight for the chance just to try. He was so hopelessly in love with you it wasn’t funny and if he had one more sex dream about you, his nuts were going to explode along with his head. He wanted to pick you up and sit you up on his counter and feast on you for breakfast before Sakura would wake up. This was his one shot to confess his feelings and he was blowing it and he couldn’t stop it. Like being in a river that’s way too strong and carrying him away from shore and he was doing everything in his power to fight against it but the stronger he struggled, the stronger the current and he couldn’t get traction and he was running out of time and he was missing his chance on happiness and his happily ever after with you damn it.

But then you were sniffing the air and turning to take the eggs out of the pan before they burned and his moment was gone. He wondered if you would freak out if he just came up behind you and hugged you and started kissing you, would that be inappropriate? How would you react? Would you like that? Be put off and leave? Freak out? Turn and kiss him back hopefully? Grind your ass into his manhood? He could dream.

Then he heard a giggle. Damn it, Sakura was up and his chance to have you all alone to himself was over.

“Good morning Pumpkin.” You cooed when you heard the giggle and looked over at the stairs to see Sakura spying on you from them.

“Good morning Paradise.” She answered before she came all the way down the stairs.

“How long have you been up there spying huh?” You asked as you came over to her and hugged her tight.

“Since Angry Pants climbed you.” Sakura answered and suddenly Noah was wondering if his instincts just knew it wasn’t the right time. Dang it. Well the day was young, he would hopefully have another chance some time today. Or at least that was what he was going to be praying for.

“I see, well let's get you some juice and breakfast, we have an awesome day ahead of us and we need to have food as fuel for it.” You urged her as you got her some eggs to start eating and some juice as Noah went about pouring the pancake batter in the other pan to make the pancakes before you went back to the stove to work on the bacon and the sausage before you would make Noah’s eggs and your eggs and stood side by side in front of his stove as you wanted nothing more than to have him put his arm around you. Around your shoulders, your waist, you didn’t care. But something, you were craving his touch and his closeness even though Xander’s words tortured you from the back of your mind. What if this was a fantasy escape for you? What if it was nothing more? No, your heart assured you that was not the case. What if all he wanted was just help with his daughter and nothing else from you? Perhaps that was what you feared most right now. Because you were ready to offer yourself and everything you had up to him and what if he didn’t want you romantically? You would have to learn how to be content with a platonic relationship with him but you did get close enough that your arms were touching and you could feel the heat roll off of him and the stove and you just wanted to cuddle into his side.

And then you felt it, his hand splayed comfortingly on your back and if you could have sprouted wings and hugged him with them you would have, before the hand went to your far shoulder and suddenly he was resting his arm over your shoulders and you took that as a sign that snaking your own arm around his waist was an ok move as you both leaned into the side of the other. And you were afraid to look but the happy contented smile on your face as mentally you were going ‘fuck it, I want to be happy and close to him right now’.

All that mattered was right now and right now your brain was swimming in endorphins from just this little touch. It was heaven. Maybe he didn’t mean it to be as intimate as you felt it was but you didn’t care. You were just...happy. So happy right now. You haven’t been this happy in...a very long time and in your wildest dreams, you would find a way to make this work. Maybe he isn’t great with words? Maybe he’s showing you through his actions how he feels? Maybe.

You did everything in your power to stay right where you were because you didn’t want to move, you didn’t want to break the bubble you were in because in your heart you wanted this moment to last forever. But once all the eggs were fried and all the bacon and sausage and potatoes and onions and pancakes were cooked you both begrudgingly parted to take the food to the table to eat but sat kitty corner from each other at the small table and if he had reached out to hold your hand you would have held it but he was using both of his hands to eat his breakfast but Sakura was just happy to jabber on about all the different kinds of fish you could catch today as you gave Noah a fond smile as you just let her tell you all about fish. You could listen to her talk for hours on end about anything she was passionate about.

Once breakfast was done, you quickly did the dishes while Noah and Sakura got ready and packed up for your ‘adventure’ and once packed up, you let the horses out in the pasture and taken care of for the day before you loaded up his truck as the dogs jumped into the bed of the truck to watch the stuff since they were coming too and made a quick stop at a little outpost/ grocery store to get supplies like bait and beer since you had already packed a bunch of snacks and drinks for Sakura at home from what you had bought the other day. But this place had local moose jerky and homemade doughnuts that you needed in your life ASAP.

“Hey Noah,” a guy greeted him as you were around the corner letting Sakura pick out whatever her heart desired.

“Hey Tim.” Noah greeted back before they shook hands.

“Have you heard anything from Derek or Evan or anyone from their gang?” Tim asked him.

“Nope, picked up their loads yesterday though cause no one could get a hold of them.” Noah answered as you made sure to stay out of sight.

“Well I finally talked to them today and turns out they went drinking with some super hot Moscow Doll. They must have partied pretty hard because they’re still wasted as of about half an hour ago and can’t hardly move even now. They actually pissed and shit themselves because they couldn’t get up to go to the bathroom.”

You did your best to hide your erupting snicker under Noah’s who snickered and laughed at their misfortune.

“Gross, well I don’t know what you could have expected, they’re young and stupid and stupid is as stupid does I guess.” Noah shrugged.

“True.” Tim nodded. “So what are you up to today?” Tim changed the subject.

“Taking Sakura and our new friend Zara fishing.” Noah answered, feeling bad to call you ‘a friend’ because if he had been brave earlier he could have asked you out and he could be introducing you as his girlfriend.

But alas, chicken shit was he.

“Oh,” Tim blinked but smiled wide as you seemed to take that cue and appear from the other aisle.

“I heard my name.” You announced.

“Zara, this is my friend Tim Baker.” Noah introduced.

“Zara Kingsley, pleasure to meet you.” You greeted sweetly as you shook his hand, kind of grateful you weren’t wearing any makeup or anything and dressed down and hopefully neither Tim or Noah would make the connection that you were that Moscow Doll. Which honestly was an awesome alias.

“Pleasure’s all mine.” He returned as he shook your hand firmly. “That’s a strong hand shake.” Time appraised, impressed.

“Sorry, day job, I’m an LMT, strong grip is in the job description.” You tried to laugh off.

“A what now?” He asked.

“LMT- it’s an acronym for licenced massage therapist, like EMT or CEO.” you supplied.

“Oh sweet, did you just move here?” He asked hopefully.

“Unfortunately no, just visiting this time. My home base is in the Great Lakes.” You answered before you got into your wallet and handed him a business card as he whistled at it.

“Wow, that’s the fanciest thing I’ve ever had in my hand.” Tim appraised which got you to chuckle.

“That’s not a nice comparison to Tammy, she’s plenty fancy.” Noah teased which got everyone but Sakura to laugh harder.

“I take it Tammy is the better half.” You assumed as you glanced down to see a thin gold band on Tim’s left hand.

“Nope, I’m the better half, I’m the best thing in her life.” Tim smoothed his hands down his front, stroking his beer gut affectionately as he smiled cheesily which got you to laugh even harder.

“Oh that poor woman.” You and Noah answered in unison as you both shook your head.

“Jinks!” You managed to get out first as Noah snapped his fingers in defeat but smiled happily nonetheless.

“Ha! I win, I get to buy the snacks and the beer.” You insisted as you pried the beer from Noah’s fingers and took Sakura to the checkout counter.

“Hurry before your Dad stops us!” You giggled to Sakura who took the opportunity to grab handfuls of candy from the display by the cash register to add to her ‘loot’.

“Just friends? Really?” Tim questioned a little disbelieving as he gave Noah a meaningful look but a knowing smile.

“She’s only been visiting in town since Sunday and I’m the one who flew her in.” Noah revealed, dropping his voice down to a low murmur.

“I see, well it seems she’s great with Sakura, she’s got strong mom vibes and she seemed like she a could be a local if you asked her to be.” Tim appraised.

“Well she is a mother, has two kids of her own back home.”

“And the dad?” Tim asked.

“Dead, she’s widowed.” Noah answered.

“Oh perfect, no asshole ex or visitation or anything like that to deal with, just what you needed, you’re practically made for each other.” Tim grinned mischievously as Noah gave him an unimpressed look. “Well stop yapping with me, take her fishing, take her to the Honeymoon spot or something, don’t be keeping a gem like her waiting.” Tim urged him as Tim noticed you had gotten your stuff and had left the store with Sakura in tow and you sure did look like a perfect fit for Noah and Sakura to him. You just exuded sweetheart and that’s what Noah needed in his opinion, and you were really pretty au naturale too. He could see there were sparks there and he would be praying that Noah would make a move before you would leave as Noah left the place and happily rejoined you in the truck and drove to the airstrip before the two of you loaded everything onto the plane as Sakura happily kept the dogs on board and got settled in herself and once it was all packed up, the three of you settled in and by now you had grown almost used to the feeling of taking off before Noah turned the plane north eastern and flew, you could see the snow capped mountains and pockets of lakes and streams and super intense greens from the wilderness splattered with pockets of civilization, and just the majesty of it all took your breath away and you prayed your brain was recording it so you could dream about this moment in the future. It was just perfect.

Noah flew the familiar route to the perfect spot, where it would just be the three of you for miles and miles around and hopefully the fishing would be good too.

And once it was in sight he pointed it out to you.

“That’s where we’re going.” He pointed to it as he got in position and descended and made sure to put the right landing gear down and touched down into the water before taxing himself around to the best spot in the lake where a few streams came in and out of the lake before he turned the plane off and lowered the back hatch/tailgate down to the right height so you could fish off of it before he got his camping chairs and practically set up his own dock on the tailgate complete with a cooler full of ice and beer and drinks and camp chairs and snacks and rods and reels and tackle and everything.

“Ooh, I like this, this is wonderful.” You praised as you sat down in the other camp chair that Noah set up just for you as Sakura was sitting in her kid’s camping chair.

“And the great thing about being in the water like this is the bugs aren’t as bad and you don’t have to worry about bears as much, moose can still swim out this far though but at least we can see stuff coming.” Sakura beamed happily as she got all her snacks and juice boxes and stuff set up around her as the dogs happily sat on the edge and looked out into the water and basked in the sun before Noah got all the fishing poles out and got them set up before he handed you one before you cast it out.

“Nice cast.” Noah praised.

“Thanks, my family are big fishers. We would go fishing all the time both in childhood and adulthood and we would go out and usually catch our limit. What is the limit by the way?” You asked.

“There isn’t one, we’re on Sungilak Tribal Lands and this whole area and for oh, probably a hundred miles in any direction is still our lands and we don’t have limits on fish or game or anything. So since you are a guest of the clan and have permission from two clan members, you don’t have any limits on anything you catch either and you don’t need any licenses or anything. Our permission and invitation is enough.” Noah reassured you as Sakura beamed proudly at you too.

“Aww, thanks.” You answered, feeling particularly touched by their gesture as you realized this was a great honor. For them to share their birthright like this was incredibly generous. You knew Noah was of humble means, and this was perhaps one of the few things he could share with you and it was incredibly precious.

“Can I get a few pictures of this?” You asked hopefully.

“Sure.” Noah nodded before you took pictures of Sakura sitting next to you in the chair with her little fishing pole, the line hanging off the edge in her sunglasses and snacks and dogs looking pretty as a picture before you got selfies of the two of you and the drop dead gorgeous scenery.

“Smile Noah.” You prompted as you got pictures of him actually fly fishing off the back of the tailgate before he flashed you a brilliant smile and you knew this picture you’d be treasuring for a lifetime.

“Can we have some music?” You asked hopefully.

“Uh, good luck getting a radio channel up here.” Noah replied.

“Not a problem, I have premium Spotify and dozens of playlists downloaded. What do you like to listen to?” You asked as you got your mini portable bluetooth speaker out of your bag and turned it on since it was freshly charged before you got your phone to connect with it and brought up the app.

“Don’t care, listen to whatever you want.” Noah obliged.

“Ok, everyone’s favorite classics- it is.” You decided before you had the phone shuffle on the playlist.

“Ooh,” Noah oohed when a very familiar favorite started to play. Ok, you were officially perfect in his book. Perfect music tastes, perfect cooking skills, perfect mother figure to Sakura, perfect...everything. You were generous and charming without being fake or insincere, you were beautiful and confident and independent and loving and supportive and protective and incredibly intelligent and naturally sweet natured but had enough gumption to not put up with bullshit. You weren’t a doormat and he could only admire and adore all of it. You had every reason to feel like the hottest shit ever but you were humble enough to be unassuming and discrete but there wasn’t a part of you he wasn’t impressed with.

Then the fish started to bite and that’s when the day went from good to great. And what was even better, is because of the cold storage compartment of the plane which was like a walk in freezer/cooler but on an plane with several bins inside to keep things separanted, Noah had the good sense to clean out and line the biggest one with a giant tarp, all you had to do was load the fish into it and they would stay cold until you got home. Very convenient.

“Could you teach me how to fly fish?” You asked as he seemed to be getting better fish and more of them fly fishing than you did.

“Of course.” Noah immediately agreed before he had you use his rod and reel and showed you how it was done and you were over the moon when he wrapped himself around you to do it. His hands over yours to show you where to grip the rod and to feel the warmth radiate off of him and even though it was already comfortable weather wise, with him so close you practically melted having him so close, with his front pressed comfortably to your back and his head and over your shoulder. You wanted to lay your head back and rest it against his chest and just to have him hold you.

Meanwhile Noah felt that this was his opportunity that he had been silently praying for all morning, if he didn’t take the leap now, he was going to regret it. You were here, you were practically in his arms and every instinct was screaming at him to offer himself to you. It was now or never. So it had to be now.

“I didn’t originally want you to meet my family tomorrow as an advisor. It’s not that I don’t want your help with Sakura and her inheritance, because I do, we need it, desperately. But, I really really like you and I want to court you regardless and I wanted you to meet them as my girlfriend rather than advisor.” Noah finally confessed as he just stared longingly at your hair in a ponytail, appreciating all the hues and strands of color in your hair, fantasizing about how soft it would be through his fingers as not looking at your gorgeous face was somehow easier than if he was looking into the very eyes that tortured him when he wasn’t looking at them or the face that lit up his world.

“I know you have your life in the Great Lakes and I don’t want you to give that up and I am never going to ask for you to give that up. And I know looking at the way things are now, it doesn’t seem like we have much of a future and I’ve been afraid to ask you cause I don’t know how this could work. But I want to try to work it out anyway.” Noah confessed as you slowly turned around to look at him. Afraid that you were dreaming or had fainted and were hallucinating.

And you saw hope and fear in his eyes as he bit his lips to force himself not to speak anymore and wait for your answer, it was the same look he had this morning as you felt a little vindication that he did try to ask you this morning but lost his nerve and your heart soared that he obviously felt the same way you did and that it wasn’t all in your head, this was real, he was really asking you out and he really cared for you enough to ask at least as you smiled up adoringly and gratefully at him.

“Sakura,” you called.

“Yeah?” She immediately got up and came over.

“Did you hear your Daddy?” You asked her, just to make sure you didn’t imagine it.

“Yup, I want you to be my Mama too.” She added brightly and you couldn’t help it, you started crying but your smile was brighter than any star.

“I want to be your Mama too Sweetie, more than anything.” You reassured her as you turned out of Noah’s frame and hugged her tight.

“Yes, my answer is a resounding yes.” You finally answered Noah before you pulled him down to your height to kiss him soundly as his arms wrapped tightly around you, the fishing pole long since been put down and practically forgotten as you felt in your soul that this was your last first kiss with him. And boy oh boy was it a good one. Full of love and hope and promise and tasted better than you could have imagined and definitely worth the wait. This wasn’t going to be a passing fling, nope. This was gonna be a forever thing, you could already tell. And you were finally, going to be happy- if only you could make Noah equally happy.

From there, things fell into place even more, you took tons of pictures of you and Noah together and you caught enough fish to fill that whole freezer compartment and thanks to a little on board galley on the plane, you were able to cook up fish for lunch and dinner and the dogs happily ate fish too and by the time it was evening you found yourself sitting on a huge cushion right on the back hatch with Noah sitting behind you with you cuddled into his lap as Sakura was securely nestled into yours and with the big blankets surrounding the three of you and the dogs cuddling over your legs, you were both comfortable and content and Noah must have kissed your temples and cheeks a thousand times as he sat with you. HIs wistful sigh music to your ears as you were sure your own was to his. Even though the day had spurtterd in the beggining, it sure did end perfectly in your book.

Only when the sun was finally setting for the final time did you pack it up. Sakura long since fallen asleep in your arms and with Noah’s help you were able to pack her up in her spot before you helped him get everything ready to go before he flew you to his home.

“So did you want to stay over tonight?” Noah asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah, if you’re sure you want me there, I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me.” You confirmed.

“Oh I’m as sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west,” Noah mirrored since his boner seemed to spring to life at the notion.

“Awesome, I’ll just get the rest of my stuff from Taylor’s house tomorrow, it’s already late but I packed enough that it should get me through the night and into tomorrow, easily. I packed enough clothes just in case I fell into the water, like twice.” You revealed.

“Are you like, always prepared for everything?” Noah asked, his tone light and almost teasing.

“Yes. Long before I was a mom, I was the mom friend. There’s very good reasons why my purse never weighs less than like 9 pounds. It’s because I keep everything in there. Coming up here, I packed two of everything just in case one of something got lost. But turns out the gods knew that there would be two families that would be benefiting from my visit and I couldn’t be happier about the second one.” You beamed.

“Yeah, not to sound weird or anything but since you brought it up, I’ve been praying for the last year and a half for the gods to help me find Sakura a mom and someone who could help us and Sakura has never taken to anyone the way she took to you. And well, I mean I adore you too because if you’ll recall the first time we met, I just stared like an idiot with my jaw on the floor because you are very easily the most beautiful woman I have ever met or known and I was really afraid to say anything after I found out you were an heiress because I didn’t want to make it seem that it was only after I learned that that I was attracted to you. And honestly watching you have a date with Doug was torture for me and I was terrified you were going to fall for…” Noah explained.

“Oh his “charms”,” You snickered a laugh before you pretended to gag.

“Ew, no. He was absolutely ridiculous. Sakura told me in the bathroom that night that his boys pushed her down and didn’t apologize and I was ready to rip his head off. And please don’t be freaked out either but when I hugged her for the first time, I instantly loved her, like the same feeling I had when I gave birth to Skylar and Xander and I got to hold them for the first time and you have that ‘there’s my baby, my most precious possession, I’m gonna love you and cherish you forever and i will kill anything that dares brings you harm’ kind of feeling. And hugging you for the first time felt like hugging home, but it just was one that I didn’t know yet so…” You confessed before you heard Noah sniffle.

“Really?” Noah asked.

“Is that weird?” You asked with a little bit of a grimace.

“Nope, I was praying for that, I was praying for the right woman to love Sakura like her own, and well, me for me, flaws and all.” Noah revealed.

“Well then we are both answered prayers for each other because I was praying for the same thing. Although I’ll warn you, my son Xander will be the hardest to deal with. He’s very practical and rational and unfortunately, very skeptical too. He loves to play chess and cards and do things like negotiate and debate. And he’s way smarter than he should be for his age. He’s the one that likes to have everything figured out and planned before he takes his first step. His room is immaculate and he’s getting into cooking and he actually measures every little thing and me and my ‘eyeball it and measure it with your soul’ kind of thing tend to clash a lot. He will stay up till midnight just doing research for fun. He is very much like his father. He breeds ball pythons for fun and he has all the genetics memorized by heart and he keeps the snake room spotless, all on his own without any nagging or anything like that from me.” You warned.

“Skylar will be eaiser but she’s very emotional and you just have to be really patient. She’s also either super quiet or super chatty, there is no inbetween. She will talk your ears off. Also she wants to bake cookies and cakes and pies. Every. Single. Day. And nothing has enough sparkles or glitter for her.”

“We’ll all find a way to get along, it’s gonna be ok.” He reassured you before he kissed the back of your hand sweetly.

You got back to his home and found a note from his mom. The family would be coming together on Sunday since that’s when most had the day off and that they would be coming to her house for a big family meal and invited you to bring a dish to share if you wanted to.

“What should I bring?” You asked Noah.

“Anything you want, but we got all day tomorrow to figure it out. Come on, let’s get her to bed, and us to bed.” He hinted as he took your hand and led you upstairs as Sakura lay knocked out over his shoulder as he carried her into the house and led you upstairs. He had waited all week to have you by his side physically and he didn’t want to waste another minute of your presence and once she was tucked into bed and her door shut he was on you and walking you towards his room.

And you’d be lying through your teeth if you were to try to deny you weren’t excited about this either. But Noah’s kiss and touch were unlike any other and you were greedily taking everything he could give you and trying to give back in kind and you just needed more...more kisses, more touches, more feel, more contact, more...everything and you don’t know how it happened or exactly when but somehow between him attaching his mouth to yours just outside of Sakura’s room, and him, reaching around you to open his own bedroom door, somehow most of your clothes had come off you as you felt the cool air hit your skin.

Your bra was unhooked in the back and your pants and underwear were already off and by the time he got you into the room and the door shut and thankfully locked, somehow your shirt and bra now disappeared as did all of his clothes except for his socks which he was trying to toe off just trying to get you to his bed since his weeping cock was pressed between the two of you.

Taylor had not been exaggerating. Noah was packing. You knew Ice Orcs were as big as orcs came. But damn. Biggest cock you would ever probably get the pleasure of handling and it was all yours, you could barely wrap your hand around your prize and Noah’s moan was equally delicious and Noah practically ripped the blankets off the bed trying to get into it but when you felt his legs hit the mattress, you pushed him back onto it, and sent him landing on his back with his lower legs hanging off the bed, he was surprised but thrilled all the same and when you nuzzled his heavy sack with your nose and then with the tip of your tongue, he was the one left grabbing the sheets in anticipation.

Neena was ok with receiving oral sex but she hated giving it because she just didn’t like the taste of precum, let alone cum and thought it was gross and always gagged the moment his cock touched the back third of her tongue. So to have you even hint at it was driving him wild and when your tongue licked from the back of his ball sack, through the two balls and to the base then, towards the tip, he was nearly undone. And then to have you kneel between his legs and start sucking him off, his eyes nearly rolled back too far but his answering strangled moan was all you could ever want in response. You knew he didn’t want to wake up his daughter but with just this bit of sucking his body, especially his thighs and stomach was almost shaking and twitching from fluttering so much. It must have been a while for him to receive this kind of pleasure and you were unbelievably pleased that you could give it to him and when you started to gently massage his scrotum and oh so gently scratch at it, he bucked his hips, sending the head of his cock to the back of your mouth before he pulled them back.

“Sorry.” He tried to apologize.

“Don’t apologize Baby, it’s ok, did Neena have a strong gag reflex?” You cooed as you detached your mouth from his length so you could talk to him but your hand stroked him lovingly.

“Uh, yeah,” Noah confirmed.

“Hmm, well I don’t.” You hinted and that was your only warning before you worked on sucking as much of him into your mouth and throat as you could and he pulled so hard on the sheets, they popped off the corners of the bed and the noise that fell from his throat was the best reaction you had gotten yet.

“Zara, please, please slow down or stop, I’m, I’m gonna cum. I can’t cum yet, you’re not, I haven’t pleased you yet.” He whimpered which warmed your heart that he was so concerned about your pleasure.

“Do you only have one round in you?” You posed as you pulled off but nuzzled the cock all the same, giving the blue cock that ended in a pink head some sweet kisses.

“N-no.” He answered.

“Then let me give you this one easy, next one you’ll have to try harder to earn it.” You cooed before you went back to it as your hands stroked up his thighs to his abdomen as he reached down and laced his fingers with yours to hold your hands as your head bobbed enthusiastically as his precum coated your mouth. This had to be the most delicious cock too. His precum was comforting and alluring and just a little zesty, like wildberries, more intense flavor but full what your body craved before you brought his hands up to your face so he could stroke your face which he did before his fingers finally settled into your hair as you wrapped your arms around his hips and shoved your hands between his fine ass and the bed and clawed your hands into his ass as Noah keened in bliss and arched his back off the bed as his fingers tangled in your hair before he got two good fistfuls of your hair and pulled your face closer as you did your best to suppress your own gag reflex as the head of his cock hit the back of your throat.

“Oh gods, oh gods, Zara, Baby, I can’t, I can’t hold on...” he panted desperately as his hips bucked and every other muscle in his body seemed to tense before one last slam and his cock erupted with seed that spilled down your throat as you swallowed around him, your lips suctioning around you just kept swallowing as he whimpered and keened and shuddered his release and he was left a sweaty mess as his body welcomed a few aftershocks as it basked in the afterglow as you made sure you swallowed down every drop of his precious seed before you slowly let it slide out as you pulled away and happily watched as his heavy cock fell to the bed under it’s own weight.

“Good?” You asked as you climbed up his body, kissing trail up him before you settled onto his chest.

“The best, I didn’t think...I didn’t know...it could be that good.” Noah praised having a hard time coming back to his senses. While part of him wondered how much experience you had had to get that good, he didn’t care, you were his now. And he was never going to let you go. That was the best blow job of his life, of the millenium. His mind was blown, his body was officially blessed by having you of all people do that to him.

“Now don’t fall asleep, you have me to please now.” You giggled as you traced a little pattern on his chest as he caught his breath.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he reassured you as he wrapped his strong arms around you and held you tight.

“I love you.” He cooed.

“I love you too.” You easily mirrored. And it felt like the most natural and easy thing to say. And completely truthful too before he cupped your cheek and pulled you further up to kiss him soundly.

“I didn’t kiss you Tuesday because that’s what I did with Neena, I kissed you…” He began.

“I know, same reason I called you Babe on Tuesday, it just felt right.” You reassured him.

“Exactly.” He grinned appreciatively.

“Now, my turn to treat you like the goddess you are.” You growled as he playfully nipped at your neck and ear as you giggled gleefully as he rolled you over and it was his turn to kiss you senseless and mark a trail down your luscious and plump body, making sure to worship all of his favorite curves, from your breasts to your belly which he just adored to your hips and his favorite curve, your mound. Perfectly crowned with curls and dripping in anticipation of him and he took a lot of satisfaction in knowing that he was responsible for this as he settled between your legs before he had you set your powerful thighs on his shoulders and delved in.

Nothing could have prepared himself for this. But you tasted better than anything ever had before. It was sweet and spicy and purely addictive as he delved in and slurped and gave his tongue the work out it had been craving for practically a week as his own hands now cradled your glorious ass to cant your center right where he wanted it and it was your turn to writhe between him and the sheets beneath you.

Andy, truthfully, was not a good lover. He loved and adored your blow jobs but returning the pleasure, he was hopeless. He didn’t know how to please you, because all of his sex education had come from porn and besides pounding his cock into you, he didn’t know what else to do to please you and never bothered to learn.

Noah though? Oh bless this man’s heart, body and soul. Because he was eating you out like you were a seven course feast and he had been starving for most of his life and when he added a finger and then two and found that oh so sweet g-spot and worked it like it was his mission in life and he had been put on this planet for the sole purpose of finding it and working it to perfection while his mouth circled around your clit and sucked hard- it was all over, your legs kicked out and your knees tried to snap shut around his head and clamped his ears to his head as your own hips bucked and your own cry of bliss and ecstasy practically bounced off the walls. This was the greatest oral sex you had ever had the pleasure of recieving. It was official, he was a sex god.

For once you didn’t feel like you were wasting yourself or your gifts on someone. He was deserving, he was worthy. He was amazing and epic and wonderful and you loved and adored him.

“You still here?” Noah teased as he licked his lips as his self satisfied smile beamed up from between your legs. He still had it and he could give you the best gift possible and there was no one more deserving of that- than you, and he did his best and he was happy that you were well pleased with him and his efforts.

“Oh my gods, that was, epic, amazing, perfect. Like I’m trying to keep my soul in my body.” You explained with a giggle as he kissed his way back up your body to your mouth before he kissed you soundly as you wrapped yourself around him as you came down from your own afterglow before he slid right in.

“Oooh, perfect fit.” You purred up at him as he settled into place. You were stretched perfectly but not uncomfortably. Stuffed perfectly full and you melted into the bed when he didn’t pound, but actually stroked himself in and out of you, adjusting the angle of his hips until he found the perfect one for you both and every stroke felt like a blessing he was pouring into your being.

Then he worked up the tempo and the rhythm.

“Please, please don’t stop Noah, I’m so close, I’m so so close.” You begged as you felt your peak draw ever closer as Noah’s own body started to tense up as you clung to him and then that’s when he seemed to lose some semblance of control as his hips went from measured to almost a heinous pace as he started breathing even heavier and more labored as his hold on you grew almost desperate and it was enough to send you over the edge into bliss and when you inwardly constricted and fluttered around his length, it undid him and he came falling after you, pumping your canal so full, the seed had nowhere else to go but to seep out where you were joined as you both breathed heavily, trying to catch your breath as you just held each other as you looked up from the bed through the sky light to see the aurora borealis come out and move messmerizingly across the sky. It was so beautiful. And you were so happy and content to share such an intimate moment with Noah. He was such a gem. This perfect jewel of the north who had been waiting for you to come and find him and cherish him and love him. And you would do your best to do so for the rest of your life.

Once you two fully relaxed you looked around and noticed the bed looked like a hurricane had come through the room.

“Come on, help me make the bed, then we can sleep.” You gently urged him as he begrudgingly let you go and together you made quick work of putting the sheets back on properly and fixed the many layers of blankets before you quickly went pee in the bathroom and at least picked up all your discarded clothes in the hallway and put them in Noah’s room while he went to the bathroom himself before you met back into the bed and cuddled, looking up at the northern lights before you both drifted off to sleep.

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lillithenettix · 4 years

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Part 4

Part 5/?

With Dallas running off after the other two, Boris didn’t even bother trying to turn around this time. He just continued sitting, passively waiting to see if anyone else is planning on pouncing him or not. At least this time he is prepared. Somewhat.

Read the rest of the fic under the cut!

To be honest, Habit hadn’t talked to Dallas all that much back at the Habitat. But when they did talk, the topic was rarely about something other than art. While Habit was definitely doing art as a hobby, the other man took it more seriously. He knew which colors went together best, how to draw figures from different perspectives, how lighting works, all that mumbo jumbo Habit never really cared to learn.

Habit was always left a bit impressed, thought, at the end of the day he still preferred his comically cartoonish drawings. It was simple, cute, and a great way to express himself when nothing else did the trick.

Thinking back on it, maybe he shouldn’t have expressed himself that much around the habitat with the drawings. The first time he went back to visit the Habitat, some days after the Big Event, to finally shut it down, he realized how creepy some of his doodles were. The blood, the creepy staring, the crying. Frankly, he scared himself with them.

He felt a pressure in his chest, being thankful to Flower Kid for saving him, once again.

While he was still looking off to the side from which Dallas came from, he heard footsteps from his front.

So there are more of his potential future friends still coming! He has to admit, it made him quite happy and hopeful.

In the short second it took him to look at the new person approaching him, his mind went through all the next potential people that could arrive. Thought, honestly, he really doesn’t know which ones have more chances of appearing so he just focused on the then and there. His smile grew in excitement.

As soon as he laid his eyes on the newcomer it dropped. Not in disappointment, anger, or any other emotion than surprise. His mouth was agape, he tried to say something but nothing came out.

He really though he was ready but to see Questionette here left him in awe. He didn’t even think she would’ve understood his letter. She wasn’t even speaking English in the chatroom from what he remembered.

Maybe she took an English crash course in the short time between the group chat and now? It’s the only thing he could think of at the moment. Sure, it might’ve taken him a few years to become fluent in English when his family migrated to the United States, but he will push the slight pang of jealousy down for now, and rather be impressed if that was really the case here.

Or maybe she just got someone to translate it. Who knows.

“Bonjour, flouriste!” She greeted, a small gentle smile on her face, and put something down on the table.

Habit briefly glanced downwards and saw a Hydrangea. It looked freshly picked, the petals dainty and healthy, and a pretty blue colour.

Thank you for understanding.

Huh? Had he remembered the meaning right? He was quite sure he did. But he couldn’t come up with a reason she’d be thankful to him for.

Come on, Boris, think!

He looked back up at her, straight into her eyes, as if that will bring back any forgotten memories. He wanted to remember but he couldn’t.

If she saw his confusion, she didn’t acknowledge. She just leaned both of her elbows onto the table, intertwined her fingers, and laid her head on them, much like Boris had done when patronizing or mocking his Habiticians in the past.

But Questionette still held a gentle smile, no hint of mockery. She just kept looking, not moving a muscle, waiting.

What was she waiting for, thought? An apology?

Well, duh, Boris, you dunce! That’s why you invited them all here!

“…Sorry.”

He wanted to slap myself across his face. Could he have possibly sounded any more unsure and insincere? So hesitant to say it, in only one word, and practically monotone. He wanted to try again.

Before he could fix his mistake, start anew, she looked away. Her smile still present, waiting.

This baffled Boris.

She didn’t seem disappointed or mad at his half-hearted apology. Was she waiting for something else?

Questionette looked back at him, staring at his face as the gears inside his head turned and turned, trying to figure out the puzzle she posed for him.

So much for the whole ‘understanding’ affair. He must seem like a total idiot to her. So far, their interaction has been a disaster from start to finish on his part. His look of shock, his mouth hanging open, not even greeting her back-

Not even greeting her back.

Boris! Where are your manners?

He had to stop himself from blurting out just any old ‘hello’ or ‘hi’ in a rushed panic. He wanted it to seem special. Well, as special as a greeting can get.

Then he remembered one.

“Privjet, prijatelnica!” He blurted out, no hesitance, with the confidence of a car salesman.

It didn’t take him long to start second-guessing himself since the greeting was the very same as the one he initiated conversations with back at the habitat. More specifically, conversations with her.

Questionette gave him no time for regret as her smile grew into one of pure happiness.

She puckered her lips, as much as she could with her wide smile, and sent a kiss flying in his direction.

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

When Questionette arrived to the United States, let’s just say things didn’t go very well for her.

She didn’t really know what she was thinking. Maybe it was her naivete, or maybe her youthful enthusiasm. Disregarding her family’s worries, and her friends’ warnings about the outside world. Only knowing how to speak French, and with a big ambition to make a name for herself in the theatre world, she almost instinctively decided to move to America.

America, the land of the free. America, land of opportunity. And America, the land of English speakers.

Oh, Questionette, what have you gotten yourself into.

So with whatever little money she brough from home, she started traveling, looking for jobs at local theatres. But, unfortunately, it is hard to find a job when you don’t understand your employer and your employer doesn’t understand you.

And all the paperwork. God, the paperwork. It took her so long to fill out anything the government needed from her with help from some equally confused government workers who didn’t understand her.

When searching or traveling she made a quick buck acting as a mime, though she had to admit, that wasn’t her forte. But Americans did love laughing at a random Frenchie trying to not make a fool our of herself on the street, so she had to swallow her pride at times.

Eventually, she became just too tired of everything. Everything was so hard without communication. She didn’t even have enough money to return back to France. To her family. Prove them all right, and admit she just wasn’t up to the task.

Then she started seeing strange flyers everywhere. They didn’t contain a whole bunch of words on them. It was mostly pictures and drawings. There were many variations of the flyers, or at least she assumed as much by looking at the style of the drawings. And they made sense to her.

Something made sense to her. Finally.

It’s been so long since she understood anything in this damn country.

She wanted to go to this place. To this place where you can find your smile again. For free! She had been so happy she could’ve cried.

So she started walking, and she didn’t stop until she arrived on top of that hill with the strange but unique building on it. She grabbed the giant door which she assumed was the entrance and pushed.

It didn’t move. She pushed again. And again.

If pushing wouldn’t solve it, then maybe knocking would. So, she had done just that. Hitting the door a little louder with each knock. She had to admit, she was starting to despair a little.

Eventually her hands started hurting from all the knocking which got progressively more aggressive.

Now, Questionette is by no means a violent person, but damn was she desperate right now. She just wants a little time off, rest for a bit, gather up her strength.

She plopped down on the ground and waited. Someone had to come around eventually. She was confident she understood the flyer correctly. Heck, the last one she found was just some scribbles getting the point across, not a word in sight!

She must’ve been sitting in front of the place for hours. The sun was slowly setting, and it looked beautiful and peaceful. She started nodding off, eyes closing and her mind just wanting to catch some rest when a very, very, tall man appeared in front of her. So many various screws, bolts, and thingamajigs in hand that the pile seemed to be blocking his view.

Wanting to make herself more presentable by dusting off her skirt and straightening her shirt she shot up, only to startle the poor giant, seemingly only noticing her once she was standing at her full height.

All the doodads he was holding fell to the ground, scattering all around them.

“Fu-“ he started but took a deep breath, held it in, and exhaled before continuing, “blin.”

Feeling sorry for making the man drop everything, she quickly rushed to pick everything up. She hoped nothing was broken. Glancing up at the man, she saw him looking at her. Not sure whether he was going to get angry at her or not, she apologized.

“Désolée, c’est ma faute, je ferai attention la prochaine fois.” And she meant it.

It was probably just gibberish to him, but still, better than not saying anything.

But his reaction was unexpected. He smiled with excitement.

“Privjet, prijatelnica,” he started waving at her as if she was an old friend he saw across the street, and not a random stranger that scared a year of his life out of him.

She had to admit, it left her a bit confused. That didn’t sound English. But it sure as hell wasn’t French either. The confusion must have shown on her face.

The man proudly lifted a clenched hand to point at himself with his thumb, still beaming.

“Yevropa!”

Taking a moment to process what he said, she let out a small ‘ah’ when it finally clicked.

Questionette let everything she picked up so far drop back to the ground and imitated his previous movement by pointing at herself.

“L'Europe!”

It might have been a little weird. Two Europeans who didn’t really understand each other yelling ‘Europe’ in their respective languages with the excitement of a six-year-old getting a new toy, but somehow it brought comfort to her.

From that meeting on, things went much smoother. She eventually learned that the place was called the Habitat, and that she arrived a week before the official opening.

Whoops. Well, mistakes tend to happen when you can’t read flyers properly. At least she was the first one to experience the luxury of this free resort.

The tall man, Doctor Habit who she figured out was from Russia, introduced his two employees to her as well. Kamal Bora, the one who worked as the Doctor’s assistant, and Wallus Breadbear, the janitor.

She and Habit didn’t literally understand each other, but she enjoyed his company immensely. It was hard to hate a guy who’d greet her as happily as he did every day, always with the same sentence. It really grew on her. She wanted to look the words up in a dictionary when she got her hands on one.

While the four of them were waiting for more Habiticians to arrive to this happy place, they got to mingle a bit, and it didn’t take Questionette long to start getting close with the two workers as well. Especially the janitor.

Not even a day after they got introduced to eachother, Wallus went and bought the biggest English to French dictionary he could find. She found it sweet that he cared enough to do that. Their conversations were slow and mostly in broken French but with how much time they had on their hands, they managed. Surely enough, feelings started to blossom between them.

But the doctor didn’t like that.

She learned he was a very jealous man. Pulling her away from Wallus at every opportunity, butting in on their conversations, things that went unnoticed by her for some time. At first it was sort of cute how he wanted her attention, but the longer it kept going, the creepier it became.

Then Wallus lost the dictionary they couldn’t find it anywhere. Everyone, excluding the Doctor, helped search for it, Kamal, the newly joined habiticians, as well as herself. Losing the little book was very unpractical for their relationship. So unpractical, in fact, that it began to crumble not long after.

She tried keeping the relationship alive, but it seemed like Wallus didn’t. He became more and more uncomfortable being near her, and she never figured out why. She had some theories, but that’s all they were. Theories.

Eventually, Habit stopped hanging out outside his office.

Then she became lonely again. At least, until the Flower Kid showed up.

Thinking back on it, it wasn’t all bad in the beginning. But when things got good, they got worse again. Which sucked. At least now she’ll have a great story to tell her friends and family back home, whenever she would see them again.

Surprisingly, when she got out of the Habitat, the big woman that hung out on the roof, watching for birds all day, started talking to her. Granted, Questionette didn’t understand a word that came out of the woman’s mouth, but it was still nice.

The woman introduced herself as Borbra Luddington.

In the following months Borbra even helped her learn English. It started with pointing at things and yelling out their name, but eventually she gifted Questionette some used textbooks and workbooks she found online.

When Kamal invited everyone to the chatroom she wanted to surprise everyone with her newly acquired knowledge, but she decided against it. There was a little childish part inside her that wanted to see and get as much praise as possible for learning English. She wanted to surprise them in person. See their faces, their reactions.

And what better opportunity than at the doctor’s… err… florist’s new workplace!

What a surprising change of professions for the man. As for herself, she stuck to theatre. She might not have been the most popular or famous, but she got a few small roles when she auditioned in the recent past. Everyone has to start somewhere.

She had to admit, she did miss Habit. Just a little. She was still hurt by his actions, but when Flower Kid gave her the rundown of everything that happened in the Habitat, he did occupy her mind for a while.

Sorting through her feelings, mulling everything over she figured out that she wanted to forgive him. Maybe because of ‘the good ol’ times’ when he saved her from giving up on the streets, maybe because she felt a tinge of pity for him, or maybe both.

If he really is working towards gaining her forgiveness, she is ready to forgive. Forgive, and finally look up what his greeting meant.

In any case, she had an idea of what to bring him as a sentiment of goodwill.

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Yeeeaahhhh, i didn't know how tf to work with a quik-translator so i transformer it into a english-french dictionary in the fic :')

also i apologize to any russians reading this, i try to avoid cyrillic script since the fic is in english

#my art #my writing #smile for me #boris habit #dr habit #sfm #questionette #smile for me game #i got really emotional abotu questionette in this fic ok #she needs more love

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