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auranova26 · 1 year

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Mei-Ling Design Notes and Inspiration 1/2

Unlike her younger twin, Mei-Ling actually went through a large degree of changes compared to both versions of her design in the main timeline. Honestly, went through a large degree of some research and thought to get to the current design that I now have for Mei-Ling. I hope you find some of these notes interesting and fun to read.

I say two designs, but technically Mei-Ling has like 3 designs: Vampire Hunter, the Darkstalkers OVA, and Vampire Savior. Really sad the only full body look of her VHunter design is literally her sprite. The illustration of her Hunter design from one of the covers of a Street Fighter vs. Darkstalkers comic by Udon is quite the beautiful pin up shot, but makes the mistake of giving her the bracelets she has as part of VSAV design. Oops.

Her design is honestly not that different in the OVA compared to her VHunter design. Only big differences are the color of her clothes under her robes, her pants being a different color, the main color of her robe being a defined orange color, and how her hat is both taller and is both orange and yellow. Actually, sounds like a lot really, but design of the clothes themselves are not that different.

Her VSAV design is a general overhaul of the Hunter design. I can only imagine the reason that was done is because they had to animate her for the 'Detached Souls' Dark Force and it might have been a major pain in the ass to animate her robe and sleeves. It isn't bad, but I hate the hat and prefer her robe being open rather than closed. It is genuinely surprising that despite being a non-playable character, the team gave her a different design. A nice consolation.

OH RIGHT, I need to talk about what my thought process was. Sorry, just needed to note all the interesting design things regarding her different designs. So, I generally have stuck with the design she had in VHunter as I just prefer it more compared to her VSAV design. I might have given a jab to the artist who made that pin up of her for that Udon comic. Let me retract that cause I did basically the same thing when I first started drawing her back in 2020. Tweaked the colors here and there to my liking and made her sleeves not as large, but generally the same idea.

Later on, added a little detail on her clothes that I saw an artist by the name of Murai do with her interpretation. This won't be the last I will bring up this artist, hoo boi.

At one point, I changed the sash around Mei-Ling's waste to be an Obi Sash as to make things easier for me.

Around mid 2021, when I was getting more serious about my Cryas Darkstalkers mythos and even further with my love and obsession with the Shao sisters, I went about the process of giving them a makeover, truly trying to give them distinct enough designs. While Hsien-Ko was not too different as her core design was basically near perfect, there was a lot of room for change for Mei-Ling. I mean hell, she had different official designs anyway, what is stopping me from going ham. I mean hecc, look at this concept sketch when they were considering her design change from VHunter to VSAV. Quite a bit of thought. However, I wanted to go further.

Since I wanted to flesh out the sisters, I went about thinking about their potential heritage, the time period they were alive in during the Qing Dynasty, women's fashion at the time for the potential social status they could have been in at the time, the occupation they were training for, and the fact that…well they are Chinese. Since Mei-Ling gives the vibe of being very into her culture and wanting to maintain it, I wanted her clothing to both show off her heritage and her role as a Xianshushi Mystic. Hsien-Ko is said to be more 'modern' in her mannerisms compared to her older twin, so why not have Mei-Ling be more traditional. The first thing to get us on track is to start at the beginning. Mei-Ling and Hsien-Ko were born in 1730 in China during the Qing Dynasty period. In my research and with corroboration with a friend of mine, I decided that the Shao sisters would be a mix of Han and Manchu, two ethnic groups that were the most prevalent at the time period. Their mother was Manchu while their father was Han. However, since their father was killed before they were born, they were more influenced in the ways of the Manchu people as they grew up. The Shao family in themselves are not among the imperial courts or the elite. However, because they have provided a great service over the centuries, they are given more leniency and not treated like the common folk. Plus, with eventually being trained to become Xiānshù warriors as their mother saw great potential in them, that helped to influence them as well.

To start with, let us begin with the robe. So, to my understanding in the main timeline Mei-Ling was generally based on the idea of Daoist priest attire. Doing some searches, jiangshi films did feature such priest like characters with that general idea, even with the color. However, I wanted to do a bit more looking. In my search, the open robe design that her VHunter and my design go with is something referred to a beizi (褙子).

Some parts of Daoism do have their priest having an open robe design, but also the beizi in general was a form of wear that the Chinese people did wear.

It was around during the time of the Qing Dynasty and according to Wikipedia, it was something that was dominant among the Han women of the time. A nice way to acknowledge her Han roots. Yellow doesn't seem to be really a thing with actual Daoist priests' attire, but it just fits Mei-Ling so well, I stuck with that color. While the beizi is prominent with having long sleeves, I decided to trim it down enough to where it ends past her elbow, kinda like her VSAV robe's sleeve length. Ey, giving some credit to that design. As for the trimming, this card I came across showed it in a neat way where it is actually not just flat but has some dimension to it. I liked that and went with it, along with the idea of the trimming being orange.

The hat is loosely based on a hat known as a guānjīn, shown on the far left of this image.

The main timeline version was certainly not one to one about it. But honestly, I like the stylized, simpler idea, so I used that as a base. I took a lot of observations and notes from the way the OVA hat is drawn. However, I just prefer the hat to be one color, so I stuck with yellow. I liked the yin-yang symbol as well, so kept that too.

Another minor detail about Mei-Ling's beizi are these almost padded looking pieces of cloth that follow her trapezius to around the middle of her shoulder. Honestly, I just made them up. These concept sketches I made show me coming up with the idea as I was thinking of her design. It just looks cool and neat.

On to the garment underneath.

With the Shao sisters also being Manchu, this is where some of the influence kicks in. The Manchu wore a set of clothing known as 旗裝 (qízhuāng). The specific kind that the sisters wear falls under something known as Bianfu (便服). Mei-Ling's bianfu is stylized to be a robe that is the length of a magua.

The sleeves are loose and long enough to reach her wrists. The main part of the robe is rich red color while having trimmings and a collar of a lavender color. Contrasts nicely against her beizi.

You may be curious what is going on with the cloth around her waist. Honestly, it was only put there mostly to help solve an issue I had with Mei-Ling's design: the bagua mirror. So, in this shot from the OVA, it is held up by a set of straps.

Ok, fair enough. But the issue is that nothing from the front suggest that those straps even exist. The mirror may as well just be magnetically attached to her a la video game style. In my concept phase, I was wondering what to do. One thing I did notice that was really cool was from the story 'Monsters and the Secret of Immortality'.

Granted, the design of Mei-Ling in that story is wildly different from any incarnation of Mei-Ling, but it presented a neat idea: her mirror was holstered at her waist. Not only that, but it did also look a lot more like a bagua mirror in its design. The mirror's design in this story set the base for how I design the mirror, though I only have two rows rather than the typical three. However, she is wearing attire that doesn't really fit with either her Han or Manchu roots, so I needed to come up with something more fitting to her culture. In my research, I did stumble on something that fascinated me.

What you see is not the original image that inspired me, but still illustrates the idea. Cloth at the waist held in place by a ribbon. I honestly don't know if that idea of garment has a name, but it struck a chord: Have the mirror hang around her waist.

Unlike any official design of Mei-Ling and to differentiate herself from Hsien-Ko, I decided to switch from the baggy trousers to a more straight cut pair. Looks nice and smooth and still goes along with the kind of trousers they wore in that time era. The color I chose just honestly meshed well with her bianfu, plus is warm compared the cool colors of the trim of her bianfu.

While the wristbands she has for her VSAV design are cool looking, something about them just doesn't mesh well with what Mei-Ling is supposed to be. While yes, she is a weapon master (and likely taught Hsien-Ko all she knew about weapons), she is presented more as the mystic of the duo. They look rough and tough. Honestly, would look better on Hsien-Ko in all honestly since she is in the thick of battle. However, I still wanted her to have something at her wrist. I chose to go with a simple orange jewel bead wristband. Simple and elegant for her.

So, if the mirror was moved to hanging around her waist, is there nothing at her back? For a while, there wasn't anything. But eventually, the idea of putting some kind of design back there did come to mind. Eventually, I landed on this design.

Her ref sheet goes into to detail about it, but to put it simply dragons have a big thing with their family considering their mother upon using the Art of Unusual Transformation turned into one. According to what I found via searching Japanese sources, primarily the Japanese Wikipedia entry for Hsien-Ko, there is mention of their mother transforming into a golden dragon. That is very cool since the OVA and a few anthology stories show this.

Mei-Ling's official hairstyle is best described as a bob cut. I went with the OVA as a general base, but slowly overtime adjusted it.

On both sides of her hair and near her hairline, there are these basically fangs. Despite her being more human in appearance, I thought it was still a nice idea to subtlety add some mildly wild elements to her since she is non-human. A bit crazier are these two pincer locks of hair. Honestly, I just took what was already part of her official design and exaggerated it into something cool. For some asymmetry, one is larger than the other. As for the general shape of her hair, I did fan it out more for volume as to make her hair different from her human form.

Mei-Ling's general body shape. Honestly, besides making her distinct from Hsien-Ko as they are both fraternal twins, I just wanted to really make her unbelievably beautiful. In a way, considering hardly anyone gives her the time of day because she is non playable, I just like the idea that she is actually very voluptuous and gorgeous. So that is why she has the general proportions she has. I wouldn't say she is skinny or the typical anime proportions: She is just fit, well endowed, and curvy. Among the Cryas DS cast, the only character that is around her breast and butt size is Felicia. As for why she also has tone to some parts of her body, the fact is she was conceptualized with that as you can see with this concept sketch of her official design. Mei-Ling has just about everything going for her in terms of looks.

Whenever she has appeared in games or media, Mei-Ling has had a multitude of different eye colors. I personally just stuck with green, like the OVA did. Green just looks nice on her, really makes her face mesmerizing. Specifically, I wanted the shades of her eyes to be more of like jade.

For now, will need to end things here for the first part of this design blog as I have used the permitted 30 images for a blog and the last bits require more images to explain things. So be sure to head to part 2, the final part right here:

#cryas darkstalkers #darkstalkers #auranova26 #mei ling #shao #chinese #jiangshi #mystic #mei-ling #design notes #i love her too much #that is why there is so much info and pictures #beautiful woman

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goetzjpvis · 8 months

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2/5/24 "Perfect Blue" JPT3702

My initial expectation of this movie was an introspection into idol culture. I mean yes, it did have that. Mental illness in Japan, parasocial relationships, idol culture, and women being seen as commodities in the entertainment industry were all heavily interconnected themes. The movie did an in depth dive, with multiple scenes, symbolism, and even uncanny disturbing shots meant to exploit the main character, showing how she falls farther into depravity as the people around her make her do worse and worse things. However, the most interesting part of this movie to me were two things:

1) Who I thought the actual antagonist was, and

2) The unnecessary sexualization of the main character, even in scenes where sexuality didn't add to the plot or themes in any way.

Lots of online analyses claim that it was Mima and her disassociative identity disorder that was brought on by the trauma from her REAL rape, in which she believed that she was a movie character who had only experienced it by proxy via a scene, thereby removing her trauma. However, if that was the case, the murder of two of her associates would be called into question. That part of the movie did it for me! I believed that that was the case at first, however the torment of her own manager is who I believe the true killer was. The manager killed the men who had "shamed" Mima by putting her in compromising situations via photographs and films, and then acted as if Mima did commit the murder because she treated her own body as Mima's. She killed both men, placed her murder items in Mima's room, and then attacked the girl who 'once played Mima' dressed as Mima herself. Kind of a convoluted plot, right? Well, I bet living in it really messed with Mima's head! Haha.

Anyways, onto the unnecessary sexualization. Yes, in a way, the 'nude' camera scenes were important to show how the old Mima was being erased, and the girl who once played her felt scarred, violated, and uncomfortable by the incident. It was also important that the author called her scene a 'rape' scene because it went as far as showing how sexual assault is a disgusting vile, event, and how it can change and mentally scar somebody. But let me ask, was framing her female body sexually in that scene necessary? It is clear the movie has the artistic abilities to 'uglify' people, as we can see with Mima's manager and stalker.

Mamoru (Whose name is kind of a portmanteau of 'remember', to protect') Uchida's face is ugly, stretched eyes and mangled teeth, to Rumi's far apart eyes is a way of showing the disturbance of people's minds played out on their face. But why was Mima's body displayed so sexually during her TWO rape scenes? No. It was completely unnecessary to have her draped so 'beautifully' in those compromising positions. (That being said, there should have been a way to show her nude in an "ugly" way, or not even show her naked body at all! It's completely unnecessary! And before somebody criticizes me for saying Mima should be 'ugly', I meant that the display of her naked body should be ugly, and not her herself. If I meant that then yes that would be ugly-phobic in a way I guess?) And in the beginning of the movie, when Mima is laying on her bed tired, we get yet another panty shot. This just goes to show that unnecessary sexualization of women happens CONSTANTLY in Japanese media, going as far as to DO IT EVEN WHEN the movie is also criticizing that very idea. It kind of imposes on itself!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pnwE_Oy5WI So now, i'll say it:

"I did not care for Perfect Blue."

"What?!"

"Did not care for Perfect Blue."

"Ug- How can you even say that?"

"Didn't like it."

"Tori- It's so good it's like the perfect movie!"

"This is what everyone always says-"

"Satoshi Kon, Sadayuki Murai-"

"Listen l-"

"JUNKO IWAO?!"

"I know I- Fine- fine voice actress! Didn't like the movie."

"Why not"

"Did not- couldn't get into it"

"Explain yourself, what didn't you like."

"It insists upon itself, classmate"

"What?"

"It insists upon itself-"

"What does that even mean?"

"I-"

"CAUSE IT HAS A VALID POINT TO MAKE ITS INSISTING"

"It takes forever getting in- and then you see 6 and a half panty shots- and you know I can't even get through, I can't even finish the movie, I've never even seen the ending."

"YOUVE NEVER SEEN THE ENDING?!"

"How can you say you don't like it if you've never even given it a chance?"

"I agree with Classmate2 it's not really fair"

"I have tried on 3 separate occasions to get through it and I, I get to the scene where- where she gets raped for the SECOND TIME"

"yeah that was a great scene I loved that scene"

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niilue · 2 years

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hello!!! thank you so much for doing this event with so many fandoms ❤︎

with yakumo from blue period, may i please have prompt 33 with cw dumbification & oral fixation please? no worries if not!

‧₊˚ ⊹ sub yakumo murai x gn dom! reader

prompt: "i love how your body loses control when you cum"

cw; dom reader, gender neutral, reader have a dick/ strap but there is no mention of gender, dumbification, oral fixion. words; 475 1k event

you had in front of you the image of murai taking all of your cock/ strap with such passion and desperation. as he choked on it and moaned how good it felt in his mouth.

"easy baby, you're going to choke on it." you said stroking his head. his long screens made your thighs constrict. having him on your legs eating you out like that was amazing.

"mmhg, (name), you taste so good." he smiled running his tongue along the base of your member.

he choked again on your cock/strap, making him gag. the obscene sounds of murai taking you like this, while with both his hands he masturbated the member.

his head was moving fast, the sucking sounds were getting too much for you, he was leaving you with nothing.

you lowered your hand and touched his wet crotch. "look at you murai, all wet from just sucking me."

he nodded his head. pulling the member out of his mouth and running it over his cheeks, tapping it across his face. massaging it and kissing the full length of you.

he whimpered when you asked him to stop sucking you, you wanted to fuck him. just like you took candy from a child.

"yes so baby, you're doing great." you said watching as murai sat on top of you and began to penetrate himself.

you took his hair in your hands and pulled him close to you. "i want to hear you moan."

murai began to jump on top of you, holding onto your thighs to propel himself better.

over and over again, you watched as your cock/ strap-on buried itself deep inside his flesh.

murai's eyes rolled back in his head, not a coherent word came out of his mouth. you were hitting his sweet spot and it made him delirious.

"(name), (name), aaahg! nngf" saliva ran down his mouth but he didn't seem to register that he was cumming on you.

you leaned close to his ear and whispered. "aww baby, look at you, don't even register that you've already cum, you dumb baby."

he shook his head and opened his mouth whimpering loudly but nothing else besides your name came out of his mouth.

“ i love how your body loses control when you cum, murai."

"haaah! more, more, more" he moaned, watching you squeeze his cock wanting to cum more.

"murai~ you already want to cum again? don't be ridiculous, you think you can take it?"

he kept taking you so well, breathing hard and moving uncontrollably loving being fucked like that.

you touched his chest and noticed how agitated he was, sweat running down his neck. you licked and kissed his bare shoulders, making him scream.

you could never get enough of him, you always wanted more and more of his nice body. watching him get so small and silly when you fucked him. cute.

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owlespresso · 2 years

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murai yakumo. first time.

started reading blue period back in may. the art is so unique and expressive and i found i could really connect with its messages about art. anyways! i really like the goblin fellow. it's a reader-insert, but it's in third person. she/her pronouns. i've been experimenting with not using second person lately. idk how i feel about it. warnings: spice below the cut, not beta read

The humidity is unusually high for early summer. Times like these make her glad she brought an air conditioning unit from home, her bedroom and studio kept a manageable temperature whilst the kitchen and living room swelter.

Yakumo shows up at one in the afternoon, an hour before he said he would. One of those enormous tarps he’d shouted about using is hefted over his shoulder, two full bags from the convenience store down the street nestled in the crook of his elbow. He lets the tarp flop on the floor of her bedroom, so close to the coffee table that the glasses on top of it wiggle threateningly.

“We’re doing acrylic, right?” he scrunches his nose as he looks at her stained, plastic box of half-used paints, digging through it with unrestrained enthusiasm. “Not my kinda thing, y’know.” His voice is muffled into the fabric of his shirt as he pulls it over his head, carelessly dropping it to the side. The muscles of his abdomen ripple with the movement, vivid strokes of his tattoo alighting his broad shoulders. She eyes the feathers with unabashed curiosity, taking in the rich scarlet, the variation of thickness in the lines.

“Same here, but this is just for fun, sooo…” she trails off, pressing a cold can of coffee to his cheek. Her other hand perches on his shoulder, squeezing the tight muscle that rests there.

“Art is supposed to be fun all the time,” he reminds her, shoving his shoulder into her hand. He leans into the touch like a particularly affectionate cat. The grin on his face is megawatt and unmistakably smug, eyes creased up with a knowing smile. “Unless you wanna get down to somethin’ else?”

“Egh,” she wrinkles her nose and pulls away, making an exaggeratedly disgusted face. “Nope! Not at all!” She plops down next to him, wipes the fresh sweat off her brow. “You said you’d teach me acrylic, and you’re not weaseling it out it.”

Yakumo barks out a laugh, giving her a waggish smile. He leans back on his hands, palms up against the hardwood floor as he regards her, lax and sly. He’s inordinately comfortable in her room, gaze unashamedly darting away from her to look over the walls and furniture. What kinds of conclusions is he drawing? Do her stuffed animals and frilly knick knacks make him think any different of her?

“You just don’t like acrylic ‘cause it dries so fast,” he says pointedly, pulling a leg up to his chest. His chin rests atop of his knee, eyelids dipping low.

“Yeah, and that’s why you’re gonna teach me!” she points out a second time, scrutinizing the brushes she’d laid across an old, green towel. The paint has been chipped off the wooden handles, the mark of age and use.

“What!? I didn’t agree to that…” he grumbles, griping about “giving lessons for free”, indignant and petulant. He helps her, anyways, runs through the basics of a medium he doesn’t really like just to make her happy.

They paint for around twenty minutes before Yakumi complains of an empty stomach. He spills open the bags he brought with him, allowing the wrapped snacks and sandwiches and pastries he’d brought fall out onto the tarp.

“You bought all this?” “Nah. Painted a mural on the brick outside for the old lady who runs the place. She owed me one,” he explains with a dismissive wave of his hand, cracking open a package and sinking his teeth into the plush bun of an egg sandwich. True to word, he’s utterly voracious, easily scarfing down that and another, before turning to the entire section of desserts aimlessly strewn on the ground. They’re all packaged, and that’s the only reason she lets him get away with doing it.

“Well, I’m gonna send some emails while you do that,” she hums, hopping back onto the bed. She tucks her back into the pillows piled against the headboard, lowering the brightness of her laptop’s screen with a wince. The case its in is lovingly decorated with an assemblage of stickers she’d purchased over a few weeks.

“Emails?” he scoffs, around five minutes later. By the time she peers over her laptop to look at him, he’s launched himself atop the mattress, body soaring through the air in an arc. He looks like he’s a plank of wood being thrown into a lake. The bed bounces at the impact, prompting her to let loose an alarmed squawk. Her shorts ride up on her upper thighs, threatening to dip into the v-line of her hips. “Who’re you sendin’ emails to?”

“None of your business,” she sticks her tongue out at him. She nudges him in the arm with her knee. This is the first time she’d had a boy in her bed, she realizes, cheeks growing hot. “Just gimme a minute.”

“Whaaat,” he drawls. He swings an arm over her leg, jostling it is as he tries to pry her attention away from her computer. “You were the one who invited me over here, and now you’re tellin’ me to wait so you can send an email? I expected better hospitality, not gunna lie.”

“Yeah. Well,” she clicks her tongue. “If I could, I wouldn’t be doing it either.”

To his credit, he quiets, remains still and patient whilst she continues to type. The arm he’d fanangled around her knee remains in place, his head tilted to the side enough for her to feel his breath fan across her skin. Unbidden, a hot, molten feeling starts to throb in between her legs. She peeks over her screen, taking in the youthful sculpt of his face, the sweep of his dark bangs. His eyes are shut, lashes settled against his pale cheek. Pursing her lips together, she returns to the task at hand, yet…

The sound of his voice reverberates in her ears, the offer he’d made (likely in jest) when he first arrived circling to the forefront of her focus. She feels like a doe on shaking legs, all of the sudden, faced with both desire and the newfound ability to obtain it. Does he think she’s pretty? Is he even really interested in having sex with her? Or had he said it as an offhand joke?

“Yakumo,” she begins, and he stirs against her leg. He grunts lowly in acknowledgement. “You remember… what you said earlier? About doing ‘something else’?”

“Yeah… why? You givin’ it some thought?”

“Were you serious about it?”

“‘Course. Everything I say is serious.” “What? Don’t look at me like that—okay, whatever, but I was serious when I said it.”

“Oh, wow.”

“You’re a little too cool about this. You should be going ‘kya, Yakumo-kun, please fuck me~ I didn’t know how badly I wanted you until now—’”

“Do you want to fuck or not?”

“...Yeah.”

“Then why do you look so… glum about it?”

“‘S nothin’ to do with you. I just don’t want you to feel forced or anything.” he says with a sigh. He turns his face, pressing his nose up against her outer thigh. “You’ve never done this kinda thing before, right? I don’t wanna ruin it for you.”

“I’m pretty sure that counts as having to do with me,” she helpfully informs him. She folds her laptop shut, doing away with the makeshift barrier between them. He looks remarkably unimpressed, lips pressed into a flat line. “But yes,” she says, before he can start pouting about her nonanswer. “I would still be interested. If you are, that is.”

And just like that, his lips curl into a wild smile, the expression completely at home on his face. His arm unwinds from around her legs and he sits up, turning to loom over her with a raised brow. His hand presses up against the plush comforter, his face swooping close to her own. His gaze is more vehement than she’s ever seen it, keen and hyper focused as he looks over over, attention settling on the bow of her lips.

“I’m not the kinda guy who changed his mind once I make a decision,” he says, soft and low, an unspoken vow in those hushed words, like he’s imparting upon her a precious secret. It feels like they’re remarkably away from the rest of the world, sequestered away in the warm, pastel den that is her bedroom. He looms over her, curled in between her legs, rooted firm in her space like a gargoyle sculpted into a cathedral’s side.

His lips are chapped yet gentle where they meet her own, but his hand presses a little tight to her cheek. She quivers and sighs and shuts her eyes tight, feeling like a bow-legged fawn, unsteady and nonplussed but eager to graze on the new feelings before her. They’ve barely been kissing for a few seconds before his tongue rasps over her mouth, trying to reel her in and drink her deep.

He pulls back before she can open her mouth for him, one of those sharp canines grating over the rosy plump of her bottom lip.

“Ouch,” she mumbles at the sting, no bite behind it. “Aren’t you supposed to French kiss and be all romantic and gentle before you start getting rough?”

“Life’s not like those corny fanfictions you read,” he chortles, amused as he pushes his face into the column of her neck. She for once is grateful that he isn’t looking at her face. Her complexion blooms florid, cheeks painted apple red. She curses, sensitive at the sparking sensation that sprouts wherever he kisses. “Don’t think about it too hard. Just lay back ‘n let me do all the work, m‘kay?”

She contemplates him for a moment, her nerve threatening to falter in these last, final moments of uncertainty. Her head tilts to the side instinctually, giving him more room. The first scrape of his fangs against her unmarred flash makes her gasp and jolt, body going stiff, goosebumps spreading along her arms and up her legs. He seals his lips against her, sharp teeth sucking devilishly at the pale skin. Her hands fly to grip his upper arms, eyes going wide as ambrosial, molten pleasure throbs in her lower stomach.

“Yeah,” she breathes, tilts her head in an aborted nod. Yakumo, who emanates confidence and carries himself with the brash alacrity of someone who has done this before. She settles against her pink, fleecy comforter. She feels like a bird settling into its nest, allowing all her weight to fall into the pile of pillows at her back.

“Atta girl,” Yakumo mumbles, and his big hands all but tear her tanktop away from her. Their disrobing is a whirlwind of motion, his big hands pulling her tank top over her head and sliding her shorts and panties all the way down her legs. He doesn’t stop to admire her after she’s bare and in front of him, diverting from just about every fanfiction she’s ever read but also granting her a moment to collect her wits and scrounge for any courage left within her. He stands on her mattress and sloughs his pants and boxers, grunting as his cock pops up to stand stiff against his stomach.

Only then does his ashen blue gaze finally return to her prone form. He drops to his knees, plummeting all his weight onto the mattress at once. She squawks as the bed bounces and creaks in protest, instinctively curling her legs to her chest lest he land on them.

“Nah, nah, nah,” Yakumo huffs, big hands curling around her ankles to encourage them backwards. His hands are warm, palms unexpectedly rough. He tugs lightly, coaxing but not forcing. Some of the stubborn, clinging trepidation that’s kept ahold of her is assuaged at the gentility he treats her with. “C’mere, baby, it’s alright.” He coos, expression curled into a mocking facsimile of pity.

“Ugh, you don’t have to talk to me like that,” she grunts, ignores the way her cunt throbs at the manhandling.

“I think you like it, though,” Yakumo hums, curled over her. He paws at her breast, idly admiring her chest before placing a chaste kiss over her nipple. The touch, however light, makes her stiffen regardless.

He spends, in her humble opinion, too much time there. Long fingers squeeze and knead her left breast, pinching her nipple between her thumb and forefinger before lifting, the jolt of pleasure-pain making her squeal and arch her back. He pushes and pulls the plump mound of flesh, humming with delight when he finds something new to make her squirm and squeal. A part of her wants to be indignant about how delighted he seems to tease her, but it’s hard to protest or whine about she’s at the mercy of his nimble fingers.

Her hands fly onto his shoulders, fingers curling, head too devoid of thought to worry about the red lines she’s scratching onto his pale skin. Knowing him, he’ll wear them with pride tomorrow, brag about them to those classmates he spends so much time with.

But this moment is for them and them alone, bodies curled and caged around each other like threads twined into rope.

“Haah, you’re so cute,” he purrs, voice low and raspy. His hips rut up against her like he’s an animal in heat, thick heat of his cock rubbing up against her inner thigh. He’s agonizingly, tantalizingly close to her wetting cunt. Her walls flutter around nothing, anticipation mounting in her lower tummy as she finds the words to encourage him. “You got no idea how hard it’s been… keeping my hands off you when you wear those slutty little shorts—”

“They’re not slutty,” she protests, but her cunt squeezes at the crude insult regardless.

“Nah,” he refutes with casual ease. “They’re pretty slutty,” The hand that’d been tormenting her chest glides down her side, giving her hip a fond squeeze before wandering to the crux of her inner thighs. Her spine goes ramrod straight, eyes blowing wide as he slips his fingers over her cunt. He toys idly with her folds, fingers caressing and prodding and teasing. The pad of his thumb rolls over her clit in little circles, coaxing breathy moans and low keens from her lips. Her thighs squeeze around his hand. He tsks, shoving her her right leg apart with his free hand, holding her open for him.

“Sorry—AH!” her voice pitches into a high squeal as he gathers her dewey wetness on his fingers. She swallows and gasps and whines, legs kicking pathetically against the comforter. He grins a sharp-toothed grin, devious and knowing as he slips a finger inside of her, rubbing circles up and down her silken walls.

The hesitance he’d shown merely a few minutes ago is completely gone, replaced by a fervent, manic eagerness as he fingers her. His pupils, blown wide, force his stormy blues into thin, vibrant rings. The wet squelching and slicking sounds fill the room alongside her gasps and whines. Her hands scramble atop the blanket, grabbing fistfuls of the heavy fabric to squeeze. The muscles of her thighs twitch as he adds a third finger, her eyes shutting and her head lolling backwards.

Those nimble digits roll ribboning circle patterns up and down the warm walls of her cunt, just barely grazing that sweet, spongy spot that makes her throw her head back and sob. Her thighs try to snap shut, but he holds them fast, expression wrinkling with a sneer.

“Real sensitive, ain’tcha?” he says. She licks the sweat from her upper lip, eyes glazed as she attempts to cobble together a sensible reply. She’s sensitive? Wouldn’t any girl being touched like this react in the same way? She wants to say as much, but the current of pleasure rolls over her body and tosses her amongst its tides. She shifts again, whimpering as the burgeoning ecstasy slowly crescendos into its peak. “Stop squirmin’ so much.” he grumbles under his breath.

He slaps at her inner thigh with his open palm, prompting her to yelp. She goes shock still, the stinging sensation coalescing with that sanguine pleasure, throwing her straight over the edge of her imminent bliss. She cums messy all over his hand, juices spilling over his fingers and palm, dripping onto the blanket below.

“Oh? You liked that?” Yakumo hums, fingering her through the orgasm, prolonging it into shaking, stuttering ripples. Throttled by the white hot feeling

“We shoulda used a towel,” Yakumo grumbles, making no move to climb out of the bed. “You got any condoms?”

“On the pill,” she mumbles, lifting a trembling hand to cover her eyes. She still feels like she’s shaking, like she can’t pull the air into her lungs fast enough, a skittering stumbling mess of sensation she’s never encountered before.

“Oi,” Yakumo’s hand curls around her wrist. She inhales sharply, but he doesn’t try and tug it anywhere. He rubs circles on the underside with his thumb, a soothing gesture, she realizes after a moment of dazed befuddlement. “Are you alright? C’mon, talk to me.”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, lips curling into a small smile. “Are you gonna, uh—”

“Fuck you? Yeah, if that’s what you want,” he says, touch slipping away from her warmed skin. The mattress creaks as he repositions, knees digging into the surface on either side of her. She gasps as the head of his cock catches on her clit, hot and wet and thicker than she’d anticipated. She can take it, she’s sure, driving back any and all doubt—no, any and all thought for the sake of remaining lax and open.

Still, the gravity of what he’s about to do to her sinks in. Her first time, she recalls distantly, her first time handed off on a whim, all because the handsome boy on top of her made a joke.

But, she wants this. She wants to be so relentlessly full of him, replete with his cum, sated by his fingers and cock. The idea of separating from him and facing the cold, empty air of the room almost frightens her more.

“God, yes,” she hiccups, eyes shutting tight. Her toes curl, feet pressing hard into the mattress as he eases inside, silken skin dragging along her walls. It’s entirely thicker than any one of his fingers had been, stretching her open and filling her full and heavy. She can feel every inch of him, every ridging vein, with mind-numbing clarity. Her pants and heavy breaths spill into soft whines at the stretch, the awkward ache making her body shift and flex and writhe. Her pulse throbs in her ears, a sudden onslaught of panic breaching the haze he’d blanketed her in.

“Shit,” Yakumo curses quietly, breaking through her mind’s incessant buzzing. “You’re squeezin’ me so tight, babe—it’s okay, you’re alright,” he hushes her, resting a hand over her little fist, still balled in the comforter beneath her. His lips dance a small trail up and down her neck, over her collarbones. He stokes that burgeoning flame within her, distracts her from the irrational worry that her mind attempts to crowd her with.

His other hand rests over her lower stomach, thumb rolling circles onto her slicked skin, an attempt to assuage her pain that makes her bite her lip, nerves dipping and soothing. Her eyes flutter shut as his pelvis meets her hips, slotting them together in a way that is cogent and concrete, undeniable and unignorable. Where had they been, all of thirty minutes ago? Still playing with their paints and markers?

She can’t quite find the answer, and the question itself disappears entirely once he pulls his hips back and slots them forward. That blessed, molten pleasure pours through her, avulses all thought from her nagging mind. He fucks her nice and slow, each stroke pushing places inside her that she’s never reached, unscoured planes of her body made to shake and quiver with each roll of his hips, each touch of his fingers. If she shuts her eyes she can pretend his sighs are wedding vows, her cries a prothalamion heralding the union between them.

Opening her eyes, she glances up to his face. He looks just as dazed and wrecked as she feels, cheeks stained scarlet, lips parting around moans and sighs as he ruts into the welcoming grip of her pussy. Her little body shuddered, fingers breaking away from the sheets to curl around his own, gripping him tight as he bowed down, hooking sharp teeth into her collarbone.

“Fuck,” he moans, voice breaking, choking. “Just like that, just like that—” he keeps talking, rasping out half-thought through praises between noises until his cock hits a spot that makes them both groan. He presses in just right, forces squeals and whimpers and other pitiful noises from her kiss-drunk lips.

She gives mindless little “ah, ah, ah”s, lost to the ravenous rhythm he sets. Her spine arches, her hips roll, and she boils over the lid as his fingers dive between their bodies, clumsily toying with her clit. Her body feels as though its aflame, swollen cunt holding him tight every time he pulls free, welcoming him back with a loving squeeze with each brutal reentry.

He trades his honed technique for desperate roughness. He bullies her over into another orgasm with the rough pads of his fingers, spreading her dewey slick over the overwrought bunch of nerves.

A shudder rolls down his spine as she squeezes and milks him, each sanguine roll of his hips drawing him closer and closer to his own peak. She can feel it in the twitching of his thighs, in the way he veers off his rhythm and fucks into her, full weight behind every thrust. He’s chasing his own pleasure, now, using her. She swallows, flushes and clenches around him at the thought. He comes with a gasp, shoved over the edge

She watches, hazy and idly transfixed. He paints a beautiful picture, dark lashes set against his flushed cheeks, lips glistening as they part. He trembles with a low growl of her name, the gravel in his voice making her shiver. For a single moment, only the sound of their breaths filling the silence that lingers between them. A syrupy feeling settles over her mind and body, eyes slipping shut as she sinks into what she assumes is the afterglow.

His forearms tense, thighs shaking as he pulls out. A gross schlicking sound parts the balmy air, the loss of him rendering her as empty as she’s ever felt. Without him there to warm her, the space between her legs starts to cool, causing her to wrinkle her nose. The mess they’ve made has not escaped her. Their bodies are caked with sweat. Yakumo collapses onto his side, pressing tight to the comforters in an effort to cling to that tender warmth.

He says something, but she doesn't quite catch it. The rumble of his voice has gone raspy with extensive use. She tilts her head to look at him, eyelids dipped low and cheeks still hot.

“What?”

“Hah!” he bursts out in erumpent laughter at the sight of her face, the noise so abrupt and jarring that it completely knocks her from the afterglow. She blinks at him, perhaps stupidly, completely unaware to what he finds so hilarious.

“What!?” she demands. She gives him an affronted frown.

“I fucked you stupid,” he chortles. Heat rushes to her cheeks and her eyes go wide, completely scandalized despite the lewdity of everything they’d just done.

“Fucked stupid?” she echoes with a brusque scoff. Surely not. She makes a face as she tries to turn onto her side, shifting away from the wet mess they’ve made. In a few minutes, she’ll get up and lug the comforters to the washing machine. “No… I just… didn’t hear you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yakumo snorts dismissively. “But it was good, right?” He rests his cheek on the palm of his hand, his smug grin dissolving into contemplative neutrality. She’s sure she looks a mess, covered in sweat and bruises and their mixed essence, but she feels just fine—great, even. There’s a strange kind of giddiness that accompanies the halcyon fatigue of the afterglow, a feeling she can only chock up to delighted disbelief that she’d done this in the first place, despite all of her reservations and her self-doubt.

“Yeah,” she echoes quietly, contentedly. “It was really good. Thank you, Yakumo.”

“Good. S’ no problem,” Yakumo says with a small hmph, dark eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as he closes them, seemingly content to idle atop her comforter. Unfortunate, for him, because she’s dead set on getting them off the bed and into the wash as soon as possible. But for now, while she finally regains the confidence to stand on her wobbly legs, she thinks she’ll let him rest.

#murai yakumo #blue period #oz write

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peachie5000 · 3 years

Note

*sighs* yatora for the ask game

send me a character and i’ll list: favorite thing about them *points* art student *points gay art student with relatable portfolio grind* I love his struggles they're so RAW

least favorite thing about them

HE WORE THAT BEANIE AND GLASSES LOOK AND NOW I HAVE TO LIVE WITH THE FACT THAT HE PULLED OUT A BANGER LOOK AND WILL NEVER WEAR IT AGAIN

favorite line

ooogh its funny cause I do think yatora has some amazing lines but some of my favourite favourite involving him are usually said to him when he's at his lowest not something he said... Probably "I'm actually scared of drawing"

or if we're going full yatoyota - "I like you, Yotasuke-kun, but I also hate you so much it makes me feel sick"

brOTP

Can I put murai here and in the ship category cause my god

OTP

Yatoyota, but also murai x yatora

Yatoyota is way more canon supported and ultimately makes me brain worm bc of their interactions but the gremlin part of my brain thinks that murai and yatora would be a steamroller unstoppable power couple and also the type of partner yatora would be supported the most by

nOTP

i guess yatora and miki? Love her but their dynamic works well as friends tbh.

random headcanon

Yatora would definitely like Eizouken if he was ever persuaded into anime but it would take like. miki begging him to watch it first - he'd actually probably go for something shounen-y or gundam themed as his first anime is he ever went there. Overall I dont know if he would be a big otaku though - just picking and choosing series that interested him.

unpopular opinion

I want to see him screwing around more because as much i love when he paints and angsts seeing his mask and duties to being responsible slip off more when he's spending time with friends is always so cathartic

song i associate with them

OOOO "i bet on losing dogs" by mitski

favorite picture of them

ooOOGOGHGHHGKDLH;GAD don't mind me yatora my beloved

oooo you wanna read blue period so bad OOOO

#blue period #yatora yaguchi #manga #peachie #HIM #asks

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derailedfiction · 3 years

Text

The Most Wanted | Baron Zemo | The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairings: Helmut Zemo x Fem!Reader | Sam Wilson & Fem!Reader | James Barnes & Fem!Reader

Word count: 6764

Warnigns: smut, a bit of swearing

Summary: After John Walker's outburst, Reader.and the boys ™️ follow a promising lead of a certain doctor.

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE :D enjoy <3

tag list: @sea-murai you’re my smut queen

What a mess, you thought replaying in your head over, and over again how the poor man was decapitated. You returned to the empty apartment and made yourself a drink, which you drank at the spot and immediately you refilled empty glass. You looked at the amber liquid pensive. It was not the first time you saw somebody getting killed but the brutality of the act itself and the direct publicity it had from the very start, made you feel sick.

With heavy sight, you sat down on the sofa and closed your eyes. It was not the only haunting thought that was in your mind. The kiss. You suspected he did it to play with you, but you could not stop feeling his lips upon yours. How gentle and soft they were and Zemo’s gloved hand lightly caressing your chin as you succumbed to his actions.

What a nonsense, you thought and took away your own fingers that tried to trace his touch on your lips. But it was a pleasant nonsense, and you did not really want to let it go.

“Still here?” you heard Sam as he walked in. “Your great prize just escaped; you’re not following him?”

“Kein Problem, Sam. Ich verfolge ihm, [Not a problem, Sam. I’m tracking him,]” you answered him opening your eyes.

They both looked like they have been through hell. Weary, bruised up with some cuts on faces, but somehow victorious as you spotted the shield in Sam’s hands, still wearing some marks of blood on its surface.

“We must think what to do with Walker, he clearly snapped,” Bucky said as he was taking off his gear. “It’s hard to deal with what he’s done to the shield.”

That sounded way more accusatory than it supposed to be, and you saw Sam slightly tensing his jawline, listening to Bucky. It was something that you were used to, as James would from time to time throw such punchlines toward Sam, and how he has treated the shield.

You got up and went for the first aid kit, which still was in bathroom after Zemo helped you with taking out the bullet. You heard them heatedly arguing back in the room, so you grabbed the kit and went back.

“Sitz [Sit,]” you ordered James showing him the chair, and surprisingly he obliged. You then took a swab with sanitizer and tried to clean his face cuts, but he retreated catching your hand. “Komm jetzt, es wird nur für einen Moment kneifen [Come now, it’ll pinch only for a moment,]“

He let your hand go, rather unconvinced and allowed you to continue with the procedure.

“Sie mussen ihm neutraliziren. [You have to neutralize him.]” you referred to what they were arguing about, whilst cleaning James’ nose cut. “Er kann nicht ein Super-Soldat sein. Das ist zu gefährlich. [He can’t be a super soldier. It’s too dangerous.]”

“Well, that’s out of the question,” James answered with sigh.

“Yeah, but how do you want to take down a bloody murderer? It’s not like we can burst into his house and handcuff him, man,” Sam stood looking at the two of you, with crossed arms. “He’s a straight up killer, a super killer. He won’t go easy, especially as something broke in him.”

“I have told you something was not alright about him,” with nod you agreed to what Bucky has said.

“Warum hat er diesen Mann getötet? Was ist passiert? [Why did he kill that man? What has happened?]” you asked.

“Lemar, his partner died in action. It was actually Karli that pushed him into the wall, but Walker set his mind on that man,” you stood silent for a longer while, thinking intensively about something. In the meantime you let James to go, as you finished with cleaning of his cuts and invited Sam to take his place.

“Ich kenne eine Frau, sie ist eine Wissenschaftlerin und sie hatte an dem Super-Soldat Serum und einer Art Gegenmittel gearbeitet. [I know a woman. She’s a scientist and she worked on the super soldier serum and some kind of antidote.]”

“Really? – Nicht bewegen, [Don’t move,]” Sam looked at you as Bucky explained him what you have said. You found it utterly irritating and hard to tend his head cut as he moved all the time.

“Nun, ich kenne sie nicht persönlich, aber ich weiß, dass es diesen Wissenschaftler gibt, der versucht, die Wirkung des Serums umzukehren. [Well, I don't know her personally, but I do know that there is this scientist who is trying to reverse the effects of the serum,]” you took your time washing the wounds and bruised lip.

Only when you finished, you cleaned up and put the rest of the things back into the first aid kit. Then you took out your laptop and started looking for some useful information.

“Don’t you think is worth a shot?” Bucky asked Sam, who wasn’t that convinced to your idea. He didn’t trust you and you could not blame him for that. Especially, as you let Zemo escape their custody.

“Do we have other option? We should try this, it’ll be easier to do something with him, when he’s not a super soldier,” you felt Sam’s glances as he has spoken with James. “But still, I don’t trust her that much to do as she proposes.”

“For a bit we’re stuck with her,” they both stopped talking to look at you, working on the computer. You paused and looked back at them.

“Was? [What?]” you tilted your head and returned to your work.

“Anyway, we try to find this scientist and then we go back to States. I’m done with Europe for a while.”

“Mags du die offiziele Treffen? [Do you like official meetings?]”, you closed laptop and approached men. “[I know you have enough of Europe, but we’ll be here for a bit longer. In two days, there’s an annual meeting of scientist. What very little people know that it is also an annual convention of all sorts of medical freaks.]”

“Where is it?”

“Come sta il tuo gentiluomo italiano? Andiamo a Venezia. [How is your Italian? We are going to Venice],” you asked them with disarming smile as you saw confusion on their faces.

“How many languages do you know, woman?” Sam was highly shocked considering your ability to change languages so easily.

“A lot,” you smiled cheekily answering him in the purest English, much to his dismay.

***

“Do we have to go through the plan again?” you growled under your nose, hesitantly getting up from the bed you sat on.

You arrived in Venice in the early morning, when the whole city was still asleep. The three of you took that opportunity to do a short reconnaissance in front of the opera where later that day, the event was to be held. A square in front of it was rather small but provided enough space to set an observation station. You really hoped for a moment free to go and visit a bit more of the city you haven’t seen for a long time. Unfortunately, during the day you were seated in the nearby café as Sam and James went inside.

“Bucky and I go inside, and we try to find this doctor of yours. You Y/N, will be a watch-out in the nearby,” James looked at you for a moment, thinking about something.

“Can you tell me again, why you can’t go inside with us?”

“Wie ich Ihnen bereits sagte, wünschen mir einige Leute dort den Tod, [As I told you, some of the people there wish me dead,]“ you shook your head lightly. “So, denke ich, das ist keine gute Idee für mich in zu gehen. Jeder würde wissen, dass etwas lost ist. [So, I think it’s not a good idea for me to go in. Everybody would know something is going on.]”

James was visibly tormented by the idea of you doing things on your own.

“Es ist in Ordnung, ich verstehe dich und dass du mir nicht vertraust, James. [That’s alright, I understand you and that you don’t trust me, James,]” you gently put your hand on his arm. “Aber wir haben keine anderen Lösungen [But we don’t have any other options,]“ he sighed as he knew there was no other idea and that was your best shot so far.

“Right, but how do we get in there? We don’t even have clothes or anything?”

You smiled broadly as you were waiting for this question. You went to the phone and dialed a number, “Sie werden hinreißend aussehen, [You’ll look ravishing,]” you winked at them and started talking on the phone.

Within an hour, you were gaily sitting in a comfortable chair, slowly drinking your second mimosa and simply enjoying the view. Sam and James were trying on their tuxedos for the evening, which was truly captivating activity as you could look at two well-built men in smart clothes.

“Is it me or Y/N enjoys this a bit too much?” Sam turned around to see himself in the mirror.

“Ja, ich genieße die Aussicht, [Yes, I do enjoy the view,]” you smiled and raised your glass to toast and finished off the drink, which was immediately refilled.

Bucky stood silently in his dark-blue velvet jacket and you could have sworn he was mumbling something about you acting like Zemo.

“Komm schon Jungs, du muss anständig aussehen, um in die Oper zu gehen, [Come on boys, you have to look decent to go to the opera,]” the tailor took the last measurements from Sam and invited Bucky to stand on a low step.

“Ah, James, du siehst absolut schneidig aus [James, you look absolutely dashing],” you complimented the man as the dark shade of blue looked absolutely mesmerizing on him. “Du auch siehst absolut schneidig aus, Sam,” what was more to say, you simply took pleasure in both, observing them in those fancy clothes and how miserable they were at the same time.

“Aren’t you getting ready?” Sam asked, looking at himself in the mirror one more time. You sensed that he actually liked being dressed like this.

“Ja, aber ich bin schon bereit, schau. [Yes, but I’m already ready, look,]” with your free hand you pointed to a hanger with long, evening dress in your favourite colour, next to which stood high-heels.

As you finished your last drink, you got up from the armchair and spoke to the tailor, who informed you that there, is need only for small changes and outfits would be ready within two hours. You smiled to him and left the room with the dress and shoes to get ready.

It was not your first time to be a watch out but what concerned you the most about this evening, was the fact that you still had the Powerbroker’s men after you. The odds were rather unlikely for them to come but they were not zero. Then again, you did not really owe anything to James or Bucky, to stay and to help them here or to go after Walker and neutralize his super soldier abilities.

You looked at your reflection in a mirror, carefully observing how the fabric of the dress draped over your body. The sleeves were of right length to nicely cover the bandage on your arm. It was a simple, evening dress as many others, but it had something in it that made you checking-out yourself for a longer moment. Was it the cleavage, not revealing yet complementing your breasts? Or maybe a nicely cut waist, hugging your body well-fitted? You did not really know, and it did not bother you. The effect was stunning, and you loved it. It was a perfect camouflage for your position. Being in that dress allowed you to look as one of the guests, who casually went outside to smoke and was about to go back. The only thing that didn’t go well with this outfit was your purple black eye from the other day, but what make-up cannot solve?

It took you a bit longer than you wished but you managed to cover the bruised area with an evening look. As you finished the last touches of your gala outfit you took out two boxes with the equipment you got from a friendly smuggler you knew from the past.

“So, I brought some good stuff,” you said as you returned to the boys and put first small box on the table.

“She speaks,” escaped from Sam’s mouth. And it was not the only sense that was shocked as his eyes were wandering on your figure, as much as James’s. “You look really nice.”

“Yes, I do,” you replied in such way on purpose, so he had to think about it. You opened the box revealing small earplugs. “We’ll communicate through them. It’s so small nobody will notice it,” you handed one for each of them and put one in your ear.

“Why now?” Sam was still inquiring about your magical ability to speak English, all of sudden.

“I thought it would be easier if both of you would understand me, not just James,” you answered him. “And honestly, gentleman you should consider wearing suits more often… They really suit you.” Sam was visibly flattered by your compliment, while James mumbled something again. “Do you want to go over the plan again?”

“I think we’re good. You’re observing, we’re inside looking for your doctor. We get needed information and head out,” Sam summed up shortly, as you took out invitation. “Only one?”

“Yeah, you’re going as a pair. Settle between who is who’s one plus,” you handed him the piece of paper with grin. “You’ll do just fine.”

“I preferred when you spoke German at least I didn’t understand you,” he sighed heavily. You lightly shrugged your arms and turned on a little screen, which was showing halls of the opera house from different angles. You wrinkled your nose lightly observing one of the video.

“What?” you heard Bucky over your shoulder, standing behind.

“Nothing, I just spotted a bar I want to invade before we begin,” you answered him and turned off the device.

“How professional,” Sam snorted.

“Come now, darling,” you smiled blissfully and grabbing their arms as you were leaving the apartment. “What can go wrong?”

***

As you soon found out quite a lot of things could have gone wrong, starting with your high-heels and Venetian pavement that was not co-operating with them to finish with a bottle of not-so-cold champagne you have hoped for.

“How is it going?” you asked through the earplug, observing incoming wave of smart-clothed people.

“So far, so good,” you heard Sam and you saw him with a drink in a hand, “How does our target will look like?”

“Tall, blonde, she’ll be probably with a cane. She had some sorts of accident and can’t walk without it,” you replied smiling to the passing by couple, “She should be easy to spot. Please, don’t scare her.” Sam let a short laugh.

“Well then, let’s get to it,” James was rather tensed, observing guests coming in.

“You should go and take your seats, the play is about to start.”

“What?” they asked simultaneously.

“Oh, I didn’t mention that?” you smiled to yourself, seeing their distressed faces in camera, “As a treat for guests, you’ll be able to see one of the finest version of Don Jovanni. Enjoy gentlemen –”

And you lost sound at that moment, you could have seen they were saying something to you but it was just lost.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

What a piece of shit, you thought taking out the comm and gently hitting it in order to work.

“Hello?”

“Problems in paradise?” a familiar voice, you thought you won’t hear for a time, asked as you turned around to see Zemo standing in the shadows like a common creep.

“As far as I’m concerned, we’re doing perfectly well,” you said, observing the entrance. Quite a lot of people were still going in, even though the opera has already started. “I’m surprised to see you here, to be honest.”

“I got a little bit bored, and I decided to come back,” Zemo said, walking up to you slowly.

“Don’t tell me you missed Sam or James’s company?” you scoffed him with a smile just in the corner of your lips.

“I missed your company Y/N, if I may speak freely,” you raised your eyebrow at his words. Zemo stopped next to you and observed the façade of the opera house. “It’s quite a crowd, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is. I never liked those official meetings, really. The only one good thing about such parties is this,” you showed him a bottle of champagne you took earlier from the opera’s kitchen. “Want some? But I warn you, I don’t have any fancy glasses, so we have to drink straight from the bottle,” you drank from it and passed the alcohol to Zemo, which he gladly accepted.

“Are our mutual friend inside?” you nodded. “How did you make them go inside?”

“It wasn’t that hard, really,” he was standing with such close proximity, you had no problem with smelling his cologne nor with feeling his warmth. “Is it your doings that our communication is jammed?”

Zemo smiled innocently and pretended to turn the key against his mouth, “I know nothing of such thing, Y/N. But then again, we wouldn’t have had this opportunity to talk freely.”

“And you came, God knows from where, just to talk with me?” he opened his arms and shrugged them.

“Night is still young, and you don’t have to stand here waiting for them to return. They’re big boys,” he took the liberty to caress your neck skin as he spoke, giving you shivers along the spine.

“What we do here is important, Zemo,” you slowly turned your gaze upon him. “Honestly, I don’t really want to see any more dead bodies caused by this man.” You lazily leaned towards him, occasionally glancing at his lips. So, tempting to try them one more time.

“I can see that, Y/N,” Zemo answered in low whisper, still caressing your neck.

You moved even closer to the man and just inches before his mouth, you paused and said, “Give me back champagne.”

You saw how his face shifted as he gave you a short smirk along the bottle, from which you took another sip.

“So, hypothetically, where would you want to go, Zemo?” you asked, enjoying the sensation of his gloved hand against your skin.

“Hypothetically, there is a little hotel, not that far from here where, hypothetically, I have an apartment – Of course, you have – where we can go and talk,” you rose your eyebrow as he took his hand away and took of his signature coat to put it around your shoulders. “It’s rather chilly.”

“What a chivalry of yours, Zemo,” you stated, even though you accepted it with quite a pleasure, “Shall we go?” As for a true gentleman, hidden under a mask of a terrorist, he offered you his arm, which you gladly took.

The two of you went for a relatively short stroll, which raised questions you wanted to ask, how on earth he found out about this event and that you will be there, but you just let it go.

You shook your head for his proposition of a drink as you reached the apartment, you felt a little bit light-headed after the champagne and wanted to make a pause. You nonchalantly slipped the coat on an armchair and sat down on a small sofa.

“Well, you can now tell me why are you back? I mean, you had a clear way of escaping and be free as wind,” you pressed your lips tight, and you crossed your arms, waiting for him to answer you. He poured you two drinks and handed one to you even though you didn’t want any.

Just as soon as he sat down, he started, “It might sound strange, but I wanted to spend some time with a person who will not try to kill me.” You smiled to your whiskey and sipped a little of it, “And as much as I enjoyed co-operating with Sam and James, it was tiring after a while to look over your shoulder.”

You raised your eyebrow in amusement. It was the very Baron Zemo who just said, he must have looked if there was anyone wanting to stab him. You found that hilarious and couldn’t prevent a silent laugh.

“I must say, Zemo, that sounds rather funny, being said by you.”

“Why? Because I know my way out of any situation, even if it demands some stabbing?” he looked at you, gently smiling.

“Precisely,” you narrowed your eyes, observing him. In this dim light and with that smile on his lips he seemed to be quite relaxed and peaceful. A rare view for anyone watching. “You know what, I missed our little talks like that.”

“I’ll drink to that, Y/N.”

You observed him for a moment, urging to ask a burning question that you carried since the beginning of your reunion, “How do you feel?”

He stopped drinking and looked at you surprised, “Ravishing, what do you mean?”

“You perfectly know, what do I mean, Baron,” you slowly took another sip of the drink, “You know, you were severely depressed in the jail, so obviously I’m a little bit concerned how do you feel now. You wanted to kill yourself, Zemo. It doesn’t happen just like that,” you snapped your fingers, looking expectantly at him.

“If that will ease your mind upon this matter, I went through the therapy during my incarnation,” he looked at the peaceful night through the window. “ – and it helped for a certain extend.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Zemo. I really am,” you smiled lightly and finished your drink. “You want a refill?” You stood up from your armchair and took his glass, as you headed for the bar. “Same or you want to change for something else?”

“The usual,” you snorted and poured him whiskey.

“So,” you started, handing Zemo his glass back, “shall we speak about something a bit more cheerful?”

As the two of you engaged into conversation, the time passed by unnoticed. You must have admitted that Zemo was a delightful chat partner as he could talk about literary everything starting from political matters and literature to what knife would be the best for a hand-to-hand combat. It was that kind of dispute which was challenging you and yet allowed you to carry it on effortlessly.

Your engagement in conversation with Zemo, reminded you how the two of you had similar talks when he was in German prison. You were quite proud of yourself when you successfully infiltrated that prison posing as a trauma counsellor. There was no real therapy, but it allowed you to plan and implement the escape. Though, now you could see much more emotions and freedom in his talking and way of acting. You found it enjoyable to observe him a bit more alive than he used to be.

At one moment you were standing and slowly dancing to the music played from a gramophone and it was quite blurry for you to recall who came up with this idea. But it was pleasurable when you felt his arm gently resting around your waist as the other supported your hand, even though both of you had some percentages in blood. You were slowly rocking across the room, trying to avoid sneaky furniture that would appear out of nowhere, to your disapproval.

“Maybe it’s best if we sit for now, we’re not the best dancers after this amount of alcohol,” you led Zemo by his hand to the sofa, on which you sat down.

“You look lovely in this dress, Y/N.”

“I know, thank you,” you gave him a cheeky smile, much to his amusement.

“You know what…”

“Are you going to tell me it would look better on the floor?” you interrupted, and Zemo chuckled in response.

“Only if you want to, Y/N,” you shifted on the sofa to move a bit closer towards him.

“What do you want, then?”

“You,” this simple response made you astonished, uncertain what to say.

“Is this drunken you speaking, or real you?” your fingers started slowly caressing the back of his hand, in anticipation of Zemo’s answer.

“What would you like me to be?” you lightly shook your head.

“Does it really matter?” you asked, not really knowing whether you were asking yourself or Zemo. Before he could answer you in any way, you placed a short, uncertain kiss on the man’s lips, which was followed by much longer and needy one. You wanted to retreat after this, to think about it but Zemo’s hand in your hair prevented it sufficiently and pulled you back for another kiss, heated and passionate.

You felt the zip of your dress going down and as you leaned in the kiss, the material slide off revealing your shoulders. You pushed him gently on the sofa seat and comfortably nested yourself on Zemo. Your fingers were tenderly stroking his hair as your kiss became deeper and sweeter with each passing second.

His lips slipped from yours to your jawline and neck leaving trail of messy kisses, each of it awarded by your soft moan. You felt as if you were melting under every single touch, stroke or nip left on your skin.

“Would you like to go somewhere more comfortable?” he asked into your neck, kissing it possessively.

“After you, Helmut,” you placed another peck in the corner of his lips and sat up.

Baron swiftly got up and offered his hand to lead you to the bedroom, where he took his time stripping you out of the dress, along saying how much he admired you and your body. As your apparel hit the floor, it revealed you were wearing no lingerie.

“Y/N,” Zemo chucked huskily, grabbing you by your waist and turning around to see you, “You’re full of surprises, my dear.”

You rested your forearms on his chest observing how his eyes brightened. Your fingers played with the collar of the man’s shirt before leaning in for another kiss, which he tenderly gave you.

“Why am I the only one undressed?” you softly purred, revelling in his gentle strokes. You moved your hands to ably undo his belt and shoulder holster, which were now laying on the floor.

“Is it my fault you weren’t wearing any underwear?”

“Is it my fault you were so eager to undress me?” you replied with another question, working on his clothes. Zemo chuckled allowing you to do further undressing of him. “You know what…” you paused your doings and took your hands away, looking at him slyly, “You’re a big boy, do it yourself.”

You walked away from him with a cheeky smile and sat down on a bed, resting on your palms with crossed legs. Zemo tilted his head letting a quiet sigh of disbelief as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, still maintaining eye contact with you. Oddly, you found it quite erogenous, and your breath quicken a bit watching him stripping the rest of clothes.

“Like what you see?”

“Come to me,” you softly lured, feeling deprived of his touch and affection for too long. You climbed higher on the bed making room for Zemo, who was over you within seconds.

“So needy,” he chuckled darkly, leaving lazily trail of kisses starting on your collar just to end right next to your ear. His hand was exploring your hip, gently clenching fingers into your sensitive skin, enjoying each of your soft moans. “So impatient – and so welcoming.”

You deeply inhaled feeling his fingers inside you, already dripping wet.

“Y/N…” Zemo caught each of your whines with his lips slowly fingering you, “You’re such a beautiful mess.” You laughed in his mouth which quickly turned into loud groan of pleasure as heat inside you was more and more mounting.

“Zemo, I want you,” you said quietly and whimpered as he took his fingers away from you.

“Good Lord, Y/N. You even taste as good as you look,” he smiled devilishly, licking off your juices and suspended any actions, glancing at you somehow distressed.

“What is it?” you looked up, searching for his eyes.

“It’s just been a while since I – ” you shushed him with your finger on his lips.

“Roll over,” you said sternly and surprisingly he was more than happy to oblige and pull you on top, “Good boy, Helmut,” you awarded him with a loving kiss.

You straddled him and helped yourself with your hand to position his member to your entrance, and you slowly lowered down on him. Both of you gasped at the same moment as you froze to feel him better inside you. “You’re quite to take,” you whispered slowly rocking your hips, much to Zemo’s approval. After a moment of his stillness, Zemo started to counter your movements.

“Oh, my – Helmut,” you gasped airlessly feeling his thrusts and trying to keep up with the pace. “Don’t you dare to stop,” you bit your lip, watching what hot mess he became beneath you. It seemed as his hands were all over you, all the time, yet you felt them mostly strongly gripping your hips as he kept thrusting in you.

“You are beautiful, Y/N. I cannot get enough of you,” with each next pound into you, you felt your legs were about to fail you. Zemo saw that as you were faintly allowing your head to fall down with sorrow moans of pleasure.

He unceremoniously flipped you on your back and trapped between the mattress and his body.

“That’s unexpected,” you said pulling him closer, sinking your fingers into his messy hair, “But not unwelcomed.”

“You were barely holding on. I couldn’t allow anything happen to you,” he stated, changing his pace to much slower and mor passionate lovemaking.

“You have well-rested, my dear Bar–ON,” a moan escaped your lips as he suddenly caught your nipple in teeth and bit it.

Zemo hooked your legs around his hips as he started to pound into you mercilessly, catching every single moan and scream of pleasure that escaped your mouth with his indecent kisses. Within a blink of an eye your arms were held by his hand, above your head, much restraining your movement. You tried to squirm your freedom, but he was relentless in overpowering you.

“Don’t move, be a good girl,” his whisper next to your ear made your eyes even darker from lust and you obliged to Helmut’s demand. “Good girl,” he praised you huskily, cupping your breast with the free hand.

“Helmut, I – ” you shivered strongly as your climax was almost there. Your hips were coming ahead his thrust gaining as much friction and stimulation as you could get. “Please, let me go… I want to touch you, to feel you when I come on you,” you pleaded sweetly arching your body toward him even more.

As soon as your arms were free, you clenched them around his upper body, dugging nails into his back. Your breath was becoming more and more frantic as you were on the very edge of your climax. All of your nerves were aching for it to happen, controlling over your body as you softly whimpered into Zemo’s neck nonsense. His brown eyes, now almost black were staring at you as if you were his pray, his victim.

“Don’t you dare stopping n-OW,” you were an absolute mess and him changing pace for the faster one was bringing you over the edge.

“Be a good girl and come for me,” Zemo’s hips were smashing into you with the force you have never suspected him. You nodded sloppily kissing his face wherever you could and then it happened.

You felt overwhelming wave of heat and shivers overpowering your body as your orgasm hit. For a moment you stopped breathing and allowed to be filled with this shake inside you and how your muscles tensed around him. Your arms were holding onto Zemo, whose moves became hastier and erratic, close to his own finale. He rested his head on your shoulder breathing heavily and babbling as with few last thrusts he came in you, with loud moan.

He stopped moving to catch his breath and slowly slipped out of you.

“You are intense, Y/N,” his soft smile was something amazing to observe. You could have sworn there was only affection and nothing more in him, at the moment.

“Well, I got to taste my own medicine, Helmut. I think I might have some bruises,” you looked at him out of breath and satisfied.

Zemo pulled you closer and left few short kisses on your forehead before he spoke to you, “Sleep now, I’ll get you back to boys tomorrow morning.”

As much as you hated the idea of being vulnerable in your sleep, you settled down comfortably next to Zemo, slowly falling asleep. His arm around your shoulder was holding you steadily, yet you could still hear his heart fast beating. Listening to it and how it was getting slower as to the regular hear beat, you found yourself drowsy enough to relax and fall asleep on his chest.

***

Your sleep was abruptly finished by the phone ring.

“Hallo?” you took the phone quickly not to wake up sleeping man next to you.

“Y/N? Care to explain your sudden missing?” you heard James on the other side and stopped breathing for a moment.

You got up and left the bedroom with sleeping Zemo and you replied, “Ich hatte einen Dinge zu machen.[I had some things to do.]”

“Yeah, right. I’m waiting outside,”

“Was? [What?]” a shocked question slipped your lips.

“Das. [That.] I put a tracker on you. I didn’t want another runner like Zemo. Come down or I’ll come for you,” he said and hung up.

FUck, fuck, FUCK, you thought shocked as you started quickly looking for your clothes. Outside the window, you indeed noticed Bucky standing under a street lantern on the opposite side of the hotel’s entrance. As you were gathering your dress and shoes, you noticed some kind of package on a chair, opposite to the bed. You almost omitted it as they were all black and only delicate shimmering in the streetlight, caught your attention.

I hope these will be more comfortable to pursue me in.

You smiled lightly and put the note in the pocket. How come that he could not speak about his feelings but had no problem with showing them in other ways. You took the pile from the chair and you noticed it was surprisingly heavy, as you walked into the bathroom.

How does that man know so much about me?, you asked yourself putting on clothes he prepared. And of course, they fitted you perfectly, which was quite amazing. You haven’t had a slightest idea what kind of material it was, but it felt so comfortable as if you were wearing a second skin. You slipped your feet into boots and laced them thoroughly.

The last thing from the pile was a black box in which you found lather shoulder holster, quite similar to the one Zemo was wearing himself. You put it on and adjusted to your preference and when it was perfectly laying on you, you inserted a gun into the holster.

Before you went away, you have left a short notice foe Zemo that you must have gone.

“Why did you left your position?” he asked as soon as you saw you leaving the hotel, and narrowed his eyes checking out your outfit closely. “Weren’t you wearing a dress?”

“Und jetzt trage ich das. [And now I wear this,]” you answered shortly, unsure how to feel about this whole situation. “Es ist nicht nett, dass du mir nicht vertraust. Aber ich verstehen es. [It’s not nice that you don’t trust me. But I get it].”

“Well, I was right not to trust you, Y/N. Why did you leave?”

“Ich habe dir gesagt, ich musste mich um einige Dinge kümmern. Es ist nicht so, dass ich an euch beide gebunden bin. [I told you, I had some things to attend to. It’s not like I’m bound to you two],” you snarled back at him. “Wo ist Sam? [Where’s Sam?]”

“Back at our hideout,” James sighed quietly and rubbed his eyes. “Alright, listen… You don’t have to tell me why you left, just –,” he stopped for a second looking at you. “Just leave any kind of note that you’re going…”

“Oh, warst du besorgt? [Oh, you were worried?]” you looked at him surprised as he growled with huff. “Das ist schön, James. [That’s lovely, James.]” you mocked him with light smile.

You never would have thought that any of them, James nor Sam, would display any kind of concern of your person. It was even funnier, considering the fact you just did write a note for Zemo, so he would not be troubled about your whereabouts.

“Just don’t do it again, ok?” he looked miserable as you laughed silently at this revelation. You gently patted his arm and nodded to his ask. “You’re not going back there? To your things?”

“Nein, alles ist gut, James. Wir können zurückgehen und darüber nachdenken, was als nächstes zu tun ist. [No, everything is good, James. We can go back and think what to do next,]” you said and started walking down the quiet road.

“I’m afraid no, she wasn’t even there,” Bucky answered and looked at you.

Sweet Lord, these boots are comfortable, you thought taking each next step.

“Haben sie mit diesem Wissenschaftler Glück gehabt? [Did you get any luck with that doctor?]” you asked after a while.

“Verdammt [Damn it],” you muttered under your nose silently, “You’re sure about that? [Bist du darüber sicher?]”

“Yes, we’ve talked to some other scientist that told us, she went missing like three days ago. Presumably taken by the Power Broker, as she was last seen in Madripoor.”

“Verdammt [Damn it],” you repeated louder, which caught Bucky’s attention.

“Why is she so important to you?”

“Willst du wirklich, dass Walker länger ein Supersoldat ist? [Do you really want Walker to be any longer a super soldier?]” you answered with another question. “Ich denke, wir müssen uns ausruhen und dann überlegen, was wir als nächstes tun sollen, [I think, we should take a rest and the think what to do next.]“

“That’s good idea,” he shortly agreed as you came in the apartment.

You noticed Sam sleeping on the sofa under a blanket. Surely something that was taken care of by James.

“I really enjoyed this opera, you know?” you smiled softly hearing it, “It was nice to do something normal? I guess.”

“Ich bin erfreut, das zu hören, [I’m happy to hear it,]” you lowered your voice not to wake the other man.

You looked at James trying to figure out what was he all about. No doubt, he was a caring and a caring persona and that softened you. It was truly awful what happened to him in the past because he did not deserved it at all.

“Es gab nie eine Schwester, [There was never a sister,]” this sentence sounded louder than you thought after a moment of silence.

“I know, Y/N,” you turned to him with surprised expression, a question painted all over your face. “It wasn’t exactly that hard to figure it out, especially since I found your file in published S.H.I.E.L.D. documents.”

You sighed heavily, “Wie viel weißt du [How much do you know]?”

“Pretty much all of it. That you helped Zemo going after the Avengers,” he took off his jacket and hung it over the chair, then continued, “And I just found out about your ailment, you want to treat so badly, Y/N.”

“Okay, willst du dich ausruhen oder darüber reden [Alright, do you want to rest or to talk about it]?” you rubbed your eyes. It was quite late and you dreamt only about continuing your sleep but you couldn’t leave it just like this.

“Let’s talk. We still have some time.”

“Nimm dann die Flasche und zwei Gläser [Grab the bottle and two glasses, then],” you moved to the bedroom and made him space on the bed. “Es wird einige Zeit in Anspruch nehmen [It will take some time],” you said closing the door.

#zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo x y/n #baron zemo x you #baron helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo #reader #fanfic #tfatws

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biomic · 4 years

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What happened in zvd, if you don’t mind me asking? I heard through thirdhand accounts that some people didn’t like it but since I have no clue how to watch it (and have no intentions to) I’d really like to know.

uhhh well i didn’t watch it either, i wasn’t interested when it was announced because more zi-o + another inoue/shirakura power hour didn’t entice me, and then it came out and everyone said it was somehow worse than anyone could’ve imagined. i have seen other people post about it tho, so these are a few of the “highlights” i gleaned from it

first up, we’ve got unnecessary blood and gore, bc of course we do. you’ve got inves eating a bunch of students and then i think there’s a death game aspect? or something? so more people die and get covered in extremely fake looking blood. ow the edge

time jacker baby boy uhr comes out as gay for sougo which like. cool i guess. then he’s murdered or something so it’s worth less than nothing. but hey we had a throwaway line about how love between two men is okay so people on twitter can take that out of context and praise inoue for being a based kino swag gigachad or whatever the fuck they’re talking about over there

then he comes back i think?? and it’s revealed he’s been an alien this whole time. or an alien cyborg, or just a cyborg. who fucking knows. they reused a metal heroes suit from jiraiya/the space squad movies for this but apparently he’s not the actual guy from jiraiya so. Okay.

there’s seven clones or alternate universe versions of sougo running around and one of them is a basketball player who’s revealed to be a robot at the end? i don’t know why they included this whole bit it seemed very stupid

tsukasa gets a dumb ugly updated version of complete form to sell a new toy but he literally jobs so hard apparently. like from what i understand he transforms into this new form and then just fucking loses anyway. i don’t fucking get it

yusuke from decade is back after not appearing in the franchise for over ten years, which is incredible! but then they reveal that it’s an alternate reality version of yusuke who’s evil and a serial killer or something. we do not see the original yusuke to my knowledge, so they completely wasted this rare opportunity to bring ryouta murai back to the role for something special

then tsukasa fucking dies forever and fades away and is like “my journey’s finally come to an end...” so that’s it for our favorite destroyer of worlds. great sendoff. but then i think they tease that he’ll come back ~someday~ at the end

oma zi-o’s also a thing in this but he’s a little kid? like an actual child? don’t ask me i have no clue

woz is there

that’s all i got, if i remembered anything else or dug any deeper i think my brain would deflate. if this sounds incoherent and insane to you that’s because it is

#asks #kendrix morgan died for our sins #kamen rider for ts #Anonymous

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moonscribe · 6 years

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Dungeon Blogging #1: Warlock Necromancers

Once upon a time a friend of mine asked me for advice on how to build a warlock necromancer in 5th edition Dungeons and Dragons. My response was to send them a long string of texts that was my breakdown on the matter. For this new blog series I thought I’d start out with that. So here is my take on building a necromancer as a warlock in 5e.

So necromancers in D&D run into the same problem as animal companions and summoned creatures: action economy. One of the most powerful things that you can do in a turn based game is get more of it, that’s why Extra Attack is such a big deal for combat classes. When you have one or more zombies doing your bidding you’re getting more things that you can do in a turn which is something that Wizards of the Coast is hesitant about giving to low level characters. Because of this, most of the low level “necromancy school” spells (Toll the Dead, Cause Fear) have nothing to do with making undead and your first real necromancy spell Danse Macabre doesn’t show up until level 9.

When a player has a character concept they generally want to play that concept right away. Waiting however many months or years it takes for their character to reach level 9 is not what most players are looking for when they say they wanna be a necromancer. This is why so many campaigns start out with a party of level 3 characters. By level 3 the druids can wildshape, the monks have ki, and every class has chosen their subclass, which is where your character really comes to life.

So assuming you don’t want to wait until you have 5th level spell slots for your character to feel right, there are two things that you need to do: be on good terms with your Dungeon Master (always important) and take advantage of the freedom to reskin and reflavor abilities. The spell Find Familiar is extremely good as it provides a ton of utility and flavor. Every game I’ve played with a character that took this spell has gotten crazy use out of it, it’s hands down one of the most useful 1st level spells in the book. Whatever animal you summon with the spell has either the celestial, fey, or fiend monster type. That’s the rules as written. That said the Player’s Handbook is ultimately a book of suggestions for the DM to use to make their group have a fun experience and in the spirit of such I’d say 95% of them are going to be willing to let you choose undead as your familiar’s type (this may not work in Adventurer’s League). Now imagine your warlock, conspiring with dark forces their familiar perched atop their shoulder, perhaps it’s a zombie weasel or a skeleton crow! There is so much exciting stuff aesthetically to go from here and help flesh out the image of the character you want to play. Now technically Find Familiar is not on the warlock spell list but there are some ways around this without multiclassing to take a level in wizard (though that is an option too).

The first two options are feats so if you’re playing a human you can take these at level 1: Magic Initiate and Ritual Caster. Magic Initiate gives you two cantrips and one 1st level spell that you can cast once per day, they all have to be the same class so your cantrips would be from the wizard spell list giving you good utility options like Message and Mending as well as the necromancy attack options of Toll the Dead and Chill Touch. If you take the Ritual Caster feat then you get to cast wizard spells but only as rituals and you only learn them from scrolls, spellbooks, and the like. The spells you get from these feats will always be cast with your intelligence rather than your Charisma so be wary of that.

The other two options are a little better in my opinion but don’t come until level 3: Pact of the Chain and Pact of the Tome. Pact of the Tome gives you 3 additional cantrips from any class and access to the Book of Ancient Secrets eldritch invocation which functions like the Ritual Caster feat but better since you get access to rituals from any class and still use your charisma. Pact of the Chain is my favorite giving you the ability to cast the Find Familiar ritual as well as access to four, much more powerful familiars: imp, pseudodragon, quasit, and sprite. Imps and quasits are CR1, which is to say a balanced challenge for a party of four level 1 adventurers! Furthermore, they along with the pseudodragon have magic resistance as well as the ability to share their magic resistance with their summoner! Finally, unlike a normal familiar, Pact of the Chain familiars can attack (at the cost of the warlock’s own attack). Now I know you edgy nerds who got this far reading a blog post about how to make a necromancer warlock are going to be at least interested in the idea of summoning a zombie pseudodragon. Its tattered leathery wings and empty eye sockets burning with the cold blue flames of undeath serving as a reminder to everyone you encounter that your totally Chaotic Good and not going to sick your pet the next NPC to draw your ire.

Okay that was a lot more about the Find Familiar spell than I expected to write so I’ll keep the next bit brief.

As I mentioned Danse Macabre (5th level) is your first real necromancy spell. It lets you quickly animate several corpses for combat but its a concentration spell with an hour long duration, after that time the undead return to being normal dead bodies. Wizards, Spore Druids, and Death Clerics all get the 3rd level spell Animate Dead but that’s them and we aren’t so spoiled. At level 11 we get Create Undead which lets us make the more elite undead: ghouls, and later ghasts, wights, and mummies.

At level 9 I’d take the Eldritch Invocation Whispers of the Grave which lets you cast Speak With Dead as many times as you want without spending a spell slot.

Finally when it comes to subclasses there are two patrons who will reward you well for your service.

The first is The Undying from the Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide. This patron is usually a lich on an evil god and it basically sets you up as a lich in training. You get some self healing powers, the undead have trouble attacking you, and at level 10 you don’t require food, water, or sleep (though you still need long rests) and you age at a rate of 1 year for every 10 which is even crazier if you play an elf.

The other patron to look at is The Hexblade. The Critical Role fans reading this (which is to say probably more than half of you) will recognize this as Fjord’s patron. The Hexblade is the most thematically versatile of all of the warlock patrons, the book is vague about what your patron actually is beyond “a mysterious entity from the Shadowfell- a force that manifests in sentient magic weapons carved from the stuff of shadow” so who or what your patron actually is is up to you and your DM. Mechanically the reason that we care is the 6th level class feature Accursed Specter which lets you bind the soul of someone you just killed, raising it as a specter. The Specter gets temporary hit points equal to half your warlock level and a bonus to it’s attacks equal to your charisma modifier so it’s slightly stronger than a normal specter. In addition, it sticks around until you take a long rest at which point it passes on to the afterlife. You can only do this once per long rest so don’t expect to collect a bunch of souls and see how long you can sleep deprive your character.

Although 5th edition is relatively simple, there are a lot of potential combinations to create lots of types of characters. If there was anything I missed be sure to let me know!

If you have a question or idea for a future Dungeon Blogging post be sure to send me an ask! ^^

Edit: I was asked to cite the art used in this post, I don’t know where the bird art was from so I replaced it. I apologize.

Art: Willian Murai, Tianhua X, (I couldn’t find the name of the artist for the last piece but it’s from page 153 of Xanathar’s Guide to Everything).

#5e #Dungeons and Dragons #DnD #Necromancer #Warlock #Dungeon Blogging #Critical Role

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heywhatshouldiwatch · 4 years

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Help, what should I watch if I’m drunk ?

First of all, 3 things :

I said drunk but this article works if you’re high or under any kind of drugs I might not even know about as well.

I’m not here to judge you or your life’s choices.

Alcohol and drugs are bad. Use these substances in moderation. Please.

Having said that, we can get into the heart of the matter. Forget about How High and all that kind of stupid movies your stoner friend loves to talk about all the time as if they were real masterpieces. Because they’re not. I assure you there are lots of other much better movies which you don’t necessarily think about when it’s time to watch something while you’re stoned, drunk or whatever your state is. Sometimes, these movies even have nothing to do with drugs, but they’re so absurd there is no need.

The Big Lebowski, Joel & Ethan Coen (1998)

Ok, I have to admit this one was easy, but we can’t get tired of it. The Big Lebowski is doubtless one of the best movies ever made. And I use the term « movies » and not « comedies » on purpose : I really think that this movie is way more than just a refreshing comedy. The story follows Jeff Lebowski, better known as « the Dude », who is going to be mistaken for a millionaire of the same name. While the Dude just trying to get his carpet replaced - the two guys who confused him with the other Lebowski urinated on it - he’ll find himself involved in a dangerous mission with his bowling buddies. The Dude may be vulgar, lazy, weed and White Russian addict, he’s also the coolest character cinema has ever seen.

A Town Called Panic, Stéphane Aubier and Vincent Patar (2009)

I still remember when I saw this movie for the first time. I was captivated all along and at the end, I was asking myself : what the f*ck did I just watch ? This Belgian film is absolutely surreal. The story is about two friends, Cowboy and Indian, who want to find the perfect gift for their friend’s birthday, Mr Horse’s. Spoiler alert : their plan turns out to be a total disaster. After they accidentally destroyed Mr Horse’s house, they will be taken in a hilarious and absurd journey to the center of the earth, where they’ll find a secret and dangerous underwater universe. I told you, this movie is totally surreal. And great. Even if you probably won’t understand everything, you’ll laugh for sure.

By the way, this movie’s humour and the stop-motion animation remind a lot of Wallace and Gromit’s universe.

The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, Wes Anderson (2004)

This movie is about a sea expedition in order to hunt down a mysterious creature, a « leopard shark », that killed the partner of Steve Zissou, the main character played by the legendary Bill Muray. Besides being visually beautiful, the story is absolutely insane and all the characters hilarious. This expedition is also about making a documentary of it, so you basically have a movie within the movie. Zissou’s crew will also have to espace from pirates and a multitude of other incredible situations. The Life Aquatic is definitely unique, brillant and imaginative. Impossible to get bored while watching it.

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ciccidelacerda · 5 years

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— ♔ In the past, people were born royal and for ELIOS CILLIAN CARMINATI the TWENTY-EIGHT-year-old PRINCE of MONACO, that is a tradition HE intends to keep. To others, HE looks an awful lot like EZRA MILLER and has been painted as A HAUGHTY AND PAMPERED PRINCE! but behind closed doors, HE is ALOOF AND SENSITIVE but also SOFTHEARTED AND CONSCIENTIOUS. It has also been said they are BETROTHED to TEISHIKATA KUNIHIKO, WEN JUN HUI, MURAI NAOYUKI, XU KE, OSRIC CHAU, BOOBOO STEWART, RAMI MALEK, CHARLES MELTON OR ANY MALE POC.

[{ Eyyy there party peepolll~ so here’s my babu Elios <3 pls be kind and gentle to dis boi hurt him a lot thanks }]

He doesn’t like socializing that much, prefers to talk with people he’s only really close with. When in front of the press doing his royal duties, he has this stoic aura to him that’s both firm and in-control. Behind closed doors though, he can be a meek and stuttering guy who’s just shy all of the time.

He still feels sensitive when talking about the scandals he did when he was a teenager. He doesn’t do any of them anymore but, will drink on some occasions if needed. Bringing those up with him will hurt Elios a lot and will make him dislike you.

He rarely ever leaves Monaco, the only times he goes out is when his duties need him to or when he has to visit his fiancé from the other country. Moving to Russia and in a new unfamiliar palace gets him homesick too much. He might be a lot more sensitive than usual, especially since he’s not close to the sea (his second home).

He likes to debate, it’s one of his favorite past times that includes talking to other people. He likes people who are quick-witted and knowledgeable. He’s not a fan of sports but, will accompany you to them as long as he gets to bring a book of his.

On his free time when Elios is not studying, sailing, or feeling homesick. The raven likes to paint. He’s had a passion for art since he was a boy and if it were not for his royal duties, Elios would’ve liked to pursue a career as a painter.

Elios’ forte is painting landscapes, his best piece is a painting of the rising sun on the Mediterranean Sea. He gave that painting to his grandmother.

His favorite food is fougasse and cheese. You can literally catch him sneaking to the kitchen to get a slice of cheese or other food that goes along well with it. He’s a cheese monster.

His parents names him Elios of the sun god Helios. He was supposedly going to be named either Helios or Elio but, his parents thought Elios sounded better.

Although he was named after Helios, Elios in fact does not like the sun that much. Expect when he’s sailing of course, clear skies are good when in the sea. But, when he’s at home he prefer a rainy day, tucked under a couple of blankets while reading a good book.

If ya guys want to connect with him or smth, here’s his connection page plssomeoneapplyashisfiancéilovethisonebsdijanfjksd

tbh I wanted to name him Éloíse but after finding out it was a girl name I was like--- fuck it! bwuahahha I’ll make my own name lol so anyways, I hope you guys like him and let’s all have fun rp-ing <3

#wor.intro #ey guys #it be me again #lol #have fun with this lil facts about him #bsdjalbvjks

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dib-adrift · 5 years

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[ @dib-adrift @addie-bear @high-chancellor-raask ]

((The following includes mentions of prostitution and a murder. Read at your own risk))

The gala was as big and extravagant as everyone had been going on about. The ballroom was huge, with a high, domed ceiling, a view of the glittering, purple sky above. There were giant staircases and over a dozen tables, everything decked in dark navy and gold. Galactic Alliance colors.

Dib was also put in these colors. His outfit was unlike one he’d ever worn. A dark blue tunic with gold buttons, each one surrounded by intricate gold embroidery. The pants he was wearing were far softer and nicer than any other he’d worn. He still had his boots and coat, which he was grateful for. They’d just been cleaned up a bit, as to not take away from the rest of his outfit.

He’d already been around the room twice and shook a few dozen hands. He couldn’t remember a single name he’d been told. He wasn’t sure if that was important. He had a feeling he wasn’t the real star here. Which was fine. Poised over in a corner, he could keep an eye on Addie, who was currently talking for some diplomat from...Murac? Murai? Nero? Eh, whatever. He was certain she’d remind him at some point.

Addie made sure to remember every name, to ensure she said the right thing. She’d studied aggressively about every diplomat and representative that was going to be here. She was taking no chances tonight. These things was where the real stuff happened.

She certainly wasn’t fond of being showed off in such a matter, like she was a pretty trophy that Dwicky had won. She wondered for only a moment if Dibkins felt this way sometimes. Probably not. He liked dressing up and looking pretty. Addie did as well, but she wished immensely that she’d had a say in the dress she was wearing. It was lilac, off the shoulders, with bright gold loops weaving along the bodice and skirt. None of that bothered her. What did was the excessive frills along the hems. Oh, and the slit along the side that was uncomfortably high.

She also did not want how the seamstresses and stylists knew her size. She hadn’t been measured, and somehow she now had several outfits that fit her like a glove. She shook her head. Curiosity killed the cat.

How many people did that saying really stop, though?

Dwicky had to admit, he was rather impressed. He’d sort of expected Dib to be an awkward mess, but Adalet worked the room with such poise and grace and charm, that for once he could actually believe she came from royalty. He watched her carefully over his glass of bourbon. He still wasn’t quite sure what to think of her being here. Then again, so far, she’d been nothing but a new splendid asset.

Still…

He placed his empty glass down, knowing one of the servants around here would take it away, making his way over to her.

Dib had finally gotten himself a drink, taking care not to overdo it. He wasn’t necessarily a lightweight, but he had to be on his best behavior here. He looked around, noticing Dwicky making his way over to Addie. He moved along the wall, slowly, keeping his distance, but keeping a close eye on the girl he’d found himself working with.

They’re daughter.

“Why don’t you just say you’re in love with my parents?”

He shook his head. He couldn’t think those things. Not right now. He had a job to do. He had to focus.

Addie found herself in the middle of a debate about weather kale was better or spinach. Honestly, she almost felt sorry for these people, to lead such dull lives that they were arguing over vegetables. She was just about to excuse herself, move on to the next guest, but was stopped as someone stepped in her way.

“High Chancellor,” she said, her tone neutral and unwavering. “Something I can help you with?”

Dwicky watched her a little longer before making his final approach. He eyed something off to the side, before looking down at Addie with a grin. “Would you mind dancing with me for a moment?” It wasn’t a request.

Addie stared at him for a moment, trying to think of some reason she could use to refuse that wouldn’t get her into trouble. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of one, and so she took his hand and nodded.

Being royalty and going to military school, she knew quite a bit about dancing. She didn’t tense at all when Dwicky put his hand on her waist, leading her in a waltz on the floor.

Dib continued to watch them, still keeping his distance. If Addie was uncomfortable she didn’t show it, but he couldn’t help but feel...something. A burning in his stomach. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to keep himself calm.

“Enjoying yourself, little bird?” He asked, leading the dance perhaps a little too dramatically.

Addie had no trouble keeping pace. Dancing wasn’t too different from combat. Place your feet her, turn there, and make sure you don’t fall down. At this point in her life she could waltz with her eyes shut. “Very much so, sir. This was a good idea on your part.”

“Of course it was. After all, everyone should know that the oh so famous Nightingale of Justice has decided this side is the right side. And, may I say, I am rather impressed with how you work a room. These leaders seem rather...enamored with you.” He spun her suddenly, pulling her around so that her back was toward him. He kept his grip tight, making certain she couldn’t move. “Especially Lord Durga.”

Despite Addie’s instincts, she didn’t even try to struggle, looking exactly where Dwicky wanted her to look. She’d just had a conversation with Durga about an hour ago, and he wouldn’t stop trying to touch her. She’d lost count of how many times she’d had to step away.

“You know,” Dwicky said, his voice suddenly lower than before. Like a snake hiding in the grass. “I used to send Chance off with him sometimes. You know, as a means of negotiation.” His fingers ran across the gold comb that held her bun in place. “I’m sure I don’t need to explain what I mean.”

He didn’t. Addie knew exactly what he meant. She knew all about how Dwicky used to pimp Chance out to people so he’d have an easier time making deals. She swallowed hard, burying whatever words threatened to erupt. “Why are you telling me this, sir?”

“Well, Chance isn’t here, is he?” Dwicky told her. “And as I said, Lord Durga seems very fond of you.”

Addie took a moment to look at Dwicky out of the corner of her eye. So...that’s how it was going to be, then? She looked back over at Lord Durga. He looked almost human save for the two extra eyes on his forehead. She bit her tongue. She couldn’t disobey.

Dwicky twirled her out of his old before pulling her back into the waltz. “You’ll be a good girl, won’t you Commander Denivar?”

Addie remained impassive. “Yes sir.”

Dib took a step forward when he saw the way Dwicky was handling Addie, but remembered himself, along with Addie’s words. He knew they were a warning. He had to be careful, after all. Then he noticed how she left the dance, left the dance floor. She reluctantly stood in the hallway for a moment before continuing out of the ballroom.

Dib’s eyes went back to Dwicky. Who was he nodding to? He scanned the room, seeing one of the fancy dressed diplomats get up. He looked way too happy with himself as he exited the room himself. Dib’s brow furrowed as he walked over to Dwicky.

“Can I ask what that was about, High Chancellor?” he asked.

“Of course you can, my boy,” Dwicky said, snapping his fingers at one of the waiters. Within seconds he had another glass of bourbon in his hands. “Negotiations, is all. And, well...I’m afraid a girl like that does need to prove her loyalty somehow.”

Dib stared at him for a moment, trying to keep what he was truly feeling to himself. He then nodded. “I see,” he said, beginning to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Dwicky asked.

“Just to get some air,” Dib replied, making his way out of the ballroom.

Addie went to the room she was told to go to, making sure no one else followed her or Lord Durga. She stood by the doorway, waiting, ready. The door opened, and the lord stumbled in, obviously drunk, laughing. “Where are you, pretty girl?”

Addie wasted no time, lifting the syringe in her hand and stabbing it into Durga’s neck. He grunted a couple of times, struggling with the potent sedative she’d put in there, but eventually he fell to the floor completely unmoving.

“Good think you like you liquor, huh?” She said, capping the empty syringe and replacing it in her garter on unexposed thigh.

As she exited the room, she found Dib coming from the other end of the hall. She rose a brow at him. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing here I’m checking on you,” Dib told her, offended that she would think anything else.

Addie rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Dib. I took care of it.” Her mouth twitched, but she didn’t let the smile happen.

Dib gave her a confused look before moving a bit to look behind her into the room. His eyes widened. “You killed him?!”

“Would you keep your voice down!” She scolded him. “And I didn’t kill him. I gave him a super strong sedative. He’ll be out until morning.”

“Addie I don’t think he’s breathing.”

Addie rolled her eyes. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll check his pulse.” She knelt down, pressing two finger to where she thought a blood vessel might be. She furrowed her brow, then rolled him over to listen to his for any sign of breathing. She sat up and blinked. She knew she should have read the dosing instructions. This was why she wasn’t a doctor. “Well...I guess you’re right this time.”

“Addie this is serious you just killed someone! You killed one of Dwicky’s allies!”

“Dwicky doesn’t have allies he has chess pieces. And this isn’t the first time I’ve killed someone.” She stood up and brushed off her dress before walking past Dib back out into the hall. “Close the door behind you, will you?”

Dib stood there, dumbfounded. What did...any of that mean? He took one more look at the dead body before sighing roughly and making his way out, shutting the door behind him just like Addie asked.

He supposed they would deal with this later.

#|birds of prey|#tw creepy #tw murder #tw needles #tw drugs #tw sedation #tw alcohol #tw prostitution #tw prostitution mention

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ohmytheon · 6 years

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heroes in the dark (19)

title: heroes of the dark

summary: Uraraka has spent almost a year grieving the loss of Deku, the greatest hero and her love, but life is slowly moving on. She’s got her job, her family, and even a strange friendship with Bakugou. Things are looking hopeful. Until Deku comes back and he’s not what he seems. Something is wrong with his mind, but Uraraka will be damned if she lets him fall again. (Villain!Deku)

– Chap 19: An interview on the news shatters the respite.

notes: And this chapter finally marks the return of Bakugou! Kind of. I missed writing him in this fic. He just demands attention. Also, I love writing jealous and possessive Deku, so this was a fun one. This chapter connects with Chapter 13, so we've officially caught up and are back on track with the timeline.

"Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy." -- F. Scott Fitzgerald

After taking a deep breath, Deku pulled away from her and asked, “Are you hungry?” Her immediate thought was of Murai’s dead boy, so no, she wasn’t, but there was a strange glow in Deku’s eyes that she couldn’t ignore, so she shrugged her shoulders in response. “I’m hungry. I’ll get us something to eat -- a snack. What do you want? Wait! I’ll surprise you.”

He was manic, similar to how he would get when he’d get an idea and start mumbling to himself. She missed those moments. When she’d first met him, it had thrown her off, but after a while, she had gotten used to it and the sound of him muttering to himself had comforted her. They could be at their apartment and she would hear him going at it while watching the news on tv while she was in another room. She’d always smile to herself. It was just so him. He couldn’t help himself, even after all these years.

This though? His rambling threw her off and she couldn’t keep up with him.

Before she could even say anything, Deku kissed her on the cheek and then practically ran out the door. He was buzzing with energy. It was like he’d been holding it all in while trying to be calm and soothing with her before, but he couldn’t hide it any longer. He had been energetic before, somewhat high strung and always in motion in his fight to become the number one hero, but this was different.

While he was gone, Uraraka slid off the bed and carefully made her over to the closet so that he wouldn’t aggravate her ankle. She opened it and slowly crouched down on one foot until she was sitting down so that she could see her reflection in the broken mirror. Tilting her head to the side, she took a closer look at her exposed neck, which she hadn’t been able to see for herself. As soon as she saw the bruises, she hissed.

No wonder Deku had reacted so furiously. The bruises around her neck were ugly and noticeably shaped like fingers. It still ached some, but not nearly as bad as before. Hopefully they would fade soon. She had a feeling they would only serve as reminders and would aggravate Deku further.

Sighing tiredly, she pulled herself up and shut the closet door. Putting most of her weight on her good foot and ankle, she leaned her forehead against the wood and closed her eyes. It had only been about three days, but it felt as if a lifetime had passed. So much had happened. She’d spent half of it unconscious and yet she was still worn to the bone.

No, she had to push further. She had to reach deep inside herself and light the fire that spurned her forward. There was no way that she was going to give up. No until she died would she give in to despair. She wouldn’t give in like Mr. Compress had said and she wouldn’t simply accept that this was how things were. Life would never be able to go back to the way it was, not with all the things that Deku had done, but she couldn’t let him go either. She loved him too much to do that.

The door opened and Deku stepped inside. The smile fled from his face when he saw her standing. “Hey, what are you doing up?” He rushed to set the tray of food down before hurrying over to her. “You could aggravate your ankle doing that.”

“I’m fine, Deku, honest,” Uraraka replied, although she let him guide her back to the bed. She could put pressure on her ankle well enough. It hurt, but it wasn't impossible to walk on. If she pushed herself through the pain, it wouldn’t hurt anymore. That was what she did whenever she got hurt while on the job. It was what Deku had done. What Bakugou did. What Todoroki was doing now. It was what heroes did.

“I know, but I want you to be careful,” Deku told her as she sat back down. “Look, I-I got a few things.” He turned back to grab the tray and set it on the bed next to her. “I didn’t know what you want so I…” His mind caught up with his mouth and he stopped to look at her, biting to his lip and breathing quickly. Hesitantly, he reached out to run his fingers through her hair. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Uraraka breathed, “it’s okay.”

A smile twitched back onto Deku’s face. He sat down on the bed, the tray of food in between them, and she pulled legs up so that she could sit cross-legged and face him. They used to do this before, back when they lived with each other. On the days when he had some extra time in the morning, he’d make breakfast and bring it to her in bed. They could spend their morning together without getting out of bed, the comforter still warming her legs and pillows behind her back as the sun lit up the bedroom.

There was very rarely a special occasion for it; he just liked doing it for her. That was the one of the sweetest things about him. He didn’t wait for it to be a certain day to do special things for her. There would just be flowers on a Tuesday or he’d make her lunch with a silly note attached on a Thursday or she’d come home to him drawing a bath for her just the way she liked it on a Monday or she’d wake up to him kissing her cheek and she’d turn to face him and open herself up to him and it was so sweet and good and she would miss all the sleep in the world for a moment like that on a Saturday.

He wanted that again. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his words, feel it in his hands. He wanted their life.

But it didn’t fit with the one he had now. He had to know that.

“Oh, watch this!” Deku said excitedly, snatching a few grapes from the plate. He practically jumped off the bed and got in a stance, picking one grape with his fingers out of his hand. “I’m better at it now. Lots of practiced.” Tossing a grape up in the air, he leaned forward to catch it with his mouth and then grinned at her triumphantly. “Good, right? I used to miss all the time before.”

Uraraka smiled at him and clasped her hands together. “Very good. But you still move too much.”

“You think you can do better?” Deku teased playfully.

“I know I can,” Uraraka responded. She picked a grape and tossed it in the air, catching it with her mouth without having to move from her spot on the bed. She swallowed it down and then stuck her tongue out at him. He had such good coordination thanks to training and his quirk, but for some reason, he could never master something as simple as catching food with his mouth. He’d always beamed himself in the face or threw it too off. “You need a little more control.”

Deku shook his head, but there was a gentle smile on his face that made her heart yearn for more. “Show off.” He picked another grape and threw it up in the air, this time spinning around and then leaning back to catch it with his mouth. He turned back to face her and held out his hands. “Tada!”

“You really have been practicing,” Uraraka said.

There had been so many playful moments when they would take turns tossing small bits of food back and forth to each other on the couch or over the counter that separated the kitchen and the living room. Half the time, Deku would either miss or get hit in the face, but they would laugh every time, despite his mounting frustration. He never got angry over it though. Sometimes, as a joke, she would toss something to him, but her quirk would be activate. He’d go to catch it, but then it would never come down, so he’d look ridiculous and she would laugh herself silly.

Uraraka moved to do it, but then hesitated and set the food back down. She couldn’t do it now since she didn’t have access to her quirk.

Luckily, Deku missed her hesitation, so quick that it was almost like it hadn’t happened. He was brimming with an excited energy, pleased to have captured this sweet moment of their old life with her. It was giving him a false sense of hope, but one that she didn't dare take away from him. To be honest, she was relieved to see him like this, even if it was such a stark and terrifying contrast to how he’d been hours ago. Despite her fears, she found herself relaxing and reveling in the brightness that surrounded him.

This was the Deku she loved, she told herself. This was the Deku she’d missed.

When he paused to gaze at her, she could feel his desire wash over her. It would’ve been the perfect moment for it too, just what they would’ve done before. Those little moments when he was laughing and smiling without a care in the world, as if he didn’t have its weight on his shoulders at all times. It was too much. She’d feel herself swelling with the need for more and he’d sweep her in his arms and carry her to the bedroom or lean over her on the couch or even be silly and roll onto the floor.

How many times had he told himself to be patient? Even before he’d appeared back in her life. She’d had to mourn him; he’d been forced to bide his time. It left two different kinds of wanting in them.

A knock on the door cut the tension in the room, drawing both of their attention to it. “Hey, Midoriya?” an anxious voice on the other side called. She vaguely recognized it, knowing she’d heard that voice before, but couldn’t connect a face to it. Whoever it was must have been told about Deku’s explosion. They didn’t sound too excited to be fetching him.

Deku huffed. “What is it now?”

“You’re needed.”

“I asked to not be disturbed,” Deku sighed, like the job of being a villain was an inconvenience sometimes. “Can’t you all do things without me for one minute?”

“Yeah, um, we would, but…” The discomfort could not be more obvious. “This is something you need to see. Kyōmu doesn’t want you to feel blindsided.”

Deku furrowed his brow and his body went slack. The mention of Kyōmu seemed to have some sort of effect on him, perhaps making him more submissive, but it was hard to tell. He might’ve just been confused and lost in thought about what they could possibly need him to see that was so important.

After casting a glance at Uraraka, Deku started for the door, but stopped when Uraraka said, “You can’t keep doing this.” He didn’t move to face her at first, keeping his eyes locked ahead of him, but she knew that his focus lied on her and her words. He licked his lips and then opened his mouth to counter her, maybe question what she meant, but then he closed it again. He knew better. “Locking me up in here. Leaving me to wait for you to return. You can’t. It’s not…”

“I know,” Deku said quietly to the door.

“I’m not some sort of doll,” Uraraka told him.

Deku closed his eyes. “I know, but you have to be patient. We both have to be patient. It’s the only way.” And then he left her alone again, his body tense and sullen.

Maybe she shouldn’t have reminded him that they couldn’t keep this up. As much as it shamed her, it had been nice to live the illusion, if only for a little. She was so tired of having to put up a front with him. He had done so many horrific things, but then he’d do something as silly as try to do tricks while catching grapes with his mouth and she wanted it so desperately to be real. It cut away at her heart. It was all too easy to fall back into the thought that they were back in their home together, just the two of them enjoying a rare day off together.

Every time he left her though, the dream was shattered and she was left in a hollow state.

Not knowing how long she would be left alone this time, Uraraka was caught off guard when Deku throw the door open, so hard that the door knob banged against the wall and put a dent in it. She drew back on the bed. “That was quick--”

When Deku’s eyes landed on her, Uraraka pulled herself further away unintentionally. There was anger in those bright green eyes and pain as well. He looked manic again, but in a different way. She had nowhere to go, but she still flinched away from him as he stormed over to her and grabbed her by the wrist. “Come with me.” His tone was mostly flat with just a hint of something underneath it, something that made her resist briefly.

“What’s going on?” Uraraka demanded, finding herself being pulled off the bed. She landed hard and stumbled when he pulled her across the room to the door, wincing before she could stop herself. Deku hesitated, his eyes flickering to her bandaged ankle, and he took a deep breath. He clearly had been prepared to drag her through the hallways, but if he did that, she’d hurt herself and he would be going back on his word again.

The walk to the room where they’d first appeared upon stepping through the warp gate was a slow and painful one, not just because of her sprained ankle. She halted and involuntarily pulled back a little when she saw that there were other villains in the room, but Deku pulled her forward and she had no choice but to move. Half their eyes were on her while the others were focused on a television.

Uraraka was busy glaring back at them when her eyes snagged a familiar voice saying, “...unsure of his motives at this point,” and her attention snapped to the screen.

There, standing in front of the UA gates, were Aizawa and Bakugou, the latter of whom was wearing most of his hero costume sans his grenade gauntlets. Aizawa was as unreadable as ever, not even these hounds of reporters able to breach the wall he put up. As much as he hated the media, preferring to stay hidden, Aizawa was the perfect defense against them. Sure, he could get worked up about his students and colleagues, but it was hard to rile him up.

Bakugou, on the other hand, could not hide his fury, no matter how much impassive he tried to appear. He was doing his best to maintain a blank face, but there was so much heat in his red eyes that the cameras seemed to flinch away from him and tried to focus on Aizawa alone. He had his arms folded across his chest, a tightly coiled spring of barely contained anger, ready to explode at any moment. He did poorly with reporters as well, snapping at them and brushing off questions that he thought meaningless. In his mind, being liked had little to do with being a hero, despite what Kirishima and Uraraka had tried to impress on him.

The fact that he was out there willingly facing the reporters, who were no doubt acting ruthlessly, meant a lot. When his eyes caught the camera for the news station the television was tuned into, a breath hitched in Uraraka’s throat and she had to bite back a gasp. It was as if he was looking directly into her eyes, like he knew she was watching and he could see her. She felt known and terrified at the same time.

I’m coming for you. That was what those eyes said in her mind. She wondered if Deku saw the same.

As a reporter began to hammer them on their plans to protect civilians. video to the side popped up. Uraraka’s eyes widened. It was a video clearly shot with a phone camera of their battle with the League and Deku to save Kaminari. Someone had captured it and the leaked the video to the public. It left Uraraka floundering. Now the public knew what Deku had turned into. The public must have been left floundering. He’d been in the top five at his death. Hero society was being rocked.

When questions turned to the topic of Uraraka’s and Todoroki’s kidnappings, Deku’s grip on her wrist tightened to the point of being painful. She bit her lip, not wanting to make a sound, and jerked a little. When it didn’t get his attention right away, she jerked harder and he let go of her wrist without looking back at her or apologizing. His entire focus was locked on the screen. No, it was on Bakugou.

The one reporter’s question about whether or not Uraraka’s decision to go with Deku willingly meant that she was a villain caught her off guard. Truth be told, she hadn’t thought about what it might look like to outsiders when she had held out her hand and told Deku to take her with him. It had never crossed her mind that people would think she was a villain too. The only things on her mind had been stopping Deku and saving Bakugou. She couldn’t afford to worry about anything else. There hadn’t been the time. She hadn’t known what else to do and if that would even work.

She knew that Bakugou was going to snap just from the way his eyes flashed and he ripped the microphone out of the offending reporter’s hands. The camera zoomed in on him, the video of the fight falling to the wayside.

“Listen up because I’m only going to say this once,” Bakugou snarled, righteous indignation on his face. “Uravity is a damn hero. She saved our lives that night, as she has done countless of times before. She saved my life.” She could only stare at the screen as his words pierced her heart and bounced around in her head. He wasn’t talking to the reporters. He was talking to them -- to the villains, to her, to Deku . “I’m not going to tolerate any of you assholes speculating about her integrity. You don’t know a damn thing about what she’s gone through. She is stronger than any of you know and she has and will do everything in her power to save everyone.”

There was a clear shift in the room, many of the villains casting looks her way. There was Ikeda in the corner by the door, seemingly hiding under a large shawl, glancing in her direction with dark shadows under her eyes that rivaled Aizawa’s on the television. Mr. Compress was standing to her left at the wall, hands casually tucked into his pants pockets with a leg bent and foot propped up on the wall. Even with his mask on, he looked curious. Uraraka recognized the villain that had sniffed and teased her about smelling like nitroglycerin, a smug grin tugging at her lips as she breathed deeply and sighed. A few others were there, ones that she recognized and many that she didn’t.

The one noticeable absence was Dabi, who must have still been in the cells with Todoroki. It made her anxious, knowing the two were probably alone, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Kurogiri stood near the television, his vibrant yellow eyes focused on Deku instead of her. It was hard to gage what he was feeling, but he seemed almost...concerned. Even Kyōmu was in the room, his eyes sweeping from Deku to Uraraka.

She wanted to glare at him, but Bakugou’s words had taken the breath right out of her chest. He was so livid about the reporter’s accusation, so passionate in his defense of her, that it was almost blinding. He was squeezing the microphone so tightly that she was worried he might explode it.

Bakugou wasn’t done though. Her mind was sent reeling when she said that the villains were scared because of how quiet they’d been since the drag out fight a few days ago. What was he talking about? Scared? Was he trying to piss them off? Deku was practically vibrating with rage beside her, back to where he’d fallen hours ago. No, no, she couldn’t let him do that. She couldn’t let him fall victim to that anger again, but she was terrified of touching him. The moment Bakugou had started talking about her, Deku had gone cold.

“It’s clear that the League is relying on Deku’s strength, so what does that tell us? Besides him, they’re weak. They’re nothing but a bunch of cowards who barely have the ability to keep Deku completely on their side. Take him out and they’ll crumble.”

When Bakugou pointed directly into the camera, Uraraka’s heart skipped a beat. Oh. He was trying to piss them off. He was talking directly to them. The media was just a means to an end. Bakugou wanted to draw Deku back out into the light. Maybe they’d developed a plan in the last few days. Maybe he was just furious enough to do something absolutely crazy and stupid. She wanted to beg Bakugou to stop -- to somehow reach out to him through the screen and shake some sense into him -- but this was him making a stand. So far, Deku and the villains had set the court every single time. This was the heroes attempt to make the villains come to them.

“And I’m going to take him out. Mark my words. Your time is coming to an end and I will get Uraraka and Todoroki back.” The sneer on Bakugou’s face was reminiscent of their early days at UA, ugly and thick with smugness, the kind of look that would throw Deku back to when Bakugou had lorded over him with his strength. “Unless they’re too afraid to come out of hiding.”

Uraraka closed her eyes for a few seconds and tried to steady her breathing. What had Bakugou done? They had no idea what Deku was capable of. None of them did.

On screen, the camera panned to show Bakugou storming away while Aizawa continued to answer questions, but it was clear that Deku had checked out the second Bakugou had shoved the microphone back into the reporter’s hands. A few of the villains eyed him edgily, Kyōmu with more than a hint of interest, but no one said anything. It wasn’t until Kyōmu snapped his fingers that the villains began to move and file out of the room through various exits. Kyōmu was last, tapping his chin thoughtfully, but then he too left, so that Uraraka and Deku were alone.

Instead of feeling safer with the other villains gone though, Uraraka felt boxed in and trapped. They’d left her with Deku for a reason.

And that reason was that he was about to erupt.

“Is it true?” Deku asked, his eyes on the screen as the news station showed old footage of pro heroes Ground Zero and Deku together back in the day. There was Bakugou’s muted aggravation but respect while Deku smiled and waved at the camera after a well-done villain takedown. Uraraka bit her lip. What could she say? She couldn’t just lie to him. He would know the truth. “Is it true?”

“Deku, I--”

“Don’t lie to me!” Deku snapped, his voice strained and hurt. Uraraka pressed her lips together. He turned his head to gaze at her, his face filled with anguish. It was a look that spoke of betrayal. “Did you come here for him? Did you just ask me to take you so you could save him? Was it about Kacchan this whole time?”

Never. Yes. No. Maybe. No.

Uraraka closed her eyes and swallowed. “Please--”

“Is that who you want?” Deku pointed the screen which showed Bakugou snarling and practically threatening the reporters again. He looked dangerous on there, but Deku felt dangerous here. “Is that what you want?” She shook her head, lips trembling as she tried to come up with an answer. “Why? Why did you come here? Why did you ask me to take you if it was only for--?”

“It was the only way,” Uraraka cut in.

“The only way for what?” Deku demanded, turning his body completely to face her. “Did you come here for me or for him?” He stepped closer to her and it took everything in her will not to step back. The power radiating from him was overwhelming and he hadn’t even activated his quirk. “Answer me, Ochako! For him or for me?”

“I came here for you!” Uraraka shouted, clenching her fists at her side. “I came here to save you!”

Deku stared at her, light flickering in his eyes, like one second it was him and the next it wasn’t. There was a hard edge to his expression, one that made her think that if she said the wrong word, it would be all over. He’d take her to Kyōmu. He’d have her twisted under Kyōmu’s quirk. He would get what he wanted, but at a price and she was scared because then Deku really would be gone for good.

“Prove it,” he said, the words sounding as if they had been scraped out of him.

Uraraka held up her hands and dropped them in defeat. “What do you want me to do, Deku? What can I possibly do to prove it to you? To show that I’m here for you?” Tears stung her eyes, angry and scared and devastated. She shook her head and took a shaky breath. “What? What do you expect of me?”

“I want to know that you didn’t just come here for Kacchan!” Deku yelled back, catching her off guard with his anger and possessiveness. “That you belong with me and you’re mine and you love me, not him!”

“I do love you!” Uraraka exclaimed, forcing herself toward him. She held his face in her hands, wishing against everything that she could activate her quirk, and pressed her lips against his in a searing kiss. She put everything she had into it: all her desperation, fear, rage, love, grief, hope, desires. She gave it all to him right then and there, not holding herself back.

Gods, she’d fucking missed him. She wanted him to come back to her so badly.

Deku reacted instantly, taking hold of her arms and kissing her back just as fiercely. He pushed hard against her, forcing her backwards until her back slammed into the wall. One of his hands slid up her neck and into her hair, tugging on it almost painfully. He kissed her until she was gasping for air, like he was claiming her, as if he could mark her as his, and no one else would be able to touch her, least of all Bakugou.

He only stopped when he had to breathe and he pulled away only an inch, pressing his forehead against hers, his whole body vibrating with just barely contained wanting. He moved his hand from her hair to touch her cheek, rubbing his thumb over a pink circle, and pressed his other hand against the wall by her head.

“He wasn’t lying though, was he?” Deku murmured. “You did save him. You did it to save him.”

“I did it to save you both,” Uraraka replied, her voice cracking as her throat constricted. Her fingers dug into his hair, clinging onto him tightly and pulling him closer. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t let you hurt him like that.” Deku took a shuddering breath, but he didn’t pull away like she feared he would. “You never told me exactly what happened between you two when you were kids. You had every opportunity and I would have… I would have probably hated him for what he did to you.”

Deku said nothing, only breathed, and she had to believe that was a good thing. Every word she said made her feel like she was digging her grave deeper, but they had to be said. It was bound to come out sooner or later, so it might as well be now. Of course, it didn’t make her any less afraid. If she said the wrong word, there was a chance that Deku would snap, no matter what he’d told her earlier.

“But you didn’t talk about it. You didn’t want us to think he wasn’t a hero. You knew he was, despite everything, and by believing in him, you gave him the ability to grow into who he is now.” Uraraka pulled away from him, but forced him into look her in the eyes. She didn’t care if she looked like a mess right now. She didn’t care if he saw the pain and fear in her eyes as long as he saw how much she cared too. “I couldn’t let you dash that away, one of your greatest abilities as a hero.”

Deku scoffed halfheartedly. “And what’s that?”

“To see the good in people and bring it to the light,” Uraraka told him. “To forgive but never forget.” She gave him a watery smile. “I wouldn’t be the hero I am today without you. Neither would Bakugou or Todoroki, Tsu or Iida.” Her lips trembled and her hands shook. “I had to save you both. It was the only way. I had to save Bakugou in order to take the first step in saving you.”

“What happened?” Deku asked sadly, looking deflated. “What made you care about Kacchan so much?” His shoulders slumped. “If it wasn’t just for me…”

“You were gone, Deku,” Uraraka told him. “For you, it was just biding time -- you knew that you’d see me again -- but you died for me and I was alone for an almost entire year.”

It hurt to speak of it, not because this time had been her weakest and lowest point, but because he couldn’t possibly understand how she felt. He’d missed her? At least he had known that he would hold her once again -- a least he saw her from a distance or in pictures. She’d had nothing but memories and the ghost of his presence in their home.

“I didn’t want to leave you alone for so long,” Deku said.

“But you did,” Uraraka cut in. “And I was alone. Tsu tried so hard to help me. Iida did what he could. They all attempted to be there for me. Even Todoroki…”

He’d had trouble opening up about his pain as much as her. It had been easiest with him sometimes, if only because she’d known that he wouldn’t push her to talk. He didn’t expect anything from her. He didn’t worry about her falling apart. He was simply there for her. She could cry in front of him and he wouldn’t try soothe her with platitudes or comforting words. Tsu, Iida, and Kirishima had been amazing sources of comfort, but sometimes they were too much. And sometimes none of them were enough and she still felt empty.

Uraraka took a breath. “But then there was Bakugou. You might not believe it, but your death devastated him and he couldn’t admit it. He felt like he’d failed you. So he did what he believed you would want. I was so alone in that darkness -- it was all I could do at times to do my job -- and he threw everything he had into bringing me back into the light.” Her eyes flickered to the television screen. This time they were showing old footage of pro heroes Ground Zero and Uravity. “He was a hero for me in the way that you were for him.”

Silence overtook them. Uraraka couldn’t be for certain if she had messed up or not. Deku had gone quiet, his eyes having fallen to the ground and his touch weak. His body was limp, as if all the fight had been sucked right out of him. She wanted to think that was a good thing, but she was too wary to feel any sort of hope.

She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Deku?”

Instead of responding to her, Deku squeezed his eyes shut. “He’s not even here and I can feel him taking you away from me. I saw the way you responded when you saw him on the screen. You…” He opened his eyes to look at her, but this time, she didn’t recognize the look in his eyes. “Are you even mine anymore?”

“I knew that I’d always love you.” A fire sparked in Uraraka. “But you left me alone for eleven months with no hope of you returning. It wasn’t like I was waiting for you to come back. I thought you were dead. Did you want me to be alone forever?”

“No, I--” His brow furrowed. “Do you miss him?” Of course she did, but she couldn’t say that. “Are you thinking about him whenever I’m near you?” He ran a hand down her arm. “When I touch you?”

“It’s not like that!” Uraraka insisted angrily.

“Then what is it?” Deku demanded. He pointed at the screen. “I should’ve killed him. Then you could’ve forgotten about him like you did me.”

Uraraka reacted without thinking. She took her hands, placed them on his chest, and shoved him as hard as she could. Taken aback by her unexpected move, Deku stumbled back away from her. “I never forgot you! I spent countless nights crying just because our bed felt empty without you! I wished so many times that I’d fallen into the ocean with you! Don’t you dare say that I forgot you when it would have been easier if I had!”

His eyes widened in shock and hers did the same once she realized what she’d done. She had put her hands on him; she’d pushed him away and yelled at him. That kind of act could send him into a tailspin. When he took a quick step towards her again, she flinched instinctively and he froze. Horror flooded his eyes and he took a few more steps away from her, his fingers twitching at his sides.

And Uraraka knew: something irreparable had been broken. The illusion that Deku had tried to build was cracking and she couldn’t piece it back together once it shattered.

What came after when he pulled himself together was someone with a sharp and angry edge that made her wary.

#ochako uraraka #izuku midoriya #katsuki bakugou #izuocha #kacchako #mha #bnha #anime #villain deku au #villain deku #villain izuku #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #shoto todoroki #bakuraka #ochadeku #the things of songs

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