#and he will always agree with an insult against his asshole father

[unlawfulchaos]

Maverick, trying to flirt: My dick is like life... Life is hard.

Iceman, blankly: Life is also short.

Maverick: Listen here, you annoyingly sexy son of a bitch-

Iceman, trying to contain his upset: You should know that my mother is an incredibly kind, respected, and well loved woman.

Maverick: I meant your father?

Iceman: ...

Iceman: Continue.

[cod-z]

Being Used

You chose to read this, do NOT blame me if you ignore my warnings! TW: Manipulation, SA, Mental Manipulation, Power abuse, Degradation, Swearing, Comparing, DarkFic, just rlly fucked shit I thought of.

Pairing(s): 141 x Reader

| One-shots |

A/N: Been thinking about dark stuff…? Idk, I’m just out of it right now, my mentality is spiralling and I need to release these dark thoughts about the boys, using and abusing us.

Captain John Price who uses you to his advantage, to have control over you and using your being to bend against his will, use your mind as a second host like a parasite infesting into your brain. John Price who will make you second guess your thoughts, your pros and cons, your morals just because he can and will, abusing his rank against you as you suffer the consequences of his choices, whether it’s you who takes the bullets for the team or being the little, bitch you are on his desk being bent over and his cock being bullied into your cervix. He’d ravish and abuse you whenever and however he wants even if you were damaged, healing, doesn’t matter as long as he had gotten his fill from you because you’re a good soldier, a good soldier who’ll listen to the Captain, right? Right?

Lieutenant Ghost a darkened man, a former shell of the life he could’ve had, if his family was still alive minus the asshole of a father. If only he wasn’t weak and so naive back then perhaps he’d be different to the person you know as Ghost, using you just the same as Price but less soft and controlled, using you as he abuses his rank, humiliating you in front of recruits because he could. He’s breaking you like the world has broken him, jealous of the family that awaited you back home with love and care, using you so can know how he felt when he was younger. Taking you every which way just like Price but this time it was off and on base, slamming your doors open while he slammed you against the wall. You’ll help your Lieutenant, it wasn’t your choice.

Sergeant Soap he was more merciful than the other two seeing as being a Sergeant didn’t have the intense workload like the Captain and Lieutenant, no, but he used you for his high libido, always grabbing you into darkened corners, covering your pretty mouth while he ruts into your ass or cunt even if you begged him to stop. Now with his mentality, he was fine, sure he had his dark days when the mission went south but it rarely happened but when it did… hell would’ve been a better option to live in. He may not be of higher statue but he’ll treat you as the lowest of filth, embarrassing you further than Ghost ever will while he makes sure to implant thoughts into the recruits that you were nothing but a slut, even at your given rank, letting his ego fuel as you agree as he groped you. You let him do it, why? He wanted you and you wanted him, this is what you want, is it not?

Sergeant Gaz was a pretty-boy, in your eyes he did nothing wrong, never argues, never raises his voice, denying all the dark rumours that surrounded his picture perfect image, never wanting to burn that mental image of him. Gaz the perfect, pretty-boy. Wrong. Behind closed doors he’d degrade you, telling that your worth was beyond nothing but a speckle of dirt on the ground, using you as an outlet of his fury while he hate-fucks you onto the floor. If both of you were outside, he’d bury your face into the dirt and compares you to it, how you should be 6 feet under, harsh words and insults leaving his pretty mouth. Mentally and emotionally, he uses you to show that he wasn’t someone to be looked as perfect, he had his flaws, he had that same insanity as the rest of the Task Force and he’ll show you as the example. Anything for the pretty-boy…

[bookofmirth]

I was wondering if you would be willing to take on an analysis of Cassian and Nesta’s relationship. I’m a sucker for romance and when I first read acosf I was so excited and happy for all the nessian although there were parts I felt so angry with Cassian because I felt were extremely unnecessary, like making Nesta carry a heavy pack all while not noticing her dehydration, telling her he’s shackled and not getting a decent reconciliation, to name a few. I feel like the story has this imbalance between the two characters because everyone already sees Cassian as this funny, mistreated by society, handsome huge cuddle bear in Feyre’s pov and we see Nesta as this unnecessary asshole in her pov. That, paired with Nesta’s self loathing, is why I can see why some readers are led to believe Nesta is awful to Cassian and might even go as far as agree that she needs to be worthy of him (which is why I have feelings about Mor who is an NC leader and one of her job titles is to help abused women but that’s another topic) then to read it explicitly in Nesta’s pov at the ending of acosf is what made me abandon the ship almost completely. which is a problem because we’ve agreed in previous posts just as Nesta’s pov is subjective by that same logic so is Feyre’s.

I loved reading your thoughts about Nesta and her father since that also didn’t make sense to me. I always figured Nesta’s trauma stemmed from the matriarchal side of her family and it’s helping me come to a certain understanding. I was just hoping maybe your perspective might give nessian a fresh angle I’m missing.

Hello! I will do my best. I assume we probably won't agree 100% but I am very much in the mood to lend some nuance to Nesta's character since the fandom is either intensely anti her or pro her, and both stances distort her character (and tbh some of the takes I've seen COMPLETELY missed the point of her entire character and of acosf, not to mention they are super vitriolic and antagonistic towards other people in the fandom. Calm the fuck down, y'all. No you op, just... the fandom.)

I take nessian as being a very different type of ship than any of sjm's others. Her other ships have tension that usually stops short of cruelty, but nessian are very aggressive as a couple and that energy turns antagonistic sometimes. Their dynamic is what made sjm make them mates, because Nesta is a force to be reckoned with and Cassian is not only strong enough to be with her and give it back, but he doesn't turn away from her either, when so many people in her life have stopped trying (Amren, Elain, Feyre to an extent).

I put the rest of this under the cut because it got very long!

Honestly, it confuses me when people get mad at Cassian for being mean to Nesta because that street goes both ways. They both say horrible things to each other that they know will wound, though Nesta does it first and more often. She calls him a brute and a bastard, when we know that that's one of his major insecurities. And this starts in Wings and Embers!

Her brows flattened. “Leader of the High Lord’s armies, and yet the brute remains. You cannot cow me with words, so you seek to intimidate me through your hulking size.”

Rhys, Az, and Cassian all call each other bastards on occasion but with them it's Bastard (affectionate). When Nesta calls Cassian a bastard/brute, she does it à la Beron and Eris. I honestly can't include all the times that she insults him that way. He lets it go at first, but then we know that, in his POV, this is actually an insult that gets under his skin and something he thinks about himself - much in the same way that Nesta thinks negative things about herself:

They were all staring. Cassian rolled his tensed shoulders, stretching out his wings. He’d revealed too much. Like a stupid brute, he’d let them all see too much, learn too much.

And someone else who uses that against him is Eris:

Cassian clenched his jaw. “So you’re to be my ally whether I wish it or not?” “The brute understands at last.” Cassian ignored the barb.

“It’s the ugliness of his fucking soul that riles me. I don’t care if he calls me a mongrel bastard.” Eris had called him such things today, she realized. Rage rippled through her. “It’s just that, ally or not, I hate him. He’s so slick and unruffled and … I can’t stand him.” He set down his fork and stared toward the window behind her. “Eris and his twisted word games and politics are an enemy I don’t know how to handle. Every time I meet with him, I feel like he’s got the upper hand. Like I can only catch up to him, and he sees through my every fumbling attempt at being clever. Maybe that makes me a stupid brute after all.”

And it's ironic to me that Nesta gets angry at how Eris insulted Cassian in that way, because she has done the exact same thing. So she knows that her blows are landing. In fact, that's why she does it. Nesta has identified a weakness and exploits it in order to push Cassian away, so I'm not surprised that it worked and he snaps. That's the reaction she's going for and that's the kind of behavior she needs to change because she's constantly pushing people away and then getting angry/sad when they leave.

The reason that I am emphasizing the things that Nesta has done here is not to say any of this is her fault, but that they both dish it out, and if we read the whole scenes, it usually starts with Nesta because that's just where she's at in her life right now. I dislike the arguments that because Cassian is older, he should know better or whatever, because 1) Nesta is an adult, and 2) as an Elder Millennial lol I know that age doesn't mean anything when it comes to maturity. In fact, I've lost my fucks with increasing frequency over the past few years. I know 20 year olds who are more mature than 40 year olds. It's just not that simple!

To go back to my initial point about their relationship, I think that even once the intention to harm is gone, now that some reconciliation has happened and they accept the mating bond, they will continue to be that aggressive couple. Feysand are leaders, nessian are warriors, and in the future I see elucien as co-conspirators and gwynriel as competitors. Nesta and Cassian both fight for what they care about, in the literal fighting sense, so it seems natural that that bleeds into their relationship a bit when they are still butting heads and trying to figure out how they work.

There are a couple of things you pointed out that I've noticed other people mention, so I wanted to discuss them!

like making Nesta carry a heavy pack all while not noticing her dehydration

I personally don't have an issue with the hike as a whole (I have another ask where I'll touch on it), but I did read this thing where Nesta passed out from dehydration as being both of their faults. Cassian just isn't paying attention, he forgets that Nesta isn't a hundreds of years old Illyrian tough guy and she *had barely gotten to the bottom of the stairs at the HoW (edit because I forgot she did that just before these shenanigans). Nesta is a grown adult, he's not her babysitter, she could have said something but instead she just suffered. (I wonder if that was also in line with her self-destructive behavior in acofas?) They're basically both being dumb here.

telling her he’s shackled

While he is doing this to hurt Nesta in that scene, all of the acotar mates thus far have said that about their mate. Lucien said it about Elain and Rhys about Feyre, though theirs were in more self-deprecating ways. To me, it just goes back to the push and pull that Nesta and Cassian have. I think the conflict in that scene is that they are essentially talking about two different things - for Cassian, Nesta rejecting the mating bond is her rejecting him. But for Nesta, the mating bond has nothing to do with Cassian and everything to do with her lost humanity. Cassian is taking her reaction personally (and why wouldn't he, when she has spent so much time picking at his insecurities?) and she is thinking of how the Cauldron and being Made affected her (and why wouldn't she, when she is still grappling with her trauma?) They are basically both thinking of themselves! And not considering how the other one feels.

and not getting a decent reconciliation

I think *fingers crossed* that we will see them in a much better place in future books. SJM said that Nesta's story will continue, so I'm just going to be optimistic here. Since the narration won't follow either of their perspectives anymore (we assume) we probably won't get an in-depth exploration of it. In fact, I was surprised when I got towards the end of acosf that I only had 30 more pages because I knew that so much still needed to happen. The end was very rushed but that's a whole different issue 😂

I am curious what you think of them after this! They aren't my favorite acotar ship; that's reserved for feysand and elucien, at least in canon. But I really love Cassian's character for his combination of strength and vulnerability, and Nesta is probably the most complex and interesting thus far, so I enjoy them from that standpoint.

[marlowe1-blog]

Job Chapter 15

Oh fuck. Eliphaz the Temanite is Speaking Again

When last we heard from Eliphaz the Temanite, he was telling a man who had just lost everything all the toxic positivity cliches that you see on Facebook from your stupid friends. In this chapter, he sounds almost Christian.

No that's not a compliment. Christianity is a death cult that has been pushing its awful shit on the world for years. Whenever I see one of those polite homophobic statements like "I just don't approve of their lifestyle" or "I wish they weren't always pushing it down our throats" I agree and then add "We are talking about Christians, right?"

Eliphaz the Temanite begins this chapter by insulting Job. That seems to be the major theme of this book. Job says something that his friends don't like and his friends shoot back by calling him a wordy sinful jerk. So Eliphaz gives us that shit. Your own mouth condemns you - not I. Your lips testify against you.

In other words, everything Job says gets the tl;dr response. And then we get to the no man is without sin talk. Simply put, you must have done something to deserve this Job. (this is the one place where rabbis and Christians sound a lot alike. Only the rabbis are trying to say that Job did something wrong and Eliphaz is saying that EVERYONE is doing something wrong.)

Of course, this is still a Jewish book and the Jewish belief in sin and repentance still is "apologize and move on with your life" and not the abusive father viewpoint that Christianity pushes (if you want Dad to forgive you for not washing the dishes, then watch Dad kill his favorite), so even as Eliphaz has his say, he's still wrong. Just like those Cersei chapters in A Feast of Crows are not meant to be the author viewpoint.

And then we get the wicked man writhes in torment speech. That's pretty much where Eliphaz is going. The wicked man is always going to be vulnerable to robbers and retribution. The wicked man is basically Tony Soprano giving his last look in the last Sopranos episode. He is not going to build anything that will last. Nothing will last of him. He's just a shitty dude and that's that.

Even better he will wither before time and he never get away from himself. And I get it. That is comforting. I think of the evil motherfuckers who have died screaming. I think of Hitler shooting himself knowing that he lost and I think of Rush Limbaugh dying of cancer. I think of Trump just screaming into the void as his jail cell looms larger and I think about the billionaires who went smush in the submersible. Oh these are nice thoughts.

But what about the damage? What about the AIDS victims that Reagan let die? What about the victims of Hitler? What about the people who died under Trump? What about the workers who died because Andrew Carnegie didn't want people striking? And that sonofabitch still gets celebrated and there are still videos coming out from Prager U (a school even worse than University of Phoenix) praising that cunt.

How long before the wicked actually perish? Eliphaz is not as much of an asshole with his cute little aphorisms but at least he gives a nice little fantasy.

[blackbat05]

You’re the best to me

Dad Shangqi x Mom Reader

A/N: Well! This idea came out pretty quickly! I guess some of these experiences are what I experienced with my dad and I thought hey, why not spread some joy into these fics? It may be a bit different from what I originally planned but I really hope that you guys like it!🙇🏽‍♀️ <University Blues> is kinda like a prequel to this?

Genre: PG 13

Warnings: Rude parents, subtle racism in between the lines (please everyone, in this difficult time, we could treat one another nicely) and if you consider Shangqi absolutely adoring his little Princess a warning and just being a supportive Sports Dad in general than suree haha👍🏽

The arena was filled with noise as the Xu family stepped in. Little Xu Xiayi was clearly nervous as she gripped her father’s hand tightly. It was natural of course, because she would be competing in her first competition.

Shangqi bends down, adjusting his daughter’s taekwondo uniform. ‘How we feeling?’ Placing his hand against her heart he gasps dramatically for god measure, ‘Wow there’s a train in there!’ It did work for a few seconds as he manages to elicit a tiny smile.

‘You nervous?’

‘A little,’ Xiayi fiddles with her belt. How he wished he could take away the nerves for his baby girl. But if there was one thing he learnt from his own father, once you’re on the stage, you have to learn how to handle the nerves. Still he was aware that his girl was only 7 years old and was just starting out in competitive martial arts.

‘Baobei, look at me.’ He sees her brown eyes that she had inherited from him. ‘Whatever the result may be, as long as you gave it your all, me and your mama will be very proud of you.’

You bend down, huddling together with your two favorite people. ‘Baba is right, whatever the outcome, we know you tried your very best!’ In an effort to make Xiayi less nervous, you squeeze your baby in a big bear hug. Just then her number is called with another girl who was at least half a head taller.

‘Go Xiayi!’ You cheered, giving her a good luck kiss while Shangqi fist bumps her small hands. As she walks away, you notice Shangqi smiling to himself.

‘What’s in there mister?’ You teased. ‘Sad to see your little treasure finally being free?’

Your husband rolls his eyes as he slings his arm across your shoulder, trying to find seats among the other parents in the stands. ‘You wish. As long as I’m alive, Xiayi will never be free from me. I’m just happy to see Xiayi being such a strong girl. I was able to do something for her that I couldn’t do for my sister.’

You knew about the siblings’ rough childhood. ‘I’m sure Xialing would be proud of her niece. She told me she really wanted to come but something held her up back in Macau. She sends her best.’

The two of you manage to find pretty decent seats near where Xiayi was competing. And it looks like both the girl’s parents came too. Let’s just say you didn’t like the haughty looks on their faces. Still, you and Shangqi remained civil.

The match was more intense than you expected. And you felt yourself glowing with pride seeing how Xiayi matched up against the girl. As the two of you settled into your seats, more curious parents came by to see who was this unknown wonder kid. A mom with two other kids in tow tells you that Xiayi’s opponent is the number two seed in the draw.

But you knew Shangqi and you couldn’t agree with him more - matches were meant to have upsets. Seeding was just another thing of the past.

Throughout the match, both girls couldn’t break away. Until now. Xiayi manages to get a well-aimed kick at her head, helping her to break away from the tied score.

Time-out. The two went to the benches below the stands, taking much needed sips of water. Shangqi motions for me to stay put as the other girl’s parents rush to her. Xiayi needs to stay focused.

Just then, the girl’s father makes a comment to his daughter that causes your blood to rise in temperature. ‘Hurt her if you have to. Make sure that Chinese girl doesn’t stand a chance.’

Your head whips to Shangqi. He’s heard it too and boy, you have never seen him that pissed off before. But he won’t blow up now. For Xiayi, he must stay cool. He still tells her one thing before she gets back on the map.

‘Stay cool. Do what you’ve been doing.’

You could not bear the intensity that was unfolding in front of your eyes. For god sake this was just a children’s match! Shutting your eyes, you lean into your husband, praying for the best. You prayed that your little baby would show those arrogant assholes that they were wrong. That they should not have messed with the daughter of a martial arts master.

‘Babe, you don’t want to miss this.’ Shangqi nudges you, giving you the confidence you needed to see it through.

And Xiayi’s done it. She’s managed to do a roundhouse kick to the girl’s chest plate, taking home the win.

‘XU XIAYI!!!’ You grabbed Shangqi, jumping up and down in joy. Your girl had just caused a major upset in her very first tournament.

If you were ecstatic, Shangqi was over the freaking moon. He flew down the steps of the stands, letting Xiayi run into his arms before lifting her up and attacking her in kisses.

‘Hey! Hahaha! Baba stop! It tickles!’ You smile fondly at the wonderful sight in front of you. Suddenly, all these fears that Shangqi had of not being a good father, becoming like his dad who was filled with nothing but hatred just went out of the window at this very moment.

A loud crash is heard behind the father-daughter duo. Xiayi’s opponent throws her bag down in anger, storming ahead of her mother who is left to pick up her forgotten bag as the father walks beside to appease his own daughter. He sees the three of you celebrating and decides to continue to make the parade of uncalled comments. Shangqi tells you to take Xiayi away first.

‘She got lucky you know? No small sized Asian brat can beat our champ.’ Shangqi wonders, he wouldn’t exactly seek his father for advice but what would he do? He decides to walk forward, extending a hand. The other man is puzzled that Shangqi didn’t flip out completely but eventually takes his hand.

Shangqi sees the two of you from the corner of his eyes. No one insults his family and gets away with it. No one will undermine his daughter’s efforts because she’s different from others. With that in mind, he attacks every pressure point that he was taught, refusing to let the other hand go. Obviously the man couldn’t do anything as his daughter was watching this standoff, ‘Daddy what are you doing! Let’s go!’

‘Hold on a second hon-’ He leans forward, possibly to beg Shangqi to release his hand before it gets severed due to blood loss. But Shangqi beats him to it, ‘If I ever hear you say anything like that three feet within my daughter and wife you son of a bitch, your hands won’t be the one in pain.’

The man nods meekly, on the verge of crying out loud. Once Shangqi lets him go, the obnoxious family got out of the arena faster than you could say ‘Cheese’.

‘Baba! That was so cool! You’ve got to teach me that so that I can teach the boys in my school a lesson not to pick on me and Jenny!’ Xiayi runs into him, wrapping her small arms around his waist. He turns to you for answers only for you to mouth, she knew.

Although Xiayi was just a kid, but she was very perceptive. For now, Shangqi doesn’t want that incident interrupting his kid’s moment of glory. So he settles with a, ‘Sure baobei, baba will teach you one day.’ He bobs her crinkled nose.

You decide to interrupt. ‘Now I usually don’t allow this, but who wants boba?’

At this moment, you wondering if you were raising one or two children. ‘Last one out of here is a dumpling!’ Shangqi pretends to sprint ahead with Xiayi running after her father, leaving you behind.

How blessed were you, when this man popped into your life. All because you ran into him on a basketball court years ago?

With Xiayi now, there will definitely be ups and downs, but you felt that as long Shangqi was there with you, nothing felt too much.

A/N: Omg I have no idea how this turned out from the idea in my head HAHA😬 I hope it’s alright! Not an expert in taekwondo or martial arts in general so I tried to rack some basic information that is buried deep in my brain. As always, like and comment if you wish and thank you for reading!❤️

Special shout-out to @wint3r-h3art @crazycookiecrumbles @ntlmundy for encouraging me to write this piece that I had in my brain within such a short span of time! I thought that maybe you would like to read it the moment it comes out🙆🏽‍♀️

[katsukikitten]

Just some general warnings and disclaimers, this is an aged up Victorian era AU that I did a sort of collab with @bakugotrashpanda, so please check out BTP’s work as well. We had so much fun discussing this idea and breathing life into it, we would love to hear how these stories made you feel. Please also note that the woman in the banner is NOT the set skin tone for reader so please feel free to have that match your own skin tone! Also this is one of my bigger works coming in at a little over 14,000 words! (maybe a part two idk) but enjoy~

The room ebbs in the low light of flickering candles, people gather in clusters like lost geese as they honk their gossip at one another causing you to sigh. It would be another long night of mental games as your cold eyes fail to warm from the eccentric sights. Silk dresses, long gloves, shimmering gems, and endless drink and food. 

Yet you hated how little power you had over your choice of being here or not. 

Countless eyes rake over your long dress, always choosing a color so deep in hue it is often mistaken for black. They often murmur curiosities as they ponder over what exactly you are mourning.

Little do they know it is your freedom. 

Tonight you are in blood red with matching gloves to your elbows, diamonds, garnets and rubies drip from your throat and ears. A sight to be seen in your bold dark colors that are often frowned upon during the bright season of spring and summer. 

A bold male approaches and yet the closer he gets to your stunning form the more meek he becomes. He nods his head and reaches for your hand, pressing his lips to your gloved knuckles. 

"May I have your first dance?" He peers up at you as you stare down with an icy glare. Removing your hand with deadly precision from a man you know of but could not care less about. 

"You may not." You say simply and all he can do is stew in his rejection, affirming your wishes with a small nod. Another male in a smooth storm grey suit approaches. His large hand grasping onto your fingers, bringing your knuckles to his lips. 

"You look exquisite my dear. Would you honor me with your first dance?" 

"I shall not." Another subtle yet swift removal of your hand from his, wishing you had worn two pairs of gloves for this sniveling little asshole. Not everyone knew his secret love for abusing women but you did. He would never get the pleasure of dancing with you and in the two years since your introduction into the market you've made sure he had no one to wed. Using the power and respect people had towards your Father's name, towards you for guidance, ultimately steering them away from this pathetic sack of bones. 

And with your power you were dubbed the icy hot debutante of Alryne, fierce as a flame so hot, it felt cold. 

You wear a neutral face, but you do not smile, making yourself a touch unapproachable. This already weeds out the weak men who want nothing more than to suck the blood and money from your father's estate. 

But it wasn't as if the neutral face was easy to achieve, oftentimes you had to fight a scowl. For two years you've hated every second of every ball, party, or soiree since the Queen smiled in your favor during your first debut. She often praised, as did your mother, your cold precision, quick wit, and intelligent political decisions that were so well disguised that men just thought you modest. 

When in actuality you were playing the game, and since you were being forced to play by your father then by Hell's flames you would win it all. 

The first half of the ball drags in stupor of tedious repetition as you idly chat with women of various titles to gather any information you could without revealing your own hand. 

Besides all of the pestering gnats, everyone knows that your first dance is always reserved for important males, to never approach until after the two of your six stamps have already been taken. Even then there was a high chance of rejection, as there were no men of value to be seen. 

At least not yet. For as long as you could remember the higher ranked males arrived a touch late, "fashionably late" they claim. Abhorrently annoying is what you call it.  

Fashionably late men such as Lord Bakugou, son to the Duke of Summer or his distant cousin Lord Kirishima, son to the Duke of Spring. 

Bakugou arrives first, his grin wolfish as he scans the crowd, women flock to his arrogance in troves, although he ignores them. He has one woman in his sights yet it is not the woman he stands before. You give a small courtesy as you speak. 

"My Lord." Offering your hand gently. 

"My Starlight." He presses his lips to your silky glove for a long moment unable to keep his cocky smirk off of his face, "May I take your first dance?" 

Fighting to keep the delighted smile off of your face you offer a flutter of your lashes. He kisses your knuckles once more as if you needed convincing but the two of you know what you are doing. 

"You may." And with that his wolfish grin returns as he sweeps you onto the dance floor, showcasing your abilities as he shows off his own. Not to mention the dance floor is a great place to talk in private. His hand lingers just above your lower back, firm in his grip as his other hand holds yours almost delicately. 

"We match tonight, my Starlight. A brilliant touch." He guides you along the floor with ease, his eyes gesturing towards his vest and tie. 

"I only took an educated guess as to what you would wear, my Lord." 

"Do not sell yourself short. I know how sharp that mind is." Another wolfish grin, his eyes never leaving yours while feeling the court gaze upon the two of you. You give him a knowing smile before asking. 

"Any luck with her majesty, the prized diamond?" You ask, eyes blazing with curiosity. He smirks again, only his eyes revealing his true scoff as he twirls you in your jeweled slippers. 

"I did as you instructed and went with my father to that dreaded stay at the countryside Manor, how did you know her Majesty and Princess Amila would be close by." 

"I took an educated guess." A blatant lie that has him grinning from ear to ear. He leans closer, pulling the attention of the ladies especially as his ember eyes burn into you. 

"Far more than an educated guess." He spins you again and you fight the tightness in your gut. Enjoying the dance as he parades you around the room as if to say look at what I have that you could never. 

Even if the two of you agreed you would never be his. The two of you having struck up an arrangement of sorts on your first dance. He was forced by his Grace to ask at least one woman to dance and he had only chosen you with hopes that you would say no. 

But you loved the honest, irritated look that lingered in his eyes and on his lips. So of course you said yes as misery loves company. It was then he told you not to fall for him as he had his eyes set on the Crown, you laughed loudly and said "As if I would ever fall for an arrogant pig such as yourself, my Lord." His smile was wild as he enjoyed your insult, it was then you told him you would help him with the Crown, only if he made you his first and last dance of the evening at every event. 

Back then he had hesitantly agreed, now he can see how far your scheming mind went. Saw the numerous callers and suitors who loitered in your parlor, the extravagant flowers that they sent in excess. The rings they bestowed to you as they dropped to one knee, bold enough to peacock the large diamonds in front of other callers. 

And all after Bakugou had done as you asked for only three parties. He got a front row seat to rejection every single time, which in turn started the talk, the gossip, that this city loved.  You were desired because of how you painted yourself and in turn made Lord Bakugou desired as well. Talked about, all because he was the only male who had your approval. 

He loved your scheming mind so much he could kiss you, but alas you did not wear a crown. Although you often had a braid of jewels atop your head, sadly you were not kin to royalty, only a Baron's daughter after all. 

Bakugou wonders what you could have done as a queen. He would think you an empress.

"Is that all the detail I get? Just a confirmation that I was correct about their holiday?" He spins the two of you in step, hand guiding you although you did not need it. Having memorized every step to every dance there was since before your debut. 

"She saw me." 

"And?!" You can hardly keep up the façade of calm collection as you wait. 

"And she flushed. Her cheeks were as red as any rose, Starlight, she was a rare red diamond sparkling by the lake. She must already be in love with me."  You snort, unable to stop the smile on your lips. 

"I've never heard you so poetic before. Normally you leave that to Lord Kirishima. How many times did you run into her? Not more than three I hope."

"Oi, I am a well versed student and I listened to my teacher. I made her wait for the fourth and denied it. Left her in wonder and hope as you said." He rolls his eyes, fingers sliding up to your dress line touching your bare skin with his beneath your guise of hair. The sensation of his warm fingers against your cool skin does not go unnoticed. 

"Are you practicing for your dance with the 'rare red diamond' now?" You taunt, earning that chest tightening wolf grin. 

"I'm only doing as my teacher has instructed." 

"Well the Princess will fall for you the moment you kiss her hand." 

"One can only hope. Her official debut is less than a month away. I want it to be perfect." His eyes shimmer with plotting mischief as does yours. 

"So it shall." 

The music flows and ebbs to the end of the song as Bakugou deposits you right back where he got you. Bringing your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles as he holds your gaze once more. 

"My Starlight." When he straightens you curtsy.

"My Grace." With that he leaves, heading towards the table of sweets and beverages, you were sure he would be ordering bourbon. Your mother clears her throat from her chair, the out of season silk blanket over her thick skirts pulls at your heart. She sits on that plush chair as if it were her throne. 

"You dance with Lord Bakugou often." An observation. 

"Indeed." A dry retort. 

"I am sure Lord Kirishima will be your next dance, correct?" 

"One can only hope." 

"So you have an eye for a Duke's son?" 

"I am happy to dance with those deserving, Mother." Your mother keeps her eyes on the turning bodies on the hardwood floor, Kirishima makes his way through the crowd once he spies you. Your mother turns to face you as she says 

"Is the Duke of Winter's son deserving?" 

"Hmm, he has three sons, mother." You keep your eyes away from her until she finally looks back into the crowd. 

"Ah yes but only one is ever at these events." You follow your mother's gaze and they fall upon the Lord, he is the third son, he opted to chase after the world of medicine rather than women. Earning his doctorate much faster than his peers, he only just returned to conduct his practice in Alryne. 

Pity he returned at all. 

He catches your eye and you make a point to turn your cheek, unable to stomach his heterochromatic, condensing gaze. Your turned cheek was as close to fuck you as you could ever say to the high and mighty Lord. Still the words burned on your tongue as if you swallowed acid. 

"It is not as if he ever dances mother. Therefore, how can I give him my attention? As you taught me a woman must wait to be asked as it is every woman's dream to be wed to a handsome, skilled dancer." Out of the corner of your eye you can feel her displeased look before she straightens. 

"At least do not string along Lord Kirishima, that boy is not as zealous as his cousin." She says just as the large man slips through the last throng of the crowd. 

"My shining gem." He smiles with sharp teeth before he places a chaste kiss atop your hand. 

"My Lord." A curtsy before he asks. 

"May I have this dance?" His smile is plastered on his face as he knows your answer. 

"You may." Kirishima sweeps you across the floor in a different manner than Bakugou. Lord Kirishima is more flirtatious in the way that he guides you. Always choosing more of the upbeat dances as opposed to his cousin's serious selection. You do not hesitate to go in for the kill. 

"So when do you plan to ask Lady Mina for her hand?" He blushes at your words. Biting the inside of his lip subtly, a habit you could only notice from being up close. 

"Have you even attempted to court her? What fear plagues you, Lord?" Confusion dots your features as a sad smile paints his soft lips. 

"I am not sure she would- That we would be an ideal fit." Kirishima admits, turning you gracefully, pulling you close to his body. Scandalous some would say had the two of you been an inch closer. 

"Well my Lord, I believe, had you actually talked to her while the two of you danced, as I suggested, then you would come to find out that she is lovely. Pure hearted as she is honest in this game seeking love. Most women here are making attempts to move up in position, my Lord. As a Duke's first son the title of Grace is yours to master. She is a delight and air is not the only thing between her ears as some of these…"You survey the room as everyone watches with greedy eyes, "Vultures." 

He laughs never used to your own unwavering honesty. He knows you are not participating by your own free will, he knows because you are helping himself and his cousin when he was sure you could have had anyone in this room.

If the Majesty's nephew, Prince of the Yarrow were to attend even one ball this season, Kirishima was sure you would have his attention too.  

He twirls your body away from his and brings you back to the safety of his sturdy form. Your eyes are molten determination as you all but hiss 

"Ask her to dance next. You know the host prefers the set to be serious, flirtatious, and then a slow dance. It will be the perfect time to talk." 

Lord Kirishima sighs, squeezing your hand as he guides the two of you closer to your mother so he can leave you in her company. 

"You could turn any dull man into something more. Whoever wins your hand is getting a precious gem indeed." He kisses your hand as the music begins to change into something slower as you had predicted. 

"One shall only hope." You curtsy as he takes his flushed neck towards a certain Countess. Your mother gives you a knowing look and you offer her a cat smirk. She shakes her head but even she cannot hide her own satisfied smile.

A blonde male approaches, as he does every third ball after he ensures your first two dances have been taken. The flamboyant male has not once asked for a dance first, trying to be just as calculating as you. Although he is much more obvious. 

You suppose it was not half bad for a male. 

"My lady." He bends lower than he should for his station in life, but he is obviously copying the cousins before him having seen how it makes you smile. 

Lavender eyes shine up at you as the Viscount brings his lips to your gloved hand. You debate if you should say yes tonight. Having left him in the dark as your desire to dance with him solely depended on your mood. 

"May I show the room the grace in which steals the breath from my lungs?" Your eyes smirk as your lips form a small smile. It seems flattery would earn him a dance tonight. 

"You may." 

The Viscount smiles with delight as he gently takes you to the dance floor, holding you to him as he takes you across the hardwood. The candle lights play along your features as Monoma's face grows soft. Had he been anyone else his gaze might have brought a flush about you. The two of you shared a few dances before, he has sat in your parlor in the time he has attempted to court you and the flowers he sends are always the most expensive. 

He has even brought you chocolate from a month's long trip. Even you had to admit that was thoughtful, not too many people knew of your Achilles heel. A small part of you thought that if no one else would do, at least this man would bring you luxurious chocolates. 

"No trips this season?" You smile politely, he blinks as he seems to come to. 

"Only if I can take you with me." He smiles, a hint. You pretend yourself modest and look away to fight the roll of your eyes. 

Maybe chocolate would not be enough to sate you. 

His eyes flicker to your mother as a question forms on his lips. 

"Neither your brothers nor the Baron attended tonight?" 

"Ah unfortunately no. My mother is my chaperone tonight." You say tilting your head, he turns so you can face her, stepping slowly as the song lulls on. 

"I am elated she is well enough to attend." He smiles, you cannot tell if it reaches his eyes so instead you offer 

"As am I." 

The rest of the night is filled with rejection tumbling from your rouged lips as champagne flutes seem to find their way into your hand. 

"Not too much of that dear or you will not be able to enjoy the company of your suitors." 

"Truly a pity." You say taking another from a passing waiter. Eyes trained on Lord Iida and the lovely dancer in his hands, a blue dress sweeping across the floor and a white carnation nestled in her hair. 

A beautiful touch and it pays homage to their first dance before they were even wed. 

The love that embraced the couple could turn anyone in the room green with envy. 

You down your flute as you reach for another. 

Night brightens into morning much too soon as curtains are ripped open in your room. 

"My lady callers will be here soon." Rose, your handmaiden says softly, "I have a bath waiting for you."

You groan in response having not had enough sleep after pouring over your drafts for your book until your candle snuffed itself out. 

"Turn them all away Rose." You growl turning away from the irritating light, could it not have rained this morning to delay the suitors as it always did in this forsaken town?

"She will do no such thing." Your mother says as she walks into your room with her cane, her hand gripping onto the golden beak of a bird. 

"Mother, why not marry off Hendrix or  Hideki?" 

"Hendrix must apprentice under your Father for a period of time while Hideki can do as he pleases for now. He is only 20, besides he makes an excellent chaperone does he not? He isn't too nosy nor does he neglect his duties to intimidate pushy men." She pushes some of your hair back as she sighs, "Although I doubt you need help in that manor." 

"I deserve a strong bloodline, so I will do what I must to ensure that. Even if my face has to be scary at times." You and your mother share a laugh before she adds. 

"Your face is far from scary my dear." She touches your cheek softly rising from the bed to allow you to get ready, "The suitors shall arrive within the hour. Make haste." 

"Yes mother." You half groan rising to wash. Enjoying the warm water that Rose has so kindly added aromatic flora and citrus to. Once you enter your bedroom Rose has a dress picked out for you, waiting for your final approval. You nod allowing Rose to assist you with your corset and strings of your dress before you pick out jewelry to match your silver finery. You choose a silver bracelet with little diamonds as stars that Lord Bakugou had given you for your birthday this past year, smiling down at the small thing before assessing yourself in the mirror. 

"What do you think Rose, should I add some rouge to my lips?" She gives you a smile of delight. 

"And your cheeks too, my Lady." 

Breakfast is served in the parlor as it consists mostly of fruits and finger pastries that will be served to the other guests. Hideki comes down in a fine and deep sapphire suit. 

“Sister.” He gives a smirk to which you nod.

“Brother.”

“And what trouble will you get into today?” He stage whispers, causing you to cut him a glare as your father comes around to loom in the arch way of the parlor. 

“Remember, you need to pick a husband this season or I will pick for you. It is disgraceful to have gone through two seasons at your age.”

“I am only twenty four, dearest Father..”

“That just proves my point. You have a month before I extend an offer to the Duke's-.” He takes in a sharp breath to chide you further only for his Grace to swoop in and save the day.

“Baron.” Bakugou says, his eyes challenging as your father bows his head. As Bakugou makes his way towards the delicate foods. Father cuts you a knowing glare. As if to say I know your games child.

You offer a sweet smile as you make your way towards your small writing desk, fighting off the urge to groan outwardly. You just wanted to work on your manuscript or read for that matter. Instead you would have to entertain men who cared not what you thought only what your pretty mouth would not say. They would swarm you, demanding attention as you waved them off gently, half you had never even spoken too.  Bakugou gives you a wicked smile from beside you as if he could read your thoughts. At least he always sat closest to you, saving you in a way although you never instructed him to sit close. 

He just always had. 

"Do you not want to play the piano today, my shining Gem?" Kirishima asks from the door. 

"Ah I am not sure I am in the mood for it, my Lord." 

"Easier to avoid people as the bench is only meant for one." Bakugou gives a devilish smirk, Kirishima almost pouts, his sullen expression does not go unnoticed by his cousin. 

"It has been an eon since you last played for us." Bakugou adds. 

"Am I to be your song bird today?" You cut a glare at him. 

"Yes, Starlight I believe you are." It seems it had no effect. Sighing you stand, collecting your skirts as your wrist twinkles in the morning sun. Garnet eyes bore into the delicate wristlet. Your fingers pluck a key here or there until you begin to play. Losing yourself in the music as you sing ballads from ages ago, melding them into songs you've written until it all sounds like a cohesive piece. Each old song is lost in transition to the new one, time ticks on but you do not notice the string of men who come and go from your parlor. Resting your voice for the time being as your fingers fly across the keys to something you composed while thinking of your father and his ever pushing hand towards a Duke's son you had great distaste for. The notes are sharp, almost jarring at times yet still the piece is stunning.  In that time you had not noticed the lavender eyed man who sat closest to you, right in front of the piano in the corner of the couch. The finger cramping song ends on a somber, harsh note. 

"What a beautifully charged song." Monoma says breathlessly. 

“Well I was thinking of my enemies when I composed it.” You smile at the sunshine blonde with a devilish grin, he feels unsettled by it but says nothing nonetheless. His lavender eyes glance over to the wolves at the back of your den. Hideki gives him a small nod, Kirishima a soft smile but Bakugou gives him a glare that feels like Monoma is gripping needles. 

He swallows thickly, adjusting himself on the plushed silk of the couch before your small piano. 

“Ah before I forget.” He smiles pulling out a box setting it atop the polished wood. Gifts were a natural part of courtship or so your mother said. You offer a smile, grabbing for the box with poised eagerness and yet not overly so. 

Not that you were excited but you had to pretend to be. You unbox the obvious jewelry and fight back the distaste as you stare down at a gaudy, overly large necklace. The colors are a soft green and yellow, colors you avoid for many reasons. 

“Thank you.” You think to add a chord or two to your unnamed song in honor of Monoma. Bakugou laughs loudly from the back of the room, feeling how much you hate the gift, you look over your shoulder to send him a glare that he can only smile at. 

After hours of trepid and boring conversation Monoma takes his leave. 

“Another evening my Lady.” He smiles softly and you return it half heartedly.

“Another evening.” Lavender looks over your shoulder before Monoma clears his throat

“Your Grace and your Grace.” He bows his head, the ash blonde and redhead nod in unison. 

"Shall we go and drink my high friends?" Hideki asks, hoping for an excuse to leave the stuff house. He was more than over bearing witness to  gag worthy stares and compliments some of these men gave you. 

"An excellent idea!" Kirishima exclaims, standing before stopping by you. He takes your gloveless hand with a sharp, flirtatious smile. 

"My shining gem." He presses his lips to your skin and you return his smile. 

"My Lord." He nods and takes his leave, Hideki at his heels as Bakugou approaches. He does an exaggerated sigh unable to hide his smirk. 

"Little songbird how will I ever get through the night without my Starlight?" He holds your hand, lowering his upper half as did his cousin before him. 

"I suppose you will fumble in the dark."

"If only I had the pleasure." He purrs as he presses his lips to your bare skin. Suddenly his fingers are too warm as he holds your gaze, he looks as if he could devour you. 

Lest he forget he is staring down a panther himself. 

"Have fun fumbling in the dark by yourself, my Lord." You remove your hand and look out of the corner of your eye at him. He backs towards the door of the room. 

"I should hope to have thoughts of Starlight." He calls before he disappears into the hall. You tap a key as your mind wanders before you rise, famished and ready for dinner before you would take a long night of writing. 

A month passes by faster than you'd like and you find yourself outside of the ballroom in the grand hall of the castle. Soft music filters in through the doors as your Father insisted the family be a bit late this evening. 

For he wanted to make a statement and one at your expense. 

"If Duke Enji's son asks you for a dance you will oblige." Your father hisses, his large hand curling around your bicep. You bare your teeth, stepping out of his grip as you collect yourself. 

"He has three." Acid drips from your tongue as sure as morning dew. 

"The doctor. Not the failure first born and not the inadequate second. The third. Shoto. Think of your ailing mother...would you abandon her for such vile, pointless ambitions?"

"I think you will not weaponize her. So do as I please and decline." You hold his burning glare as you add, "If the Duke's family is as bad off as you make it seem." 

"Oh I think you shall accept his dance. Or so help me God I will burn every book your ill, grief stricken mother ever shoved into your scrubby little hands." He leans closer, a nasty smile forming as his lips, "And if that is not enough I will throw your manuscript into the fire for fodder." 

Your eyes blaze with a rage that ignites beneath your skin, burning your blood as your eyes make unspoken promises. When I am through with you 

You part your lips to retort but your eye catches Hendrix and Hideki, their eyes filled with pity before your mother slowly approaches. 

Father chose his battleground well, knowing you would be unable to react as you pleased and with Bakugou already at the party there was no other male to save you. You bite your tongue until you taste blood. 

"Is everything alright?" Mother asks tentatively, fussing with your hair, "Darling you must mind your face, my love." 

You swat her away, breathing through your nose as if you were a dragon. Heat still dancing in your veins as you allow your feet to move on their own. 

"Announce me. Only me. And do not announce another soul until I am beyond the last step." You hiss to the harbinger whose eyes grow wide before he nods. His voice booms over the murmurers of the crowd and once eyes begin to land on you they are silenced. 

Your eyes are set hard and as cold as stone as you look over the crowd, slowly descending the steps in your deep ombre gown. Starless night black from the bodice before it lightens gradually into a charcoal grey, glittering crystals sewn into the material shine in the candle light like miniature stars. Your gloves followed the same gradual pattern except it seemed as if each finger was dipped in glittering silver and atop your wrist was your favorite piece, diamonds winking in the low light set into silver pointed stars. Woven in your hair were diamonds and pale citrine alike forming a crown in its own nature. 

Had Her Royal Highness not have already been announced and seated it would be easy to mistake you for the Crown. Considering how you commanded attention and held yourself, eyes looking at no one but seeing all. 

The envy, the awe, the lust. 

A pivotal moment was coming, the last three stairs is where a woman would normally hold out their hand, expecting their favorite suitor to take action but you did not hold out your hand. Keeping one firmly on the dark wood of the banister while the other was eloquently posed beside you. Even if you had held out your hand the men in the room were too stunned to step up to help you. This allowed a soft, devilish smile to form on your painted lips as they performed exactly as you had planned. Finally your gem encrusted slipper touched the hardwood, parting the crowd before the spell was broken by the announcement of the rest of your family. The room let out a collective breath and instantly erupted in hot gossip. All of it falling on deaf ears as you grabbed onto a flute of trusted champaign. 

From across the room you felt burning garnet eyes on you, you met them briefly before sipping at your bubbly beverage. He begins to cross the sea of bodies when a large man steps into your view. 

His eyes are cold as they bore into you, a shining sapphire paired with a smokey quartz. Distaste curdles your stomach as you fight to keep your face neutral and your eyes trained on him. Fans block painted lips as they spread more gossip about the man before you. 

"Is she ensnaring another Duke's son?" 

"She is becoming too haughty for a Baron's daughter." 

"Do you think she insulted the Crown with her entrance?" 

"Would you allow me your first dance?" His deep voice cuts through the vultures' cries pulling you back to him. He has your glittering left hand in his. Brining the dazzling glove to his lips in greeting, there is no joy in his gemstone gaze. 

The hot rage bears its teeth again as it surges through your blood like liquid fire, burning so hot it felt cold as it licked at your bones. Your lip barely twitches, No poised on your tongue as your father's grating voice echoes in your head. 

"Think of your ailing mother...would you abandon her for such vile, pointless ambitions?" 

And so your mouth finally forms the words. 

"You may."  He looks surprised, surrounding faces mirror his own before he fully takes your hand. Guiding you to the floor during one of your favorite songs that you always sat out as no dance partner ever dared the secret, advanced steps. You were steeling yourself for disappointment 

Shoto's grip on your body is tight but not uncomfortable as he sweeps you across the dance floor, twirling you, guiding you as he holds your gaze. His stare is heavy and intense in a different manner from Bakugou's with a hint of something that could be mistaken as flirtatious. But you saw it for what it was, discontent. 

As the song pushed on the discontent seemed to change into something new entirely as he showcased your skill while hiding his own. Allowing you to twirl away from him in several rotations that would make even the most skillful dancer fearful of misstep and yet you breathed in the music as if it were precious air. Neither of you notice how the other dancers give you room, allowing for more twirls and advanced steps as the two of you are becoming lost to the music. His fingers brush your bare skin as he pulls you back to him for  guided, sharp steps as the music heightens. His skin brushes yours again, electricity thrums beneath the pads of his fingers before he sends you into another dizzying rotation but to you it was nothing. Briefly you wonder if this were a test until you see the soft smile on his lips when you return to his arms safely for the final set of guided steps before the music were to abruptly end, just as the dance was intended. His eyes were glued to yours the entirety of the dance, softening with each step. 

Both of you stop in beat with the last soaring note panting as the movement seems to catch up with the two of you. Neither of you realize how quiet the room is until clapping comes from the royal dais high above the room, the rest of the crowd follows suit. Shock melts into a smile as your eyes return to his. A sharp pain rings out in his chest. 

"Not bad for a Baron's daughter." Disgust settles on your face faster than you can stop it spewing from your lips. 

"Not bad for a recluse of a Duke's son." You tilt your head up, fighting the snarl of your lip as his face becomes so mind numbingly neutral while his eyes darken. Shoto drops you off by your mother only for Bakugou to approach, swiftly bringing you to the floor for a slow song. 

"Starlight. How did I not know you could dance like that?" He is astonished by your skill, "I've never seen you so happy. Maybe the Duke of Winter's third son will do you justice yet." 

You scoff but all Bakugou can do is offer you a deadly smile. 

"Enough about my dead end dancing." Your eyes glance towards the dias, the Princess cannot look away from the two of you, "This should be enough for the Princess to want to dance soon." 

It is Bakugou's turn to scoff. 

"Are you sure she is even going to have the opportunity to dance? No one is even allowed on the stairs to their enclave." 

"Ah but this is her debut. The Queen will allow it, besides the princess cannot keep her gaze off of a certain ash blonde." 

"How could she ever?" Your laugh rings out, it warms even the coldest hearts as Bakugou pulls you closer to him. Heat radiates from his body in a calming manner, your fingers squeeze his. 

"Arrogant as ever." You smile, thinking how you will miss dancing with him or even having him at the back of your parlor to laugh with over sad attempts at your hand, "Remember once you take her one dance for the night, she must be your first and last dance of the night in the future, if not your only." 

Bakugou cannot hide the dejection in his eyes even as he feigns cockiness. 

"I am a well versed student, remember?" His fingers brush over your skin, his middle finger tracing a small circle. 

"The best student I could ask for." The music comes to a close on more than just the song as Bakugou returns you to your family. He presses a long kiss to your glittering glove. 

"Until we meet again, my Starlight." He holds your stare. 

"Until then my Grace." With that the night sets into motion as you turn down dances left and right. Eyeing a ruby haired man who twirls a certain countess in his hands. As the music ends the Queen stands earning a hushed crowd. 

"My daughter, the Royal Princess shall take the dance floor, she will only allow one dance on the night of her debut." It is not a shock that she is allowed so little but there is no worry on Bakugou's face. The princess straightens at the top of the stairs, trying to exude the same commanding energy you did. She falls short in power but outshines you in other wordly innocence and grace. As if she were a lily that only bloomed for the moon, her beauty unmatched in her pale pink dress. Carefully she guides the layers of it down the steps as diamonds and pearls drip from her hair and throat. She tries to keep her eyes from sticking to a broad shouldered man and yet at the same time from wandering, as she stares at the back wall of the room. 

As she nears the third step Bakugou struts towards his prize with the ease of a relaxed swagger, glaring at men as he passes before he reaches the bottom of the steps. Extending his hand to the Princess just as she hits the third step from the bottom. She cannot keep the smile off of her face as her gloved hand claps onto his bare fingers. He bows deeply, raising her hand above him to look from beneath long lashes before he brings his lips to the silk. 

"Your Royal Highness, my shining diamond. You are truly the envy of the night." A flush gives the Princess' lack of experience away, "May I have this dance?" 

"You may." It is a breathy answer before Bakugou sweeps her off of her feet. Charming her with each calculated step and  arrogant quip. The princess smiles wide and almost pouts once the music begins to ebb. Bakugou returns her to the stairs, supporting her hand as long as he can before she rises out of reach.

But to Bakugou she never was and never will be unattainable. 

Before the night is over an envelope is pressed into your hands with the Crown's seal pressed into the wax. You quirk your brow, tucking it away to be read at home. 

"I am so elated you came." Her voice is like honey as the butler opens the doors to a parlor so large it could hold your entire home. She guides you towards a small table and fights with the layers of her silk dress before sitting.

"How could I reject a personal invitation from her majesty?" You sit across from her, eyes going over the deck of cards and a set of tea. 

"Well, believe it or not, I do not have the pleasure of friends, so please call me Amila." 

"Everyone would desire to be a friend of the Crown, your Royal Highness." You counter, quickly she points her fan towards you, tapping your side of the small ornate card table. 

"Ah but you do not have the desire to befriend the Crown, so I have high hopes that you will befriend me for me." She smiles, a certain gleam to her eye before she says, "Now let's talk about handsome Bakugou and how well you played me." 

Your face gives nothing away as you look up from the cards you've been dealt. Your mind rushes down all possible avenues but you know to avoid the one of playing dumb. It is obvious that the Princess has a keen eye. 

"Surely you'll reveal to me what gave us away." 

"After that dance Bakugou had with me, had I been anyone else he would have returned to you. He either has his only dance with you or his last dance with you. I figured him or Lord Kirishima to be heavily interested in you. You are a sparkling gem amongst the coal down there so I know you have many callers and suitors. But the last to leave are always Lord Bakugou and Lord Kirishima. That is what has thrown me off the scent."  You laugh at her honesty of the knowledge she has obviously collected about you or was tactful enough to guess. 

"This is what we do, your Royal Highness." Your gloved hand gestures to the table, "I take them for all that they are worth." An honest giggle leaves Amilia's lips.

"For that I am grateful and some would dare say I am in your debt." 

"A brazen statement." Your eyes return to your cards, "I would not state it as a debt although I am happy to receive your gratitude. Especially since it is in the form of cards and cake." 

A laugh falls from her lips as a smile settles on yours. The round of cards continues. You win the first few rounds and then Amelia has a lucky hand. Winning the last white tea macaron. 

"Did you allow me to best you?" 

"Lady Luck just happened to take favor of the Crown." 

"Or maybe she took pity. " She smiles, fingers fidgeting nervously, "Would you care to admire the art? Mother allows me to have this as my own personal parlor so I decorate it as I wish." 

"I would love to admire some of these lovely paintings. Starting with the one behind you." You stand, heading to the large piece you had been eyeing for some time during the games. You could tell by the stroke of the brush that the artist was newer to painting but they were quite talented, the strokes almost went unnoticed even by your sharp eye. 

Most importantly were the emotions the work of art evoked from the viewer. 

Silently the two of you drank in the large oil painting. The canvas colored in deep pinks, reds and oranges as the sun laid to rest to allow its lover the full scope of the sky. Shadows stretched far and towards the viewer and if one paid close attention they would notice the black cat in the corner with two large moon eyes. 

You especially liked this painting, the ease it made you feel even earning a small smile. 

"I can already tell this one is by far my favorite, your Royal Highness you have a fine eye for art." She blushes at your compliment, twisting some of her low hanging hair. You keep your amusement of her flustering to yourself, eyes trained on the swirling colors of the rippling blue mirror of the sky, looking for a signature. 

Odd, there isn't a looping set of initials in the corner like most have. As if reading it on your face she speaks. 

"I- I am the artist…" It is shy and soft, unlike the Princess and you realize the weight of the truth. That she had not heard one genuine compliment of anything that she had ever done. 

All she would ever receive is flattery and only for the hopes of kindness from the Crown. Finally time swallows up her sudden meekness as she blurts out.  

"Are you sure Lord Bakugou is not in love with you? I know you fancy Lord Todoroki, Doctor Shoto." 

"I do not fancy the Doctor, he simply is the most logical option I have currently, he would make a fine partner and husband. The seasons have not brought anyone new and my days of spring are limited." You idly move to the next painting as you speak, "As far as Lord Bakugou, he and I are too much alike. Too ambitious for our own good, we'd either explode or implode I'm afraid. Like some tragic star in the vast galaxy." 

"You would not marry for love?"  

"It is best to marry for a strong partnership, love is a possible byproduct, however it proves to be a rarity. Love comes with time, your Royal  Highness, a luxury us women do not have." You glance her way, "Not even a Princess is immune to this unfortunate condition from which all women suffer." 

"But he looks at you with intense burning, with...love." 

A quiet moment passes between the two of you before you offer your honesty. 

"He would learn to look at you that way, more than he would see the Crown. Especially with your mind and artistic skill. He would be a fool not to fall for you." Her eyes water at your response, "Come, let me teach you how to best Bakugou at his favorite card game, Amelia."  

When you return home later that afternoon Bakugou is fidgeting outside of the manor causing your brow to furrow. Then it dawns on you that one of your brother's has a big mouth and told his Grace where you would be. 

"My Lord." 

"Starlight." He offers you a strong arm and you take it as he guides you up the stairs and into the parlor just off the foyer. 

"Are you here to gossip?" You trust Bakugou enough to go without a chaperone, besides the doors to the parlor are wide open. You sink into your writing chair as he takes his normal seat by your side. The plush cushions do not ease his twitching fingers before you give him a playful shove. 

"Out with it then!" You giggle, the sound pulls a devilish smirk from the blonde seemingly easing whatever troubled his mind. He leans back into the cushions. 

"So, how much did her Highness speak of me? Endless compliments no doubt." His teeth flash white as you roll your eyes. 

"And here I thought you had a pressing matter." You move to turn away from him to focus on writing but he grabs onto your knee. Giving it a gentle squeeze as his face gives him away. The tips of his ears burn before he clears his throat. 

"I have to show you something and I need your honest opinion." Silence is his answer as you patiently wait for him to produce the mystery item. Slowly he reaches into his pocket, a black velvet box is in his hands. A smile blooms on your lips as you anticipate the ring he must have picked for the princess. He opens the box and your heart free falls into your stomach. 

It is a pear shaped black diamond flanked by silvery diamonds that wink in the afternoon sun. At the top of the circle of diamonds was a deep red garnet that looked like a drop of blood. The ring felt powerful if it could make one feel such a thing. You fist your skirts as you collect yourself.  He watches your face contort as you look over the ring, his jaw ticking with worry as you assess what is essentially both his ego and pride. 

But the ring is breathtaking, perfect really. 

"Katsuki, it is a gorgeous ring…" Your voice trails as you admire it, "But I believe the princess to have less...moody tastes. She does not normally wear dark colors." 

A small silence stretches between the two of you, almost as if he expects something else, quickly he snaps the box shut. 

"This is why I ask you things, my stunning Starlight." He pulls out a red velvet box popping it open. This ring is beautiful as well but does not have your heart as much as the first. 

It is a stunning and giant marquise cut white diamond. Blinding in the light with a halo of pale pink diamonds. It is vibrant, radiant like the princess. Katsuki always did pick out the perfect jewelry to match a woman's tastes. Bakugou watches your face carefully, the sad smile that pulls your lips upward causes a deep ache in his chest. His jaw ticks again but you answer before he can even think to lash out. 

"Your Grace, this will surely win her heart." He looks you in your eyes, a flash of an emotion you cannot quite catch before his arrogance returns. 

"Indeed it shall. We can discuss the best date to ask another time." He closes the box and tucks them both away, he grabs your left hand, fingers ghosting over the bracelet he gave you, "You seem tired, you should get some rest." 

"I believe that to be a grand idea." You say softly as he kisses each knuckle. He squeezes your fingers. 

"My life would be dark without you my Starlight." You fight to keep the bitterness out of your voice as you reply. 

"Soon you will have a shining diamond to light up your life." 

"Only thanks to you." With that he takes his leave. 

With burning eyes you add to your manuscript, foolishly writing a love story as your other novels have been completed. The candle dwindles as the hours pass before your hunched shoulders ache from the poor posture and lack of movement. You stretch, yawning as you do before you decide to head to bed. 

Expecting an empty foyer you are surprised to see your father looming in the hall, your mother standing solemn by his side. Her fingers clutch at her pearls as your eyes catch sight of bags at their feet. It is not unusual for them to leave in the middle of the night in order to keep the severity of your mother's health from the limelight. 

"Is there troubling news?" Anxiety twitches in your fingers as you clasp them together. Although your father's next words make your fingers want to wrap around his thick neck. 

"We have been invited for an extended stay at Duke Enji's manner in the countryside in hopes the two of you will court one another." 

"Father that is scandalous in itself." 

"Not if an engagement comes of it. Which one will, whether you fall for him or not, young lady. The matter has been decided among the men." His words sting like a slap in the face. Where most would cry you lash out. 

"Oh, I get it. Per usual the men can think with nothing more than what hangs between their legs, fearful that theirs is not long enough. So the men do all that they can to control everything but their own fragility." You step towards your father and he takes a step back, "Or is it more gruesome than that? One blackmailing the other? I just cannot imagine the ambitious Duke wanting a Baron's daughter for his son. Unless his family is so far in decline he must place the weight on his new heir and bride." 

His eyes widen unnaturally before he is frothing at the mouth. 

"YOU WILL NOT SPEAK OUT OF TURN. YOU WILL LEARN YOUR DAMN PLACE. " He slaps you, causing a hush to fall over your family. Your eyes are wide with animalistic rage as you lunge only for Hendrix and Hideki to hold you back. Both strong men begin dragging you away.

"Forgive her, Father." Hendrix starts before Hideki finishes, "You know how the heat gives women a touch of hysteria."

"We will help her pack her bags." 

All the while your mother looks at her husband in horror.  The sight falls beneath the stairs before you are shoved onto your bed. 

"Sister!" Hendrix roars while the youngest brother looks flustered, worried, "What were you thinking? You know how closed minded father is." 

Hideki cuts the eldest a look before he adds. 

"We are just worried. Normally you keep your wrath at bay." 

"As much as it may come as a surprise. I am only human." You rise from the bed asking Rose to prepare you a trunk. To pack anything, that you did not care as you sat at your desk furiously writing. Your bothers watch you with curious eyes as the tension seems to subside before they take their leave.

Minutes tick by before you're standing in the foyer. Father and mother were already sitting in the carriage that waited outside under the cover of misty rain. Hendrix and Hideki stand awkwardly by the round table in the middle of the foyer. Pretending to fuss over lavish flowers Lord Bakugou had sent that morning. A beautiful arrangement of roses and hydrangeas, two of your favorites, the Lord knew of them through observation alone. You wait patiently until one brother makes eye contact with you. Hideki breaks first, guilt shining in his eyes as it threatens to spill over. It is obvious he does not want you to leave the house, his normally crooked smile falters. You cup his cheek, smiling up at your sentimental younger brother, he acts as if you will never come back. 

Maybe there is some truth in that. 

"Cry not, for I have an iron will while father's is but made of glass." You swipe the tear, before pressing two letters into his chest, "Besides I have an important task for you." 

"Is it your scheming?" Hendrix chides and you laugh in answer before continuing. 

"These are for Lord Bakugou and Lord Kirishima, it is imperative you deliver these letters." The paper contained important instructions for not only a successful proposal but a marriage as well. 

You'd be damned if all three of you would turn out miserable. 

"I'll put them in the post." 

"No hand deliver them." Your eyes turn icy causing both brothers to go rigid, "And should I find out the seal has been broken before their arrival I shall take the family jewels from between your legs."

"Is that any way for a lady to talk, my dearest sister?" A jest in an attempt to lighten your souring mood. 

"Yes, it is."

"They will be in their hands by this evening. We are wagering on a fight tonight. Enjoy your stay." Hideki leans in close with a tease but his voice almost cracks, "Make sure the rock is huge." 

"Indeed." Hendrix agrees with an almost sad look in his eye, leaving you to wonder what it is that they know and you do not. 

Well, you do know why they have such long faces, you just do not care to admit. You wave to them and their eyes catch on the silvery reflection of diamonds on your wrist. 

The manner is stifling to say the least. The large, grand thing is as your trunk is set in your room that overlooks a small garden and the long sweeping hill that leads home. You pace your room before a knock comes at your door. 

Hoping to ignore it, having not the desire to speak to a soul, your feet quiet. You listen for them to retreat but instead a louder knock sounds out. Before his grating voice floats from beneath the door and through the keyhole. 

"I know you are in there, my lady." 

Ugh, that stupid doctor stood on the other side of the door. Still you ignore him. 

"It is rude to ignore your host."  It ignites something in your stomach before you rip the door open. Eyes ablaze as Todoroki stands perfectly still in his onyx black suit sans jacket. White sleeves rolled up showcasing his strong forearms. 

"Surely, a good host would not force his guests to his estate?" 

"A good host would not mention how unwanted their guest is." His smile is sickeningly polite, eyes as cold as yours. It is hard to keep your composure as you breathe in deeply through your nose, eyes widening before you slam the door in his face. 

Only once you hear his footfalls retreat and the moon shines long on your floor boards do you finally make your way towards the door. A woman on a mission as you yank the door open, uncaring that you were not in much but a thick white nightgown that could be mistaken for a dress.  You rush for the stairs and through the door just off their back parlor, having memorized it from the long winded tour both your father and his Grace Enji insisted the small party take of the grounds. 

A cool summer breeze whips your hair this way and that as it dries the sweat that sits at your nape. Normally people would describe this feeling as miserable, that even the breeze had a bit of heat to it, but you. 

You lived for it. Twirling in the moonlight you allow yourself a moment for vulnerability you often cannot afford before you go deeper on the grounds, closer to the woods that lie just beyond the manor. 

Once you are at the edge you give the grand home a glare with your back towards the woods. The creatures of the night sing their symphonies well into the late hour. A twig snaps behind you cause you to turn about face, your eyes meet with lavender framed beneath light lashes. 

Ice runs through your blood as you faintly recall him speaking of these trees by his own countryside manor. He often went to these grounds to hunt. 

So why was he standing on the Todoroki grounds? 

"So it is true?" Monoma chokes out an ugly sound. It is between defeat and a snarl. He takes a step closer, "Whisked away in the night. Did Todoroki steal your maiden head from me?" 

Your eyes widen at his scandalous accusation and it is then you see how truly disheveled he is. Hair plastered to his forehead, his canary suit stained green from foliage. The fabric even darkening beneath his armpits and at his collar, it sends a sort of frantic look to his eye. He steps forward and for once in your life you yield, stepping back. 

"That is a damning accusation." You fight to keep the cracking rage from your voice, the small fear that blooms in your belly like poison nightshade. Swallowing thickly he steps forward. 

"He, he can't take what's mine. I- I was going to propose today. But that damn Bakugou is always lingering around like toxic gas. Poisoning your mind with his….ambitions." It is then you see red. 

How dare anyone thing you were so fucking fragile and innocent some young blonde could corrupt you. Your palm strikes his cheek with enough force that he is facing away from you. You strike again and then as you rear up your fist he pulls you to him. Pressing his whisky soaked lips to yours as he swallows you whole. Mouth extended over your lips, sloppily engulfing you as he makes sounds that make you want to retch. His tongue slides past your lips and you bite.

Not enough that he loses it, although you wish you could afford to do such a thing. But you still lived in a society where a man's word was far more valuable than that of a "whore." Shaking you pull back, so much rage that you do not see the flash of light until it is too late. 

"Fucking bitch!" He slashes at your nightgown, cutting the fabric away as you think you've doged, he goes to slash again, "God damn whore!" 

His voice echoes through the trees and that scares you more than the knife in his hand, his sloppy demnor creates an opening as you kick him so hard between his legs he falls to the ground, puking up his belly full of liquor onto the moss floor. 

Suddenly the summer night is too hot, the frogs and crickets too loud as an owl calls deep within the wood. Thunder roars overhead before the clouds become too heavy. Panic slicks your skin before the pounding rain as you turn to run, hopping you kicked hard enough to rupture something in this cowardly man. 

If you lived in any other world, you would have tried your best to seize that knife and plunge it into his chest. 

But you didn't, so you ran. Vision blurring as the pain finally catches up to you. Hand instinctively flying to your stomach only to come up wet. 

"It's the rain, it's just the rain." You gasp out rushing into the house and shutting the glass paned door as quickly and quietly as you can. Fumbling for a lock before you give up all together, arms outstretched in the dim room looking for a candle or a mirror. Shaking fingers find a match that you light using the wallpaper, uncaring of the risks as you frantically look for a stick of wax. Lighting the wick once you've found one and taking it to the mirror above a small runner table. You set the wax down, close to the glass, thunder shakes the windows and the house as you pull the fabric from your torso. It reveals an angry red slash that weeps crimson, a choked gasp leaves your lips as lightning flashes illuminating the whole room. Still you do not see the reflection of the man in the mirror. 

"What happened?" It sounds animalistic as it comes from the corner. Your whirl to face him, pulling the cloth back down to cover your decency. A lie falls from your lips as easy as breath. 

"Nothing." Your rasp, feigning embarrassment, "My-my courses have come early. Your Grace this is not something you should witness." 

"Do you take me for a fool?" He steps closer, eyes burning in the candle light, "I may not be an expert of female anatomy but I know the basics." 

You swallow thickly, trying to jest. 

"Then my Lord you are far more experienced than myself. I am bashful to be in the presence of a skilled womanizer. This truly is nothing." He closes the distance, wrapping his deadly hand around your small wrist. Pulling it away from your body.

"That laceration does not look like 'nothing'." He mocks, "I will not ask again." 

Silence engulfs you as the storm rages on, it competes with the roaring in your head. Your knees slowly buckle as Shoto keeps you up right. His winter's night by the hearth scent floods your senses. 

"I feel a bit faint." Your voice sounds so small, so far away that it stirs something in Todoroki. In the year that he has watched you, he has not once seen your falter or become meek. He makes way to scoop you into your arms and is a mixed of relieved and agitated as you swat him away. 

"I-I can walk." You straighten your back, smoothing the reddening fabric over your bodess and for once you're thankful the blasted nightgown is so thick. He gently guides you to your room. 

Once there he prepares a basin as you try to sit on the plush bed. 

"Aht!" He whispers harshly, "Change." 

You relax into the foot of the bed anyway, unable to hold yourself up right any longer. He sucks his teeth, bringing the supplies to the bedside table before searching through your trunk. 

"A Lady's things should not just be rummaged through." 

"Hmm is that so?" He finds another night gown before he hovers over you, face pinched as he asks, "Can you undress yourself, truthfully?"

Moments pass before you admit that you are not sure that you can with a shake of your head. Slowly he eases you out of the damp fabric, dabbing at your wet skin with a towel. He avoids looking at your breasts and as much as he would love to stare a weeping wound commands his attention. He places the gown just enough to hide your breasts before he lies you down on your back. 

"From beginning to end, tell me what happened." When you do not answer he forces your chin to face him, "Tell me, now." 

And your name slips off his lips like poisoned honey, a truth serum you swallow whole. You retell the quick exchange, including the damning kiss as you watch rage blister across Shoto's handsome features as he silently begins to work. 

"We must  prosecute him."

"We must not!" You exclaim as he dabs antiseptic at your wound. He gives your an exasperated

"What would have happened if he had nicked an internal organ?"

"I suppose I would be free of this wretched world." A nonchalant shrug as best as you can manage.a glare cuts your way as his roar turns soft.   

"Why would you say such a thing? Do you think no one would mourn the loss of you? Do you think he would not weep at your service?" Shoto touches the bracelet of dancing stars and you pull your wrist back. Tears burning your eyes, you do not allow them to fall. 

"He is not up for discussion!" It's a loud whisper before you grip Shoto's jaw with enough force it grinds, "I am more than capable of taking care of myself, Lord. You can take your leave as I do not need a soul."

He melts as he watches the pain flutter in your eyes, a long sigh escapes him as he melts into your touch. His fingers feathering over your forearm.

"Pride is a deadly sin. Allow me to help. I will be quick." Slowly you drop your arm away from him. He digs around in his bag before you change your mind. He disinfects the sutures before he sends the needle through tender flesh, your tears dry as you allow your mind to retreat. Shoto takes quick notice. 

"You do that a lot…" He comments softly, pulling the suture through your skin, you glance his way, "You seem to disassociate." 

"Well, feelings hurt so it is better to not feel at all." You grind your teeth as he pulls the widest part of your wound together. 

"Is that why you push him away so often?" He holds your gaze before returning to his work.

"Did I not tell you that he is not up for discussion. No matter, I do not have feelings for Lord Bakugou." He scoffs at your lie. 

"Ah so then it was not you who suggested the Princess in the form of flattery? Lord Bakugou is a smart man but you played into his blind spot, stroking his ego and enticing his ambition." Your gritted teeth say it all. 

"And how pray tell would you even guess at such grandor things when you are not in attendance at even half of these events?"

"I am privy to this knowledge because I too keep everyone and everything at arm's length. It is much easier to see the moves when one is far enough away from the board." He dabs at your abdomen, "And you my Lady are by far the best player." 

"Flattery does not go far with me." You sigh softly,  fingers idly playing with the wrinkles in the sheets,  "Father wants me to set a final round."

"Mine wishes for me to begin and end in the same turn." He slowly places your nightgown down, "Which is why we should make an effort to at least get to know one another. With your wound I suggest staying an extra week or two to ensure it closes properly. I can convince our Wardens that the extension is for an attempt to win your hand."

He leans back in his chair, sweat on his brow from fusing with your wound, from worry as it furrows. Your chest tightens and suddenly the urge to be in control sinks its teeth into your skin. Quickly you unclasp the birthday present Lord Katsuki had given you, setting it on the nightstand beside Shoto with dramatic flare. His eyes widen as he reads between the lines, the silent vow of "I will make an effort...for now". The promise seems to pierce his heart. 

"Fine. I enjoy picnics, I suggest we do that on the grounds so that we may be chaperoned from afar and yet have privacy. My expectation is unbashful honesty from both parties." You turn over to give him your back as you pull the fine blankets to your shoulders, "Furthermore you must come up with some sort  of endearment for me. Anyone who has ever tried to seriously court me has. I have come quite fond of them as titles bore me. Something lovely so give it thought."

Shoto is stunned into silence for a moment before he lets out a dark laugh. 

"I see, this is still your game"

"Precisely." You say, he stands, lingering in the doorway before shutting the heavy oak. 

It was difficult to sleep to say the least. Still you were grateful to have risen before Rose. Dressing yourself before she could see your wound. More grateful still when Rose set down some tea claiming Lord Shoto sent it.  

You downed the scalding liquid in three swallows, surprising Rose, before she passes you a folded note. 

Meet me in the back garden for lunch. 

-Shoto 

A muscle ticks in your jaw as pain blooms across your stomach as you stare at his lovely script. 

Shoto hates to admit that the first thing he looks for is that bracelet on your wrist, when he does not see it he lets out his held breath. Drinking in your deep, sapphire dress. It sparkles as if covered in stardust, his heart clenches. He looks towards your stomach, worry etched on his features. 

"How are your stitches? No corset right?" He asks, gently guiding you to the plush pillows on the ground. Maybe he should have asked the butler to bring out chairs instead. 

"I feel naked without it." You admit, he sees a bit of nervousness you have normally schooled away. 

"You look lovely." His eyes are gentle, lips formed in a soft, genuine smile. Your heart tried to skip a beat. It's the heat you tell yourself. 

"Flattery will not get you far remember?"

"I'm only being honest, my sweet petunia." You give him a puzzled look, was this going to be his nickname for you? You were not a delicate thing. 

"A flower?" You give him a look but his smile does not falter. 

"Ah would you rather I say my dew kissed rose? My begonia?"

You both laugh at his last suggestion. 

"My sunflower." Your heart stutters, you glance away for just a moment and he takes notice. 

"Ah so you approve," He collects a strand of your hair between his fingertips, "Sunflower?" 

Heat rushes your cheeks as you fight the smile on your lips. You lose as he kisses your hair. Maybe you could be a delicate thing. 

"Did you know sunflowers can remediate soil? It is why they are planted after tobacco is harvested in hopes to use the fields once more." He is quiet as he waits for your admission. 

"It is my favorite flower, it is in season now. Alas not one suitor has sent them. Roses and hydrangeas are my favorites too but nothing quite says summer like a sunflower." You sigh, looking over the manicured bushes and flowers in the garden. 

"Is that your favorite season?" He is perceptive, you take  a moment to breathe in the sweltering breeze with closed eyes. Humming your answer. 

"Indeed." You kick off your shoes and place your feet into the grass, leaning back to allow your face in the sun. Not many women would be so open to sitting on only a blanket and with no umbrella or covering. And yet here you were soaking up the sun like a lazy cat. Heat rushes Shoto's cheeks as he realizes just how perfect his name for you is. 

"Have you ever had intercourse with a woman?" You ask, eyes still closed as Shoto flushes further. His cheeks are as red as part of his hair. 

"Sunflower." He gasps but you giggle. 

"Unbashful honesty, remember?" He lets small silence stretch between the two of you before he answers. 

"I have. My brother convinced me it was a good idea." His eyes look sad, it makes your gut clench as you look away for a moment. Question burning on your tongue. 

"What if I were to say my maiden head was taken?" 

"Who am I to judge after I have slept with another. Sadly I know some are stolen." He answers without hesitation. 

"This is true. Mine is still intact, I am grateful Monoma had only stolen a kiss." You sigh.

"You'd never kissed anyone?" His tone is curious although his eyes are dark with anger for you. 

"I tried to be a proper lady. More so because I do not like to touch people or feel their skin. Touching them makes them real, you know? And when someone is real they can have power over your heart." Shoto mulls over your words and realizes how much he relates. He places his hands near your fingers but does not touch them. You notice the gesture and scoff without the pretension you skillfully lace his fingers with his. Delighted to see the burning blush on his cheeks. 

Maybe life with Shoto would not be half bad, if only he gave you more moments like this. 

Moments like this last over the two weeks that drag into three. Days are spent  beneath the summer sun with exchanged and often heated, intellectual debates. Both of you feeling mentally stimulated for the first time as each of you allowed a few walls to come down, pulling each other closer than arm's length. While a few hours of the night are spent beneath the moon. His gem stone eyes raking over your abdomen in worry but nothing more than his checking on your wound as he was ever the gentlemen.

On Monday of the second week Shoto has come fond of his summer sunflower, so much so he brings a large black box to the next picnic, tucked away in his pocket is a matching, much smaller box. He presents to you the medium sized box as you giggle in delight. 

"My Lord, my shining Shoto. What could this be?" Your cheeks hurt from the width of your smile as he opens the box for you to see. Your face flutters into shock before joy returns as you hold out your wrist. Shoto takes the delicate golden bracelet that has several round onyx surrounded by citrine in the shape of petals. Sunflowers dance on your wrist as you twist it this way and that, unable to school your features into your normal distaste for guadry gifts from suitors. But this gift was far from gaudy, only one man before Shoto had earned this reaction. You bring your parasol to hide your face and his from the prying eyes of the manor as you gently press your lips to Shoto's cheeks. 

"I love it." You admit. It gives him enough courage to commit to ask you on Friday, the bigger question. 

Having you walk for "therapy" through the grounds, pointing over your shoulder to point out phantom ducks on the lake as he nervously sinks to one knee. 

"Shoto, love I do not see-" You turn to face him and see his loving eyes, wavering smile and shaking fingers holding open the box that reveals a giant oval ruby surrounded by diamonds.  He clears his throat. 

"My sunflower," You fling your arms around him, making him fall off balance as you land on top of him. Peppering his face with uncharacteristic kisses as excitement, for once, rushes through your veins like a second blood. He laughs lifting you by your ribs, careful of your slowly closing wound as he spins you before setting you on your feet. He fumbles for the momentarily forgotten ring before he slips it onto your ring finger. He presses a kiss to your cheek, smiling warmly. It reaches his eyes in such a way your gut clenches. 

And for a moment you forgot you were ever anyone's starlight. 

For one returning to the manor seems almost dreadful and not because of waiting suitors but because you would be without your own. He insisted the two of you be seperate as your mother and his, prepared to arrange the wedding, as you demanded the ceremony to be small. Despite your desire for to keep the engagement quiet for just a week or so, your mother and father took it upon themselves to spread word back home before you could even arrive. 

You exit the carriage as the house looks quiet, earning a soft smile. Your ring catches your eye and you remind yourself that this truly was the best possible outcome. 

The foyer is covered in flowers, from congratulations to a giant trove of sunflowers on the center table. 

You smile at the flowers Shoto must have sent this morning, they sit in a glass globe of a vase, their usually tall stems cut short. Their flower heads are large and vibrant even in the ambient candle light. You finger a petal as you reminisce over the past few weeks, your stomach hardly protesting as you stand on tip toe to look at them all. Relishing the moment of silence before you realize you are most likely home alone. Your brothers lost in some fighting match while your parents took their leave from the Todoroki manor to busy themselves with venues. You figured a change of clothes would do you nicely before you settled down over your much neglected work. 

A black nightgown and almost sheer robe clung to your frame as you stepped down the grand staircase, smiling once more at the flowers before slipping into your parlor. Lighting only one other candle by the door before taking yours to your desk. With deft hands you pull out one of your manuscripts and tap along the top with a manicured nail. A sigh leaves your lips, you finger with your bracelet, with the ring on your finger before a fresh page is found on your desk. You write furiously. 

About something as trivial as love. 

Still the quil seems to move on its own as if enchanted as words dot the parchment in ink. Suddenly your work is disturbed by someone entering your parlor. You assume it is a brother who has come home, glancing up you see locks of ash blonde causing you to grip at your robe to close it tighter. The moment you realize it is just Bakugou your grip on the fabric loosens.

"I wasn't expecting you at this hour." Fear of needing a chaperone barely crosses your mind since it was Lord Bakugou who was your company. You relax into your seat as he crosses the room to sit in his normal seat, on the corner of the couch, closest to you. His posture is poor as he leans his forearms on thick thighs, garnet eyes cast downward, he grips at his own hands as his knuckles turn white. You wonder if he did not heed your letter. 

"How did the proposal go with Princess Amelia?" Your voice sounds out over the silence of the room, still he remains quiet. It is unnerving how solemn and silent the normally wolfish man is. Something pulls at the strings of your heart. His eyes seem misty. He keeps them to the ground or so you think, as they rake over the ring on your finger, on the bracelet on your wrist. The onyx and citrine dance in the low light of your burning candle. Bakugou feels a sheen of sweat coat his hands, bile rising in his throat that he has to swallow down. 

You think the worst, you think the Princess rejected him but that didn't make sense either. She was so obviously in love with the ambitious man, you heard while away that she even turned down a dance with a forgein prince. 

"What's wrong, Katsuki?" The way your voice forms around his name, the way your eyes look with unbiased worry causes Katsuki's limbs to act on their own. In one swift motion he cups your face in his broad hands, bringing his lips to yours so softly. Once the plush of your lips touch his he cannot stop as his hunger for you comes to the forefront. He kisses you with a fervor unmatched as his lips move yours, his hand moves to the back of your neck. Tilting your head so he may deepen the kiss, tongue sliding over yours as the world falls from beneath your feet.  

But as quickly as it fell it returns, pushing him away while turning to face away from him. You keep your head held high as he pants on the couch beside you. He grabs your thigh, desperate for touch, for anything but rejection. 

"Starlight." His voice is deep, rough from what might be disuse as it cracks on the second syllable. A question runs rampid in your mind.  How long had he felt like this? 

"Please, my starlight." He squeezes your smooth thigh and you look towards him. Watch his force contort with pain, as if you held his beating heart in his hands and crushed it.  

Really it is what he had done to you, as you look down at him with hot tears. 

He is the first and only soul to see you cry in decades. It seemingly tears him about but he brought this among himself. 

The kiss is answer enough as to why he is here. 

It should not be this tempting to throw it all away. 

"Get. Out." You seethe, fat droplets catching on your sheer robe, falling down your cheeks as if you were an actress going through a tragic scene. He does not move, does not breathe as he hopes your temper will cool. 

Instead it heats. 

"Get out, Get OUT. GET OUT GET OUT!!" More composure lost with each increase of volume before you completely lose it, "FUCKING GET OUT!" 

He hardly moves and the ruckus calls alarm for your brothers who were home, who let Bakugou in at such a late hour. They come from the office across the hall in hurried steps, expecting to see an assailant, hoping that Bakugou could fight them off. 

They silently determine what they see is far worse. Bakugou gripping at your thighs with this pleading look while your face is now firmly buried in your hands. A sob racks through your body setting your brothers ablaze. 

Hendrix speaks first. 

"What did you do?!" His eyes are flaming as he sets them on Bakugou, who ignores the two men. Hideki begins to close the distance and his eldest brother follows suit. 

"What have you done to make my lovely sister cry?" Hideki's voice is full of hurt, disappointment and when they receive no answer they decide it is time to remove your true assailant. 

Both grab at Bakugou, pulling him away from the couch as you wet your palms with years worth of tears. 

Everything in your life, no matter how hard you tried to conduct it, was truly wrong wasn't it? 

The fresh swirling ink on the pages answered you enough, the love story you did not know you needed with a protagonist with soft ash blonde hair. 

"Please. Do not make me BEG!" He yells as your brothers' sad attempt at forcing him from the room topples furniture and the like. 

Still you weep your self pity away. 

His next words are deafening  as your heart finally cleaves apart, the pieces falling to the floor before shattering like glass at your feet. He brandishes the black velvet box with the black diamond ring tucked inside as you finally look up to him. 

"IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN YOU, STARLIGHT!"

[still-a-morosexual-help]

I wrote this as a reply on my own post before but I wanted it to be it's own post too

It's in reply to @obeymeblogstuff saying the brothers need to stop being assholes to Mammon over his sin when they're all just as bad as him at keeping their sins under control which is 100% right and I agree with them all the way BUT I wanna add on so bare with me:

((And NO this is not me trying to justify their actions, it's me discussing the reasons behind them))

First, yes this exactly!

BUT also,

I do understand where their frustration comes from considering Mammon's sin hurts them fairly often while their own sins usually only affect themselves aka Mammon stealing and selling their stuff (I love him to death, my whole blog's practically dedicated to him but I'd be pissed if I had to live my entire life with someone who constantly stole and sold my stuff).

BUT,

I do think (probably because of how many times he's done it) this clouds their judgment of him?

As in they see his sin as being worse than it really is (aka they think he gives into it more than he really does) so even when he's not doing something """scummy""" they assume he is (ex: the Too Many Insults devilgram).

And honestly Mammon acts against his Greed fairly often (probably more times than any of the others, with the exception of Satan, act against their sin) with the way he's always just buying things for MC, the way he's actually paying for all the needs of a human child and plans to do so until she's an adult, the way he bought Levi that figurine when he was upset, or bought Beel & Belphie their human world outfits, or how he insisted on keeping the bracelet from Luke despite knowing that if he didn't break it off he could lose all the money he just won, how he bought them all food at the summer festival, or bought a rare alcohol for simeon for his birthday, or got Lucifer's necklace back from Cerberus just so he could return it to Lucifer.

Right so the second part of this:

Lucifer treats Mammon the harshest BECAUSE he's Lucifer's favourite and I'm 100% sure this is canon.

Like I said before, Mammon's Sin is the one that's most destructive to other people as well, not JUST his brothers but for anyone he deals with meaning it has the highest possibility of causing trouble/bringing danger/breaking the rules and pissing off someone of authority (Diavolo).

The last time Lucifer relaxed the reigns on one of his siblings and let them break the rules, she pissed off the person in charge and she died and I'm 100% sure Lucifer never got over this.

And yes, Diavolo adores Lucifer and his brothers and would never even think of killing them BUT even back in S1 Lucifer didn't he believe this, he'd rather be safe than sorry. I bet back in the Celestial Realm he never would have imagined their Father being okay with killing Lilith either, so this time around he's not gonna stake his siblings' lives on how much someone else claims to love them even if that someone else is his best friend who cares about them all. So Lucifer goes out of his way to punish them: to both discourage them from committing the same wrong twice and to show Diavolo that since Lucifer's handling their punishment, Diavolo needn't step in with something more harsh and permanent.

And this is pretty much confirmed and seen in that series of chats where Mammon tries to steal the Demon King's treasure and actually genuinely pisses off Diavolo, and Lucifer in a private chat more or less pleads with Diavolo to not punish Mammon and let Lucifer deal with it.

But yeah, like with the others Lucifer's perception of the severity of Mammon's Sin is clouded, but this time it's not just by how badly and frequently Mammon's Sin occurs but also by his own fears making his punishments for Mammon insanely out of proportion with the actual crimes. Aka just locking Belphie up in the attic for trying to start a war and KILL the entire human race vs literally torturing Mammon for eating an éclair from an unmarked box meant for Diavolo.

So yeah, Lucifer has his ptsd related reasons for treating Mammon the way he does BUT he goes way too far and should really take a chill pill (and go to therapy too)

Overall, people need to be nicer to Mammon because he doesn't deserve any of this shit and I'm glad MC's willing to throw hands for him

[sugamamacustard]

One more time

Pairing:  Alpha! Toru Oikawa x Omega! Reader

Genre: Fluff! (Sorry, no NSFW this time! I just couldn’t fit it!)

Request: Hi 👋 May I request an Alpha Oikawa x Omega reader scenario where they already have a pup and Oikawa wants another. How he would he be with his pregnant omega and his pups ?I'm sorry if this is confusing, ABO Au is one of my favourites but I have never made a request before so I'm not sure how to explain? Fluff, NSFW you can write it however u like THANK YOU 💕

Summary: You loved your small little family, but your alpha felt there was something missing. 

Author’s Note: I loved this request so much??? Like, it’s so wholesome and domestic and my A’/B/O heart melts every time at Dad! Alpha! boys.  I’m super sorry as I didn’t put any NSFW into this. 

Requests: Open!

Toru Oikawa

➵  Your daughter Akemi was a blessing in every sense of the word. She was a sweetheart, happy and giggly and the absolute cutest little thing.

➵   Even if she did look like an absolute carbon copy of your husband.

➵  Her bright brown eyes and chocolate locks all copy and pasted from him.  

➵ She was precious in every way nonetheless, even if Toru rubbed it in your face every chance he got.

➵ You never got made at him though, as he was the ideal father in every sense of the word. 

➵   He made time for Akemi every day, even if he was sore and sweaty from practice—he’d shower before saying hi to her--, he’d let you have at least thirty minutes a day to yourself, more if he feels he has it down, which is almost always the case.  

➵   Toru fed her, changed her, helped you to clean up the house. You both worked like a well-oiled machine and parenthood was a breeze.

➵    It was tough at times but you both stuck to your guns, communicating efficiently about what you wanted for Akemi and her childhood.

➵    How you wanted to deal with future tantrums, what schools you were looking at for her (Neither of you were touching high schools just yet), but there was one thing that you always seemed to slip out of discussing.

➵     Siblings for Akemi.

➵    Either you never really had the time before Akemi was crying, or you and Toru were fast asleep by the time you had the chance or- there were just a multitude of things that stopped the conversation from happening. 

➵   Until Akemi’s first birthday though.  You were rocking your daughter to sleep, brushing your hand along her head and past the brown locks on her head, just reveling in the feeling of holding your pup, a sign of your and your alpha’s love for each other, even if your omega felt the smallest bit…Empty? 

➵   You knew that you and Toru wanted more children, just never got a chance to really talk about it

➵   . “Hey,” Your husbands voice purred into your ear, making you purr in response.

➵    His hands rested on your hips, holding you close as he held his daughter’s hand, running his thumb over her knuckles with such a soft and proud smile, making you just melt.

➵  “I know we haven’t talked about it in a while, but I want another.” 

➵  You laughed. “Another pup, huh?”

➵  He nodded, rounding around to take Akemi. He laid her in her crib, slowly moving to hold you close once more—his hands on your hips with yours wrapped around your neck.

➵ He kissed your forehead, resting his forehead against yours. 

➵  “Mhmm. This time they’ll look just like you with your cute little nose and beautiful eyes. Maybe even your adorable little cheeks.” You laughed, squirming when his hands came up to pinch your cheeks, enlarging your smiling face. 

➵ He let go suddenly, turning and walking out of the nursery with a smirk. “Of course, maybe the Oikawa genes just run to deep.” He chuckled, making his way to your bedroom. You merely laughed once more before following. 

___

➵ “And then when mommy’s tummy is all big and round- Pop! Out comes your new sibling. Maybe a boy or girl. I hope for a girl. Two little princesses to spoil and love.” 

➵ Akemi giggled at her father’s words, not really understanding what was going on but enjoying the attention, nonetheless. 

➵  Toru couldn’t blame her though, as he too was laughing and giggling all through the house.

➵  It had been four months since you began trying, a heat passing where Oikawa proved yet again, he was the perfect husband by tending to you and allowing his sister to watch Akemi for four days your heat was there. 

➵ She was ecstatic to hear the news of you guys trying and jumped at every opportunity to babysit for you guys.  

➵ “It’s not really a pop, but whatever you say, Daddy.” You laughed, stepping out of the bathroom, thin stick in your hands. Toru watched you expectantly, turning Akemi to look at you too.  

➵ “Ma!” Akemi preened, holding your cheeks with her small chubby hands when your nose rubbed against hers.  

➵ You crouched in front of her, holding Toru’s knees with your hands before smiling up at him.

➵  “Hope your ready to go through those nine months again.” You chuckled, Toru nearly squealing with delight as he brought you into a hug, Akemi squished carefully between you two. 

➵ “Ma!” 

➵ “Ma- Oh my god- I’m gonna be a dad again ‘Kemi! Focus on me!”

➵  “Ma!”

___

➵ You knew you married Toru Oikawa for a good reason. 

➵ Yes, he could be an asshole. 

➵ Yes, he could be the most annoying person you would ever meet.

➵  Yes, he sometimes cared too much for volleyball and-

➵ You had a point. What was it?

➵ Oh- Toru was an amazing husband through and through, despite all his flaws. He cared deeply for you, for your daughter, for your new baby (You decided to keep the gender a surprise to piss of Mattsun and Hanamaki who had a current running bet on what it would be).

➵  Every inch of his being, both alpha and not, was dedicated to your family. He was just as doting during this pregnancy as he was the last, making you purr in delight. He never wasted an opportunity to run out and grab whatever you were craving. He was even teaching Akemi to help. 

➵ She’d waddle around after you—making you watch where you are going 24/7—picking up anything you dropped and giving it the extra foot and a half that would make your life so much easier. 

➵ She picked out blankets and onesies and pacifiers, everything you would need she had a say in. And maybe it was another Blood Oikawa thing, but she had great taste. 

➵ There was a small running duckling theme in the new nursery, which was painted a pale grey, most of which was coordinated by…You guessed it.

➵  Oikawa and Akemi. 

➵For being twenty- almost twenty-one - months (A year and eight months), she was incredibly clever and smart for her age. That was all you though.

➵  No way was Toru ‘hit it till it breaks’ Oikawa the smart one in your relationship. (I live to bully this man I’m so sorry).

➵ When the first signs of labour (I’ve waited for this moment. To write about labour, as I see it done wrong all the time and as a Bio 30 student it hurts) showed up, you two began making plans to slowly prep yourself for the delivery of your new baby. 

➵ Oikawa called up his sister, who screeched—loudly into his ear when he told her about your first contractions—before agreeing to come over in case they drastically increased. You re-packed and double checked your hospital bag, making sure you had everything you didn’t during your first trip.  

➵ And you even packed Akemi her own bag for when her aunt would drop her off to meet her new sibling.  She was just as excited to meet them as you were and was constantly handing you things she would later ‘gift’ to her sibling (These included a multitude of…art that was labeled 2 bb in the cutest, but messiest scribbles you’ve ever seen). 

➵ You had to explain that when her sibling got back from the hospital, she could give them all the art she wanted as it would not all fit into the bag. She understood, watching you pack a change of clothes and pull ups for her. 

➵ She would waddle after you as you and Toru would slowly walk up and down the hallways to try and ease the pain, which was more uncomfortable than painful really.  

➵ Coos left both of you when she tied to hold onto your leg like Toru was, looking up to you with wide eyes brimmed with tears. 

➵ When active labour kicked in, she cried, hugging you both before you left. Akemi made sure to pat your belly at least one more time before waving you off, watching you both leave. 

➵ Toru was amazing the whole time, purring to you and letting you crush his hand (Yes. It was his spiking hand as he was going on paternity leave and had the time to heal. Plus, nothing would ever top his family).  

➵ When it came time to push, he was encouraging in every sense of the word, coaching you through the entire thing.

➵  He brushed off every snap you sent his way, every angry word and vile insult spat his way. He didn’t know what you were going through, just that it was painful and taxing on every part of your being. 

➵ Mentally, physically, and he was not about to start a fight with you. 

___

➵ When your son was finally handed to Toru, he cried. He’s cried a lot in his life, most in front of you, but he would always cry when it came to his family.  

➵ His son was just as small as Akemi was when she was born, but just as precious. 

➵  His face was squishy and chubby—and cone shaped—but he was adorable and you both absolutely loved him. 

➵ When Akemi got to meet him, she also cried. She loved her brother the moment they met, which you and Toru were forever grateful for, and would refuse to go more then ten feet away from him.  

➵ You ended up naming him Hiroshi, which Akemi had been trying to pronounce for as long as she’d known it.  

➵ Your little family was beautiful, and Toru was thankful for you, giving him his two bundles of absolute joy, and your love.

➵  He was entranced with you from the moment he met you and never knew his life would lead to this. He wouldn’t change it even if he had the chance. 

➵ In case you were wondering, your son ended up looking exactly like his sister and your husband. Seems the Oikawa genes run long and true.  

[iheartbookbran]

Ok so actually my biggest problem with the whole “Daenerys will burn KL” theory—not even the Mad Queen Dany theory, which is of course very sexist for obvious reasons, but just like, the idea that Dany will ~accidentally~ ignite the wildfire in the city, burning it all to the ground. That, at first, doesn’t sound that bad, but the longer I think about it the more I hate it because tbh it doesn’t do anything for her character? And also… that fate for her is just down right cruel.

Like, the most frequent argument I see on why this would be at all satisfactory for Dany’s arc is basically that it would be a sort of lesson for her about the dangers of unchecked power and the real threat the Dragons can pose on humans and that she shouldn’t use them to fight against other people. And that’s all well and good, excellent message… except that’s not something Dany’s ever really needed to learn? Not anymore that her fellow rulers, which I will touch on more detail later, but in general Dany has seen what the abuse of power can do. Starting with her conflicting feelings regarding Viserys and how she recognizes that even though he was her brother and she loved him, he also abused his power over her as her older brother, her only family and her king; she feels guilt about the atrocities Drogo committed to the lhazarene and tries to help them; she feels so much guilt about not handling things correctly in Astapor that she decides to throw away all her plans to go to Westeros and instead stays in Meereen.

And about not knowing the true danger that her dragons can pose? I mean, this is the same girl that literally agonizes across several of her ADWD chapters because Drogon killed a child, and then takes the extreme measure of caging Rhaegal and Viserion to prevent that from ever happening again. I think she’s at least a little bit aware that the dragons can be dangerous, thank you very much.

Ok so this got long...

Anyways, the only time Dany legit uses Drogon to harm someone and not just as bluff was at the house of the Undying, where she was being attacked, and in Astapor… and like, lmao, that asshole Kraznys mo Nakloz and the rest of his slaver buddies deserved it. Don’t at me. Also, Dany’s hardly the only one with a big magical and deadly beast at her disposal, why didn’t Robb had to go through some horrifying traumatic incident to learn he shouldn’t use Grey Wind in battle to tear his enemies’ throats. Bran will be learning about the dangers of abusing power, but that’s linked to his magic powers and an actual reprehensible thing he’s doing, not the use of his glorified prehistoric dog to kill, which he’s done, just like Robb. By all means let the narrative hold Dany accountable for her mistakes… but her actual mistakes and not shit she has no control over, because she doesn’t have much control over Drogon or the other dragons even though she’s trying to, and that’s very obvious in her last ADWD chapter where she’s delirious and Drogon could kill her at any moment, and she knows that.

The other big argument people make for Dany burning KL (even if it’s by accident!) is that it will teach her about the price of war, that someone as young as her shouldn’t be leading armies and conquering kingdoms, and that fighting for the Iron Throne is not a worthy cause, and I feel like that misses the actual point of her story by a mile. First of all because a) Dany is hardly the only teenage ruler in the story and b) this is a fantasy medieval story, a lot of the characters shouldn’t be doing the things they do, aaaand yet. Also speaking of other teenage rulers with far more power that they should have—Robb and Jon, being the biggest examples.

Granted, Robb and Jon aren’t exactly successful during their time as rulers, they’re literally betrayed and killed by their own men (even if Jon will technically come back for round 2 of bullshit he’s too tired for). But the moral of their stories is not that they lost because theirs was an unworthy cause and they were stupid kids wholly unprepared for their roles. And I actually partially agree! They are just kids, including Dany, and they shouldn’t be responsible for looking after so many others and going to battle, but their cause is still just and worthy, even with all the mistakes they make along the way. Robb didn’t loose because he was wrong in demanding justice for his family or trying to protect the riverlands from the Lannisters and their minions, he lost because Tywin Lannister was a giant coward who couldn’t take him out in a fair fight.

Likewise, it isn’t wrong of Jon to try to incorporate refugees from beyond the Wall into Westeros. He’s not too stupid and honorable to do politics like his father (how I hate when people insult Jon and Ned like that), and while he did some very obvious mistakes that inevitably ended in a coup and in him dying, this is more connected to his inability to let go of his ties with his family (mainly Arya or who he believes to be her), and in isolating himself from his friends and the people he could actually trust.

I’ve always thought that Dany and Jon share a parallel narrative within the story, so while Jon is struggling with that Dany is faced with similar problems. She cages her dragons, that to her represent the only family she has left, and she tries to compromise with the slavers, marry a man she doesn’t love, pretend she’s ok with reopening the fighting pit. While she tries her best to rule wisely in Meereen, it all comes at the cost of betraying herself and her beliefs, so it’s no surprise when it all crashes around her and she’s betrayed and nearly killed. Ironically, it is Drogon who comes to rescue her.

If they are monsters, so am I.—Daenerys II, ADWD.

This is hands down one of my favorite Dany quotes from the whole series, and I hate that it’s been given such a negative connotation in the fandom, when for me it represents Dany’s humanity and compassion at the fullest.

GRRM has a knack for humanizing the ‘monsters’ of his story, for showing the good in the outcasts and the ugly and the scary. He embraces their ‘otherness’ and makes them the heroes of his stories; Arya, Bran, Brienne, Dany, Tyrion, Jon, Theon and many others are all compared to monsters or beasts at one point or another in the books.

Dany sees herself in her dragons, literal monsters in every sense of the word. Later on she faces Drogon inside the pit, and in that moment you could say that she accepts that ‘monstrous’ part of her, and in doing so she’s saved from her fate of dying at the hands of the men who would crucify innocent children and gleefully profit off of the suffering of their fellow human beings while watching them fight each other to the death for their own amusement. Now tell me who’s the real monster in this situation.

But shortly before that happens, Dany is able to see the humanity in Tyrion, an outcast who has been branded as monstrous and unlovable due to his disability all his life, a man who has come to believe in his abusers’ rhetoric about him so strongly that he’s started to act cruel and detached. She saves his life. She sees value in his life when few others would, because she cares.

I’ve always find it funny that the “dragons plant no trees” is—another—example fans use to argue in favor of Dany’s descent into Darkness™ because the actual scene goes like this:

You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros.

"It is such a long way," she complained. "I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl."

No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.—Daenerys X, ADWD.

Now am I the only one who finds it at least a bit relevant that it’s freaking Jorah Mormont aka Jorah the Enslaver whom Dany’s subconscious, at her literal lowest moment, utilizes to represent this particular thought, which btw I’ve always interpreted as Dany’s own self-loathing manifesting in her, and this is something she’s actually always struggled with—the idea that she’s not enough and she’s failing. Because above all things, even Westeros or the Iron Throne, what Dany wants is peace, she wants to plant trees.

When Dany made her descent, Reznak and Skahaz dropped to their knees. "Your Worship shines so brightly, you will blind every man who dares to look upon you," said Reznak. […] This match will save our city, you will see."

"So we pray. I want to plant my olive trees and see them fruit." Does it matter that Hizdahr's kisses do not please me? Peace will please me. Am I a queen or just a woman?—Daenerys VII, ADWD.

But of course the world doesn’t work like that, and so long as there’s Jorahs and Tywins and Eurons out there, men who would take the freedom of humans and submit them to their will, Dany can’t have the luxury of peace, just like Jon can’t have the luxury of belonging and family so long as there’s people still beyond the Wall who need his protection.

And I think that’s fine. It’s fine that Dany failed, it will help her develop as a character and realize that there’s no room to compromise with slavers, the metaphorical monsters of the story who do far more harm than the other more literal ‘monsters’ of the story. So that when she has to face down Euron Greyjoy—who btw, there’s a high chance he will end up stealing one of Dany’s dragons via Victarion using Dragonbinder… y’know, as in enslaving one of her children and using said dragon to inflict god knows what horrors, yet not many people ever consider this for some reason?—she will know. When she has to face down the Others, the magical ice fairies with no regard for human life, she will know.

That’s why I believe that it would make absolutely no sense for Dany to have to go through such a tragic and traumatic experience like burning a whole city even by pure accident, over something that’s either never been a problem with her character or she’s well into her way of learning anyways, so it would just feel repetitive. As I have pointed out, she’s already reached one of the lowest moments of her arc. Not saying there will be no other blows for her, and probably the destruction of KL will be one of them, and knowing Dany she will feel responsibility over it no matter what, but that doesn’t mean she has to be the culprit, intentional or otherwise.

[guardianofthepeanutwrites]

Skirts and Dresses Part 2

Part 2 is here. I hope you will like it! Part 1, Part 3, Part 4  and Part 5 To my Powerpuff Girls ! I love you all <3 Many Thanks to Gypsywoman13 for beta-readig!

@mayucerise @starkeraddictbaby

Iron Dad Tony

Since the Widow had learned his secret and been so understanding, Peter became a bit less careful. While he used to only wear his old skirt when he was alone in the compound, now he would wear his new clothes when only one or two people were present or if Natasha decided they needed special training nights, which were girls nights where they would train and then watch action movies while making fun of the bad scripts and stunts. They would also paint each other's nails and do each other's hair. It was awesome.

As promised, Natasha burned his old skirt to ashes, but with his consent. Three days later, she gifted Peter a frame with a small piece of the skirt inside and it made Peter’s heart swell with love.

He could now say that his old skirt had been awful; it had too many colors and some nasty stains, but it still had been his first, so he had put the small memorabilia on his shelf.

--

Today, Peter, Mr. Stark, and Dr. Banner were the only ones present at the compound, so Peter put on a nice skirt that was full of colors, and that kind of looked like silk. It was one of Peter’s new favorites because it would swirl and flare when he walked.

After dancing around for a bit, and watching the effect in the mirror of his bedroom at the compound, Peter decided it was time to work on his assignment for next week.

Peter was fully engrossed in his work when his phone buzzed loudly.

>> Kid, I know you’re busy with your assignment, but I have an emergency here. Could you come by? - TS

Without even thinking about it, Peter rapidly answered

<< Sure Mr. Stark. Omw

With that sent Peter left his bedroom, not remembering in his rush that he was still wearing his new skirt.

--

When Peter entered the workshop of Mr. Stark, the billionaire briefly took his eyes away from the armor he was working on.

“Kid, you may want to change before coming closer. Motor oil is a bitch to take out of silk.” The comment was said offhandedly, as if Mr. Stark wasn’t talking to his mentee wearing a fucking skirt.

Peter felt his cheeks redden, realizing he had left his room in such a hurry that he hadn’t thought to change. He was startled when Mr. Stark started to talk again.

“Pete, it’s kind of an emergency here. Can you change and move on, please?” The urgency in his mentor’s voice got Peter to move, but not to change. “Pete, you’re going to stain the skirt, come on.” But Peter didn’t listen.

“What do you need me for, Mr. Stark?”

The older man sighed but started to explain.

For three hours the two men worked seamlessly like they always do. When the part of the armor they were working on was done, Mr. Stark silently led Peter to the sofa in the lab. He made Peter spin once, to look over the skirt before he let Peter sit on the couch next to him.

“So, Petey Pie. When did you start to wear skirts, and why did you never tell me?” Mr. Stark sounded calm and not disgusted; Peter did not really know what to think about it. “And this isn’t silk. What for the love of Tesla is that thing?”

Peter sighed. Were they all going to criticize the type of skirts he was wearing and not the fact he was wearing them?

“I-I started to wear one, uh, 4 years ago?” Peter felt his cheeks redden again and bowed his head to look at his hands, avoiding Mr. Stark’s gaze. “I found it--well... it was truly horrid, Natasha burned i-” Before he could finish his sentence, Mr. Stark cut him off with a frown.

“Wait, hold on, Underoos. Natasha knew before me?” The billionaire puts a hand on his chest; always one for dramatics. “Why? Wait, no, she’s a superspy. Did she guess?”

“She walked in on me,” Peter admitted. He felt rough fingers against his chin to lift his head up and force his eyes to meet his mentor.

“You know, when I was your age - a little younger maybe - I had a... well, Dad and--Dad called it a phase.” Peter knew his mentor had meant Dad and Obadiah Stane. It made Peter want to punch the guy. “For an entire month, I wore nothing but very short skirts.” Peter’s breath hitched at the confession, making Mr. Stark smirk. “To be honest, I only wore them to make my dad angry, but I still liked it, and those skirts made my ass look like sin. Well, everything makes my ass look like sin, but the skirts...they were really nice.”

“But, then, why did you stop? And why does no one know about that?” Peter asked with a small voice, still looking at his mentor even if the man had let go of his chin sometime before.

“I--They made me. If I am being honest, they paid a lot of people a lot of money to bury every piece of evidence from that month.” Mr. Stark frowned suddenly. “FRI, baby girl?”

“Yes, boss?” The AI answered.

“Do we still have pictures of that time?” There was a short silence before the AI starts to talk again.

“Yes boss, we do,” the mechanical voice sounded, amused.

“We should leak those one day.” Peter choked on nothing, making the older man wink at him. “Oh, and before I forget, FRI, call Thomas and tell him to bring skirts and dresses for my protegé.” FRIDAY didn’t answer, but Peter supposed she already was calling whoever Thomas was.

Mr. Stark stood, making a gesture at Peter to stay put, and went to a little room where he kept a small desk to do things that didn’t warrant going to his main office. He came back with a kraft envelope and sat back while he simply gave the envelope to Peter.

“I was supposed to give this to you on your Birthday, but I think there will be no better occasion than this one.” Peter watched the envelope dumbly, asking himself what was inside. “Open it up, kid.”

However, before Peter could move, FRIDAY started to talk again.

“Sir, Mr. Watson refuses to ‘clothe a man with a dress’.”

Tony lifted an eyebrow. “Fire him.” Peter opened his mouth to argue that there was no need to fire someone over him, but Mr. Stark continued. “Wait, was he insulting?”

“Yes, sir.” If she hadn’t been only code, Peter would have said FRIDAY was angry, but Peter was probably projecting.

“Ok, sue him and then fire him or the other way around. Let Legal take care of that. Shit, Pepper is going to kill me,” Mr. Stark muttered, standing up to start to pace.

“Mrs. Potts has not been using Mr. Watson’s services for some years, boss. Not after they had an argument about the place of women.” Peter saw his mentor getting angry at hearing that. “She has another tailor. His name is Richard Bernard and he comes highly recommended by Mrs. Potts. Should I call him?”

Mr. Stark huffed. “Yes, you do that. And FRIDAY? Next time someone treats my wife badly, tell me. While she can take care of herself, I refuse to continue to employ assholes. Tell her that.” Peter smiled softly at the ardor in his mentor’s demeanor. Mr. Stark breathed deeply and turned to Peter. “Now, kid, open the thing.” Mr. Stark made a wide gesture to the kraft envelope still on Peter’s lap.

Peter carefully pulled the tab and opened the envelope, taking the papers before looking up at Mr. Stark to make sure he could read them. Mr.Stark nodded, encouragingly, so Peter started to read and was startled at the content on the first paper. Peter frantically began to go through all of the papers, but they all said the same thing: Adoption.

When Peter looked up from the papers on his knees, it was to see Mr. Stark kneeling in front of him, watching Peter with a smile, and taking one of Peter’s hands inside his.

“We have known each other for years, and I would never hope for a better son than you, and for someone better to inherit Stark Industries when my time comes, Peter Parker.” Peter wanted to interrupt; wanted to tell the man that while Peter saw him as a dad too...that Peter would love nothing more on this earth than to be his son, but he was not worth it. He was only Peter, after all.

But Tony Stark knew him too well and just continued to talk, gently squeezing Peter’s hand. “You are smart, kind, and brave. I once told you that I wanted you to be better, and the truth is, you always were better. No, Peter, I may have changed the last decade or so, but at your age, I was nowhere as good as you. I would never have been a hero if I had received your powers. I am so proud of the man you have become, and I want to officially call you a son.”

“But--I know nothing about business,” Peter said lamely. It made Tony smile.

“Well, it’s not knowledge I was born with, you know. There are some classes you can take, and Pepper and I are ready to teach you everything we know. We would have done this sooner, but we wanted to give you until your 21st Birthday to be a normal kid.” Tony gently stroked Peter’s hand. “And before you ask, no, I do not care that you wear skirts or that you are bisexual. Yes, I know about that, I’ve seen how you watch the Soldier.” Peter wanted to deny it, but he really couldn’t because he currently had a very big and hopeless crush on one James Buchanan Barnes. “There is nothing--except going to work for Hammer Tech, and maybe SHIELD--that will change the way I see you. You are my kid, Peter Parker. Will you agree to be my son?”

And what could Peter say? He loved the man like a father and looked up to him. He even loved the horrible dad jokes Mr. Stark started to tell every now and then.

“It-it would be my honor, d-dad.” And Peter couldn’t take it anymore as he jumped into his mentor’s...no, his father’s arms.

And if both of them cried while hugging the other for a long time, it was no one’s business.

--

Richard Bernard made Peter the most awesome clothes, but Peter had to admit that while he loved them, (silk was such a pleasure on his sensitive skin) the ones he bought with Natasha were still his favorites.

Natasha looked at him like he was a moron, but did not comment. Peter was emotional, so sue him.

Pepper gifted Peter with some make-up, and with Natasha’s help, they taught him how to use it.

Now that Peter had more freedom to put on his dresses, skirts, lace, and silk, he discovered that he did not crave it as much as before. He even started to have fun with his other clothes, especially since Tony gifted him a great collection of graphic tees with all the best science puns.

It’s not as if he didn’t want to be pretty anymore, Peter did, but it’s not a desperate need anymore. Some days he wanted to look cute, and others, he wanted jeans and t-shirts.

Peter was very lucky.

[hotchscvm]

love me, hate me - part two

Warnings: explicit sexual content, swearing

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Christmas comes around and Ransom wants you more than ever.

part one

"You're telling me you actually want to date this guy? The one who can't even make you cum?" you asked, licking the remaining frosting from your finger. You placed the messy bowl in the sink, watching your best friend trying—and failing—to get the egg shells out of the mixture.

Meg gave up, dumping the brownie batter down the sink with the water running, fed up with the shells. "Yeah, but sex isn't everything, you know. I don't know—it's just this guy isn't like my exes. He genuinely cares about my feelings, and doesn't control me. Besides, he made me cum a few times. He's nice."

With Mariah Carey's Christmas music playing in the background, the miniature Christmas tree on the table, and the snow falling, the Thrombey household felt festive. Although, the people bundled up and arguing in the next room—not so much. Yet, neither of you cared while you continued to work, helping Martha out, on the desserts. It wasn't going as well as planned, but you took it as a positive considering you hadn't started a fire. Yet.

"Ah, yes, nice. Can't relate. I'm currently attracted to assholes who have anger issues." you commented, passing Meg the flour once again. Your creation was in the oven, and all you hoped was that no one got food poisoning because of it. Even you couldn't live with the guilt of Ransom, or his touchy father, throwing up Christmas morning.

"Currently?" Meg asked, raising an eyebrow, getting eggs out of the fridge for the hundredth time. She glanced at the direction of the door, the sound of it opening drawing both of your attention. "I'm pretty sure your daddy issues didn't just happen recently. Speaking of which, you may be the main reason Ransom decided to come back for Christmas instead chasing a model around."

You rolled your eyes, sitting back in your chair while contemplating whether or not it's too late to ditch. While Ransom was hot, his spoiled attitude wasn't worth tolerating for a quick fuck. With sarcasm dripping, you sighed. "Oh, how wonderful. 'Cause, that's exactly what I need right now."

Meg chuckled, focusing on the task at hand, trying not get shells in the mixture again. She had held off on mixing the dry stuff, much to your dismay, but to her it made sense to get the hard part out of the way so it wouldn't fuck everything up. Your best friend had just finished cracking her last egg when Harlan walked into the kitchen, Ransom trailing a few feet behind him. The playboy's eyes immediately landed on you, yet you didn't meet his, too preoccupied with the phone in your hands.

Harlan's slight frown lifted into a smile, surveying how messy the kitchen had gotten. "My, my, I wasn't aware a cake had exploded in my kitchen."

Looking up, you grinned at the old man, the smile reaching your eyes until you saw who was behind him. Ignoring Ransom, you giggled at Harlan's remark. "You call it a mess, we call it baking."

"As long as you ladies are having fun." Harlan replied, patting your shoulder before heading off towards his office, too tired to deal with his dysfunctional family at the moment.

Ransom lingered, walking up to you, a smirk impended on his face. Yet, you refocused you're attention back on your phone while Meg left the room, her apron still attached to her. You didn't question her sudden disappearance, knowing she was just as annoyed at Ransom's presence. The man in question peeked over you shoulder to see your screen showing off another man's dick, the words right below it explicit.

His jaw clenched in jealousy. Much to his chagrin, the man's dick was just as big as his own. But, he kept the icy exterior up. "Would it be offensive to ask whether or not your baking will make me sick this evening?"

You scoffed without looking up, tapping out of the dick pic your previous hook up had sent. "Since when do you care if you're offensive or not? Who are you, and what have you done to Ransom Drysdale?"

Ransom shrugged, leaning against the kitchen island while facing your annoyed expression. His smug behavior got under your skin, and the bastard was well aware. "Maybe all this Christmas spirit got into me. Or maybe I'm trying to be nice."

You raised an eyebrow, getting off your chair, rushing to the window, pretending to be looking for something. After a few seconds, Ransom's curiosity got the best of him and he joined you, looking for anything unusual outside. The snow-covered land showed nothing out of the ordinary, furthering Ransom's confusion.

"What are you looking at? I can't see anything." he said, squinting at the general direction you had look at.

Shrugging, you moved back to your seat, propping your elbows on the back of the chair, allowing a smug smirk lift your lips. "I thought pigs were flying. Ransom Drysdale isn't capable of being nice, yet alone say the word. I'm shocked hell hadn't freeze over. Yet."

The playboy rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he took your body in, wrapped in his favorite color, the dress hugging your curves. "What's a guy have to do to be taken seriously with you? You and I both know I can give you everything you want, and more."

"Are you trying to buy me right now?" you asked, half teasing, half annoyed. Ransom could not take a hint, and you hated the fact that he didn't back off despite the sarcasm and insults you threw his way.

"I'm trying to be nice but you're making it really hard." Ransom answered, his cockiness wearing off. He was growing frustrated the more you looked at him like he was a piece of trash. All you wanted him to be was nice, now that he was trying to be, you wouldn't believe his intentions, despite wanting to prove it to you.

Pursing your lips, you tapped your finger against the table, the acrylic nail making a clicking noise. "You wanna prove it? Fine. You've got til midnight tonight. If you're unable to change my mind, you have to buy me my spring break vacation, all the fees and expenses."

"And if I do change your mind..." Ransom smirked, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, earning a half-hearted glare. "... you have to go on a date with me."

Ransom nearly burst out laughing from your shocked expression, the genuine look of surprised slapped on your face with the words. You shut your hanging jaw, still not processing what he was saying. "Excuse me?"

"You have to go on a date with me if I convince you that I'm willing to change my, and I quote, 'bratty and douchebag ways.' An actual date where we sit down, eat dinner, talk about our feelings, and get drunk. Whatever happens, happens." Ransom purred, placing a finger on your bottom lip. You slapped his hand away, and his smirked grew. "Are you going to back out of this already, princess?"

It was your stubborn side that made agree, pressing your lips into a thin line, you grabbed Ransom's hand, shaking it. He raised an eyebrow while you sighed. "You're on. Hope you have enough money to pay for a lengthy trip. I plan on drinking every bottle of wine in Italy."

Despite your baking debacle, you left the kitchen, leaving Meg's monstrous creation on the counter along with Ransom. You went into the living room, trying to find the girl in question when you happened to stumble upon Richard. He barely got to say a word before you turned around, and left the pervert behind. It was always a puzzle how Ransom turned out so hot with Richard and Linda as parents.

Climbing the stairs, you heard the family arguing growing quieter with each step. The second floor was almost a safe haven considering Harlan didn't let anyone raise their voice in the upper level, making it the only quiet place in the house, safe from any Thrombey fights. It was a wonder how the family hadn't murdered each other yet; it was only a matter of time.

Unable to find Meg in your shared room, you sighed, patting your body to find your phone only to realize you left it in the kitchen. With Ransom.

"Looking for this?" Ransom held out your phone, coming up behind you. His usual smirk was gone, a small, genuine smile in its place. It made him look less arrogant.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

You took your phone back, half expecting him to take it back just as you wrapped your fingers around it. But he didn't. You realized he was pulling out all the stops, all the little things that you found annoying was gone. He was acting. Eyes narrowing, you unlocked your phone, studying him. "Thanks. I think."

"Meg is helping the Brazilian maid." Ransom answered your silent question. Your thumb hovered her contact, going back to the home screen. Your eyebrows had risen by his mis-categorization of Martha's race and employment. "Pretty sure they went to the grocery store or something."

"Oh, okay." you replied lamely, putting your phone in your back pocket, the tight jeans making it nearly impossible. Opening the door to your room, you stepped in, not giving Ransom another look. But he followed inside, making you turn around. "Do you need something?"

Ransom stuffed his hands in his pockets, the cream-colored sweater shifting with the gesture. "You didn't exactly give me much time to prove myself. And looking around, we're all alone. I can't think of a better time."

As much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. The bet was a bit unfair considering how stubborn you were, and the amount of time he had to convince you. But it was a bit unsettling seeing Ransom try so hard, let alone being nice. You nodded, agreeing. "Fine, but can I change first? I'd rather not be covered in flour while you try to seduce me."

"You and I both know I wouldn't seduce you before dinner. There's no way in hell I'd treat you like the others." he mumbled to himself, but you heard it. Clearing his throat, he stepped out of the room. "Yeah, I'll be outside. Waiting. Take your time."

As soon as the door closed, you looked around the room to check if you were being pranked, expecting Ashton Kutcher to burst out of the closet along with a bunch of cameramen. After a few seconds, you came to the conclusion that Supernatural was in this universe, deciding "Ransom" was a shapeshifter or a demon possessed him. It was the only reasonable explanation.

Reaching for the hem of your top, pulling it off in one swift move, dropping it on the bed. Your jeans piling on top, allowing your legs to breathe. Despite Joni's hippie side, she had let Meg sneak in a few joints, the smell becoming stronger as you neared both your suitcases. You didn't think Harlan would be too please to have weed in his house, no matter how lenient he is.

You took your time, a little baffled by what to wear. Ransom hadn't exactly given you an agenda on his plans, leaving you to grab a clean pair of black jeans, and a classy, yet simple, red top. You looked decent enough to fit in a nice restaurant, but casual in case Ransom decided he wanted McDonald's, and most importantly: warm. If he wanted to take you to the North Pole, then he'd have to give you his cozy-looking sweater.

You opened the door, the sight of Ransom rocking on his heels greeting you. His back was to you, his hands inside his pockets as he looked out the window, frost crawling along the edges. It genuinely concerned you how much this man was acting; if you didn't know better, you'd think it was real.

Clearing your throat, you watched him jump in surprise, quickly turning to you. Raising an eyebrow, you tucked your phone in your pocket, meeting his warm, blue eyes. "I'm ready."

"Okay." said Ransom, motioning for you to follow him. You walked down the stairs without a word, the air becoming thick as you walked behind him. The sweater did little to no good disguising his broad shoulders, the muscles somehow still visible under the clothing.

As soon as you reached the bottom, you glanced around, the Thrombey fighting becoming louder with each second. It wouldn't be long before one of them stormed out of the room, muttering a curse under their breath. You'd seen all of them do it at least once. You crossed your arms, wary of whatever Ransom was planning. "Be honest, you're not just going to drive me off to the middle of the woods and murder me, are you?"

Ransom chuckled, giving you a wink as he held his hand out. Without hesitation, you took it. "If I was planning to murder you, I wouldn't do it in the woods. If you're going to die, it's going to be epic."

"Oh, well, that makes me feel better." you sneered sarcastically, instantly rolling your eyes. In the back of your mind, you pondered how long it would take for your eyes to get stuck in your brain with the amount of times you rolled them at Ransom.

He led you towards the door, smirking. "You ready?"

"No. Let's go."

—

"Fuck, baby."

He spent a few moments just staring at your spread pussy, amazed and aching for you more than he ever ached for anything.

"Don't you know why I want you to see it, Ransom?"

Ransom just shook his head without taking his eyes off the your pneumatic body.

"Because it's yours," you sighed. "All yours, baby. You're the one I've been keeping it nice and fresh for."

"Fuck," he muttered.

He kept staring at you, waiting for you to rub you pussy again, but you didn't. You just kept holding it spread.

"Don't you wanna taste me, Ransom?" you purred, barely above a whisper. "C'mon, baby, please. I want you to lick it so bad. I love you so much and I want to give you everything that belongs to you."

The playboy was all but paralyzed by your words. He finally dragged his eyes off your open pussy and looked at your face. You were staring back at him with a glazed look in your eyes. His solid cock was pulsing hard in the tight grip of his fist. No girl had ever looked at him the way you were at that very moment, yet at the same time, he knew you were playing with the hottest kind of fire there was.

"Sweetheart, you know this wasn't the deal." he whispered, distracted.

You smirked. "But you still won."

He finished the thought by leaning down and sliding his tongue up and over your generously offered pussy. You pulled in a sharp gasp when Ransom's tongue lit up your heavily tingling pussy. Your hips rolled instantly in response, your gasps turning to moans while Ransom eagerly slathered his tongue all around your creamily delicious slit. He soon focused his attention on your clit and slipped a finger up inside your hole at the same time.

The man's finger curled and twisted inside you, searching for you g spot while he suckled and lapped at your fully swollen clit. You could barely form words as you gasped and moaned, your luscious body now writhing with desire.

Your pussy oozed heavily the more he licked and fingered you. Your cream was sweet, tangy and intensely intoxicating. Ransom probed at your hole with his finger and the tip of his tongue at the same time, but he soon drew his soaking wet finger out of your hole and wedged it between your ass cheeks, searching for your puckered rimhole.

You gasped deeply and lifted your legs up higher, giving Ransom better access to your asshole. He massaged your tight bud with his honey-coated finger and made deep, hungry love to your pussy with his mouth.

"God god god god, Ransom!" you cried, your hips rolling harder and harder against the man's mouth and finger.

Your body went tense for a few moments and then relaxed. Ransom backed off and watched you languish after your orgasm, pausing briefly to catch your breath. Then you shifted your body and took the hem of your outfit into your hands and peeled it off over your head. Ransom pulled off his T shirt and slid over on top of your luscious body, grinding his rock-hard cock against your pussy as he lowered himself to kiss you.

You whimpered while Ransom's chest mashed down against your heavy, naked tits. They felt amazing against his body, and he was beyond reason when the your mouth opened and set your tongue into motion against his.

Ransom had never kissed any girl so hard or hungrily in his life. Nor had any kissed him back the way you had. At the same time, you were grinding your slick, wet pussy against his cock as hard as he was grinding against you. Then he squeezed his hands in between them and grasped at your tits, kneading them eagerly with his strong hands.

He released your mouth and said," Baby girl, reach down there and put my cock inside you for me. I need that pussy bad, but I can't bring myself to let go of these fantastic tits now that I finally have my hands on them."

You giggled happily and kissed him again while you worked your hands down between your naked bodies. Finally, you got one hand on your pussy and spreading yourself open while you wrapped the other around Ransom's thick cock.

"Oh geezus, fuck, Ransom, you're so fucking hard," you cooed. "Oh god fuck me deep."

You tucked Ransom's cock head into your wet maw and he began grinding his shaft deeper into your sheath. Your pussy felt so tight and creamy, and you both groaned as his rock-hard flesh gradually filled your body. You looked at each other in disbelief, even though nothing had ever felt more right or natural.

Ransom growled as he began to pump his cock in and out of your spectacular body with long strokes. His grip on your tits went tighter and he lowered his head to suck and lick on your swollen nipples.

You whimpered with pleasure, wrapping your legs around his hips and grinding your pussy hard against his thrusting cock. It wasn't long before he was straining to hold on and keep fucking you deep and hard. You didn't make it any easier because of the way you were moaning and your cunt squeezed his pounding cock every time you came.

Finally, Ransom raised himself up on his hands while he pumped your succulent pussy hole as hard and fast as he could, watching your pretty face twist with pleasure while your tits heaved with the force of his lunging body.

"Gimme your cum, baby. I want it in me...fuck!"

With a final, frenzied volley of full body thrusts, Ransom's pulsing cock exploded in your pussy, filling you with a hot flow of jetting spunk.

After, they spent a long time kissing while Ransom caressed the your beautiful tits. He kept his cock buried inside you until his flesh finally started to relax.

You fell asleep in each other's arms, and Ransom knew he had the girl he always needed right there with him. He had been right, all the sarcastic comments and stupid fights had been worth it.

In the morning, Ransom awoke from a haze of dreams to look down and find you lying between his legs with your lips sliding up and down his swollen cock. When you realized he was awake and watching you, you released his big cock from your mouth, giving his shaft a long lick before greeting him.

"Merry Christmas, Ransom."

[femmeharringrove]

so niki has two dads. so what?

if you say anything about it, she'll kick you. and if principal kane wants to meet with her fathers, then so be it.

that only happens twice - first with steve, who walks in with sunglasses high on his face, a cup of coffee in hand, and a stance that makes the shorter man in front of him admittedly uncomfortable. niki is almost gleeful as she watches her dad stare blankly at the principal, then tug his glasses down to eye him more critically. not a word is spoken, there isn't a sound outside of the gentle swishing caused by niki's feet kicking back and forth. when the silence is broken, it's by steve, voice bored and uncaring.

"what's the problem, mister kane?" principal kane looks a little intimidated by the man in front of him - as he should be, niki knows.

"uh - well, uh, you see, nikita got in another fight again with a student, and -"

his words come to a halt when steve's hand comes up to stop them, the other hand perched comfortably on his hip. his head turns to face his daughter, and while his face is deadly serious she sees the sparkle in his eye and knows she's in no trouble here.

"nikita," he drawls, "did you get into a fight today?"

"yeah," she replies, without an ounce of remorse.

"do you want to tell me why?" he pushes, and she does, so she tells him.

"joey carter said that nobody wants to be my friend because i have two dads and that's wrong." joey is full of shit, as uncle dustin likes to say. she has plenty of friends, and all her friends love her papa and her dad. because steve always makes them the best snacks and takes them on all sorts of trips and takes the time to get to know the kids. and billy lets them do his makeup and carries them around the house while they squeal in delight. their parents might have been unsure at first, but steve and billy have made friends with most of niki's friends' parents. but the carters are gross people and their son is no exception as far as the eight-year-old is concerned.

"thank you," steve hums, before turning back to principal kane. the hand he'd held up to stop his talking lowers again and he places it on his other hip. "principal kane, where is joey?"

"why, he's in class," the ruddy man replies. steve's eyebrow arches in the way it does when papa says something dumb, or when niki tries hiding something from him.

"and why is that?" he presses. "are we just allowing students to verbally harass other students now?" principal kane gulps.

"well, you know how children are -"

"i do," steve cuts in sharply. "i'm raising one. do you know how long it took me to teach her not to say fuck because it's not a nice word?" nikita stifles a giggle at the offended look that crosses her principal's face. "picked it up from her aunt," steve continues. "kids just soak these things up, you know." steve pauses to sip on his coffee, hand raising to stop the man from speaking, and then he continues. "joey's parents are bigots, i know that very well, and i'm not surprised joey's picked up on it. but if nikita here said fuck in class, you'd reprimand her for foul language, yes?" he peers through his sunglasses while principal kane nods vigorously.

"of course we would." steve nods his approval.

"i take comfort in that." the glasses come off after that, and steve leans forward to meet the shorter man's gaze. "now, if one of your students says hateful comments towards another, would you do the same thing, mister kane?" niki grins at the way her principal shifts uncomfortably.

"I - I suppose, yes," he stammers.

"you suppose," steve repeats, mean and critical. "well, in that case, if you suppose, i suggest you get to calling the carters. nikita and i are going to leave you to it." principal kane tries speaking up, but steve's already got his sunglasses back on and he holds his hand out to the smaller brunette in the room. "let's go, honey. say goodbye to principal kane." nikita hops off the chair and waves a cheery goodbye before happily walking out with her hand in her dad's.

later that night, he's reading her a story and she snuggles against his side, enjoying the gentle brush of his fingers through her curly hair, and she can't help herself.

"hey, dad?" steve stops reading, sets the book down to look down at her.

"yes, baby?" and now nikita huffs, because she doesn't know what she wants to ask. they've talked about this before, both about gender and sex, and sexuality. she knows some people think something's wrong with her dads, but she doesn't hear it often. it shakes her a little when she does.

"why are people so mean?" she settles on. steve's face falters a little.

because there's no easy answer to that, is there? he and billy have been raising her for eight years, they've been together for five of those years and have only been open about it for three. they've been talking about getting married, about having one more kid together, about moving and settling somewhere new, but he knows no matter where they go or what they do there are always going to be instances like this, people like the carters and this kane asshole. and as much as he aches to protect his baby from that, he can't.

so he and billy have taught her the importance of kindness and understanding and respect. and at just eight, she has such an understanding of those concepts. she's absolutely brilliant, and beautiful, and more precious than steve will ever be able to put into words. he studies the face that peers up at him, brushes her bangs from her face, and holds her close so he can rest his chin on her head with a sigh.

"well, kita, sometimes people are scared," he tries. "remember when papa gave you seaweed that one time we went to california?" he doesn't have to be looking to know her entire face scrunches up in disgust.

"yeah, but that was gross," she points out, making the same face steve makes when he eats something he doesn't like, trying to get the taste off her tongue. steve laughs softly.

"to you and me, yeah, but not to papa. he grew up out there so he was already used to it, but for you and me it's scary. green stuff from the sea? icky, right?" nikita nods against his chest. "well, some people haven't seen gay people before, not like papa and i and our kid living like other families. and that's new and scary. and sometimes, when people get scared, they act a certain way." steve tries thinking for another example. "like when papa brought that beetle inside and scared me, remember that?"

nikita will never forget the way her dad scrambled over the couch trying to escape the bug. she'd laughed until the beetle took flight because that really was scary. the pair had screamed around the house and steve had absolutely refused all of billy's apologies the rest of the night, huffing and pouting while nikita giggled at the sight.

"you hit him," she recalls. it hadn't been hard, just a couple of swats on the shoulder while scolding the blonde man. steve nods.

"yeah, which was mean," he agrees. "but sometimes, people get mean when they're scared. obviously, something like having two dads or liking another guy or gal isn't the same as bringing in a beetle, it's much bigger than that. and when people get mean about the bigger things, it's more than just a little hit on the shoulder."

she gets that too, as much as she doesn't like it.

nikita sighs and wraps her little arms tight around steve's waist.

"i don't want people to be mean to you," she decides, and steve knows she loves him, of course he knows, but it warms his heart to hear a reminder of it.

"i know," he sighs. "but we can't make other people be kind. we can only be kind ourselves, yeah?" the girl nods and smiles up at her father.

"you're the most kindest" she announces, and then niki rests her head against his chest again. he doesn't start reading right away, but his voice sounds a little wobbly to her when he does.

the second time principal kane has to meet with one of her dads, it's over a father's day event in class and professor kane specifically requests billy instead of steve. he shows up a little greasy from work, looks from the principal to a mother and her son, to his teary-eyed little girl, and knows there's about to be trouble.

nikita doesn't know if it's hurt tears or angry tears, but misses hartwell's words sting and she can't get them out of her head. her son jeremy's words had hurt even more, and so a now ten-year-old nikita had punched him right in the face.

"something has to be done, mister hargrove," the principal says. amy hartwell scoffs.

"something indeed. we'll be pressing charges, that's what will be done." billy fixes her with a glare.

"you're gonna press charges against a kid?" he questions incredulously. "i know my girl, she doesn't do that unless he messed up big time."

"my son would never do any -" the woman begins, but nikita has no time for this. she doesn't want to sit here and listen to them act like jeremy is innocent.

"he said i can't bring my dad to school because i don't have one!" she snaps, and billy almost snaps too.

"well, it's true!" jeremy shoots back from the safety of his mother's side. "tell her, mom." now amy looks usure, and principal kane shifts uncomfortably as billy's cold glare flashes to the woman.

"yeah, tell her," he repeats, low and threatening. "better yet, tell me." amy shifts her weight and steps back.

"well, everyone in town knows her mother got pregnant in some indianapolis bar," she has the audacity to say. "the girl's never met her real father." nikita opens her mouth ready to protest and hurl insults, but billy speaks first.

"nikita doesn't have a mother," he growls. "her father gave birth to her, and i raised her. we're her dads, and she can have either of us at this little party, got it?"

"it's not healthy to feed her lies like that," amy argues, "you're poisoning her mind, it's dangerous -"

"- no," niki's dad cuts in. "what's dangerous is saying all of that within three feet of me. what's fucking dangerous is teaching your kid how to be as fucking disgusting as you."

"mister hargrove!" principal kane cuts in sharply. "i will not have you threatening misses hartwell like that!" billy turns on the man with an aggression nikita has never seen from her pa, a wild gleam in his glare and his lips set in a snarl. the principal shrinks back.

"what a time to grow a spine," he bites. "you've let her walk all over my boyfriend and i, i'll say whatever the hell i want." principal kane looks a little scared, backs down pretty quickly. but billy is on a roll. "i know how this works. you think steve and i don't know what assholes like you say behind our backs? huh? well, we do. and it's fucking ridiculous. steve has more balls than you-" an accusatory finger gets thrown in principal kane's face - "and more class than anyone in this stupid hick town is capable of. and you know what? i get it, we can't stop you from being ignorant dicks. but what i can do, and what i will do, is step in when someone brings this shit to my little girl. do you get that?" billy's yelling stops and both adults look at him wide-eyed with shock. jeremy looks scared, and niki thinks he should be. with a decisive nod, billy ends the conversation, he scoops niki up after that and she can feel him shaking as she hides in the safety of the crook of his neck. "you wanna sue us? sue us. we'll return the goddamn favor, trust me." and he stomps out to his car and just stands out there for a little while, clinging to nikita until she stops sniffling.

they don't really talk on the way home, and when they both enter the house steve looks a little confused.

"aren't you both supposed to be places?" he asks, but the little tease in his expression fades into worry as he gets a better look at them. billy leans in and kisses niki's forehead chaste and soft.

"go get changed," he mutters, which she knows is actually code for when he doesn't want her listening to their conversation. she obliges and disappears up the stairs she's known her whole life, right up to her room where she gets more comfortable clothes. she hears steve yell, "she what?" at some point, but mostly the pair are quiet. when nikita does tiptoe down the stairs eventually, they're in the kitchen, her papa's face buried against her dad's neck while they whisper to each other. it looks like billy's shaking again, but she can't tell.

steve catches her after a minute and kisses the top of billy's head before calling her over and holding her tight. "i'm sorry you had to deal with that stuff today," he offers, mumbled partially into her her hair. she remembers the things he said about mean people and clutches onto him a little tighter.

that night, aunt max and uncle dustin come by for dinner and take her out for ice cream, and when she comes home steve gives her a bubble bath with extra bubbles. she doesn't love letting him bathe her all the time, but sometimes it's fun, especially when he does extra bubbles. he finishes and dries her off and takes his time with her hair, and before long she's just about ready for bed.

her parents work her through the nightly routine, and they tuck her in to bed together like they do every night one of them isn't working late. but after steve plants his pattern of kisses on her face and leaves, billy stays. he sits on the edge of her bed and looks a little unsure, which is strange because as far as niki knows, he always knows what to do.

"honey," he starts. "you know what they said today isn't true, right?" nikita nods easily.

"yeah. dad's my dad and you're my pops." nikita knows, to some degree, how she came to be. she knows steve didn't have her with billy like that. but never once has she ever had to doubt her family, and no one's dared do it to her face. not before today.

"okay, good." billy nods, reaching a hand out and rubbing her shoulder. "people like misses hartwell and her kid, they don't - they don't get it. and i'm so sorry that you had to hear it, and that you had to hear me yell like that."

"and say all those words dad tells you not to?" she adds quietly. billy breathes out a laugh.

"and hear me say all those words dad tells me not to say," he agrees. it gets a laugh out of nikita, much to billy's relief, and he leans forward to hold her by both her shoulders now. "i'm serious, babycakes. i don't care what people like that say. you're my baby, you hear me? always mine."

"always yours," she echoes, leaning forward and throwing her arms around him in a hug. billy plants as many kisses as he can manage on her head and face, before laying her back down and adjusting her covers.

"i love you, green bean," he tells her, and she murmurs in kind before watching him move to the door. he pauses when he gets there, then turns to her sheepishly.

"hey, about the bad words," he hums. "i won't say anything about it to dad if you won't. deal?" nikita makes a thoughtful face.

"can i have ice cream and a kitten?" he snorts at that.

"you have several kittens, baby. but ice cream is doable."

and when amy hartwell knocks on the door the next afternoon talking about billy's offensive language, he only gets a claim of innocence from his boyfriend and a confused look from his daughter who doesn't recall a single bad word from the meeting. steve looks back at the woman and misses the grin nikita shares with billy as she chomps on a bite of ice cream.

[sweetestlamb]

Unexpected

Summary: Accidental relationships are the worst. 

Author's note: A silly little drabble(it's like 5k so idk if it's a drabble lol) I created based on an image @prodmina made for me, this is not related to BMTL at all-it's just a side dish I'm offering to my Junjin lovers. A few days ago we both noticed that these two don't really get much fluff without some angst(I'm guilty of this too so no judgement just an observation) Hence this was created, it's just a one-shot because this idea wouldn't leave my mind. This community is well fed but here's some more food for the hungry. And yes my page break this time is Sujin's sexy leg, I have no regrets.

They've been in the same school for as long as she can remember, her striving to be the best student only second to one and him seemingly showing up to drool on the nearest surface and give the female population heart palpitations. She's thankfully not one of his victims- having actual standards and a fully functional hippocampus; ergo while most girls are drawing hearts on their notebooks with Han Seojun opposite their name, she is turning her nose up at them judging them for their lack of foresight.  A pretty face would only last for so long. 

They stay out of each other's way, the only thing they have in common is Lee Suho- her childhood friend of many years and his best friends despite their varied differences. She and Suho haven't been spending much time together ever since she moved out with her mother, but he was still one of her oldest friend and someone she cared about. Long story short, they both spent years imprisoned with a monster and now they were free.

Her life was looking brighter, more technicolor and staying away from a thug like Han Seojun was only adding to its quality. 

Which is why she's dumbfounded when they run into each other, at the most inopportune of time. She's walking home after her academy classes, being a pediatrician isn't going to be child's play and she has to take every possible advantage to make her dreams a reality. Without her father’s money backing her she has to accomplish this with her own merits, she is looking forward to proving him wrong. 

Airpods in, she doesn't notice the group stalking her until it's too late. One by one they begin to surround her, leering at her body like she's a piece of meat on display- it makes the hairs on the nape of her neck raise in trepidation and disgust.  

"Isn't it too late for a pretty girl like you to be wandering all alone outside?" The one she assumes is the leader croons, voice dripping in faux concern as he rubs his hands resembling a villian out of a 1940′s comic book. 

She immediately begins to catalog how many of them there are, strategizing the best way to take them down. Fifteen of them. She can't fight them all, the best she can do is distract a few and make a run for it. 

"Isn't it too early for vermin like you to be wandering the streets?" She replies snidely, rolling her eyes when they all whistle at her jab. This is such a pathetic end to her day, it's honestly beneath her. 

"I'll make you regret that comment, you bitch!" Already with the name calling, this guy really was a cartoon villian and he couldn't even construct something creative to call her. instead choosing the most generic insult in the book. With a sigh she moves into a fighting position, fists raised guarding her face and legs apart. 

"Let's just get this over with, you're sucking up all the air with that snout you call a nose." All she sees is his sneer and eyes huge in rage before he lunges at her, his movements are so predictable and she sidesteps kicking at the back of his knee swiftly. Then she grabs another arm that comes flying at her face cruelly twisting and flipping him over her body, his groan of pain music to her ears. She easily taking them out without breaking much of a sweat, she had been fighting since she was young and they were all clearly not trained fighters, just bumbling idiots playing gangster. 

But then she hears the cold metallic click of a knife uncoiling. A shiver races down her spine. They really were low-lives, she hadn’t expected them to actually pull out a weapon. 

"You need a knife to take on one girl? Can you even call yourself a gang?" The words are exactly the ones that are in her brain but she's not the one who utters them, a new voice has entered the fray. A familiar voice at that. 

This day just keeps getting worst.

"Han Seojun, how about you mind your business we found her first she's ou--" 

The rodent looking asshole never gets to finish his sentence as her leg comes flying at his face as she executes a perfect roundhouse kick, slicing through the air and landing devastating blow on his cheek sending him flying to the ground in a heap. 

"Damn Sujin! And you call me a thug! I think you killed him." Seojun cries sputtering in disbelief motioning at the motionless body on the ground but she notes the impressed raise of his eyebrow. Like she needs him approval.

While the rest of the band of idiots are helping up their leader she realizes this is her chance, without a word to Seojun she takes off running. Easily jumping over one of her fallen attackers and stepping on his shoulder for momentum, he cries at her harsh treatment.

Turning back she sees Seojun deck a guy in the face knocking him out before he starts chasing after her, his long legs eating up the gap between them in no time, she's temporarily grateful that he's not the one chasing her the damn beanpole. 

"Are you secretly a ninja or something?" She snorts at his terrified face, chucking when he keeps looking waiting for an answer as if he truly believes she might be. Nosy idiot.

"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you." She answers straight faced, watching as horror blossoms on his face and her musical laughter saturates the streets as she runs faster, he shakes his head at her smirking in reply. 

It's the beginning of the end, but she had no idea. 

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Somehow it becomes the catalyst they need to break the seal between them, she expects everything to go back to its rightful place- them ignoring the other’s presence as they've always done and only speaking when they had something rude to say, their normal. But as she's walking in the hallway she hears him shouting her name behind her, immediately all eyes in the hallway dart to them. 

"Kang Sujin! Yah! I'm talking to you!" He garners the attention of everyone in the vicinity and she turns around, annoyance purposely all over her face.  He needs to know that she is not amused with him. 

"Yeah, people across town can hear you. What do you want?" 

"Are you calling me loud?" He cries defiantly, obnoxiously even louder than before. The smirk on his face letting her know that it’s intentional, she aches to kick it off his face. 

"Is the sky blue?" She sarcastically responds, waiting for him to catch up as they walk side by side. 

"A better analogy to use would be is Han Seojun handsome?" She gags as he starts posing with a finger under his chin, in the distance she can hear high pitched squeals of his name.

She picks up her pace, regretting even giving him a moment of her time. She must have lost her mind for a moment, it wouldn’t happen again. 

"No wonder you're single. Who could compete with your love for yourself? I have something to do so I'll leave first." She doesn't wait for his response, leaving to do nothing but that's none of his business. 

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But it doesn't end there, they just keep orbiting into each other. Their groups converging at lunch and when the boys are having a heated argument about who's the best character on Dragon Ball Z, they both passionately shout out "Vegeta!!" In unison making everyone turn to face them in shock that they've agreed on something. They stare at each other as flabbergasted before Seojun pushes his hand out, palm flat and expectant look on his face. 

She simply stares back blankly, considering leaving him hanging just to see that stupid offended look he always gets around her but in the end she slaps her hand firmly against his, at least he was smart enough to know that Saiyan prince was the best.

Clap!

"Someone mark it on a calendar! Seojun and Sujin agreed on something!" Su-ah exclaims clapping her hands and smiling brightly, they both argue when several members at the table pull out their phones to commemorate the special occasion. She wrestles with Jukyeong, who's surprisingly strong and breaks free from her hold while sticking her tongue out.

"You're all so annoying!" They both explode again simultaneously, Seojun hanging off Chorong's arm as he tries to confiscate his phone, she glares at him for giving them another reason to laugh at them and Su-ah cheerily calls out, "Add that to the calendar too, they're so in sync!"

It's the worst lunch of her life, she kicks Seojun under the table. This was all his fault. Glaring when he kicks her back and they end up kicking each other until the period ends, oblivious to the stares around them. 

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At the end of the day she's eager to go home and do nothing, which is exactly when she feels someone tugging at her backpack forcefully dragging her backwards. 

"Yah! Let go of me!" She cries out, slipping her arms out of her bag and turning around in a fighting position. 

"At ease super soldier, it's just me." He replies as if that means anything, but she does lower her fists; marginally. To let him know she's ready to go at any minute.

"What do you want now?" She grumbles peering up at him and when he turns walking away with her backpack still in his arms, she chases after for that reason alone. 

"I'm going to the arcade. They have the new Dragon Ball Z game." 

She should go home and study, she promised herself she would review her notes from class today. She couldn't afford to slack off if she wanted a good life after all. 

She opens her lips to say all of this, to remind him that they can't all be pretty boy models like him some of them actually had to work for a living but instead she hears, "Fine. You're buying me something to eat." 

He begrudgingly agrees after complaining, "Aren't you rich? Why do I have to buy you food?" She skips off ignoring his rationale, only stopping when she sees his motorcycle parked in the lot. She's always wanted to ride a motorcycle. 

"Let's take your bike." She says confidently, not leaving him any room to refuse. 

He looks at her unimpressed before a cheeky smile spreads across his face, "You've always wanted to ride with me huh? Do you have dreams about it at night?" He teases her and she lazily watches him before walking up to him, looking directly into his eyes. He unconsciously takes a step back and she smirks, stepping closer again. 

" Are you nervous? Scared I might really be having dreams about you?" She watches his Adam's apple bob apprehensively before smacking him quickly on his cheek, he jolts in surprise. 

"You wish pretty boy. Now get the keys, I don't have all day." 

He gulps before snapping back to reality, wordlessly starting his bike. 

The entire school watches as they ride off together, her arms wrapped tight around his waist the wind whipping through her hair. She's never felt anything so exhilarating. 

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Their lives become entangled, it's the only way to describe it somewhat accurately. She goes to his house for weekly dinners and sometimes her mom comes too, his mom is a great cook while hers can barely boil water. It's a win-win scenario. They also study together, his grades aren't horrific but they could be better. There isn't much ceremony, he stomps over telling some boy he needs that seat and she watches as the poor kid scrambles, grabbing all his book and running away apologizing the entire way. 

"You have good grades right?" He says matter-of-fact less of a question and more of a statement before he pulls out actual textbooks from his bag. She rolls her eyes before nodding and turning back to her own studies. They study every Tuesday and Wednesday, he's always on time and treats her to tteokbokki. so she allows this transgression. 

She knows immediately why he asked for help when she sees his math test magnetized to his refrigerator door, big red A- circled. His mother brags about his score all throughout dinner, even cheering for her when Seojun informs her that she got an A+ on the same assignment. They both blush as she gushes about how smart they are. 

When the nightmares get too realistic and she can’t handle it alone anymore, he drops her off to therapy sessions and brings her to the gym after so she can release all her anger on a punching bag. He never asks her what's wrong but he drops her home after and the silence is comfortable between them. 

They both never mention their dads but she goes to the cemetery with him and stands quietly as he pays his respect and takes him to get ice cream after, the dinner with his family after is somber but she wouldn't rather be anywhere else. 

They never discuss what exactly is going on between them, they're just there for each other and that's enough. 

At least she thought it was. 

It's stupid but ever since they became...closer he's been getting more confessions than usual  even for him they pour down like rain. Multiple girls a day sometimes as if they took numbers and decided to go in order, she dodges them at every turn but there's always a tinge in her chest and she contemplates going to the nurse because there must be something medically wrong with her. 

She can barely taste the fried pork as she watches another girl shuffle over to their table, giant red heart box pressed tight against her chest as she approaches Seojun. His friends all notice and are chanting his name, elbowing and shouldering him excitedly. 

“Han Seojun! Han Seojun!” 

Su-ah suddenly places a warm hand on her knee, she looks at her in shock. Fear gripping at her as the other girl stares at her with gentle comforting eyes. She pushes the hand away. She doesn’t need comfort, she is fine. Fine. 

Her throat tightens as the confession starts.

"Han Seojun, I-I've liked you since last year. Willyougooutwithme?" This isn't new, they usually lose their nerve at the end sputtering out their feelings all over him. She never sticks around long enough to hear his answers, but this time she has no choice; if she leaves that would be suspicious. It would give people the wrong impression. 

She swallows her blueberry milk, he'd tossed it at her this morning saying he bought the wrong one. Coincidentally that was her favorite. It taste like chalk now on her tongue. 

"Sorry, I'm not interested." He answers truly sounding apologetic, she shifts in her seat, pointedly staring at her food. Stifling her smile by stuffing cold noodles into her mouth. 

There is a long silence as the cafeteria watches, all waiting for the girl’s  reaction. Usually there are tears, loud wailing cries and pleading for another chance, but sometimes they are silent as they walk off heartbroken, friends waiting to soothe them. 

The girl sighs, but unlike the others who usually scurry away, she speaks again, "Can I ask why? Do you already like someone?" 

A thrumming energy fills the room following her question, girls all looking around at each other, preening hopeful that they've captured the heart of the resident bad boy. She just wants this uncomfortable moment to end already, it's giving her indigestion. 

"Yes. I like someone." 

It feels like a sledgehammer to her chest, ignoring Su-ah's hand clutching at hers she stands up grabbing her tray. Nobody pays her any mind besides her two best friends, she weakly smiles at them, "I'm all done. I'm gonna head to the library I'll see you both later." 

She tosses out her tray viciously, forcing herself not to look back. 

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Avoiding him isn't easy, he's always there waiting for her or texting her to ask why she isn't coming over for dinner because his mother made her favorite. She's never lied to him before but she finds herself doing just that, feigning illnesses and late night classes. Which only results in him offering to bring her soup and give her a ride to said classes. Like she said their lives were for lack of a better word, entangled. 

But she sticks to it, keeping her distance from him as she tries to understand why exactly she's doing this. He's her friend she should be happy that he likes someone, he was an idiot but it was probable that the feeling was mutual. He would finally have a girlfriend, someone to fill the spot she had been temporarily occupying. Someone he could bring home for dinners and someone to accompany him at his father's grave. Someone to talk to late at nights when he had a nightmare about losing his family and couldn’t fall asleep. Someone, not her. 

"I'm happy for him. I should be feeling sorry for the poor girl he likes." She whispers to herself, aimlessly scrolling on her phone. Instagram has been a great source of distraction lately. As soon as she opens the app she sees a red dot pop up, a notification. She taps it seeing that she's been tagged in a photo, then another notification pops up and another and another and they start coming in too quickly for her to keep up. 

"What the hell?" She admonishes aloud, clicking randomly on one of the notifications ready to see what's causing such an uproar.

It's a picture of her. 

She remembers the day clearly, Seojun had forced her to go with him to a new diner that specialized in American cuisine, all so he could stuff his face with pancakes. She had no clue he'd taken a picture of her. Something that feels butterflies flutters in her stomach as she reads his caption. 

How do you get a princess to forgive you? 

Was this some kind of joke? What the hell was he thinking? She bulks at all the likes and comments on the photo after only two hours, she'd never gotten that much attention on a photo but she rarely posted pictures of her face. There were a lot of creeps online. 

Nervously she taps to view the comments, it's a mixed bag of reactions. Girls she's never met before cursing her very existence as if she's a threat to their imaginary relationship with him and the very same creeps that caused her not to post selfies on her page posting disgusting sexual comments. 

She instinctively taps to reply to rip them to shreds before she realizes that Seojun has already replied to every comment from a guy, threatening them explicitly and a few comments are even accusing him of deleting comments. There are a few comments calling her pretty but those are few and far in between and usually they are attacked in their replies by other jealous fan girls. 

Anger bubbles in her gut, what the fuck was he thinking posting a picture of her for all these vipers to see? 

Impulsively she taps the screen harshly, fingers flying across her keyboard. 

Delete this now. Are you insane? Who are you calling a princess?! 

Almost immediately she regrets her rash decision as comments flood in. 

How dare you talk to oppa like that? 

Oppa see she doesn't deserve you! 

Who is this snotty bitch?

You're not pretty enough to be this stuck up honestly, no offense. 

You should be happy a hot guy is posting you, ungrateful. 

She's tempted to reply to each comment, who did think they were talking to, she wasn't some pushover, let's see if they would have this much gall to say this to her face. She'd taken on a gang of would be thugs, she had no problem beating some sense into some bitches. 

But they're not worth her time or energy. 

Swiping the app close, she takes a calming breath. Counting to three. Then five. Then ten. Then twenty. When her anger is nothing but a low thrum beneath her skin, she opens her contacts going to get favorites and clicking his name,  bringing her phone to her ears. 

"Finished ignoring me princess?" He answers smoothly, sounding far too relaxed for all the trouble he's caused. She wants to wring his neck.

"Have you lost your mind?" She cuts to the chase, huffing angrily as her phone buzzes with more notification. "Han Seojun you better delete that picture right now!" 

"You've been ignoring my calls and texts and pretending you don't see me at school. What else was I supposed to do?" She can hear the strain in his voice, but he doesn't sound angry, no that's his hurt voice. 

"I've just been busy. You didn't need to do something this... extreme." 

He scoffs, clearly not believing her excuse. It sounds weak to even her own ears, they'd gotten too close they made time for each other, doing the most mundane things together, he even helped her clean her house sometimes and she would regularly help him shop for groceries. 

"Come open your door. I think we need to talk." 

He hangs up after his statement, leaving her to stare at her phone in shock. 

"That little piece of shit." She curses, running a hand through her hair before she hops out of bed, running to open her apartment door. She slows down as she nears the door, not wanting him to think her too eager. She's not. 

Running her hand through her hair again, she slowly pulls open the door. A breath swooshes through her lips at the sight of him, she's been avoiding him so much it's overwhelming to be staring at him directly like this. 

They stare at each other, the air unexpectedly charged between them as their gazes meet.

"It's rude to leave someone standing outside." He quips finally, pressing past her before she can reply to his complaint, she huffs in annoyance stepped aside to give him entry. 

Familiarly he toes off his boots, putting on the slippers her mom had purchased for him after his presence became more constant. Then he strides across the small space of her living room, sitting on her couch and glancing at her expectantly. She closes her door with a sigh, walking over and sitting in the single love seat. He stares at her hard. She struggles to keep his gaze. 

"What did I do? Whatever it is, I'm sorry. If you tell me what it is, I probably won't do it again." 

She's so taken back by his immediate apology that she stupidly focuses on the least important word in the sentence, "Probably?" 

He shrugs in reply, "I like pushing your buttons. You like it too. So I can’t make promises until I know what I did.” 

She can't argue with his assessment, they did have a very unusual relationship built on mutual sarcasm and backhanded compliments. They both were masters of never truly saying what they were thinking or feeling, too scared of rejection to make the final jump of fate. So they just kept crashing into each other, prodding and poking without recognizing why. 

"I'm not mad at you." She admits, she has no reason to be upset. He hadn't done anything besides like someone else, that wasn't a crime.  Unless the judge was her heart and then he had committed the most heinous of crimes. 

"Then why are you avoiding me?" The crux of it all, she was avoiding him because he forced her to acknowledge the secret she'd kept so hidden even she was unaware of it until it hit her over the head. 

"Why do you care so much?" She counters defensively, feeling naked under his penetrating stare. 

He laughs coldly, "Answering my question with a question. Never took you for a coward Kang Sujin." 

She bristles at the snide remark, who was he to call her a coward?

"If I'm a coward why are you here? Why post my picture on your Instagram? Don't you like someone, why are you here bothering me!" She hisses at him, each word gradually increasing in volume until she's screaming at his blank face. Then he starts laughing, pure unhindered laughter from his belly that stings her ears. She made herself too obvious. 

"Aren't you supposed to be smart?" 

"What do you mean by tha-" He cuts her off before she can finish shouting, "How do you not know that I was talking about you?" 

Her voice drains like water slipping down a sink as she hears the words he said, she blinks before her mouth falls open in shock. 

"Was I really letting you tutor me? What was I thinking?" He laments to the ceiling, mocking her but she's too riled up now already climbing out of her seat and striding over to him. He jolts backwards as she places her hands on his shoulders, searching his face and delighting at his wide eyes before climbing into his lap. He wheezes but his hand immediately latch onto her hips. She stares at him closely, eyes trailing from his hypnotic eyes, down to his lifted pert nose and lingering on his full plush lips. 

"You like me." She states, watching how his eyes flutter shut before landing on her own lips. 

"I thought it was very clear. Who else could I have been talking about, I spend all my time with you." 

He's right, they did spend a lot of time together prior to her self-preserving decision to avoid him like the plague. She hadn't realized when her feelings for him had changed, thinking they were simply friends the entire time.  A friend that she thought about constantly, who she wanted to spend all her time with and sometimes she's idly imagine kissing or holding his hand. She certainly hasn't expected anything. 

But here he was offering.  She wasn’t a good enough person to turn it down. 

"I'm going to kiss you. Stop me if you don't want that." She states boldly, now that she knows this is on the table, he's on the table she is practically starving and all her doubts have transformed into the desire, the desire to touch and be touched. He glances at her, his patented 'are you stupid?' stare and she laughs before smashing their lips together. It's hard and a little uncomfortable, with their lips just roughly pressed together and she wonders if they're doing it right before his hands stroke her cheeks, tilting her head as he slows down the kiss until it's sweeter and softer and oh, is that his tongue? He swipes at her sealed lips and she only hesitates for a moment before slowly opening and allowing him entrance.

This takes the kiss to another level, as her head swims at his flavor- something spicy and earthy irrevocably Seojun that she finds addicting and she eagerly sticks her tongue into his mouth, licking at his moist cavern. Wet smacks fill the air as they suck at each other's face, his large hands nearly circling her waist entirely she shivers at the touch, feeling small and delicate in his arms. He reaches up a hand to caress her hair and she mimics the move, pushing her hand through his thick hair tugging at the end of his mullet. When they break apart, panting into each other's mouths she feels like her soul has been set ablaze. 

"Since you're so smart I guess I don't have to tell you how I feel." She says trying to regain her composure and her breath, her lungs feel winded like she's run a marathon.

"Of course not. Everyone likes me, you're no exception." He replies cockily and she groans in exaggerated disgust pushing him away and clamoring out of his lap, but he tightens his grip with a deep chuckle easily manhandling her until they are laying on her couch, her back to his front. His breath is hot on her neck. 

"My mom will be home soon, we can't stay like this." She warns reaching back to move his arm which is digging into her back, dragging his arm over her waist and squirming until she's comfortable.

"I know. We still have an hour. She's working overtime tonight." 

Of course he knows her mom's schedule, she tries to smother her smile. She fails but nobody seems so she'll take it as a partial victory. 

He reaches over her, grabbing the remote before switching on Netflix and putting on a movie they'd started before but never finished because she had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He had complained about her drooling on his favorite sweater the next day at school, as she shushed him and people looked over at the odd pair. 

"You're gonna delete that picture right?" She asks, only barely focused on the movie too distracted by his warmth behind her. She has to smother a moan when he starts stroking aimlessly on her waist. His fingertips igniting her skin in a warm burn that travels to her heart and lower. 

"Humph why can't I have a picture of my girlfriend on my page?" 

She turns around immediately, "Girlfriend? Who said anything about that," she rebuttals watching his eyes narrow until they're barely slits. She doesn't hate that look on him. 

"You kiss someone who isn't your boyfriend like that?" She blushes at him mentioning that, the kiss still very vivid in her mind, her lips still tingling. 

"Shut up." She huffs punching him in the chest, but he catches her hand and yanks her close until they're chest to chest, noses almost touching, lips a hair's breadth apart. 

"I'm going to kiss my girlfriend, stop me if you don't want it." He echoes her earlier words, gripping the back of her head as he stares at her a clear challenge, smirking when she doesn't move away before he devours her lips again. She groans around his tongue in her mouth, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as their lips slide wetly against each other.

When the jingle of keys sound several minutes later, she tumbles off the couch frantically as her mom pushes the door open. She wipes her lips, before looking up at Seojun; he looks wrecked- hair tussled and sticking up in different directions, his cheeks are burning red looking hot to the touch and his lips are sore and wet. Her heart does a somersault in her chest at the sight. 

Fuck. That's my boyfriend.

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She lets him keep the photo on his account in the end, it keeps the hungry fan girls away and guys leave her alone for the most apart. She ignores his smirk when he sees her comment under the photo. 

To everyone who has something to say, Han Seojun is mine. If you have a problem with that, come say it to my face. 

Nobody ever comes to say it to her face. 

“You’re cute when you’re jealous princess.” He teases her, and she scoffs at him, “You’re one to talk, didn’t you almost get into a fist fight today because someone commented that they wanted to ‘tap that’?” 

He growls at the memory of that, only the principal strolling in had stopped him. 

“You guys are perfect for each other, both deadly and gorgeous.” Su-ah adds gleefully pushing her way between them and linking arms on both sides. 

She pushes his hand away when he immediately reaches for her, “Yah! Give me back my girlfriend!” He whines desperately trying to circumvent Su-ah and grab her hand, whining loudly about third wheels and people trying to get in the way of true love.

She’ll never get tired of hearing that. 

She was Han Seojun's girlfriend and he was her boyfriend, everyone could stay mad.

[spaceskam]

For Title Tuesday can I get Malex + 25?

tags: alternate universe, swordfighting, blindfolds, the inherent romance of finding your equal in battle

25. the color of your eyes [ao3]

“Do you remember what they said about Icarus?”

Michael grinned wildly as he held Eurydike between his thighs, checking his hair in the mirror before he started tying the blindfold around his eyes. Isobel just didn’t understand. Maybe he was being overconfident in insisting he could do the entire competition blindfolded, but he was here to look good and show off for all the little earthlings. The blindfold accentuated that more than she could possibly comprehend.

“That he had high desires and died going for them,” Michael responded. Isobel scoffed so loud that Michael couldn’t help but laugh.

“If that was what you got from that story, we need to give you a better review,” she snapped. Michael shook his head.

“I’ll be fine, Isobel. Do you really think any of the Earthlings are going to pose any real challenge? And, let’s be real, no one from our entire planet is going to fuck with me too hard. They wouldn’t stand a chance even if they did, but we all know we’re against them and not each other,” Michael explained. 

This was the first time his father had (stupidly) invited the humans to their competition. It was to show camaraderie. Put up your finest soldiers, you sons of lords, let them show off in this battle! But no one wanted them here. Michael felt the need to make a point.

“You worry me, that’s all,” Isobel sighed, “At least Max is properly trained with his sword. You trained yourself on your little spear.”

“Hey! Don’t call Eurydike a spear, she’s a glaive. Apologize,” Michael pouted to her general direction.

“I will not,” she said, “And for someone who hates humans so much, it’s bold of you to name your spear after one.”

“Glaive.”

“Whatever.”

Isobel patted him on the cheek and gave him a warm hug. It was clear she was genuinely worried and he tried not to take it as a personal insult to his capability. It wasn’t a secret he was the best swordsman in the Dreq Coterie and was probably the best out of all of the different Coteries on the planet. 

His mother along with Isobel’s mother and Max’s mother all three ran the Dreq Coterie politically and socially, though Michael’s father was the one who ran most of the social events. That being said, Michael was well known and, admittedly, very privileged. He’d begun sword lessons very young and had found his calling in the glaive by the time he was 16. He remembered his mother having a fit about his choice of weapon while his weapons teacher had praised him for giving him something fun to work with for once. Everyone chose swords.

Not only was the glaive badass, but it often threw the average swordsman for a loop. It required a different stance, different balance, different placement, different strengths. How could they possibly compete with something they know nothing about?

It always meant Michael excelled at these things. He understood their weapons and they never understood his. It was a very, very beautiful thing. A beautifully hilarious thing. It meant he looked forward to every competition. It was all for fun, no one really got hurt past a few scratches or anything, but it was to show off nonetheless.

Michael waited in his room until Sheyric, his unofficial brother, strolled in and immediately snorted.

“I look good, don’t I?”

“Your arrogance precedes you,” Sheyric said. Michael felt his blindfold tighten before Sheyric touched up his curls a bit. “There. Now you look good.”

“I always look good.”

“Again‒arrogance.”

Michael laughed and grabbed Eurydike, holding her in his hand as they started their walk towards the competition grounds. Sheyric would be competing as well, though in a completely different facet. His specialty was archery and while the man was incredible at hand-to-hand combat, it was never smart to bring an arrow to a sword fight.

“Did you get a look at the humans? Were they trembling with fear?” Michael asked, leaning close.

“Not quite trembling, but they were clustered together. They seemed to take this whole competition thing as more of an actual fight than an event to celebrate our Coteries and togetherness,” Sheyric said. Michael went to open his mouth to say that he took it rather seriously, but Sheyric was already ahead of him. “You don’t count. You just like to show off. You’re still kind to the people you best.”

“Well, of course. I don’t want them to hate me because I’m an asshole. I want them to think I’m kind and better than them and hate me for that,” Michael said. He took each turn with practiced ease. He’d walked these hallways so many times in his life, his eyes weren’t necessary to get through them.

“I should push you into the wall.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would and The Bloodvisage would do that little laugh she does and shake her head and say ‘oh, Sheyric, don’t be mean’ and I’ll say I won’t be and smile and then I’ll do it again,” Sheyric said with the tone of someone who knew he was the favorite. Which really didn’t count because he was his mother’s apprentice. Everything he knew about archery, politics, hand-to-hand combat was because Michael’s mother taught him. Michael might’ve been jealous if he cared.

“Shut up,” Michael laughed anyway and then they stepped outside, taking a deep breath and smiling at the sound of people talking and preparing for the fight around them. It was a nice sound.

“Are you going to be able to make it to your spot with your dumb fucking blindfold?” Sheyric asked.

“Of course I will,” Michael insisted.

“Mn,” Sheyric grunted, clearly lacking faith in his abilities. Michael would’ve argued, but he and Sheyric were already walking to the same spot. 

The Dreq Coterie was filled to the brim of skilled fighters and politicians and it was why they were one of the big six. If Michael felt like being polite (which he often didn’t) he might’ve extended that to Earth and say the big seven. But there was absolutely no kind of alliance on Earth. The only thing the entire planet agreed upon was that they were skeptical of Michael’s people.

He wanted to keep them skeptical.

“Michael,” Max hissed the moment he got close, “What are you doing?”

“Being a show-off, I guess.”

“You’re going to get yourself actually hurt if you do shit like that,” Max told him.

“I already said that,” Sheyric said.

“And so did Isobel. Look, I get none of you have any faith in me, but that doesn’t mean you have to be total dicks about it. Just accept I’m better than you and we can move on,” Michael bragged. Max and Sheyric both shoved him at the same time and Michael laughed loudly.

The competition began with his father’s booming voice, his natural bravado carrying across the entire yard. Michael remembered thinking he was so cool for that when he was little. He knew now that the cool one, albeit strict, was his mother. She was the one who gained the title of The Bloodvisage after defeating thirteen men with nothing but a classic cutlass, a battle axe, and skill.

Different fighters from different Coteries fought with skill and Michael almost wished he was able to see it, but he wasn’t about to risk taking his blindfold off and seem less cool. Instead, he listened while Max fought Evarius of the Piri Coterie and won before losing to Gontas from the Zand Coterie. Other Coteries were battling it out on different parts of the field and whoever the last two standing were would be brought together.

Michael sat back and waited for his turn. His name was eventually called and he got up, listening to the cheers as he twirled Eurydike with practiced precision. He loved that sound. He would be going against the previous winner, Astram of the Kynd Coterie which was a smaller Coterie in the southeast. Michael hadn’t seen him today, but he knew he was a pretty big guy who was a fan of dual swords.

“Ah, Little Rath, you’re feeling bold, I see,” Astram taunted. Michael grinned.

“I’m going by Michael these days,” Michael said. These days really meant since he was six and Astram really knew that, but it wasn’t uncommon for people to still call him Little Rath if only to remind him that he was named after his father. 

“I know,” Astram said.

The beginning of the fight was announced and Michael dodged his blades with ease, already knowing that he swung nearly immediately to catch his opponent off guard. Michael swung Eurydike and hit the wooden side against his calves and he heard a soft grunt. Michael grinned.

It went like that with the next string of opponents, dodging and knocking them around with Eurydike and fighting blade against blade until they ended up on the ground and his foot on their chest. He knew them and their fighting styles well which is probably how he got away with it all while blindfolded, but he would never admit to that.

Rath, his father, let him be praised as the winner of this round and a break was announced. They were meant to eat, gather their strength, and socialize. Michael kept his blindfold on.

“You’re ridiculous,” Sheyric scoffed, handing him a flask of water. Michael downed it and leaned back, smiling in his general direction.

“I’m winning.”

“You’re going to be blinded the moment you take that thing off.”

“Nah.”

“I heard a guy from Earth made it to the final four, so you might get to fight him,” Sheyric said. His hand touched Michael’s chin and a damp cloth swiped across his cheek where he’d got nicked. It wasn’t deep enough to really even bleed or hurt, but it was a cut nonetheless.

“Good, I hope I do.”

“I hope you don’t,” Sheyric scoffed, “You’re going to get your ass kicked. He’s a general’s son.”

“I’m The Bloodvisage’s son, what does that have to do with anything?” Michael wondered.

“Because you don’t know his fighting style. That’s right, I know that’s how you’ve gotten this far,” Sheyric said. Michael didn’t stop grinning.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to kick his ass.”

Sheyric sighed, loud and long, and swatted his leg with the cloth. “You’ll have to kick Lachlia’s ass first, then.”

Michael pouted just a little bit at the name. She was easily one of the most gorgeous people his planet had produced and he hated that he had to be blindfolded while fighting her. She was from the Rhox Coterie, a little group of under 100 in the North, and they all specialized in war hammers which was unbearably sexy. They usually didn’t get very far in competitions though since it was rather easy for them to accidentally destroy others’ weapons and they usually played it safe. Lachlia, as always, didn’t give a shit. He always cherished the bruises she gave him.

“Don’t pout, she thinks you’re annoying,” Sheyric laughed.

“No, she doesn’t, we’re best friends.”

“Sure,” Sheyric snorted.

After a while of relaxing and re-hydrating, his father’s voice announced that the next round would be beginning. The first set would be Michael against Lachlia and then Desiric from the Krin Coterie, another one of the big six, against Alexander from Earth. How boring did that sound? Just Alexander from Earth. How did he even make it that far with something that boring attached to his name?

“Please be gentle with me,” Michael said as he strolled up to where Lachlia was. She huffed a laugh.

“You’re lucky they let you keep your precious stick,” Lachlia said.

“Why is everyone so mean to Eurydike? What did she do to you?” Michael wondered. She laughed again and then they announced that the fight had begun. “Come closer so you can pretend you can win in a non-deadly fight with that hammer of yours.”

“You’re such a loser,” she told Michael. He grinned.

“Yeah.”

Michael could hear the air around her hammer as she swung and he dodged it, though he felt that it was close enough to almost hit. He liked that feeling. It was exhilarating.

Now, Michael wasn’t that skilled at battling against war hammers. He was used to swords and other bladed weapons, but this was a little different and Lachlia knew how to use it. The only reason he got around it was that he knew how she fought. They’d been fighting since they were kids.

He knew that she relied on her left leg rather than her right and he knew that she was swift and nimble. That being said, he swung towards her right side and anticipated her jumping out of the way, so he quickly spun Eurydike and hit her left leg with the blunt end of his blade. Lachlia gasped and he really did almost take his blindfold off to make sure it didn’t cut her, but he realized it didn’t matter when she straight up punched him in the arm.

“You can’t just punch me!” Michael said, trying not to let his guard down though he found it funny.

“Oh yeah?” Lachlia asked and he didn’t have a warning before she just jumped on him. The wind knocked out of him as he hit the ground and pushed Eurydike out of his reach.

“This isn’t a wrestling match!” Michael said as he caught his breath, but he was laughing and let her pin him down. She was strong, he had to give her that, and it took him a bit before he wrapped his leg around her and flipped them over even while she was laughing.

“You’re such a dick.”

“Sounds like you like me,” Michael said.

He put his full weight on her as he used his leg to feel for Eurydike, trying to keep Lachlia pinned even as she squirmed and hit him, but they were both still laughing. He got Eurydike and quickly pushed himself to his feet, putting his foot on her abdomen and putting the wooden side of Eurydike on her chest until they announced him as the winner.

“Piece of cake.”

“Barely!”

Michael extended his arm to her, pulling her up to her feet. He shook his head as he tugged her in for a friendly post-fight hug.

“You let me win,” he said quietly, keeping by her ear.

“They announced the Earthling as the winner far too quickly,” she said, “He wields a curved one-handed broadsword, favors his left side, and can jump pretty high. You’re better at fighting broadswords. Kick his ass.”

“Have I mentioned today how you’re my favorite?” Michael mused, grinning even as she shoved him back.

Michael went back to his side to hydrate and receive a little mini-pep talk for his fight with Alexander of Earth. Sheyric even did him the honor of making sure his hair looked nice. Michael was more than a little pumped with adrenaline. Of all the times he’d had to meet Earthlings, he never got to fight any.

He couldn’t wait to show this one that he was much, much better.

Michael walked back out to the field and waited until he heard footsteps approaching him.

“You think that blindfold is a good idea?” the guy asked in rather impressive Antarii. Michael was instantly struck by how fucking nice his voice sounded in his language which was actually not at all fair or allowed. He twisted his grip on Eurydike.

“Yeah. I plan to win and, well, I’m a guy that likes to make a statement,” Michael bragged.

“So it’s not an excuse to use for when you lose?” Alexander of Earth asked. Despite the niceness of his voice and fluency of which he spoke his language, Michael couldn’t even offer a cocky grin. He just wanted this to begin and he wanted to win.

“I’m not going to lose.”

“Mhm, okay.”

His father announced the beginning and Michael kept his hearing keenly aware of Alexander. He heard his footsteps crunch as he walked  to the side of him slowly. Michael raised Eurydike and spun her casually, preparing to dodge or throw or slash when needed.

The broadsword caught the sound of the wind as he swung and Michael blocked it with his blade with perfect precision, pushing him back and spinning Eurydike to use the wooden end to shove him back even further. He didn’t stumble to the ground though, unfortunately.

He did, however, swing again very quickly. Michael matched him beat for beat, relying on the sound of the air. He was a little annoyed that he hadn’t tripped Alexander up yet. He kind of liked the idea of not even working up a sweat. That would’ve been super cool.

Instead, Alexander delivered a swift kick to his thigh less than a second after he swung his blade, catching him off guard. Michael stumbled and grunted in annoyance and swung Eurydike in his general direction, but he didn’t hit anything. How high could he jump exactly?

Michael listened for him again and heard nothing for a second too long and received a swift kick to his ass which did actually manage to knock him to his knees. Before he could get up, Alexander of Earth kicked him in the back which pushed him to his hands and knees. 

“Oh, come on, this is too easy,” Alexander laughed. Michael quickly rolled onto his back and swung his blade with enough power to throw Max off course, using that moment to get to his feet.

“Don’t get too cocky.”

“Pot, kettle.”

“Huh?” Michael asked, but he didn’t let the weird words distract him as he dodged another swing and then another. Lachlia didn’t warn him that he was fast.

The broadsword almost broke a rule just then as he swung right for Michael’s face. He was fast enough to block it by holding Eurydike with both hands out in front of him, though even he had to admit his pulse spiked.

“What the fuck?!” Michael spat, throwing him off, “You don’t go for the fucking head!”

“Who said I was going for your head?” Alexander asked and he kicked Michael again square in the chest. It did knock him on his ass and Alexander’s foot pressed into his chest, forcing him on the ground. Michael was heavy breathing through his teeth.

The tip of Alexander’s blade caught the blindfold and the blunt side grazed his nose as he took it off. The light blinded him momentarily, but once he adjusted, he got a good look at this asshole’s face.

And not only was he a good fight who spoke fluent Antarii, but he was the most attractive man Michael had ever fucking seen. They locked eyes and he had the most beautiful brown eyes he’d ever fucking seen, full of mirth as grinned.

“Now, fight me for real and not just a way to show off,” Alexander instructed.

What the hell kind of beast was he?

Michael didn’t waste time, though, as he grabbed Alex’s ankle and threw him off. He made his way to his feet with Eurydike in hand and charged. This time they met beat for beat with much more authenticity, blade clashing against blade, matching each turn and lunge and dodge. They fought. And they fought.

And never had Michael felt more like he’d found his equal than he did then.

He wasn’t sure when it went from being infuriating to exhilarating, but it happened and the fact that there was an entire crowd watching them faded from his mind. It was just them, fighting, matching each other and enjoying it.

“Okay,” Michael said, both of their breaths mingling between them as Alexander stepped closer. Their weapons were crossed between them and he was even more attractive up close. He was sweaty and strong and talented and beautiful and why the fuck did Michael ever go blindfolded, he missed a whole day of watching him fight. “Okay, we could call it a draw.”

“We could,” Alexander said, but he shoved Michael back as if trying to get him on the ground again. It wouldn’t be that easy this time.

“Alexander,” Michael said in response, unable to repress the grin on his face.

“Alex,” Alex corrected, eying him slightly, “Rath.”

“Michael,” Michael corrected.

“Michael,” Alex repeated.

“Alex.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Alex took a careful step back. Michael grinned and took a step back of his own. The more space put between them, the more he became aware of the fact that they were still being watched.

“It’s a draw,” Alex said, pointing his blade at him, “This time.”

“This time,” Michael repeated, nodding because that meant there would be a next time. “Hopefully once more before you return to Earth.”

“Watch your back,” Alex said, looking Michael up and down with those fucking eyes, “I don’t plan to go to sleep tonight as a draw.”

Michael grinned so wide it was probably obvious this wasn’t just a normal fight to anyone around them, this being the first draw in decades aside. He couldn’t wait. Alex was… incredible.

“What the hell was that?!” Isobel and Sheyric both hissed at him once he got back. Michael could barely hear the other noise around them, his eyes still on Alex as he faded back into his people.

Michael could barely even blink.

“I think I’m in love.”

[rachelbethhines]

Robin Hood and His Merry Band

list of characters for an original series I’m working on 

Alan-a-Dale - the gloomy and cynical bard, the grumpy voice of reason who doesn’t give a fuck, wonders why he hangs out with these crazies, knows it’s cause they’re family to him but won’t admit it out loud, besties with Friar Tuck even though they never agree on anything, is clearly a bi disaster 

The Archdeacon of Canterbury - The aging head cleric of the church of England. He supports King Richard but is becoming increasingly impotent because of his failing health. Still holds a lot of political power because of his title though.

The Azure Assassin - A deadly mercenary and rival to Robin Hood. Orphaned at a young age Azure had to steal to survive. She stowed away on a pirate ship at the age of ten and has spent the pass eight years studying fighting techniques the world over. They call her the Azure Assassin because her blue eyes are the last thing you’ll see before dying. She’s gained a modest fortune and fame as a spy and assassin, however she can never stay in one play too long due to her reputation getting out. Prince John has offered her a pardon and a place in high society if she brings in Robin Hood’s head. Shame she’s fallen in love with his brother Will Scarlet, as that complicates matters.  

The Bishop of Hereford - Conservative asshole who supports Prince John’s rule and shares his beliefs on ‘bringing order to the kingdom’. Wants to usurp the Archdeacon as the head of the church. Is Friar Tuck’s and Sister Clara’s arch nemesis.

Dame Brianna DuBois - Also known as the The Black Knight, DuBois is loyal to the throne of England and whoever sits upon it. She’s Prince John’s personal bodyguard and unbeknownst to all a double agent for King Richard who is in hiding. However she is conflicted when her duty places her lover Yua in jeopardy. Yes, she’s totally a butch lesbian.   

The Duke of Essex - Prince John’s adviser and right hand man. He only cares for power for power’s sake but is sneaky and conniving and willing to play the long game to get it. He prefers poison to swords, but is surprisingly good at hand to hand combat when cornered. Has a pet snake. It’s the only living thing that he loves.    

Elenore of England - Prince John and King Richard’s sister and Maid Marian’s mother. She died when negotiations during a worker dispute turned violent. Unable to quell the people’s rage, she was stuck down during a riot. Richard, blaming himself for losing his temper and causing things to escalate has since tried to follow in her footsteps and become peacemaker. Prince John went the opposite route and blamed the ungrateful peasants (criminals in his mind) and resented Richard for even bothering to negotiating in the first place.   

Friar Tuck - The jovial and optimistic heart of the team. He tries to keep everyone’s spirits up and believes that helping people is the ultimate expression of god’s love. Is a hopeless romantic and also very, very gay. He butts heads with more traditional leaders of the church often. He also has a not so secret crush on his best friend Alan. 

Guy of Gisbourne - From pauper to nobleman, Guy is Robin’s opposite in everyway. He crawled up from the bottom rung by using and stepping on others and he’s always looking for the opportunity to climb the ranks. Don’t let his foppish ways fool you though, he is both a cunning and ruthless foe and isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. His latest scheme however is to marry Maid Maiden and become next in line for the throne as Prince John has no other heirs save his ward.  

King Richard - Good Richard the Lionhearted is no longer a bloodthirsty crusader in this alternate universe but a peacemaker. He wishes to end wars, not start them, however his more abrasive, uncouth, and impulsive nature can often clash with his loftier goals. Many feel the king would do better to stay at home and tend to domestic matters instead of concerning himself with the conflicts of other far off lands. At the start of the story he has disappeared on one of his diplomatic visits. In reality Prince John has stuck a deal with the king’s enemies and he is currently on the run. 

Lady Tiffany - Little John’s little wife and the daughter of the Sherriff of Nottingham. She acts as the gang’s ‘man on the inside’ helping Robin Hood sneak in and out of places and feeding the team needed information. She’s stubborn and spoiled but also very kind hearted. She usually can get her father to give into her demands with just a pout and when that doesn’t work a full on tantum will do. She a woman who knows what she wants and what she wants is her man. Unfortunately daddy dreariest would never approve of their union and so Friar Tuck marries them in secret.  

Little John - Robin’s best friend and right hand man. He’s a simple man who loves life’s simple pleasures, good food, good friends, and a good brawl from time to time. He adores his partner, Tiffany and would like nothing more than to marry her for real, in a real church, in front of the whole world. However their relationship must remained hidden from her father, the Sheriff, since the violent lawman would sooner see him hanged then have a thief for a son-in-law.  

Lord Locksley - Robin’s and Will’s father. He is arrested for ‘not paying taxes’ but in reality it’s for supporting King Richard and secretly helping the displaced monarch. His arrest leads to Robin and Will becoming outlaws and the series kicks off two years later.   

Maid Marian - Prince John’s ward and niece. Her mother died when she was young and her beloved uncle adopted her. Prince John is the only parent she’s ever known and she at first believes him to be a kind and just man. She’s completely oblivious of Prince’s John’s underhanded dealings and oppression of the poor and at first is skeptical of Robin Hood. However as the two grow closer, Marian learns how harsh the real world is and just how much her father figure has lied to her. 

Miss Yua - Maid Marian’s lady-in-waiting and best friend. She’s the daughter of Sir Ivanhoe and longs to be a knight as well. She’s a stickler for rules and doesn’t trust Robin Hood and his gang of thieves. At first anyways, over time she too learns of Prince John’s cruelty and even becomes a victim of the tyrant’s schemes. Which puts her in direct conflict with her love, Brianna DuBois.  

Much the Miller's Son - born as Midge the miller’s daughter, the young Much longs to be accepted as a boy. As such he’s ditched his dresses, cut his hair, and ran away to Sherwood Forrest in order to be free from society’s expectations. The rest of the merry band accepts Much for who he really is, but at only 13 won’t let him join their gang. He still winds up caught up in their misadventures anyways due to his refusal to listen to anybody, and his determination to get away from his overbearing mother. 

Nurse Agnes - Maid Marian’s wet nurse and the closest thing to a mother that she has. Agnes believes in the ‘old ways’ and is very superstitious. She’s also very critical of royalty in general, but is smart enough not to say so out loud. She’s tried to raise Marian into a better person than Prince John, but eventually was dismissed once Marian had come of age. Since leaving the court Agnes has become the witch of the woods and a healer for the poor. 

Prince John - The main antagonist. Prince John believes that he needs to bring order to the kingdom of England and feels like his brother King Richard has neglected his duties as ruler and placed the kingdom in danger. He'll do whatever it takes to protect the country including subjecting it’s undesirables.  

Robin Hood - Leader of the Merry Band and archer extraordinaire, Robin Hood had to go on the lam when his father was arrest for ‘treason’. While his first priority was to keep his baby brother, Will, safe, the two of them met other outcasts in need over the years have built up an underwound network of rebels who fight against Prince John’s rule. Seemingly suave and cool at first, Robin is actually a bundle of nerves as he tries desperately to keep his friends and family safe...even if it’s mostly from themselves. His world is turned upside down though when he meets the lovely Maid Marian. 

Sheriff of Nottingham - The spiteful and cruel sheriff tries to keep the small town of Nottingham under his thumb. He hates Robin Hood and his Merry Band with a passion and sees their continued exitance as a personal insult. The only thing that will deter him from his goal of putting those outlaws in their place is his devotion to his beloved daughters Tiffany. Who distracts him with her seemingly impulsive and shallow whims.   

Sir Ivanhoe - A respected knight who once served under King Richard has returned home only to find that his king has not made the journey back as planned. He suspects that Prince John is up to no good, but is afraid to make any risky moves so long as his daughter Yua lives among the court. Her safety is the most important thing in the world to him. 

Sister Clara - The resident nerd of Sherwood Forrest and the brains of the team. Clara had joined a convent in order to receive an education and to study science, however her experiments were frowned upon by more traditional leaders of the church, like the Bishop of Hereford. She’s since renounced her monastic vows and has joined Robin Hood’s Merry Band in the pursuit of science! She’s allowed free rein on the sole condition that she doesn’t blow up the camp.  She still manages to blow up the camp, at least once a month. Still her inventions are invaluable to the team and she’s absolutely feral with her chim-bombs.  

The Trapper - A mysterious hermit who sometimes visits the local pub. He’ll often corner patrons with crazy drunken ramblings and loves to give Robin cryptic prophecies and disjoined ‘clues’ whenever they run into each other. (turns out this is an act and he’s really a spy for King Richard)

Will Scarlett - Robin’s younger brother. Will was 15 when they lost their father and now at 17 wants revenge. He’s a hothead and is constantly picking fights with everyone and anyone. While he is dismissive of Robin’s overprotectiveness, he both loves and admires his brother. Even tries to emulate him in some ways. He also would like to think of himself as a smooth talking clever con artist and ladies man but more often then not his temper gets the better of him. Like most teens he’s obsessed with the latest fashion tends and loves to wear fancy clothes (that he’s usually stolen) He’s favorite article of clothing is his impractical red feathered hat. He’s in love with Azure and is best friends with Much. 

[baebeyza]

Unpopular Opinion: Optimus Prime isn't a very good person and that he's too glorified. (expect TFA Optimus)

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

What can I say except that there are many, many Optimus'/Convoy's out there and making a general opinion on them just doesn't work.

But I couldn't think of any Optimus I experienced who wasn't deep down a good person - lets make a roll call shall we? (includes all shows except RB and RBA + Bayverse)

G1 Optimus Prime - Good person, good leader, good father figure. Is forgiving towards wrong-doers without being a pushover. Couldn't think of anything he does that is sketchy

Beast Wars Optimus Primal - He has a harsh personality, hits Rattrap on the back of his head when the Rat talks bullshit and can get feral against his own teammates when they are being assholes like Depth Charge - but all in all, he is still a good leader and a good person. He simply has a more down-to-earth personality and a no-bullshit attitude.

He only ever reacts angrily because his team do stupid and jerkass stuff, but he is never unreasonable.

When he gets angry, you know why and you get why.

Also, he gave Dinobot a chance as a Maximal two times, so he too has a forgiving nature. And his dynamic with Depth Charge shows that he isn't petty either. ("I don't like him much either, but he's still a Maximal.")

He also had a nice moment with Blackarachnia in which he assures her they won't do anything about her coding against her will and that she is safe with them.

Beast Wars II Lio Convoy - The only thing you could call him out for is for refusing the father role when he found out he has a son. It took him half the show to actually call Lio Junior his son, but it made for a nice story! Also, he was willing to make peace with Galvatron in the show, showing his forgiving nature.

Beast Wars Neo Big Convoy - The shy and awkward one! He's a treat who learns to become a good teacher and leader with the help of his students, and he had this moment in which he tried to save Magmatron's life from Unicron. He is a hero with a strong sense of justice who needed to learn about proper teamwork and friendship and it's a really simple and sweet story.

Beast Machines Optimus Primal - This dude is such a trainwreck and I cannot in good conscious say he was always on the right side of things, I admit that.

The way the show treated the Vehicons was a little sketchy, because the Maximals technically became hypocrits, especially when it was about Silverbolt.

Forcing the "techno-organic is the real way to be" unto the non-organic characters feels a little weird, because the show never properly showed us why being without an organic side is supposed to be so bad. (And this matters because the good vs evil conflict isn't properly connected to the techno vs organic plot).

So this Oppy you can make the point that he isn't all that good as he pretends to be in his preachy cult leader role.

RiD01 Optimus Prime/Fire Convoy - Listen, this is the most naive and cute Optimus out there. This dude was willing to let Decepticons into their base just because they were like "We are good now :)" without even checking first.

His dynamic with his jerkass twin Magnus supports that - he doesn't want to fight his brother! The dude fucking pushes him off a cliff and he still tries to reason with him and doesn't fight back at all!

Don't you ever dare call this Prime a bad person, he's precious! xD

Armada Optimus Prime/Convoy - This is the dude who goes fucking feral at the end and shows just how much hatred and anger a Prime can store - but really just towards the end! The rest of the show he's your typical leader who doesn't do anything bad.

And when he made mistakes, he corrected them.

The fact that he always had this hatred and rage that he pushed aside all the time is the most interesting thing about this Prime, but even that doesn't make him a secretely bad person, because he still doesn't do anything bad. He's just an angry boi.

Energon Optimus Prime/Grand Convoy - This is technically the same Prime as Armada, and for once that shows - that anger Prime showed at the end of Armada is still present here and shows up a few times, especially when it's about Unicron.

But just like in Armada, he doesn't do anything bad.

He even tries to save Shockblast, the jerkiest jerk of the entire show, from Unicron's influence! And did just that with Galvatron at the end as well with the full intend to sacrifise himself to save everyone, including the Cons.

Cybertron Optimus Prime/Galaxy Convoy - My favourite Prime of them all - this Prime is just a damn Papa Bear! He will be considerate and loving towards his men, but if you bully his kids, you'll catch his hands bro.

He's bit a stoic dude, but shows compassion and kindness when he needs to.

He doesn't do anything sketchy either, and lets the few remaining Cons be part of the Transformers society in the end, despite their misdeeds before.

TFA Optimus Prime - The one you say is the only good Prime? Guess so, he's a good person as well! He makes mistakes (like insulting his team) but learns and grows from them.

But mate - he isn't a better person than any of the other Prime's I just listed. The only difference between TFA Prime and the other Primes so far is that TFA Prime is a narrative underdog who you are supposed to feel pity for.

All the other Prime's are leaders in a leader role, so just from a narrative standpoint, you don't feel the same sympathy for them as you do for TFA Prime.

But being an underdog doesn't translate to being a better person. The Joker in the Joker movie is also an underdog, but no one says he's a good person and that everything he does in this movie is justified.

TFA Prime just goes through more harsh shit that isn't Megatron and that's it. He isn't being a better hero or person for that.

TFP Optimus Prime - Yeah, I saw the opinion that him being too forgiving towards Megatron in the past is a flaw and that he cares more about this one silver shark more than about the safety of the universe - to which I say: WHEN???

This is a thing Ratchet accuses him off! But I couldn't remember a single scene in this show in which Optimus does, in fact, let Megatron go when he had the chance to kill him!

They always fought to the death when they did and Megatron surviving wasn't because Optimus was too nice. He's not Son Goku peeps.

And I have my issues with TFP Prime and how his characters is written, but being a secretely bad person aint it. He isn't a bad person.

If this is also about Starscream - he has every right to not trust Starscream. No one should trust Starscream! Starscream doesn't exist to be trusted by anyone.

You cannot call Prime a bad person because he elects to not trust the notorious backstabber, who, as Prime himself as pointed out, only does things for his own gain.

Also, he did try to make peace with Starscream after Megatron's "Death", and Starscream refused.

Is it about him destroying the Omega Lock? Nothing wrong with that! He chose to save Earth and all its Humanity over restoring a dead planet! Dead planet stays dead, alive planet stays alive. No one died by his decision to destroy the Omega Lock - but a whole ass planet would have died if he hadn't.

Like bro - I am not a big sucker for TFP Prime, but all these points I see floating around to prove that he is actually a bad person are kinda weird and biased.

Why should he have given Starscream a chance? To get backstabbed and used??? Which we know would have happened because this is fucking Starscream we are talking about??? A dude who doesn't care about Earth in the slightest and was happy about it being destroyed? Who only cares about power and winning this war, which is why he goes back to Megatron???

Should have sacrifised Earth? Would that have made him a true hero???

RiD15 Optimus Prime - This TFP Prime, just sterner, weaker and ready to start beef. But ultimately still a good guy.

Bayverse Optimus Prime - Here you got a Prime who kills his enemies! For anyone saying that TFP Prime is bad for not killing Megatron when he could, do you at least like Bayverse Prime for doing just that? Three times???

Even though he kills all his enemies, I never saw that as him being evil. He just doesn't give second chances. And it was refreshing to see a hero who actually does get rid of his enemies before they can do more shit.

He aint the nicest bot in town, but in the end he still did the heroic thing.

Movie 4 even gave him an arc about losing his faith in humanity and not wanting to help them anymore, but in the end he still does because his Barn Husband Cade convinces him to.

Good man I say, good man!

Prime Wars Optimus Prime - He tried to stop Windblade from making a mistake that would end in war with an emphasis on Windblade herself - saying that war is horrible and he doesn't want her to go through the same thing.

He then decides to help her anyway when he learns what the stakes are, is giving Megatron a second chance, keeps being on friendly footing with the dude and dies in an attempt to destroy the bad guy.

All in all, a good boy!

Cyberverse Optimus Prime - He forbids his soldiers from taking Energon from a foreign planet because the local fauna need it to survive - he constantly tries to do peace talks and doesn't give up on them - He dances in front of his crew to cheer them up - he shows remorse about what happened to Wild Wheel and tries to make things right again - he holds the dead Megatron in his arms and calls him his old friend-

Nothing bad about this home boy!

War for Cybertron Optimus Prime - he fucks up the whole damn time, but he has good intentions! He's a flawed individual who realises what his mistakes are!

Making mistakes, even as grand as his, doesn't make him a bad person!

So, no - I don't agree that Optimus is bad person and I also don't agree that TFA Prime is a better person than any other Prime.

Almost all these Prime's do good things, protect life, try to choose peace over conflict at least once and have a forgiving nature (even Bayverse Optimus, as he forgives humanity) - that all good guy qualities for me!

What more do you want from him to be a good person? Be nice to Starscream off all people???

Also, what do you even consider to be "too glorified"??? The newest media like WFC doesn't even depict him as a good leader because he fucks up so bad.