#i feel like you can very easily continue this train of thought into the common radfem shit

[localapparently]

/ orv main story ending spoilers , mentions of kdj's suicidal mindset

mindless rambling

my friend who just finished orv asked me why kdj couldn't just split like 2% off of himself into an od avatar and leave that in the train while he joined kimcom, and while my initial reaction was "there's no way he could just do that" I remembered i thought a similar thing when I first read through orv too? and maybe it got explained down the line but I forget things real easy (which is why i'm rereading orv) and so I'm just trying to make sense of it using my existing knowledge

There's this bit in epilogue here:

Sangah's words "protecting the world by dividing himself in half, one becomes the reader, one becomes the character". the first being 51 and the second being 49,

I think there are layers to it. Right after being shaken by the OD ordeal, kdj's mindset that he's to blame for the whole world is reinforced stronger than ever before in his head, because he had just witnessed living proof of it. And that's not something he can overcome just because sp and 999 gang took od away to take care of him. Even then, kdj was confused why they weren't angry.

There's also the persisting mindset kdj has that he's twsa's reader and not a proper part of kimcom, and he probably felt like he should bear the burden of consciously continuing to read the world until the very end. He managed to see himself as part of kimcom over the course of the story but od's appearance sort of undoes all that progress he's ever made, and its sad but its pretty common for self hate mindsets to spiral like that,

He probably felt like he deserved it, yet him wanting that extra 2% difference to prove he knew and loved kimcom more than his avatar. Him regretting splitting in half right after the avatar left and he saw them all walking away. He knows what he wants and in the end he can't bring himself to think that he deserves it

And honestly I don't really know why the way singshong writes kdj's self hate and suicidal tendencies get me so badly, I mean I do, kind of, the feeling is there, but it's incredible how long the set up was and how real it feels when you see it all go downhill.

i think od reveal truly truly fucked up kdj to no repair. like if you read the passages, its fucking heartbreaking.

"My own tragedy couldn't even compare to their pain. The sin of creating an even bigger tragedy because of my own should not be forgiven." "Something was wrong. A blade… I, I needed to find a blade."

and the thing that gets to me is how easily anyone who has had self loathing thoughts can empathise with him. The want to disappear for inconveniencing things that would've been perfectly fine and pretty and happy had you not come into contact with it, the idea that you are a disgusting monster and its easier to shut yourself off than do any more damage. and its Fine if youre in pain because They will be happy and theyll will be happier without you.

It fascinates me how a portion of readers of orv who self blame or self doubt love kdj so much, because the act of loving him is also some form of self reassurance that they can be loved as well, because if someone like kdj can be forgiven, then surely they can, for all their small or big mistakes that are definitely not on the scale of plunging the universe into a space apocalypse. or something.

but i might be assuming so. don't take my word for any of this.

tldr he doesnt split out a small avatar to take the place of od because he thinks he deserves it. which is quite obvious if you take a look at the big picture, and i dont really know why i rambled so long. maybe ill reread orv and theres gona be a small bit that's like "ohh well actually if it was too small of a percentage that became od the universe wont hold up" and i will be like Ah yes i just missed that part. and this ramble will be void. uhh yes. have a nice day

[cramathonn]

Thoughts on Jane and Seth as a couple? And fun headcanons about them if you have any?

Ohoho, heck YEAAAH

I love Jane x Seth, they're so cute

Teasing dom woman and dense af submissive and pure man who she can ABSOLUTELY suplex (he'd let her but not without a fight, would so consider it training)

But like, I had a thought before this one and it was just

"Tom and Jerry but make them humans and Jerry is trans and a dominatrix" – My brain about Jane x Seth

And headcanons about them? Hmm, I think Jane would have a hard time spending time with Seth due to her missions and all, but she would try to make time, absolutely.

Seth would SOOO try to get her to come to his family time weekends. I mean, that's his gf, she's family now so like, family weekends with parents AND hot gf? Sign him up!!!

Seth is also the shyest boyo in the planet. Don't het me wrong, he IS dense as fuck, but once he gets the hint? Oh, he's blushing, oh he's hiding behind his tail and turning around to Jane cannot see his face (she loves seeing him all flushed and shy, that's her recharger, your honor)

I also can see them having sparring dates and training dates. Seth is a very hardworking individual and constantly tries to improve his physical capabilities. Considering that Jane EASILY bested him in their first encounter, he'd obviously want to constantly spar with her like, PLEAAAASE TEACH HIM HOW TO BE NIMBLE ON HIS FEET HE IS BEGGING

NSFW headcanons ahead! So if you're a Minor, please stop here!

Jane if VERY naughty. Like, have you SEEN her trailers??? That woman is the incarnation of Aphrodite AND Dionysus combines (aka she's the incarnation of SEX). So like, she will absolutely go down on Seth. Also, T4T Jane x Seth anyone?

But like, since so many ppl see Jane and Seth as Tom and Jerry, may I offer you transfem Jane, the queen of tucking? Like, Seth had NOOO idea she was trans and when he found out he just found her like, 10x hotter.

Like, imagine your girlfriend, who you know is strong af and sooo fucking cunning, finally tells you she is trans and you just "Omfg my girlfrend is so fucking strong and determined and beautiful and she has such a huge di-"

Seth is a virgin, I'm sorry but that SHOULD be common knowledge between all in the fandom. Like, bro has NO game due to how dense and blunt he is. While Jane has THE game, like, even Belle said she had rizz for fuck's sake! That woman is bisexual hazard in a way that she CAUSES the hazard and is, most possibly, a lot of people's bi awakenings (I just know some poor straight woman is looking at her going like "Wtf, why is she so pretty holy shit I wanna date her" and having to stop and rethink their entire history with sexual and/or romantic attraction)

Either way, Seth is prideful but not in an arrogant way, so I'm having a hard time deciding if he would vehemently deny that he's a virgin or if he would just... Say it. NO WAIT, BETTER OUTCOME. Jane is making out with him and he's so nervous and he has a boner (or his pussy is wet, live your headcanons to the fullest!) and Jane teases him about it and he's so so anxious and nervous and shy and gosh she catches on that it's his first time so quickly and she asks him about it and I can just SEE his ears pressing against his head in shame and him slowly nodding without making eye contact....

Soft first time. Jane is SO caring with him for his first time. Ngl, they probably continue to go soft for the first couple of times before Seth is comfortable with experiencing... But I feel like he would be very vanilla even after experimenting (is also very traditional with the "sex is supposed to be romantic" thought and that almost fucks up his first time until Jane calmed him down through it and just... Told him it doesn't need to be romantic and it can just be a fun and enjoyable activity)

Either way, Jane is kinky af, she was a dominatrix once and you CANNOT take that away from me. She revels when Seth lets her go rough on him and she's like, the queen of aftercare, change my mind

Very healthy couple who respects each other's boundaries. She knows she has to be blunt and very literal with Seth so that he can get things and he kinda appreciates it, since it's not always that people understand his problem with getting social clues or context hints. He hated it at the beginning, thinking Jane was babying him, but he quickly understood that he wouldn't be able to understand her boundaries as well of she didn't do that, so he talked to her that day and thanked her PROFUSELY (they ended up cuddling in bed after that)

[heeszn]

you ain’t my boyfriend ౨ৎ pjs four. thinkin’ bout you

jay anxiously taps at the menu, staring out the window. he arrived ten minutes early and had already ordered for the both of you (he texted you asking what you wanted).

jay likes to think that he was a cool, calm headed guy. he wasn’t the type to get nervous around girls. in fact, he would never bat an eye at girls. that was jaeyun or heeseungs job. and he would never admit this, but you’ve always piqued an interest in the man.

yes he was dating isa, but wherever isa is, you are as well. especially since you’ve been friends with the boys, excluding heeseung, since middle school. he’s always wondered how he’s never talked to or hung out with you before. especially since it seemed like you guys were so connected.

his train of thought was then interrupted by the noise of a bell ringing, signifying someone was entering the café (or leaving). he turns his head to see you standing there, eyes scanning the room to find him. and you do, the quickly ended eye contact was enough for a small smile to creep up onto jays face.

“hi pretty boy” you say, causing blood to rush to jays ears. he lets out a chuckle, “hi yn, you look nice”.

now it’s your turn to smile. “thank you jay, i think you look good as well.” the waiter, seemingly with perfect timing, then comes to give your drinks. the both of you then exchange how your drinks are tasty and that you’d totally order them again.

a beat of silence then follows, before you start the conversation thinking you should just get straight to business. “so, what exactly would i gain from your situation” you ask jay, catching him slightly off guard. he clears his throat, “um, one, it’d help with your jiung situation since he apparently despises me” and he thinks before continuing, “and two, you get a way better looking fake boyfriend”, he says with a toothy grin.

a giggle escapes your lips at his small attempt of a joke. “mmm, alright then”, you turn to your mini purse and pull out a notepad and a pen, “but first let’s lay down some rules”. you and jay thought it was a bit corny to do so, but also a bit necessary. just so that no ones feelings get hurt.

“okay, rule number one, don’t fall in love” you say, to which jay tries to stifle a laugh. “hey, it’s a common rule” you exclaim. “i know, it’s still just a little silly” he laughs out, to which you roll your eyes at.

and you continue on, laughing at each others propositions of what should be a rule. you only end up with the one rule, as the two of you couldn’t make up any other serious ones.

you draw two lines onto the paper, signing your signature before handing it to jay and telling him to do the same on the other line. he smiles at your seriousness of this rule before signing his ‘pjs’ down.

you rip the paper, fold it and place it in the untouched pocket of your mini bag. the only safe place for now.

once again, a pause of silence follows. “so i saw you’re a real fan” you say, eyeing him with a smile.

and so the afternoon continues on, the two of you getting to know each other properly and finding out you share similar hobbies and interests.

you don’t even realize how quickly time goes by until you finally check your phone and see that it’s 7 pm. “god, we should probably start packing up now, i think the waiters hate us for how long we’ve been here” you laugh out. “probably” he says, before helping you grab your things.

the two of you exit the café and before you can get a uber, jay’s already insisting to drive you home. as practice, he claims. and you fold easily, january wasn’t a nice time to be outside at night as the winds pick up and you weren’t in very warming clothing.

the drive seems to go by quick, or maybe that’s because you just can’t stop your conversation with jay. and next thing you know, he’s walking you up to your apartment.

“so, i’ll pick you up at 10 tomorrow” he asks and you reply with a nod. “okay well, i’ll see you then” he smiles. “drive home safely” you reply, to which he gives a thumbs up as he’s already walking away.

that night, you lay in your bed, smiling as you recall tonights events. and little do you know, jay is doing the same.

previous | masterlist | next 🦴 — vee’snotes. SO SORRY FOR YAPPING 😭 anyw soft launch era let’s fucking get itttttt

taglist (open!) @rikisly @txtlyn @jayhoonvroom @mrchweeee @ineedsomezzz @sakuxxi @luvnicho @manooffline @uhsakusa

[tythehedgehogheadcanons]

General Knuckles HCs

Explaining my general thoughts for Knuckles and how I characterize him. I always include a lot of thoughts on the characters, as well as random things they do, their music taste, fashion sense, and all that.

My requests are open, please read the pinned message!

~ I see him as a closed-off guy, all he knows is being tough and being alone. It's hard for him to talk about feelings, so prefers to express himself through violence and yelling. In short; he would rather level a mountain than talk about how lonely he is.

~ I wouldn't say his tough-guy attitude is entirely an act, but there's definitely a part of him that wants to play it up to look cool. In reality, he's just a strong and determined guy who still has a lot to learn.

~ He is uneducated, but not stupid. He may struggle with concepts he didn't have on his island like things taught in school and ESPECIALLY social interaction, but outside of that, he is rather smart. (The fact he still has to hold his hands up to tell left from right does not mean he is stupid!)

~ Say it with me yall; Touch. Starved. He secretly craves physical affection but refuses to admit it. He's gotta keep up the tough guy look damn it!

~ I see Knuckles as a very "I don't have to understand it to accept it" guy. He doesn't try to understand something before he decides if it's good or bad, just accepts it at face value. Someone's trans? Just tell him what they want to be called and he will call them that. This does lead to a lot of pranks being pulled on him though!

~ Knuckles has anger issues he is still learning to control. A lot of small things that don't matter make him really angry, and he often lashes out in anger at times when a fight would only make the situation worse. He is very aware of this issue and is getting better at managing it, but things like teasing are still huge triggers for violent outbursts.

~ Knuckles struggles to ask for help. He swears up and down that he can do it himself when he absolutely cannot and just doesn't want to feel humiliated and ask for help.

~ That being said, Knuckles doesn't like help when he doesn't need it. It makes him feel humiliated and embarrassed that someone helped him when he could have very easily done it himself.

~ If there was a contest for who could give the best "cold shoulder treatment" he would have multiple gold medals.

~ Knuckles isn't an introvert, but not really an extrovert either. He doesn't actively hate or try to avoid other people, but he does tend to stay in areas without many people as it's what he is used to.

~ Knuckles hates small talk. If it's not something he enjoys or something important, he doesn't want to hear about it. He doesn't care about other people's business!

~ Knuckles always looks like he's pissed about something- even when he isn't. He never seems to realize this and always get's confused when people get nervous about his glare.

~ Due to Knuckle's lack of social awareness and social skills, he often stares at people in public, stands in the way, touches and grabs random things that he's curious about, and generally things that are considered rude or annoying. He doesn't mean to be rude, he just has no idea those things aren't very socially acceptable. He is often asked to leave stores after grabbing a bunch of things to mess around with (and very likely breaking them...)

~ Continuing off of that, Knuckles often just walks away when someone is trying to talk to him. If he doesn't want to be there, he will leave with no explanation and you will not stop him.

~ Knuckles doesn't care for being called a 'hero' or receiving praise for doing something small. He appreciates praise as much as anyone, but unlike Sonic, he would prefer to be praised for something like stopping Eggman, not getting a cat out of a tree. It should be common sense to help someone who needs it!

~ Knuckles prefers to spend time outside, either training or just a nice stroll. He has no idea what the appeal of "Movies" or "Social Media" is, and is very confused about how people find entertainment in it. Why fight someone with words on a small rectangle when you can go actually fight them?? (Please do not give him access to twitter.com)

~ Knuckles practices meditation and is often seen in calm or peaceful places with his eyes closed. Knuckles actually joined a local meditation group and considers everyone in that group a friend. He gets very upset when his meditation is interrupted!

~ Knuckles makes friends with some of the most random and strangest people, it honestly concerning. The store owner of a small pawn shop? Knuckles greets them whenever he sees them. A traveling merchant that sells weird and creepy trinkets? They have an inside joke!

~ I don't feel like Knuckles cares for music. He doesn't hate it, but he doesn't really listen to it on his own time- Knuckles prefers the sounds of nature instead! That being said, he DESPISES pop music.

~ Fashion sense! I always love Sonic characters in clothes, so always include this in my headcanons. Knuckles would prefer loose clothes, clothes that show off his muscles and don't get in the way of his movement. He just prefers to wear tank tops and sweatpants or cargo pants. He may wear an athletic jacket on colder days. He prefers white, black, or green clothes to stand out against his Red.

~ He absolutely asked for Amy's help picking clothing colors and begged for her to keep it between the two of them, people can't know he asked for help! He has a reputation!

~ Knuckles still has his old cowboy hat and treats it like his child.

Please reblog this to help me gain publicity, reblogs over likes! Thank you!

And please, comment with whatever thoughts you have. I love to read them all and it gives me a huge motivation boost to keep going! <3

[chxrrylime]

uhm.. so.. i was watching burlesque and had a thought 🌝

listen listen, price w a m!reader who’s kind of his boyfriend but kind of not? like a situationship sort of, whenever price is off duty he goes to reader’s club to watch him dance (lingerie included if you’re comfortable) and they always fuck after, but price is starting to develop feelings, he doesn’t say anything bc he thinks reader won’t share the same feelings little does he know reader actually does, so maybe some smut (bottom reader) and some feelings talk fluff ?? 🧎🏽 much thanks 🫶🏽🫶🏽

As someone who's accidentally said I love you during foreplay it's easier than you think. Also, this is the fit I had in mind when writing this (x) (x).

Price x M!Reader ↪ 1863 words — 18+ / SMUT.

Content tags — cis male submissive (burlesque dancer) reader, cis male dominant Price, referenced/implied prostitution, unsafe sex, minor angst, possessive behavior, love confessions, lingerie, burlesque/brothels, penetrative sex, anal sex, and analingus.

Price weaves through the crowd of sweaty and drunken bodies, eyes trailing after you as you leave the stage. Only when you return to that inky blackness behind the curtain does he train his gaze elsewhere, toward the red-lit hall you’ve led him down the last few times. 

The two of you have done this enough times that it’s almost muscle memory at this point, he doesn’t even have to count the doors anymore to find yours, raising a fist to knock.

The first time he’d ever wandered in here, looking for a drink in more ways than one, he was immediately enraptured by your figure moving about the stage, hips swinging so tantalizingly—watching how easily you moved to the music, the cute little lingerie sets you wore each time accentuating every pretty curve and crevice. 

Price was a simple man, and so he usually preferred the simplicity of a strip club to burlesque shows, but the way you performed had him hooked. None of the other dancers could compare to you, and to Price it was no wonder why you were one of the very few that had their own dressing room.

You open the door and Price drinks you in, a short little silk robe wrapped around your frame. He can see the dark red of your stockings and knows you’re still in the little thong and garter belt you had on stage, the thin black harness hugging your chest.

“John,” you breathe, face lighting up. Price doesn’t want to admit the flutter in his heart each time he comes back from work, sometimes months later, and you still remember his name. He thanks his lucky stars it’s one of the most common ones in the world.

“Invite me in?” He asks.

“Vampire,” you laugh, stepping back to allow him entry. He moves into the room and you close the door behind him, locking it. He looks over your vanity, examining the makeup and jewelry scattered about.

You let your robe slide off and move toward him, placing a gentle hand on his arm as you slip between the table and his solid, warm body. His large hands immediately move to your waist, squeezing you.

“Christ,” he murmurs, taking you in again, like he can never get enough.

“Always the first time with you,” you say softly, teasing, “didn’t you see me on stage?”

“It’s so much more stunning this close, love,” the pet name slips out unbidden, and you blush, your own hands trailing up his sides to his chest, massaging at his pecs and earning a soft little grunt before you continue your journey upward to wrap your arms around his neck. 

He’s the first to lean in, pressing his lips to yours. You hum, immediately trying to deepen the kiss, but he doesn’t budge, kissing you slow and sweet. Indulging himself. His brain always gets so fuzzy when he’s with you—always feels so good just touching you. 

You move your head to kiss the corner of his mouth, and his cheek, his jaw, and he tries to chase your lips, making an annoyed little noise that has you smiling.

He moves instead to kiss at your neck, nuzzling against the soft skin there.

“Getting sweet on me, John?” You joke, and Price tenses. Your brow furrows and you move your hands to his arms, rubbing up and down, “hey, hey, I’m just kidding.”

“Funny,” he responds flatly, gripping your chin with his thumb and forefinger before pulling you into a rough kiss, tonguing into your mouth and making you moan wantonly. When he pulls back there's a string of saliva connecting your lips that snaps as he talks, “this what you want?”

His free hand grips your bulge hard through the soft fabric and you yelp, melting into a moan as he squeezes and gropes at you. You hold his offending arm, using him for leverage to rock into his touch. He watches you with intense eyes.

But something is off, his movements jilted, shoulders drawn up tight like he’s holding himself back from something. You pull his arm off of you and the slightest hint of worry crosses his features.

“You’re upset,” you say softly, running your fingers through his short hair. 

“It’s fine,” he grunts, though his eyes flutter shut, leaning into your gentle touch, “I’m fine,” he repeats, like he’s trying to convince more than you.

“You can talk to me.”

“That’s not what this is,” he says darkly, like a sad admittance. 

“It's whatever you want it to be.”

“S’long as I pay enough, right?” he tries to joke, though it falls flat, smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“I’ve never charged you…” your brow furrows, cupping his cheek. His blue eyes seem a little glassy—faded, and they squeeze shut as he speaks.

“You charge the others,” he grumbles, “I know there’s others.”

He’s jealous, you realize. And then, more suddenly, this… thing, between you two. It means more to him than you had thought. You’d considered yourself a passing fancy to him—a warm and wet hole ready and waiting for him whenever he was on leave. 

“Why do you think that is, John? That I charge the others, and not you?” You try, wanting to say what you feel without words.

“Got a great cock, maybe,” he jokes again, and you can’t help the little chuckle that escapes past your lips.

“Okay, yes, you do. But of course that isn’t why—I mean, fuck, John, there’s so many rules I let you break.”

Price looks at you carefully, like he’s searching for the lie—waiting for the punchline to come where he’s the butt of the joke. Why would you care for someone like him? Some older man bound to the military life that only comes around every few months, if that. You deserve so much more from a lover. A partner.

“I like you,” you finally breathe out, that small weight hovering above your chest now.

“More than you should,” Price says, kissing you. 

He’s gentle again, though now with an insistence, one hand tugging at your harness to arch your back, your chest puffed up against his broad torso. 

You don’t need him to admit anything—you know him. Over the year or so you’ve known him, you’ve learned despite how much he can talk, he’s not a man of emotional words. Things like affection are spoken through action—the steady press of his thigh between your legs, the calloused hand thumbing at your perked nipple.

He speaks through action, and pleasure. Your pleasure. 

He hitches his hands under your thighs, hauling you up onto the counter. You gasp at the show of strength, squeezing his shoulders as he lowers to his knees with a grunt, mouthing wetly at your bulge before trailing down, tugging aside the thong—always so obsessed with keeping them on—to lap at your hole.

You cry out, feeling the thick muscle slip into you, licking hungrily at your insides. Price moans against you, moans like he’s the one feeling it, and the vibrations make you shudder, grabbing a fistful of his hair to rock down onto his mouth, trying to take him deeper.

He stretches you open on his tongue so skillfully, his beard scraping so deliciously against your inner thighs. You can’t help but watch as his own hips rock lazily into the air, mindlessly humping like a mutt. It makes your cock spur, what you do to him.

“John,” you moan, tugging at his hair, “fuck me, please.”

He growls against you, eyes rolling back ever so slightly as he trails back up your body. He pushes you to lay down as much as you can on the cramped surface, sucking and nibbling at your nipples as he fumbles with his jeans, pulling his cock free with a relieved groan. 

He straightens to slap his heavy prick against your thighs a few times, stroking himself. The tip is flushed and sticky from precum, the clear fluid dribbling out and down his shaft, slicking the way for his fist. 

He lines himself up with your hole, rubbing the spongy head against you as he leans in, forehead pressed to yours.

“Tell me the rules,” he says, voice low and gravelly. Your head is spinning, so close to being filled and yet he won’t move, freehand firm on your hip to pin you in place.

“W-what?” You stutter out, blinking blearily at him.

“The rules you have. For your clients,” he growls out the last word, that jealousy flaring in him again. It makes you moan, and he moves to suck bruising marks against your throat.

“I–I,” you choke, swallowing, “condoms. Always.”

He bites down on your neck and slides into you, making you cry out as you stretch to accommodate his girth, the wet heat of your insides so snug around his cock as your walls ripple and flex around him.

“What else?” He whispers, hips beginning a slow but steady pace, ever so slowly increasing in speed as he picks up momentum. He captures your lips with his own before you can speak, licking into your mouth and biting down on your lower lip before pulling away to let you talk.

“No kissing,” you breathe, a dazed smile spreading across your face. He smiles back, kissing you again, hungry and ever so insatiable. 

You push at his chest, urging him to lean back so you can tug at the hem of his shirt. He quickly shucks it off, wrapping his strong arms around you to pull you flush to his body.

His hips start to move faster and with more force, balls slapping against your ass with each thrust, cock ramming into you and making you see stars, punching little ‘ah, ah, ah’s out of you with each movement. 

He trails his lips up your neck, breathing in your scent, taking in everything he can through every sense he has, trying to burn it into his memory like he hasn’t vividly relived everyone of these nights any chance he can get with a hand fisting his cock.

“I love you,” he gushes, the words out of his mouth before he can think, and he keeps saying it, over and over like a prayer, squeezing you so tight against him as he pants against your heated skin.

“Fuck, oh fuck, John m’gonna—” you cry out, back arching, baring down on him as your cock swells and kicks within your thong, cum spurting against the tight fabric. 

Price groans at the vice grip around his dick, having to slow his movements in fear of tearing you with how tight you're clenching down around him. The spasm of your walls milk him, squeezing at the sensitive tip and making him gasp as he suddenly cums, balls drawing up tight as he fills you with his load, hips rutting, stuttering into you.

He shakes ever so gently with the aftershocks, face still hidden against your shoulder as he continues to inhale your intoxicating scent, hands mindlessly smoothing up and down your back as you in turn pet through his hair and at the base of his scalp.

“I love you, too.”

[thathermitweirdo]

The world wasn't what it used to be.

Or maybe it had always been like this.

Cruel.

Brutal.

Unforgiving.

That's what they all have in common, is it not? Suffering. And while everyone has suffered, not everyone handles it in the best manner.

Many have faced the agony and pain at the hands of this unjust world. Some have been subjected to the pain that others inflicted upon them. And while most are able to press forward, to move on as the dust begins to clear, others are incapable. Some are too broken. Too damaged from the burdens they had to face. And at some point, the weight of it all can become unbearable.

I suppose that is where this story takes place. With the broken. Those who were never given the chance at a healthy life. Some are able to use their past to inspire, to strive to do better and help those who suffered like them. Still, there are others who still harbor that pain. That resentment. That anger. And they wish to strike back at the world that hurt them so long ago.

All of them have suffered, and they will continue to suffer until they take their very last breath. But it's what they choose to do with that suffering. It's how they respond. How they cope. How they learn. Some may never recover from their own trauma. From their pain. It will always be a part of them. But they must choose how that part affects them.

Our story started many years ago. Although, that is not where we will begin. We will begin back on that fateful day. That day that marked the beginning of the end. A day in a busy city, bustling with life. The air was thick with noise. The streets packed with people. Just like any other city.

It would have been overwhelming, if not exciting. Exciting for him, at least. A new life to start, leaving behind his very own fragmented past in favor of a fresh start. This wasn't the first time he had left behind his past, mostly due to running away from the ghost that stalks his life. The ghost of his first life. His true life.

That ghost wouldn't find him now. At least, he hoped it wouldn't. There was a reason he joined Watcher Architects, they offered a rather high paying job in a city far, far away. Though, it didn't come without its bittersweet ending.

"You're leaving?" Jimmy asked, watching as the last of his things were packed up into boxes. "You didn't tell me you were leaving!"

He laughed slightly. "Sorry Tim, I thought it would be funny to not tell you until the very end."

"Grian!" Jimmy threw his arms up in frustration. "You cheeky— ugh, I can't believe you would do this to me!"

Rolling his eyes, Grian chuckled as he tried to playfully shove Jimmy off of him. "Come on, I'll be back in Evo for business every now and again. It's where the Watcher HQ is! But Hermitropolis has the best opportunities for me."

"Watcher Architecture Firm still sounds sketchy to me." He grumbled underneath his breath, crossing his arms with a huff.

"Come on. They're one of the biggest architectural firms around. Working with them has been a dream!"

Jimmy sighed. "I know. It's just so far away from here."

"It's like, a five hour train ride." Grian responded blankly.

"Too far." He insisted.

"If you think it's so far then why don't you just move with me?"

"Because I'm not a rich architect like you." Jimmy said while throwing himself dramatically over the apartment sofa.

Grian rolled his eyes, picking up the clear packing tape to seal the last few boxes of his belongings. "I heard Pearl might be moving too. She said she's always liked bigger cities."

"Pearl too?! Why doesn't anyone ever tell me anything!?!"

"Come on, I'll be back and forth between Evo and Hermitropolis for the first couple weeks. It'll be like I never left."

"Until you actually have to leave." Jimmy let out an exasperated sigh.

"I promise we'll keep in touch." Grian said as he sat down on the couch next to his friend. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

Jimmy sighed, much more dramatically this time. “I swear if you get mugged there I will not feel the slightest bit bad. You should just stay here in Evo.”

The city of Evolution had been his home for so many years, despite not truly being a city. It was supposed to be the next big place, hence the name, yet it never really grew out of a town. It was more like a cheap knockoff of a city, really.

Grian just laughed. “I’m not gonna get mugged. Lighten up a bit, Tim. Everything's gonna be okay.”

~•~

The days leading up to the move flew by faster than Grian could have ever expected, before he was standing outside of the train station with all of his closest friends. His boxes had been shipped off to the apartment the Watchers had designated for him, so all the architect had was a backpack filled with more personal belongings.

"I never thought you'd be moving out of town." BigB said while pulling Grian into a hug.

"Seriously man, I mean, I bet you could have gotten some work here instead of having to move hours away." Martyn sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke.

"Come on, this is Grian's dream job." Pearl argued.

"That's easy for you to say! You want to move to the city too!" Jimmy snapped as he wrapped an arm around Grian and pulled him close. "I'm losing my boy! I'm never going to see you again!"

"You can very easily see me again, Timmy." Grian chuckled, "It's just a couple hours by train. Plus I'll be back in town every now and again when I need to come back to Headquarters."

"Guys, guys." A voice spoke up, walking through the small crowd of people that had gathered to wish Grian farewell. "We're gonna make G miss his train. It's not like we're never going to see him again."

"Fashionably late, I suppose?" Grian raised an eyebrow with a smirk, Taurtis laughing in response.

"Oh, you know me. I just had to get my beauty sleep."

"You forgot to set an alarm, didn't you?" Pearl asked blankly.

Taurtis flipped his hair dramatically, placing his hands on his hips. "Yes, I very much forgot."

Grian laughed while rolling his eyes. "Come here." He said, pulling Taurtis into a hug.

After a few moments of the embrace, they eventually pulled away. "Call me before you come back to town. I'm not gonna be late that time, I swear!"

"You better not," Grian joked. "I don't care how much beauty sleep you need!"

"Oh, jeez, Grian!" BigB pointed to the electronic clock above the train schedule on the wall. "You gotta go! The train should be leaving in just a couple of minutes!"

"Oh! Thanks! Sorry guys, I'll call you when I get there!" He said with a wave, rushing off to board the train.

Everyone shouted their goodbyes as they all waved him off, watching as the architect disappeared out of view.

Though little did they know of the danger that he was running away from.

[emmacreatures]

Trying a way out

Back with a follow up on the last story!

Working a few days on this. Feeling a little insecure and this whole week already has been a big bumpy ride with hospital visits and getting all kinds of tests :') So huzzah.. But tonight I managed to write most down that I hope to be happy with.. Especially the last bits i'm very stoked about, but I hope you guys enjoy! Featuring Ka'amxquaritch, lyle and ter'ran in there and a bit more!

As Quaritch followed Ka'am right behind him, he had quickly noticed that Ka'am wasnt showing everything he could. The man could sense despite Ka'am was well at hiding in his surroundings and could easily move around.. He would use some type of animal, but he was walking at this rate.. making him a little suspicious.

The second Quaritch sensed something was off as he was very experienced, he slowed down his pace, as surprisingly, Ka'am was walking rather fast.. Which threw him off. "Whats the rush.." He said rather challenging, making Ka'am glare as he wasnt a fan of how the man spoke to him. Ignoring the fact the man called him out somewhat, Ka'am continued to confidently walk to a specific place, being determined as he already was a step ahead, but Quaritch sensed it.. But at this rate, couldnt exactly sense what would occur.. For Ka'am was rather mysterious to say the least, unlike something he had experienced yet.

Ka'am had sent off his thanator in secret to alert he wasnt coming back alone.. Naraya, who noticed the massive animal approach without Ka'am, made them aware of what he had planned, so they went into the direction the thanator looked at.. being trained so well that he could help him out.. "Its our Olo'eyktan. We need to go to the deeps" She said in navi' for everyone except Ter'ran followed.. Reason was, the man ended up tied up himself mentally. Ka'am didnt trust any of it, and Naraya knew Ka'am would dissapprove, so by that.. She decided Ter'ran shouldnt join them on whatever Ka'am managed to catch this time. Ontop of that.. after noticing he had let Lyle out of his robes.. She personally had put him back.. "Awe common. You're not letting me fight a woman are you?" were his final last words before Naraya showed he should've kept his mouth shut. Having been in some kind of prison at their place, in which she had the keys, she glared at Ter'ran, who she surprisingly hadnt locked up as well. That was Ka'am's decision to make. "You. Stay, and dont move" Naraya said with a low tongue, making Ter'ran glare. "You're not next In command. I am" Ter'ran said as she glared. "But I do not hide secrets from him. You'll pay for it. If you'll try and get yourself out of this with him, I'll personally put an arrow through both your chests" She said threatening before leaving.. Making Ter'ran realize he indeed did not have an army behind him.. He had his love, Lyle, but as soon as Ka'am would be back, he most likely would have to pay for his sins. "Where the hell are they going?" Lyle said as he was sitting on the ground pissed, locked in some special metal container they had made themselves from scraps. He originally thought he could break it.. But the clan knew how to work with it. "The deeps is a specific place we go to, in secret. Its far away from everything else.. Usually a luring place" Ter'ran said without much thought, making Lyle frown. "You mean like a meetup place, or 'we're catching prey' kinda place" Lyle asked pretty damn smart, not being second in command for no reason.. making Ter'ran think it over. "Can be both.." he said, making Lyle sit on his ass in the cell he was stuck. "How long will they be gone for?" Lyle kept thinking on a way to break out, especially since his ego was hurt for the fact a female threw him in the cell he was stuck in.. "Not long enough.." Ter'ran said a sigh.. Looking at the man before he'd look at their entrance, sensing he'd gotten himself in trouble already.

As Ka'am was walking to the deeps upfront, Quaritch still followed, but frowning as he kept eyes around his surroundings. He felt watched again, not nearly as bad as in the beginning when Ka'am stared at him.. But he did have the feeling he wasnt alone.. "I can sense you're not a chatty kinda guy.. But the way you're silent aint so cosy when walking through the woods" the man said a little sarcastic, keeping an eye on him for he noticed Ka'am hadnt said a word for a long while.. Feeling like the man was thinking ten steps ahead, and Quaritch wanted to be on that same level.. "Why should I be talking to a stubborn alien type navi, to lower myself to your kind?" Ka'am started speaking as he could sense his clan was around.. So was his thanator. "Getting comfortable are we now" Quaritch replied rather annoyed, hearing how he spoke to him.. "I'd watch your-" Before Quaritch could say anything, he heard and noticed several Na'vi run up to him, but the man came prepared.. Fighting back as he was about to grab his guns, which was exactly what Ka'am wanted to happen.. to seem the 'hero', he raised his hand, and made one call which made them stop. "Stop" was all he said.. Making some of his clan frown. "But.. Our mighty leader, why should we-" one of his clan members said in na'vi, but Quaritch who had his knife ready in his hand, glared at all of them for his ears twitched, listening as he knew some Na'vi. "Let him follow us, do not hurt him.. He's here to get his 'friend' back" Ka'am said with disgust.. Making Quaritch glare at all of them before they backed off. "Follow us" Ka'am said in english, making Quaritch slowly follow while keeping his eyes out.. 'thats odd.. I felt like it was a trap for me to walk into' Quaritch glared as he thoight along. 'quite a protective clan..' he kept on thinking. It made sense his clan wanted to protect his leader, but why did ka'am himself come out on the first place if his men and women could do it.. thats what he thought. While keeping an eye on everything, he just followed along.. eventually noticing more thicker jungle that he couldnt remember as much as he wanted to.

"Our great leader.. Why arent we taking him down-" "Do not question him.. Cant you learn" Naraya interupted one of the clan members who wanted to ask Ka'am why he was doing what he did.. It was disrespectful to look at it like that.. Making Ka'am rather comfortable to know Naraya knew how to train the others to even respect him more. It were small things, but thats what he appreciated.

Eventually arriving at their secret hideout, Quaritch was guarded by a few, entering the area for he watched around. It was on the inside of a massive tree.. Something of what he saw on screens before, but seeing it in person was something else. Eventually being inside, seeing the structure, which seemed far different than hometree.. He noticed some of the clan members slowly backing off for Ka'am told them to.. "So now what.." Quaritch said a little pissed for being baby sitted all the time, making Ka'am raise his head once in a direction for Quaritch to follow while Ka'am walked behind him slowly, already having made hidden hand signals to get some stronger clan members nearby..

"Colonel-" Lyle immediately called for Quaritch entered the specific room. "Thank christ.. How did you get in here. Where's the rest?" Lyle asked as he was so relieved his leader was around, making Quaritch glare a little. "You had to go out there by yourself.. And look what happened" Quaritch said pissed, making him look at the cell before he sensed Ka'am look at Quaritch again.. "I didnt know i'd be tackled by several navi.. Give this man a break will you" Lyle said with a glare back, despite he was happy to see Quaritch. "Why didnt you get tackled?" Lyle asked for Quaritch turned to Ka'am this time, but before he could say anything, Ka'am only nodded his head once to see five men out of the shadows tackle Quaritch down.. Making him hiss and growl.. "Son of a bitch-" he only said, making Ka'am stand from a distance still "You really thought I'd just let you wander around here in my territory. Not on my watch" Ka'am backstabbed Quaritch just like that for his own good, using him just a little bit for ka'am pointed that he didnt want the man to be in a cell as well just like Lyle.. No.. He wanted the man stuck to a pole, away from Lyle just to be sure.. "So it all was a damn trick huh.. make it seem i could just walk into here, you sparing me when the group arrived." Quaritch said very angry.. groaning as he was tied up very tight.. Making him save his energy by just sitting, stuck with his hands behind his back at the pole.. Yet surprisingly, seeing that Ka'am pointed at Ter'ran, to be tied up as well. "Put him in the cell.." Ka'am said as he didnt even look back at Quaritch, leaving the room for Ter'ran tried to fight his way out of it "NO- Let me explain-" Ter'ran said strong, but despite his beefy structure, there was no way 4 navi men could be stopped by him on his own..

despite Ter'ran and ka'am's past.. He did not tolerate whatever he had done before. It may lessen later on, but for now, as Ter'ran sunk through, he was tied up in a cell, next to his love, but apart.

As some silence and time had passed.. Quaritch finally caught up on remembering what Ka'am said, having focused on everything else but that. "thanks alot Wainfleet" Quaritch said rather threatening for he turned to his cell with his eyes. "care to explain what you fucked around with" the man said as Lyle got offended. "HEY DONT LOOK AT ME. YOU WANT TO BRING THIS UP NOW?! . Not my fault you have a soft spot for them-" Lyle daringly said so, making Quaritch get real angry. "You shut your mouth -" "Speak for yourself." Lyle glared.. Having a good ol' small fight before Lyle was too exhausted after a while despite his ego was immense.. Ending it up by falling asleep in his cell.. For Ter'ran abd him leaned against the same wall from each side.. Having closure in some way.. Making Quaritch attentively watch everything around him for he could easily stay up for hours on end..

Hour after hour, a new clan member would watch everyone, for they'd take turns.. Quaritch glared at each and everyone of them.. Before he realized an entire night passed.. No food, no water had been given, which made Quaritch realize this was a serious business. Being a real prisoner in a.. what seemed different clan than before.. Not part of hometree or the omatikayan.. Letting it sink in while his brain kept on going. After looking down at his watch, hoping the signal would be strong enough for the recoms to find them.. He sighed to notice the odd secret place they were at, was too much under the ground to be able to receive or give signal. Ka'am possibly thought of each thing, and Quaritch seemed to recognize the pattern quite fast. 'great..' he thought for a bit, at first not allowing him to sleep.. But eventually as several hours passed, he felt like he had to. No sunlight came through the place, so the idea of day and night was hard to feel at all... Making everyone feel weaker who wasnt used to staying so in the dark.

Slowly waking up with a groan.. noticing everyone else was still knocked out as well.. He noticed most of his weaponry had sneakily been taken off him.. Possibly when he was too exhausted to even feel anything in his deep sleep. Quaritch almost felt a little offended people had come near to him.. But for now, he had to figure a way to get out..

He sighed deeply before noticing a clan member sat up, having done his turn.. As they almost seemed annoyed they had to watch.. "Why do we have to watch the prisoners all the time.. We usually dont have to this strictly" one said to the other in na'vi, but Quaritch, who had been learning na'vi through time to be ahead of the others, picked up a thing or two. "dont ask me.. If you feel bold enough, ask the leader" the other replied in na'vi, making Quaritch narrow his eyes a bit. Not having had any food or water was starting to hurt a little, but thanks to the navi body, he was able to endure much more than a human could.. Especially in these conditions.. Just as the two navi were being quite daring in what they were speaking off, one of the two suddenly froze to notice ka'am come out of the shadows. Exhaling his green smoke, the other who now had caught up on the fact Ka'am was so close, swallowed and turned to him as well.. "Master.. I-".. Ka'am's eyes spoke sentences at times, glaring at the two. 'Big words on my ways of work. You should be thankful to be here..' his eyes said, for the two already almost begged for mercy. "No food for a week.. May that bestow your loyalty somewhere else." Ka'am said threatening, for he just degraded the two to different work.. But instead of calling a new clan member to sit and watch, he decided to sit there himself for a while.

Walking inside the room, he passed the cells, seeing Ter'ran asleep.. but leaned against the same wall that the alien laid. Raising his head first out of disgust, wanting to pull them apart despite they both were asleep.. and Ter'ran seemed to hold Lyle's hand through the cell bars.. Seeming very attached to say the least. making him glare before sitting down at a rather suitable place for himself. Deciding to not tear them apart.. Which was a surprising move.

Quaritch, who somehow was the first to sense the man's intentions, watched this rather disgusted glare when he got rid of the guards.. and watched how Ter'ran and Lyle showed signs of attachment.. He assumed he'd either wake them and demand them to sit apart, or even pull Ter'ran away, but the colonel noticed a confused , almost surprised stance from Ka'am who almost hissed at it before sitting down. "Seems you do have a bit of empathy" Quaritch decided to risk it all, speaking to Ka'am who immediately turned to Quaritch, with a deadly glare that said it all. "Do you dare to claim what my intentions are. What do you seem to assume what I intend?" The man said rather offended, Smoking some of the powerful stuff as he held it in his hand before putting it to the side, letting the intense smoke go out of his nostrills before standing up. "People must've backstabbed you often" Quaritch said with narrowed eyes, sensing the man has endured pain.. Especially for he saw the big 'glow up' of what he used to be.. Being in someway cocky and daring, he watched Ka'am approach him, as he smoothly pulled out his knife, deciding to kneel infront of the man who was still stuck at a pole, sitting. "I do not need.. Or seek for your sympathy" Ka'am said threatening, pushing the tip of his knife onto the bottom of Quaritch's face, between his neck and chin. "my brother was like that you know. Me being the oldest, hard to be noticed.. Unseen by the greater part" Quaritch said as he felt the tip of the knife now make a slight cut into his skin, pushing it more up. Quaritch almost laughed low, almost out of own disgust too, but his curiosity was too big. This man showed no mercy.. But neither did himself. "So whats your story.. What do you want" Quaritch said as he groaned from the pain of the knife lightly, but it once again did not stop him.

"What made you be shaped like this in a span of 16 years. Do you want to be feared. Seen.. Respected?" Quaritch asked as he gave hints he remembered the man 100% at this rate.. Which threw Ka'am off slightly.. He too felt the tension of that specific detail. "i'd watch your tongue. You think I'd spare you, just because you've seen me once. Why should you make a difference" Ka'am said, speaking more than he'd ever done in the time he's been in this way of behaving.. Meanwhile, Ka'am decided to push the knife even higher up, making Quaritch look up at the man while he left a deeper cut that kept ongoing. "What about your group huh.. I have the feeling respect is what you most desire. They dont serve you the way you'd want do they" Quaritch said as he groaned feeling that dagger stick more and more into his skin. "They fear me. Just like you should, but no one has deserved my respect just yet." Ka'am suddenly said, making a point that Quaritch really was playing with fire.. But the man, sensed something else "Not one.." Quaritch only said, looking at the man with a raised head himself despite the dagger helped.. just as Quaritch said so, Ka'am pulled the knife away.. In a firm movement, while he knew exactly what the man referred to.. The moment Quaritch had let Ka'am go all those years ago, had made Ka'am so curious to the humans. Ontop of that, he did only respect the one man that he hadnt even spoken with, with words. Just eyes.. Even having guarded the area around the old shack and what seemed to have been the man's skeleton.. for no one but himself was allowed to be near it. It was a natural reaction of Ka'am.. And only realized now this specific man so happened to have made an impact on him.

Out of frustration, Ka'am glared before stabbing the wooden pole Quaritch was stuck at, right above his head.. Before silence hit and glared at the colonel.. "Why." Ka'am eventually said, having let go of the knife while it was an inch away from Quaritch's head.. before their eyes just met again. "Why what" Quaritch decided to play the tricky game, while trying to figure out this mysterious man in full detail, having such a close encounter. For Ka'am had a deep silent eye contact with the colonel, he soon realized, despire Quaritch might've had a head start on this.. Like an advantage on the fact he had saved Ka'am.. He noticed the man couldnt even explain himself why he did it, making Ka'am raise his head as he stood up.. Just trying to think on this..

Quaritch in the meantime had picked up that his.. Previous self, inside of the deep woods was protected like sacred grounds, by someone who so happened to stand infront of him. Both of them had preferences and ways they couldnt explain, but of course it was somehow attached to one another.. More deep than one wanted to admit. Quaritch watched Ka'am think.. see what he could do with it, for he himself did too. 'I know you've already given me your respect.. Why else would you defend a place as sacred ground that so happened to be my deathbed.' Quaritch as he looked powerful, thinkinh wisely. "You can gain my respect.. If your approach would be a bit different than what you're attempting right now" Quaritch decided to once again take all risks.. Seeing Ka'am took a while before he turned to him, just knowing his rather complicated mind was swirling around. "It would come a long way, if I wouldnt be stuck here as well" Quaritch said, trying to find a way out of this, but as his defense mechanism was screaming 'get the hell out of this the second you can'.. His curiosity seemed to be bigger, making him doubt himself that if he would get out of this.. Would he leave. Would be attack Ka'am.. Or instead go a different route that he normally wouldnt do as a marine, who was usually chained to his routines.. His orders.

'You think I'm a fool..' Ka'am thought as he watched the man, but now, it seemed the man was almost able to read him. 'No..' Quaritch eyes just said back.. Making Ka'am look up and down at the man's entire eyes and body.. Contemplating what to do.. Especiallt since this somehow hit him very personally.. and hated the fact somehow that there were two others in the same room who could potentially listen.. Quaritch caught up on that.. Noticing how Ka'am for a bit glared at the cells.. "You can chain me up all you want somewhere else.. If that would mean we could continue our conversation, and see where we can meet in the middle." Quaritch said a little as bluff, and see where he could get himself.. For Ka'am watched the cells more before glaring back at Quaritch, who alqays seemed to be.. almost fond of watching those deadly eyes.. After a few minutes of standing, Ka'am narrowed his eyes before pulling the dagger out of the wood that was still above Quaritch' head.. Before he cut open the robes that were holding Quaritch to the pole.. 'If you dare to run away, I will not hesitate to kill you' Ka'am glared with his eyes, seeing Quaritch exhale out of relief for his wrists and arms that had been stuck behind his back for so long.. Before slowly standing up.. Noticing Ka'am eyes who gave the warning, before he even noticed himself and ka'am happened to be on the same height... What more of a match would you think would be possible. 'move.' Ka'am said in a gesture, watching Quaritch walk infront of him now as the man said where to go.. Keeping a continous eye on him.. Before Quaritch seemed to be guarded to a different room.. It seemed personal of Ka'am, but he didnt say a word yet. All he could possibly guess it by, was the scent of that powerful smoke he has seen him take. As bad as it was for some, Quaritch himself used to smoke often.. And somehow this very intriguing and possible dangerous stuff for most seemed to have attracted his curiosity even more. most navi wouldnt be able to take it, or had to get used to it for a while.. But Quaritch, by the scent alone was drawn by it. Especially the mix of Ka'am's scent and the smoke, it was the first thing in a long while that kept lingering...

TO BE CONTINUED-

[youcanseethecosmos]

Ive been lurking on and off the dreamling tags here and there and I happened to find your actor AU as I am a sucker for the actors AU myself though I wouldnt label myself a kino. Some idk ideas to throw if youre up for it. For the endless being clasically trained, is it of the Julliard kind or the RADA/LAMDA/Vauxhall kind? I admit my knowledge to this is limited, apologies. You also mentioned in one of your HC list that Hob's shot to fame was from a film that premiered in Sundance (let's fucking gooo)and that he has the timeless look, do you think Hob would attend Venezia and unknowingly pulls a Paul Newman in the photos? From your characterisation of Hob, I had gleaned that he isn't so ingrained in the kind of films that Dream may have been exposed to early on, perhaps Hob may have had an odd feelings with French New Wave, but is tolerant to Varda, and holds a huge respect to the works of Scorsese and his World Cinema Project.

Hi! Wow genuinely a lot of the things you asked aren't things I thought too hard on.

When I say that the endless are classically trained, it's however you see it as!

What I do know is that at least to me (so take all of this with a grain of salt!) the best actors have done classic theater. Actors who have brought life to scripts of old and the most notable is, of course, Shakespeare. You see British actors specifically always have to go through at least one Shakespeare adaptation or play. Similarly, British actors more often than not have done at least one regency era film.

Again, my knowledge on this is hazy and I'm going off what I have observed. I have not thought about what schools they've gone to or institutions they're trained in. I was an acting major but I didn't continue past college. However, Dream probably went to the same schools Tom Sturridge went to irl. So make of that what you will.

In terms of the Hob sundance film, I didn't specifically say That was his shot to fame. It just happened to be one of the notable films he's done in his short career so far! I hope that cleared it up a bit haha

Also yes Hob is pretty much a normie in terms of the film and cinephile community. What he knows of Film is whatever Destiny taught in his lectures. And Hob didn't grow up with the privileges The Endless had, he was a common man. So he watched whatever movies were playing in the old theater in the town where he lived. And not often. He doesn't get psyched up about directors and producers. He just likes what he likes. He's very simple like that.

But what Hob is totally passionate about is literature. He loves novels, short stories, manga, comic books, plays, poems, and even fan fiction! He likes reading, probably more than Dream (and has most likely encountered the books Dream wrote under his pseudonym at one point). Even with his ire for Shakespeare, he's read all his plays. One thing you can always count about Hob is that he's a sponge. When he reads something, he retains it easily. That's why he's also really good at memorizing scripts.

Anyway, this got long but thank you so much for asking! Gives me opportunity to flesh out the characters more. Hope you have a lovely day!

[emilyalbrecht]

"Hm… How curious. It seems you and I share that much in common, then. The full moon changes our disposition quite drastically, which would make two of us. At least you're finally being honest with me now. I know you wouldn't dare deceive a Vampire of my caliber."

When Emily explained about how the Sirena consisted of females only, Ruki couldn't help but raise a brow in suspicion, deep cobalt hues slightly widened from the prospect of how they might reproduce as a race. That made her purpose for surfacing to the land, and thus visiting Kaminashi, surprisingly more straightforward than he had anticipated, yet he also found it interesting how she opted for less vicious means of securing a mate.

"Oh? Taking your sweet time here in Ryotei Academy is very optimistic of you, and that's putting it lightly. I wonder how your kind would feel, knowing that you'd entangle yourself with humans to sate your own musings rather than continue your lineage," he scoffed at the very thought of it, deeming mortals as no better than demons in the realm of lies and feigned loyalty. "Go ahead and try to learn more, but even so… I doubt you'll find what you're searching for with them. Not only are they cunning, but they're manipulative in regards to the romance you've cleared idolized given your taste in literature."

Bitter contempt washed over the Vampire's face for a brief moment, indicative of his scorn towards the race of his birth—though he would never reveal that to just anyone. Through and through, he considered himself a full-fledged demon despite his impure blood, forsaking every shred of atrocity and suffering of his days as a human. For someone like Ruki, he failed to fathom why a surreptitious kind such as the Sirena would waste their time longer than necessary above the waves.

"This arrangement may or may not work out for you and I, Emily. I just so happen to be in need of fresh prey ripe for the picking, and it looks like you would last longer in my care than any average mortal would. And, in return…" a sinister glint sparked in his eyes once more, "while I'm not promising to help you birth any progeny any time in the foreseeable future, I can show you what it's like to survive in this world. To learn more about their ways… and how they will eventually disappoint and betray you, so much so that you cannot help but return to the ocean from whence you came. Not that I would allow that so easily, though. Especially when I look forward to sucking your blood again."

Another chuckle escaped his lips as Emily tried to deny his accusations, even if he likened her to little more than livestock right now.

"Now, now. Defy me all you want, but your actions will have consequences. From now on you shall address me as 'Master' or simply 'Ruki' in public view, is that understood?" Using the back of his palm, he wiped away some excess blood from the crimson-stained corners of his mouth, her fear mixed with arousal still embedded in the very scent of it. "I won’t punish you this time since you’re still learning."

Although he half expected her to decline his offer and try to make a futile run for it, her reluctant acceptance to his terms ignited an inexplicable flame too engulfing to ignore in his sadistic heart. Finally, he backed away a partial step, allowing her at least a second or two of breathing room while still impeding on her personal space.

"Good… That's a very smart decision on your part. Now, come along. We have a lot to get done today, as you still have much to learn—and much to be trained on."

As dawn gave way to morning, Ruki forcefully took the young woman by the hand and they descended down the stairs, exiting the academy for the day. In order to avoid being seen by others, the Vampire ultimately decided to summon several familiars leading a mysterious limousine in which they were the sole passengers. Along the way to the Mukami manor, much frondescence and greenery stretched as far as the eye could see when looking out the window. Furthermore, the cityscape revealed to them a panoply of convenience stores and shopping districts switching their glowing signs from 'closed' to 'open' to start a new business day.

Eventually, the vehicle closed in on a private paved road leading to an ornate mansion with several stories in certain towers of the stone-clad building. Parked in front of a moderately sized fountain, the car came to a halt, allowing the two to step out and finally head indoors.

"Well, we're here. Don't get the wrong idea, though. We may be a family of Vampires, but the sunlight can hardly subdue us, much less restrict our schedule. If you think you can flee during my slumber, then you'd be sorely mistaken. Anything you might require will most likely already be stored in our home somewhere. As for things like clothes, toiletries, and other items typically reserved for a woman... Just let me know and we can go out to buy it together. Any good master should care for his livestock, after all."

Once inside, an elongated hallway full of antiquities and abstract paintings, providing route to an even larger living room, came to view. Each piece of furniture from decades past donned a stylish monochromatic color scheme befitting that of a Vampire and his siblings, from the upholstered armchairs to the suspended chandelier in every room. Allowing Emily only but a moment to adjust to her new surroundings, the Vampire brewed some hot raspberry tea in the meantime, his tray holding two beautifully crafted cups for the both of them. From his calm demeanor about abducting a rather promising girl he just met, one might assume it wasn't his first time executing such an elaborate yet vile scheme.

"Drink up; you must be thirsty yourself. I'll show you to your room once you've calmed down a bit. As for my brothers living here, if you happen to encounter them... They are Vampires as well, naturally. Thus you'd do well to stay by my side until they're caught up to speed."

🧩 Hello there Admin, I hope you don't mind me sending the continuation of our thread here. The other one was getting a little lengthy, so I decided to send you a starter this time around. ^^ Hope you're doing well and having a great day, and do let me know if Ruki is going too far with Emily, ahaha. 🧩

Emily was curious about what the full moon did to vampires now, she had a feeling it wouldn’t be something to look forward to though.

She watched as Ruki seemed suspicious when she said that Sirena’s were only females, how did their race even come into existence without men in the first place? Even she didn't know the answer to that.

“Well, I'm not sure if my kind would really care, my.....umm family?” Emily wasn't sure if that was the right word that people used to explain blood relations. Would you really call someone your family if you couldn't even remember what they looked like? “My family in particular tends to mind their own business, I'm not sure about other Sirena though. But if they did care, perhaps they should worry about finding a mate themselves instead of worrying about me.”

As Ruki talked about humans, it was clear that he didn't like them very much, she wondered why. Had something happened? She could see it in his face, he obviously held some sort of grudge or something.

At first, she was happy that he said he'd show her how to survive here, however, she frowned a little as he said the humans she wanted so much to learn about would disappoint her. “Why do you hate humans so much?” She questioned. “Even if something happened, you know not every person is the same right?” she asked, she felt like it was wrong to hold a grudge against everyone for only a few people's wrongdoings.

“I highly doubt humans can be so bad it'll make me want to flee back to the ocean.” Emily didn't like it when he said that he wouldn't allow her to leave so easily anyways. He really was demanding, she was starting to think his nickname of ‘Master’ suited him well. Not that she would be calling him that anytime soon, or ever. At least she thought she wouldn't, but now he was basically demanding her to call him that, unless in they were in public.

When he asked if she understood she wanted to flat out say no, did he really expect her to call him that? It was embarrassing, her cheeks heated at the thought. “Yes, I understand.” She said simply not wanting to argue. She watched as Ruki wiped away the blood on the corners of his mouth, she shuddered, slightly turned on by it for some reason.

“Punish me?” Emily blinked in confusion and tried to think of what the word meant, she was still sort of learning, and some words she had never heard before. “What does that mean?”

Emily wasn't sure if she had made the right decision, but even so, she was pretty sure she couldn't back out now. If it had been a decision at all, given his strength he could have very well just taken her by force. When Ruki backed up slightly she sighed a bit relieved to have some space back, but she tried not to make it too obvious.

Once Ruki started walking she felt him grab her hand rather forcefully, she followed as he descended down the stairs. As they got to the limo it seemed rather odd, who was even driving it? But she decided not to ask and got in with him. During the trip, she looked out the window to observe her surroundings, she thought it would be smart to pay attention just in case. She watched as the city was beginning to awaken now with the sun rising.

While looking out she soon saw the manor in view, she was quite surprised and thought it was a bit ironic that a vampire lived in a manor, the thought made her smile. In the stories she read about vampires, they were all quite wealthy. When the limo stopped Emily hopped out after Ruki, she was amazed by the water fountain and how huge the manor looked closer up.

“I just got here and you already think I'm going to try and escape? I haven't even come up with a plan yet, but don't worry I will eventually.” Emily said sarcasm dripping from her mouth.

“So sunlight won't harm you? What about Garlic and all that other stuff in stories?” She was generally curious, she had thought that garlic seemed to be a dumb weakness, but she didn't think it was true. Perhaps garlic smelled bad to them though if there was too much since they had better senses than humans, but other than that she didn't believe that garlic could be a real weakness.

Emily looked down at her clothes, she would definitely need some more, she had put clothes in a bag, but unfortunately, she had left the bag at school. She remembered when she had first arrived, she figured out the hard way that humans don't take well to nudity, she still didn't know why they got so flustered about something so normal. “Okay, umm, thank you.” Emily smiled a little, at least he was nice enough to make sure she had everything she needed. Even though she knew he was only doing this because she was his blood source now and because he was curious about her race.

When walking inside the manor Emily’s eyes wandered taking everything in, the place was huge, and she had a feeling that she'd end up getting lost inside here just like in the school. “This place is huge,” she mumbled to herself.

After a few minutes she smelled hot tea brewing, and the fruity smell filled up the room. Emily looked at the gorgeous cups, she liked the designs on them, and she figured they were probably expensive. When he told her to drink up she waited a minute, wasn't there a specific way to handle cups like these? She definitely didn't want to accidentally drop it, but once Ruki started to drink from his she observed him. After a few moments, she copied the way he had held it and took a sip. Despite her awful sense of direction and getting lost easily, she was a very fast learner. Her eyes lit up almost immediately as she took a sip, it was delicious, the warmth of the drink was very relaxing, and the hints of raspberry tasted sweet and delicious.

However, her relaxed state didn't last long as he mentioned his brothers, she did recall him saying something about family living here. She didn’t like the sound of being around more than one vampire, she was definitely going to heed his warning and stick close to him for now. Emily couldn't help but feel a bit jealous though, she wondered what it would be like to have a family that lived together. “Do you and your brothers get along?” She asked curiously.

(Hello, I don’t mind at all, it was getting pretty long. I hope your doing good as well! Sorry if my replies are so lengthy , I tend to go a bit overboard sometimes when I get creative. I’m really enjoying this interaction so far, and I know I’ve already said it, but the way you portray Ruki is amazing! You’re such a good writer! 😊)

[the-bau-quinjet]

One Misunderstanding

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You struggle to fix Bucky's first impression of you. Bucky struggles with his own feelings.

Warnings: angst, Hydra things- like brainwashing and torture, a few curse words, panic attacks, anxiety

Word count: 5609

a/n: this idea came to me very suddenly, but I'm in love with it. Hopefully whatever I just wrote does it justice.

Masterlist

"Everyone, meet Y/N. She's the newest member of our little group, bringing in a whole new level of hacking and tech skills. Y/N, meet the team." Tony introduced you to everyone, eager to share your skills.

You turned to the group, getting ready to introduce yourself further, but instead tripped. You shrieked as you fell down the small set of stairs you were at the top of.

Sam, being the closest, caught you. "Good thing you've got tech skills." He chuckled as you righted yourself, firmly planting your feet on the ground.

"Haha, yeah. I'm not a big fan of violence." You winced as you said it, wishing you could take it back. You didn't want to get into the reasons as to why you don't like violence.

To your surprise, nobody asked why. You would have guessed they would have questions, but maybe they weren't interested in your past. They all had their own issues to deal with afterall.

"Eh, we don't need anymore people for fighting anyway. Welcome to the team." Steve greeted you warmly, as you would have expected from America's golden boy.

You gratefully shook his hand, glad to not have to talk about anything yet. Unfortunately, you tripped again when you tried to move back, falling into the one and only Bucky Barnes.

His hands steadied you, dryly laughing at your clumsiness. "You really are clumsy."

You did you best to not show how embarrassed you were. You couldn't deny the claim. Unless you were fighting, something you vowed to yourself to never do again, you were clumsy.

Being abducted and tortured by Hydra may have made you a competent fighter, but your aptitude for tripping over nothing never left.

"Right, sorry!" You greeted everyone else quickly, eager to get situated in your room. "I'm just going to unpack everything." You waved as you backed out of the room, bumping into the wall as you left.

-

You had just finished putting away your stuff when you heard a knock on your door.

"Come in!" You figured someone would have questions for you.

Unsurprisingly, Natasha was the one to step into your room. Of everyone there, you expected her to have learned about your past. It comes with the territory of being a spy.

"Hi, I was hoping to talk to you." Her tone was friendly, but clearly she was skeptical of you. Again, you weren't surprised.

"I thought you might. I'm assuming you read my file? Honestly, I thought everyone would." You laughed gently, shaking your head at yourself.

"I did. Your file is pretty bare bones though. I did some extra digging... Not everyone else is as nosy as me." She grinned, already pleased with your openness. "So, why'd you pretend to be clumsy?"

"Oh, it wasn't pretend. I've always been clumsy. When everything happened, and I learned how to fight, I thought my newfound agility would help. Turns out, it didn't. The only times I'm even the slightest bit coordinated are when I'm fighting or training, but I wasn't lying about that either. When I escaped, I promised myself I wouldn't hurt anyone else."

"Why join the Avengers at all then?" She looked curious, still unsure if she could trust you.

"I wanted to help people. I just didn't want to use the skills they gave me to do it. So, I learned how to code, figured I could help behind the scenes."

She smiled, letting down her guard. Clearly it would take some time, but you could easily see the two of you being close friends.

"So, nobody knows about what you went through?" She couldn't help but be curious about your past.

"Nope. I don't talk about it much, but it's not a secret. I'll answer anything you want to know." You smiled, eager to try and make a real friend here.

You spent the next few hours answering every question Natasha could think of. You told her about being abducted and experimented on.

That lead to even more questions, basically boiling down to the fact that you're not a super soldier, but you do have enhanced senses- and seemingly enhanced clumsiness for when you're not using them.

You told her about learning how to fight, and the punishments you would endure if you got it wrong. The two of you bonded over the shared experience.

Finally, you told her about how you escaped. When the Winter Soldier escaped, every Hydra effort possible was made to find him. That included you. Resources were spread thin, trying to cover more areas. It was the perfect opportunity for you to get out.

"Really, I owe my freedom to him. Even if he doesn't know anything about me." You felt the tears in your eyes, too many emotions swirling through you to keep it all in anymore. "Since then, I've learned everything I could about technology and coding, which pretty much brings you up to date."

Before she could ask anymore questions, there was another knock on your door. Quickly wiping the tears from your eyes, you called another "come in!"

Steve poked his head in the door, cautiously looking between you and Nat.

"I've been sent to stop the interrogation." He grinned, stepping farther into the room.

Nat rose from her spot on the bed, kissing him on the cheek while rolling her eyes. "It wasn't an interrogation. We were bonding."

"Yeah, over what?" He chuckled, trying to figure out what the two of you had in common.

Maybe it was the look in your eyes, or maybe Nat just likes knowing more than everyone, but she smiled conspiratorially at you before responding. "Girl stuff, babe. Just girl stuff."

You smiled as the couple left the room, grateful for not having to explain everything again.

-

Over the next few weeks, the team constantly teased you for your clumsiness. Well, not the whole team. Nat knew the truth, so she never said anything. Peter never teased you either, although that is likely due to the teasing he endures as well.

Weirdly enough, you bonded with the kid over it, eventually telling him about your past as well.

Normally you could shake it off. They clearly didn't mean anything by it. Except Bucky.

Whenever he said anything, he stared you down. His eyes felt like they were piercing your soul. You're not sure exactly why, but he didn't seem to like you much.

Which wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have an embarrassing crush on the man.

Really your infatuation started when you first escaped Hydra. His own escape lead to your freedom, so you admired him. When you found out he was working with the Avengers to help people, you admired him even more.

Watching him on missions is really what caused the infatuation to blossom into a full blown crush.

You, however, would adamantly deny that if anyone ever asked. Which is what just happened.

"What?!" You nearly tripped, again, with how quickly you turned to look at Wanda and Nat.

"You heard me." Nat stared at you, a neutral expression on her face. "When are you going to do something about your crush on Barnes."

"I, I don't- I don't have a crush on Bucky." You stuttered, a lackluster job at denying the truth.

"Please, Y/N. It's so obvious!" Wanda joined in.

The three of you hung out a lot around the compound. It was nice to have a support system to lean on when things got hard.

"Well, even if I did, which I'm not saying I do! He doesn't like me. I don't know what I did, but his eyes feel like daggers whenever we're in the same room." You started out strong, but quickly morphed into a sad resignation. It genuinely upset you that Bucky didn't like you.

"I think I might know what that's about..." Wanda bit her lip, immediately feeling guilty at having said anything.

"What!?" You eagerly turned to her, needing answers. You shuffled your way across the room, never fully rising from your seat on the ground.

"I don't know if I should tell you! I'm not even supposed to know, but sometimes his thoughts are really loud!" Her guilt multiplied.

"You have to tell me now! Then I can fix it!" You were practically begging at her feet from your position on the floor.

She looked at Nat, who just shrugged in return. "Not my place, although I would love to hear it."

"Ugh, fine. But you can't tell anyone I told you!" Wanda glared at the two of you, unable to say no to your pouting face. "The first day we all met you, do you remember what you said?"

Your face scrunched as you tried to remember. "I'm not a big fan of violence?"

She nodded, looking at you as if she just told you everything.

"So?" You asked incredulously, unable to follow her train of thought.

She rolled her eyes, having to spell it out for you. "He kind of took that personally..."

Immediately, you sunk completely to the floor. "Oh, god. Fuck! That's not what I meant at all! I just meant I don't personally like using violence! Shit, shit, shit." You continued to mutter to yourself as Nat and Wanda shared a look.

"Why don't you like using violence?" Wanda asked, intrigued by your reaction.

You thought back to your conversation with Nat the first day you got here. You told her it wasn't a secret, it just wasn't something you brought up.

"Can you just look in my head? I don't really wanna explain it, but I want you to know." You asked, glad to share you past with another friend.

Wanda nodded, seemingly doing nothing until realization dawned on her.

"Oh shit." She whispered, not even realizing she said it out loud.

"Yeah." You huffed out a dry laugh.

"Y/N... I'm so sorry." You smiled at her, having worked through most of the trauma already. "You totally have a crush on Barnes though."

That earned a real laugh. "Hey, that's not what you were in there for!"

"It's not my fault! You were thinking it really loudly!"

The three of you laughed together until you sunk back into a pit of despair.

"What do I do? How do I fix this?" You whined, laying back on the ground like a child.

"I think you just need to talk to him. Explain what you meant." Wanda shrugged, unsure of any other advice to offer you.

"She's right. Just talk to him." Nat nodded along as you whined on the floor.

-

After a few days, you finally worked up enough courage to try and talk to Bucky. He had just finished training, so you knew exactly where he'd be: in the kitchen.

Walking in, you were glad to see him pulling ingredients from the fridge.

"Hey Bucky, can I, um, talk to you for a minute?" You stuttered through the words, nervous about what he would say.

He barely looked at you, nodding his head for you to continue.

"I just, I wanted to apologize." You trailed off when his head snapped up.

"For what?" Well shit. How are you supposed to explain this one without ratting out Wanda.

"Oh, well, um... I just thought maybe I said- I did something that upset you. Uh, you just don't seem to like me very much, which is totally cool, you don't have to like me if you don't want to. I just didn't want it to be my fault... Fuck." That went horribly. Taking a deep breath, you started over. "I didn't mean it."

Bucky is looking at you like you have three heads. "Didn't mean what?"

"That I don't like violence."

"So you do... like violence." He'd somehow grown more confused.

"Well, no." You paused, unsure of how to explain yourself.

"Then you did mean it." His soul piercing stare is back.

"I-"

"It's fine, save it. Some people get to choose not to be violent." And with that, he left the kitchen, abandoning his post workout smoothie.

You stared at the doorway, in shock over how poorly that went. You stood there , unaware of the 25 minutes that had passed, trying to figure out how it could've gone better when Steve found you.

"Y/N? What are you doing?"

You didn't hear him, too lost in the memories. Memories of Hydra, forcing you to do things you never wanted to. This happened from time to time if something triggered you into remembering, otherwise you had a handle on your emotions.

"Y/N?" Steve said your name again, concern evident in his voice. He gently laid a hand on your shoulder, trying to get your attention.

Everything happened so fast after that. The feeling of someone's hand on your shoulder caused you to panic. With all the memories of Hydra in your head, your training kicked in instinctually.

You grabbed Steve's arm, pulling him closer to you for better leverage. Before he could question your moves, you flipped him, pinning him to the ground.

The second you made eye contact, you realized what just happened. Horror and regret flashed in your eyes.

In an effort to get off him, you threw yourself backward, knocking into a cart full of pots and pans. The clanging of metal hitting the ground echoed through the small room.

Steve sat up slowly, trying to register the turn of events. You sat in a ball on the floor, tears pooling in your eyes, mumbling apologies over and over again.

Sam, having heard the commotion from the pots and pans, ran into the kitchen ready to fight.

"What- What happened?" He asked in confusion, lowering his arms from their defensive position.

"I don't know." Steve looked at you, still trying to figure it out.

"Y/N?" Sam's voice was gentle, but it still startled you.

You jumped from the ground, rushing to help Steve get up. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to. I never wanted to hurt anyone again." Your breathing was picking up, short bursts of air leaving your lungs. Your hands were shaking as you pulled him from the ground.

Your panic increased as you took in their concerned expressions.

"Hey, look at me." Steve's Captain voice, came out, urging you to make eye contact. You followed orders, breathing rapidly, your whole body shaking.

"I'm going to touch you now, is that okay?" His words were gentle, but commanding, causing you to nod in response.

He pulled you into a tight hug, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You wanted to explain, to tell them what happened, but all that came out was a pitiful "Bucky".

"Do you want me to get Bucky?" Sam asked, trying to understand you.

The idea of Bucky coming back caused your panic to increase. You shook your head rapidly, "No! No no no no no." You kept repeating the word, shaking in Steve's arms.

"Okay! Okay, no Bucky." Sam reassured you, voice calm and soothing.

You’re not sure how long you stood like that. Sam moved around the kitchen, cleaning up the pots and pans you had knocked over.

When your breathing steadied, Steve asked, "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

You nodded, leading the two men to the couch in the adjacent common area. You sat for a minute, unsure of where to start.

"Why don't you just lead us through it all?" Steve suggested, still rubbing your back.

You nodded, grateful for the starting point. "I went to the kitchen to apologize to Bucky."

"What for?" Sam interrupted, already confused.

"Sam! Just let her talk." Steve muttered, slightly annoyed.

"Sorry!" He glared back at Steve before turning to you, "Sorry, please continue."

You couldn't help but laugh at their banter.

"Right, I wanted to apologize for what I said the first day I met you all. I realized how it sounded, so I wanted to try and fix it." You paused, waiting for the recognition to hit them.

It didn't take long. The two men nodded, silently urging you to continue.

"Honestly, Wanda told me that was why he always seems mad at me. You have to know, I never meant for it to come across that way! It's more of a personal, 'I don't want to be violent' than shunning others for doing what's necessary." You took a deep breath, not eager to relive the conversation.

"Anyway, I told him I didn't mean it. I just couldn't explain it right, and he got upset, which makes sense!" You turned to look between them, not wanting them to think you were insulting Bucky in any way. "I don't hold what he did against him. It wasn't his choice, and I completely understand that. I just couldn't put that into words when I was talking to him, and I made everything worse."

Tears popped into your eyes again, upset at what he must be going through. You weren't with Hydra for but a tenth of the time he was, and you didn't endure the same level of brainwashing.

"He said something about some people not being able to choose not to be violent, and then he left. I don't know how long I was standing in the kitchen replaying the conversation, but it brought up bad memories for me." You sighed again, working up the nerve to tell them everything.

"Wanda and Nat already know, but I guess it's your guys's turn. This was so much easier to just have Wanda read my mind." You laughed at your own joke, the two men sharing a concerned look.

"I was taken... by Hydra. They experimented on me, gave me enhanced senses, trained me to fight, and punished me when I did something wrong." Again, tears sprung into your eyes, occasionally falling down your cheeks.

"Why wasn't this in your file?" Steve questioned, more to himself than you.

"I haven't got a clue. I guess nobody knew about me? But, I escaped. They didn't brainwash me like they did Bucky, because I don't have the serum. Or, at least, I think that's why." You shook your head, refocusing on the important parts.

"When every available Hydra agent was tasked with searching for the Winter Soldier, I took it as on opportunity. Their resources were spread thin. I was able to getaway."

You went onto explain your reasoning for joining the Avengers as a tech specialist, trying to convey the same earnestness you did with Nat.

"You can ask Nat or Wanda too. Nat found out day one, Wanda a few days ago." You wiped your tears, hoping they believed you. "Actually, Peter knows too."

"I was stuck in all those memories when you came into the kitchen. I didn't even register that you were in the room, so when you touched me I freaked out. I never meant to hurt you!"

You looked at Steve fearful that he would be upset.

"Y/N, I believe you." You cried tears of relief at his statement, genuinely exhausted from the day. "It's not your fault, and you didn't hurt me. Just caught me off guard. You're surprisingly agile when you want to be." He tried to lighten the mood, glad to hear you laugh.

"Well, I train in the middle of the night sometimes. I- I want to be able to get out if I'm ever forced back there." Your voice was quiet, admitting a secret you hadn't even told Nat.

"We won't let that happen." The sternness of Sam's voice surprised you.

"Thank you." You wiped your tears a final time, looking between the two men. "Now, what do I do about Bucky?" You refocused your energy on fixing your relationship with the super soldier.

"He never would have said what he said if he had known." Steve started the conversation, defending his friend.

"I know. I don't hold it against him, I just wish I could explain. I get so nervous when he looks at me like that." You rambled, too tired to filter your thoughts.

"Like what?" Sam asked, eager for more information to tease Bucky with.

"Huh? Oh, I don't know. Like he can see into my soul." You deadpanned, earning a laugh from both men. "I just want him to like me." You nearly whined, upset by your poor relationship.

"Like you, huh?" Steve grinned. Nat and Wanda chose that exact moment to walk into the room, eagerly joining the conversation.

"Barnes? Did you tell him how you feel?" Wanda squealed with excitement.

You buried your head in your hands, avoiding the knowing looks the four of them were surely sharing. "Not exactly." You gestured to your head, hoping Wanda would figure it out and share with Nat.

"Ooh... It didn't go well, basically Barnes got upset, Y/N flipped Steve and had a panic attack, then told these two everything." Wanda explained to Nat quickly, trying not to make you relive it.

"We need a plan." Nat declared.

"No, I just need to learn how to have a conversation with the man." You rolled your eyes at yourself. "I'll try talking to him again." You went to leave the room, turning around to glare at them. "And none of you can say a word of this to Bucky."

-

Despite you request, Steve still tried to talk to Bucky.

"What's up with you?" Steve questioned, trying to subtly pry into Bucky's thoughts.

"Nothing. Why?" Bucky answered in a questioning tone, trying to figure out Steve's motives.

"I heard you talked to Y/N is all. How'd it go?" He gave up on the subtle approach pretty quickly, knowing Bucky wouldn't answer a question that wasn't asked.

"How did you even hear that, punk?" Bucky deflected.

"Not the point. Answer the question."

"Not great. I messed it up." Bucky sighed, annoyed at himself for barging out of the room. "She said wanted to apologize, that she didn't mean what she said." He ran his hands through his hair, struggling to explain where it all went wrong.

"Would've been fine if I could follow what she was saying. She was rambling about me not liking her, which you and I both know isn't true. Ugh, i've never been mad at her. I'm mad at myself! At Hydra for making me a monster! How could she ever like me if she doesn't like violence? My entire past is violent." He huffed, having worked himself up again.

"You're not a monster, Buck." Steve started gently.

"I know you think that." Steve gave him a pointed glare. "I know, okay? But what does she think?"

"Maybe you should try talking to her. You might be surprised by what you learn." Steve clapped him on the shoulder, trying to reassure him, before leaving the room.

-

Everytime you tried to talk to Bucky, something got in the way. The first time, he was called in for an emergency mission before you even got the word hello out.

The second time, Tony walked into the common area, completely oblivious to the tension, and put on a movie.

The third time, Steve and Nat interrupted you. You were just about to apologize again after an awkward greeting when the elevator doors opened. The sounds of the cheerful laughter and stolen kisses didn't really set the mood for confessing your past with Hydra.

The fourth, and final time, was the most embarrassing.

You walked into the room on a mission. You were going to talk to him, no matter who decided to walk in.

"Bucky, I really need to-" and you tripped on a toy Morgan left out, causing you to tumble to the ground. That would have been embarrassing enough, but there's more.

In your effort to get up, you tripped again, hitting your head on the coffee table, causing you to bleed profusely.

"Shit." You cursed yourself, holding your hand up to your bleeding forehead.

"Are you okay?" Bucky rushed to you from the other side of the table, concerned with the amount of blood spewing from your head.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Unfortunately, you chose that moment to jokingly reference your past.

Some of the people who tortured you had a sick sense of humor. Whenever they would hit you hard enough to make you bleed, they said something about only having one head. A play on words because of the greek serpent with multiple heads.

"Head wounds bleed a lot, I'm lucky I only have one." You froze instantly, unsure if he would have had a similar experience. Slowly, you looked up in an effort to make eye contact.

Bucky was also frozen in place. Clearly he understood the reference.

"Wh- where did you hear that?" Bucky struggled with his sentence, trying not to flashback to his time at Hydra.

"Oh my god. I'm so so sorry." You instantly started apologizing, trying to backtrack. "I really need to learn when to stop fucking talking." You said more to yourself than him.

"Where did you hear it?" He asked again, putting more power behind his words.

"Um, well, i've been trying to tell you for weeks now, but um, I also kind of, have, um, well, you see-"

"Just spit it out." There was the slightly miffed Bucky you were used to.

"I was taken. By Hydra. 9 years ago. Um, they forced me to learn how to fight. Tortured me if I did anything wrong. Forced me to do things..." You trailed off, realizing you didn't need to give him many details. He has first hand experience.

"Y/N, I-" You cut him off before he could say anything else.

"That's why I don't like using violence. I only know how to do that stuff because they made me learn it. I didn't want to use the skills they gave me." You took a deep, grounding breath.

"I don't blame you for anything you were forced to do. It wasn't your choice. You're not a violent person, and your past actions don't define who you are. You're here to help people. That's what you chose. That's who you are."

You made eye contact before you continued. "I've actually wanted to thank you for the longest time."

"For what?" He was incredulous, wildly caught off guard by everything you've said.

"The only reason I had an opportunity to escape was because 2 years ago, you escaped. If Hydra's resources hadn't been spread so thin trying to find you, I probably would've never got out. So thank you. For being strong enough to fight back."

You smiled at him, still unsure of how he was feeling.

"I... I'm so sorry." To say you were stunned was an understatement. What the hell could he have to be sorry about? Sure he was a little rude, but from your point of view he was completely justified in hating you.

"Bucky, you have no reason to be sorry. You didn't know, and I couldn't get out of my head enough to tell you. You just make me nervous." You clapped a hand over your mouth, shocked at having said what you just said.

You could see his face fall ever so slightly, causing you to jump back into your explanation.

"Not because I'm scared of you or anything! Hell, I could probably take you in a fight." You winked, trying to lighten the mood. It seemed to work, judging by the slight smirk on his face.

"I just, I've looked up to you for so long. Your determination to do good after everything you've been through is really inspiring. It's actually why I wanted to join the Avengers in the first place. I never would have-" You would have kept rambling if he hadn't stopped you.

"Y/N, I am sorry, and I do have reason to be. There's no excuse for what I said to you in the kitchen that day. Even if I didn't know, I threw everything you've been through back in your face. If someone had done that to me, I probably would have had a panic attack." He tried joking, but by the way you froze he could tell he struck a nerve.

"You had a panic attack? I'm so sorry! God, I just left you all alone and-"

It was your turn to cut him off. "Actually, I was kind of frozen in place until Steve touched me and I maybe threw him to the ground... Then I had a panic attack..." You smiled, trying to convey the joke. "So, I wasn't alone. Sam was actually also there. If anything, it made me better friends with both of them because I told them everything. So I have you to thank for that to." You playfully nudged his side.

He ran his hands through his hair, then down his face, clearly trying to deal with his own guilt.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up about it. You didn't know. It happened. We're good now, so we can move on." You smiled, trying to cheer him up.

"How are you so relaxed about all of this? You were tortured for years... I..." He was genuinely curious, trying to find a way to cope with his own pain.

"Well, even before that I always thought therapy could be helpful for me, so I really jumped in full force when I was free. Plus, if you can't joke about something, you haven't really moved on. Some days are harder than others, but I just try to appreciate the people I have now and the good experiences I've been lead to." You kept the tone light, trying not to get too emotional.

He just stared at you for a few minutes, making you questions everything.

"I mean, it's totally different for you though! I was only there for 7 years, you were forced into all that for like 10 times as long. I didn't mean to belittle-"

"I think you inspire me just as much as you say I've inspired you." He cut you off again, a small smile growing on your lips.

"Well, in the spirit of our newfound friendship, can I be totally honest?" You bit your lip, nervous about telling him the truth.

He looked nervous as well, but nodded anyway.

"I kind of, maybe, sort of have a crush on you." You watched his expression carefully, although there was really no need. His face easily gave away his surprise.

"You..." He stuttered, moving his fingers between the two of you. "Me? But, I was so mean!"

"What can I say, I saw through the facade... Well, really Wanda accidentally read your mind and told me why you were so upset around me when her and Nat teamed up to get me to tell you how I feel." You rambled again, realization dawning that you accidentally outed Wanda.

"But you can't tell her I told you that! She didn't mean to! She just said you think really loud sometimes and it's hard not to hear it! She did it to me too actually, I mean I told her she could look in my head so I wouldn't have to explain everything again, I know so lazy, and that's how she confirmed my crush on you." You said it all with wide eyes at a rapid speed, unable to control yourself around Bucky.

You slapped your hands over your mouth, forcing yourself to stop talking. Bucky looked on in amusement, slowly reaching to pull your hands away from your face.

"I won't tell her, if you get dinner with me tonight." He smiled cheekily, relishing in your blush.

"That's a deal I'm willing to make." You reached your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek before running to get ready.

***

Bonus:

Sam whined playfully as he looked at the high scores. "Whose username is 'God is a spoon' and how did they get so good at this game?"

He looked around the room, eying any suspicious candidates. Everyone denied it, throwing out accusations left and right.

It was another of Tony's team bonding nights and he chose VR games on the oculus. Obviously, Beat Saber was a top contender amongst the group.

You walked in with Bucky, unaware of the conversation going on, but immediately joining it.

"Peter! I bet it was him!" You playfully nudged the younger Avenger, having formed a close friendship in the early days. "What am I betting on?" Everyone laughed, happy to see you in a good mood after being so stressed for so long.

"Whose username is 'God is a spoon'." Sam chuckled after filling you in. You and Bucky settled on the couch, cuddling next to each other.

"Oh, that's me. Why?" You looked around curiously, trying to figure out what they wanted. "Is it a weird username? It was actually one of the catchphrase things in Just Dance on the switch, I didn't just think of it." You tried to justify yourself, causing more laughter.

"You?! How did you get all the highscores on this game? I thought you were the clumsy one."

You made an exaggerated face to show how offended you were, playfully swatting at Sam.

"I'll have you know, 7 years of Hydra 'training' and experimentation has its perks." You joked with the room. "One of them being I can beat your ass at pretty much any video game."

"Oh, you're so on." Sam smiled, glad he could joke around with you about it.

Meanwhile, Tony looked incredulously around the room, being the only one in the room who hadn't heard about your history, he was rightfully confused.

"I'm sorry, 7 years of WHAT?"

[rocorambles]

Set My Heart Ablaze

Pairing: Matsukawa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Creepy Matsukawa, Obsessive Behavior, Public Train Sex

Prompt: Chikan/Trains/Public Sex

Summary: Neither of you can deny the mutual spark of interest between the two of you, but Matsukawa takes the matter of turning that spark into a fire into his own hands. Only time will tell if that fire will provide you warmth and comfort or burn you alive.

A/N: This is my submission for the HQHQ NSFW Collab! Masterlist can be found here. Be sure to check everyone’s content once the masterlist goes live tomorrow night~

The train doors open and Matsukawa briefly glances up, smiling to himself as you step onboard, looking left and right for an open spot despite how you always end up in the same corner of the moving vehicle. He doesn’t know anything about you, not even your name. Yet he finds himself drawn to the normalcy you bring, the comfort of knowing you’re a clockwork fixture of his everyday life.

It hadn’t always been like this.

Matsukawa is just a man at the end of the day and he doesn’t deny that he took note of you long before you became so ingrained in his life. But it had been no more than a man observing an attractive woman and he doesn’t give you another passing thought as he returns to gazing out the train windows.

But working with death on a daily basis makes you look at life differently.

He prides himself on being a practical and level-headed man and despite the heavy nature of his profession, he never thought he’d get too bogged down by the environment, by the grimness of his business. Sure, maybe someone like Oikawa would freak out within hours, if not minutes, of being in a funeral home surrounded by corpses and coffins. But he’s not Oikawa (thank God for that). It’s just a job to help keep a roof over his head and food on the table.

But the longer he’s surrounded by caskets, the more grieving and sobbing families and friends he has to comfort yet professionally guide through catalogs and brochures and price tags, he can slowly but surely feel the weight of his daily work resting heavy on his shoulders, digging deeper into him with every corpse and tragic story he reluctantly becomes privy to. Matsukawa finds a new appreciation for life, for every tiny and minute detail, and suddenly you aren’t just another stranger who happens to share his train route.

You’re a reminder that he’s still alive, that despite the curveballs life throws at some, he’s still blessed to enjoy the routine and monotony of it. Life looks different, clearer, as he begins to really pay attention, appreciating every moment he has.

Maybe he’s paying too much attention. He doesn’t know when he begins to focus so intently on you, shocking himself with the realization that he’s observed you so closely when he nonchalantly notices that you’re using a different tote bag than your usual one. When did Matsukawa Issei become someone who notices the details of a woman’s outfit and accessories?

He knows it’s not right, knows even Hanamaki would crinkle his nose in distaste if he found out Matsukawa was creepily studying a random unknown female on a daily basis. But he can’t help himself, his realization only seeming to make him unconsciously focus on you even more. He notices what hand you use to hold your phone. He memorizes every expression you make as your mind drifts off, lulled by the machinery of the train.

But looking from afar only satisfies him for so long and he finds himself creeping closer to you, adjusting where he sits to be closer to your preferred corner of the train. He always tells himself just a little closer, but it’s never enough. And although he’s now standing right beside you, close enough to see every eyelash, every pore of your skin, it’s still not enough. He needs to hear your voice, feel your body against his, know everything about you inside and out.

He understands the irony of the situation he’s found himself in, reminiscing on how Hanamaki and him had gagged at how disgusting men could be as they watched older businessmen grope and grab at poor unwilling female passengers on their way to and from school. He knows how wrong it is, how like an uninspired porno this is, but when the train conveniently rattles, he jostles his body into yours, “accidentally” bumping into you.

Acting isn’t Matsukawa’s forte, but he thinks he damn well deserves an award for the performance he’s putting on as he profusely apologizes to you, hiding the groan of satisfaction he feels from the brief contact he’d had with you, from the way your attention is solely focused on him, from the way your voice seeps into his ears like the loveliest melody he’s ever heard. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying, meaningless small and polite talk leaving his lips as his mind focuses on what’s more important, mentally recording every syllable and movement you make as you continue conversing with him. But whatever words are spilling out of him seem to be working and something hungry and possessive stirs in him when your face lights up as you board the train the next day, making a beeline towards where he stands as you cheerfully greet him.

Maybe it’s foolish of you to so easily trust and warm up to a complete stranger. But he’s tall, attractive, and interesting, which is more than you can say for most of the men you’ve met and your friends and family are always telling you to put yourself out there more. Is there really much of a difference between finding a random stranger on the countless dating apps you’ve installed versus connecting with one in person? You’d even argue that there’s something whimsically romantic about how the two of you met, even though you don’t know for sure if this is really going to lead to anything. But at the very least, your daily commute becomes more exciting.

You’re everything and more compared to what Matsukawa had imagined and if he thought he was infatuated with you before, he’s completely and utterly obsessed with you now. You’re all he can think of, all he can see in his mind’s eye, even hours after you’ve parted ways on your morning commute, even as he lays in bed in the middle of the night. And as his hand slips underneath the hem of his boxers, wrapping around his aching cock to his imaginations of what you’d look like writhing underneath him, how you’d sound moaning his name, he knows he needs to have you.

After all, as pretty as a meal can be, it’s ultimate purpose is to be devoured.

You giggle when the train shakes and you feel a long toned body shift into yours, squishing you against the wall you’re leaning against, sighing in bliss at how right, how good it feels to be in Matsukawa’s embrace even if it is just for a fleeting moment, a little accident all too common on jam packed trains. But your face heats when you continue feeling his warmth, when his body seems to press even further into you until you can feel the expanse of his body against yours, not even an inch of space left between you.

“Matsukawa-”

Your words are caught off by a gasp as Matsukawa buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, lips and tongue mouthing and licking the sensitive skin there. You’re confused, scared, and aroused, hands reaching up to clutch at the lapels of Matsukawa’s suit, unsure whether to hold him tight to you or push him away. And your humiliation only increases when a nearby elderly couple scowls at the two of you in disdain, clearly unamused by the scandalous gestures of what they believe to be a young couple in love.

Yet you can’t help how your heart beats faster, wondering if this is proof of Matsukawa’s attraction to you, wondering if your hidden feelings for him are returned. But this isn’t the time or place for that conversation and you fervently whisper in his ear, begging him to stop, telling him people are watching.

“Is that the only reason you want me to stop? Because people are watching?”

You grow flustered at the implied meaning of his words, shame filling you at how much you’re enjoying this, hating how your neck arches for more attention as he straightens up once more, his body hiding yours from view as he stands in front of you, still pinning you to the wall.

“Better be as still and quiet as you can, sweetheart.”

You don’t have time to register his words before your mouth opens in a pathetic whine as a calloused hand trails under the hem of your shirt, sliding across the stretch of your stomach, mapping your torso before finally shoving your bra above the swell of your breasts, kneading one of your mounds, tweaking and swirling around your hardening nipple. It feels so good and you almost succumb right then and there, lost in the predatory lustful gaze he pins you with.

But when the train makes its next stop, the conductor’s voice jars you from your trance and you clutch at Matsukawa’s forearm, silently pleading for him to stop with desperate eyes despite the way you quietly mewl when he just quirks an eyebrow and pinches your nipple in retaliation.

“We can’t- We shouldn’t-”

Your hand trembles, jaw going slack when he slides one thigh between your legs, digging his hard muscles into that already dripping hole only protected by the fabric of your pants.

“You’re not very convincing. How about we play a game? If you can tell me you don’t want this without moaning like a bitch in heat, I’ll stop.”

There’s no room for disagreement as he abruptly begins grinding his thigh into your aching cunt, flexing and relaxing his muscle in a pattern and rhythm you can’t keep up with. It takes every last bit of will power in you to not wantonly ride his leg and hump against him like the lewd slut he had just accused you of being.

“I don’t want-”

You cry out in agonized pleasure as his fingers still hovering near your breasts begin to roll your nipples between calloused tips, his thigh never losing its momentum. And under the dual points of attack, your resistance crumbles. Matsukawa’s eyes widen in awe as you bounce and roll your hips against his leg, hiding your face in his chest as you try to muffle the lewd sounds slipping past your lips in the fabric of his jacket.

You’re gorgeous like this, a needy, lustful mess. But as much as he loves to see you suffer so beautifully, there’s only so much time before your stop and he decides to have mercy on you, to reward you for being so honest, so good for him. Your face snaps up to stare at him with pupils blown wide as his hand reaches underneath the waistband of your pants and panties. He groans when his fingers are instantly soaked in your arousal, your panties sticky with your fluids and his digits slip inside of your tight wet heat with no resistance at all.

He wants nothing more than to push the pesky fabric out of the way and lay you bare for his viewing pleasure, to have easy access to thrust in and out of you. But he’ll save that for another day. Instead his fingers slip out of you, tips circling your swollen clit, rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves as you resume humping his leg, body trembling, drool beginning to trickle from your lips as you frantically chase your end. And as the train stops once more, passengers trickling in and out, you silently scream, body convulsing as he brings you over the edge, pleasure washing over you and leaving you exhausted as you shiver and slump in his arms that are quick to embrace you and hold you steady as the train begins to move again.

You submissively let his fingers coated in your essence enter your mouth, obediently sucking and licking him clean, finding strange comfort in the action as you remain rested against him. But you keen in confusion, cheeks still hollowed as you mindlessly continue sucking while he guides one of your hands to the bulge in his pants.

But although Matsukawa is a man of few words, his desire is clear despite the silence and your face heats in embarrassment as he unbuttons his trousers, bringing your hand to the waistband of his boxers, dark eyes expectantly staring down at you. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. Not when you can literally hear the other passengers surrounding the two of you, only Matsukawa’s tall frame hiding your illicit activity. But your body has a mind of its own and you greedily slip under the fabric barrier, moaning around his fingers at how large, hot, and heavy he is in your hands.

You hate how badly you want to see it, to feel it inside you, splitting you apart. Your pussy clenches, leaking in interest once again despite having just found blissful release mere minutes ago as your hands curiously trail up and down the shaft, trying to memorize how every bit of it feels against your skin, trying to visualize what it looks like. But you whimper as Matsukawa finally pulls his fingers free from your mouth, squeezing your jaw and giving you a warning look.

“Don’t tease me, doll.”

Your fingers wrap around the length and it’s your turn to stare up at Matsukawa with eyes full of hunger and awe as you watch his Adam’s apple swallow, as you feel a pleased groan reverberate in his chest with every stroke of your hand. Up and down. Up and down. Your hands are slick with pre-cum and you know it’s just your imagination, but you swear you can hear the lewd wet sounds of his sticky essence coating his shaft with every movement of your palm against the velvety skin. You’re so mesmerized, so lost in the experience that you startle when something hot and thick spurts onto your hand, mixing with his pre-cum, making an even bigger mess of his boxers and you.

You stare stunned at the hand you pull out from between his legs, gazing at the white and transparent fluids that coat your flesh. But before you can even think about wiping it off or scavenging around for a spare napkin or paper in your bag, a large hand grabs your wrist and brings your stained fingers to your mouth. You try to resist him, the spell he had you under broken now that the haze of lust isn’t blinding you. But his grip tightens until you wince and finally relent, stomach churning in disgust and shame as you tentatively lick at the bitter liquid.

He doesn’t release you, not until every last drop is coating the inside of your mouth, his taste heavy in your mouth, seemingly in every crevice of your orifice, your hand completely clean and void of your sinful interaction.

You want to hate him. You want to wipe the smug satisfied look clean off his face. But as you readjust your disheveled clothing, you’re reminded of your own body’s betrayal, your own carnal desire and pleasure, by the uncomfortable mess in between your legs. And all you can do is silently stand there and pretend that nothing has happened as Matsukawa nonchalantly tucks himself in and checks his phone.

There’s an uncomfortable silence as you wait for him to acknowledge what has just happened, only to be disappointed as he doesn’t even spare you another glance, too observed in the glowing screen in his hand. You wonder if this was just a one time thing, if he had been stringing you along all this time for one quick public tryst. And you hate the way that thought makes your chest hurt, hate how much you dislike the idea of never seeing him again, never talking to him again, never feeling and tasting him again.

But as the train pulls into his stop, your eyes widen when his face hovers by your ear, lips grazing your lobe as his voice melts into your soul.

“Wear a dress or skirt tomorrow. No panties or bra.”

He laughs as surprise turns into an endearing scowl that barely hides the apparent relief in your eyes and he just casually waves farewell as you send him on his way with a tirade of angry words about his fucking audacity. But it’s all empty heat and he chuckles at the self-conscious embarrassment written all over your face when he sees you the next morning, a pretty dress fluttering around your knees.

There’s no preamble, no pretense of what’s about to happen and he smirks in appreciation at the unobstructed feeling of skin against skin as he slips his hand under your skirt, not an inch of fabric covering the treasure at the apex of your thighs.

[tennessoui]

You know one of my favorite Star Wars fic tropes? Evil, feral Anakin being horribly mistreated his whole life and hurt, and then being comforted and nursed back to health by Obi-Wan. And instantly imprinting on him, like, in a "I will kill anyone for you" way. Could be any Obi-Wan! Nice Obi-Wan for that sweet sweet hurt/comfort and kisses and turning Anakin from his murderous ways with the power of kindness! Evil Obi-Wan for sweet double trouble action and delicious obsession with each other!!

this is also one of my favorite star wars tropes!!! i love a needlessly protective and feral Anakin who distrusts everyone except for Obi-Wan.

unfortunately. um. this went a little sideways. and there is no being nursed back to health. but there's some delicious obsession and protectiveness and also future mutual obsession so i'm counting the prompt fill as like 3.5 out of 5 stars for following the prompt, which is. let's be honest, higher than most of my prompt fills. this is a bit dark and contains references to mind tricks, but there is no sex or kissing that could be construed as dub con. just like. dub con emotions i guess

(2.2k)

Quinlan has that look in his eyes, as if he’s about to say something that he knows Obi-Wan won’t like.

Carefully, Obi-Wan puts down his cup of tea and laces together his fingers in his lap. He can already feel a seed of anger blooming inside of him. Since Anakin has re-entered his life and the Temple, he’s found that this deep, swirling rage is harder to give to the Force. And easier to feel at a moment’s notice.

Like almost all the differences in his life now, this can be put on Anakin through no fault of the boy’s own.

After all, Obi-Wan thinks to himself, it is much easier to feel this sort of fury at the galaxy’s injustices when living with someone who has suffered most all of the most grievous kinds.

“Just say it, Quinlan.” Obi-Wan says.

Vos clears his throat. “Where is...your charge?”

“My charge,” he repeats, unimpressed. “You know his name.”

“I know both of his names,” Quinlan fires back. “Does he prefer Anakin or Vader?”

The anger inside of him grows larger at the mention of Vader. As if Anakin would ever prefer the name Sidious gave to him. As if he had chosen it for himself.

As if the Jedi had played no part in the birth of Vader.

“Anakin is asleep,” is all Obi-Wan says.

Quinlan makes a show of peering down the hallway of Obi-Wan’s quarters to the two closed bedroom doors. “In whose bed?”

His hands tighten into fists beneath the table. “That is a bold accusation to make.”

“Why?” his old friend’s posture is forcibly casual, slumped in his seat and hand loosely wrapped around his cup. Obi-Wan wonders if this is how he looks when he’s undercover on missions. The thought settles heavily into his stomach and makes him sit up straighter. If this is a mission to Quinlan Vos, then what is his objective? What does he want with Obi-Wan?

With Anakin?

“The boy’s legally allowed to spread his legs for anyone he wants, Obi-Wan. He's nineteen and everything.”

Obi-Wan can feel his teeth grind together. The fury in his chest is building at an alarmingly fast rate. The thought of anyone touching Anakin like that when the boy’s so obviously traumatized and in need of a tender hand--if he were a lesser Jedi, he’d snarl at Vos to leave.

“Any consent Anakin offers anyone would be dubious at best,” he snaps. “He is nineteen, but he has spent the past ten years of his life being tortured and enslaved by Darth Sidious.”

Quinlan narrows his eyes and looks over Obi-Wan’s face. “That’s not your fault,” he finally says quietly, leaning forward as if to grip his arm before he thinks better of it. “Obi-Wan, listen to me. What happened to Anakin is tragic. Awful. Despicable. But it is not your fault.”

Obi-Wan looks away, his jaw clenched tightly before he forces himself to relax. “I only blame myself for not verifying what I was told.”

“Do you blame the Jedi Council then? For sending the boy away?”

“My master begged me to train the boy, Vos. And while I was in the Halls of Healing, they sent him back to Tatooine. And no one ever checked to make sure he got there. Sidious grabbed him because we--because they allowed him to. And then spent ten years torturing and breaking down a child right under our very noses! Who would you blame, Vos?”

“Sidious,” the other man answers easily. “The Council had no way of knowing that Sidious even knew about the boy, that he was in any danger at all--”

“He was nine!” Obi-Wan roars, slamming a fist on the table, unable to swallow the dark, heavy fury anymore. “He was a child. A slave! They were going to send him back there!”

“To his mother!”

“To his chains,” Obi-Wan corrects fiercely.

Vos purses his lips and crosses his arms. “He is not a child anymore, Obi-Wan. He’s a killer. He’s dangerous. It’s worrying to me that you can’t see it. Or don’t want to see it.”

Obi-Wan wants to scoff. Anakin Skywalker is not dangerous. The boy gets night terrors, begs to be let into Obi-Wan’s bed, and can only sleep if he’s being cuddled up against his chest. He holds his blasted hand in public because he’s terrified of being separated from Obi-Wan again. He’s refused to even touch his lightsaber since the first night Obi-Wan stumbled upon him, bleeding in one of the lower levels of Coruscant. There are some days he won’t even let Obi-Wan touch him to hold him, and he shakes apart in the shadowy corner of his closet, reliving traumas Obi-Wan can’t help him with.

Dangerous. Dangerous.

“No, Obi-Wan, come on. You have to see. The boy’s turning you against the Jedi, against the Council!” “He doesn't need to," Obi-Wan says coldly. "The Jedi seem to be doing a fine job of that themselve."

“That's what I'm talking about!” Vos exclaims, waving an incensed hand. “The Obi-Wan Kenobi I knew would never say that! He would never think a bad thing about the Order, let alone say it! Let alone threaten to leave in the middle of a war if the Council didn’t grant him permission to keep the boy in his rooms! People talk, Obi-Wan! They’re not being kind!”

A thought bubbles up in Obi-Wan’s mind, vicious and sharp. Obi-Wan should not expect kindness from the Jedi. Not about Anakin. Everything they’ve ever done to and said about the boy proves that. Obi-Wan would have to abandon Anakin again to ensure the Council’s kindness and trust in him.

Obi-Wan would rather die than abandon the boy now when he needs him so obviously. He’d rather Fall than turn his back on Anakin, even if that’s what it took to stay in the Order.

“I think you should leave, Vos,” Obi-Wan murmurs quietly. “I think there is little left to say.”

His old friend stares at him from across the table in shock before he stands up without another word. At the door to his quarters, he freezes but doesn’t turn around. “You are attached, Obi-Wan. The Jedi Council will not stand for it. They will not allow it to continue.”

There’s something off with his voice, but Obi-Wan is too concerned with what he’s said to focus on anything else. “What do you mean?” he asks sharply, springing to his feet.

But Vos just shakes his head and leaves.

Obi-Wan collapses back into his seat as the door slides shut behind the man, his head buzzing with thoughts. That had sounded like a warning. Would the Council be so bold, so cruel, as to separate Obi-Wan and Anakin forcefully?

Yes, the thought flashes across his mind, followed by a swell of fury.

And then there’s a sleepy little questioning tug on the bond stretching between him and Anakin. His charge must have just woken up and found Obi-Wan still missing.

Obi-Wan tugs back, helpless against the urge to comfort Anakin. The bond explodes in a tidal wave of joy, the way it always does when Obi-Wan uses their illicit connection to communicate. He hadn’t in the early days, too afraid of the Council and the Code to do something so forbidden.

Now he cannot seem to muster enough regard for the Jedi to care. It is nice to feel Anakin in his mind, where he belongs. Where he’s always belonged.

---

In the bedroom that Obi-Wan keeps on insisting is not theirs, Vader allows his eyes to open as he slips out of meditation. He had been too forceful there at the end with Vos, fed him the exact words he needed him to tell his new master.

That sort of mind trick is too sloppy and easily discovered. It is much harder to trace emotional manipulation, especially over time. He’s been doing it for months now, the Jedis’ mental shields no match for his raw power trained to be sharp as a vibroblade.

It’s all just been a matter of slowly strengthening the other Jedis’ already existing mistrust and doubt about him, all the while crying to Obi-Wan about his past and his fears. It served to highlight the Jedi hypocrisy to his new master, and when he felt that first seed of anger grow in Kenobi’s mind, he encouraged it to grow faster.

The downside, of course, has been that Obi-Wan sees him as a scared child in need of protection. Vader is working on that too though, lengthening the touches they share and letting his shields fall at inopportune moments, like when he’s playing with himself in the fresher, so his master understands that Vader is capable of bringing him pleasure of all kinds.

It’s very important Obi-Wan understands that he can get everything he needs from Vader alone. There will be no one else, for either of them.

Sidious will die soon. The Jedi will die sooner. Vader and Obi-Wan can take their proper place, as Emperors of the Galaxy.

After Obi-Wan falls, of course.

It won’t take long now though.

Joy at the thought of one day looking into Obi-Wan’s golden eyes pushes Vader out of their bed and into the common area. He rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand a few times, and then it’s Anakin who’s crossing the space separating him from his master so he can settle in Obi-Wan’s lap.

Obi-Wan accepts him into his arms immediately, and Anakin has to fight the urge to smile in victory as he squirms in an attempt to get comfortable, only stopping when he’s straddling his master, sitting directly over his cock.

He wraps his arms around his master’s neck and buries his face in the juncture between his shoulder and throat.

Feeling daring, he licks slightly at the skin there, just to feel the way Obi-Wan’s hands tighten on his hips. “Missed you,” he murmurs, inhaling greedily.

Nothing in the entire universe smells as good as Obi-Wan, holds Anakin as gently as Obi-Wan, cares as much about him as Obi-Wan does.

He’d kill everyone in the galaxy for his master, if it was asked of him. He wouldn’t even think twice about it. And one day, soon, his master will feel the same.

Especially when his pesky Order has been dealt with, an execution order stamped with Sidious’ name. The only good thing his old master has ever given him.

The Jedi will die, Anakin will be blameless, and Obi-Wan will be safe from harm’s way. That’s why he’d had to push Vos so messily at the end there. Obi-Wan needs to be safe before the planned Order #66, and there’s no telling what Sidious will do now that Anakin has escaped.

“I heard voices,” he prompts, when Obi-Wan seems content to just sit silently and trace shapes on the bare skin of his back.

Obi-Wan hums. “Yes,” he admits. “An...old friend came to visit.”

Anakin bites gently at the skin of Obi-Wan’s throat and pulls back enough to make eye contact. He doesn’t know if his eyes are blue or gold right now, but either way Obi-Wan seems entranced by them. Riveted.

He pouts. “Your old friends never stay around long enough to meet me,” he says with a tremble in his voice, as if he cares about Obi-Wan’s old friends.

Obi-Wan reaches a hand up and thumbs over Anakin’s bottom lip. Anakin holds his breath. It’ll ruin everything if he sucks at it right now, despite how much he’s craving to map the whorls with his tongue.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan breathes out, and Anakin changes his grasp so he’s now holding tightly to the front of his robes. “I must tell you something you may not want to hear.”

The Dark inside of him roars and snarls at this statement. If Obi-Wan has decided to make him leave, Anakin will not go quietly. Anakin will kill the entire Jedi Order himself, until this glowing angel--so warm, so bright in the Force--only has him.

“The Council will try to take you away from me,” his master murmurs.

Anakin makes his eyes go round and wet. It’s not even that much of an act: he just has to think of Obi-Wan agreeing with his stupid Council, and suddenly he’s appropriately tearful and afraid.

“No, no, Anakin, don’t cry,” his master croons, grasping the back of his neck and touching their foreheads together. Then, in a firmer tone, he says the words Anakin has been waiting to here for months. “I will not let that happen. We must leave the Order. I’m sorry, dear one. I can only imagine how much you wanted this place to be your home.”

Anakin has to rip his head out of Obi-Wan’s grasp and bury it in his neck so his dear master can’t see his smirk. Oh, Obi-Wan. The man may never understand that the only thing Anakin wants is already holding him tightly against his chest.

But Anakin will remind him. Anakin will remind him for the rest of his life.

“When do we leave?” Anakin whimpers, wondering if he’s overdoing it slightly, but Obi-Wan’s grip on his back only tightens.

When Obi-Wan speaks, his voice doesn’t waver at all. There’s not a single shred of indecision in his force signature either. “Tonight,” his master says, brushing a barely there kiss against the crown of his head. “We leave tonight.”

Vader smiles in bliss and burrows impossibly further into his master’s arms, nipping at his master’s skin again, just because he knows he will not be pushed away. This is the safest place in the galaxy, and now it will be his forever.

Victory tastes sweet. Obi-Wan’s skin tastes even sweeter.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Fallout 4 romanced Companions reactions to sole being cute and todderlike when they get anxious? Like they hold their companions thumb or bunch up the bottom hem of their shirt?

FO4 Romanced! Companions React to Sole with Anxiety Tics

This was an awesome prompt! Thanks so much for sending it in! I hope you enjoy! 😊

(Also, I realized after the fact that I totally have like... almost all of these tics. So this was a fun journey of self discovery for me 😅 )

Cait:

Cait’s nostrils flared as Sole sat beside her, their anxiety clear in the way they incessantly cracked their knuckles over, and over, and over again. How their knuckles could even crack that much, Cait wouldn’t know. And she knew a lot about knuckles! She even cracked her own from time to time. But this seemed like overkill. Her hands would fly over to grab at her partner’s, her grip firm in the way it pried their fingers from where they clenched at their knuckles. Sole would look up at her in shock, utterly unaware that they were doing it at all, and Cait would loosen her grip, flashing them an apologetic smile and asking if there wasn’t some better way for them to release their pent-up anxiety? Maybe they could train with Cait? Box a little? C’mon, she promises to go easy!

Curie:

"Oh! Mon dieu, do not injure your clothes like this!" Curie would focus her attention on Sole, gently pulling their hands from where they bunched and tugged at the fabric between their fingers. She knew this was a tendency her companion had whenever they felt uncomfortable, and the doctor would do her best to find an alternative coping mechanism for Sole to deal with their stress. Going through breathing exercises and helping them to identify what was the true cause of their anxiety, and then trying to make whatever it is seem less daunting, Curie would do everything. Her medical training would help quite a bit in these instances, but her presence at Sole’s side would be all the more comforting, given the nature of their relationship. Once Sole shows Curie that they are trying to adhere to her more professional coping mechanisms, the doctor would be thrilled, giving constant praise and encouragement to her partner any time they seemed to be successfully dealing with their anxiety.

Danse:

Danse would spend a long time wondering silently to himself why it was that Sole always made that face when they spoke to strangers for the first time, or they seemed lost in thought, or had to speak in front of a crowd. Their mouth turned sideways, chin gyrating in such a strange way… He wondered if it somehow helped them? He wasn’t sure. When he finally managed to ask Sole about it, and they looked down at their feet in embarrassment, their expression raising up to reflect that very same face that he had been inquiring about, he decided that he already understood. He had a nervous tic as well, his superiors always berated him for cracking his knuckles when he was stressed, and now he would be the one to say something to Sole, to place a hand comfortingly on their shoulder and fix them with his sympathetic gaze when they were anxious enough to bite at the inside of their cheek. He would feel as though he were being too hard on them every time he told them to cease their nervous tendency, no matter how gentle he was about it, but ultimately he told himself, (and Sole if they brought it up) that it was because he cared. The idea of them physically harming themself, even in such a miniscule way, wouldn’t sit right with him, and he would try to work with them to find a more productive outlet to dealing with their anxiety.

Deacon:

The Railroad agent noticed early on that Sole would tug at their collar when they got antsy, and would see it as an opportunity. Every time he would see them reach for the top of their shirt, he would do the same to his own, making it a game to see how long it takes them to notice his mimicking. It was a fun way to pass the time, and to distract his partner from whatever it happened to be that was worrying them. Once Sole made it clear to Deacon that they knew what he was doing, he'd just grin at them, nice and big, telling them that everything was gonna be okay, maybe pulling them in for a reassuring hug or kiss if they looked like they needed one. Bonus points if they get nervous talking to him. In that case, he just stares straight back at them as his hand mirrors theirs, tugging at his own shirt collar…or he may even begin to tug at their collar as well, booping them on the nose as he tells them how cute they are when he makes them nervous.

Hancock:

When Hancock first noticed Sole biting at their cuticles, he figured they might be hinting for him to stop doing it himself, as that had always been a habit of his. He would continue to watch when they did it, to see if they only tore at the tips of their fingers after they had seen him do it himself, but that didn’t seem to be the case. No, only when they were about to have a tough conversation, speak in front of people, or otherwise were uncomfortable, would they engage in this destructive action. Hancock would smile to himself, approaching his partner and would slowly pry their hand from their mouth as he asked them what was bothering them. When they admitted to having their little habit, he would ask if they’d noticed his, and found that they thought he was the one mimicking them. The pair would chuckle at the thought, both of them thinking the other was making fun of them; when, in reality, they both just coincidentally happened to have the same bad habit. From then on, the couple would work together to try and prevent the other from tearing at their fingers, and would instead settle for holding hands when one of them was uncomfortable.    

MacCready:

He hated to think that he liked when his partner was anxious, but he just can’t help but smile whenever he notices Sole bringing their fingers up to tangle in their hair. The way they nervously stroked at the strands on their head, turning them round and round into little coils that would unravel once their hand left it’s place atop their head, it always made him smile; and in certain situations he would most definitely have to resist the urge to tackle them with his affection. In other situations however, if they weren’t in a very public place, or a dangerous area, if their nervousness was stemming from his steamy compliments, he wouldn’t hesitate to run his own hands through their lovely locks before covering their blushing face with kisses, even as his own cheeks turned pink. Did he ever make them flustered on purpose? Um... no. He wouldn’t dream of it ;)

Nick:

Whenever Nick sees Sole's hands running up and down their thighs, he knows that they're becoming uncomfortable. It’s his job to pay attention to the little details, and it hadn’t taken him long at all to notice his partner’s little habit, and to take action when he realized that the action was direct evidence suggesting that they were uncomfortable. No matter the situation they're in, Nick will cease whatever he's doing and reach over his good hand and rest it atop one of theirs, or lay it, palm up, on their thigh so that they can grab ahold of it if they so choose. The old synth's eyes miss nothing when Sole is in an anxious state, and he, without fail, will offer himself as a listening ear, a hand to hold, or an advice giver until he sees that Sole has physically calmed down.

Piper:

"Stop biting your nails, Blue!" Piper would shout every time she saw her partner giving in to their little nervous tic. It almost became a game with her, to see how quickly she would notice their discomfort. The sooner the better, because then she could help talk them through whatever was bothering them, Sole would startle easily every time she did it, but would find themself looking forward to the times that Piper caught them “red handed,” as it were. Sole rarely ever registered when they were doing it, and the fact that their partner did, well… they would be touched to know that Piper paid that much attention to them. And it made them even happier when she offered to paint their nails or give them a hand massage whenever she noticed that their nails were grown out.

Preston:

The first time Sole went to grasp his hand firmly in theirs, Preston thought it was rather odd, as they weren't yet together. Though he didn't mind, he did bring it up to Sole later on, just out of curiosity, and when they explained that it was a nervous tic they had, to grab onto someone they trusted when they felt anxious, he would feel nothing short of honored. The fact that Sole felt comfortable enough with him to look to him in their time of uncertainty, that they depended on him like that… it would warm his heart. As it became more of a common occurrence, the two would develop a sort of communication system this way, if Sole squeezed his hand a certain number of times it would tell him what they were nervous about, which became quite handy (pun fully intended) in certain situations. As bad as he feels about Sole being uncomfortable in any capacity, he can't help but admit how much he adores their reaction to it. It makes him feel strong, and protective, and loving, and trusted, and needed, and allows him to communicate to Sole that he'll always be there for them.

X6-88:

The courser's attention would fall to Sole the instant they started shifting side-to-side on their feet. His eyes would note the condition of the rest of their body, knowing full well that this tic of theirs was a direct result of their anxiety. When he realizes that Sole is outwardly fine, he won't quite know how to help them, but he'll want to try to do something for them. X6 will move towards them, reaching out a hand and placing it on their shoulder, his grip soft, but the weight of his palm pressing down on them would help ground them and prevent them from continuing their nervous movements. He'll want to help for their sake, want to make them feel safe, but also will want to prevent them from disclosing their anxious state to any onlookers or potential enemies.

[robininthelabyrinth]

CQL-Verse: Wen Ning did a whole lot of risky stuff saving JC and the bodies at Lotus Pier. What if NMJ hears and gets talked into helping protect him and the Wen remnants by the Jiang bros, because even if he's a wen, he still 1. whole ass poisoned wen chao 2. straight up commited treason and was punished for it to protect sect heirs and 3. is extremely baby brotherable. you can fit so much h/c into this bad boy

ao3

Untamed

1

Wen Qing was angry about the trials, but Wen Ning thought they made a reasonable amount of sense.

After all, how was the rest of the cultivation world supposed to know what they did in the war without a proper trial? It was only reasonable for them to make certain assumptions about them based on their surname, the same way everyone assumed that those surnamed Jin were rich, those surnamed Lan were beautiful, those surnamed Jiang were bold to the point of arrogance…

The Nie were supposedly known for their tempers, but Wen Ning hadn’t seen much evidence of that so far.

In fairness, his only experiences with a Nie were, firstly, with Nie Huaisang at the Cloud Recesses, which he was fairly sure didn’t count, and now, during the trial, with Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue laughed the entire trial.

“You poisoned the wine,” he sniggered. “At their own celebratory feast…! And then you just went straight to Yiling, where your sister was in charge. And it still took him how long to find you?”

“Weeks,” Wen Ning meekly admitted.  

“Can we go back to the bit where you saved Wei-xiong from the giant dog beast using stolen needles?” Nie Huaisang asked.

“No, we cannot,” Nie Mingjue’s deputy – a somewhat long-suffering looking man that they all called Meng Yao – said. “He’s already gone over it four times, Huaisang.”

“But –”

“No.”

“Spoilsport! Look at how much fun da-ge’s having; it’s not fair.”

“He’s the sect leader. If he wants to hoot like a shrieking monkey, he’s entitled to it.”

“I’m not hooting,” Nie Mingjue protested. “I am recognizing talent.”

“Talent.”

“Exactly. Talent.”

“At…what, exactly?”

“Causing trouble,” Nie Huaisang volunteered. “I recognize it from Wei-xiong, I could spot it anywhere.”

“Could we possibly proceed with the trial?” Meng Yao asked, obviously deciding not to continue with that discussion. “We have six more to finish today. Can I assume that given the evidence of Wen-gongzi’s subversive activities and his subsequent imprisonment throughout much of the Sunshot Campaign, he is absolved of all crimes and allowed to go free?”

“You spoilsport,” Nie Mingjue said, rolling his eyes at him. “Yes, I think so. Wen Qionglin, you are free to go your own way – though if you wish to stay here in Qinghe as a guest cultivator, we would be glad to have you for however long you wish.”

Wen Ning thought that sounded all right.

2

The Nie sect were known for their tempers, and justly so, but Wen Ning quickly figured out that he didn’t need to be afraid of Nie Mingjue’s occasional outbursts (quickly roused, quickly doused) or Nie Huaisang’s temper tantrums (petty) and occasional grudge-holding (rarer but much more dangerous).

No, Wen Ning figured out very quickly in his first weeks that the one to be afraid of was clearly Meng Yao.

Wen Ning had been weak and sickly his whole life in a sect that valued strength above all; he had survived hiding behind his sister, but she couldn’t always be there for him, no matter how she tried. He’d soon learned that surviving on his own meant being quiet and obedient, never making trouble or drawing attention to himself, and it also meant being extremely attuned to the minute expressions that might signal the difference between Wen Chao being angry enough to throwing a teacup at his head and being angry enough to order him to be taken outside and beaten until unconscious.

The same skills helped him in the Nie sect, where people were very often angry. Wen Ning could tell the difference between Nie Mingjue raging to let out steam (moderately common and generally innocuous, easily ignored) and being actually upset (typically only dangerous to the furniture, which was a nice change, but more worrisome in the sense that he might go and do something stupid afterwards), and he could tell that Nie Huaisang’s true anger, so rarely triggered, tended more towards the cold and hidden (definitely a sign he was going to do something, but unfortunately for everyone involved it’d invariably be far more malicious - enough to make you long for stupid).

He could tell that Meng Yao was, despite all his smiles, very often angry.

Like Nie Mingjue, Meng Yao’s temper was easily roused to the point of fury; like Nie Huaisang, his anger lasted a long time and usually called for some malicious action before it could be properly assuaged.

“Senior Meng,” Wen Ning tentatively said one day when his curiosity got to be too much for him. “Could I ask a rude question?”

Meng Yao’s temper, hidden deep in his eyes, flared at once, preemptively, and Wen Ning shivered and looked down at the ground. He had known what he was risking, but he hoped that asking permission in advance might allow him to get the question out with minimal reprisals – cold meals for a few days, perhaps, or being assigned to the training yard only when the most sadistic training-master was supervising, but only for a week or so.

“Of course, Wen-gongzi,” Meng Yao said, and he sounded nice and pleasant and like no question could possibly be rude enough to cause him any disturbance. It was a little frightening how good he was at that. “I can’t imagine what you would want to know that would be rude.”

“Are you related?” Wen Ning blurted out. “To Sect Leader Nie, I mean – his family –”

Meng Yao stared at him. His mouth was slightly hanging open.

“…it’s a stupid question,” Wen Ning concluded, feeling ashamed. Of course Meng Yao had been promoted entirely on merit; it was only his imagination getting away from him. “I’m sorry. I’ll go –”

“No, wait,” Meng Yao croaked. “Related – to the Nie sect – forgive me. How did you reach that conclusion?”

“I mean, you’re obviously treated as part of the main family,” Wen Ning pointed out. There were plenty of Nie cousins that weren’t treated anywhere near as well; both Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang were not only protective but almost possessive over Meng Yao’s time and dignity - surely by now everyone knew that the surest way to get them each angry in their own ways was to slight Meng Yao. “You wear Nie braids like them – you wear clothing like them – you have a temper like them –”

Meng Yao started laughing.

“…did I miss something?”

3

“I’m surprised you didn’t go to the Lotus Pier after you’d been absolved,” Nie Huaisang said, tapping the weiqi piece on the board a few times before making a move. “Given your fondness for Wei-xiong and all that.”

“Wei-gongzi’s very nice,” Wen Ning said vaguely, staring down at the board. He’d played a lot of weiqi in his life – including against Wen Ruohan when the man had still been remotely sane, mostly because he’d been the only one stuck back at the palace with him more often than not – but playing against Nie Huaisang required all of his attention. The first time he looked away, he’d get lured into a trap. “Very kind.”

“And yet you stay here,” Nie Huaisang prompted. “In Qinghe, with us, when even your sister picked the Lotus Pier.”

Wen Ning had never been without his sister this long before. He knew that she still expected him to come to the Lotus Pier. She hadn’t expected him to last the week without her; she’d said as much when she first went, huffing at him for being ridiculous – a Wen as a guest cultivator in the Nie sect, of all places? – and telling him, in between reminders to take his medicine on time, that she’d prepare a place for him there so that he would be comfortable when he arrived.

Her letters, in the weeks and now months since that time, had never overtly asked when he was going to finally get around to moving there, and had recently developed an almost quizzical tone, as if she’d finally realized that he wasn’t.

“I like it here,” Wen Ning said, and moved his piece.

Nie Huaisang moved his own almost immediately in response, which meant that Wen Ning had made a horrible mistake that played straight into Nie Huaisang’s hands. Not an uncommon occurrence. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “We like having you here, too.”

Surprised, Wen Ning looked up.

Nie Huaisang was smiling at him – he smiled nearly as often as Meng Yao, but unlike Meng Yao, he never smiled if he didn’t want to, so his smiles were actually sincerely meant each and every time. He had a wide range of smiles: nervous smiles, cheerful smiles, devious smiles…

Wen Ning was good at reading expressions, but he had to admit he’d never had to work as hard at it as he did with Nie Huaisang.

“We’re a very nice sect, really,” Nie Huaisang said, and even seemed to believe it. “We’re always open to people who are like us. The only thing we can’t tolerate is injustice and betrayal; as long as you stick with us and put us first, you’re ours, and we’re yours.”

That sounded nice, Wen Ning thought, and moved a piece blindly. “You think I’m like you? My sister doesn’t think so.”

“I think you fit in very nicely,” Nie Huaisang said, and his smile had teeth to it. He moved quickly, again. “You’re angry and resentful, but you don’t let it get in the way of what you want - just like us. Your sister probably doesn’t think that about you, either, but then again, that’s why she’s in the Jiang sect, with their heads in the air, dreaming of the impossible. I bet she never even noticed that you had a temper.”

She hadn’t. Wen Ning had been her baby brother and nothing else for a long time; he never had to defend himself as long as she was around. 

He’d never had the chance to defend himself.

(He didn’t resent her for that. He didn’t. She was his big sister, his favorite person, and he loved her so much that he didn’t mind the way that all her fussing sometimes made the world feel cramped and small, as if he were being forced into a place that he’d long since outgrown.)

“Do I have a temper?” he asked, and moved another piece.

“Oh, yes,” Nie Huaisang said. “You’re like me – slow to boil – and like Meng Yao, hiding it behind your eyes. You’re even a bit like da-ge: you don’t need to be the one get the frustration out as long as something deals with it, but if nothing does, it nags at you and wears at you, like a thorn stuck in your flesh, until you can’t be silent any longer. Until you have to do something, or else you’ll explode.”

That sounded about right, Wen Ning thought. He’d never really had a chance to explode in the Wen sect, out of fear of what they’d do to his sister if he did, and he’d been sick with it – he’d limited himself to little rebellions, nameless pranks, right up until he met Wei Wuxian, who was kind to him, and couldn’t stop himself from helping him. He sometimes thought, in the days he’d spent in the dungeons, that if he died he’d come back as a fierce corpse, soul-calming rituals or no, and he’d might even enjoy it if only for the opportunity to finally vent his feelings – to finally pay back every single injustice that he’d ever seen, each one marked down in his heart in an indelible list of regrets.

Maybe Nie Huaisang was right. 

Maybe that was why he stayed here, in the Nie sect, the sect of do not tolerate evil instead of the Lan sect’s chivalry and righteousness or the Jiang sect’s attempt the impossible.

Maybe he wanted to fight back for once. To have a temper, to have rage, to be something more than Wen Qing’s shy, stuttering shadow.

“I like it here,” he said again, but if his words were the same then the flavor was different: he meant it this time.  

He understood, this time, what he meant by it.

Nie Huaisang smiled at him and moved another piece. Winning the game, Wen Ning noticed.

“Good,” he said. “Now move over – sit in front of the mirror. I’ll show you how to do your hair right.”

“Really?”

“Really. Also, Da-ge’s been practically champing at the bit to teach you saber, and Meng Yao has been making grandiose plans about redoing the way we recruit and train doctors with you leading the charge, so if you’re not up for either of those, now’s the time to say something.”

Wen Ning settled down in front of the mirror.

“No,” he said. “Those sound good to me.”

[yurimother]

LGBTQ Light Novel Review — I'm in Love with the Villainess

A stunningly profound, entertaining, and queer title that eclipses other isekai and Yuri series

There are few titles the general public seems to be as excited about as Inori and Hanagata's I'm in Love with the Villainess, as it has been sitting at or near the top of Amazon's LGBT Manga list for months and Twitter is consistently abuzz with the latest news on this isekai Yuri series. I was somewhat more skeptical, as I have had relatively poor experiences with isekai and fantasy Yuri. Still, my excitement went through the room, and I eagerly boarded the "hype train" upon the cover reveal for the third volume. Yuri families, where two women raise children together, are one of my greatest desires and something I rarely see portrayed in the genre. However, I still had mostly low expectations for the series going into the first volume. I looked forward to some light meandering comedy and typical boring trope-filled isekai shenanigans. However, I'm in Love with the Villainess more than exceeded my expectations. No, even this statement is far too moderate to describe how utterly stunned and blown away I was by Inori's creation. I'm in Love with the Villainess is completely shattering and easily one of the greatest light novels I have ever read. Thus, I have no choice to award a perfect 10/10 score, my first ever for a light novel.

After waking up in the world of her favorite otome game, Revolution, protagonist Rae is ecstatic to be faced to face with Claire Francois, the game's villainous rival. However, Rae never played Revolution for the thrill of romancing any of the three attractive young princes. She was always in love with Claire. She attends the academy and studies magic in the fantasy world alongside Claire, the princes, and various other supporting characters. Using her skills from the modern world and her encyclopedic knowledge of Revolution, Rae manipulates the situation to be close to Claire, becoming her maid, and garnering status and money along the way. As an inevitable conflict looms closer, Rea begins to enact plans to protect herself and Claire, many of which are not fully understood or explained until the finale fantastically reveals the reasons for her actions. There is a natural and steady pace to the narrative that awards readers’  predictions and attention to detail.

I'm in Love with the Villainess has some excellent supporting characters, all of whom have unique personalities, histories, and abilities, some of which are revealed by Rae's exposition and others naturally throughout the novel. However, the stars of the show are the central couple, Rae and Claire. Claire is an elite aristocrat and extremely bratty. She often sneers at commoners and makes her disdain of Rae very clear from early on. On paper, she sounds like the perfect villain and someone all readers would despise. However, Rae's utter devotion and infatuation with Claire is so sincere that we cannot help but be pulled in and adore Claire and all her tantrums. Rae is a delight herself, continually flirting and poking fun at Claire, which gets her verbally berated, much to her masochistic pleasure. However, she is also exceptionally cunning and intelligent, and some of the light novel's greatest joys are listening to her analyze a situation or watching one of her plans fall into place.

“Ah, I’m… Well, it doesn’t matter. I mean, it’s irrelevant to cuteness—because, Miss Claire, you are cute.” “Huh?!” She pulled away. It was perfect—such a pure reaction. “Miss Claire, you hate me, right?” “Of course!” “That’s fine. Please keep teasing me. I love it.”

The beginning of the book does not immediately clue one into its brilliance. Sure, Claire and Rea get some great one-liners as they bully each other, and the scenarios are authentic and fun, but it is nothing shattering. I was feeling pretty relaxed and having a lot of fun with the characters, their relationship, and the various slice-of-life style scenarios they encountered until one section, I remember the exact page, 81, as it stopped me dead in my tracks. I was flabbergasted and briefly frozen before shooting up out of bed, shouting expletives as I ran to my office to immediately record what I had just experienced. It all begins with the line, "Hey, Rae. Are you what they call gay?" What followed was one of the most thoughtful, condensed, informative, and nuanced discussions of gay and queer identity (both terms used in this scene) I have ever seen in Yuri. Everything from representation in media, the perceptions of and prejudices against gay people, and the role gender plays in romance for bisexual and gay people are analyzed. Its commentary is succinct yet so respectful and forthright that it could have only come from genuine experience, thus selling the book and its characters so much more.

"Queer people were still overwhelmingly closeted in this world, which was rife with prejudice and nurtured little understanding. As I noted, the queer people depicted in the story were either the sex fiends Claire imagined or the free-loving sort Lene had in mind. Diversity and acceptance were a long way off.”

Thus, Inori's writing's beauty exposed itself, and the book opened itself up to a delightful cycle. The narrative masterfully integrates isekai slice-of-life hijinks, like running a cross-dressing café or battling a giant slime with nuanced and challenging moments that dissect complicated topics. The latter mainly consists of a growing rift between the aristocracy and common people, mirroring real-world wealth gap issues, but the novel also touch on matters such as unequal prison sentencing and segregation. Every scene helped further the complexity of the characters and their relationships or else built onto the world of Revolution. Speaking of which, I'm in Love with the Villainess has some of the best worldbuilding ever seen in a light novel.

Initially, brief exposition establishes much of the world, which is adequate if not exciting. I will mark up to a casualty of the light novel's serialized nature, as it must present readers its setting immediately. However, Inori does not stop here. Through the narrative, new elements are established, such as a magic system and the kingdom's politics. Rea notes and describes how the world, while clearly based on medieval Europe, has many modern Japanese attributes, as Japanese game developers created it. Her pointing out the intersection of the two is fascinating. Furthermore, A great deal of time is spent establishing characters and organizations all have their own wants, agendas, and methods, many of which are not even directly involved with the story. Instead, they act as a background and help further contextualize others. For example, the Church publicly appears to lean towards supporting the commoners in their efforts for equality but has its own agenda of superseding the nobility. While they play little role in Rea and Claire’s adventure, they are one of numerous factors contributing to the unrest of the lower class. All these additions are interesting, and it never feels like the story or characters suffer for their inclusion, quite the opposite.

“The Bauer Kingdom had started a step behind other countries when it came to magical research. They dominated the surrounding countries in military strength, and this had made them complacent, leading them to underestimate the value of new magic technology until the best researchers had all been enticed to other countries. Even after the king came up with his magic-focused meritocratic policy, Bauer lagged behind.”

I can only make complaints by scraping the very bottom of the barrel. Hanagata's beautiful art is too infrequent to add much to the light novel, and many scenes crying for illustrations are left to the readers' imagination. However, Inori so wonderful writes the story that one hardly cares and can easily picture every moment with delight. Besides, the manga adaption will nullify this issue. Where I cannot complain at all is the spectacular translation by Jenn Yamazaki and Nibedita Sen, one of Seven Seas best (which is high praise considering the competition). Sure, I was slightly disappointed at first to see the adaptation left off honorifics, but the more I thought about the setting, the more sense it made. I am sure people much smarter than I gave the issue much more consideration, and I am happy with their decisions.

I'm in Love with the Villainess left me reeling with how pleasurable and powerful it was. The story and characters are such a joy, and I cannot wait to see Rea and Claire bully each other again in the next volume. Astounding worldbuilding and powerful, thought-provoking politics surround their antics and the high stakes plot. Every moment of their journey will enthrall readers as they squeal with glee at its hilarious set pieces or are shocked by its commentary of society's most significant challenges. Inori has created one of the most delightful, heartfelt, complex, profound, and genuinely queer light novel series ever. If you only read one thing I recommend this year, let it be I'm in Love with the Villainess.

Ratings: Story — 9 Characters — 10 Art — 5 LGBTQ — 10 Sexual Content — 2 Final — 10

Review copy provided by Seven Seas Entertainment

Purchase I’m in Love with the Villainess in digitally (9/23) and in print (11/10) today: https://amzn.to/32NEyG1

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[godoflobsters]

The Brothers and Dateables With a Tattoo Artist MC

My own MC was a tattoo artist before she came to the Devildom, so I thought I’d write up some head cannons with a tattoo artist MC.

MC is gender neutral!

Mammon

Nobody can convince me that the “Brothers Under a Pact” squad wouldn't be the first ones to get tattoos from MC, and Mammon would definitely be the first

Definitely likes to brag about it too

Don't remind him that there are countless people in the human realm that you tattooed before him or he will pout

People tend to think that Mammon is cheap and would try to talk you into giving him free or cheap tattoos, but he couldn't stand to be like that towards you especially regarding something that you’re so good at

Our first man works his butt off every time he wants to get some new ink from you

Likes to give you a big ole tip every time

Gets fidgety when he has to sit still for too long so you two have to take breaks often

Prefers small/medium sized tattoos rather than really big ones

One time after he started getting tattoos from you, he was at a modeling gig and they tried to make him cover them up with makeup, he quit and that magazine went bankrupt not too long after...dont fuck with the avatar of greed

Once your shop starts taking off in the Devildom, he and Asmo try to convince you to do a shoot for Majolish(They definitely didn't pull some strings to get Majolish to do a whole segment about you and your business)

Beelzebub

The second brother to get a tattoo from MC

Refuses to get any food related tattoos: he doesn't want to accidentally take a chunk out of himself when he gets blinded by his hunger

This man has a very high pain tolerance and sits like a rock while you're tattooing him and you love him for it

He definitely needs snack breaks during longer sessions though

Has a memorial tattoo for Lillith over his heart that matches with one on Belphie

While making this list I was randomly blessed with the mental image of Beel with abuncha old school American traditional tattoos and you can pry that headcannon from my cold, dead hands

Mammon likes to brag that he has the most tattoos from you, but Beel might give him a run for his money, he doesn't mind Mammon’s bragging most of the time though, so he just lets him believe whatever he wants this time

Simeon

But Simeon has never been all that great at following the rules that they set for him

The first of the dateables to get a tattoo

He wasn't actually planning on getting a tattoo at first, but one day he overheard Luke trying to scold you for all of your tattoos(definitely before the incident with Beel and Lucifer in the underground tomb) and that was the only push he needed to jump on the “tattoos from MC” train

There is a lot of rhetoric in the Celestial Realm about how “Your body is a temple and you should not mark it”

He’s still not willing to stray too far from his roots though, so he’d probably get something with vaguely religious undertones

Absolutely delights in the shocked look on your face and the sheepish questions on whether angels are allowed to do this

Once he’s finally convinced you that you're not damning him to fall by tattooing him, the process goes by very easily

He is very easygoing and open regarding designs and he handles the pain very well

He absolutely loves to show his tattoo off, even when he goes home to the Celestial Realm and receives his reprimands from Michael

Leviathan

The third brother to get a tattoo from MC

Didn't want to get a tattoo at first, all of that physical contact and pain on top of it? No way

But then Mammon, Beel, and even Simeon all got one and he got jealous

You're HIS Henry, why are THEY the ones who get to wear your art? He might’ve been able to deal with his dumb brothers, but SIMEON TOO?

You gotta sit down with him and have a nice long chat about it, making sure this is something that he would actually want to do and not just his envy talking

Spoiler alert: It was definitely just his envy talking

He realises that he is actually oddly attached to the idea of getting a tattoo from you now though, so he comes up with designs and draws them on himself until he is certain that he won't regret it

Would get something tiny and probably gaming related

Definitely very squeamish about the pain aspect but the design that the two of you came up with is very simple and small, so he is able to make it through without fainting

He absolutely loves his new tattoo...but he is never doing that again

Belphegor

Fourth brother to get a tattoo

Has wanted to get one ever since Beel showed him the tattoo he got in memory of Lillith, but things were very...not good...between the two of you at that point

Finally worked up the courage to at least ask if you would be okay with it after the two of you made a pact

Beel, forgetting his super high pain tolerance, told him that it getting a tattoo doesn't hurt at all, so he was in for a big surprise when he went under the needle for the first time

Whiny at first, but he manages to stay very still for you

Has a memorial tattoo for Lilith over his heart that matches with one on Beel

Will definitely start to doze off during long sessions

Convinced Satan to get a matching Anti Lucifer League tattoo with him(definitely doesn't try to convince you to get one too)

Make sure that he does not, under any circumstances, actually fall asleep while you're tattooing him. He did once and he rolled over in his sleep, almost ruining an entire tattoo

Ever since that time, Beel has come with him to his sessions so you could focus on your work and he can focus on keeping Belphie awake

Satan

Gets his tattoo not long after Belphie

One of those people that think every tattoo needs to mean something so he takes forever trying to pick out something that he wants

Would probably get some sort of quote or design inspired by his favorite book, something that really resonated with who he is as a person

Was somehow convinced by Belphie to get an Anti Lucifer League tattoo

Does he regret it whenever he realizes that he now has a portion of his skin dedicated to Lucifer of all people? Possibly, but he definitely won't say anything about it to you

Loves to look at you and just admire your tattoos, asking the stories behind each and every one of them that he can see

He might be a bigger fan of literature than the fine arts, but that doesn't mean that he has any less of an appreciation for your work

Definitely pulls some strings and gets one of his friends who owns an art gallery to display some of your work there

Can set you up with all the connections that you need to make your mark on the Devildom art world

Lucifer

The last of the brothers to get a tattoo

In the beginning he has no intentions of getting a tattoo, he does have alot of respect for your talents and how hard you work for them though

As an art lover and artist himself, he will most certainly commission you from time to time and hang your work in his study

He won't admit it, but seeing your art and thinking of you when he's stressed with work is very soothing

He eventually decides to let you tattoo him only if it’s in a place that is easily covered by his clothes, considering how he dresses that leaves you with pretty much his entire body to work with

Sometimes when he has some time off he will grab a sketchbook and join you if he finds you in the common room working on a design, you share a comfortable silence, with the only sounds be the crackling of the fireplace and the scratching of pencils on paper

The kind of person that wants a tattoo but has no idea what he actually wants, but hes picky as fuck so he will turn down every single idea that you give him for weeks

He is lucky that you love him

Whenever you two talk about placements, if you mention anything on his back to cover up the scars from his wings he will almost back out entirely

Almost

Afew months later he’ll put his pride aside come back, admitting that your ideas would be perfect and that he wants to go through with it

During the session he has way too much pride to admit that he was feeling any pain

That is until you have to start going over the scars

As soon as the needles hit scar tissue he starts to fall apart; tears, shaking, the whole nine yards

It takes you quite a few sessions to finish since he cant handle such long sessions on that portion of his back

The summer after his new back piece is finished, he goes with you and his brothers back to Diavolo’s beach, this time he takes his shirt off in front of everyone for the first time since the fall

He wears your art with such pride that he lets everyone keep the memory, he even lets Asmo keep the pictures he took of all of them up on Devilgram

Diavolo

Wanted to be the first to get a tattoo but Barbatos said no

If you want to continue your career in the Devildom for the duration of your stay, he will buy you a building to work from and any supplies to get started since you had to leave your stuff in the human realm

Diavolo has rooms in the castle filled with the art that he's collected over the years, so when he sees that you're an artist he gets so excited

Before he finally gets tattooed by you, he buys a lot of your artwork and hangs it up around the castle

It takes a few years to propose the idea again to Barbatos in a way that wont make the butler’s hair fall out from stress, but he finally relented under one condition: it has to be in an area that is still hidden while he’s in his demon form

He decides that his legs would be the perfect place to indulge in your artistic talents while also keeping Barbatos’s controlling side at bay

Hes another one that knows he wants a tattoo but no clue what he wants to get

Unlike Lucifer though, he is a true open canvas

He truly adores your art so he wholeheartedly trusts you with his body and knows that he will love anything that you do for him

He knows that this is most likely very nerve wracking for you considering his position so he tries to reassure you and make the process very easy for you

You still put everything into designing him something fit for a king

He’s the type to prefer large pieces that span over entire sections of his body rather than abuncha small/medium sized ones

Another fidgetter, he’s really not all that accustomed to pain so he doesn't have a high tolerance for it

Likes to treat you to dinner at Ristorante Six after each of his sessions

Tips like the absolute king he is, you could probably pay a couple months of rent back at your apartment in the Human Realm just from his tip

Once his tattoo is finally finished and healed, he will find every excuse that he can think of to invite you and the brothers on outings to places where he is free from scrutiny to wear shorts and show off your artwork

Barbatos

The last of all of the boys to get a tattoo

It was a complete shock to everyone when he came to you and asked if he could make an appointment to get tattooed by you

“Everyone” being you, Diavolo, and Lucifer because nobody else knows that it happened and he would like to keep it that way

Another member of the “I’ll get one as long as it’s somewhere nobody will see” club...so basically not his face

Before the two of you get to talking about designs, you expect him to go with something small and simple, maybe an elegant little teapot or something along those lines

Then this man comes to his consultation and throws you for a loop talking about a sleeve

Very picky, he has high standards for himself and what's on his body

Knows exactly what he wants but does his best not to stifle your creativity during the design process

You learn ALOT about just who lurks behind Barbatos’s mild-mannered butler facade during his sessions, he’s surprisingly upfront and honest whenever you have him under the needle

Solomon

Can't get a tattoo

This man has pact marks for 72 demons all over his body, there is simply no more room

Any open space he has is being saved just in case any other demons *cough* Lucifer *cough* ever decide to come around to making a pact

Collects your flash and hangs it up around his room

If you take Diavolo up on his offer to set up a shop in the Devildom, he will make sure to tell all of his pact-mates about you, hype up your work, and get you a lot of business in the door

Sometimes he will commission art from you and use magic to make your art temporarily appear on his skin over the pact marks

Once you become a sorcerer and have a better grasp on your magic, he helps you experiment in creating magical inks and enchanting tattoos

Asmodeus

The only one that actually doesn't want to get a tattoo

He doesnt think that tattoos would fit in very well to the image that he has for himself

And not being able to show off every inch of his beautiful skin while its healing is a no from him

Since he likes to test out his new makeup and skincare products on you, sometimes after he has had his way with your face he will let you draw on him with skin safe markers

would definitely be a wimp about the pain

Will spam pictures to his Devilgram of his fancy new temporary tattoos and you drawing on him

Will definitely try to bring you some of his flings to get his name tattooed on them, you will have to reprimand him every single time and eventually he will stop

If you're not the type to keep up with social media, he’ll offer to keep up a Devilgram account for your shop

If you're ever attempting to draw and you have a very specific pose in your head that you can't find a reference for, he will not hesitate to get up and start posing for you

Luke

He is baby and cant have any tattoos until he's older

His mind frequently bounces back and forth between the whole “your body is a temple” rhetoric that he was taught growing up and “wow that's so cool!”

After Simeon got his tattoo Luke became a lot more enthusiastic and curious about your job though

Will occasionally ask if he can have one of your flash sheets so he can color your pictures

These very often end up on the fridge in Purgatory Hall

Sometimes they even make their way to the fridge in the House of Lamentation too

Will this make the brothers jealous? Yes. Do you care? No.

Luke loves you and looks up to you so much that he goes through a little phase of wanting to copy you, yourself and the entirety of Purgatory Hall can expect loads of temporary marker tattoos