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twistedtummies2 · 3 years

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Top 12 Pandora Hearts Characters

Moriarty the Patriot may be my new favorite anime and manga series, but today, I feel like talking about my OTHER favorite manga (and what COULD have been my favorite anime, if it had only gone on longer): a little franchise known as Pandora Hearts. Japan has a huge following for the works of Lewis Carroll, but Pandora Hearts has probably the most unusual manner of reinterpreting the characters. The story of PH is set in a world where human beings coexist with monstrous entities known as Chains: demon-like beings who are all directly inspired, in terms of name and design, on characters from Wonderland. With a few exceptions, the characters themselves do not have the names of characters from the books; instead, it is the Chains they make bargains with, form “Contracts” with, that tell you what character from the stories they are meant to represent. It’s a cool idea, and whether you look at this franchise as a new take on Wonderland, or just look at the characters on their own terms separate from the books, they are all fun and engaging characters who are frequently much more complex than they at first seem. Now, Pandora Hearts is a series with a lot of twists and turns, so I’m going to try and keep this as spoiler-free as possible when it comes to some of the REALLY big twists, but there’s only so much I can do. So if you haven’t read the manga, or at least watched the anime, and don’t want things spoiled, just be wary in case something pops up here you weren’t wanting to know ahead of time. Also, because this is me writing this list, I will give away which characters from the Wonderland stories these characters are analogous with in their descriptions. With that said... “The time has come,” the Walrus says, “To honor them today! So here’s a list of my favorites to lighten up your day!” (pauses) Yes, I’m aware that rhyme was terrible, just run with it. These are My Top 12 Favorite Pandora Hearts Characters!

12. Echo & Noise.

Wonderland Analogues: Tweedledee & Tweedledum.

One thing you need to know about Pandora Hearts is that...honestly, like a lot of anime/manga, in my opinion...it can be rather confusing at times. The lore of this world, partially because it takes so many twists and turns all over the place, is a little hard to follow at times. I’ll try be succinct and as major-spoiler-free as possible, as I said before. With that said, these two are a prime example of how things get twisted up. Echo and Noise are essentially a classic Jekyll-&-Hyde scenario; a pair of separate identities occupying the same body. Noise, also called “Zwei,” is the original personality: a member of the mysterious and dangerous Baskerville Clan, she is, as her name suggest, loudmouthed, crazy, and rather all over the place. Noise is in control of a Chain known as “Duldee,” and the Chain is responsible for the creation of the other personality: Echo. Echo is the exact opposite of Noise: she is quiet, constantly polite, and indeed often seems to be little more than a robot, very emotionless and unnervingly calm, even in the heat of battle. As Echo, she is the unsettlingly loyal servant of one of the series’ chief antagonists, Vincent Nightray, and their relationship is...a little creepy. Vincent frequently treats her like a beloved child or pet, but he also frequently uses her for his own selfish ends, never worrying about nearly killing her in order to get what he wants, and seeming to see her more as an object than another living being. Despite this, the most upset with him Echo ever gets is calling him “annoying” (now, THERE’S an understatement), and Noise herself is absolutely obsessed with him. Their twisted relationship with Vincent, and all the fun that’s had with these two different personalities, is a big part of what gets them a slot on the list.

11. Oscar Vessalius.

Wonderland Analogue: N/A

While most of the characters in Pandora Hearts are easily identified by their Chains, some don’t even have Chains, and thus cannot be readily identified as any character from the Carroll classics. Oscar Vessalius, whom I frequently and affectionately refer to as “Uncle Oscar,” is one of those cases. Now, to be fair, Uncle Oscar is not the most complex character in this series, but he IS one of the most endearing. Oscar is the paternal uncle of our main protagonist, Oz, and considering Oz’s father is...well...a gigantic douchebag of the highest order...Oscar really is more of a father to Oz than anybody else in the series. Oscar is unflappably encouraging and jolly, and extremely protective and caring when it comes to his family. He’s always there to support Oz and his friends, tries his best to get along with everybody, and generally speaking brightens up every single scene he has. Despite this, Oscar does have a bit of a sly and sneaky side to him, as well as a slightly lecherous leaning in some cases, which keep him from being too perfect or one-note a character. While he has no direct ties to Wonderland, some have suggested that he MIGHT be inspired by Lewis Carroll himself, and there are a few subtle things that could suggest that...but either way, he’s ultimately a purely original character, and of those ranks, he’s easily one of the best.

10. Reim Lunettes.

Wonderland Analogue: March Hare.

Reim, sometimes called “Liam,” is the best friend of Xerxes Break and one of the most notable members of Pandora: a not-so-secret organization dedicated to the study of Chains and the protection of the world. Sort of a Victorian-styled Men in Black, if you will. (pauses) The Will Smith Men in Black, I should say. ANYWAY, an interesting thing I’ve noticed with many interpretations of the March Hare in Japanese culture is they tend to make him a somewhat more serious and more easily flustered character than the Mad Hatter. Reim is no exception: he’s a panicky workaholic who is frequently the butt of other people’s jokes, and tries to treat things with a no-nonsense demeanor, taking his job extremely seriously and always worried about what’s best for his employers. In some ways, one could argue he acts more like the White Rabbit, but that character is one we’ll get to later. At any rate, while Reim is constantly obsessed with his work, and frequently frustrated by Break’s antics, as well as the shenanigans of other characters, he has a heart of gold and is always there to try and help his friends and colleagues when they most require assistance. His Chain also has a pretty impressive power that one does not expect...but I mustn’t say more, or I’ll spoil something important.

9. Sharon Rainsworth.

Wonderland Analogue: Unicorn.

Another character with close ties to Xerxes Break, Sharon is an interestingly dichotomous character. She’s one of the first people we encounter in this series, and she plays a big part in the story as it unfolds...but in the early parts of the franchise, what’s interesting is that Sharon stays largely in the background. Now, at first, it seems this is because she’s one of the head members of Pandora, and Break is technically her servant; so it makes sense the others would interact more with Break than Sharon. But as time goes on, and we learn more about Sharon, we find that’s not so much the case. Sharon and Break have a brother-and-sister relationship, with Sharon seeing Break as her surrogate big brother, and Break seeing her as his little sister. The problem with this relationship is that Break will do anything to protect Sharon, and at times that can go a bit too far, as Sharon truly wants to be of use to him and prove she’s just as powerful as he is or any other major member of the team. Indeed, her Chain, Equus the Black Unicorn, has many impressive abilities, including being able to open a gateway between Earth and the Hell-like dimension of The Abyss. A lot of this dichotomy is visible in Sharon’s personality: most of the time she’s very demure, polite, sweet, and ladylike. But the more we see of Sharon, the more we become aware of other facets to her personality. She’s shown to have a tough and domineering side to her character, and has some eccentricities of her own. Most notably, she’s absolutely INSANE when it comes to romance stories and romantic situations, and holds both the standards of ladies and gentlemen in high regard. Whether she’s a soothing presence or a downright scary one, Sharon is always an interesting character to return to.

8. Rufus Barma.

Wonderland Analogue: Dodo.

There are a few characters in the frequently twisted-up world of Pandora Hearts who have a habit of constantly keeping you guessing...but the king of mystery, without a shadow of a doubt, is the Duke Rufus Barma. His analogous Chain, Dodo, is able to conjure impressive illusions, and this illusionary skill is only the tip of the iceberg in showing how this man constantly manages to make you wonder just what is going on in his head. Barma lives by the code of “knowledge is power,” and constantly seeks to learn everything he can about...well...anything and anybody he wants. Money and prestige are secondary to him. He’s very soft-spoken and cold, even when angered, and carries himself with a sense of grace that’s rather flamboyant, but somehow not exactly loud or over-the-top in the way some of the other characters can be. His exact goals and motivations are constantly second-guessed, and you’re never really sure what makes him tick or what side he’ll take. You’re never really sure if he’s a villain or a hero. I love characters like this, in general, so it’s ultimately no surprise that Rufus Barma gets a solid spot on this list.

7. The Will of the Abyss.

Wonderland Analogue: White Rabbit.

The Will of the Abyss (sometimes called “Alyss” and sometimes called “The Intention of the Abyss”) isn’t a villain we see a whole lot of. She is the queen of the Abyss; the ruler of everything there. The Abyss, itself, is the home of the demon-like chains: ghoulish entities who feed on human beings, body and soul, and are formed from those who have fallen into the Abyss in the past. The place is described as “a broken toy box” and is a horrifying limbo realm of killer dolls and psychotic puppets. Needless to say, it’s not exactly an ideal vacation spot. The Will is a mysterious and mercurial character; she’s mostly a peripheral villain, since we see more of the Chains she controls than her, herself, and much of what we DO see of her actually comes through flashbacks...but in that overall brief amount of time, she proves to be honestly the single scariest character in the series, as well as one of the saddest. Part of this is due to her mood: the Will can shift from seemingly innocent and playful to screaming like a banshee in a split-second; she can go from crying and sobbing like a sad little girl to being as refined and elegant as a proper queen. And there really isn’t a safe place with her, in any of this, either; sometimes that playful and sweet persona is a good thing, but other times...yeah, it’s...um...REALLY not. Like many Chains, she’s violent and bloodthirsty, but unlike other Chains, there’s some humanity to her and you get the feeling that a lot of her actions are justified. She’s still very much a villain, but she’s also a victim, in a way, and as the story goes on, you feel bad for her and are truly sorry when her part in the series’ events is finished. Whether she makes you whimper with terror or makes you want to hug her and console her, the Will of the Abyss is bound to get a major reaction from you.

6. Vincent Nightray.

Wonderland Analogue: Dormouse.

One of the main antagonists of the series (though not, for the record, THE main antagonist...they actually don’t appear in this top twelve), Vincent Nightray is another character who changes throughout the series. What I find most interesting about Vincent is that he, himself, changes very little. It’s more the attitude the reader has to him, in the manga, that changes. See, if you only know Vincent from the anime, or the chapters in the manga that the anime covers, chances are you find him to be a pretty repugnant person. He’s creepy, he’s treacherous, he’s responsible for some of the most screwed-up things any character in this franchise does, and that’s saying a lot. He’s totally insane, and sort of seems to be aware of it, and seems to have an unhealthy interest in his own brother, Gilbert. In fact, with how disturbing he is, and the kinds of things he tries, you start off thinking he’s the main antagonist...and, for a while, he pretty much is. However, as the series continues in the manga, and you learn more about Vincent - why he is the way he is, and what exactly he wants to accomplish - the more you come to understand him and sympathize with him. Make no mistake, Vincent is a villain; in fact, even he seems to be aware of the fact that he’s sort of a monster. But he’s the kind of villain you come to feel sorry for and realize that, if things had been different, maybe could have turned out a much better person. In a way, Vincent is a foil to the ACTUAL main antagonist. Without giving anything away, the real main villain of the series follows the opposite path: at first he seems sympathetic and endearing, but the more we learn about him and the more horrible things he does, the more we come to loathe him and want to see him kicked in the face a thousand times over. Vincent, meanwhile, we start off hating his guts, but by the time his part in the story ends, we’re sad to see him go, because we understand him and care about him, and realize not everything was his fault. I actually feel a little bad for not placing Vincent higher, but I doubt the characters above him will drastically disappoint. He may have been one of the nastiest characters in the franchise, but if ever proof was needed that Evil is a lonely course to take, Vincent Nightray could provide it.

5. Cheshire Cat.

Wonderland Analogue: Doesn’t need to be given, because IT’S HIS NAME.

Again, the Cheshire Cat doesn’t have a lot of time in the series - he gets one major arc fairly early on, appears in several flashbacks afterwards, and then makes a sudden and unexpected return much later in the story - but that doesn’t keep him from being one of the most fascinating figures in the universe of PH. Cheshire is the reincarnation of an innocent kitten who belonged to a girl named Alice; the kitten was brutally murdered by Vincent Nightray. As a Chain, the Cheshire Cat is steadfastly loyal to the Will of the Abyss, and - at least at the start of the series - dwells within a mysterious realm simply known as “The Cheshire Cat’s House.” The “house” is an eerie Victorian mansion that is literally made up of all of the worst memories the Will has, and Cheshire guards the mansion and the Will herself with ferocious zeal. It’s ironic because this is a very different take on the Cheshire Cat, in general: the character in the book, and most other adaptations, is a chaotic being who shows loyalty to seemingly no one, and while some versions lean more towards good or evil, friend or foe, than others, he ultimately isn’t an obedient housecat. He’s more of an enigmatic agent of madness. This Cheshire Cat is a totally different spin on things. He’s got human-like intelligence, for the most part, and occasionally speaks in a cryptic or evasive manner, but he’s not the puzzling imp of Carroll’s classic. He doesn’t even SMILE all that often...and when he does it’s...well...the most terrifying thing you’ll ever see. But just because he’s a very different take on the character, doesn’t mean he’s still not a good one; Cheshire’s mixture of ravenous hunger (all Chains are so), sadistic ferocity, and childlike adoration of the Will make him a very layered character. Like the Will herself, he can be very creepy and menacing, but he can also be sympathetic and sweet, since he still very much is that loving kitten whose life was cut short. In a very short time, he becomes one of the most standout characters, and despite a relatively short lifespan (so to speak), it’s clear the creators really liked Cheshire, since they tried to find ways to fit him in all over the place. It’s a sign of restraint on their parts, I’d say, that he doesn’t pop up more often throughout the franchise. When he does pop up, he’s a scene stealer, and I was always excited to see him.

4. Oz Vessalius.

Wonderland Analogue: N/A

Our chief protagonist, and another original character, Oz Vessalius is a teenager whose life is turned upside-down when, at his Coming-of-Age Ceremony, a group of depraved cultists send him body and soul into the Abyss. He makes a contract with a Chain called Alice, and escapes the Abyss, only to discover that the very short time he spent down there equated to a full decade in the real world. He is enlisted by Pandora, and the rest of the series focuses on his adventures as he tries to discover the secrets of a cataclysmic event from the past known as “The Tragedy of Sablier” - in which an entire city was somehow sucked down into the Abyss. Oz is an endearing young hero, as his youth is mixed with a curious maturity. At times he’s very silly and almost hopelessly optimistic, but at other times he shows a very fatalistic and calculating side to his personality. Part of this is due to his upbringing, as his father never showed him any love at all, and the best friend he ever really had was his own servant, Gilbert. He didn’t exactly get out much to explore the world. So while he’s lived a very sheltered life, it’s also been a very cold one. Oz works on a philosophy of acceptance, just going with the flow and trying not to let the bad things get to you...but considering he frequently claims his own life means very little to him, it’s very clear the bad things DO get to him. In fact, despite his privileged youth, he puts the lives of others vastly before his own, even when he doesn’t know them all that well. He just doesn’t like to show how much things can hurt him, and tries to press ahead no matter what. It’s a complex sort of way of thinking - being proud and unflinching and yet humble and downright self-loathing, all with a dash of youthful exuberance - and as the series goes on, and we learn more about Oz than maybe even he knows, it only becomes more fascinating. He may not be my favorite character, but he’s a fine protagonist for us to follow, and certainly worthy of high marks here.

3. Gilbert Nightray.

Wonderland Analogue: The Monstrous Crow...probably.

I say “probably” because Gilbert’s Chain, as well as his own codename, is “Raven,” which is an obvious reference to the riddle “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I guess it’s possible both were inspirational, but the Crow is an actual creature/character in the stories, so it’s the one I choose to credit. Whatever the case, Gil is one of the other major protagonists in the series, and...this guy is freaking adorable. I know he doesn’t look it, but trust me, he’s adorable. At the start of the series, we meet Gil as a small boy, who has amnesia about his past and works as a servant for Oz. Oz is not only his Master, but his best friend, and Gil will do absolutely anything to protect and serve his “Young Master” no matter what. After Oz descends into the Abyss, Gil - blaming himself - tries to run away...and is enlisted, at a very young age, by Xerxes Break. He becomes a double-agent, working for both the Rainsworth and Nightray households, upon discovering he is actually a long-lost member of the Nightray family. When Oz returns years later, Gil is a seemingly changed man: stoic, stern, always dressed in black, smoking heavily, and rarely speaking. Very quickly, however, we discover a lot of this stoicism is a facade: underneath it all, Gil is very much still a child at heart, and even though he’s grown older, he still sees Oz as his brother and best friend, as well as his true master, and will do anything to protect and to help him. Just as Oz always puts his life ahead of others, Gil’s foremost thoughts are always with Oz and how he can help him, and the lengths he’ll go to in order to keep Oz safe are sometimes touching, sometimes hilarious, and sometimes downright heartbreaking. Gil’s “dark side” is certainly engaging - he’s a crack shot with a pistol, and has a gloomy and cynical sense of humor - but I think what’s most endearing about him are the moments...and there are surprisingly many...where we see the cracks in the armor, and this “seaweed head” shows that he really hasn’t changed as much as he often claims. Whether he’s a man of action or a man of hilarious hijinks, Gilbert Nightray is more than worthy of a place in the top three.

2. Alice.

Wonderland Analogue: Again, IT’S HER NAME.

The secondary protagonist of the series, after Oz, this Alice is a far cry from the little girl we know of from the Carroll stories. At the start of the franchise, we are introduced to Alice as a Chain known as “B. Rabbit” - a title that stands for both “Black Rabbit” and “Bloody” or “Bloodstained Rabbit.” (In fact, her full title is often given as “The Bloody/Bloodstained Black Rabbit.”) B. Rabbit is one of the most powerful Chains out there, and in her Chain form, Alice is a nigh-unstoppable powerhouse ruled by bloodthirst - a maniacal berserker whose morning star chains and massive scythe cleave through even the toughest opponents with ease. However, Alice can also resort to human form, and here she’s much more...well...human. She has the same basic weaknesses a human has, she’s not quite as psychotic (though she DOES have a nasty temper at times)...really, the only sign of her being a Chain is her ravenous hunger. Like any Chain, Alice is ALWAYS hungry, and always hungry for MEAT. Thankfully, unlike other Chains, Alice has no desire to consume human beings. Indeed, while at first she comes across as frightening and intimidating, Alice has a very vulnerable side to her; she’s lived her life without any real friends or family, since the only “family” she has is her twin, the Will of the Abyss...and, to put things simply, they don’t get along very well. Much like Oz, she often feels like she’s undeserving of other people’s care and attention, but while Oz compensates this through being charitable and caring, Alice compensates by over-inflating herself; a classic “superiority complex via inferiority complex” issue. She’s never unlikeable, however, and as the series goes on - and we come to realize that Alice’s true identity, and her status as a Chain, is a lot less cut-and-dry than we might think - she only becomes a more and more fun and fascinating character...arguably more fascinating than Oz. Indeed, it’s really Alice who drives so much of the plot of the series forward, as her whole goal in the series is to find out the truth of her past and regain her lost memories, and it’s through the team’s efforts to help Alice in this goal that so much of the story is told. Oz is really just along for the ride, at least at first. Powerful but not invincible, and easily one of my favorite takes on the title character of the Carroll stories, Alice nabs second place easily…

...But who in the great wide world could take first? That honor goes to...

1. Xerxes Break.

Wonderland Analogue: The Mad Hatter AND The White Knight.

Yep. Two characters. How is this possible? Well, the first thing to know about Xerxes Break is that he wasn’t always called “Xerxes Break.” Once upon a time, he was a knight called Kevin Regnard, who served a noble family; his Chain was called Albus the White Knight. When Regnard’s mistakes led to the destruction of the entire family, he went absolutely bonkers and became a twisted serial killer known as the Red-Eyed Ghost. Ultimately, however, his contract with Albus ended, and Regnard was dragged down into the Abyss, where the Will and the Cheshire Cat ripped out one of his eyes (...yikes…), and plotted to turn him into another Chain. Things get a bit complicated at this point, but basically, Kevin managed to escape and was thrown into another time and place upon doing so. He was taken in by the Rainsworth family, befriend Reim Lunettes, and steadily began to come out of his shell. He took the name “Xerxes Break,” because he felt “broken,” later formed a contract with a very special and powerful Chain known as The Mad Hatter (in fact, one of Break’s nicknames is “Mr. Hatter”), and crafted a whole new personality for himself: Kevin Regnard was stern, work-obsessed, and wore his heart on his sleeve. Xerxes Break is in every way his opposite. When it comes to takes on the Mad Hatter, Break is one of the best; granted, we very rarely see him WEAR a hat, but the personality of the guy speaks for itself. Break often comes across as clownish and childishly hyperactive, constantly eating sweets, performing magic tricks and weird stunts just for the sheer sake of it, prancing around and giggling like a small boy, and even interacting with a puppet he calls “Emily”...which...may or may not actually be alive. However, much of this is a facade, as underneath it all, Break is...well...broken. Not just in body (he’s much, much older and more frail than he often seems), but in terms of his mind; he’s half-crazed and extremely mercurial. Much like with Rufus Barma, Break is somebody you’re never entirely sure of, but in a different way. Break, you see, is very open and honest; he never tells lies and he makes his loyalties and disloyalties very clear. But at the same time he’s very secretive and enigmatic, often speaking in riddles and partial-truths to throw people off. He’s very cunning and intelligent, and a gifted swordsman, and will do anything and use almost anyone to get what he wants. So while he can be extremely funny, he can also be very frightening and ruthless. You’re never sure what’s going to set him off and if the next line he says is going to be a threat or a joke. And as the series goes on, and we see more and more of Break’s vulnerabilities, we only come to care about him more and more, though, at the same time, he always remains an eternal mystery. A riddle with no real answer...just like the Mad Hatter’s from the book. (Way to bring things around, don’t you think?) Whether you look at him as a version of the Hatter, or look at him just for who and what he is on his own terms, he is, in my opinion, the most well-rounded and fascinating character in the whole series, and easily takes the top spot as My Favorite Pandora Hearts Character. Xerxes Break, I doff my own topper to thee. (tips hat)

Honorable Mentions Include...

Elliot Nightray.

Leo.

Jack Vessalius.

Lottie Baskerville.

Lily Baskerville.

Ada Vessalius.

Phillipe West.

#pandora hearts #top 12 #top 12 pandora hearts characters #characters #best #favorites #list #countdown #alice in wonderland #wonderland #alice

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therewithall · 3 years

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Roswell, New Mexico custom Magic: The Gathering cards

For RNM D&D Weekend Warriors, I branched out to another tabletop format and made a handful of custom Magic: The Gathering cards based on the core cast of Roswell, NM. Here’s the break-down of how I chose each character’s color(s) and abilities as well as highlight some of the neat ways they interact. None of the cards have been playtested so there is still room for them to be further developed and balanced. For anyone who isn’t very familiar with Magic: The Gathering, every card fits into various types that can be played for the cost printed in the top right-hand corner. There are 5 colors of Mana- White, Blue, Black, Red, Green- I’ll be using the letters W, U (blue), B (black), R, and G to represent the mana colors in my discussion. Each card can also have different traits and abilities, and a set of numbers that represents how strong its attack and defense are (represented as attack/defense). There’s a lot of amazingly nerdy discussion of Magic Lore that delves into how the Mana colors relate to personality traits and behaviors of the characters on the cards-- more on that here- but just know that I’ll be discussing some of those qualities as I go into why I chose the attributes for each card/character.So here we go!

Max Evans, Smalltown Hero 2WR Legendary Creature – Human Alien Vigilance, Haste (This creature doesn’t tap to attack and may attack or use tap abilities the turn it enters the battlefield.) T, Sacrifice a nonland permanent: Another target creature gains indestructible until end of turn. Max is a deputy with the sheriff’s department and a natural leader who has kept his powers and identity a secret for years. 3/1

Max is kind hearted and wants to protect his community and friends. On the other hand, he’s impulsive and will make rash decisions without thinking about the consequences of his actions. These two beliefs place him firmly in red/white for Magic colors; a combination that often plays small aggressive creatures and engages in frequent combat. I gave Max vigilance to represent him being a defender as well as an aggressor in a lot of circumstances. His ability to sacrifice something to protect someone else exemplifies his ability to both heal and destroy. Lastly he has haste and a fragile body (1 toughness) making a game with Max play out with an early attack followed by him protecting someone else and only getting in when the coast is clear.

Michael Guerin, Tech Genius 1WU Legendary Creature – Human Alien Artificer When Michael Guerin, Tech Genius enters the battlefield, search your library and/or graveyard for a noncreature artifact or enchantment card and exile it with a research counter on it. If you searched your library this way, shuffle. X, T: Create a token that’s a copy of a card exiled with a research counter. X is that card’s mana value. 2/3

Michael cares about the team differently than Max does. He is often tinkering with things in order to heal or protect others if possible and is a genius when it comes to inventions involving alien technology. His intelligence and need for knowing more fits in blue (alongside a few other science oriented characters). Whereas Max is a straightforward attacker, I chose an ability that is much more complex to understand for Michael. He makes copies of trinkets after taking the time to examine them which lends itself to more combo and control oriented play patterns instead of just blindly turning stuff sideways. I didn’t capture Michael’s temper, but I didn’t want all aliens to be red. Maybe I’ll make another version some time that incorporates different facets of their personalities.

Isobel Evans, Influencer UBR Legendary Creature – Human Alien Your opponents play with the top card of their library revealed. 3R, T: Gain control of target creature an opponent controls until end of turn. Untap that creature. It gains haste until end of turn. 6BB, T: You control target player’s next turn. Activate only once. 1/4

Isobel has fewer words than Michael, but oh my is she complex as well. If Max leans toward aggro and Michael is combo, Isobel is the control card of the siblings. Isobel is often guided by her emotions, but channels that into careful thought in how to execute a plan and always looks out for herself and her people. Her abilities represent her powers spread across the three colors: Blue – Reading your opponent’s mind, Red – Controlling someone’s impulses for a short period, Black – Forcing your opponent’s actions, once.

Liz Ortecho, Savvy Scientist 1UB Legendary Creature – Human Rebel Liz Ortecho, Savvy Scientist can’t be blocked as long as defending player controls an artifact. Whenever Liz Ortecho deals combat damage to a player, gain control of target artifact that player controls with mana value less than or equal to the damage dealt. 2/1

Liz is smart, cunning, and will protect her own. Her science background lends itself to Blue, but this card plays up some of her devious nature of stealing hospital equipment, doing illegal research, and general sneaking around, so there’s Black in her mana cost as well. She often draws on the abilities of those around her, which means that her connections make her stronger. Amusingly, she’s unblockable against some of our other characters including her own dad!

Alex Manes, Tech Specialist 1WUB Whenever you draw a card, target creature you control gains deathtouch (Any amount of damage it deals to a creature is enough to destroy it.), lifelink (Damage dealt by that creature also causes you to gain that much life.), or vigilance (Attacking doesn’t cause it to tap.) until end of turn. Whenever Alex Manes, Tech Specialist deals combat damage to a player, create a clue token. (It’s an artifact with “2, Sacrifice this artifact: Draw a card.”) Kyle: “What’s the worst thing we could find?“ Alex: “Literal skeletons.” 2/3

Alex also sneaks around, but I wanted to play up his investigation skills a little more. Instead of just drawing a card when he does damage, he makes a clue “token”. That clue token represents information (drawing a card) that can be held onto or acted on later. He’s a character who’s able to do plenty of damage in his own right, but his big advantage is being able to help other characters do their jobs and get combat abilities they wouldn’t otherwise have. He protects his friends.

Maria DeLuca, Entrepreneur 2RG Legendary Creature – Human Alien Haste (This creature may attack and use tap abilities the turn it enters the battlefield.) Each other creature you control enters the battlefield with an additional +1/+1 counter on it. “Maria DeLuca is her own savior.” 3/2

Maria cares about her friends and her business. Her ability helps everyone and represents your other creatures being able to stop in for a drink at the bar. She gets haste to show how hard she works and has aggressive stats so she can get her hands dirty in a fight. Like Michael, I could see another version playing into her psychic powers.

Dr. Kyle Valenti 1WW Legendary Creature – Human Lifelink (Damage dealt by that creature also causes you to gain that much life.) When Dr. Kyle Valenti enters the battlefield, put a +1/+1 counter on each other creature you control. "In a hospital it doesn't matter what someone did before they came through the doors." 2/2

Kyle is a healer and instead of showing that with damage prevention, I chose a simpler buff to the whole team. Now you’re less worried about losing fights!

Rosa Ortecho, Troubled Artist 1BR Legendary Creature – Human Alien At the beginning of your upkeep, choose one — • Draw a card and lose 2 life. • Exile the top card of your library. Until end of turn, you may play that card. Red is armor. 3/2

Rosa was a fun one to design. She is black red which is a color combo notoriously bad at impulse control. She has aggressive stats and an ability that makes the controller make a hard choice every turn. Do I take the guaranteed draw at the cost of a couple life or do I risk not being able to cast whatever I exile? Among other things, this represents her struggle with addiction-- taking the most directly expedient option comes with some harm to her life totals- but it’s the damage you know. The second option requires you to risk the unknown, but be able to participate in the fight without automatically being harmed-- it requires you to trust your deck and your support network...but be prepared for potential setbacks.

Arturo Ortecho GG Legendary Creature – Human Defender (This creature can’t attack.) Whenever a nontoken creature enters the battlefield under your control, create a Food token. (It’s an artifact with “{2}, {T}, Sacrifice this artifact: You gain 3 life.”) G, T, Sacrifice a Food: Target creature gets +2/+2 until end of turn. “I already have my miracle.” 2/4

Arturo cares about his community as do many of our characters, but if there’s any color that cares about bringing everyone in for dinner, it’s green. He delivers food whenever a new creature enters and can use them as buffs instead of just life gain! His kindness and compassion sustain everyone.

Deputy Jenna Cameron 1RR Legendary Creature – Human First Strike (This creature deals combat damage before creatures without first strike.) Whenever Jenna blocks or becomes blocked by a creature, she deals 1 damage to that creature. “Who you callin’ a girl?” 2/3

In case you can’t tell, a lot of our characters act on impulse and emotion, which is a Red trait. Cam is tough (A 3/4 is needed to best her in combat!) and efficiently deals with enemies. The faster-than-first strike damage represents her sharp shooting skill. And because of her skills, anyone going up against her is going to feel it right away.

Sergeant Jesse Manes 2BB Legendary Creature – Human Soldier Menace (This creature must be blocked by two or more creatures.) When Sergeant Jesse Manes enters the battlefield or attacks, exile the top card of each opponent’s library face down. You may cast noncreature cards exiled this way and you may spend mana as though it were mana of any type to cast that spell. Jesse's inhumane methods leave only pain in his wake. 3/2

Jesse is a character who has his own twisted view of how his actions will better society. His card here plays up how he tends to believe the ends justify any means-- for him, at least. He steals information and uses it against those he took it from, to represent his involvement in Project Shepherd and the threat he represents not just to the safety and security of the aliens, but to anyone helping them. I chose to exclude creatures in order to make the ability a little more efficient and make it feel more like controlling the chess board and less like mind control (Which a Noah card would someday probably do).

Whew! I hope you enjoyed reading these as much as I enjoyed making them!

#rnmweekendwarriors2021 #magic the gathering #roswell new mexico

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gallickingun · 4 years

Text

welded hearts || b.k.

SUMMARY: You and Bakugou have to try and pick up the pieces after the incident with Awase, but neither of you are doing a very good job. It leads to distance and lies, and you’re not sure if there’s any way to save the fragments that remain of your shattered relationship. Especially when you find out that Bakugou has been tracking your every move.

Follows the events of Ensnare, an Awase x Reader x Bakugou fic written by @lady-bakuhoe.

PAIRING: Pro Hero!Bakugou x Fem!Reader RATINGS: M/E+ WARNINGS: language, smut, slight violence, etc. WORD COUNT: 11.7k+

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | mobile | writing tag

AUTHOR’S NOTE: after reading Jo’s fic, I immediately rushed to her inbox to foam at the mouth about what kind of angst would follow when Bakugou and Reader attempt to put back together what is left of their relationship, with Bakugou really not feeling like a man, and reader feeling absolutely suffocated, and this little fic was born. Also, this is my first time not tagging any blogs, I just need to start fresh. I hope everyone understands!

if you like this, feel free to request more HERE!

　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　

The strange combination of distance and suffocation make your head spin.

Nightmares plague your mind at night, leaving the opportunity for visions to run rampant through your sleep-deprived brain during the day. You spend the daylight hours looking over your shoulder, your forehead broken out into a constant sweat, and you spend the evenings wondering if you might have imagined the whole thing.

You wake up alone most of the time, no matter what phase of the night you are suffering through. The first few times you would go searching the house for him, wondering where his overactive body could have taken him this time. Most nights you found him at the kitchen table going over suit designs and contracts for more hero patrols and brand deals.

You’d ask him when he was coming back to bed only for those familiar vermilion eyes to pass you a blank stare and his dry voice to echo out, “Don’t worry about me. Go back to bed.”

And each night you’d listen.

You curl up beneath the covers, tugging the fabric to your chin, and stare at the wall. You attempt breathing exercises and grounding techniques, but that does not stop the shadowy figures you see in the hallway or the closet. Your imagination gets the better of you as it hallucinates the image of the culprit himself stood in your bathroom doorway, a smirk on his lips and a glint in his eyes.

“So fucking pretty,” his mouth snarls around the words, dark hair shining despite the dark. His teeth are pearlescent even in the dim moonlight filtering through your window, “Whose going to stop me? You?”

A shudder shakes your shoulders and when you blink, he’s gone, like a phantom escaped in the night. You rip your hands through your hair and tears drip down from your lids into your lap, staining the fabric of your pajama pants. Your hands shake in front of you, fingertips showing double the harder you try to concentrate.

His presence is akin to smoke billowing within your belly. The tendrils of his black cloud wrap around your spine, traveling up your torso until it sits in the base of your throat, suffocating you endlessly. Every day you spend breathing is another day fighting for relief from this monstrous thing in your chest.

Bakugou turns to much different means of coping.

At first it was sweet – him checking in on you. He would offer to come pick you up from work if you’d ever decided to leave anytime after seven, and if he was stuck on patrol or in meetings, he’d arrange a car to bring you home. When you go on your afternoon runs, he’d volunteer to go with you even though he’d done rigorous amounts of training at work.

The simplest ways he would show his sense of pride in protecting you would be to hover closely, his body within an arm’s length so he could snag you out of any bad situation if there ever were one. Still, even with his insatiable hovering tendencies, he would keep his own personal touch at bay.

At times when he would usually hold your hand or brush up against you, he stays at least three feet away. It’s as if he’s chosen to self-quarantine himself from you, deeming your affections as either insufficient or insufferable, which neither are good options to choose from.

Once it becomes overwhelming, you find yourself in too deep, too bitter. You try to reach out to him in the form of affection – brushing your palm over his hips as you pass him in the kitchen, trying to grab his hand when you’re walking together, and reaching out to touch his shoulders when he faces away from you the few nights he does end up in bed.

To shout out now would be hypocritical, as you have had a part in pushing him further from you, isolating his affectionate touches even further. Yet, the longer he keeps himself from brushing even his clothed thigh against you when he passes you by in the kitchen or at the grocery store, you wonder who is actually suffering from the lack of physical affection and who is merely existing.

Eventually he grows more suffocating.

Bakugou will not let you be out of his sight for longer than a few minutes at a time despite sitting opposite from you on every surface he can find. You have started to hide in the bathroom, proclaiming cramps or bad pork before skittering off to the bathroom with your phone clutched in the grasp of your fingers, if only to find some peace from his prying eyes for a few moments at a time.

He has never been so clingy before, and you know that it is laced with the trauma as a result of the Awase situation. However, this doesn’t make it any easier to stomach his lurking. On the other hand, it adds a stinging sensation at the irony of it all.

Bakugou wants to be completely involved in every facet of your life without even kissing you good morning when he hands you your coffee.

You knew that what had happened with Awase all those weeks ago had to have affected him, coloring his outlook on life no matter how bleak it had been before. With each passing day he grows closer to you, hands metaphorically wrapped around your throat, squeezing every last pound of air from your tongue. But still, you never imagined that he would take t his far.

And so, you lie through your teeth.

Yaoyorozu was invited to the grand opening of a bar in the plaza sector of the city, and she invites you and the other girls for a night out. You know that if Bakugou heard about you going on about visiting a bar and intending to drink, he’d say some new form of the word ‘no’ and persuade you with his big, round, crimson eyes to stay home.

There were too many safety hazards, after all. Especially if you are going to be drinking. Your senses would be impaired, and you would be much easier to take advantage of once you are two shows into the wind. And then Bakugou would casually remind you that Momo normally finds a guy and ditches you, thus forcing you into taking a cab ride home, which creates an entirely new set of problems.

Which is why, when you tell him why you won’t be home tonight, you lie, “It’s just a sleepover, like back in high school! Momo and Ochako wanted to get back together and I think Mina might even be coming too!”

Bakugou nods, looking over the top of his combat training manual, “Just let me know if you need me to come pick you up, alright?”

You nod, not daring to reach forward and try to brush your hand against his forearm, afraid he might recoil or redirect you. Instead you force a smile, nodding your head as you open the door, “Momo is picking me up, and she said she’d be fine with driving me back tomorrow, but I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

His posture visibly relaxes at the sentiment. It is maddening how one simple shift of his composure makes you want to barrel into him, to forget your entire night and attempt to curl up with him on the couch. It has been so long since you last felt his touch, even in a casual sense. The bar counter top acts like a prison, barring him from you as he isolates himself.

“Have fun,” he manages, eyes falling away from you.

And you’re glad, too. At least when he’s not looking at you, he can’t read your face for lies. Bakugou is like a human lie detector, able to sense any unease in your usually relaxed posture.

Of course he has no reason to disbelieve you – why would you lie to him in the first place? You have preyed on that trust, a thing you feel so despicable for even considering, the fib scraping against your teeth like nails on a chalkboard. You wince at his tone, unbelievably naïve, but the door stays open regardless of your conviction.

The lie rolls around in your belly like a parasite, preying on the poor decisions and leeching on your inhibitions. You feel it suffocating your throat as you blow a kiss his direction, telling him not to wait up as you readjust your backpack full of overnight accessories and a change of clothes that is slung over your right shoulder.

Bakugou smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, which only further feeds the parasitic being taken up a home in your stomach. It sits heavy on your tongue when you tell him goodnight, threatening to chew right through your cheek until it’s been bared to the whole world.

He nods, licking his lips as he watches you leave. You wave one last time as you shut the door, guilt eating you alive until you feel tears press against the backs of your eyelids. You swallow your conscience and head towards the car you recognize as Momo’s, the weight of your club clothes sitting heavy in your backpack. You cinch it closer to you, praying that Bakugou hasn’t somehow developed x-ray vision to be able to see through your bag.

And yet, a part of you wants him to come barreling down the stairwell to beg you to come back inside, back home. You want him to whisper your name like a prayer, his hands outstretched so you can reach forward to slot your knuckles between his.

At least in your hallucinations he still wants you.

Once you’re at the club bar, it doesn’t take long for you to find yourself in a drunken stupor.

“Listen,” you slur, pointing a finger into Momo’s ample chest, “I-I’m not sayin’ he’s gotta dick me down every night, b-but like-once?!”

You take a long drag of beer, swallowing the acidic liquid until it’s burning your throat. You slam your cup back down on the table top, pursing your lips as you take in a deep breath, “I mean it’s been months, guys. Months.”

“A-Are you serious?” Uraraka leans in closer to you, eyes widened, “N-Not since-”

“Nope,” you huff, slumping down in the booth seat. “I-I know that since the incident that things have been different, but it’s like he doesn’t even want me anymore.”

Momo reaches her arm around your shoulder, tucking you into her side, “I’m sure he just doesn’t know how to handle all of it, and he’s just trying to do his best.”

“Bakugou?” Mina laughs, bright eyes hidden behind her lids as she screws her face up into a giggle. She takes a sip of her beer, propping her feet on the nearest unoccupied table, and sighs, “Good luck with that one, babes. I don’t see things returning back to normal anytime soon, not with how damn stubborn he can be.”

The beginning of a fresh set of tears presses like a crater into the backs of your eyes, a pulsing headache drawing out a groan from your lips. You drop your forehead to the tabletop and relish at the cool surface opposing your heated flesh, “I-I know that normal isn’t exactly an option yet, but I would like to feel like I wasn’t so fucking alone in my own house, y’know? I mean, he’s right there and yet it’s like I’m there all by myself?”

Your phone buzzes from within your purse and there is a collective grouching that echoes from everyone at the table, sour expressions making it obvious the way they feel about your ringtone. Momo crosses her arms over her chest, “You do realize this is the seventeenth time he’s called you, right?”

You reach into your purse but her hand is on your wrist before you can snatch your phone. She shakes her head and Mina huffs through her nose, “Why can’t you just put that thing on silent? When is he going to stop bugging you?”

“Yeah?” Momo brushes her thumb against your forearm, “Didn’t you tell him you were coming out with us tonight?”

A bright red tinge sits hot on your cheeks, making your skin look flushed. Your friends understand your conflict then, sitting back from you in shame. Mina is the first to speak, “You lied?”

“I-well, I couldn’t just-” You rack your brain for the right words to say to defend yourself, sweat accumulating at the base of your back in droves. You want to run away, but there’s nowhere to go. If you head home now, Bakugou will most likely have a full rant ready for you as soon as you walk in the door.

“You can’t keep lying to him like this,” Momo presses her palm to your cheek, brushing away a tear before it can slip down your face, “You’re going to have to be honest with him eventually. He needs to back off, to let you live. There’s no reason he has to be attached to you like an umbilical cord all of the time.”

“His concern is kind of nice, though,” Jirou speaks up.

Your head snaps towards her and she shrugs, “All I’m saying is at least he’s trying to protect you. He’s not completely self-absorbed after all.”

Before you can try to refute her or defend him, your phone starts ringing once more. Your hand dives into your purse, pulling it from within and looking down at it like that might keep it from ringing any longer.

“I don’t understand!” You’re whining now, fresh saltine droplets settling in your lashes. You wipe at your face, “I-I don’t get why he won’t just leave me the hell alone. I told him exactly what I was doing tonight, exactly where I was going and who I was going to be with. I just-”

“Except you lied.”

You feel all of the heat leave your body, only frozen fingertips and an icy, rigid spine left behind.

You turn your head at the familiar baritone voice that cuts into you from behind, and your heart drops into your stomach. When you breathe, the parasitic thing living there begins to swallow your stomach whole, gnawing away at your most sensitive parts first.

You grit your teeth, forcing yourself to feel anger instead of shame, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“What, pray tell, the fuck are you doing here?!” Bakugou snaps, eyes a conflagration of brassy tones, pupils dilated to prove his anger, as if it weren’t so evident from his tone.

Mina goes to speak up when she sees you flinch, but you’re already being dragged out from the safety of the booth seat. Bakugou’s blunt nails are digging into your bicep and forearm like little spears, snagging you so you can’t get away. He yanks you into the hallway, your back pressed into the wall as he further infringes on your space with his closeness.

“You fuckin’ lied to me?”

His voice is held together by rage, begging to be broken apart as he lets the feelings seep through the cracks of his resolve. Bakugou’s jaw quivers as he grinds his teeth together, heaving breaths making his chest expand to brush against your own. It’s the closest thing you’ve felt to intimacy since that night in the alley – since he decided to pretend that you and your needs didn’t exist.

You want to start bubbling out another fib, foaming at the mouth with lies so smooth he’d have to believe them. Your brain is stumbling in attempt to keep up with his fast paced thinking. Every phrase you could possibly say to make this go down like honey instead of vinegar passes through your mind, but you know that this will sting no matter how long you put off trying to swallow it.

The intentions you have now, to make everything easier on him and spare his emotions, have been tainted by your conniving words from before. You weren’t preparing for a confessional in the middle of this hole-in-the-wall bar, but not every night goes exactly how you plan it.

The both of you understand that sentiment rather intimately.

Bakugou’s eyes are ablaze, vermilion bleeding to amber nearest his pupils. His jawline is flexed, nostrils flaring, and you know that laced within his anger is something akin to fright, fearfulness. Every single feature he possesses is pinched tightly, as if his body were wound like a coil, and he is going to snap at any moment.

And then, when your mouth bobs open and shut, and you can’t find the right lie to squeeze between your teeth, you begin putting the whole situational puzzle back together. Anger replaces the acrid taste in your mouth, cinders of fury settling on your tongue the more it all starts to make sense.

Your eyes meet his and he feels the shift, his grip on your arm lessening at the sight of your furious irises honing in on him. The reality that he is not as innocent as you would like to believe seeps into your skin, settling like sticky acid, and you itch religiously to get it off of you.

“How did you know that I was here?” you ask, voice eerily calm as your vision begins to blur at the edges. You gnaw on your lower lip, tilting your head to consider every falter in his expression, “I told you I was going to be at Yaoyorozu’s. You had no idea that-”

You can’t help the choking sound that comes from your throat next, gagging on your words as pure fury overwhelms your body. Your shoulders shudder under the strain of these destructive emotions as realization settles in. Even the fear in his own irises cannot stop the tumultuous build of vehemence that seeps through you like molten lava, crawling upwards through your veins until all you can see is red – blinding red.

You’re repeating your question when it appears he won’t answer you to speak the truth; eyebrows furrowed, forehead wrinkled. Your jawline pulsates with muscle tremors as you grit your teeth down fervently, a high-pitched whining sound echoing within your own skull at the action, “What did you do, Katsuki?”

It’s not a question, though, not this time.

Bakugou’s throat bobs and before he can give you some shitty, half-thought out excuse, you’re poking your finger into his chest, directly between the taut line of his pectorals, “Where is it?”

“Wh-What?” he manages to cough out, tongue bitten between his teeth.

You take a step back with each question of the location, chin wobbling in denial, “My bag? My phone? My car? Did you put it in me, Katsuki?”

The sound of his given name dripping like toxic acid from your tongue makes his heart constrict within the confines of his chest. The organ beats at a thunderous pace, so hard that he’s sure there is an outlined bruise in the shape of it if you were to peel his shirt back and look. Still, he knows better than to argue with you – knows even better than to try and deny it. You are a human lie detector when it comes to him. You know his mannerisms so well that you’re able to spot a stuttering breath from a mile off, even the smallest of hints to his dastardly secret-keeping seeming like bright white lights to you.

He has backed himself into a corner in trying to keep you safe, so he admits with his head hung low, “Your phone.”

A shuddering breath makes your chest collapse, jaw fallen slack at the confession. Your spirit was praying that he might have just found out from a friend, maybe Kirishima discovered that you were out with Momo and Mina and told him. But no, now he’s admitted to the crime and he knows that he’ll have to face the punishment.

You want to root around in your purse until you’ve found the offending object, but it’s not the time, at least not right now. He can’t take advantage of using it while you’re both still in the same location. You’ll have to handle it later.

“How long?” you ask, voice small.

Bakugou does not answer immediately. His eyes are downcast, unable to meet yours as his lower lip quivers just enough for you to make it out in the dim light of the bar. Your heart thrums at the sight of him so distraught, but you lock your knees and force your body to straighten your spine and steel your resolve.

You repeat the question, digging your fingertip into his skin until you are sure that you’ve drawn blood underneath the fabric of his black tank top.

He snaps, the blood vessels in his neck thudding against the tanned skin there, “Since Awase, when the fuck else do you think?”

And just like that, your entire body is thrown back in time. You are that helpless woman in that alleyway, your body used for the lustful gratification of someone else, thrown to the side like a plaything when he was through. You feel hands, lips, skin, all over you, torturing your body even now when you are awake. The ghost of his crooked touch makes your eyes water, thick droplets sticking to your lashes.

The sound of that villain’s name makes your ears burn and your tongue turn to sandpaper. A chill runs down your spine despite the massive blanket of heat in the room from all the bodies burning with alcohol and movement. Your head feels fuzzy, eyes unable to focus as you attempt to come back to this version of reality.

A single tear drips down your cheek, but Bakugou knows better than to try and wipe it away like he might if it were any other time.

“I-I can’t believe this,” you murmur, withdrawing your finger from him to cover your mouth with both hands. You blink slowly, turning your gaze from him to the floor, taking it all in with stride, attempting to breathe as evenly as possible while still processing everything unfolding in front of you.

Bakugou reaches up to touch your elbow, just enough contact to try and bring you back down to earth. Your eyes snap upward, meeting his vermilion gaze with an expression opposing your fiery wit from earlier. He’s never seen your body waver in such a way that would leave him to believe you to be weak, but now all he wants is to hold you between his arms, piecing you back together bone-by-bone, vessel-by-vessel.

You’re lost in the simplistic touch of him, the first you’ve felt in what you know to be weeks, but believe to be eons. He has been so distant from you that you almost forget why you are angry when he’s this close to you, suffocating your body in the best of ways. You can smell the telltale sign of his quirk, an ashen sweetness that you are sure you’ve become addicted to throughout the entirety of your relationship.

A breath bites through your lungs and you sharply cut your teeth into the inside of your cheek, trying to snap yourself out of your dazed stupor brought on by isolation. As you open your eyes again, you steel yourself, stepping up with brazen confidence to slap away his hand from your arm.

The burning flames licking at your throat turn to white-hot rage, “I don’t know what the hell your problem is, Katsuki, but this controlling me shit has got to stop.”

His eyes refocus on yours again, pupils swallowing those pretty red globes whole, fear riddling every bone in his fragile body, “Wh-What are you talking about?”

Now it is you who has backed him into a corner, his backside and shoulder pushing against the wall. He tries to reach out to stop you, to beg for your forgiveness, but the stony expression in your irises tells him that he needs to be still an listen no matter how many biting insults and wanton words sit on his tongue.

“You’re breathing down my neck, Bakugou,” you inhale a shuddering breath at the sound of his surname being forced through your teeth. Tears lick at the corner of your eyes, your fists shaking by your sides, “I can’t take a shit without you wondering why I’m gone for longer than three minutes. You’ve been so fucking controlling that I can’t even go out with my friends without you needing to make it a momentous occasion!”

“You lied to me, for fucks sake!” Bakugou presses into you, snarling around his words. “You expect me to just forget that? What else have you been lying about?”

Your teeth clatter against one another, rattling around in your head, “I had to! You’ve been this glass case of emotion lately! And you won’t even let me walk home alone! I feel like I have a damn shadow everywhere I go!”

“I’m trying to-”

A thought hits you then, mulling you over so powerfully that you stumble backward, putting distance between the two of you. Your gaze falters from him to the wall, unable to look him in the eyes as you utter the next few syllables, “You don’t trust me?”

Bakugou is quick to refute you, stepping forward to take you out of your haze, “Hell no, baby! Of course, I trust you.”

“You put a goddamn tracker on my phone!” you snap, muscles quivering beneath your skin as your entire body tenses at the statement. Tears settle in your lids, dripping down over your cheek when you force him off of you. “What the hell am I supposed to think?”

He reaches out and wraps you up in his arms forcefully, despite your thrashing and shoving. You tear into him with your words and your touch, trying to punch him even though your range of motion is rather limited. Bakugou puts his chin on the top of your head, bottling you up like liquid rage, holding you together as you try to fall apart.

Bakugou has one hand against the back of your head, hands tucked into the tresses of your hair to cradle your head into the curve of his neck. His other palm rubs up and down the length of your arm as he tries to calm you down from your frenzied state, the loud music and pulsing bodies in the background of the bar doing little to deter your heightened temper.

You gulp as you feel his mouth bury into the crown of your head, kisses sprinkled into your hair like little flowers, petals of kind words tucked against your scalp. Bakugou wants to take you by the hand and drag you home, to curl up with you for the first time since that horrible night in the alleyway, and whisper promises into your skin until he goes hoarse.

You tilt your head upward, face shining bright with tears, nose bumping into his chin, “The-Then why do you-”

Katsuki nudges his nose over yours, a shuddering breath making his lip tremble against the bow of your mouth. A snarling growl rips his throat wide open as every feral, primal instinct buried deep within him is unleashed, “Are you really that dense, dumbass?”

The insult takes you by surprise, facial expression souring as you roll your tongue against your teeth, attempting to swallow the acidic retort sitting on the tip of the muscle in your mouth. Bakugou watches you with a careful eye, making sure that you aren’t going to speak up before he tries to rephrase himself.

“Listen, I just-I…” The words are caught in his throat, raking into his esophagus like shards of glass. Bakugou hates being vulnerable, especially with you. It makes him feel raw, torn open, and uncomfortable. He wants to be the pillar of strength you believe him to be, and how can he prove that he’s worthy of your trust when he feels so weak?

And yet, with you standing in front of him with expectant eyes and shaking hands, he finds it within himself to say what has been plaguing his mind for weeks.

“This shitstorm happened to me too, y’know?”

He sounds so heartbreakingly honest that it makes your skin prickle. A chill tightens like a coil around your spine, spreading shards of ice throughout your veins until your whole body is burning from the frigid feeling, fingertips numb.

Bakugou’s mouth bobs open and shut before he tears a hand through his hair, the other never leaving your body, frustrated at the fact that he can’t think of the right things to say. He looks up at the ceiling, a breath expanding his chest so he’s flush with you.

“Every fucking time I close my eyes, I see that shit all over again.” The veins in his body are prominent as he stresses himself out by trying to speak, “I see you, helpless, because I fucked up and lost focus. I-I couldn’t do anything and you needed me an-”

He can’t force the words out, can’t muster them up from the back of his throat no matter how many times he licks at the inside of his mouth, desperately searching his own skin for the answers. The reality of what might come to fruition when he says his truth out loud is too much to bear, no matter how much he knows he has to have this conversation with you. This is not something you both can just move on from, not without addressing it in all of its ugliness first. He wills the words to come out, closing his eyes and breathing deep. And even still, his mind will not cal.

Katsuki is a raging sea and you are the rickety lifeboat caught in his violent storm.

You swirl in his vortex for a moment longer before prodding him, hand pressed flat against his chest. You brush your thumb over his collarbone, “Katsuki, come on, talk to me. Please.”

Bakugou’s hand flinches by his side and you wonder if he wants to reach out to touch you with the pads of his fingers; to use you like an anchor, weighing him down in the right in the right way to bring him back to the current version of reality.

“I’m right here,” you whisper, pushing him further, knowing what he’s trying to tell you, but needing to hear it from his own tongue.

You step into his space and crowd him into the tight expanse of the hallway, and he can’t draw his eyes away from you despite the shame he feels from the tears currently clouding his vision. Every naysayer in his life comes to him in that very moment, telling him that he’s weak and spineless, completely useless if he can’t do the simplest of tasks. They scream at him, clawing at his heart until he’s bleeding out tears, hands shuddering in pain.

All he wants is to see you smiling again; a genuine, shining smile. He wants to watch as your eyes light up when he kisses you, or when he touches you here and there, casually in passing. Bakugou misses the old kindling the two of you had before that fateful night all those weeks ago. There was a familiarity that now feels lost in translation, wafting somewhere between the space separating the both of you.

You’re begging him in his ear now, words lodged like knives into his heart, a new syllable signifying a new blade, “Why are you doing this, Katsuki? Please, tell me!”

That is the last one – the proverbial blade that shoves its way through is spine to split him in two. He can’t help the way his voice shatters when he finally breaks, falling forward on weak knees, “To fucking protect you! Goddammit!”

You take a short step backward, shuffling away from him at his sudden furious outburst, the change in volume startling you. Goosebumps pebble on your skin and you feel a wave of anxiety wash over you, settling in your stomach to eat away at your resolve, that same parasite from earlier flaring up all over again. You swallow the pent-up emotion in your throat, but Bakugou isn’t finished, not yet. Now that he’s finally been ripped open, he can’t stop the flow.

“Every night you’d get further and further away from me,” his hands are flexing at his sides, knuckles turning white, little crackling explosions lighting like a warning sign, “And I can’t fucking get over this shit, okay?!”

The familiar ashen sweetness lingers in the air at the bare minimum usage of his quirk, but it’s comforting in a way. You breathe it in and try to stave off any tears from stemming down your cheeks. It is his turn to crumble, to fall down at your feet and beg for you to help him repair the gaping wound in his chest.

As you watch him fall apart, it’s physically painful to witness the way his body quivers, every muscle coiled and ready to spring into use. His lower lip, full and pink, is wobbling while he tries to form coherent sentences. You’ve never wanted to reach out and touch him more, to calm him with a tender brush of your knuckles over his cheek, or a hand flattened onto the plane of his chest. But he is too far away from you now, distant in the worst way.

It’s like he’s a figurative bomb, building up and ready to detonate. Each passing moment only fills him with more gunpowder, stuffing his throat until he’s suffocating under the notion that he can’t save you. Has he ever been capable of keeping you from harm?

“I-I was weak,” his voice breaks and so does his façade, tears brimming in the ducts of his reddened lids, “I let that fucker get the best of me, and i-it cost you. You were hurt because I couldn’t protect you.”

Bakugou’s palms shudder at his sides, fingers curling around smoke. You want to step forward, to reassure him that he is the furthest thing from weak that you have ever seen, but he cowers from you when you get too close. He reminds you of a caged animal finally set free, unsure of where to step, how to breathe all of the fresh air at once. Almost as if he is withholding himself from you now that his confession has broken through the bars around his heart, echoed loud for you to hear.

“Throwing yourself into danger isn’t going to help,” you answer him, “and neither is suffocating me.”

The fire fueling your bones from earlier returns at the realization that he has been distancing himself from you on purpose. You assumed it had been a subconscious decision based on the trauma experienced from the encounter with Awase, but you never would have guessed he was actively choosing to ignore you, especially physically. And now, with his hands shaking at his sides, you are beginning to wonder if he feels the same pull that you do, the desire to let your palms search one another’s skin to find the answers to your innermost questions.

“The only thing I’m any good at is fighting!” Bakugou falls back against the wall, eyes downcast in defeat as his shoulders slump forward. He opens his palms in front of his body, flexing his fingers. “All I can do is work as hard as I possibly can to be the best. I have to be the best.”

He curls his fingers back to fists, fury coursing through his veins like fire, accumulating in his palms to a head, a bomb settled in the cracks and crevices of his skin. “All I can focus on right now is getting stronger, to be a hero that you can trust to keep you safe.”

When his eyes snap up to meet yours, there’s a flame burning deep in his vermilion irises that makes them look alight, the bright amber color in contrast to their usual hue. It frightens you slightly, sending a tremor down your spine until you are curling your toes.

Bakugou’s hands creak as he turns them to fists, knuckles turning white, “I’ll be the best, even if it kills me.”

The very permanent word involving mortality turns your knees to jelly, bones grinding against one another in a desperate attempt to keep yourself upright. Your throat closes, emotion billowing like smoke in your esophagus until it is pushing into every available space, effectively choking you where you stand.

“Y-You don’t have to be so, so,” you struggle to find the words, breath hard to come by as you gasp for air, “so-”

“So what?!” Bakugou’s voice is patronizing now as he grows defensive at your tone, taking a downward turn to the other side of kind. He grits his teeth and you allow yourself to see him for what he truly is in this moment – a frightened child, begging for a savior, or at least some solid ground. He grimaces, shaking his head, “I couldn’t protect you when I needed to. And if I can’t keep you safe, what else am I good for?”

Silence hangs between the two of you at the heaviness of his words, creating an even further distance as his words settle like embers on your heart.

You want to brush the cinders away, blowing the ash into the wind and along with it, the horrific memories from the past few weeks. His name sits on the tip of your tongue, scratching at the muscle and begging to be freed from the cage of your teeth. Your fingertips ache at your sides, keening towards him with the desire to find something to feel, some tactile version of reality to reaffirm that you have not lost everything. The heaviness in your feet keeps you from shuffling forward, tucking yourself into his body and promising him that you’ll never see him as anything short of incredible.

“See?” Bakugou’s voice shatters into another wave of jagged pieces with every longing look you give him, tossing his arms in the air to show his defeat, “And then you go and do shit like this, where you look at me like I put the fuckin’ sun in the sky every morning.”

He’s wheezing the words out now, manic movements jerking his arms and shoulders, praying that his palms might go off in the middle of this club so you both can get booted out and forced to go home. Maybe then he can break through the barrier of how he has been feeling to show you why he’s treated you like a child.

“How the hell am I supposed to live up to this pillar of greatness you’ve made me out to be? This perfect image of me you have in your mind is a lie,” Bakugou is begging you for an answer with his gestures. His hands reach towards you, never touching, eyebrows cocked upward as his eyes search your face for a secret message hidden beneath your skin. “You think that I can do no wrong, that I’ll always be your hero. And now that I’ve fucked that up, and you still look at me the same exact way, how am I supposed to live with that? With being a fraud?”

Bakugou blinks and two identical tear droplets seep over the corners of his lids, tracking down his cheeks as he gasps for air, “I-I can’t help it when you look at me like I have all the answers when I-I can’t even fuckin’ figure out how I-”

You cover him like sunlight, warm and safe. He feels your mouth against his, your hands on his face and chest and its like you’ve pulled him from where he was floating midair back down to the ground again. Bakugou’s body is flush between your torso and the wall, either side of him pressed into something. He is hot, too hot, like his body temperature has skyrocketed. Sweat trickles down his spine, sticking his shirt to his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur as you part from him.

Your nose brushes against his, the bow of your lips still touching when you speak, “I haven’t been very considerate of you. I was too wrapped up in the way I was feeling that I didn’t stop to consider how it has been affecting you.”

You palm at his face, fingertips fawning over his cheek bones and brows and temples. Bakugou’s jaw is quivering, hands still dormant by his sides, flexed until his palms are splotched red with effort. You run your hand up from his chest to his shoulder, kneading the heel into his muscles to try and relax his body.

“Katsuki,” you call to him. “Look at me.”

And he listens.

The trail of your fingertips on his forearm feels like gasoline, trickling down his skin slowly but surely, making its way to his palms where his skin will act like a detonator. Bakugou grinds his teeth together as he tries to stay focused in on your face, the effort from it all makes the vein on his forehead protrude, thudding profusely beneath his skin.

“Take me home.”

The walk up the stairs to your door is tense, quiet.

Bakugou turns the key into the lock, the door opening with a gentle click. The two of you step inside, your bags strewn on the countertop and your shoes kicked off near the mat. Your hands wring in front of you as he faces away, the only visible thing being his backside.

“I don’t deserve you.”

The words take you by surprise, shaking you to your core. You stumble backward, hand clutched over your heart when it starts to sting, “Wh-Why do you think-”

“Do you know what it’s like to have people’s lives put into your hands, and then to fuck it all up?” Bakugou turns to look at you, hands glowing with the threat of his quirk, “To put the one person you care about more than fucking breathing into danger?”

His jaw quivers, “You didn’t see the look in your eyes when he was putting you through that shit. You were looking to me for help and I was fucking welded to a goddamn wall!”

You reach out to press your fingertip into the center of his palm, diffusing the built-up nitroglycerin in the crevices of his skin. Bakugou’s shoulders shudder, his eyes widening at your touch. You force a smile, but it does not reach your eyes, and he notices.

“Hey,” you call to him, your other hand drifting up to cup his cheek, trying to turn him towards you. “Stop that. Look at me.”

Bakugou’s eyes stop flitting around and focus on you, connecting your gazes. He looks frightened again, like a scared child. All you want is to hold him tight and put him back together again until he feels whole.

You push yourself up onto your toes, nudging your nose over his cheek slowly. You’re taken aback when you feel his hesitant touch dredge over your hip, thumb just beneath your top. It’s the most intimate feeling you’ve received from him in weeks, and it sends every atom of you on high alert. Your spine tingles as you stutter-step forward until you’re pressed into him.

Your breath hitches at his closeness, fanning out over him in a wave of heat that makes him shiver. You feel your heart ready to explode from within the confines of your chest, begging to be let free as it tries to claw its way out of your ribcage. You can’t look away from him, it’s like he’s turned into a magnet for your body.

As you graze over his chest with your other hand, the one against his cheek brushes up into his hair to card through the blonde strands. Your thumb catches against the stubble of his undercut just behind his pierced ears and it makes you smile, remembering the conversation where you coerced him into getting the new haircut in the first place. And now he can’t go a couple weeks without getting it shaped back up.

“Kiss me,” you plead, your touch like that of a siren, calling him deeper into the water, “please, Katsuki.”

In spite of him suffocating you mentally and situationally, you know that he’s been distant physically. It wasn’t hard to realize the shift in affections, especially since you’ve grown accustomed to his wayward glances and casual touches. Once he started to withdraw from you, you began to worry but your own anxiety wound so tightly around your body that it drowned out any other inhibitions that might have drawn you closer to asking questions. Bakugou has never been one to bare his emotions anyway.

Every morsel of him wants to dive headfirst into your waters, to drink you in through his nose and mouth until it is only the essence of you that remains. And yet there is something holding him back, like strings attached to his shoulders, forcing him to stay still.

It is that very look in your eyes right now that keeps him at bay. The reality that you’ve not tainted your view of him makes his stomach churn. You should hate him for letting Awase take advantage of you. You should want to slap him across the face and punch him in the gut. You should want to rip your fingers into his chest and slay him where he stands, cutting a gaping hole where his heart once was, filling it with a black ooze that might represent your disdain and disappointment.

Anything other than this overwhelming prideful look gleaming in your eyes that tells him he could do no wrong.

The sight of it brings tears to his eyes and he has to look away, the weight of it all too stifling as he attempts to breathe again. Bakugou struggles with oxygen, feeling lightheaded as you stand so near to him.

“Look at me,” you beg of him, your own voice sounding raw. You swallow every possible reticence you might have in this moment and focus all of your energy on him, “I love you, okay? There’s nothing you could do to change that, Katsuki. Nothing, so-”

You’re cut off mid-sentence by the familiar feel of his lips, warm and full against your mouth. He has captured you entirely, his hands on your face as he steps in closer to you. You shudder with tears at the sensation of him kissing you for the first time in weeks. A wash of warmth seeps through your body, starting at your head and curling around your spin until it has reached your toes. You feel lightheaded at it all, so wrapped up in him that you can’t focus on anything else.

Bakugou’s arms wrap around your shoulders, his body squatted in front of you to push himself closer into every crevice of available skin. You dip your hands beneath his top, the pads of your fingers mapping out the contours of his muscular frame.

“Fuck,” he murmurs between your teeth, your tongue catching the word by lapping against his gums.

His hands find your backside, squeezing the supple skin like his life depends on it. You moan, rolling your hips forward. Your mind is foggy, your entire being in a haze, at the passionate way his hands obsess over your body.

When he taps your hips with his thumbs, you know what it means. You leap upward, his forearms catching your thighs to wrap you around his waistline. You don’t break away from kissing him. You’re not sure after this if he might retreat back into himself, so you full well intend on milking him for all that he’s worth in every aspect of the word.

The next thing you feel is the cool sheets beneath your steaming backside, sweat making your shirt cling to your body. Your hand sifts through Bakugou’s hair and he nips at your lower lip, relishing in the way the moans fall freely from your tongue.

He sits back on his thighs, tugging his shirt over his head, when he mumbles, “Shirt. Off. Now.”

The momentary burst of authority makes your cunt clench beneath the lace of your underwear. Your eyes go wide, but you do not hesitate to pull the offending fabric from your upper half. Bakugou has settled between your thighs when you can finally see him again. He makes quick work of your bra, flinging the garment across the room carelessly before swooping in to begin sucking at your chest.

He tweaks one piqued nipple between his thumb and forefinger, the other side of you preoccupied with his mouth. You whine, bucking your hips upward. Even through the thick fabric of his jeans, you can make out the impression of his bulging erection. The thought of getting to feel his dick again makes you keen, reaching up to thread your hand into his hair, the other palm digging fingernails into the thick, corded muscle of his shoulders.

“Damn, Princess,” he murmurs as he releases your nipple with a pop. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your breath shudders out of your lungs, fanning over his hair to make the strands shake in the darkness of your bedroom. You wrap your legs around his midsection to try and grind yourself up into his clothed length.

Bakugou slips his hand beneath your shorts, unbuttoning them swiftly as his middle finger finds your clit immediately. You can’t help it when your whole body goes rigid, the once lost sensation of his hands on your lower half returning in a blinding wave of white-hot pleasure.

“Please, Katsuki,” you force yourself to look him in the eyes even though you think you’re seeing stars, “I just want you, please. I want you in me.”

He’s hesitant when he looks down at you, eyes stuttering over which of your features to focus on first. The tip of his middle finger is brushed up against your slick folds, not delving in just yet. Your chest is heaving, eyes clouded with the threat of tears while you palm at him, desperate for every inch of his skin to be mapped out beneath your fingerprints.

“You have me,” he whispers, cracking voice barely audible. He nods, slipping his finger slowly between the walls of your cunt, “You have me, baby.”

As he starts to coil his finger within you, the squelching sound of his digit and your pussy echoing off the walls, he looks you directly in the eyes. His free hand is near your head but you wish he’d touch you with it, your body insatiably itching for his next pass. You lick your lips and go to beg for him again, unwilling to sit through the torture of his fingers, but he stops you with a kiss.

“Let me do this, let me make you feel good.”

You are speechless, left only with a gaping mouth that is claimed by his tongue. He licks at your teeth and cheeks, whining for you to reciprocate while his finger still pumps in and out of you, knuckle dragging in a tantalizing way against your smooth walls. You hold him as tightly as you can by the neck, keeping him anchored to you, the fear of him running away from you again settling like a lead anchor in your belly.

It doesn’t take long for him to push you to the edge of your first orgasm. You’ve been denied of him for so long that you’re sure you could come undone under any circumstance at this point. But still, his thick digits curled up in the heat of you, coaxing forth the first white-hot wave of pleasure makes your body shudder.

“Katsuki,” you pant, rolling your hips in time with his finger’s thrusts.

The coil within your stomach starts to bunch up, so you clench around his finger. You whine, throwing your head back, jaw hung slack. Bakugou kisses up the column of your neck, “C’mon, baby, I know you can do it for me, yeah? You’re so pretty when you come apart.”

His encouragement is what throws you over the edge. You’ve missed the sound of his timbre coaching you into orgasm after orgasm. You cry out, your voice breaking, and your hips fall slack against the mattress as the pleasure digs into you. The silvery strands of your slick coat his fingers, but he doesn’t part from you until he’s sure that he’s lured every last whimper from your lips, every last wash of arousal from your hips.

You have him by the neck, digging your fingers in to pull him back towards your mouth for another drawn out kiss. Your nose and teeth clash, but it doesn’t matter because he’s here and he’s got his hands on you. The way your body sings at his caress does not go unnoticed by him, or rather he relishes in it, basking in the sound of your wanton moans and the reaction of your begging limbs.

“Please, Katsuki,” you’re grabbing for him as he pulls away. Your fingers desperately cling to his skin, digging in and forcing half-moon prints into the tanned flesh, “I need you, please.”

The words throw him back to those moments in the alleyway when your eyes screamed the phrase you’re speaking now. He was powerless to help you then, but he can be the one to save you now.

Bakugou stands to his feet and shuffles out of his pants, his cock throbbing between his thighs when he pulls away his briefs. You try to tug down your shorts but your body is so weak and you can’t force your brain to communicate with your extremities, so you end up pouting, hot tears clouding your eyes in frustration.

“Hey,” he nudges his nose over your cheek before kissing you long enough for you to forget about your predicament. Your body molds to his intentions, hands finding his undercut to sift through the short hair there, his skin providing you with some sense of calm despite the raging emotions thudding like thunder in your brain.

He gently tugs down your shorts, peeling them from your ankles before depositing them on the floor. Bakugou runs his hand down his cock, using his bead of pre-come and what remains of your arousal on his hand to lubricate the skin. You’re salivating at the sight of him, inflamed red cockhead ready to split your cunt wide open. You’ve missed the familiarity of him inside of you, and your body notices because despite just having a spectacular orgasm that should have put you to bed for some time, your pussy flutters as a new wave of slick trickles down to the sheets.

The tip of his cock opens your pussy up enough that you’re keening forward, pleading to take more of him with the canting of your hips. You whimper out beseeching words, eyes searching his face as your hands try to find purchase on his shoulders. He shakes his head, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “Hush, baby. I promise I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”

The duality of his words is not lost on you.

Your jaw hangs open slightly, eyes wide as you look up at him. Bakugou grips the headboard with one hand, the other guiding his cock into your heat. If you look close enough, you can see the threat of glassy tears washing over his pretty red irises, making them look like little jewels in the moonlight filtering through your bedroom windows.

“Katsuki,” you whimper his name like a prayer as he slowly sheaths himself between your folds. He grunts when the base of his cock meets the lips of your pussy, eyelids fluttering somewhere between open and shut at the sensation.

He drops his head, gritting his teeth, “Fuck, I missed you.”

A relieved, broken laugh shakes your throat, the smile left behind making Bakugou see stars. You palm at his chest, “I missed you too, so much.”

The two of you have still been together every day, even sleeping in the same bed, and yet you’ve been so distant it was heartbreaking. You feel the shards of your shattered heart slowly piecing back together with each thrust he throttles into you, his hips slamming into your thighs.

It’s intense, but somehow graceful. Bakugou is not just ramming his cock into you for the sake of doing it, but he’s proving to you with every stroke of him that he’s never leaving your side again. He’s gripping the headboard so hard that his nails are leaving scratches, but you’re more focused with the tantalizing snap of his hips, the drag of his cock and those prominent veins as they stimulate your pussy even further.

His jaw quivers, hands white knuckling as he clutches the headboard even harder, picking up his pace to start building that starburst in your belly. He’s unwilling to let his hands go near you now that he’s got himself sheathed completely.

He doesn’t deserve every part of you, not yet.

Bakugou’s chest twists as he realizes he hasn’t earned his honor back; he hasn’t won the prize of feeling your skin under the sensitive pads of his fingertips while he’s fucking into you with his aching cock.

His breath stutters, heart clenching within the confine of his ribs, at the sight of you, your irises focused on only him. Your pupils are blown wider with each thrust, black swallowing the color of your irises as you reach that peak subservient headspace. His hips move slow but with purpose, his cock pulsing within your walls as you clamp down on him.

Snapping his hips up into you, the heat of it all starts to overwhelm him and he can’t breathe. The mix of your warm skin and the absolute adoration held for him in your eyes is too stimulating once you tighten your cunt around him, trapping his dick in your heat.

“Fuck, baby,” he whimpers, stilling his hips as his nails screech against the headboard.

Your hands are on him in an instance, exploring his chest and shoulders. You lick your lips and force your ass to stay put on the bed, breathing heavy through your lips. You swallow and your throat bobs, only proving further to him how absolutely enamored with him you appear to be.

“Katsuki,” you whisper into the void, cheeks warming with a blush.

Bakugou shakes his head and with the ferocity that he’s gripping the headboard, he wonders if your nailbeds can bleed. He bites down harshly on his lower lip, listening to your pleading calls for a moment too long before responding, “I-I don’t-”

He can’t form coherent sentences, not when he’s buried to the hilt inside of you and you’re gazing up at him like he’s just gotten back from hanging the moon. He squints hard, eyes filling up with tears, “I can’t, fuck.”

“Hey,” your breathless voice catches him in midair, anchoring him back from the dull hallucination that he could never find his way back to you. You reach up to gently press your palm onto his cheek, the cooling touch of your hands doing enough to dispel some of the heat on his cheeks. You push away the sweaty locks of blonde hair sticking to his forehead so you can see his eyes in their full clarity.

Katsuki’s chin wobbles as he looks down at you, forcing his eyes to stay trained in on your face no matter how much he wants to look away. He still doesn’t believe he deserves that look you hold for him within your gaze; the way you tell him that he’s nothing short of a pillar of strength in your mind with a simple look is absolutely baffling.

“Hey,” you call again, tender tone striking a chord in his heart.

Your thumb brushes underneath his eyes, the height of his cheekbones, and you smile at his fragility. Bakugou’s eyes flit around to everything but you, overactive and unable to focus on you when you’re looking at him like he’s painted the stars in the night sky.

His conscience berates him as he lays with his cock buried deep into your pussy, his hips flush with yours, the doubt kicking him in the ribs to remind him that he must be nothing short of a piece of shit – how could he let you fall into someone else’s hands? How could he be so careless? How could he-

“Katsuki,” you rub your hands over his face once more, patiently pulling him from the recesses of his toiling mind, “Come back to me.”

Bakugou’s pupils dilate but somehow you manage to bring his attention back around to your face, connecting your gazes once more. You are struggling to maintain your composure between his cock pulsing within you and the lack of his hands on your skin, your body stimulated but still wanting, but you whimper the words, “Will you kiss me?”

In that simple sentence, Bakugou realizes that he could never truly run from you.

Tears drip down from his cheeks onto your neck, pooling at the little cavity created by your collarbones. You smile up at him, brushing at the droplets as they drip down from his eyelids, cradling his face as he makes the decision to start running back to you instead of sprinting away.

“I love you,” he chokes out the words before claiming your lips with his searing hot kiss.

Your hands dip into the curves of his hips, prodding him to move forward while your lips sink deeper into his. Bakugou groans at the sensation, eyes rolling behind his closed lids, and slowly his palms find your body.

It’s almost like the first time he touched you, his fingertips searching every inch of available skin as if it were new to him. He rolls his thumbs over your ribs, counting each one under his breath as he fucks into you slowly. You whimper when he bites your lower lip, your jaw slack as he starts a biting path of kisses down from your chin to your earlobe.

“Katsuki,” your toes curl when he bottoms out within you, the tip of his cock brushing that delicate, spongy spot at the back of your core. Your nails drag salaciously down his shoulders, drawing little beads of blood in their wake.

“Fuck,” he groans, biting down harshly on your neck. He chokes on a sob before licking and kissing your collarbones, “I love you.”

Bakugou is fucking into you steadily now, his hips slamming into you at just the right angle that the vein running along the underside of his dick drags against your folds. You clamp down on his cock when you feel it begin to twitch again, his cockhead brushing your cervix. He’s sniffling, breath catching at the sound, “I love you so goddamn much. I don’t fucking deserve you.”

He’s overcome with emotion but it only spurs him forward faster. His hips slam mercilessly into you, every rut telling you what he cannot coherently say with words. And you accept his wordless confessions with the tightness of your core, the openness of your eyes.

You respond in fervor, your lips singing his praises as you feel the beginnings of another orgasm curling into a hot fire in the pit of you. It’s like lava has dripped down every vein in your body, lighting your skin on fire with its proverbial heat. You whine, your back arching in the perfect way for his mouth to latch onto your pert nipple.

“Katsu’, please, fill me up,” you whimper, palming at his injured back, finding scars and wounds alike, “I want your come, won’t you come in me?”

He’s nodding around your nipple, affirming you non-verbally, but the gentle tug of his teeth makes you whine again. You are completely distraught with the pounding of his cock into your tight, wet heat, the obscene sounds reverberating off of the walls only to bounce back at you like an echo.

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he grunts, hot tears mixing with the saliva that covers your breast, “such a good girl for me. Takin’ me so well. Gonna take this load?”

You can’t help the way you nod ferociously, pleading with him through both words and actions. You whine, a shuddering of your throat making the sound much more desperate than you intended, “Please, Katsuki. I just want you to stuff me full, I want to be full of you.”

The last time your cunt was full, it was with another man’s seed.

Thinking about it makes your tongue turn heavy and your stomach sour. You grit your teeth and the scent of ashen sweetness fills your nostrils, taking over every thought you’d had previously. You can’t linger your memories on the way something made you feel before, you will destroy your mind and your pride.

All you can focus on is scrubbing yourself clean with Katsuki.

He washes over you like a soothing balm, the heat of his body burning away any trace of anything else from any time before this moment now. Every one of your senses are overwhelmed by him – his body, his breath, his scent. You want to drown in him, only fulfilled through his means for the rest of your days, to dive headfirst into his pain and break through until it is only the two of you left.

You lick at him, the familiar taste of his skin settling on your tongue as you lap over flesh and bone. You beg for his hands to touch every inch of you with wanton moans falling from your lips, scrubbing away at the nightmares and replacing them with the fiery blonde with a quipping tongue to match his superpower. If you thought you might could handle it, you’d ask him to blast you with his quirk, to burn away what is left from before until there is only the now.

“I love you,” you whisper into the dark, “It’s only you, Katsuki. Always.”

Bakugou’s mouth is licking at your neck when you feel his hips still, the telltale sign of his release begging to be set free. You palm at his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes because you can’t hold it in anymore, the words making your chest swell until you think you might burst wide open, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He thrusts forward in time with your chanting, his lower lip quivering with desire as he pumps himself forward at a much faster pace. One of his thumbs reaches down to brush against your clit, stimulating you until you can’t speak in full sentences, let alone syllables. You grit your teeth together and beg for his load, “Fill me up, Katsuki.”

Your words mixed with the tone of your voice are what push him over the edge, the cusp of his release washing over the both of you. Bakugou’s hips stutter, sloppily fucking into you as he chases that blinding pleasure only you can provide him.

“Take it, Princess,” he murmurs into your lips as he claims you by painting your walls white, the final part of you that needed to be wiped clean.

Katsuki’s hands rest on either side of your head as he holds up his quivering body, spent from effort and emotion. You brush your thumb over the tear-stained parts of his face, clearing his skin of what remains from his vulnerable confessions, no evidence left behind. He can start anew, pretend that he never bared his soul to you only mere moments ago.

His eyes never leave you, drinking you in religiously as you blink slowly, irises soaking up every inch of your precious expression. Your pupils shrink enough for him to see the color of your irises clearly, tilting one of his hands upward so he can brush his thumb over the curve of your jaw. Your lids flutter closed at the tender sensation, losing yourself in the feel of his fingerprints.

When you blink your eyes open, you reach upward to tenderly cup his cheeks between the palms of your hands, “I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah?” he leans his head into your hand, nudging his nose over the swell of the heel. Your pulse thuds in his ears and he can tell that you’re nervous based on the pace.

Your voice is thick when you whisper the words that have always rang true in your heart, but you’ve never said aloud because they seemed so pointless. He hears them every day from citizens, begging him for autographs and screaming his name when they see him on patrol. You’ve been afraid that they would fall hollow on deaf ears, futile and empty. But your heart squeezes within your chest and you know that it doesn’t matter anymore. The two of you have learned how precious a few moments can be.

“You’re my hero, Katsuki.”

Your thumbs run back and forth over the skin of his cheeks, seeking out the heat and also providing him what you hope feels like comfort. His cock twitches within the walls of your aching cunt, mouth hung open slightly, just enough for you to see the pink of his tongue.

You nod, sniffling as tears press hot into the back of your eyelids, “You’ve always been my hero, no matter what. Nothing will change that.”

Bakugou kisses the inside of your palm before leaning forward to press his lips to yours. This kiss is slow, deliberate, as if he’s trying to communicate something between the volley of your tongues. You lean up and wrap your arm around his neck when he snakes his hands up the expanse of your back. He’s fully pressed into you now, your bodies flush with one another as he kisses you.

Secret words are passed back and forth from your throat to his, emotion swelling in your chest, begging to burst the longer he’s pressed into you. You curl your hand into his hair, anchoring him to you despite the growing heat billowing in the lack of space between your bodies. Bakugou licks at the seam of your lips and you let him in, you’ll always let him in, your hips rolling forward to meet him at every juncture of your bones.

And that’s how you fall asleep that night, entwined in such a way that neither of you can tell where one of you ends and the other begins.

　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　

a/n: i hope you guys enjoyed it! drop me an ask if you did!!

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #morgan writes bnha #my writing

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mikaze-discord · 3 years

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OG Heavens: Love letters

For these Heavens posts, I had reached out to a few people who just never ended up responding. With projects like these, please at least hear them out, you don't have to do it because I know its a huge project but at least tell them you won't be doing it instead of ghosting them. But apart from that little road block, this project was really fun!!

Please enjoy under the cut!!!!

EIICHI OTORI

From @milkmateartist:

I have always leaned towards megane characters and Eiichi is no exception. However, it's not often you see idols wearing glasses, and that is something I appreciate about Eiichi's design. His color palette also intrigues me since I love deep shades of blue. His royal blue jacket is very attractive, and the way he pops the collar also makes me go "kya!". His voice is also very sexy as well and is pleasing to the ear uwu. I love how egoistic he is too. Being incredibly ambitious he has been able to reach amazing heights that surpass other idols. The one thing that seems to make him unique though is that he really gets zealous and overly passionate when it comes to the power of music, so much that it makes him physically tremble. You could get high off that shit literally. His entire being is centered around being an idol, and all the components of him go above and beyond the requirements. It's not just a job for him or something that simply makes an earning or brings satisfaction. It's pretty much everything to him. For that reason he has made it to the top. There is also the component where he's lonely and isolated emotionally that interests me. Despite being a beloved idol, he clearly didn't get the love he needed growing up. Even though he had Eiji I feel as though his nature was more to protect Eiji and shield him from whatever terrors would arise. I admire his ability to come through all of that and pay attention to the things he really cared about. Eiichi can be himself, his strange, sexy self, but also he acknowledges the lonesome darkness within too. I think that component makes him incredibly powerful.

Extra Details:

While appearing to be a bad guy in the anime (at least), Eiichi seemed to be that typical bad boy idol that would steal away Haruka from the main group. The time when he approached Haruka and took her by the chin is a perfect example. How dare this new guy just think he can have his way with our protagonist! To be honest I liked that aspect about him a bit. While I can't remember my first impression of Eiichi aside from not knowing how to feel about that, he slowly grew on me. He had the appearance of just another selfish idol, demonstrated by swiping the mic away from the announcer at one of his concerts and immediately declaring their foreseen victory. So far that looked rather bland to me, and I was still cheering for STARISH. They really made him out to look like some bad guy who would not play fair and do whatever he could to take the throne (and the girl). It's not surprising his glasses shine adds to his 'freaky antagonist' vibe that the show seemed to try to give off, but however for me I love the glasses beam, thus having the opposite effect.

And then there is the Next Door episode. Now here's where we got to see more of Eiichi aside from when the HEAVENS Dragon demolished the entire stadium. Aside from kya-ing over the EiichiOtoya content (especially where he goes behind otoya and covers his eyes), I got to see more of him here. It surprised me that someone so cocky and confident was actually the same depressed, lonely person that Otoya was. But it was also evident to me as well that he did care about the effect it had on Otoya as well after he sort-of-well mind broke him. I like how he is ambitious but also still caring, as compared to an antagonist that would stop at nothing to achieve their goal regardless of how much pain they cause.

I also enjoy Eiichi because I feel like I can roleplay him well. Usually for me, roleplay has to achieve some kind of goal since I tend to be business oriented. I think to some degree I'm able to practice being a eboy idol through Eiichi, as I do enjoy charming the fans. It also helps that I can naturally play characters with an inflated ego who enjoy charming people.

From @/egoisticCEO on twt:

July 2019. When Eiichi was first introduced to me via his voice, I hated him from the very beginning. His singing, his appearance, his personality – everything about him made me despise him. It’s funny looking back and seeing how quickly my attitude changed towards him, realising I’d been biased against him because of a friend. Finding more about him, hate turned to interest. It seemed like his life hadn’t been the best. Maybe that was why he acted in such a way? Interest turned to liking him more. Maybe I’d misunderstood him. I’d made the mistake of taking him at surface level.

December 2019. Like was slowly turning to love. More and more, I found myself looking at him instead of my current favourites. I found myself wanting him to actually be a part of Egoistic. Once I started devouring HEAVENS Radio and unveiling his true character, it was shocking how quickly I fell. He truly acted like a father to everyone in his band. Giving them what he never received. Everything was for them to thrive.

2020. With how much I was at home, it only made sense I grew more obsessed. I found Life with Thanks’ translation. “We’re irreplaceable to him,” he tells us, and that made me certain that his heart wasn’t as evil as some people liked to believe. He’s a caretaker, someone who wants everyone to feel like they matter. Even at his own expense. Instead of selfish, he’s selfless.

I related to him more than I have to any character – it was comforting. Seeing someone have no choice but to put on a brave face, even when his confidence was at an all time low. 2020 got a lot harder for me, but when I recovered, Eiichi was like a home to go back to. Time and time again, I’d have to break away, but I’d always be invited back in by that stupid smirk and overexaggerated ego and the warmest heart you could ever find. Every scene I watched with him would make me smile. I’d tease him to myself. I still do.

2021. That brings us to now. I can’t see my love for this one of a kind man dying any time soon. I don’t want it to, either. Just looking at him makes me happy! He’s the type of character with so many facets to his personality that you can keep digging and never reach the end. So, in conclusion, I hope I never stop finding new things out about this wonderful idiot. More than anything, he deserves all the love he gives to others, and I’d love to provide it tenfold.

KIRA SUMERAGI

From Anon:

Many have their reasons to love their favorite characters. As for me, why Kira Sumeragi is my favorite character is because there are several things about him that I can relate myself to and there are a few qualities he has that I like about him. If many do not know about Kira that much, they’d look at who he is. He may look intimidating at first and may not talk much, when in actuality, Kira is a considerate, dependable, and mindful guy. Mainly, he is the type of guy that lets his actions do the explaining. He is a hard worker, as an idol, he looks after his bandmates, HEAVENS, like family. It’s like what Eiichi said in HEAVENS Radio about Kira, “he is HEAVENS’ pride!” Although he may not say much, Kira is very observant of his surroundings and never hesitates in his decisions. The members of HEAVENS understand and acknowledge Kira, knowing that he means well.

You can even tell in his solo music! Although there are only two solo songs for Kira, if you read the lyrics carefully, Kira’s thoughts and feelings are shown. Kira always knew that if he cannot explain his feelings through words, then he’ll let his songs and his actions do it for him for you to see. Although the anime doesn’t show much of Kira, the only way to get to know him more is through HEAVENS Radio, also drama CDs like Paradise Lost, and other media like LINE Messenger Japan. There’s still much that I’d want to know about him, but as a start, these things are what makes Kira my favorite character for HEAVENS.

From Anon:

Aside from my huge bias towards OnoD the first thing that drew my attention to Kira was his design. Dark haired anime boys with bright eyes have such a vibe and I loved how mysterious he was set up to be in season 2. But the thing that really hooked me a lot was the found family that Heavens became over the progression of the anime.

Particularly since people in the fandom have a bunch of funky headcanons about Kira being the mom friend in the group, which is incredibly wholesome. Kira’s very quiet and reserved but clearly holds a deep caring for his group members and does what he can when needed which is one of the reasons why he became so loveable for me.

NAGI MIKADO

From @/_PXRFECTIONIST on twt:

If I managed to stan Nagi, so will you.

Greetings. I present to you, once more, a story of how I came to love a character that I wished I threw hands with.

So.

Nagi Mikado.

The possible only utapri character that Shinomiya oshis despise. Thanks to what happened in the anime.

Truth be told, I too was one of them. Until I came to love Both Shinomiya and Nagi. Reason?

Research.

Ya see, it is universally agreed upon that the way Nagi was pushing and pulling at Shinomiya's trauma and DID was… Not okay. So I said "yeah okay what an obnoxious kid i dont think ill ever like him lol" especially since I never come to really warm up to people younger than me.

Boy was I wrong.

My heart really sways easily when I go deep into characters, and why they act the way they are. And also because I chose to roleplay as him, but let's not. Speak of that.

(its actually the main reason i like him in the first place who am i fooling)

Nagi is… Indeed obnoxious, and really has bad manners that are covered up by his cute looks and fame, especially since he's one of the original HEAVENS members, but once you get to really know him.. It makes sense why he's being such a brat. And that is sort of endearing. And knowing how his group is like family to him too, it becomes harder and harder to completely dislike him.

….

He really is a boss man.

He knows what he wants, and how to get it. He knows how to get people to like him without handing over the tiniest sliver of his weaknesses. He acts in his own way that shapes his personality to suit him, yet still manages to be caring and helpful, even if it's hard to see tenderness and good will through his aggression.

Reading his solo lyrics, listening to the drama CDs, even thinking of headcanons due to lack of lore, it all slowly comes together like a lovely parfait to suddenly make you realize..

'Wow…'

'I really do like that rat.

#utapri #utanoprincesama #uta no prince sama #eiichi otori #otori eiichi #Kira Sumeragi #Sumeragi Kira #Nagi Mikado #Mikado Nagi

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meetmeatthecoda · 3 years

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(star emoji) for Grifting With The Enemy :D

Pumpkin!! 🧡🧡🧡 Hello, my dear friend, thank you so much for your endless interest & support!! 😍😍 And for giving me a reason to re-read GWTE, which I haven't done for a loooong time!! 😂😬 (But, the good news is, it low-key got me inspired to hurry up & finish it!! 😏) BUT - in the meantime - here's some BTS info from my re-read under the cut, which is a lot - fair warning - since it's a 4 chapter fic & counting!! ❤️

LOL I forgot how stressful it is coming up with names for random extra people in fics, I hate doing that LOL But I did think it was important to open with Red NOT being a merciless crime lord who kills anyone who displeases him, cause - while he does have that side to him when necessary - that's not who Red is or wants to be.

I liked including that little moment with Red & Dembe about the parallel parking. I love those father/son & brotp moments for them, they're just the best. I tried to sprinkle those in wherever I could in Red's POV in this fic.

I loved the mental picture of Liz - with glasses & beanie a la The Harem - just leaning casually against a bookshelf the first time Red sees her... & he's immediately captivated, just like in canon. Especially with her eyes, I can't NOT write any version of Red that is not completely blown away by Liz's eyes, I mean, come on I also thought it was important that he thinks she's much younger than she is (intentionally part of her persona) & I'm looking forward to writing the reveal of her true age in a later chapter.

I loved writing a Liz that instantly challenges Red, already having heard about him (& more than that, as revealed in chapter 2) & point blank telling him she may refuse the job bc she has a say too. I liked keeping - & even amplifying a little - that dynamic from canon!Liz of always surprising Red & keeping him on his toes, all while he's trying so desperately to stay ahead of her & impress her.

I LOVED writing the brush pass scene - that moment where Red realizes he has officially underestimated her - & LOL I completely forgot I wrote that part about the condom LMFAO wow past!Coda, mighty daring of you 😂😂😂

Plus, I couldn't help the bonus bit about her stealing his phone & tossing it to him to end the chapter, that was just so fun to throw in there!!

I liked opening chapter 2 with Red still thinking about Liz, just to show how she captured his attention, even before he finds out she's been stealing from him. And I liked writing that revelation without any anger on his part, with him understanding it wasn't a full-scale attack on his empire, she's just a thief taking well paying jobs where she can get them, & instead it just shows him how talented she is. I thought that was an important thing to clarify before moving forward.

I LOVED writing Red & Dembe surprising Liz in her apartment, especially the part with Red's snooping & being confused & surprised by what he sees there. I loved kind of creating/designing Liz's apartment to showcase her true self, not her "young thief" persona that Red falls for at first. I wanted it to be clear that Red is fascinated by her seeming duality from the start (canon LOL) as well as just straight-up attracted to her (also canon LMAO).

Also I gave Liz a loft apartment cause I've always loved those!!

And I LOVEDDD writing Red super confident about surprising her & looking forward to taking her off guard by settling in on the couch & all that macho man stuff, only to be rendered fucking dumbstruck when she comes downstairs with no pants on lmfao & I included that little detail of her usually wearing a knife on her leg to show she's not to be underestimated 😏 & I couldn't help but throw in there Dembe kicking the back of the couch, that made me cackle lmfao

I think the truce was important to establish asap bc I didn't want any secrets or lingering animosity between them. That's for canon 😒 Only flirting & sexual tension here, thank you very much.

I had to include Red being a gentleman & asking if she wanted to get dressed, but I also couldn't resist Liz being confident & careless about it, while still hiding tactfully behind the counter. I thought that was a cute exchange.

lmfao of course, I included their coffee preferences being noticed by the other, I think that's an obligatory thing in any Lizzington fic ever, I'm so guilty of that lmfao

I loved the idea of Red being ready to start on a classic Red's Blacklister Presentation but Liz once again stops him in his tracks (while still secretly being impressed by his presence, of course, & I even accidentally switched POVs for no reason to include that?? nice Coda lmfao) as well as trading barbs & quips with him while Red feels awful & guilty at any accidental slights bc he can't bear to insult her.

AM&R vs. AR&M whoops typo lol

I liked the little snippet of dark!Red we see in their conversation of consequences for his enemies, that way Liz sees a little bit of what he's capable of & Red sees how she's not phased by it.

And that last little flirtation & wink to finish the chapter - lol can't resist

Ooooh, I loved switching to Liz's POV (fully ha) for chapter 3, I enjoyed describing how head over heels she is for Red already, that was fun. I liked writing about her lil movie day & chores she's completed, as well as fleshing out her AU past a little with Sam & her young grifting experiences. And her burning her popcorn while daydreaming about Red cause... same 😏

Ooooh, phone conversations are always so fun to write between them, I love trying to get that perfect mix of joking & sincerity & flirting & pining & pressing the phone close to their ear.

I thought it was important to keep (or rather re-invent, since TPTB seemed to drop it like a hot potato 😒😒😒) Liz's intense interest & respect for psychology, especially as a reason for being attracted to Red, since it kind of mirrors one facet of his interest in her. Not to mention Red thinks at first that it's just a useless, do nothing degree for her LOL

Ohhh, I loved establishing that mutual respect & friendliness between Liz & Dembe early on, that's such a fave of mine, I've always loved their friendship & thought it had a lot of potential. Liz loves & respects Dembe for keeping Red safe & Dembe loves & respects Liz for being so dear to Red.

Ugh, I LOVED writing Liz so completely disarmed by Red's relative state of undress at his safe house (paralleling her pants-less parade in chapter 2, of course) bc sameeeeeeee girl.

I also had fun writing Red blabbing on about some story as he often does, meanwhile Liz has already picked the lock on the safe, once again impressing & surprising him while she admires his different passport pics. That was so fun.

And I loved the quick shift to just a little animosity between them with Red insulting her lockpicks & Liz flaunting her thefts from him. I think those little spats give a little electricity & tension to the relationship, even if they blown over quickly, which they always do. And the fact that Red apologizes & they shake hands & make up is very refreshing to me (since they never fucking do it in canon lol fml) & also it's an excuse to write a little teasing physical contact & sexual tension 😁😁😁

And damn, I forgot how fun it is to throw a little teasing jab in there at the end of a chapter, just for fun - probably bc I'm allergic to multi-chapter fics & never write them lmfao wow

Ahhhhhhhh. I remember how much fun I had writing this whole restaurant scene, partly bc it was a difficult & long process (trying not to make all the flirting & physical movements repetitive while fitting in all the necessary dialogue in a semi-non-boring way lol) but also bc it was so fun writing their back-and-forth while seated at a table alone with nowhere else to go & nothing to distract them. I also wanted to take the opportunity to show Red's genuine interest in her as a person & let them spend some quality time together for the first time. I loved the idea of them losing track of time & Dembe having to come interrupt them with a knowing smirk. Also I def referred to the Olive Garden website for the food they ate cause I'm lame lmfaooo

I thought it was cute to throw in that Liz almost couldn't find Red when she arrived but for the fedora marker he placed out for her & then when she's leaving, she can feel his gaze on her the whole way out. Little parallels like that are my guilty pleasure 😁

Omggg I forgot about the end of this chapter, I remember I wanted Red to surprise Liz yet again & I thought the dessert snuck into her bag was a cute touch. Plus, tiramisu is a favorite of mine 😋 I also tried to make the vibe of this phone call a little softer & more tentative, not so much on tender hooks with lots of tension as the previous ones have been, showing how they're getting used to each other & falling in love at a break neck pace lol

Welp, that's all 4 chapters that are posted buttttttttt a sneaky look at my document that I haven't opened for an embarrassingly long timeeeeeee shows my sketch for the rest of the fic which revealssssss....... a detailed 10 chapter map with an epilogue!! Wow, I forgot I sketched everything out in such detail, this isn't too bad, maybe I should actually write this 😂😂😂 And I promise I will, hopefully sooner rather than later!! ❤️❤️❤️

Well, there you go, Pumpkin, I hope that didn't take you too long to slog through & there was something enjoyable in there for you!! 😂 Thank you so much for your interest again, my lovely friend, & getting me excited about this fic again!! 🥰 Much love to you, always, Pumpkin!! 🧡

Fanfic Writers: Director's Cut

#The Blacklist #Lizzington #fanfic #Grifting With The Enemy #ask games #fanfic writers: director's cut #mine #ask #codewordpumpkin #thank you again my friend!!#:D #i hope you enjoy this #:)#much love!!#<3

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jesstielle · 3 years

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okay i have Feelings about NEO: TWEWY and nobody to shout them at because literally nobody else I know plays it which is truly a crime; the original twewy remains one of my favourite games to this day. but anyway. massive NEO TWEWY spoilers inbound:

First of all it truly is a miracle that this game even exists. I never once actually believed we’d get a sequel. Let alone one this good!! It is really, really good!!!

Things I Enjoyed:

- The gameplay. Whoo boy. Up to about 4 team members, anyway. It’s fast paced, button mashing satisfaction, that manages to keep elements from the original game while still being fresh and fun, if not entirely chaotic, which is why after 4 characters, it was a bit like, ‘okay, chill, let us switch out or something’ lmao

- The new characters. Although I feel like we leave the game not knowing as much about them as I would like, the new team are really great, and Nagi in particular really shone in terms of character grown. Rindo.. I feel like I know as little about him now as I did at the start :|a Maybe I just missed something.

I honestly found the teams and their leaders kinda forgettable >>;; Although the heel-face turn on Motoi was pretty great. I needed more from Kanon to feel anything when she, yknow.

The new reapers were... a mixed bunch. Shoka was fantastic, Susukichi was... a bit much in English, great in Japanese, Tsugumi was great but didn’t get enough screen time (unless she gets more post game, I dunno yet) Shiba annoyed the fuck outta me, Kaie was alright.. the others... meh. They don’t hold up to Kariya and Uzuki. And obviously Kubo sucks ass pfft

- The reappearing characters. of course i loved them. i got a hit of serotonin every time one appeared on my screen. neku my son. josh the reapers. i was never a huge minamimoto stan lmao but he was fun. even curry don. but some were DIRELY underutilised which i WILL COME BACK TO

- THE MUSIC. twewy cannot fail on its music, it’s amazing, it’s glorious, it’s multi faceted, it goes hard. and adding in Beat’s psyche, a rhythm mini game acting as the fast walk button???? yes. yes yes yes yes. yessssssss.

- The graphics. Mostly. Everything looked beautiful, and HD, and the character designs were great - not toooooooooo Nomura but Nomura enough, yknow? And the occasional chibi faces were great lol. The chaotic battles sometimes caused lag which... I mean, they coulda given us the option to turn off some of the animations or damage graphics lmao but hey. the forced perspective on shibuya was a bit off occasionally but it was how the original game did it and it’s all for the ~aesthetic~ so hey. And it was great seeing some of the original locations looking so much more fleshed out

- The Localisation. Personally, I think the translators struck a perfect balance that made the kids seem like they’d fit right into today’s culture. It wasn’t forced, it wasn’t ‘look at us we are Teenagers’, it was right on the mark. And it was really, really interesting hearing just how different the Japanese VA lines were compared to the English translations. They really went all out and it paid off, imo.

Dislikes: (i haven’t read the secret reports yet tho)

- UNDERUTILISATION OF THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS - now, look, okay, I’m biased. I admit it. I’m a Josh and Neku stan lmao, so I was looking forward to seeing them the whole game. And as it went on and on and I realised I wouldn’t be until much later, it bummed me out. The bait n’ switch with Beat was funny at first, and I enjoyed it a lot, until I realised that yeah, that’s what they’re going with. Beat’s probably my least favourite partner from the original (sorry) but even disregarding that, it annoys me that they gave him like 10,000x more screen time than even Neku.

Not to mention Shiki and Joshua! Josh in particular I could write a whole essay on how pissed I am. The lost potential. Nobody mentioning him, ever, once. Until he just sorta shows up and says a few things. It makes NO SENSE, he’s the fucking composer, Neku and Beat worked with him, why aren’t they questioning his whereabouts when Shibuya’s turning to shit??????’ I just?????? I had low hopes for Josh content tbf but I am still disappointed :( And naught but one singular Hanekoma mention, as well. Sigh.

Shiki, it’s a shame she doesn’t appear more, she certainly could have - I can think of like 5 ways off the top of my head - having her as a partner would have also been extremely good.

Neku at least we got..... half a week with. and as a PC. And like, I know it’s not supposed to be about them, but throw us a bit more than cheap fanservice, yknow. And Kariya and Uzuki were great too.

- why, oh why, was every single team lackey male???? they couldn’t be arsed to make female designs????? it baffled me.

- SO. MUCH. SHIBUYA. TRAVERSING. I don’t remember if it was that bad in the original?! But oh my god lol. I think a lot of it was padding. Sure felt like it. Paired with the slightly hand hold-y mission progression cutscenes, they coulda cut a bunch of those out.

Other Stuff:

- The voice acting - fantastic in Japanese, okay in English, except for the returning characters?? didn’t sound great??? in english??? I was hyped to turn English back on for Beat but.... nah. Nahhh. Nagi’s English VA was absolutely the best imo.

- They nailed the feel of the old game without totally copying it - the food, clothes, general aesthetic, music. That said, it still felt a little too tied to the original. Ironic considering the rant above I know lmao but... yeah. The player psyches were a nice touch but I feel like it needed something to set it apart a lil more from its predecessor.

- I didn’t realise A New Day existed until literally today and I wish I had seen it before I played Neo. Now I know who Coco is lmao. And Shinjuku’s erasure was part of that too! arghhhh. Nomura stop burying plot points in other things. I’m a DS OG dont do this to me

- Rindo’s time travel power was cool but jumping back to the same point like 3 or 4 times in some cases got old

- You could really feel the KH3 energy of ‘play 30 hours until something or someone pivotal finally appears’ lol. Nomuraaaaa.

... anyway.

TL;DR good game, needed more Josh, also needs more fans please

#twewy #neo twewy spoilers #neo twewy #yoshiya kiryu #neku sakuraba #spoilers

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rpgmgames · 5 years

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November’s Featured Game: Grimm's Hollow

DEVELOPER(S): ghosthunter ENGINE: RPG Maker 2003 GENRE: Indie RPG, Adventure WARNINGS: Discussions of death, losing a loved one, grief SUMMARY: Grimm’s Hollow is a spooky, freeware RPG where you search the afterlife for your brother. Reap ghosts with your scythe, explore haunted caves, and eat ghostly treats on your journey through death.

Download the game here! Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

Introduce yourself! *BB: My name's Bruno and I did some of the music along with Nat! I’m super happy to have participated in this game! *NW: I’m Nat Wesley, a.k.a. Natbird! I’m a composer available for hire with a few projects in the works. I’m honored to have had the chance to work on the soundtrack to Grimm’s Hollow! *GH: Hello! I go by ghosthunter online; I started developing RPGs with a friend in school when we found out that we both enjoyed RPG Horror. I enjoy art, webcomics, cartoons and narrative-driven indie games a lot. I bought RM2K3 on sale and started pouring pixel art into it, before learning how to do things like chase scenes, cutscenes, etc. I used to fantasize about making my own game, drawing dungeons and ghosts in the back of my sketchbooks, before I finally started Grimm’s Hollow. Now I’m near the end of high-school, and I’m hoping the best for uni!

What is your project about? What inspired you to create this game initially? *GH: Grimm’s Hollow, originally, wasn’t as ambitious or personal. It was simply just going to be “my first game”, something that I could finally put my doodles and RM2K3 skills to. I wanted a game that a younger me would have enjoyed, back when I first discovered the classic RPGMaker games and replayed them constantly for those endings. That was my initial inspiration. It eventually evolved into an action turn-based RPG that relies on timing, yet it’s mostly narrative-driven. You traverse death in search of your sibling, and try to make an escape. There are unexpected pieces of me that ended up in this game, some of which I’m still noticing even now.

How long have you been working on your project? *GH: Since the summer of June 2018.

Did any other games or media influence aspects of your project? *GH: Standstill Girl, OFF by Mortis Ghost, Undertale, Over The Garden Wall, and the animation medium in general.

Have you come across any challenges during development? How have you overcome or worked around them? *GH: Many! Making your first game is such a giant learning curve, that the list of challenges goes on. I would say that the most difficult issue I encountered (and that, in some ways, I am still facing after release) is working around the limitations of the game engine I am using. I wanted to see whether creating an engaging but simple 1-party RPG in RM2K3 (without going completely custom) was feasible, and I experimented with quick time events as part of that. I worked around the engine’s built-in formulae so players could see progress when they upgraded their stats - although the game might display as defence as “10”, in reality the game stores it as 40 since the engine splits defence by 4. Since I did not want to create an RPG which was too complex for my first game, I also scrapped traditional staples such as armour or weapons. There were also issues such as having an appropriate “game over” handling event which wouldn’t shoot you back to the title screen after you lost a battle; getting RM2K3 to play a small cutscene where you faint and respawn somewhere else was tricky. I felt that if the player had to reload after a loss, it would disrupt the game flow.

Have any aspects of your project changed over time? How does your current project differ from your initial concept? *GH: Like I mentioned before, the game started off impersonal. I just had a soft spot for a spooky cute aesthetic, and I wanted to indulge in that. It was (and in its essence, still is) meant to be a short story, to keep the player invested for the short game length - nothing grandiose. The original draft did not have Baker play a role in the narrative - he was just an ordinary shopkeeper NPC. For a long time during development, Lavender did not even have a name. In the very first draft, she was a silent protagonist the player could name and customize. But she played a very active role in the final outline, so it was hard not to give her own unique voice when one emerged from the narrative naturally. I am glad I did; she grew on me quite quickly! Grimm was virtually unchanged from beginning to end. The only difference was that a close friend suggested that he seemed like he would be into drinking Oolong tea - so that’s what he offers you when you meet him. Timmy also did not go under massive overhauls like Lavender and Baker did, but his relationship with Lavender became much more fleshed out as I wrote the narrative. In other facets of the game’s design, there were not many changes to the original prototype.

What was your team like at the beginning? How did people join the team? If you don’t have a team, do you wish you had one or do you prefer working alone? *GH: It was just myself, doing the art, writing, programming, etc. But halfway through creating the second cave, I realised I would need a very specific sound for Grimm’s Hollow. So, I contacted Nat for music, but I also created a post on tumblr calling for a composer since there were many tracks to make. I met Bruno as a result! I am very happy with their work and I am so grateful I’ve got to work with them! (Some players are asking for an OST release, which is in the works).

What is the best part of developing a game? *GH: I really enjoyed the early stages of development: creating new tilesets, sprites and maps and piecing them together in the editor, then taking a small screenshot and sharing it with my friend over summer vacation … It was nice to see the game’s world slowly come together. I think that’s what I enjoyed the most from beginning to end: that sense of world-building, that sense of relaxation from making a small cosy game. The latter started to disappear as work and other responsibilities started to intrude, and pressure began to seep into development time - but I never stopped loving making the world and characters. I also want to say that, by lucky chance, I have met a lot of kind people from making my first game. I’m very grateful for that, so thank you to everyone.

Do you find yourself playing other RPG Maker games to see what you can do with the engine, or do you prefer to do your own thing? *GH: All the time! Other RPG Maker 2003 projects are great inspirations for pixel art tilesets, as well as how to code harder features such as custom menus. They’re also just fun to play.

Which character in your game do you relate to the most and why? (Alternatively: Who is your favorite character and why?) *GH: Lavender and Timmy are relatable to me in multiple ways. I can’t elaborate on Timmy since that would go into spoiler territory, but I somewhat relate to Lavender’s insistence on managing her life on her own - sometimes to her own detriment. I’d say the most fun character to write for was Grimm. He can be unintentionally silly while speaking in the most formal way, but also very caring too. Everything he does and says was easy to write, whereas I had to think harder for the interactions between everyone else - especially for very crucial scenes regarding their development. That being said, my favourite is still the game’s central two siblings. I can not pick between them for the life of me.

Looking back now, is there anything that regret/wish you had done differently? *GH: I wish I started testing even earlier! Not only does it give you a good sense of what’s missing, but seeing people enjoy what you’ve made yet get hindered by bugs is a very strong incentive to fix your game immediately. When I was lacking motivation or was stuck, I found that good feedback and support made me motivated again. I also wish that I could have pushed the deadline a little further, or perhaps released the game on Early Access since it will take me a while to refine post-release bugs - but as it is, the 31st of October really was the deadline for my game due to external circumstances (no, that deadline wasn’t just because it was Halloween!). Other than that, I wonder if using an updated version of RPG Maker would have produced the same game …? It’s hard to tell, but I hope people enjoy it for what it is - I will be working on that post-release patch soon!

Do you plan to explore the game’s universe and characters further in subsequent projects, or leave it as-is? *GH: There are no current plans, but I would be happy to have the opportunity to improve and expand on the game. As it is, the game’s released for free and done as a hobby, so I would struggle to do that by myself.

What do you most look forward to now that you have finished the game? *GH: Earlier on, I was really looking forward to players’ reactions. Games are made to be fun, and I would have felt distraught if my game didn’t achieve what it was set out to do. Yet it was not just about the gameplay; it was about the narrative. I hoped that what I found funny, the player would too; what was heartfelt to me, was heartfelt to the player as well. Like sharing a laugh, or just a good experience together. I hoped they would enjoy the feeling that went into it, despite the struggle of making it against circumstance and limitations. Now, I look forward to resting and sleeping once this over. I want to explore my other interests, improve, and explore new media. I want to relax, and refocus again like I was before the heat of development.

Is there something you’re afraid of concerning the development or the release of your game? *GH: Bugs! Some are easy to fix, but others are harder due to the limitations of the engine (e.g an error in one ending is caused by an overflow error).

Do you have any advice for upcoming devs? *GH: Show your game as early as possible, to as many people as possible. As soon as you have something playable, it’s ready for feedback. You’ll see if that game mechanic you spent hours refining works, or if it doesn’t work and why. You’ll understand what players enjoy and what they want more of, but also what they don’t like or don’t enjoy. And you will definitely encounter bugs. You’ll be able to pinpoint and fix minor problems early on that can easily become a larger issue later. You’ll be able to fine-tune your game so its best bits shine, and the difficulty is just right.

Question from last month's featured dev @dead-dreams-dev: Is there anything you’ve added to your game for no other reason than because you’re hoping fans will get a kick out of it? Fanservice, fourth wall breakage, references to other games, jokes, abilities that are just ridiculously overpowered and badass, etc? *GH: It’s hard to say; game design is trying to find the intersection between what’s good for the player, what the developer enjoys, and what’s feasible to implement. Every decision made should be conscious of that … I think a lot of the game’s early light-hearted jokes was not only made because I enjoyed it, but I hoped the player would “get a kick out of it” too. But more so, I think it’s because I would struggle to write a story which is serious and bleak from beginning to end. The game is a little self-indulgent in the narrative that way.

We mods would like to thank ghosthunter & team for agreeing to our interview! We believe that featuring the developer and their creative process is just as important as featuring the final product. Hopefully this Q&A segment has been an entertaining and insightful experience for everyone involved!

Remember to check out Grimm's Hollow if you haven’t already! See you next month!

- Mods Gold & Platinum

#rpgmaker #rpg maker games #indie games #pixel games #rpg #adventure #cute #grimms hollow #grimm's hollow #gotm #game of the month #gotm 2019 #2019 #game of the month 2019 #november #november 2019

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ericsonclan · 4 years

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A Part of the Family

Summary: The Everetts are getting ready for Christmas and Louis gets to tag along for some holiday fun.

Word Count: 2539

Read on A03:

“New stockings! New stockings!” AJ chanted, bouncing happily in the backseat of Clementine’s car. The boy had been crestfallen when Lee had opened up a box of holiday decorations only to find that water had seeped in and wrecked most of them, their stockings included. But once it had been announced that new stockings would be bought, he immediately brightened up, excited by the opportunity to decorate his own stocking and also the possibility of an even bigger stocking than before.

Clementine and Louis shared a knowing smile as they looked back at the boy and then at each other. Louis had been at the house to help the Everetts with decorating for Christmas when the damaged box was discovered. So after the lights had all been strung round the house and the Christmas tree decorated, he’d tagged along with Clementine and A.J. on their quest to get new stockings.

Pulling into the parking lot, Clementine looked towards their neighborhood Target. “Doesn’t look too busy. I think the cold is keeping people away,”

“That and people are probably procrastinating till the last second when it comes to buying gifts,” Louis noted.

Clementine chuckled at the slight tone of judgment within Louis’ voice. He took his gift giving very seriously. All his gifts had been bought back in November, but additional gifts were constantly being added to the pile as he spotted more “perfect” presents that he simply couldn’t pass up. The boy was lucky he came from money, otherwise he’d bankrupt himself each Christmas.

Hopping out of the car, the trio walked hand in hand, A.J. swinging Louis’ and Clementine’s arms back and forth as he scampered along between them. Once they had cleared a patch of ice, Clementine and Louis lifted their arms and swung A.J. back and forth between them, joining his excited laughter with their own. Stepping through the entrance, they all let out a breath of relief as the warmth hit them.

“There’s a shopping cart!” A.J. cried, running forth excitedly and grabbing the first cart he spotted.

“Remember, goofball, we’re just here for the stockings, not anything else,” Clementine cautioned.

“Well, if we see something really awesome then maybe I could pick it up for you…” Louis offered before pausing when he saw Clementine raise an eyebrow. She’d already given him a talk about the half dozen early Christmas presents he’d given A.J. and how he was setting unrealistic expectations for Christmas day. Giving a sheepish grin, Louis clammed up and settled for holding his girlfriend’s hand while she picked up a red shopping basket with the other.

Going down the Christmas aisles at Target, the trio soon reached an aisle that was completely covered with stockings on one side. There were plenty of different pre-made designs that ranged from snowmen to reindeer to snowflakes, but Clementine strode past of all of them and grabbed four blank red stockings.

“Four?” Louis asked curiously.

“Of course. There’s one for you too,”

Louis blushed happily at that, a flustered smile crossing his face.

A.J.’s eyes bugged out at the news. “Does that mean Louis is spending Christmas morning with us so he gets to open his stocking in the morning too?”

Clementine shook her head. “Sorry, kiddo, but I bet Louis wants to spend Christmas with his own family-” she paused when she caught Louis looking at the floor. “Aren’t you?”

“Well, my dad’s gonna be out of the country Christmas day closing a business deal in Japan and my mom’s celebrating Christmas with her husband and Phil so I just mailed them their gifts ahead of time. I usually crash Marlon’s Christmas since his parents don’t mind but he might actually be spending most of the day with Sophie now that they’re dating. And Violet is going on a road trip with Prisha so…”

“Louis, if you want to spend Christmas morning with us, all you have to do is ask,” Clementine said, a smile crossing her lips. “We would love to have you,”

“Really?” Louis’ eyes widened in excitement. I mean if Lee doesn’t mind-”

“He won’t. If anything, he’ll be just as excited as A.J. is,” Clementine glanced down at her little brother who was practically buzzing with excitement.

“Well then, if everybody wants it… I’d love to spend Christmas with you guys,” Louis’ smile grew at his statement.

“Yeah! Louis is coming for Christmas! This is gonna be the best Christmas ever!” A.J. declared, wrapping his arms round Louis’ waist in a tight hug. Louis affectionally patted A.J.’s afro as Clementine looked on happily. It warmed her heart to see how taken A.J. was with Louis. A few months into their relationship and it already felt like he was part of the family,”

“Well then,” Louis cleared his throat before nodding towards the basket. “Are we ready to check out?”

“We should probably pick up a few other things first. Glitter glue, puff paint, cotton balls, stuff like that,”

“Then away we go to the craft aisle!” Louis pointed his finger dramatically and began to stride off until he paused and looked back. “Do either of you know where the craft aisle is?”

Clementine rolled her eyes good naturedly. “Follow me, you two,”

---

About a half hour later they were back home. Lee, who had been busy in the kitchen while they’d been gone, greeted them at the door with a smile, his red apron dusted with flour as well as his hands. “Welcome back, you three. There’s hot cocoa on the table if you want to set up there,”

“Thanks, Lee. Ooh, is that cookies I smell?” Clementine asked, taking off her coat and setting it on the rack by the door.

“Yup. Sugar cookies – your favorite. Dusted them with red and green sprinkles and everything,”

“COOKIES!” A.J. shouted, booking it toward the kitchen.

“Only two to start out with, son, then we’ll see if you can handle more from there!” Lee called. He turned back to the couple with a smile, shaking his head. “That boy’s got me feeling my age. All I want to do is settle down with my hot coca by the tree but here he is tearing through the house like he hasn’t already been doing that all day,”

“He’ll refocus when we get the stocking supplies out. Louis?” Clementine looked back at her boyfriend who held up the bag of supplies.

“Got em right here,”

“Great. We’ll lay everything out on the kitchen table so we can get started while we snack,”

Bringing the supplies into the kitchen, they all worked together to clear off spots for each person to have their own workstation with space for their hot cocoa and plate of cookies as well. After a few minutes dedicated to eating their winter goodies they opened up the supplies and each person began to strategize on how they would decorate their personal stocking.

“I’m doing Disco Broccoli!” A.J. declared loudly, grabbing the red and green puff paint. “But I’m putting him in a Santa suit!”

“That sounds great, kiddo,” Lee replied with a smile. He had taken the brown paint and was beginning to lay it copiously across his stocking. Clementine eyed his choice of color warily.

“What are you making over there. A yule log?”

“Oh, I guess it sort of looks like that now, huh? No, I’m trying to recreate the crossing of the Delaware. Figure it’d be the perfect choice since it happened on Christmas Day. It may be a bit ambitious considering my skills, but I’m sure I’ll get by,”

Clementine shook her head, smiling. Her father’s love of American history really did make its way into every facet of life. Grabbing another tube of red puff paint, she began to write her name neatly atop the border of her stocking. Looking over, she saw that Louis was watching her closely, a tube of green puff paint in his hands. Slowly and delicately, he began to write his own name upon his stocking just as she had done with hers.

“Glad you could join us, Louis,” Lee commented, smiling over at the young man with approval.

“It’s an honor to be here, sir,” Louis replied, a shy smile on his face.

“Just call me Lee, son. You know that by now,”

Louis nodded quickly, his eyes falling back upon his work. It was clear that being around Lee sometimes still overwhelmed him. Clementine figured it was because he felt he had so much to prove. But in her eyes, he’d already proved himself already and she knew that Lee for the most part felt the same way. Clearing her throat, she decided to announce what had been decided on the shopping outing.

“A.J. and I invited Louis to spend Christmas morning with us,”

Louis’ eyes shot over to Clementine’s and then to her father, clearly nervous. But Lee’s reaction made it immediately clear his fear was unfounded.

“That sounds wonderful. There’s always room for another round the Christmas tree. I guess we’ll be keeping your stocking at our house then, right, Louis?”

“Yes, sir. Lee! Yes, Lee,”

Lee smiled encouragingly. “I’m sure our Christmas will be all the merrier with you there,” His approval seemed to set Louis’ mind at ease. The boy’s shoulders relaxed, and he returned to working on his stocking with a calmer focus than he’d had before.

As time progressed their stockings truly started to take form. Clementine was going for a classic look with a Christmas tree upon her stocking. The tree had always been one of her favorite parts of Christmas: picking it out, setting it up, decorating and basking in the glow of the Christmas lights. There had been many years without that after the death of her parents, but Lee had brought back the joy of welcoming in Christmas in full force. The Everetts always went big with their Christmas tree, getting at least an eight footer and decking it out with so many ornaments it was a wonder the branches didn’t collapse under their weight.

“Wow, Clem, that looks awesome!” A.J. commented, his eyes practically sparkling in admiration. His own stocking was smeared with all sorts of paints and spurts of glitter now, but if you squinted you could make out the concept of Disco Broccoli within the chaos.

“Thanks, goofball. Yours is looking really groovy too,” Clementine grinned when A.J. beamed at that description. Thanks to Disco Broccoli, he’d been calling everything he liked “groovy”. Glancing across the table at Lee’s stocking, Clementine tried to stifle a chuckle but only half succeeded.

Lee raised an eyebrow as he heard the sound, smiling over at his daughter. “What? Are you not impressed with my rendition of Crossing the Delaware thus far?” He held up his stocking so they all could see his work, leading to tittering laughter all around.

“It looks like poos with Christmas hats on!” A.J. chortled at the sight.

“Now I don’t think it’s that bad,” Lee protested, glancing back at his work. Sure you can’t really make out who anyone is considering they’re all stick figures and it sorta looks more like they’re floating on a cloud than paddling through the water, but it’s certainly a unique design,”

“Oh, definitely. The Christmas hats were an inspired design choice,” Louis replied, his smile growing when he saw Lee nod in approval at his comment.

“Thank you! I’m glad somebody enjoys my artistic efforts!”

Clementine looked over to see how Louis’ stocking was comparing to all of theirs and her eyes widened in surprise. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but surely not something so… delicate. Louis’ stocking was covered in a myriad of pale blue music notes of all sorts and scattered among them were falling snowflakes done in white glitter puff paint. Each snowflake had a heart at its center, giving an air of romance to the entire design.

Catching Clementine looking at his work, Louis paused in his careful application of another music note, grabbing a cookie and stuffing it in his mouth instead of coming up with something to say.

“I knew I was dating a musician but not an artist to boot,” Clementine commented, pausing in her own work to nab another cookie.

Louis smiled shyly at the praise before a playful smirk emerged. “Yours is looking impressive too, though may I suggest one addition? Instead of the classic star atop the Christmas tree, what if instead you had…” he paused, grabbing an orange pompom and placing it on the stocking, “a clementine?”

Lee chuckled. “That’s a good one, Louis,”

“Yeah, it’s like Clem’s own special tree!” A.J. stated happily.

Clementine rolled her eyes at the unanimous approval but couldn’t keep a smile from showing. “Alright then. If you all insist,”

“Hooray!” Louis leaned forward and placed a quick kiss upon Clementine’s cheek. “I knew you’d recognize my genius someday!”

That one definitely had Clementine rolling her eyes again. She was glad to see Louis truly unwinding and being himself in front of Lee though. The first few times he’d come over he’d been too nervous to even reach for her hand.

---

A little while longer and the stockings were all complete. After accounting for drying time, Lee shook them free of residual glitter then draped them on the bannister. “Quite the stockings we’ve made for ourselves. I think Santa will be proud when he sees them. He turned round to face the others. “Now that that’s done, should we settle in for a movie night? I was thinking it’d be the perfect opportunity to introduce Louis to Muppet Christmas Carol ,”

“That exists?” Louis asked in surprise. “I love the Muppets! I’m game!” He grinned over at Clementine who nodded in agreement.

“I’ve got nothing else planned for the night. A.J.?” She turned to ask her brother but found that he had already run over to the TV and pulled out the treasured DVD.

“It’s Muppet time!” A.J. bounced with excitement as he clutched the movie to his chest.

Grinning in amusement, the others all settled upon the couch to start the film. Clementine rested her head upon Louis’ shoulder as the lights dimmed. It had been a long day. As much as she loved Muppet Christmas Carol , she might just fall asleep on everyone. She stirred though as she felt Louis gently squeeze her hand. She looked over at her boyfriend, smiling softly.

“Thanks for including me today. And inviting me to Christmas,” he whispered.

“Of course. It’s always fun having you over. And…” Clementine paused, biting her lip as her cheeks lightly flushed, “I’m looking forward to Christmas with you,” Even in the darkness of the room she could see Louis’ large grin at her words. Before he could say anything more though, they were both hushed by Lee.

“No more talking you two – the movie’s starting,” Lee watched Muppet Christmas Carol religiously. There would be no chatting or pausing during the film.

Letting out an almost imperceptible sigh, Clementine nuzzled Louis’ shoulder and closed her eyes. It had been a wonderful winter day; she couldn’t wait for Christmas.

#fanfic #ericson's diner au #clouis #ninja fam #twdg louis #twdg clementine #twdg aj #twdg lee #twdg #twdg christmas #ericsonclanchristmaschallenge

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hollenius · 4 years

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Talking Heads: Are These Guys Trying To Give Rock A Bad Name?

Having fun trawling the internet for more old interviews and things with different bands & musicians. Here’s a Talking Heads one from 1977.

Talking Heads: Are These Guys Trying To Give Rock A Bad Name?

Nick Kent, New Musical Express, 25 June 1977

TALKING HEADS: it's a term they use up in the high-rise skyscrapers that house all the cogs in the corporate machinery cranking out network television for the American people.

The big-wigs in the boardroom – the William Holdens and Robert Duvalls of Network land – have a name for the lowest common-denominator programme non-personalities – the newscaster, weather-reporters, and other old warhorses who sit head and shoulders directly on camera mouthing out their obligatory tasks. These are the "talking heads" of American TV land; utterly boring, but necessary.

Talking heads with greying hair, dabs of make-up and dandruff removed from the shoulders of their suit-jackets, they sit austerely informing the public of the nation's daily occurences – the rapes and murders, the military campaigns abroad, the latest government manouevres. No opinions, no subjective slant to their reports – they simply precis it down, feed it out to those millions of tubes and when it's over they go away, back to the bar or to the suburban home, wife and kids.

David Byrne, guitarist and singer for the Talking Heads, an American rock group, has a song that he wrote and performs entitled 'Don't Worry About The Government'. It usually gets played early on in the set, with no prefacing explanation – just Byrne's reedy high-pitched voice almost stammering "This next song is called..."

And every time he introduced it to an audience in England, certain factions would snigger or boo or howl derisively because Talking Heads after all are a NEW WAVE group and if you are a New Wave group you must write direct anti-status quo, sloganeering songs of dissent. Just like The Clash or Chelsea or...

But Byrne's song isn't like that at all.

It's about an ordinary man who owns an apartment in some American suburb and who lives a quiet, fairly inconsequential existence, going to work in the morning and returning in the evening, who gains pleasure from life simply through drinking wine with friends or reading a book. There is no hint of moral castigation, no hint of cynicism, Byrne just places himself in his character's psyche and explains himself through his song.

It's a rare talent this, something much closer to the art of the very best short-story writers, a talent that only Ray Davies and Randy Newman before him, out of all the thousands of post-war song-writers, have bothered to identify with and explore perceptively.

"I just thought," said Byrne, "that lyrics could be used to strip down conversations, just normal day-to-day converstions and dialogues, and strip away all the phoney embellishments and posturing right down to essentials so that they would actually say something directly, without having to throw in all the 'Oh yeah, baby' or 'Hey, bitch I'm coming to get ya right now' or...

"Pa-a-arty," chips in Jerry Harrison, the Talking Heads' keyboard player.

Everybody laughs.

NOT AN easy band to write about, these Talking Heads. They mystify arid confuse simply because they so patently lack any dint of the arch brand of mystique that forms a patented cloak for the rock star enigma. Four intelligent, straightforward individuals, the very straightforward nature of their music and their image is somehow unique to the genre they have chosen to work within.

Not that the press haven't attempted time and time again to write about them, almost always in flattering terms.

They emerged as a live attraction in the hot summer of 1975 when Manhattan's CBGB's had suddenly been designated the centre-point of all new-wave rock activity, and were immediately slotted in with the likes of Television, Patti Smith, The Ramones, and Heartbreakers as the pace-setters right there at the vanguard of this brave new scene. Convenient tags like 'punk' and 'art-rock' found themselves strange bed-fellows in numerous articles consummated by the inevitable bandying of the term 'minimalism'.

New York rock critics, having witnessed the ugly death of the New York Dolls brand of gashed-up rock, latched on fast to this new austerely dressed-down form of the music, and the Talking Heads, suddenly caught in the swell, found themselves holding down the cover of the prestigious Village Voice with a photograph taken at only their third gig. Inside was a rave-review of said show with an extensive article.

Since then, coverage has been as extensive as it has been perplexingly unforthcoming in regard to mere bottom line info on what the band were actually all about.

What was disclosed was that the band was a trio then, led by the angular, neurotic-looking Byrne who carried all guitar, vocal and composing chores, while the bass-player was a slight blonde-haired girl called Tina Weymouth whose basic feminist features were undermined by a slightly asexual manner. Drummer Chris Frantz was baby-faced and pleasantly effeminate.

Their music, though, seemed incapable of being pigeon-holed and continually presented reviewers with a daunting problem.

Having witnessed the band on four separate occasions over this last highly successful European tour, it became at once apparent that the care of Talking Heads' repertoire – principally Byrne's songs – is not something that casual acquaintance can unveil. At first, they intrigue as much as they bemuse, but the deeper you dig the more you uncover. Like Television, Talking Heads must be divorced from pigeon-holed surroundings because there is nothing currently existing in the rock context that they can be favourably compared to.

Byrne's melodies are so insidious that they often totally by-pass the conventional quarters that rock music usually attempts to stimulate, instead going deeper, often lodging themselves in your subconscious. One song, after I'd witnessed the band only once at the Rock Garden, somehow kept manifesting itself in my dreams – this strange, utterly disarming descending chord motif would haunt me until I'd wake up desperately trying to recall it. It was only later that I even got to learn the song's title, 'The Book I Read'.

THIS IS how the band's music works – in a way that transcends conventional avenues of 'rock criticism' where parallels to established musical forms become redundant and trite. When one has finally achieved some intimacy and contact with the repertoire, the music alone is overwhelming at times. One song – Byrne's 'I'm Not In Love' – twists and turns, its twined guitar rhythms chattering and spitting like snap-dragons with sudden unsettling changes, its chorus brash and pointedly announced – before it charges off, climaxing in a devastating one chord richochet of sound. Each song takes on a personality of its own as one becomes more and more acquainted – the jagged paranoid thrashings of 'What Is It?' full of technical malevolence, the richly textured abrasive changes of 'No Compassion', that utterly disarming motif to 'The Book I Read'.

Similarly the lyrics make themselves apparent in this same insidious fashion, via sudden dazzling couplets or single lines that grab you as Byrne's introvert-gone-psychotic delivery tortuously builds up and up, eyes reeling like wild horses in a flood, his pitching often totally awry but his sheer intensity galvanising because this man is truly grabbing hold of his songs, each and every utterance, like a drowning man grabbing straws.

Byrne's performance is, in fact, full of the tortured passion and gut-commitment that many of us were hoping for and found so disappointingly lacking in Tom Verlaine's recent shows in Britain. Like Verlaine, Byrne is totally the master of his chosen medium, yet there is an edge to Byrne that is so much more human.

Where Verlaine is oh-so calculatingly distant, Byrne's thrashing desperate need to communicate his songs grants his music a whole other dimension of sheer humanity and warmth a million light years removed from the cold arch-romanticism of Television's guiding light.

OFF-STAGE, sitting with his cohorts in Talking Heads, Byrne exudes all the cooped-up mannerisms of a caged bird. He seems to be suffering from some arch nervous defect that would need a constant ingestion of valium to assuage. Twitching almost, he sits hunched up in a chair, ungainly like a parody of look-alike Tony Perkins. When he talks, his voice is weak and reedy and often his attempts to explain certain facets of his songs – particularly his lyrics – lead him into weird tangential awkward ramblings that cause other members of the band, Tina Weymouth in particular, to open displays of ridicule which make him even more edgy. He looks embarrassed and bows his head slightly.

Observing him, I can't help feeling concerned for his obvious discomfort, as if any form of socializing causes the man to undergo real psychic pain. He later admits to the gross discomfort of what is really just a fairly casual conversation, and claims that performing affords him infinite more relaxation.

"I can express parts of my personality on stage that I would never dare do in any other context."

Byrne's past remains obscured by the haziness of his own recollections. He talks about working in art galleries in the past, though he didn't in fact paint, while he claims his previous vocation while in college was to write up detailed questionnaires, until song-writing became an infinitely more agreeable pastime.

In contrast, the other three members of Talking Heads carry themselves in this social set-up with an ease and general open-ness.

Tina Weymouth appears fairly disinterested at first, more concerned with scanning the pages of the latest Oui, but is suddenly forthcoming when a question is either directed her way or else grabs her attention. Chris Frantz seems perfectly in sync with the whole interview routine, lavishing over most of his answers with great and entertainingly 'camp' detail.

And then there is Jerry Harrison, the newest member in the group, a veteran of only six months or less, but who has already obviously orientated himself into the consortium with great alacrity. Harrison is the most locquacious of the band and, with Frantz, the most forthcoming. His history as a musician is already full of worthy fodder for discourse, since he started his career as an integral founding force with Jonathon Richman in the Modern Lovers, about whom his reminiscences are nothing if not extremely witty.

"Well, you probably know that we started the Modern Lovers as a real cause – y'know, we were anti-drugs for a start, due to the fact that at that time in the States all the kids were just oohing themselves on quaaludes. So we'd go onstage and start our sets with this number called 'I'm Straight' which would immediately cause all the audience to start throwing things – oh, rotten fruit, bottles, cans, anything – at us."

The Lovers' history was short due firstly to their corporate snooty attitude to playing clubs of the ilk of Max's Kansas City – "We didn't want to be associated with the N.Y. Dolls or this or that...so we never played anywhere" – plus the traumas that followed the band being signed by John Cale to Warner Bros, who after financing an album (produced by Cale – it was finally released last year by Beserkley) decided to drop the band, leaving them penniless in Los Angeles.

Even when the album was being made, Harrison claims there were problems.

"Well this was around the time when Jonathan was starting to want to write and sing only happy songs (laughs). So there'd be continual arguments between Cale and him over how we should sing certain numbers. Cale would be saying 'Now, Jonathon, I want you to sing this in a mean way. And Jonathon would just look at him, y'know – 'Mean? I won't sing mean! I don't feel mean!"

"And he (Richman) kept going through changes of direction. Like one time he'd be totally into the Velvet Underground and early Stooges, and then he was suddenly enamoured with Van Morrison's Astral Weeks and he'd want to alter his whole style. Also he's a total astrology freak. You know that song, 'Astral Plane'? Well he was always having these visions – or so he said – and writing songs about them. Things like....oh God (he starts laughing again) 'I saw you by, the waterway, the waterway, the waterway' – just on and on. We'd have to tell him to forget it."

After the Modern Lovers broke up, Richman briefly went onstage backed only by a bunch of kids beating rolled-up newspapers in time to his songs, before disappearing altogether for a long spell to (according to John Cale) lock himself in his bedroom.

When Harrison is asked whether he feels more comfortable being in Talking Heads than Richman's motley crew he simply sighs, "Infinitely."

MUCH OF the conversation is taken up with the subject of the British New Wave and how the remarkably civilised T. Heads have found themselves having to cope with the more agressive elements at their concerts, particularly as they've been supporting the head-banger's friend, The Ramones.

Seems the atmosphere has never actually soured and that circumstances have been pretty agreeable all the way along.

From the other new wave bands of this country, T. Heads claim not to have incurred any particular animosity.

"Only Rat Scabies has caused a scene," claims Weymouth. "He appeared backstage at the Greyhound in Croydon and tried to get one of us to fight him. When we showed ourselves to be totally disinterested in that course of action, he contented himself with spitting on the floor and walking out. I felt rather sorry for him."

Meanwhile back in New York, the band have yet to break out of the New York club circuit set-up they've been working in for at least the last two years.

A record deal with Sire (whose head, Seymour Stein, is the only executive to have fully committed himself to the New Wave, having also inked The Ramones, Richard Hell, and now, apparently, The Dead Boys, – a Cleveland pastiche of England's punk excesses) has produced the single 'Love Goes To Building On Fire', an addictive though comparatively slight song from the band's repertoire.

A Talking Heads album however is scheduled for September release produced by Tony Bongiovi and with five backing tracks already in the can. Ten tracks are scheduled – all Byrne originals including 'Pyschokiller', 'The Book I Read', 'No Compassion', 'Happy Day', and 'I'm Not In Love', the only unfortunate matter being the probable exclusion of the band's brilliantly terse rendering of Al Green's 'Take Me To The River'.

The band are still a guaranteed sell-out at C.B.G.B.'s on any given night, a not inconsiderable feat as many other similarly prestigious local bands are unable apparently to do the same – and on their own minor league waterfront they've gauged a strong cult audience.

But then there is something extremely addictive about this band's music – potent enough to make Byrne an object of paranoid fear in the eyes of Tom Verlaine (who according to Weymouth is very nervous of Byrne's status on the New York scene – as perverted a compliment as anything that can be divined from Verlaine's psyche one supposes). Meanwhile Byrne is also considered the most singularly brilliant new songwriter currently in the States by John Cale, and even Lou Reed has lent a sizeable quota of suspiciously paternal advice.

Weymouth: "Yeah, I'd say he was actually genuinely trying to help us. I wouldn't say he was trying to rip us off, for example."

Byrne: "That's not true."

Weymouth: "How can you say that, David? I mean..."

Byrne: "Because he told me he ripped some of my ideas off. Not that I'm angry or anything."

How did the...uh gentleman go about this paternal business then?

"God...he'd invite us round to his apartment and insult us for a solid hour, particularly me. He'd always insult the clothes I was wearing, or my shoes. Then after that, he'd start to be more reasonable and actually have an agreeable conversation with us."

Byrne goes silent for a minute and then, for the first time, he seems calm and relaxed.

"Do you want to know...I'll tell you how much we've come on in the last two years, the real symbol of progress in Talking Heads, Now I can go round to Lou Reed's apartment and I can be rude to him!"

#talking heads #articles #david byrne #jerry harrison #tina weymouth #chris frantz #new musical express #nme #1970s

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