#imagine writing this while they kept dropping content regarding this day

[closer-stars]

Gut Feeling (2)

Member: San Genre: Fluff still Word Count: 6.9k (nice) Requested: Yes Content: KCON:tact/Mubank schedule, you know that one. San being caring to Manager!Reader. Manager!Reader caring for everyone. Things pick up in the next part. Food mention but not as evident as part 1. Other members also make an appearance.  Note: I don’t remember their schedule during this day but I do remember that it was insane hours. Looked at some stuff to cross reference because it is on Brand of Stars to search things up extensively even when not needed. This is more or less proof read already since I constantly had to read it to have direction. 

Part 1

You feel bad having to wake them up at such an early hour. It was going to be a long day for these boys. Some of them still stumbled into the car with sleep still hanging in their eyes. A 5AM call time is insane in itself but practically finishing at 3AM? Madness. 

You had to admit though, seeing Hongjoong look disoriented with his blue hair was a little heartwarming. He’s been staring at the stark blue shade on him for the past five minutes as the rest of the boys still continue to be styled.

It takes a while before everyone is seated in their respective booths to get themselves looking camera ready. The next place they were heading to had some fans waiting for them. As they get their hair done, they eat their meals carefully. The morning people in the group were already pulling jokes and hyping those who needed a longer time to warm up. On the other hand, you stayed nearby, eating your breakfast that you had bought from a nearby restaurant. Manager Yoon arrives a few minutes later, asking how things are so far. 

“I guess, so far so good. Waking up at 5AM seems doable but finishing at 3AM is still madness.” You return after greeting him. You ask him afterwards if he has eaten, and from there you discuss how to handle the schedule flow and who would be in charge of what throughout the day. 

Time passed by quickly, the boys were finally ready and their stylists had already arrived at the venue. “You guys finished fast.” It was more of an observation for yourself but regardless, you pick up your own things and head back to the car to drive them to the next location: Music Bank. 

The trip to Music Bank was quiet, some of the boys trying to catch up on a few more zzz’s while doing their best to not mess up their hair or make up. Those who were awake were already rehearsing in their seats, all while making sure they don’t disrupt the peace of those who slept. 

You would’ve thought that San would be one of those who were asleep but he was up and awake. You don’t need to look back to know he’s awake, the ruffling of his clothes and soft sound effects were enough to let you know. By now, you already knew what he was practicing if the amount of times you stayed in the studio with them was anything to go by. It was a blessing too that the trip to Music Bank wasn’t bumpy otherwise you would have to handle a moody start from some of them. 

Once you see the building, you slowly twist in your seat to wake the ones within your reach. “Wake up boys, we’re a few minutes away from Music Bank now. San, can you wake up the others in the back?” The way Hongjoong was slumped against Seonghwa was a little adorable to put it lightly. You shake his knee lightly and it rouses him out of his slumber. 

He does as he’s told. It was a good thing the other members were easier to wake up. 

Once they arrive outside the building, they immediately make their way to their designated waiting areas, preparing quickly for their stages. You would have thought it would be a little easier to handle schedules when the people inside the venue was less than usual due to the pandemic situation. It wasn’t. The boys immediately changed into their stage outfits, those done had their makeup retouched. Everything moved faster than what you thought was possible. Yoon kept an eye over their belongings as you stayed near the stage to keep an eye on them, recording their stage on your phone for them to monitor. They do a few runs to get familiar with the cameras they need to keep track of while being aware of the stage area. 

You stay near the middle of the stage, while staying out of the way for the staff to do their job effectively. After their first song they head back to their waiting area, you’ve sent the video to their phones to monitor as they change and retouch for their cover performance. 

“Manager-nim! What do you think?” San asks as you keep a head count on the boys with Seonghwa right next to you. His eyes were bright, the haze of performing still clear in his eyes. “I did great right?” 

You gave him a thumbs up as you made sure everyone was back in the room. The others who have already changed were already watching parts of their performance: things to note for their future performances of Answer. 

The final run of their performance goes by without a hitch. Any mishap that happened were smoothly brushed away until the end. 

“What do you think?” Seonghwa asks as the two of you with the rest of the staff watch the boys on the monitor in your room. 

“Me?” He nods at your question.”It’s a good stage. This is one of your last stages for Answer too isn’t it?” Months of working with them have made your eyes sharper in terms of monitoring as well. You could see the same choreography and see certain things, but not everything. To Seonghwa’s eyes, he can pick out some of the shortcomings that they can improve on in future stages, things that you have yet to pick up on. Regardless, he was proud to see his members improve at such a rapid pace and carry the stage despite his absence.

A few minutes later, the rest of the boys come into the room, still catching their breath, holding any jackets they were wearing on stage to cool down from the adrenaline based heat. “Good job guys.” You say as you hand them packs of tissue to wipe their sweat away. Some of them ask Seonghwa the same question he asked you. The younger ones are clearly looking for praise. It takes a while before everyone’s back in the car, on the way to the next schedule: KCON.  

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You arrive at the venue, and immediately make your way to the dressing rooms. They barely had time to change out of their clothes for their On Stage before being brought to their designated room. At least it had enough moving space for staff and the boys, they were given enough time to rest and change into their next clothes for the dry runs. 

The good thing about having multiple talents perform various stages in one night is the lengthy time for your group to catch their breath. While they knew they were in for a long night, it was a different thing to experience the said thought. As everyone ate in their free time, they would also play games to keep their energy up. “You guys can sleep too while waiting for your call time.” You say, noticing how Yeosang was dozing off next to you. The male didn’t need to be said twice, he immediately readjusts himself, making sure to not mess up his hair and clothes and it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep. You notice that Seonghwa and Manager Yoon were in the other room, perhaps for the usual logbook. “I’ll wake you guys up in what…” you trail off as you look at your phone. “...an hour latest.” 

“Manager-nim, what about you?” asks San who was still on his seat, he looks at you through the mirror’s reflection, unable to move as the make-up artist does her work. 

“I can stay up,”  you stop for a moment, “well, I have to stay up.” you quickly correct yourself. “I can catch up on sleep later on.” You reassure but San doesn’t really buy it. He doesn’t get the chance to reply due to the make up artist retouching his lips. 

Time passes by quickly, you’ve already woken the rest of the boys an hour before their rehearsal. Yoon lets you accompany the boys to the stage, to keep Seonghwa company with the rest of the staff who linger nearby for retouches. 

The stage setup surprises everyone, even you. Without any effects, the entire set up was just a blank space. With a press of a few buttons, the stage lights up with effects, causing the boys to yell in amazement. You spot the director crack a smile at their enthusiasm. The boys quickly take their places in front of the stage and do their routine. You and Seonghwa are guided towards the back of the room with the rest of the staff who monitor the stage on a screen. Once the boys perform their routine, you can’t help but let out a soft whistle. Even if you’ve seen this routine countless times, you can’t help but be blown away by it. 

Seonghwa cracks a small smile at your reaction, pride blooming in his chest as he stays focused, monitoring the boys even doing the choreography in his spot. Once it was over, the staff shuffled towards the boys who monitored how the final output would look. You accompany Seonghwa to the rest of the boys but upon seeing a camera positioned towards them, you keep your distance, putting your phone up to cover your face. 

“Manager-nim!” San calls out to you. 

You spare Seonghwa a glance, only to see him and Wooyoung now talking to camera, so you drift over to the rest of the group. You take the portable fan from the stylist so she could work on the boys properly. 

“What do you think of our performance? Doesn’t it look cool? Did I do great?” The male asks, all while a stylist pats his sweat away.

You affirm all his thoughts, praising him and his workmanship on stage. The more you do, the more his eyes light up with glee. They’re called for the live run, you look at your phone. Ten minutes before show time. You pat San’s chest a few times, wishing him luck before excusing yourself to check on the rest of the members. The entire time you’re with the others, he always tries to keep you in his peripheral vision. Wooyoung spots him doing so and accidentally lets out a snort thus causing the former to look at him. “What?”

The confused look on San’s face makes him giggle. “Nothing, nothing. Just do good out there okay?” Wooyoung defends himself with a Cheshire grin. San pouts, unsatisfied with his answer but he knows how Wooyoung won’t budge that easily. 

“You too.” he brings up his forearm for them to do their signature handshake just in time for them to get on stage to open the show. He tries to look for you again and he catches you thanks to Seonghwa’s white outfit as well. The two of you send them thumbs up before scurrying away back to where they were initially. 

They’re given a few seconds to focus once the lights go off, the glow from the vcr cues them to get into their performance. 

Showtime. 

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Everyone’s back in their designated room, still hyper as if they didn’t just perform. You find yourself crashing onto the nearest couch, heaving a sigh of relief. Halfway done with their schedule at this point. Your head lays against the arm rest, your eyes feeling heavy and dry from being awake since.. Shit you’re not sure if you’ve been awake earlier than 3AM. Your head’s starting to pound as well from the lack of sleep. 

“Manager-nim, are you okay?” San asks softly, crouching in front of you as he eyes you in worry, he places the palm of his hand on your forehead, trying to get a feel of your temperature. To be sick at a time like this isn’t a good idea.

You peek one eye at him and nod. “Yeah, I’m starting to feel the exhaustion I guess.” You reason, trying to push yourself up to sit properly on the couch, eyes still shut tightly. “Can you get my bag?” He looks around, unsure of where your bag is or how your bag looks like. “It’s the white canvas bag.” You say, gesturing in its general direction. Once he makes a sound of recognition at what seems to be your bag, he approaches it immediately.

“What do you need?” 

“Just bring it over, please?”

“Manager-nim, how are you going to find what you need with your eyes closed?”

The question makes the corner of your lip quirk upwards. “Cause I know what’s in my bag and where to find it.” You reason, you can feel how cold your fingers have become and you press underneath your eyes gently. “Please?” You quickly add and it was enough to get the male to give in to your plea and hand you your bag. Once you feel the familiar material against your free hand, you grin in triumph, placing it next to you as you feel for your eye drops. Once you do find it, you open your eyes slowly, blinking carefully at the discomfort. You don’t notice that San has been watching you the entire time you try to ease your discomfort. 

“You can take a nap, you know.” He points out with a pout. 

At his words, you look at the rest of the boys, either too busy playing video games, eating, or catching up on rest as well. You look around for Manager Yoon, wondering where he could be at a time like this. “Let me just…” You yawn, rubbing your eyes with your knuckles. “...know where Manager Yoon is, then I’ll take a nap.” 

San couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at how stubborn and at the same time cooperative you are; like group, like manager. “Hey, you take care of us well, at least let us do the same for you too.” San reasons once he sees that you’re satisfied with knowing Manager Yoon’s whereabouts as you then readjust your position on the couch. He takes the chance to sit next to you, tapping his shoulder for you to rest on. It’s your incredulous look that makes him scoff. “You’re going to get a stiff neck if you lay on the arm rest or on the back rest.” Truth be told, you were embarrassed at the offer, grateful but embarrassed. Yet, you’re too exhausted to even hold a reasoning against his point. At your lack of a retort, he gently ushers you to rest on his shoulder to which you comply. Before you know it, you’re out cold. 

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You wake up to someone gently shaking you awake. A male’s gentle gaze peering above you. For a moment, you’re not sure where you are. You squint through the harsh lighting, greeted by a familiar pair of eyes gently gazing at you. “Good sleep?” San asks and you sit back up with a frown. You couldn’t wait for your bed later tonight, or early morning. At his question, you nod, a tired whine slipping out as you stretch your stiff limbs. 

“What time is it?” You ask, while trying to readjust your eyes to the lights. You take a look at your phone. Already nearing midnight. San hands you your meal, part of the compensation from the management team that had invited them to KCON. You stare at the meal on your lap then at him. “Wait, have you eaten?” You ask, a wave of guilt and confusion washing over your features as you realize that it’s past dinner time, and he’s already in his Growl outfit. Were you that dead asleep that you didn’t realize him moving? 

“Yeah, you had good sleep.” He coos as he watches you wake up from a rush of emotions. He found it endearing really, how you managed to still stay asleep when he had to move. He even had to beg Wooyoung to let you sleep on his shoulder while he was getting changed. The latter did give in, though not without teasing him about his obvious attachment towards you. At least now he could eat. He starts to dig in and you take the chance to look at him properly. Seeing them this dolled up is still something you had to get used to. You know that underneath all the makeup is their exhaustion. San notices your dazed look at him and he proceeds to shoot you a wink. “Do I look good?” He asks and it makes you shake your head. 

Your lack of a verbal answer makes him pout. “Ahhh, Manager-nim!! Don’t I look good?” He whines cutely at you and it makes Wooyoung snort. “You look good, San.” The former juts his lower lip out, despite preening at the compliment. “But, I asked Manager-nim!” Wooyoung just looks at you, a mix of fake annoyance and genuine amusement on his features, he then gestures for you to just give in to what he wants. “I meant your shoes, San. Your shoes look good.” This makes San sulk as he eats his meal and it makes you chuckle. How the two of them manage to banter so effortlessly without anyone batting an eyelash, except maybe Jongho who somehow manages to throw in a dad joke into the conversation. 

“You look good too San.” You add in afterwards. You catch how bright he smiles, how his dimples start to show and how his eyes turn into small crescents. For a split second, Wooyoung and you glance at each other. “I can see why the two of you are on the same wavelength.” Wooyoung whines at this, mostly to just annoy the two of you. His reaction causes San to look at him with a hurt expression. The two of them exclaiming questions at the same time, one directed at you, the other directed at Wooyoung. None of the questions falling on your ears in a coherent manner.

Yeosang enters the room to the two of them whining at each other and you looking mildly alarmed by the entire thing. “Don’t worry too much about them, this is really how they keep everyone’s energies up with this kind of schedule.” He says, his tone giving it away as to how often this happens. At his nonchalance, you look around you and some of the staff are already watching them, chuckling to themselves. There are some who are unaffected by the theatrics happening nearby. Off to the side, Yunho and Hongjoong were talking to a staff member holding up a small camera, and from the reflection of the mirror, you could tell Hongjoong wasn’t amused with Yunho’s pun. Just a normal day of working with ATEEZ it seems. 

A staff member enters the room, telling them that their call time for the cover stage is in half an hour. You take this as your cue to get ready to go with them but Manager Yoon rests his hand on your shoulder. “I’ll cover for this. Just get some sleep after your meal. You can cover their closing stage.” His words left you with no room to say otherwise so you nod and stay in your spot, eating your meal as the other members start to warm themselves up for their stage. There’s no practice run this time, they’ve done this so many times.

Hongjoong calls for the other members to try and put themselves in the zone. Thirty minutes do pass by faster than you’d think. Seonghwa though can’t perform with them, still stays with them as they warm up, monitoring them closely. It seems that even if they don’t fully dance in the room, he can already tell what needs to be noted. It takes you a while to realize you’ve finished your meal, too hypnotized by how San moves, even in the slightest. You don’t understand it really, how each member also has a switch in them that makes them go from regular boys to ATEEZ that has gotten the world wrapped around their fingers. 

Ten minutes left and the same staff member comes to their room to pick them up. Seonghwa notices that you haven’t moved from your seat, now looking at your phone. “Manager-nim you’re not coming with us?” San hears this and looks over at the two of you. The bright look in his eyes falters slightly upon the realization. 

It doesn’t register in your head that San’s looking at you with his bottom lip jutting out. “You don’t want Manager Yoon to accompany you guys?” You ask, and it’s your tone that gives it away that you’re being playful with your question. 

San doesn’t have time to make sense of what he’s feeling seeing you be like this with Seonghwa. Your eyes are just on him and he walks ahead to the elevator with the rest of the members. Seonghwa whines softly at your answer, “Watch us okay?” You nod at his request and shoo him off, not wanting to stall him any longer. You turn your attention back to your phone, your head leaning against the cool wall. It would take a while before you get to sleep again, so for now you entertain yourself with your phone and the rest of the staff. Everyone in the room has agreed to watch ATEEZ’s stage and as the time passes by, they share stories with you about working with the boys you now manage. They even ask how you find the workload, especially for a group that has been making so much noise on social media. All of the stories and questions you took with stride. Honestly, nothing much could be done in a time like this so anything in your path can and should be dealt with accordingly. 

Their stage starts and everyone keeps their eyes glued to the screen, all at awe at the quality of the stage design and how the boys maneuver the stage despite not all eight of them being on stage. You remember watching their cover of Growl back when they were trainees on Youtube in your free time and to compare it to this stage, the improvement is immense. You already knew why the public loved them but seeing it still amazes you. Maybe your body could sense that the stage was nearing as your exhaustion starts to come in subtle waves now. The lack of proper sleep had the world spinning but you force yourself to stay up for a few more seconds, at least until the end of the stage. Once it’s over, you excuse yourself into a smaller, discreet room to catch up on sleep. 

The boys return to their room to the staff clapping for a job well done on stage. Some of them crash on the couch, relieved to feel some sort of relief after performing strenuously on stage for another three something minutes. San was the first one who wanted to change into something more comfortable for the time being. He picks up his bag and heads into the smaller room. He was about to let out a sigh of relief, knowing that he was one step closer to ending this day. Now don’t get him wrong, he loves what he’s doing. The schedule was just so demanding especially after months of not standing on a stage. Though, having to wake up at a few hours after midnight and sleep after midnight is also demanding. 

He opens the door and is greeted by a sight of you still deep in your slumber. He could only imagine how tired the staff is also having to wake up earlier than him to get everything ready for today. It takes a while for him to get out of his daze, still surprised to be greeted by the sight of you asleep. His eyes catch sight of your goosebumps, he feels your arm lightly and looks around the ceiling of the room. The aircon was directed right at you. Quietly, he rummages through his bag until he finds what he’s looking for. Once he does, he carefully drapes your back with his hoodie, making sure as well to raise the temperature a bit to prevent you from catching a cold. He slips out quietly from the room, giving you your privacy. He asks their stylist where else he can change and she directs him to the other room where the rest of the members are changing as well. 

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You slowly find yourself waking up but your arm is still asleep. Maybe you shouldn’t have slept like that. An unknown weight is on your back, giving you some sort of warmth in this cold room. You reach other and it’s a hoodie, you don’t think you put this on yourself, it doesn’t look like yours either. The sleep you got wasn’t enough but it’ll help you last for the last few hours of this schedule. 

This time you wake up, knowing where you are. This time also throws you off by the hoodie draped over your back. You push yourself to stand up, and it takes a while for your limbs to warm up. Just how cold is this room? Did you not notice the temperature earlier? You fold the hoodie over your arm as you slip out of the room, looking around to ask who owns the hoodie. Some of the members fix themselves in front of the mirror, some were playing what looked like PUBG on their phones. San notices you first after monitoring his dance in front of the mirror. “Manager-nim! Did you sleep well?” He greets you brightly. You blink a few times to wake yourself up, your brain taking a while to start running. 

Two blinks before the words sink in. “Yeah, I did..” You admit with an embarrassed laugh. “I was going to ask if you know who owns this hoodie?” You continue, holding up the material to his attention. He points to himself, a pleased expression on his features. You feel your cheeks heat up at the realization. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry for this. I don’t think I remember putting this on myself either.” You quickly spit out, stumbling over your words. 

He smiles through your flustered defense and finds it hard not to coo over how endearing you look. It’s only after you finish your defense that he speaks up again. “Hey, it’s okay! I put it on you while you were asleep cause the room you were in was so cold!” He complains about the temperature, easing you from your panic and worries. “You didn’t bring a jacket with you no?” He asks to which you shake your head.  It’s June, the weather’s still pretty hot and a jacket isn’t usually needed. Your tolerance to the cold is usually good but you guess this one was pretty cold even for your standards. He continues to remind you to bring a jacket regardless of the weather, all with a pout on his lips. “What’s going to happen to us when you fall sick huh, Manager-nim?” He complains softly, his pout never leaving him as he speaks. 

His question makes you laugh softly and you reach to squish his cheeks together, causing his lips to pucker up. “Yes, I understand, San-nim.” You return, calling him with the proper honorifics just because of the sudden change in roles: him nagging you, instead of you nagging him. Giggles bubble from his chest at how you play along. “Where’s your bag?” You ask and he looks at you with a confused look. 

“Why?”

“So that i can return this..” You say with a raised eyebrow. You had to return to him after all. 

“Keep it.”

“What?” Did you hear that right?

“I said keep it at least until the schedule’s done. You got really cold while you were sleeping.” He reiterates, though a little slower this time. At least he has mercy on your still slowly waking consciousness. 

With the amount of times he’s making you heat up from embarrassment, you doubt you would need the hoodie. But you concede, you fold the hoodie over your arms, the warmth makes you notice just how cold this room is. He notices your reaction and he couldn’t help but smile a little, endeared by your actions. Before he could say anything else, Yeosang calls for his help on attaching the microphone. You decide to shrug on the hoodie, and you notice how the sleeves practically swallow your arms. Another important question, what brand is this and how much is it? You probably have to save five months worth of your salary to afford it (but let’s be real, considering all your expenses, make it ten… years).

 A staff member arrives and it’s their last stage for the day. You can see just how tired they are and you can’t help but sympathize with them. It’s how ATEEZ manages to send them energy by their antics that you can see the staff’s face crack in bemusement. They’re on standby for their performance, and they’ve noticed how some of the staff have lines of exhaustion on their face. You and Seonghwa stay in the same place that the production staff directed you to earlier. 

It’s how their thoughtful actions of wishing the staff luck and strength for the last leg that you notice their exhausted frowns turn into small soft smiles. 

Once the show ends, you could hear sighs of relief as they remove their headsets. The men who handled the cameras set aside the cameras with an exhausted groan-- those things never looked light. Seonghwa joins the rest of the group as they thank the staff for the hard work, clapping for them as well. You do the same off to the side, thanking everyone for such a demanding event. You wait for the boys by the door, all of them still cheering and thanking each staff. You wonder how ingrained their manners were, regardless, it was nice to see well mannered idols in a demanding industry.

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Their schedule is finally over, not after the stage but after recording a quick talk for their vlog. After that, the room erupts into sudden applause and bellows of thank yous to the staff that has helped them since the ungodly hours. The boys quickly change out of their stage outfits and into something more comfortable for the ride home. As you wait for the boys to be finished, you help around packing up everything before picking up your bag. You look through your bag, making sure nothing was forgotten and you wait for them with Manager Yoon who had a small cup of what seemed to be coffee in his hands. 

“Coffee? At this hour?” You ask, voice clear with shock. Granted he was going to be the one in charge of keeping everyone safe on the road this time, you wonder how it’ll go for him after. 

He raises the cup, gesturing to the object as to ask if it was the subject of the discussion. “This? Nah, it’s green tea.” 

You tip your head, understanding his points. Once the boys were all set and all the staff had left, the group head to the parking lot. Not a lot of cars are in the parking lot, save for the other staffs and artists who may have stayed for other deals. The car was filled with soft murmurs, praises of having done well on stage and the like being passed around. It was clear it would take a while before the adrenaline dies down for them. 

For you on the other hand, you’re tired. You’ve been awake since 5AM and it’s going near 4AM now. You try to stay awake until at least you leave the parking lot, but in reality the last thing you remember was seeing the exit of the parking lot.

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“Hey, we’re here.” 

Yoon shakes your shoulder to wake you up. Did you fall asleep on the road? You look around and you’re in the parking lot of your apartment complex. A wince flashes across your face as you stretch for a few moments to wake yourself up. 

“Sorry..” You mumble as you slowly side off the car, hoisting your bag up over your shoulder. Yoon shakes his head and reassures you that it’s alright. 

“Good job today, get some rest. It’s Manager Bae’s shift tomorrow so you don’t need to wake up early.” He hands the keys to the car to you as he makes his way home. Your shoulder starts to burn as you wave him goodbye, watching him leave until he disappears from your sight. You readjust the bag to ease the pain.

“Need help?” 

The sudden voice from behind you startles you as you spin on your feet to see who would be talking to you at this hour. Could you even protect yourself at a time like this? Your hands grip to the straps tightly in fear and suddenly, San takes a few steps back, hands up in the air proclaiming his innocence. 

His eyes were wide in surprise at your reaction. “Did I scare you?” He asks softly. 

“I thought you went up with the boys already..” You mumble in relief. God, you need to find another bag that wasn’t going to give you back pain at your age. 

He looks at you with a soft gaze at your words. He could see how tired you are especially after being on the road for twelve or more hours. “Give me your bag.” He says and he doesn’t take a no for an answer. Right after he says that, he slips your tote off your shoulders and into his hold. 

You didn’t get enough time to reject his offer, the rush of blood properly returning to your arm provides enough to distract you long enough for him to do what he does. “Hey!” 

He gives you a small smile. “Come on,” he starts, gesturing to you to walk ahead of him. “You’ve worked hard today, this is the least I can do for you.” 

You look at him over your shoulder, the words catching you off guard. You wait for the elevator to arrive and it’s a comforting silence between the two of you. It takes a while before you speak up. “You’ve done amazing today too, San.” You say softly. Wow, even your voice couldn’t hide the exhaustion. 

He chuckles softly, his hair hiding how his eyes have turned into small crescents filled with glee. “Thanks, your words really mean a lot to me too.” He admits. He isn’t going to admit the way his heart slightly did a flip at your words. He catches the surprised look on your face and he raises an eyebrow in question.

“I thought you would get that kind of praise from your fans.” 

Your words make him pause for a moment, the silence cut by the ding of the elevator’s arrival. He ushers you to step in first then him. He presses the button for your floor then his before he continues your conversation. “I do, and they mean a lot too. There’s a different weight I suppose when it comes from someone who has seen the process and someone who has seen the final product.”

He had a point and you lean against the cool metal of the metal box you’re in. Switching on your phone proved to be a bit of a trouble with how heavy your body feels. 5AM. Jesus, awake for more than twenty four hours. “Christ, this is the longest schedule I’ve worked on.” You mumble to no one in particular. He looks over at you with the softest smile on his features but opts to say nothing. You need rest. Your rest your head against the cool metal, feeling slightly light headed as the elevator goes up. The entire ride has you floating in and out of consciousness and it’s only when the elevator alerts you that you’ve arrived on your floor as you push yourself to move. You stretch out your hand for your bag but he doesn’t budge. Tired eyes look at him in confusion. 

“I’m walking with you to your apartment.” He says, walking out of the metal box with you.

“San..” Okay even to you, your voice doesn’t sound as persuasive as it would when you’re wide awake. 

“You’re tired,” he points out and he nearly addresses you by your work title but he catches himself quickly and calls you by your name. “At least, let me do this for you. Please?” 

“You’ve said that earlier walking me to the elevator.” You reason but from the looks of it, he isn’t going to budge. 

How he manages to pull such an endearing look that it makes you cave was beyond you. Maybe it was just the exhaustion. “God, fine but if you try anything I swear.” You mumble. The tug of your body towards your bed was strong because you just trudge down the hall with San following you quietly. He gives you some distance, he doesn’t want you to think otherwise of him even at your most vulnerable. 

You punch in your lock code and you never felt this relief for an annoying three note beep. You look over at him and it’s only in that instance that you see his exhaustion starting to settle on his eyes and it softens you. You reach out for your bag from his hold, rubbing his palm lightly to ease the marks and pain your bag has caused. “Get some rest okay? Tell the rest of the boys, you got a free day tomorrow so it’s your call if you want to go to the company or not.” 

He thanks whoever was out there for his skills in keeping his composure, otherwise he would’ve jumped at your touch. Did you feel it too? Your words make him feel lighter, he could sleep in but he’s going to head to the company either way. “Do we just message you?” He asks.

“Manager Bae or I, yes. I’ll be awake by noon. Good night, San. You need to rest.” You step into your apartment and it’s when the door locks that he snaps out of it. He rubs the back of his neck and shakes his head. He likes the feeling but he’s hesitant to let himself understand this completely. Either way, he wants to spend more time with you. 

He makes his way to his dorm and his members were already washed up, some of them already knocked out. The lack of keyboard taps and mouse clicking were enough for him to know that everyone is beat, even Jongho and Seonghwa. At least he doesn’t have to rush cleaning himself up tonight. 

You shut the door behind you and let out the longest sigh you could do. You were dead exhausted and couldn’t wait to get under your blankets. 

--------

You put your bag on your chair, shrugging off the hoodie you’ve been wearing for the entire night. It’s when you were already in the bathroom, in the middle of a much needed shower that you realize, you forgot to return San’s hoodie. The realization wakes you up, shocking you faster than the hot water splashing against your skin. 

You step out of the shower finally in your sleep wear and you look through your phone, thank god you had his number already. 

[ You ] : San! I still have your hoodie. I’ll wash it then return it to you by tomorrow! 

You toss your phone to your bed, picking up the hoodie and giving it a quick sniff. A small part of you is always paranoid if you smell bad regardless if you use deodorant or perfume. It doesn’t. That doesn’t change the fact you’d wash it and have it dry tonight in time for when you see him. 

Unfortunately, this means you’re sleeping a little later than you wanted. You stay up on your phone as you catch up on things you’ve missed in the past twenty four hours. 

[ San ] : No rush! Give it back whenever you can! ^^

Even with his reassuring message, you wanted to give it back to him as soon as possible. Out of curiosity, you check the brand of the hoodie, wondering if you could afford it. You manage to find the brand name and it takes a while before you find the same model that he has. It’s the way the website doesn’t have the price on display that it scares you. Once you do see the price, you do the quick math for it, roughly nine months worth of salary savings if you have enough self control. 

Once the washing process was over, you hang up the hoodie and head to bed. 

----

He’s buried under his blanket as he thinks about the entire day. ‘Ka-talk!’ Everyone’s too deep into their sleep for them to wake up to his notification. He reads the message and couldn’t help but smile against his pillow. He manages a quick response, not wanting you to rush to the apartment at this hour. He can wait for the hoodie but there’s a part of him that looks forward to seeing you again with his hoodie. 

5:30 AM.

Time to sleep. He has plenty of time to understand these feelings in him. He just knows that whatever he’s feeling, he likes it. 

---------

Part 3

[beskarberry]

Blue Orchid

Flowers for Ishtar, Chapter 1

(Nonhuman!Mando x f!Reader) [+18!]

You’d had to bite down on the corner of your blanket when you thought of him pinning you to the wall or bending you over the dashboard, stuffing you full of his length while he groaned his praises in your ears until you were soaked.

This was not at all what you had imagined.

Next->

Summary: You discover your hunting partner isn't human, which in a galaxy far, far away isn't that strange until his alien needs become too much for him to hide.

Rating: Explicit as FUCK

Word count: 9.2k

Content warnings: Major kinks: breeding and pregnancy, eggs and oviposition, mpreg/fpreg, alien genitalia. Minor kinks: praise, eating and weight gain. Kink sprinkles: threw some things in like just a tad of sex pollen, hair pulling, spanking, a very brief daddy kink, the idea of a/b/o. There's a few more but if you're familiar with my writing you know what's up. Negatives: body horror, dysphoria.

A/N: Yeah... um... hm... So this is some weird shit but if you enjoyed Garden of Ishtar this will be right up your alley. If that was weird and creepy for you then this is not for you! You have been warned!!!

There’s something strange going on with your partner.

Mando, as he insisted on being called, even though that was clearly not his real name, had been acting differently recently. Though he was an odd one from the get-go, the burly, short-tempered, efficient hunter took some getting used to, but now something about him was off.

It was a strange partnership you’d gotten yourself into, ever since that day you had been sitting in the same cantina booth as him on Nevarro, arguing with Karga over the last available bounty puck.

“Karga, I’m not splitting a puck with this guy.” You’d barked, crossing your arms and leaning back with a huff. Next to you, the armored stranger grunted in agitated agreement, his plated shoulders catching the light as they stiffened. You didn’t know each other, and as far as you could tell the only thing you both had in common was that you both worked for the Guild.

“Well that’s too bad!” The old agent stated, shaking his head. “This is the last one I’ve got until next month, so unless one of you wants to wait until then, this is all I have left. You're going to have to work together as a team.”

“Unless I kill her first.” The iron giant said coldly, not even looking your way.

“I’d like to see you try.” A knife flew from your belt to the table as you buried the tip of it in the faux wood counter, glaring daggers with your eyes at his shiny metal head.

“Easy now, we’re all friends here! Can’t have my two best hunters fighting, or killing each other…”

“Bullshit, I’m the best hunter here, Kargsy, and you know it.” Fury seethed from your words, but it was seemingly lost on the other man. “Tinman here can go fuck himself.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“No, but I fuck yours with it!”

Greef slammed a fist down on the table, making the trio of spotchka glasses bounce and spill. “That’s enough, either you two figure out how to play nice or neither of you will be getting this puck, or any other pucks for that matter! And that’s final!”

That was six months ago.

Despite your differences, the pair of you made for a terrifying duo, between his heavily armored body and your quick, nimble blades, it was like hell itself had released its most deadly demons. The bounty was found, hunted, and captured so quickly and easily that the minute the Razor Crest touched back down on Nevarro you were both excitedly harassing Karga for more.

Your newfound companion didn’t talk much, but what he didn’t say with his words he made up for with his actions. He gave you a little backstory, filling you in on his Mandalorian heritage and what that meant regarding his helmet and armor, and you were fine with the condition that he would never show his face around you. What he did show you was how lethal he could be, a whirlwind of blasters and beskar, an immovable object that coupled neatly with your unstoppable force.

It was poetry in motion.

Bounties fell at your feet like wheat before the scythe, wracking up credits like Kessel-running smugglers which you both blew on firearms and vibroblades as if the galaxy was ending tomorrow. What didn’t go towards guns and ammo went towards food and fuel, the Crest blasting off of Nevarro again and again and again.

As time went on, you slowly started to warm up to each other. You couldn’t really say you were friends, just work partners that happened to be flawlessly efficient at what they did. It was a fine arrangement, but over time small, but significant changes between you started to catch your attention.

You’d pinned a bounty, a large, malodorous Twi’lek that nearly squirmed out from your grasp, only to earn themselves a vicious cold-clocking to the back of their tentacled skull. Breath heavy and eyes burning with aggression, you’d slogged the captive into the carbonite freezer like you were taking out the trash, your wanton strength not going unnoticed by your companion.

“Good job.” Mando had said with a tilt of his helmet, watching your chest heave with adrenaline. “Such a strong verd’ika, can’t wait to see what you do to the next guy.” He’d never complimented you up to that point, if he spoke to you at all. It’d caught you off guard, but in a good way, and you knew right then you wanted to hear him say it again.

So you kept doing a good job.

And you did it on purpose.

The next bounty you held in place while Mando punched their lights out, holding steadfast against the living sledgehammer that was your partner, wincing every time you felt his fists explode against the Aqualish’s exoskeleton. When they’d keeled over, you let them fall to the floor, jumping slightly when Mando patted your shoulder, impressed with your ability to hold your own.

He seemed kind, when he wasn’t retaliating against your snide remarks or beating the living shit out of a bounty. Often when it was just the two of you he was almost soft spoken, asking you if you got enough to eat or if your wounds needed tending to, but not once did he ever make a pass at you.

That was somewhat of a surprise, but you didn’t even know what species he was, so there was a good chance you weren’t even on his sexual radar. He looked human, he obviously wasn’t a Togruta or a Twi’ with that helmet, and he was too tall to be a Rodian or Ugnaught. Too broad to be Gungan.

He was humanly proportioned to a sinful degree, his wide armored shoulders and cinched waist giving you wicked thoughts in the late hours. Even his fucking voice did something to you, the deep, gravelly husk of it almost reverberated in your chest when he spoke, and more than once you wished it would vibrate for you somewhere else.

But you were just two hunters making a living, nothing more.

Recently, however, something had started to change; and it wasn’t something that you liked. You weren’t buddy-buddy, but in the recent weeks his demeanor had started to wane. Mando was always private, taking his meals alone and keeping the fresher door locked when in use, but even when he wasn’t dealing with the necessary inconveniences of being alive he was starting to avoid you more and more.

At first you let him have his space, it was none of your business what was bothering him if he wasn’t going to speak up about it. But as the weeks seemed to drag on his temper began to flare more often, his sentences getting even shorter than they already were, his words sharp and vindictive.

You let it slide until he was rude to a merchant in a Bespin market, demanding more food rations than what he was being offered. Mando had left the market with so much dried meat and canned vegetables that it was falling out of his satchel, leaving a breadcrumb trail of bantha-in-a-can as he stormed back to the ship.

He was eating more often, too, squirreling himself away from your campfires or tucking himself up in either his sleeping cubby or the cockpit; whichever was further away from you at the time. You had your own space in the upstairs part of the Crest where he’d strung a ramshackle hammock for you, but it was so close to her reactors that you frequently woke up sweaty whenever you were in hyperspace.

On one such occasion you decided to sneak over to the ladder hatch when he thought you were sleeping, carefully peeking into the hold below. You could see him in his alcove, but just barely, only his back visible to you from your vantage point. He was eating, a lot. You watched his back and shoulders heave with each desperate bite of food, gorging himself as if he’d been lost in the desert for weeks.

The next cycle he kept his back to you almost constantly, like he was trying to hide something from view, but there were very little private spaces in the ship, especially while the stars streaked by overhead. Try as he might, he couldn’t hide his secret from your prying eyes, though you weren’t surprised with what you saw after watching him eat like there was no tomorrow.

He was gaining weight.

It was just a little at first, maybe just an illusion brought on by some extra layers of clothing; hyperspace was chilly, after all. However it soon became obvious as his extra warmth began to pudge over his belt and upset his armor that it wasn’t all fluff. You checked the larder after he went up to the cockpit to work on the navigation, and you were alarmed to find that almost half of your rations were already used up after having left Bespin only three cycles ago.

Something was definitely up with your partner.

You were watching him now from where you sat on one of the supply crates, toying with a vibroblade while he rigorously cleaned a plate of his armor, his back turned to you. His beskar was spotless, nary a drop of blood or spec of dust remained. He was just trying to distract himself from his newfound curves, but you were starting to get frustrated.

It was time to get to the bottom of this.

“Hey, are you feeling alright? You’ve been acting-”

“I’m fine.” he barked, the aggression behind his words making you jump. You weren’t afraid of him, or he of you. Your partnership was mutually beneficial and respected, and it wasn’t like him to be so short with you in close quarters. You weren’t having any of it.

“That’s crap and you know it, something's up with you, I can tell. You wanna talk about it?” Though he wasn’t looking your way, you cast your eyes at his pudge muffin, hoping he would catch your implications without you having to put it into words.

He said nothing, instead he rose from his seat and hurried up the ladder to the flight deck, sealing the airlock behind him.

You didn’t see him again until the ship dropped from hyperspace.

It was a quiet couple of days, and fucking boring too. Mando didn’t even come down to use the fresher or grab food, which made you nervous after seeing him stress eating like he had been. The Crest touched down on Jedha not far from an enormous crater that the Empire had put there in its heyday, but even when the engines went quiet, the blast door remained sealed.

“Mando? You still alive in there?” You asked tentatively with your ear pressed to the door, rapping your knuckles against the durasteel.

“Fine.”

“Are you coming out?”

There was a long pause, then: “...No.”

You grumbled and donked your head against the door. “Are you gonna make me go get this bounty myself?” He didn’t answer, which unfortunately meant the answer to your question was ‘yes’. You sighed heavily like you’d heard him do innumerable times. “You suck. Do you need anything before I head out?”

“No, thank you verd’ika.”

He was still alive, and talking, so those were both good signs, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with him during your entire hunt. The bail jumper you were after came quietly, which on a regular day would make you angry that you had even wasted fuel for such a lame chase, but you were anxious to get back to your partner.

You marched the delinquent up the ramp and goaded them into the freezer, filling the little cabin with carbonite fog. Though you were making a hell of a racket, you still hollered up the ladder before climbing it, only to find the cockpit empty. Nervously you searched the upper floor, checking everywhere from your hammock to the fuselage, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Jumping down the ladder, you quickly scanned the hold, only to realize that you’d run right past him. The door to his cubby was closed, like it always was even when he wasn’t in it, but outside on the floor near the entrance were piles of empty food tins. Horrified, you checked the larder, your eyes going all the way to the bottom of the crate. He ate everything!

“Mando! I’m back! Open up!” You yelled, pounding your fist on the door, not giving a flying fuck if he was asleep. Something was very, very wrong.

“You’re back already?” He called, his voice weak and hoarse behind the door, making your blood run cold. Oh Maker no, don’t tell me he’s sick.

“Yeah, and I’m worried about you! Open this damn door before I rip it off its rails.”

“You need to leave. You can’t be here.”

“‘Scuse me? Fucker I live here! I’m not-”

“Please, you’re not safe.” He pleaded, his voice sounded broken and desperate, like he was trying to choke something back.

“Not safe? Mando you’re not making any sense, I already took care of the bounty, they-”

“You’re not safe from me!”

A weird mix of emotions flooded through you, first the worry for the health of your partner, the confusion at his panic, and suddenly the rage that burned behind your eyes at the mere notion of him thinking you couldn’t peel him apart like a can of sardines.

You’d had enough.

“Fuck you, chum bucket, this ends right now! Hope you’ve got pants on because I’m coming in!”

“No! Don’t, please!”

“HERE I COME!” You bellowed as you slammed your fist into the glowing button panel on the wall, deaf to his fretful protests. The metal grate rattled as it rolled upwards, and briefly your eyes caught the back of his head right before his helmet sank down over the dark curls that he kept secret. The fact that he even had hair was the least startling thing of all.

What hit you first was the smell.

Inside the sleeping cubby where the Mandalorian was hurriedly scuttling into the deepest reaches, the pungent scent of...something hurtled through your synapses. It didn’t stink, quite the opposite, it smelled delicious. Warm and rich, like honey on fruit sitting out on a beautiful summer day, the alien aroma making your mouth water.

“What the fuck is that smell?” you roared at the man huddled as far away from you as he could get, his body lost to the shadows behind the scattering of armor he had discarded. You didn’t like that one bit, feeling something akin to pity at his doubled-over, armorless frame. You sniffed the air again, taking deep, greedy inhalations and trying to decipher what the fuck was going on. “Are you eating starfruit?! You fuckhole! You’re snacking without me!”

“Please leave me alone.” He grumbled, wedging himself even harder against the back wall. “I’m fine, really, I just want to be alone.”

“Well that’s just too fuckin’ bad, you’re sick, and the least you could do is tell me what’s wrong. I have a right to know if my partner is gonna up and die on me.” He pleaded again, his voice sounding whiny even through his vocorder, but you were having none of it. “I’m coming in.”

“Dammit all, why won't you leave me alone?!” He was yelling now, but in his anger he turned enough towards you that you could see his front, making you gasp.

Big.

“Holy fucking shit, Mando, are you… are you pregnant?!” Hidden by his broad backside no longer, his protruding belly caught the light, jiggling a bit when he wrapped his arms around it.

“No! I mean… sorta…”

“The fuck do you mean sorta?!” you were screaming now, blown away by his swollen guts and the fact that he was very much not pregnant only a few days ago. “What the hell is that then?!”

He was caught now, you’d seen his shame and there was no going back. “They’re… they’re my eggs.”

You stood a moment, staring at him while your mouth flopped uselessly like a dying fish. Welp, there’s your answer, he is not human. There were lots of sentient species in this great big galaxy you called home, many of which produced offspring via eggs, so you weren’t as surprised by that as you were by the suddenness of it. Of... him.

Mando rubbed at his belly, curling in on himself as if doing so would shrink him down into nothingness where he could disappear into oblivion. “Please, it’ll pass, I’ve just… I’ve never had anyone around me while I...grmph... deal with it.”

His groan of pain broke your stare, pumping determination into your legs along with the burn of adrenaline. “Do… do you need help? Is there anything I can do for you?” You leaned forward into the alcove, reaching for him. “Are you in pain?”

“...I-I’m f-fine.” He shirked away from you, avoiding your touch. “Happens every couple of years, just...hmmph… it’s not usually… so much.”

Now you were just plain fascinated, climbing up slowly on your hands and knees, trying to be delicate. “Mando, I’m your partner, I’m not just gonna stand around while you suffer. Tell me what I can do to help.” The warrior flinched hard when your fingers found his shoulder, reflexively protecting his belly. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Cyar’ika, please, I don’t want to...hmmph… do anything that I-I’ll regret.”

“You already ate all our fucking food, what more could you do to piss me off?” You said with a laugh, trying to break the tension. Carefully you brushed your hand along his clothed shoulder, a thin smile dancing over your lips when you felt him shudder.

“You shouldn’t touch me, I’m dangerous.”

“You ain’t shit, and I’ve seen how you’ve stiched my wounds closed, you won’t hurt me. I know you.”

“No you don’t!” He screamed, flipping around all the way to try and shoo you out of the cubby, but his hefty gut kept him rooted in place. You couldn’t help but stare at his rounded middle, his flack coat straining to keep zipped shut as the weight of him wobbled delightfully. It made you laugh.

“Mando! You’re gonna be a m... da... parent! You’re gonna be a parent! Why didn’t you tell me?! I would have baked you a cake.”

“It’s.. it’s never been this bad.” he stuttered, consigning himself to the fact that he was stuck with you. “I grow a clutch every year or so, but it’s usually just a handful of... them.” he hissed with an air of disgust, shame creeping into his voice. “They pass without much issue, but it’s never been this much.”

“What do the other Mandalorians do when this happens?”

He shook his head, guarding his middle. “Mandalorian isn’t a race, it’s a creed. The Mandalorians rescued me after an army of droids killed my parents and everyone else in my village. I… I don’t know what species I am, and neither does my clan. There’s no record of my village, or where they found me, and I can’t find anything on the holonet about… this.” His visor tilted down to his tummy. “I might be the last of my kind.”

“Mando, that's terrible, but I’m sure there’s more of you somewhere. There’s gotta be! Maybe if you took off your helmet I could see-”

“No, helmet stays on. I don’t need to add the indignity of a broken creed to this mess. Now please, mesh’la I’m begging you, lock me in here and let me ride this out alone. I don’t know if I could live with myself if I hurt you.”

You scuttled closer on your knees until you were right up against him, cautiously reaching out towards his swell. His visor snapped at you, his body flinching harder into the corner, but he was trapped. “Why do you think you’ll hurt me?” You whispered as your palm met the straining fabric cradling his shameful secret.

He grabbed your wrist so hard you felt your bones grind from the strength of his grip. “Because…” he growled, the timbre of it so low you felt a shiver run down your spine. “Because I don’t know what I am, but I know I need to put these eggs somewhere, and I want...I need to put them… inside…” He trailed off when a painful contraction shook his body, making him let go of you to hold himself together. “Get out now! It’s starting… please I can handle this alone but if you’re near me… I don’t know what I’ll do!”

“Shut’cher gob and tell me what to do, and don’t tell me to leave because I won’t!” You didn’t know jack shit about human births, let alone alien gestation, but you’d been through some fucked up situations, what’s one more for good measure? “I’m guessing you need to get your pants off.” His breathing was heavy, his helmet tilting with each laboured heave, but he nodded and started to fumble with the zipper of his trousers.

Your heart leapt to your throat. In the darkness of your hammock you’d imagined what it would be like to undress him, taking each of his beskar plates off and trailing your fingers down his tight clothes, revealing the man underneath like unwrapping a gift. With your fingers lost between your legs you’d pictured his muscular shoulders and broad chest, maybe even a trail of dark hair that led you all the way down his beefy abdomen to his thick, heavy cock. You’d had to bite down on the corner of your blanket when you thought of him pinning you to the wall or bending you over the dashboard, stuffing you full of his length while he groaned his praises in your ears until you were soaked.

This was not at all what you had imagined.

His gloves and his girth were giving him a hard time, so diligently you stepped in to help him undress. Your nimble fingers found the button and zipper with ease, the heat of his groin making your cheeks flush rosy pink, and then red when you pulled the zipper across the bulge in his pants and flooded the tiny nook with the perfume of his sex.

The hair surprised you, you didn’t think that an egg-bearing creature would even have curls, but there they were. Dark brown and soft against your fingertips, growing from lovely, sun-bronze skin, but that was the last of his human traits from there on. Ultimately, you were expecting a cock, horrified by the implications of what that meant in this situation, but as the zipper’s teeth continued to split, your eyes were greeted with something that made your guts flip.

It was fucking blue.

The thing sitting heavily between his legs was the prettiest ocean blue you had ever seen, with coils of deep indigo veins running up it’s length between bands of bioluminesce. Long, thick, and glowing, Mando’s half-hard trouser meat sprang out of his open pants, a relieved sigh wheezing through his modulator. It was shaped like a wang dangler all the way up to the head, but there it was something else.

At his tip a circle of petal-shaped protrusions cinched together like the blossom of a flower right before it bloomed. The knobbed end of his thingy wept with clear juices, beading deliciously from between each little bud. Your eyes were locked to a particularly fat drop of precum as it slicked down his length to his base where you found another feast for your eyes.

A hole.

He didn’t have balls, you guessed they were somewhere inside him, instead he had a fat, juicy cunt, his quivering cock growing from where a clit would be on a human. It was just as alien as his length, a dark cobalt that lightened to vibrant teal around sharp teeth that lined his widely spread folds. Those rightfully made you nervous, and fucking confused. What the hell are those supposed to latch on to? Me?!

“I’m disgusting, I know.” He whispered, turning away from you to study the wall while you studied his excitables.

“What? No you’re not, you’re… you’re beautiful.” He snapped back towards you, his visor searching your star-struck eyes for the hint of a lie, but there wasn’t one. He was looking at you, but you weren't looking at him, you were looking at him, straight through his groin into his vulnerable soul. There was just so much, and you wanted to touch all of it. Reflexively you licked your lips, wondering if he tasted as good as he smelled. Your fingers crept forward, hovering inches from his cerulean length. “Can I?”

A sharp inhale echoed in the cubby, followed by a stark nod. “Be gentle… it’s... argh… sensitive!”

“Shhh, Mando, I’ve got you. I’m gonna take good care of you.” Your fingertips met his heated flesh, making him shudder and groan. His strange length twitched from your touch, making another pearl of precum shimmer from the tip. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking the velvety length that weighed heavily against your palm. His helmet hit the wall with a deep, guttural moan, sending molten waves of heat to your own growing need.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck mesh’la...your hands are amazing.” The man purred, letting his arms fall from his belly to his sides where his fists tangled in the threadbare sheet. His hips thrust upwards into your slow tugs, rutting into your palm. In the tight quarters the mouthwatering scent of honeyed fruit grew stronger until you were sucking down your own spit to keep it from flooding your mouth.

“Hehe, yeah? You like this?” You flicked your wrist in languid spirals, running your thumb over the weeping blossom to drag warm slick down his length and towards your second goal. His toothy slit parted for you as you got closer, the pearly white fangs curling away from you safely. With one hand still on his beef, you rubbed your fingertips around his flushed hole, sinking a digit down to the knuckle.

“Yes.” he moaned breathlessly, his womb jiggling when he convulsed from your touch. You sank another finger inside, scissoring him open while you fisted his cock. “K-keep doing that and... and…” His heels scooted on the mattress when he clenched around you, his swelling length pulsating in your hand. A needy whine busted out of his modulator, and between your sunken digits you felt something grow.

“Go ahead, Mando, come on my hand, or in my hand, I don’t care. That’s a good boy.” He bucked into your steady thrusts, lost in the combination of filling and being filled. His walls fluttered around your fingers, and you felt something press against you when he bore down, but instead of something popping out of his cunt, something went up his length.

*Pop!*

From the tip of his spear, a bright orange ball sprang from him, surprising you so much you let go of his throbbing shaft and pulled your fingers from his slit. Excitedly you plucked the egg from where the halo of petals parted, presenting the orb to you like a priceless gem. “You did it! Look, Mando, it’s a… ball! Congratulations.” You were beaming, so proud of yourself for midwifing him through the process, but he was shaking his head.

“There’s more… and… and I’m starting to get desperate. You got me started, I can take it from here. Thank you for your help.”

“I’m not leaving til you’re done, but let me go find a bucket or something to… oh no!” In your hand the soft shelled egg started to dissolve and wither in the dry air, turning into goo that dribbled down your arm. “Oh shit! Oh shit Mando I’m so sorry! I-I don’t know w-what happened!”

“No no… It's alright.” He shook his head, bringing a hand up to caress his swell. “They never make it. It’s ok though, it's not like they’re fertilized. Please leave me now, your hands aren’t going to tide me over for long, and I don’t want to do something I’ll regret.”

“You keep saying that! I don’t understand, why do you think that you’ll-”

“Because I want to breed you.” The singular black eye of his visor snapped viciously towards you, making you pale. “I’m sorry, but it’s all I can think about. It’s been getting worse the closer I’ve gotten to my heat, but I don’t want to do that to you, I respect you too much. Please… forgive me.” He looked away from you shamefully, but his luminous length was still pulsing with the rapid beating of his heart. “I think being around you is why I’m so full, you’re just so damn beautiful… a-and I want you.”

Maybe it was the sickenly-sweet spice that he was putting off, or the cum soaking your hands, or even the vulgar fantasies that you imagined to yourself in the night, but you were intrigued. “You wanna do what now?”

“Breed you.” He growled, his voice so dark and sinful everything inside you clenched around nothing. “Fucking stars ever since you stabbed the cantina table I’ve wanted to be inside you. Feel your pretty little pussy squeezing me, hear those sweet moans you make when you’re alone at night… yes I can hear you. You’re louder than you think you are. But I want to be the one making you scream.” His growls turned to forced laughter. “I wish I’d gotten to before...this.”

“I don’t mind this…” You hummed, dragging your fingers along his velvety length, but he caught your wrist again, shaking his head.

“Stop, before I can’t hold back anymore.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to hold back.” You batted your lashes at him and bit your lip, leaning seductively towards his hunkered body. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t know what I’d do to you, what my… ugh… eggs… would do to your body.”

“Maybe we should… find out?”

“You don’t know what you're asking.”

“Neither do you.” With that you rolled forward to kiss at his big blue eel, making him curse out your name and grab a fistful of your hair.

“Mesh’la…”

You hummed and lapped at his crown, his nectar tasting even better than it smelled. Sweet and succulent, driving you crazy with need. Your venomous tongue could be so kind when it wanted to be, swirling around his knobbled head and flicking at his frenulum. Beneath you he was a mess, writhing and bucking with desperation. Lips slick with spit, you sank your mouth as far down as you could take him without gagging, fisting the rest with one hand and teasing his cunt with the other.

Fingers digging into your scalp, Mando fought the urge to fuck your throat raw, your obscene sucking threatening to toss him right over the edge. You hollowed your cheeks and spun your tongue, lapping around each sensitive bean and plunging into his slit to drink him down.

His muscles swelled and clenched with another pass, and you barely were able to pull your mouth away when a new sphere spat out his tip, rolling away from you to melt elsewhere. “Mando, they’re going to waste, what are we going to do about that?”

“Take your fucking clothes off so I can fuck them into you, pretty girl.” He was gone, the husk of his voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. “Let me breed you properly, make you mine. Show you what it means to be mated by a Mandalorian.”

You obeyed, rocking back on your haunches to peel your shirt away, releasing your breasts into the hot, steamy space. The black swath of void where his eyes should be drank in the sight of you as if you were the last glass of water on Tatooine, his hand coming up to pinch at your pert nipple. “These are beautiful. I’ve dreamed about these for so long, but they’re so much better in person.”

“They taste better, too.” You crawled over top of him, your knees in between his, waving the heavy dewdrops in front of his armored face. “You wanna?”

“My creed…”

“Party pooper. Fine, then you better help me open up, you’re packin’ more than I think I can fit.” You’d taken lovers before, once you’d even taken a Wookie on a drunken dare, and if it wasn’t for the persistent wet dog smell it might have been the best sex you’d ever had. But Mando was thick, and even thicker when his cock swelled to push out an egg.

“Are you really ok with this? You’re not just saying…”

“Mando~” You purred, pressing your softness against his pulsating length, shivering when you felt his fangs scrape your thighs. “Breed me. They’ll just melt back out anyway, what’s a little...fun?”

He reached a hand up tentatively to your face, his helmet shaking slightly from side to side while he hunted in your eyes for any resistance, any clue that you were just saying that to make him feel better, but he found none.

“How did I get so lucky…”

“You’re about to get even more lucky.” You teased, taking his hand from your cheek to pry the black and yellow glove off, chucking it somewhere behind you. The flesh of his hand matched the flesh of his groin, a soft golden tone that looked like it was kissed by the sun, but not once had you ever seen him bare an inch. It was also very human, looking much like your own, save for the length and thickness of his fingers and the dark hair that grew from his knuckles. They were very much the hands of a man.

Yay!

Your pants fell away next, disappearing out of the cubby and onto the floor with the collection of empty ration tins and discarded armor. Naked as the day you were born, you clambered over him and flopped against his side, letting your legs fall open. “Touch me, Mando, get me nice and ready to be bred.” He growled against you, rolling on his side and cradling you to his chest so he could easily sink his fingers into your fluttering heat.

“Fucking stars, you’re soaked. This all for me?” You nodded and whined, your eyes rolling back when he dove one finger inside, then a second, curling them upwards to find that hidden patch of nerves you could never really reach on your own. “Gonna get you nice and open, make you cum so you can take my clutch. Would you like that, mesh’la, want me to fill you up? Swell your belly full?”

You mewled at the debauchery of it all, blissed out of your mind as he finger fucked you relentlessly. His fingers sank into you all the way to the knuckle, his thumb drawing tight, diligent circles on your clit. Mando snaked his free arm under your neck, pulling you in close to his muscular body and leaning his helmet against your brow. The cold metal burned against your sweating forehead, the steam of his breath coiling out from under the sharp iron edge with every ragged breath.

“That’s it, come for me, beautiful. Almost there.” Your nails dug into his clothed shoulders and made you realize he was way more dressed than you were. Need to fix that. With shaking knees you squirmed and writhed on his slick hand until he brought you over the edge, your walls trying to break his fingers as you came, drenching the thin sheets. “Good girl, such a perfect little cunt. Give me one more, cyar’ika.” All his gentleness evaporated as he thrust into you, his thumb pressed to your sensitive button and making you fall apart all over again.

“Fuck me, Mando, please! I want you in me, you’re not the only one with wet dreams, y’know.” He rumbled a laugh and pulled his arm out from under your neck and his fingers from your sopping mess, dragging the wet of it across your bare thigh. Hauling himself up, he moved until he was between your legs, pulling his remaining glove off and working to undo his flack.

With bated breath you watched him hurriedly undress, wondering what other fun alien treats he was keeping from you. As the dark fabric fell away, your eyes were gifted with the sight of his body, though besides the wandering blue tiger stripes and his obvious non-human bits, he was remarkably close to a man.

Except for the parts of him that were glowing.

Strings of faint teal lights followed the flow of his body, mixed intermittently with yellow stars. It wasn’t enough to illuminate the little alcove, but it was a beautiful sight nonetheless, a constellation of stars you could call your very own.

His chest was wide and muscular, a trail of dark brown hair dusting down his sternum and over the swell of his middle. His arms and shoulders looked like tree trunks, ribbons of countless scars marring his flesh with shimmering whites and pinks. Pushing his pants all the way off gave you an even better view, though he had considerably more glow streaks further down his legs, spanning from the sapphire spire around his hips.

He was fucking gorgeous.

What does his face look like, then?

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you, right?” He asked sweetly, grabbing his beast and dragging the leaking head against your thirsty little cunt. You bucked your hips up to him, trying to notch him in your entrance, but he pressed his tip into your clit to make you writhe. “Tell me, I need to hear it.”

“Yes, Mando, now please please fuck...me!!” He snapped forward and thrust his appendage into you, bottoming right out even though his full tummy was in the way. He held himself still, his body shivering with delight as your excited walls rippled around him. Deep inside you felt the little buds at his tip teasing at the tight ring of muscle that protected your innermost sanctum, politely asking for entry.

“Fuck-ing Maker, I knew you would feel good, but...ah… so much better than I ever imagined.” You giggled at him, reaching out and rubbing the taut flesh of his abdomen where it sat heavily against your own, rocking your hips side to side. His fingers dug into the skin of your knees with a broken curse, trying to hold you still. “Keep doing that and I’m gonna…”

“What? This?” You arched your hips into his, trying to coax him into gear. “I didn’t know you were such a tease, tinman.” His helmet vibrated with a growl before he was sliding himself out, making sure you felt every inch of his length drag along your walls. The head of it almost managed to drop out, sitting tantalizingly at your gates before thrusting into you with reckless abandon.

You shrieked, impaled on his otherworldly spire again and again, the noise of it wetly echoing in the cubby. Above you he grunted with the strain, hooking his elbows under your knees and going to town. You were helpless, head rolling back, eyes fluttered shut as he filled you over and over again, moaning out his name.

Though he was lost in the heat of the moment, he wished the name on your lips was his real name, the one he had sequestered away when he took his oaths. Din. He fantasized about it in the night, the short syllable tumbling from your full lips, wet from sucking him dry. Din! He wanted to snuff out the sound of it with his own mouth, capturing your tongue and tasting you fully, plundering the hot wet hole that would so beautifully sing his song.

“Din!”

But Mando would have to do.

For now.

Both of you could feel he was getting close to something, his thrusts quickening with his breath. You felt your heartbeat gallop in your chest, thundering against the walls of its cage with excitement. He was gasping, struggling to pull oxygen in through the iron that protected his face. Hips snapped against yours, the slap of skin sounding obscene in the little space. You arched your back and bore down on him, your coiled muscles milking out his release.

And then you fucking felt it.

The clever little buds on his tip stuffed themselves into the cradle of your body, teasing your cervix open and leaving something behind. Inside you felt the soft little ball swell your womb sweetly, giving you a feeling of fullness you’d never experienced before. You keened from the sensation, bringing your hands up to your belly, searching for your treasure.

“Are you alright? Am I hurting you?” Mando asked urgently between broken breaths, a weathered palm coming up to caress your face. You tittered and nodded, his relieved sigh felt through your legs and stomach.

“Got any more for me, big boy?” You purred, dragging your nails through the soft hair on his bulging abdomen where he obviously did.

“You’re going to ruin me, cyar’ika.” The pulsating length stuffed inside you slid out slowly, stringing a line of precum from your slick heat to his flushed blue tip. “Get on your knees and I’ll show you how much more there is.”

Scrambling out from under him, you flipped yourself over like a slutty little pancake, presenting your ass in front of him to feast on with his eyes. The rough pads of his fingers dug viciously into your fleshy globes, making both of you groan. “Gonna give you all of me, beautiful. Tell me you want that?” He was trying to be dirty, but the sincerity in his voice made your heart flood with honeyglow.

“I want it, tinman, I wanna be full!”

A dark, lecherous laugh rumbled behind you while he lined himself up, rubbing himself over your slit before plunging in. Stars flashed behind your eyes when he hit your deepest reaches again, making you drop to your elbows. He circled the bones of your hips with his hands, squeezing and rubbing at your waist while you adjusted to the new angle. Impatiently you clenched around him, earning yourself a stinging swat on your backside that made you squeal.

“Bad girl, you have to wait.” He growled behind you, making you whine and earning yourself another spanking that was followed by a soothing palm. “You gonna be a good girl while I breed you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“‘Scuse me?”

“-snrt!-” You were having too much fun now, begging underneath him for friction with a roll of your hips, giggling through the cock-dumb grin on your face. “I’ll be good~”

“I know you will.” He slid forward, the angle hitting something destructive inside you, and you could tell he felt it. Memorizing your insides, he rocked forward again and again, building you up higher and higher to make you squirm. Fisting the sheets you cried when the lightning cracked up your spine, your cunt squeezing the life out of him and soaking him through. Your orgasm sucked another egg from his cock, the gentle weight sitting pretty next to the first.

“More…” you mumbled into the mattress, curving your ass up and brushing the underside of his swell. “Please…”

“You’re fucking perfect, mesh’la, so perfect for me.” His voice behind you sounded wildly different, lacking the gravelly modulation you’d grown used to, replaced with a rich baritone that tied your guts up in knots. Curiosity almost got the better of you, but before you could turn around to look at his bare face he covered your eyes, his broad palm spanning the entire width of your face. “No peeking. Be a good girl or you won’t get any more.”

He set his empty helmet down by your head, giving you something to look at if you could keep your eyes open, but his filthy cadence made your eyeballs roll back til they were gawking at your brain. Mando plowed you like his life depended on it, his fuckstick swelling inside your walls with each pass of his spend.

Reaching back, you rubbed your steadily-filling middle, the weight of his brood already making you show. Your devious digits kept going, fingertips teasing around where he melded into you, your lips stretched tightly around him. He jumped when you stuffed your hand back even further, careful not to catch on his goddamn crotchteeth to finger his cunt.

“Mesh’la!” He cried, bucking into you and pushing at least three more eggs into your womb with a single thrust. Above you he curled against your spine, his belly flattening while yours continued to swell. His arms left your hips to snake up your body, crossing between your breasts like a seatbelt and hauling you up off your elbows to his chest. Buckle up, buttercup! His sweaty pecs stuck to your spine while he kissed at the side of your neck.

You wanted so badly to look.

Instead you closed your eyes and let yourself get lost in the passionate kisses he pressed to your skin, his teeth grazing the tender flesh under your jaw. The fact that he even had lips crossed a few dozen species off of your list of possibilities, and even more when you felt the tickle of facial hair. Mando’s heated kisses tracked up your throat to nibble at your ear, his thrusting getting messy behind you.

“Can you cum for me again, beautiful? I wanna feel it.” The hand between your breasts slid up to your throat, pressing ever so gently while the second found your clit and spun devious little circles. His scruffy beard scraped your shoulder as you writhed on him, tears springing to your eyes with your crashing orgasm. “Mmph, that’s my good girl. So fucking perfect!”

His hips stuttered, slapping against your ass with a final burst, the fill of him swelling your middle to capacity, bouncing with fullness. Heavy, desperate breaths puffed against your skin as he came down from his high, caressing you with his hands and the sharp point of his chin; mumbling praises in your ear. “I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful, look at you…”

At his purring you flickered an eye open, looking down past your breasts at where you were swollen with his clutch as if you were swollen with child. His broad palms danced along the taut flesh, sliding from your precious tummy to the drops of your breasts, his hums of contentment rumbling between you. His chest and abdomen were flush with your spine, his body returned to its natural shape while yours had changed so drastically.

Between your legs his spent cock throbbed, making your combined arousal drip down onto the destroyed mattress when it softened and released. You whined from the loss, whining louder when he sneaked his fingers inside, feeling your stretched walls and musing about how wonderful you felt.

You reached forward for his helmet, handing it back to him and trying not to look at the warped reflection of his face in its sloping surfaces. He took it from you gently, letting it sink over his face so you could get off of your knees. You flopped heavily over on your butt, sitting upright and petting your full womb with a blissed out look on your face.

He laid next to you, holding you close to his body as if you were his cute little wife expecting your first baby together, and not a pair of interspecies hunters giving in to your primordial needs. You leaned against him, sighing contently and watching his serpent retreat into his body, the rows of teeth biting together and showing you why he didn’t wear codpiece with his armor.

“That’s fuckin’ weird, dude.” You laughed, brushing a fingertip along the glistening enamel.

He winced behind you. “I know, I’m sorr-”

“No, I like it.” you crooned, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. “That was fun. How often did you say this happens?”

“About once a year, but… uh… I can still get hard, without a clutch, if that’s what you’re asking?” You nodded with a laugh, curling up against his side so your full womb rested on his hip. He sighed contentedly, drawing circles on your belly with his fingers. “How does this feel? Does it hurt?”

“No, not at all, actually feels good. Feels full. I like it, I’m almost sad that it’s not gonna last.”

“Me too, you look so good like this. I could get used to it.” You hummed in agreement, shifting your legs apart so that when the eggs withered and turned to goo they could easily make their way out.

Should be any second now.

The two of you waited, laying together in post-coital bliss, just enjoying the feel of each other’s bodies, tracing scars and stars, exploring the wonders you’d kept secret from each other.

You waited.

And waited.

The minutes ticked by, at first it was a blessing, giving you time to bask in the afterglow together, but as the minutes turned to quarter hours, then halfs, you started to get worried. “Mando? I can still feel them, they’re not breaking down.”

“I’m sure they will, they always do.”

“Ok…”

They didn’t.

Hours went by, and even after waddling to the fresher shower and trying to squat them out, the eggs remained. You got washed up, half morbidly, half exuberantly watching the way the fresher water dripped from your belly while you cleaned up.

Outside the shower you toweled yourself off, taking extra steps to dry under the swell of your womb, but you struggled to reach all the way around. Mando knocked on the door politely before letting himself in, dressed only in his helmet and pants. Dutifully he took the towel from you and got to the places you couldn't reach while you were carrying his potential young.

It was surprisingly intimate, maybe even more so than being stuffed full of his length. He started on your legs, between your thighs and up to their apex, then softly wiped at your tummy and hips. His deft hands dragged the towel under each breast, then your shoulders and arms, then lastly your neck; draping the wet fabric around you like a cloak when he saw your bunching brows. You looked nervous.

“We’ll figure it out, mesh’la, I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” He stated with determination, brushing his thumb down the curve of your cheek and turning your eyes to meet his visor. Your hair was still wet, and now so were your eyes, the first twinges of fear creeping into their corners. He didn’t like what he saw. “Close your eyes, lovely girl.”

You did, squeezing back the mist that was starting to form. He let go of you, and you heard the sound of something heavy and metallic being set down on the sink. The towel around your shoulders was lifted over your head, draping it over your face. You were about to give him hell, mad that he would want to hide your face when you were clearly getting emotional, but instead you felt the wet fabric being lifted as he joined you underneath.

Then he kissed you.

Warm, petal-soft lips pressed against your cold wet ones, suddenly surprising you before you melted into him. His kiss was as gentle as his hands that were making their way up to your jaw, holding you steady while he slotted his mouth to yours. He felt human, the edges of his teeth dull like yours, thankfully not sharp like the ones between his legs. Tasted human, too.

You kissed him back, darting your tongue out with an experimental flick, licking his plush lower lip. He inhaled sharply, caught off guard by your forwardness. His fingers coiled around the back of your head, tangling in your wet hair as his kisses grew in intensity. The smooth muscle of his mouth danced with your own, letting you both taste each other for the first time.

“Ner cyar’ika, I’ve waited so long for this.” he purred against your lips, his words heavy with adoration. He kissed you again, pulling you into himself hungrily and tickling your nose with his mustache. Your own hands came up, slowly dragging over the expanse of his chest to the sinewy length of his neck, and finally to the edge of his jaw.

“Can I touch your face, Mando? I won’t look with my eyes.” He nodded against your lips, his nose bumping the side of yours. Cautiously you wandered your fingertips along the edge of his jaw, the stiff bristles catching under your nails. He shivered with need when you scratched him, carding through his scruff like you were taming a massif.

His sharp jawline led you up his cheeks, their softness dusted with erratic bristles. You ran your thumbs under his eyes, exploring his cheekbones and the creases that bordered his large eyes. Pressing your forehead to his and pulling your lips away, you circled your thumbs down the sides of his well-defined nose to the line of hair above his lips. The creases that your hands found told you he wasn’t a young man, but he probably wasn’t too far beyond your age either.

And you imagined him to be very handsome.

It wasn’t until your hands found his ears that you remembered he wasn’t the same species as you. They were pointed, and sensitive if his little moans of pleasure were anything to go by.

“I don’t ever want you to see those, they’re ug- oh!” You cut off his self depreciation to tilt his head between your hands, pressing a kiss to each of his ears with a seductive puff of steam. “St-stop, you’re giving me goosebumps.”

“Stop being so mean to yourself, buckethead, only I can be the judge of that, and I bet they're cute!” He laughed, the sound warm and brassy, but not enough to distract you from your current predicament. “What… what are we going to do about… this.” You took each of his hands in yours and set them on your full belly, letting him caress his handiwork.

He sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead in the dark of the towel, his lashes brushing your skin when he dropped his brow to yours. You heard his lips part with a smile, imagining the way the wrinkles around his eyes would bunch, wistfully hoping that one day you could see them for yourself.

“Mesh’la I-… I have no idea."

Next->

If you liked this fic, check out Garden of Ishtar! It's chapter 9 in a series but can be read stand-alone. Enjoy~

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[qyllenhaal]

Good Wives Club [6]

Lee Bodecker x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 4.9k.

Spin-off to American Pie

Chapter Five || Chapter Seven

Summary: It’s been more than a year since she’s escaped the ghost of her past but life is never fair to a girl like her. Lee doesn’t care that she has a husband, a nice house, and sugary fake friends, he wants what’s rightfully his.

Content (this chapter): Infidelity, period-typical misogyny, bodyshaming, Lee gets a bit mean towards the end, suggestive situation (18+ only, MINORS DNI), fingering.

"Are you meetin' up with Y/n...and Suzy"

"No, not today honey."

Lee would not stop asking Florence about what plans she has. Specifically he asked if Y/n was included in them. He lost interest anytime she said which Florence took notice of the second time he asked about her. It makes her seethe every time that names come out of his mouth. He says her name with ease too, like it's been in his mouth before. She wants to write this off as sheer paranoia, but it can't be a coincidence that he began to ask about her more after they were secretly talking to each other in the store, and after she brought over those treats for them. Florence felt like she had egg on her face when she opened the container expecting to see something lackluster, but it was the recipe she had been struggling with, perfectly packaged and extremely delicious. Lee had polished off a handful of them by the time Florence got home which meant Y/n dropped them off while she was out of the house. Her mind was imaginative about what the two could have done while alone, but she settled for the version where Lee was short with Y/n, accepted the container, and she left quickly after.

"Why do you keep asking about her?" Florence's frustration with her husband caused her to slip up. She meant it to be a question she kept to herself, but she was thinking out loud. Lee didn't look too happy that she was questioning him.

"Isn't she your little project you're working on? You kept talking about it and suddenly stopped. It's natural for a man to be curious about what his wife seems to be obsessed with."

Curious.

Lee has never been curious about anything regarding her friends and social life. He's never asked about Suzy, Martha, Terry, or any other woman she's been close to over the years. He always said he couldn't be bothered with "women's gossip" even when it wasn't gossip. All of a sudden he wants to know about some girl they met months ago? Bullshit.

It doesn't help that Lee keeps talking about the treats she brought over, wondering if Y/n made more and if she could bring them over. Lee was getting sloppy with fawning over his former mistress and he was making his wife suspicious. Florence hasn't been jealous in years, but she can't help herself when Y/n seems to be her husband's favorite topic these days. She's heard of women losing their husbands to younger girls time and time before. She has no child to tie Lee down either, so if he really wanted to leave her for Y/n then he could. But, she has to remember that if Y/n's husband doesn't think she's up to par, how could Lee? His line of work is much more demanding than Lou's and he requires an extra kind of care. The long hours leave him tired and hungry. He comes home to a warm meal, clean house, and a bath if he desires it. Florence is always ready to comply with what he needs like a good wife should. She's put years and her entire self into the union. No one knows Lee and his habits quite like she does, and some young girl isn't going to ruin that.

"I don't have any plans to see her any time soon," she says as if she's unbothered. Lee never notices the small hints of annoyance in her voice anymore. Florence has either mastered hiding it well in her tone (although it does poke through sometimes), or Lee just doesn't care to address it anymore. "But, I'm thinking about hosting another dinner and inviting Suzy and Dan this time."

Lee groaned and stopped fixing the collar of his shirt in the mirror. He doesn't like when Florence throws these dinners to show off. Lee did enjoy them when they first moved into this house. He had a huge sense of pride about moving up the ranks of life; he had a wife and new house to prove his success. Now that he's older and the dust has settled in this house, and marriage, he feels bothered by his wife's shenanigans. However, he wasn't going to talk her out this plan since it involved Y/n. He's been thinking about her a lot and her kiss left a sweet taste in his mouth.

"We can't have it this week — I'm workin' late all week."

"Next Thursday?"

Lee nods in agreement at the suggestion. Thursdays have proved to be his lucky day. Most of the good luck he's ran into on a Thursday has been purely coincidental. He met Y/n for the first time on a Thursday, and it was always a sure thing that she would be working the bar if it was a Thursday night.

Florence turned to her husband who was not putting on his work jacket. The days were getting colder and she wished he'd wear the heavier jacket that gives him more warmth. She searches for any ounce of excitement in his face about these plans including Y/n. She finds none which cools off her insecurity for a moment.

"I'm thinking about having everyone bring a dish," she eyes her husband intently as she speaks. Florence has a sharp tongue and she can act straight-up like a high school bully. "Suzy can bring over mac n' cheese. Y/n can bring...something — but I'm not sure if she could make something that's edible."

"Don't say stuff like that Flo," his tone is nonchalant, but him even opening his mouth to speak to defend her felt like a blow.

"You heard her husband Lee. The girl can't cook."

"She made those little cookies and they were good. You're being too hard on her. I thought you were trying to help her?"

Although his voice didn't change at all, Florence felt like he was becoming defensive over this random girl. She folded her arms like she was a child being told 'no' and looked away from her husband who hasn't looked at her for almost 30 minutes now.

Never in a million years would Lee have given her a pass for being a lackluster wife. He would complain about small mistakes she made, and what would she do? Learn to never do it again. Lee didn't seem to extend that to Y/n. Maybe it's because he's older now and doesn't care as much, or maybe it's the fact that Y/n isn't his wife. He did however tell Lou that he'd make sure Florence was on it. As a man, Florence expected Lee to sympathize with Lou more than anyone. They had their talk about Y/n not doing what she's supposed to be doing. So, she's not sure why Lee thinks it's fine that Y/n can just be mediocre. He's judged other women before, Suzy being one of them when she brought over a fruitcake that was hard as a brick during one of the holiday parties. Lee does not like anything to be mediocre or half-assed, that's why Florence worked so hard to be perfect in his eyes. One container of cookies does not atone a person.

He didn't say anything particularly glowing about Y/n, but he minus well has sense he's not criticizing her like Florence sought out for him to do. Maybe she wasn't being harsh enough when talking about Y/n. She made one passing comment, hoping to get her husband to agree with her so she could really go hard on her, but she had failed. She stands there feeling stupid while he goes on about getting his day started.

"I gotta get to work Flo."

He put on his hat, kissed his wife on the cheek, and left for work without another word.

Not even a kiss could break Florence's now icy demeanor. She was mad, but she had nothing planned today so she couldn't take her anger out on anyone else. She wouldn't be so foolish to direct her anger towards Lee. He'd nip that attitude of hers in the bud real quick. Things have been going so well that she doesn't want to sour it. That's what she's been doing for years; when she's mad at Lee, she just takes it out on someone else.

There wasn't much to do around the house to distract herself either. She had cleaned up last night and everything was the same this morning. That's the one perk of not having a child — she doesn't have to worry about cleaning up messes everyday. However, if she had a child she would at least have something to preoccupy her time and she'd feel less worried about Lee cheating on her or leaving her. They haven't had the 'child talk' in quite some time. She's been waiting for the right moment, but it never seems to be the right moment. If Y/n ends up pregnant before she does then Florence is going to be devastated.

What does Y/n have that makes Lee so nice to her? She's young and cute, but that's not enough for a man like Lee, at least that's how Florence feels. Y/n is like a deer in headlights sometimes, always stumbling over her words when someone speaks to her. She's like a little girl and Florence just can't see how any man would find that appeal. Yet she didn't have a problem not saying anything about talking to Lee in the store, nor did she have a problem saying she wouldn't fuck Lee when they were at lunch. Florence can't decide if she trusts Y/n or not at this point, but that doesn't stop her from picking up the phone to call her.

The phone rings for longer than Florence can stand before she hears Y/n's familiar voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Y/n! Just the person I wanted to talk to!"

"Hi Florence."

There was a small bout of silence following Y/n's greeting. Florence was annoyed by every single thing about the girl on the other side of the phone. From her voice and down to how she says 'hi' instead of 'hello'. Florence was nitpicking, but she's too upset to be a rational person.

"How are you today? It's quite a chilly day, so I hope you're inside keeping warm!"

"I am, thank you. I'm going to see Lou's mother today. Me and Lou haven't been feeling so well, so she's going to make us some soup. How are you today, Florence?"

"I'm fine," she tried not to sound so annoyed. She's never got to do anything like that with her mother-in-law because she died some time ago. Lee's family wasn't the most put together; his father had left when he was young, his mother became distant in her later years, and Sandy...God only knows where she's at and what she's doing with that sleazy husband of hers. "I was just calling because Lee and I are having a dinner party next Thursday and I wanted to invite you and Lou over."

"Um, I'm not sure if we'd be able to make it to Florence. I don't know how long it'll take to get over these colds, especially while Lou is still going to work."

Florence does not like being told no, but she especially hates it coming from Y/n. She doesn't have the right to tell her no, not when she's being so nice and welcoming to her when she could just shun her like every other woman in this town did. No one would look twice at her in those dingy dresses and worn out shoes. If it wasn't for Florence then no one, absolutely no one would give her the time of day. Her existence would be lonely and she'd be trapped being an awful wife in an awful marriage. There would be no way her husband would want to fill that big house of theirs with children if Y/n had continued to be so shit.

"You really should come. It's in a week from now, I'm sure whatever you and Lou have will clear up! Suzy and her husband are coming, so I would like to have you there too."

-

Y/n and Lou stand in front of the Bodeckers' house, peach cobbler in Y/n's hands. The bottom of the pan warms her hands on this cold night. Y/n decided to go with something she's good at: making sweets. She wasn't quite confident in her skills in creating main courses and side dishes, but she feels like she is improving. Florence can be a bit tough, but she does know what she's talking about. Her best skill at the moment is making desserts. It's a bonus because she knows just how much Lee likes his sweets, especially peaches. She was excited to see him after the talk they had the week prior. She got all dolled up for him, although her husband had a lot of compliments to give her. She knows that tonight she'll have both her husband and Lee's eyes on her. It makes her feel wanted, a feeling she hasn't felt in a long time.

Florence opens the door, greeting them with a warm smile before ushering her. She looks lovely and the entire house smells like food. It's so cozy inside that Y/n is envious; she wishes her house was this inviting. Sometimes she thinks Lee is an idiot for not enjoying the comfort this woman provides. But, then she opens her mouth.

"Oh. You didn't bring an actual dish?"

"I made a cobbler. Every meal can't be completed without dessert, right?"

"I guess," she's dismissive of the effort Y/n put into making that. She turns her attention towards Y/n's husband, "Lou, the men are in the dining room, you can go and join them."

"Thank you Florence." He nods his head at her before giving his wife a kiss on the cheek. Y/n wishes she didn't leave her alone with Florence.

"Come follow me to the kitchen."

Florence seems to be in a bad mood. Y/n wonders why she went through with the dinner plans if she's just going to be a bitch for the entire night. Y/n can't quite place her finger on why Florence seems to particularly be upset with her. She was treating Suzy like usual and she was gregarious once everyone sat at the dining room table.

Y/n sat right across from Lee, but it wasn't her choice. Florence didn't like it either, but she didn't want to make a big fuss about it. She assures herself that everything is fine, yet her attitude says otherwise. If only her husband would stop ogling this girl then he'd realize he's going to face the wrath of a jealous wife sooner or later. For now, it's Y/n who gets the brunt of her anger.

"I really like the mashed potatoes, Flo. The gravy is excellent! What kind did you buy?"

"Oh, I made it myself," she fawned. "It's quite easy, but if you ever need the recipe Suzy, I'm more than happy to give it to you."

"Did you make the cobbler too? It's really good," Dan asks.

"No, that was Y/n."

His eyes flash to Y/n in disbelief. He doesn't know much about her and she's always so quiet. But, from the little Suzy did mention about her she's a nice girl, just a little naïve it seems.

“It is really good Y/n,” Suzy adds.

“I would have preferred another side dish, but dessert is nice,” Florence spits. The volume of her voice was low but everyone heard her loud and clear. No one said anything about Florence’s snarky comment because they were all used to it. But, Y/n would have liked for someone to at least defend her. Her husband hadn’t interacted with Florence much of the night and Y/n was hoping that he was finally realizing what a piece of work she really was. Something must’ve happened for her facade to be cracking right in front of their faces.

“Dessert is always good to have. I think the cobbler is excellent, but that’s not surprising to hear coming from me,” Lee pats his stomach, earning a few laughs from the table. He had to take the heat off of Y/n.

“Oh, honey, don’t be so impolite at the table,” Florence groans. 

Lee shoots Y/n a look from across the table, a playful one that says ‘look how I saved you’. Y/n felt grateful, looking down at her plate to hide the smile that’s trying to break on her face. Lee notices it, but so does Florence. 

“Don’t feel bad Lee, Dan here has put on a few pounds too,” Suzy pokes at her husband. Out of all of the couples here, these two probably have the least amount of tension in their relationship.

“It’s almost winter time! It’s normal to put on a few times when it’s so cold out. And, Thanksgiving is coming up in a few weeks so it’s not like we’re going to be shedding anymore pounds until the Spring time.”

“Yes, but this has been a consistent thing with Lee. Having a treat or two is fine, but dessert isn’t always necessary.”

Y/n was shocked. She didn’t think Florence would wrap in smearing her husband in an attempt to make her feel bad for being a one-trick-pony. She wondered if Florence knew something, if Lee gave something away without even realizing it. Florence can’t know the full story or else she wouldn’t have let Y/n step into her house. Maybe it’s her wife’s intuition that’s kicking in, or she’s just done ignoring it.

Florence stayed quiet for the rest of dinner. Y/n hoped that she felt embarrassed for trying to be such a bitch and no one was entertaining her. Y/n wonders what it’s like to have so many people in your life and none of them really truly like you because you’re so hellbent on being put on top of a pedestal that doesn’t exist. Y/n is quiet, and some might even describe her as weak, but at least she is liked by the people she knows. Hell, even Lou is nicer to her these days. Even though he’s not the greatest person on Earth, Y/n doesn’t think Lee deserves someone as mean as Florence. Her comments about his weight are unnecessary; if Y/n knows he’s insecure about it, then Florence definitely knows it too but she continues to make those comments. 

The wives are in the kitchen, washing up the dishes and packaging up the food. Florence ices Y/n out and only talks to Suzy. They get so wrapped up in their conversation that they don’t notice Y/n backing away and sneaking out to the back of the house.

It’s so cold out, but the house was so stuffy and she just needed to be alone. She wasn’t the only one with the idea because she can see the faint light of a cigarette that emits smoke that instantly hits her nose.

“I thought you were trying to quit.”

Lee turns around at the sound of Y/n’s voice. She’s alone which makes him relax.

“That was years ago,” he slightly laughs at the memory of her chastising him for smoking. She said it was ‘nasty’ and she always went back home smelling like cigarette smoke. She couldn’t believe how she had missed the smell of the particular brand he smokes.

She joins him, standing next to him and staring into the darkness of his backyard. 

“Heard someone bought the land and is going to build a whole bunch of houses. They’re going to pave new streets and everything.”

“Oh,” Y/n isn’t sure how to respond to him. He sounds contemplative, nostalgic almost.

Lee looks over at her, not liking the simple response she gave him. She looks nervous, probably because both of their significant others were inside the house just a few feet away from them.

“You look really pretty tonight. You always look pretty, but you always dress like you have somethin’ to prove when you come around.”

“I do. Your wife wouldn’t be able to stop talking about it if I came in looking anything less than good. You heard how she talks to me in there.”

“You need to ignore her,” his tone is dismissive. He’d rather not talk about his wife when he’s trying to fantasize about having Y/n underneath him while looking like this. She’s matured a lot and she lost some of that baby fat, yet there is still a slightly ingenuous air that surrounds her.

“I can’t, Lee. She’s so mean sometimes, you’re just not always there to see it.”

“You think she doesn't talk to me like that?”

“So you just let her talk to you any kind of way? Was punishment only reserved for me?”

Lee snickers and looks away from her. She was right. Florence would never talk to him crazy while it’s just the two of them and he wouldn’t let her get away with either. She was trying to push him tonight only to get him to denounce Y/n’s dessert. It was ridiculous to him. He doesn’t have it much in him to argue with Florence these days. She shouldn’t complain because Lee is still with her, he’s at home more during the night then he was years ago, and he still fucks her. She has no clue about the cheating, so she’s just jealous that Lee is simply nice to Y/n and that is ridiculous to him.

"Lee, why does she treat me like that?"

He doesn’t have to look at her to know her eyes are wide, almost teary. He can hear it in her voice as she speaks. He feels bad for her, but at the same time he can’t believe she’s letting a woman like Florence get to her. Y/n has never admired stuck-up housewives like her, yet she wants to be liked by her so bad. There is nothing she could do, unless she just ignores Lee altogether, but Y/n would never want to do that.

"I told you she’s just jealous.”

Y/n was becoming less sad and more angry. Lee just keeps brushing her off, just like he would all those years when Y/n would ask if he was going to stop playing games with her. She was never able to talk to him without being shut down and all that resentment had piled up; even after all these years, it was just dormant inside of her.

"But why don't you defend me?" Her voice was louder, and if anyone was listening closely, they would be able to hear her. “You let her talk about me and you like you’re a bitch.”

Lee’s cigarette falls onto the ground and the hand that was once holding grabs at Y/n’s chin. Fear colors her face, but he doesn’t care; she should be scared of him. “Watch your fucking mouth.” He shakes her a bit, adding to her fear. "You don't get to talk to me like that little girl."

Y/n attempts to pull herself out of his grasp, successfully getting his hand off of her chin only to be grabbed by him.

“You’re not going to take your fucking anger for her out on me. I don’t like the bitch either, but that doesn’t give you the right to yell at me. Are you crazy? Have you lost your fucking mind?”

He lets her go with one hand, but she’s frozen in place. Lee knows from past experience that he can do whatever he wants with her when she’s in a state like this. She’s always so pliant for him, but she became extra submissive when he was mean to her. 

“I’ll…I’ll scream so loud that they can all hear me!” 

Lee laughs at her attempt to be tough. He can appreciate that she’s found somewhat of a backbone for herself, but he’s the wrong person for her to be standing up to.

“No you fucking won’t. You wouldn’t do something so stupid and you want to know why? Because if Florence comes out here and sees you with me, all she’s going to do is ostracize you. If your husband sees you out here like this with me…” Lee parts her legs with his knee and forces them open. He reaches under her dress which puts them in a compromising position. “If your husband sees you with your legs open like a slut for the sheriff then you’re done. He’s gonna kick you out before the sun comes up and you’re gonna have to go slinkin’ back to that dump you used to work at.”

She hates when he’s right. Florence would never leave Lee, but it’s nothing for a man to kick his cheating wife to the curb, especially since Lou is young enough to re-marry. He’d have a new wife and possibly a child by the end of next year if he caught sight of this. 

Y/n kept her mouth shut, much to Lee’s relief. He wanted to have some alone time with her, but she just had to make things so difficult. She gasps when he stuffs his hands down her panties and feels her slick between her legs.

"You're so fucked up, it always made you drip when I was mean to you. Look at you reverting back to the slut you were." His harsh words, and the closeness of his body makes Y/n even wetter. She whimpers under his tight grip and tries to grind against his hands. “Look at you trying to get off. That man of yours not satisfying you?”

Y/n doesn’t make eye contact with him, but she meekly nods her head. She hates herself for being so weak around him, but she’s comforted by his presence at the same time. Lee had fucked with her head so much when she was just a 19/20 year old girl that she sees him as more of her protector than her husband. He would purposely put her in an orchestrated dangerous situation just so he could be her savior. She fell for it every time.

“This was always my favorite way to shut you,” he’s now closer to her, his voice right in her ear, “filling this pussy up until the only thing you say was my name over and over again.

Y/n holds onto his shoulder as his finger begins to move into her faster. She couldn’t stand up on her own and had to use him for leverage. She closes her eyes and for a moment just imagines that this is five years ago. Life was hard, yet so simple back then. She could do what she wanted with Lee without his wife or her husband looming over her head. Y/n wishes she didn’t feel guilty about this, but no matter how mean Florence is to her or how much her husband is icy to her, she feels bad for betraying them. 

But the feeling of betrayal doesn’t get her to tell Lee to stop. She quietly whimpers against his chest and lets him do whatever he wants to her. He groans at the feeling of her warm pussy wrapping around his fingers. God he just wants to be inside of her already. He would take her right on their back porch if her husband wasn’t in his house. He’s gotta get her alone some way or another.

“Cum pretty girl, cum for me,” Lee coos in her ear. And just like his voice is magic, she cums all over his nimble fingers.

Y/n inhales sharply once she reaches her high. She has needed to get off so badly for weeks now, but she needed it at the hands of him. He smells so good despite the heavy cigarette smoke that still lingers around him. There is no doubt about it that he has her wiped again.

Lee pulls his fingers out of her and as Y/n adjust herself, he licks her arousal off of his fingers. “You taste the same way. Sweeter than those little cookies you brought over,” he teases, earning a sheepish smile from her, “there she is.”

Lee kisses her forehead as if the two are lovers again. He wants that more than anything. He won’t say that life was easier when she was around, but she did make his days less stressful. She wasn’t wife material, but he has a soft spot the girl most would consider a whore if they knew her past. He’s sure he could turn Y/n into a good wife that takes care of him, but one that isn’t so stuck-up like Florence.

“You’re going to let me see you again,” he wasn’t asking for it, he was demanding it. Lee still ranges real hot and real cold, one minute so mean and the next he’s being so sweet to her. Y/n finds comfort in that range no matter how fucked up and unfair it is. “Just me and you, okay? Like all those old times; me, you, and the cruiser.”

“Okay.”

[light-yaers]

Fools in the Darkness: Chapter Two

Darkling x Reader

Warnings: Death, violence, drugs (Parem), NSFW and sexual content. This content is explicit and 18+ at some points.

A/N: Once again I am showing off how I have zero self control when it comes to creating stable fic uploads! I simply write another chapter and then upload it immediately. I’m so sorry when this will eventually start to die down, but for now let’s enjoy the start of the story, I guess? I’m astounded at the immense love this got! Thank you all so much!

Fic Masterpost

Word Count - 4k

Chapter Two

Inej returned with three glasses of whiskey. Kaz was sat opposite you at his desk, crow-headed cane secured in one of his leather gloved hands. Inej put the glasses on the desk, before picking up and handing one to you.

“Thank you,” You said politely. Despite the few weeks you’d had to acquaint yourself with the types of people that Ketterdam housed, Inej seemed different. She was a fighter, you could see that clearly, but she also seemed... soulful. Like she had a heart, bursting to the brim with kindness and care, despite the Wraith she had to become living in a place such as the Barrel.

“So, what, the Darkling took you in?” Kaz asked, impatience all over his voice. He grabbed his glass sternly, tapping the sides with his covered fingers.

“This is only the beginning of this story,” You replied.

“Well, get to it,” He said quickly.

“I told you it was a long story, Mr. Brekker. It’ll probably take us most of the night. Can your business wait that long?” You raised a brow at him knowingly. There were men such as Kaz in the Little Palace—impatient, to the point, needing answers immediately.

“Listen, Kaz,” Inej spoke up. “I have a feeling we’ve only skimmed the tip of the iceberg,”

You regarded Inej, taking in her petite frame, the glint of the knives on her body; you counted them quickly, efficiently, until you’d added up fourteen in total. Knives for days, and you’d wager a bet that she knew how to use each one to its full advantage, as if they were an extension of her body.

Kaz breathed out shallowly, shooting Inej a stare. She accepted it gracefully, not even flinching from the obvious tension that had begun to float between them.

“Your sister,” Kaz spoke, his eyes still on Inej, until he finally turned to you once more. He nodded once, sternly and quickly, but you got the message loud and clear—I’m sorry. You swallowed uncomfortably, thankful for the small comfort the tumbler of whiskey gave you as you gripped it in your hands.

“Right, where were we?”

The Little Palace, 1 Year Ago

You woke in a bright room, unrecognisable from where you’d been before—in the snow, the ice, shrouded in a darkness that the Darkling seemed to gravitate towards himself involuntarily. You looked at your hands as they shook; dirt was under your nails, dotted with dried and muddied blood—your sister was still on your very skin.

That’s when you shot up, your heartrate exploding suddenly. She wasn’t here, her body wasn’t on the floor at your feet, nor in the bed next to you. You were trapped inside four walls of creams and golds, with décor that you’d only dreamed of ever seeing.

It was unmistakable—you were in the Little Palace, the one place you’d begged the Darkling not to take you to. He’d done it anyway, after you passed out from your extreme exhaustion.

Now you started to panic, as you looked out of the grand windows of the room. A courtyard was down below, empty of people and carriages. It was still early morning by the sun placement; the palace was quiet. The Grisha lay sleeping in their rooms, the General was in his own—

You were alone.

And saints, you weren’t going to stick around. Not with your sister’s body still lying in the Fjerdan snow, waiting for wolves to find her.

You jumped out of bed, ignoring the way your muscles were screaming at you to return to the pristine sheets. Your feet were bare, and one glance at the floor showed you your shoes had been taken. What for, you didn’t know. Maybe they thought that would be enough to prevent you running.

You almost laughed, imagining the spoilt Grisha deciding to remove your boots—She won’t run with bare feet. She won’t. Little did they know, you’d run with bare feet before. And you’d easily do it again.

You tiptoed to the bedroom door, making as little noise as possible. At the last second, before your fingers curled around the handle, you decided to drop to the floor. You lay on your stomach, shoving your skull to the floor and shutting one eye—there were two feet shaped shadows under the door.

One guard, stood on watch.

This complicated things just a tad, but you were already hatching a plan by the time you stood up again. You gave yourself a few moments to stretch your poor limbs, feeling the adrenaline course through your blood and spur you forward. Without hesitation, you curled your fingers around the handle to your room, and yanked it open—

The guard whipped his hatted head around to you immediately, but he wasn’t quick enough to get into a defensive stance. You grabbed him by the collar, pulling him aggressively into your room, before you twisted him round and placed him in a headlock.

The two of you flopped to the floor, but that allowed you to secure his body to the ground with your legs, wrapping them around his torso so he couldn’t wind his way out of your grip. That’s when you tugged—hard against his windpipe.

He struggled and flailed like a freshly caught fish, but you knew it wouldn’t be long until he passed out and went jelloid. You kept your grip on him tightly, keeping him glued to the ground and his neck secure between your chest and forearm, being pulled taut by your other arm.

Eventually, he stopped fighting. His eyes fluttered closed slowly, his body slipped into a state of sleep.

You left him on the bedroom floor then, opting not to take his uniform in case he woke up while you did, and left the room. You clicked the door shut behind you, before beginning a tiptoed journey through the winding corridors of the Little Palace.

Saints, if you had the time, I’m sure you’d have appreciated the décor. It was splendid; all bright whites and creams with accents of shining gold. There were golden curls on blank white walls, intricate designs of Grisha imprinted in the wallpaper and grandiose windows that let the light flood inside.

You felt that, perhaps, the décor made up for the fact this was effectively an army base. The Grisha brought here were trained non-stop. They couldn’t leave, they didn’t have a choice. You’d heard horror stories of this place, back when you used to be safe in Novyi Zem.

“Zowa adawe,” Your neighbour had said. She was an old woman, living a quiet life on her farm. You called her Nana.

She was stern, but often times soft spoken, with her glorious Zemeni skin and gorgeous personality. When you’d found asylum after an unfortunate incident in Kerch, you and your sister had settled in her barn; parentless. She was kind, she ran the farm and let out the barn next door.

She became a grandmother figure immediately, up until the day she died.

Zowa adawe—Grisha fight. Grisha had to fight if they were sent to the Little Palace. There was no getting out it. Nana had said that your powers were beautiful, but she’d always said it with a hint of distain on her lips, as if you were running out of time.

You turned corridor after corridor, praying that no one would see you creeping around this early in the morning. All you had to do was get outside, and then you’d be able to run—run like Hell. Not stopping to look back or even worry if General Kirigan was on your tail. You’d outrun him, even if it killed you.

When you heard voices and footsteps, you flushed yourself against the corridor wall. You didn’t know where they were coming from, or who they were, but with the rags you were wearing the mud dotted over your skin, they’d know you weren’t supposed to be wandering around.

You held your breath, praying that they’d leave, that you’d get out of this fortress unscathed; and then you started moving again. The next corner you turned welcomed you into a large landing. A spiral staircase was before you to your left, only a few metres ahead of you. You lunged quickly, ducking down as not to be seen through the large windows out to the acres of land that surrounded the palace.

“You,” You stopped, swivelling round as your eyes laid upon two Grisha—one in a purple Kefta and one in white. The lady in white had yelled, but neither got into a defensive stance as you faltered backwards, constantly creeping back to the staircase as your heart threatened to bombard out of your chest. The lady in white shot her gaze down the staircase quickly, while the man in purple next to her all but looked confused.

That’s when her gaze tracked back to you once more, her jaw clenched. “Kirigan!” She boomed. You raised your hands quickly.

“Please—just—,” You pleaded in a whisper.

“Kirigan!” She yelled once more, and as the bash of doors sounded from down the stairs, you knew he’d heard loud and clear. The smack of boots ascended the spiral staircase, until the fresh face of General Kirigan hit your own. He slowed on the stairs, overseeing the commotion, before his expression softened.

He raised his hands calmly, widening his eyes in some kind of silent language, meant just for you.

“Now, just calm down,” He said calmly. You shot your gaze from the two Grisha at the end of the corridor, back to the General, before taking in your surroundings. You were blocked in from both ways; there were no doorways on your side of the grand landing.

But, there was an empty corridor, dotted with closed doors, and at the end—

A window.

It was as if Kirigan could sense the cogs in your brain whirring. As soon as your eyes lay on the window at the end of the free corridor, he began bounding up the steps. “No!” He yelled, reaching out for the flowing fabric of your blouse, but you were already running.

You pumped your arms and moved your legs as quickly as you could, storming towards the window at full pelt. Your heart was in your throat, your limbs screaming for relief, but all you could think of was your sister—alone, cold, left in the snow in a land that had never been kind to her.

That’s when you jumped, flying with all of the momentum you’d charged up from the run up, crashing straight through the window with all of your force. You ignored the sting of shattered glass as it ripped through your clothes and skin, the pain of the wood panelling breaking apart as your body slammed through the window—

And then you were falling, falling, falling—but you never hit the ground.

You brought your hands together with your eyes clamped shut, mustering your remaining energy into creating a cushion of wind to land on. It circled beneath you, spiralling around your body and stopping your free fall comfortably, until you balled your fists and the winds dissipated.

You landed in a large courtyard outside, shaking shards of glass out of your hair as you stood. You dared to look back at the mess you’d made, staring up at the broken window—

Kirigan stood above you, gazing down at you eerily.

You thought he’d be more frantic at the fact you’d just smashed through a window and were still standing. You thought he’d be rushing to get you back inside, but he wasn’t. He was calm and collected, looking at you as if he’d already worked you out completely. And that was the scariest part of this entire ordeal.

You broke into a run, not looking back as you pumped forward. You could feel his stare on your back the entire time, but you chose to ignore it—even if it all felt too easy.

Before you could make it to the tree line, you started to wane. Your limbs felt like lead, your heart felt like a bowling ball in your chest, and all of a sudden it was far too difficult to suck air into your lungs.

You collapsed to your knees, clutching at your chest as you glanced around the clearing. Before your vision began to blur, the unmistakable colour of red hit you. Red and black, with hands dancing before them. A Grisha—a Heartrender.

You struggled against the obvious magic that he was using upon you to slow your heartrate, to stop your muscles working properly. That’s when a blob of black strolled up beside the Grisha, placing his arm upon his Heartrender.

“Enough, Ivan,” Kirigan said, but you could hardly hear him.

“Heartrender...” You stuttered out, as Kirigan began to approach you slowly. “Playing dirty,” You said, as the rest of you collapsed to the floor. The sky above you circled sickeningly, your vision seeing double. Kirigan stepped above you, his face distorted as you fought against the power of Ivan.

“You’ll soon learn that I’m not the enemy here,” He said softly, as he descended to one knee. He slipped his arms beneath you, before rising. You were cradled in his arms, to incapacitated to fight against him.

“Darkling,” You muttered. You would have added more, but even talking was too much to handle.

General Kirigan carried you back inside, as the doors of the palace were bolted shut by his Heartrender. There was nothing you could do—you were powerless, and you were stuck.  

You didn’t fall asleep, but everything felt like a dream. The walk back inside, being carried to a room that wasn’t the one you awoke in, feeling the strength of Kirigan’s arms holding you up without as much as a grunt of exertion.

Kirigan gently dropped you into a large armchair, letting your head fall back against plush leather. He straightened himself, going to sit in a chair opposite you. He picked up a small bell from the table between you, ringing it once, before putting it back down and leaning back in his own chair.

You blinked away the double vision, trying to gain back your composure.

“It’ll ease. Ivan slowed your heart into a death state,” Kirigan said calmly. You were getting annoyed at the way his voice filled the air around you, floated into your ears smoothly. You didn’t want to listen. “That was quite a show,”

You think you scoffed, or maybe you tried too, because the corners of Kirigan’s mouth upturned ever so slightly.

“I told you not to bring me here,” Your words were slurred, almost as if you were drunk. You fought against the want to drift into a sleep, but he was right—it was easing with every passing minute.

“You never told me why,” He replied. You forced yourself to look at him, as your eyes adjusted. There weren’t two of him anymore; just one man. One man who’d dragged you here against your will, leaving your sister alone on Fjerdan soil.

“You left my sister there to rot,” You said, stronger this time. “How could you think I’d stay here when you left her?” Kirigan’s expression didn’t change, but he did look around when someone entered the room, carrying a pot of tea with two cups and saucers. The tray was placed on the table silently, before the attendant left immediately, clicking the door shut.

Kirigan poured two cups of tea, pushing one set towards you and taking one for himself. He didn’t take a sip yet.

“What do you have against the Little Palace?” He asked. You couldn’t help your scowl from devouring your entire face.

“The King hoards Grisha here like he owns them, like they owe him something. It’s a prison disguised as a lavish life. It’s no worse than the whore houses in Ketterdam,” You replied bluntly.

“Yet you were trying to get to Ravka, weren’t you?” Kirigan was quick to the mark, leaving nothing unturned.

“For my sister,” You said, clenching your jaw. “She’d be safe with the First Army,”

“And you?”

You finally looked in his eyes. They were dark, piercing your very skin, but the way they reflected the light gave them the illusion of warmth. You didn’t want to ever admit that the Darkling was a warm individual, not from the stories of his bloodline that you were taught from a young age.

“I was going to lie and stay with her. My abilities have never offered me much,” You said honestly, but you didn’t know why you were being truthful with this man. You swallowed uncomfortably, telling yourself to stop being so open.

“You killed those druskelle. You protected yourself,” He said. He was right, but you felt sick to your stomach. You saved yourself, but you couldn’t save her. You didn’t. “Your power is unrefined, unpredictable, but strong. I’ve never seen a Squaller summon a storm such as what we saw from the Ravkan border. It’s what lead us to you,”

The General finally took a sip of his tea, daintily rising the cup to his lips, before setting it down slowly on the saucer. You glanced at your own cup, wanting to take a sip too, but you couldn’t make yourself reach for it; not yet.

“We train Grisha here for the King, you’re right,” He continued, when you kept your mouth clamped shut. “But we also allow them to refine their abilities and hone their craft. This is a safe place for Grisha, when there are many out there who would try and take advantage of such power,”

“I never asked for this power,” You said quickly.

“No. But you can control it,” He replied, stronger this time. He had a smile on his face, leaning slightly forward, as if he truly wanted you to know why the Little Palace was good. “Wouldn’t you feel better? If you could truly harness your power? Bend it to your exact will?”

You swallowed once, frowning as you looked in his eyes. You wanted to say that you didn’t trust him—and never would. You wanted to splash scolding tea across his treacherous face, but you did neither.

“I’d feel better if I’d buried my sister, before you gave me a life sentence,”

Kirigan stood then, turning his back to you to stand before the window behind him. His hands were together behind his back, his chin high and shoulders broad. He wore all black, but you’d expect nothing different from a man who went by the Darkling.

He thought in depth, calmly, quietly, while you debated having some of your tea. It was steaming and warm and calling out to you. You knew it wasn’t poisoned because he’d already taken a sip, but you were still wary.

“How about a proposal?” He said then, turning back to look at you. You scoffed.

“I’d rather marry a horse than you,” You let out. It was an obvious joke, but you hadn’t expected the words to spill from your lips. Kirigan raised his brows, almost boyishly, taking you by surprise.

“We have fine horses here, I’m sure we could find you a great husband,” He hit back with. Saints forbid, he’d joked back. You hated to admit it, but your shoulders relaxed then, as a small giggle burst from within your gut. He came to sit opposite you once more, taking another sip of tea.

This time, you mimicked him. You picked up your own cup, bringing it to your lips and sipping heartily. Warm tea cascaded down your throat, bringing more strength back to your muscles.

“You train here,” Kirigan began. “You train here and learn to fully control your powerful Squaller abilities, with the help of myself,” You frowned slightly as he mentioned himself, but nevertheless let him continue. “And then, when you’re ready, I’ll... let you slip out undetected,”

That’s when you choked on your tea. You placed the cup back down on the saucer messily, spilling tea on his table.

“You’d let me out?” You stuttered. “No. No fucking way would you let that happen. I know the stories, General. The stoic man, damaged by his bloodline and his image,” As you spoke, Kirigan’s jaw tensed. “You wouldn’t let a Grisha slip out of your ranks,”

He cleared his throat slightly, straightening his shoulders. “I will, if it means you’ll let me train you first,”

You furrowed your brows at him, the cogs in your brain whirring. “Why are you so interested in my abilities? I’m no Sun Summoner, General. I can’t destroy the Fold—,”

“This isn’t about the Fold,” He interrupted you. “This is about you,” He said it with such surety that it almost took your breath away. You were silent, pondering what to say from your rapidly firing thoughts. “Squallers are never as powerful as you have proven to be,” He leaned forward on the dark wood table, coming in close to you. You were too frozen in place to move, too stubborn to back away from him. “I want to see what else you can do, with the right training,”

You stood abruptly, after he’d finished talking. You ignored the disastrous way you looked, with shards of glass still in your hair and small scratches all over your bare skin. Your feet were bad; you could tell just from the way your soles felt; but you pushed through.

“This is a deal,” You said strongly. “A proper deal—a vow,”

Kirigan stood then, too, strolling round until he was face to face with you.

“I’m a man of my word,” He said plainly, before he stuck out a strong hand. You stared at his wrist, his fingers, before slipping your own hand into his. You both shook on it, cementing the deal that he’d offered. If you felt he was lying at any moment, you wouldn’t hesitate to break out of the Little Palace and slip through his fingers.

“Fine,” You said, pulling your hand from his grasp. He looked down at you with an air of knowledge, but his eyes showed you something else; a softness, excitement, sadness. It was so intense that you simply had to look away.

“Your sister,” He said then, causing you to flinch as you scowled back at him. “Men have already been sent to the border to collect her,” He said it so plainly that you were sure he was making it up, but your heart panged as he kept talking. “They’ll bring her here in two days’ time. She will have a proper burial,”

You could have cried, if your body wasn’t on fire. You would have screamed and sobbed if you weren’t stood in front of someone such as General Kirigan. In this world, crying was always a weakness. Emotions were meant to be felt in private. Pain was only to be felt behind closed doors. You wouldn’t give up that ingrained way of life so quickly, as much as you wanted to collapse on the floor when you thought of your sister.

You tried to find the words to say something in response to General Kirigan, but nothing came out. All you could muster was a curt nod, to which he reciprocated with his own.

“Rest. Eat. Drink. You have today to recuperate,” He said sternly.

“Before the Grisha here eat me alive,” You whispered. Kirigan let out the smallest huff.

“Show them your power, and they’ll leave you be,” He said, before his hand curled around your forearm tightly. You gasped at his touch, expecting it to be cold, dark, hostile—but he was just a man. He was just... a fucking man.

With eyes and a nose and a mouth. With shining hair and stubble and broad shoulders. With hips that dipped to his thighs and knees that met his calves.

It was scary, to say the least. You knew what this man was capable of. You knew what he could do, but instead he promised you freedom. He promised to train you, to bury your sister, to keep you safe here while he could.

But that didn’t mean you trusted him. That didn’t mean you weren’t wary—

If only you’d stayed this on edge, this untrusting. Maybe things would have been different.

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I’m sorry if your tag doesn’t work-- I don’t know why they do that sometimes!

[aminiatureworld]

Etched Words

Characters: Xiao x gn!reader

Word Count: 2,920

Warnings: None

Premise: He'd long given up the idea. No one should be stuck with him, and fate would never be so kind to do so, no so cruel to punish someone in such a way. And yet you'd appeared, and now he didn't know what to do.

In which the reader’s familiarity is written on Xiao’s sleeve.

Author’s Note: Originally wasn’t going to write this tonight since I was afraid of how long this was going to be but oops. I love soulmate AUs, they’re probably the fic that I make up in my head the most, there’s just so much potential for it.

Xiao I’m sorry I’ve neglected a oneshot for you for so long, hope you forgive me and hope everyone who reads this enjoys!

Xiao would never admit the real reason that he was determined to wear a sleeve around one of his arms. Part of it was tradition, he’d worn it since Rex Lapis had first commanded him to fight, and even if those days of war were long forgotten to most the memories still burned bright to him. He couldn’t bring himself to completely lose that legacy, even in terms of what he wore. To those who knew him that was assumed to be the only reason; but every once in a while, when he was perhaps feeling weak enough, Xiao would lift up his sleeve to read the words snaking across his forearm.

What a lovely little bird, don’t you think? Those words haunted him, tearing apart his thoughts for certain lengths of time, filling his head with a sense of resentment and melancholy.

The last thing Xiao wanted was a soulmate. Soulmates were something destined for humans, those who could live life ducking most of its horrors, those who could feel passionately and indulge in the feeling of love without sorrow or guilt. Most important of all humans would never have to experience the feeling of losing one’s soulmate forever, and living on for millennia afterword with only memory and regret to keep them company. It was a curse to give an immortal being a soulmate, especially one such as Xiao, who battled every day with the chains of his past, with the acts he’d committed and the darkness he’d almost fallen into. No one, mortal or immortal, deserved a soulmate such as he, and Xiao for his part thought he didn’t deserve such a curse. Let him deal with his affairs alone, he didn’t want a punishment like this.

Besides, Xiao had long ago come to the conclusion that he was never to meet his soulmate. So long had it been since those words had been etched onto his skin that he was sure they must’ve been the mutterings of someone who’d long passed him by, or someone who’d never managed to say those words at all. After all, being destined to fall in love with someone wasn’t a guarantee that one would live that long, and fate could be so easily twisted and bent. Yes, his soulmate must be long dead. Perhaps they’d been a worshipper of long ago, or perhaps they’d been nothing at all. Perhaps they’d died in one of the wars in which the yaksha had participated in and perhaps they’d lived to a ripe old age, never once uttering that phrase which haunted him. Either way they were dead and gone, and Xiao didn’t want the reminder of that. He certainly didn’t want others to know, to look down upon him with pity.

So he kept it hidden, and though the words sometimes haunted him at least he had the certainty that they would never be spoken in his presence. Even if a small part of him doubted, and hoped for a miracle.

------

There was a new guest and the Wangshu Inn, and one that was most likely going to be staying for a while. Or so Xiao heard that morning as Verr Goldet checked on the breakfast and made the rounds. He liked Goldet, respected her for her ethic and her wry sense of humor, even if he loathed it being turned upon himself. She was intensely practical in nature, and always had a sense of what was important and what was ultimately not. So the mention of a new and mysterious guest stuck with him the whole day, and though he spent most of his time away from the Inn, he couldn’t help but turn Goldet’s words over in his mind, wondering if they would truly turn out as important as she made them seem.

It had been a busy day for Xiao, as Liyue was still reeling from its attempted destruction and negotiations between the adepti and the Qixing were long and arduous. The meal afterwards was even more so and if it weren’t for the traveler Xiao most likely wouldn’t’ve attended in the first place. By the time he made his way back to his usual spot on the balcony of the Inn he was tired and irritable, so much so that he only noticed he wasn’t invisible when you spoke after him, and after that he was too far gone to really register that fact.

“What a lovely little bird, don’t you think?” You were leaning on the railing, staring up at a nightingale, who was chirping away. “They’re so cute aren’t they, and they have such a classical sort of call. It’s really so peaceful.” You sighed for a moment, a sigh of contentment, and once more focused your gaze back to Xiao, smiling a slightly embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry the familiarity, I don’t believe I’ve met you yet.”

It was more of a question than a statement, but at that point Xiao could barely process what you’d just said, and the question itself was lost in the swirl of emotions he felt. Disbelief and shock were the primary emotions, for who could imagine you were real and not a figment of his imagination, but there were other emotions too; longing, frustration, fear, guilt. They all mingled together, reminding him of why he’d both longed for a moment like this and wished for it never to come. And now it was here, here and all too much. Letting out a gasp of breath that meant nothing at all Xiao vanished into the night, cheeks burning with shame as a part of him cried out that he’d just made the greatest mistake of his life.

At first Xiao had planned to avoid the Inn completely, to wait until he knew you were gone and then try to get back the semblance of normalcy that had been completely destroyed. He quickly realized however that it would be impossible to do so. The Inn had become a sort of refuge for Xiao, a familiar place where he could listen to the soft sounds of humanity in the evening and of the wilderness at night, where he didn’t have to worry about sudden changes in weather or running into treasure hoarders or monsters. Besides he’d underestimated the power of meeting one’s soulmate. And by the next morning Xiao was sure that he was going to finally drive himself to insanity if he didn’t go back and see you.

Not that you were there when he returned, for the sun was up and you’d already packed your things, going off to do whatever you did in the daytime. The hours stretched on and on for Xiao, but he attempted to busy himself by walking along the familiar valleys of Jueyun Karst, the familiar atmosphere grounding him as best it could while his mind spun this way and that.

You were real. You were alive and you had spoken to him and you were real. If the feeling of wanting to know you had suddenly appeared then so too had the feeling of overwhelming loneliness, a sudden realization of how dreary, how heavy all the years of his life had been. Xiao had acquaintances, allies, even friends, but those bonds had faded long ago, made weak by death or war or even the long peace that existed now. Even if he was grateful for the peace, he knew that it had made him lonely; all the adepti stayed within their domains and Rex Lapis had disappeared into the city, a place Xiao could never imagine dwelling in. There were humans of course, pilgrims, thieves, the curious mixing with the pious, mixing with the lost. But they were separate from him, and he had long ago developed a total disinterest in regards to most of their requests. He protected Liyue, not the interests of its citizens. And even if he had wished to mingle with them he knew that it would most likely bring them only despair, as curses clung to him and no matter how much he tried he’d never be able to exorcise them.

And yet you were human. Only now the thought truly cemented itself in Xiao’s mind. You were human, of course you were human. Fate would never be so kind as to simply drop you at his doorsteps, smiling and willing to talk and immortal on top of it; no you’d been born mortal, and in that fact Xiao saw only ruin. He might very well destroy you, for though he’d not truly spent enough time with mortals to see the long term effects of his karma might be, he could hardly imagine it to be pleasant. Even if he didn’t kill you time would. And then where would he be? If he already felt somewhat attached to you now, how would he feel then, after you’d truly gotten to know one another? The idea terrified Xiao so completely that for a moment he felt as if he was drowning. You were human. Why were you human.

Despite this Xiao couldn’t help but feel some sense of relief, even happiness, when you appeared on the balcony again that evening. You leaned against the railing for a bit, but eventually grew tired and went inside. Xiao’s disappointment however was negated when you came back, a chair in one hand a book in the other. Sitting down you opened the book on your lap, but instead of reading it you stared out into the night. And, eventually, you began to speak.

“The innkeeper tells me that what happened yesterday was normal. I’m so sorry I scared you in that way, or perhaps that I approached you so casually. I hadn’t realized you were an adeptus you see, although perhaps that was a stupid mistake on my part, as you hardly seem like a normal person. I’m sorry either way. She also told me that you were often up here in the evenings, so hopefully I’m not talking to myself.” You let out an embarrassed sort of laugh, Xiao loved nothing so much as your laugh in that moment, before continuing. “I don’t know if I’m talking to myself right now, but I do have something for you. I found it on my way here, and though it’s probably common enough here I thought it was pretty. I hope you like it.”

The next day nothing had moved from where you’d left it, and to your disappointment the Qingxin had gotten utterly soaked in the morning rain.

Xiao knew he should say something, knew that it was incredibly rude to leave your gift untouched. But he couldn’t help it, couldn’t break down the walls that he’d built up for so long. Not that he could completely stay away either. It’d become a routine of some sorts, to come back to the Inn each night and listen to you speak. You were always there, even when the heat became near unbearable or when you came back so late that it was closer to sunrise than sunset. Even then you still spared at least ten minutes to talk into the dark. Xiao wasn’t sure why you were doing so, although he somewhat suspected Goldet in the matter, nor could he tell why you were waiting for him, being hardly versed in the idea of soulmates and unsure whether you’d realized it or not. Regardless of how or why, the tradition still continued, Xiao silent, you filling said silence with words or laughter or sighs. And at least once a week there was a gift. Though Xiao never touched it and eventually Goldet would come and collect it or it would scatter in the wind.

“I have an idea!” Your voice was filled with excitement today and, as if to match it, you’d abandoned the chair, instead bouncing up and down slightly on your toes as you stared out into the sky. “I’m going to do something for you tomorrow, okay. So be sure not to come back until after sunset, or it won’t be a surprise.”

At first Xiao had been completely set on ruining your surprise, after all he disliked being thrown off guard, and you were hardly close enough an acquaintance for him to consider making an exception. The knowledge that the latter half of his reasoning was completely his fault however managed to keep him away, though he stubbornly refused to come back until a half an hour after sunset.

The balcony was the same as ever, and at first Xiao wondered if you’d hadn’t given up on whatever you’d been scheming. However he quickly became aware of what the surprise was when you came into view, a slightly bashful smile on your face and a plate of Almond Tofu in your lap instead of the usual book or weapon when it needed cleaning.

For once Xiao didn’t think about how Goldet had definitely tipped you off, or how he shouldn’t talk to you, or how you were so oddly persistent. He felt his invisibility fall off of him, as if he’d shed a coat or a second skin. Footsteps causing the wood to creak slightly he watched as you jumped for a moment, having obviously been daydreaming, before smiling widely.

“I’ve heard you like Almond Tofu!” You smiled, reaching the plate out towards the yaksha. Silently taking it Xiao stepped back a bit. You did nothing in response to the gesture, merely sitting there, hands folded in your lap and face full of anticipation.

The dish tasted wonderful, perfectly sweet and melty it seemed somewhat distinct, although why Xiao couldn’t really tell. Eating piece after piece he savored the flavor, for it’d really been quite a long time since he’d been offered Almond Tofu, and whether it was your cooking style or the fact you were the chef he couldn’t help but feel as this batch had come out better than the rest. Xiao couldn’t help himself. Looking up at you he let out a soft smile.

“I’m glad you like it!” You exclaimed, face bright with triumph. Standing up you walked slowly over towards Xiao, hand once more reaching out to take the plate. Instead of letting you take it however Xiao walked into the Inn and placed it on the nearest table. Coming out onto the balcony once more he crossed his arms.

“If you stay close to me you’ll die.”

This, instead of having any sort of negative effect on you, instead caused your eyes to widen, and your smile with it. Bouncing up and down once more you giggled slightly.

“So it really is you.” And, before Xiao could say anything, you turned around, hiking up the sleeve on one of your shoulders. Xiao didn’t need to lean in to make out the spidery lettering that trailed down towards your forearm. He wasn’t surprised in what he saw. If you stay close to me you’ll die.

Honestly, what does one do in a situation like this? Xiao couldn’t tell, having so long abandoned hope of something like this happening. Yet even while his mind reeled once more from the confirmation his legs didn’t. Stepping softly towards you, slightly weary, he reached out and traced the letters on the back of your shoulder, as if trying to convince himself it was real.

“May I see yours?” You said, turning around suddenly. Although your question was direct your tone had somewhat softened, and a slight blush dusted you cheeks. Nodding Xiao lifted up his sleeve, and your fingers ghosted over your words in turn. “I never knew what to think of those words, once I become aware of them,” you smiled softly, “but I’m so glad now I’ve found out.”

“They’re true.” Xiao spoke firmly, fear at the forefront of his thoughts. “You don’t know my past, my burden. Fate hasn’t been kind to you, and I might very well kill you.”

“I’ve read about your supposed curses.” You replied, leaning towards him slightly despite his words. “But you said ‘might very well’ not definitely. And besides,” you shrugged, “I want to trust in fate.”

“Why?” Xiao let out a bitter laugh. “Fate is hardly kind.”

“I don’t know, it brought me to my soulmate after all. If fate were so cruel, surely it would never do such a thing.”

“You’re acting reckless.” The words might’ve been a rebuke but Xiao couldn’t find it in him to be harsh. How much he’d underestimated what it’d be like to meet one’s soulmate. Well, he’d never do so again.

“Perhaps, but I’d like to stay and get to know you better regardless.” You stared at him, eyes both somehow piercing and soft. They were beautiful, your eyes, Xiao could drown in them and hardly notice.

“Very well.” Perhaps not the kindness of concessions, but nevertheless you smiled. Pausing for a moment you reached up and wrapped your arms around him. After a moment Xiao returned the gesture, too caught up in your gentle grasp to want to resist.

Was fate kind? Xiao couldn’t tell. He’d been so sure he’d never find a partner, never some he could call his home, his anchor. And yet it had come to pass, and though Xiao was afraid, so desperately afraid, he also was hopeful. How could he not be? The last thing Xiao had wanted was a soulmate, but now that he’d met you, he never wanted to be without you again.

Both your phrases faded over time. But your love never did.

[pangtasias-atelier]

Endless (W)eight

Well this story kinda ended up changing a rather bit from what I initially planned lol. But I am kinda content with how this was especially cause struggling to write immense sizes. Of which this is cause I kinda just kept making Freyr fatter and fatter lol. 

This was meant to be like a semi sorta sequel to the Joshua Gerik story I wrote but this isn’t even really summer themed anymore. If you do understand the reference with the title, I love you. Anyways, enjoy but please do not fucking perceive me cause while this is far from horny or anything this is self indulgent and feels kinda weird since it isn’t the same characters I gush over and also cause this is like the biggest I've written lol

Askr's Order of Heroes enjoying a now endless summer, the revelry continues to increase throughout the weeks just as the heroes' waistlines. Heroes summoned from the beginning of the Order's creation to those summoned during the current reigning peace partake in the merriment alike. No hero quite forced into enjoying themselves and their time, the bit of nudging from the food's addictive nature and decreased metabolism only strengthens the feeling laying dormant inside a hero, one particular new recruit is completely absorbed in enjoying themselves to the fullest.

The King of dreams, Freyr, appears nothing like he once used to. The God who governs dreams appears to be enjoying his own blissful, hedonistic dream. Never having eaten a morsel of human food in his entirety of living, he more than makes up for it now, Freyr having eaten more food in his short time of being summoned to Askr than any  human could possibly imagine in their lifetimes.

Absolutely corpulent, Freyr's overwhelming fatness is enough to put even whales to shame. Unable to move unlike a whale, Freyr's size is simply from pure, unabashed hedonism. So content and obsessed with stuffing his face with the divine delicacies produced by humans, his ballooning waistline had been of zero importance to him. It still is, what with his ever ongoing display of wanton gluttony. Immobile several millions of calories ago, Freyr's current appetite is enough to put the entire Order to shame. Far more than even a dozen times over. Unable to get up and move around, the same is true for the entirety of Freyr's castle crushing weight. His hands and feet are gone in their entirety. They're absorbed and smothered under the enormity of his weight. The near same is true for even his head with his numerous flabby back rolls and engorged cheeks. An overly ridiculous amount of fat is caked all over his blubbery, rotund form. His appendages are just as useless as the rest of his bloated body. In a constant euphoric dreamlike state, Freyr has no need to do anything besides enjoying himself. Especially with the aid of the summoner. Kiran perfectly willing in enabling the perpetuation of Freyr's overconsumption, the summoner is able to at least transport Freyr from place to place through magic. Albeit at an increasingly concerning amount of magical and physical strain on Kiran's part with so much required to move the meaty mountain that is Freyr. And at the cost of creating more monumental goat sized craters throughout Zenith with every transportation. Not that anyone is able to tell that Freyr is a goat. His once magnificent horns appear to be nothing more than sad little stubs on the overflowing stack of pancakes of a man. Not like most would even be able to discern Freyr as a human either, the man more akin to a gelatinous blob. Completely nude, all people get upon the sight of Freyr is a staggeringly wide wall of blubber. Clothes had been forwent long ago. Not that anyone could remember; Freyr's sheer weight alone is more concerning for everyone else. All his fancy adornments are no more. His bright lei had been torn asunder from his several chin folds and doughy neck. His pristine white shawl had fallen off from his melon breasts and ample back tore the strap. His gold bracelets snapped in half by his overburdened arms and calves. And his flowing lower garments which grew too tight for his widened rear and hips. Clothes too much of a hassle back then, the time and material needed to clothe Freyr now makes a shirt back then seem like an expert working on a simple scarf.

The beach no longer suitable for Freyr, what with the sun's heat combined with his own overabundant body heat, Kiran had brought him to Nifl. The icy cold region suits him perfectly. A nice freezing temperature provided year-round, the nice cooling helps keep him from feeling like a furnace about to explode all the time. Nifl also a rather sparsely populated country, Kiran had moved him to the absolute most desolate place. It had taken a modicum of convincing on Kiran's part at first, Freyr unwilling to hide his splendor and immensity from humans. Until Kiran cajoled him throughout several talks, reminding him that his enormity can be seen from those all around him from great, vast distances and that the move was only to ensure him a proper space to grow comfortably. Freyr large enough to fill up and destroy the entirety of Askr castle from his abundant acres of adipose back when he had first been magically transported to Nifl, his efforts in simply grazing and lazing worked wonders on his body, Freyr now large enough to occupy Nohr's Castle Krakenburg and even the entirety of Windmire and then some. His frame towering just as imposingly as it spreads, the great, mountainous man is indeed visible despite residing weeks from the nearest inhabitable place. His own size indeed a great issue, the amount of food required to merely keep Freyr fed, much less the food necessary to ensure his continual growth, is also another concern with regards to space. The summoner able to find another spell to aid with just that, a small portal floats above his face. His feeding tube comes out one end of it, the other end coming out another portal somewhere in Askr. The contraption alone is the size of a castle, such great quantities of food needed to feed Freyr and Freyr alone. Speaking of food, giving him enough complete meals to satisfy his hunger is completely out of the question. Instead, his feeding tube houses a mixture that Freyr can never quite place. Some days, he tastes an arrangement of the most cloyingly sweet desserts paired with an assortment of decadent toppings. Other days, an impossibly wide array of spicy yet savory dishes enter his mouth. And on even more days, the mixture changes throughout the day, his taste buds never left unsatisfied with the selection. Though such a thing is impossible with Freyr simply caring about stuffing his gullet. Freyr currently devours away at his unending torrent of food with the same fervor he always does.

His growth still occurs at a rapid pace, hundreds of pounds slathered onto his elephantine body daily. But at such a prodigal girth as extraordinary as Freyr's, the extra few hundreds is nothing but a pathetic drop of blubber into the oceanic bucket of lard that he is. Completely unrecognizable as even a human figure at this point, a passing semblance lost tons and tons of weight ago, his stomach puts even the largest of doomsday dragons several heroes once faced. His soft, flabby expanse of lard oozes and flows forward in all directions. His mountainous stomach spreads for miles as far as anyone could see, his expansive pale blubber blanketing the snowy landscape as it takes up the area in its need for more room. Rivers for love handles jut out the side of his mountain of a gut, the ginormous rolls of flab melding into an indiscernible shape. The upper roll of his gut lurches forward onto the lower valley filling slab of fat that is the lower half of his gut. Or what can be construed as it, Freyr's towering body hard to discern. His cavernous navel is in a constant state of twilight from the overhang, the space reminiscent of a black hole. His enormous breasts remain flopped on his great cushiony gut. Freyr's own corpulence the only thing able to rival itself in terms of sheer size, the two titanic tits take up a sizable, meaty portion of his stomach. Each breath alone can crush the entirety of Daein Keep alone. The bright pink hue of his areola is the only real demarcation of his breasts, the sagging tits even managing to mesh together with his mound of a gut. Above his gut is Freyr's unfathomably high amount of neck rolls and chins that simply crash upon one another to form a ringlet of uncountable rolls. Freyr's ass surges out behind him. The tremendous ass cheeks splay out further than even the Mila Tree's canopy. Freyr's ass and gut take up the most space of himself, both assets spreading wherever they please unlike his bloated, sunken appendages. Not that there is much distinction between his ass and gut, both absolutely massive piles of blubber with little shape to speak of. His back is riddled with hundreds of soft plush rolls. His legs useless several hundreds of feasts ago, the two oceanic thighs are bunched up together in a mockery of what a leg should be, rolls upon rings of fat smothering one another to make up a leg. The same is true for his arms, dozens of rings of fat making up his arms uselessly splayed to the side from his uncountable plush love handles. Freyr's cheeks occupy an even greater amount of space than his head, the bulbous mounds of fat splaying out to the sides of his face even as it takes up most of said face. And yet, even at such an inconceivable size, Freyr simply needs more. He craves it. To eat and grow to the absolute inordinately massive that he can possibly be.

The telltale sound of a ripple sounding out, Freyr nearly misses it over the crashing pleasant torrent of his muffled moans from his eating. Knowing what is to come, his monstrous guzzling somehow becomes even more fervorent. A figure comes out of the portal and steps onto Freyr's corpulence.

Kiran is merely the molehill to Freyr's mountain. Yet, even such a comparison is far too diminutive of Freyr's grandeur, Kiran neither even being an anthill, merely an ant in the presence of someone as monumentally fat as Freyr. Always visiting daily to check upon his process, Kiran's next action is not done so often. He closes the portal housing Freyr's feeding tube, the colossal man going without food for more than a second for the first time in weeks.

Freyr's eyes are constantly closed now just as they were when he was once thin and fit, an image hard for those to imagine with his size being what it is now. Able to more easily attune himself to the dreams of others with his eyes closed, he keeps them closed for his own dreams. Dreams of the future. Dreams of living as the god he ought to. Of nothing more than to simply eat and grow. To further display his greatness for all humans to see and awe. To tower over them in immensity and power. Of growing so immensely fat that even the mortal realm will be unable to withstand his divine corpulence and returning back to Ljósálfheimr only to continue eating and growing with the aid of his realm's infinitely expanding space. With his treasured human who benevolently offered unto him the knowledge of human delicacies and set him upon this path.

And so, he opens his eyes as his most loyal devotee rests comfortably atop him. It is only right for him to offer such a pleasure to a mere mortal. For despite the summoner's abilities, that is all he is in comparison to one as great as he. A delicate human before a god. His own titanic waves of lard fills up the near entirety of his vision. The fat from his waves of back fat folding on up to his face just as his greatly stuffed cheeks do.  The only break to the monotonous view of his pale blubber is the summoner's face peering down at his sunken face.

"Kiran…" Freyr's deep rich voice is magnified from all his fat pressing down on him. His luscious mannerism in speaking in a near hazy drawn out whisper is magnified as well, speaking a time and energy consuming task at his monumental size.

A relaxed smile on his face, Kiran allows himself to rest a ginger hand on Freyr's cheek. Unable to lift a single cheek with even both hands, he merely pinches at the plush malleable lard. His eyes never once leave Freyr's own. Keeping them fully open is also too taxing of a task for Freyr. Instead, they remain half lidded. Kiran's hands explore only the near perimeter of Freyr's face. Enough rolls on his expansive lard, Kiran could spend hours simply exploring such a small section of Freyr's corpulence. Freyr's churning stomach is a turbulent, raucous machine with its tremor like desperate growls. Freyr's taxed wheezing mixes in, the two filling in for the silence. Freyr's slight moans trickle in as Kiran's hands wander off towards Freyr's horns, his delicate hands wrapping around and rubbing the tip of them.

"Hnnn… Kiran…" Unable to even squirm from the touching, every single part of Freyr immovable, he remains still as the red tinge of blush on his face deepens and darkens.

"I am here to serve you," Kiran drapes himself over Freyr's enormity, one hand never leaving Freyr's horns. "Whatever you may wish for, I will perform," Kiran's smile widens as Freyr's black hole for a stomach seems to respond to the thinly veiled offer, Kiran always being like this whenever he has come to increase Freyr's intake of food.

"Haah, so hungry,,, I hnngh-require food," Freyr wheezes from a mere sentence, the energy required of him to do anything a foreign concept now. "Much more hah food,,,"

"Of course," Kiran reactivates the portal spell. A bright iridescent blue portal appears above Freyr's face. A ripple in the sky, Kiran reaches his hand inside it and rummages around. Grabbing the thick wide tube, he drags it out of the portal.

"Wait,,," Freyr slowly croaks out right before Kiran brings his feast of a snack to his lips. His stomach wrenches in pangs of hunger at the tantalizing offer of food dangling right in front of his face. "I shall haah have you stay,,," His bloated face puffs out in exertion. It is only fair to offer such a devoted human such a great right of basking in his presence.

Kiran's face softens. "Of course," They respond as if asked to hand over an item, not remaining atop an inconceivably obese and growing man. "Now, I mustn't keep you waiting much longer," With no interruption on either end, Kiran slots Freyr's feeding tube back inside his mouth. Freyr begins guzzling away at it before Kiran even activates it. Kiran huffs in amusement before activating Freyr's feeding machine.

"You deserve to grow as big as you wish. And I would be delighted to remain by your side as you do,"

Freyr merely half grunts half moans in affirmation, preferring to eat and to not disappoint his loyal devotee. Especially as he wishes to find out his possible limit, not that he'll ever willingly stop growing nor that he even presumably has one.

[fandomscombine]

It's the Lease I Can Do

Platonic! Weasley Twins x Reader

BG: The Weasley twins are so close to having their joke shop become a reality. They had found the perfect location but they had hit a minor problem that could cause them everything. You want to help, but how can you when they, the birthday boys themselves had given up?

a/n: I had this idea for a almst a year now and waited til ther twins bday to write it. I hope you enjoy.

WC: 2111

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

Fred and George causing a ruckus in the common room is a daily occurrence that everyone is accustomed to. However ever since the start of Year 7, the amount of commotion these two had caused can be counted in one hand.

At first glance, it could be attributed to NEWTS or in this year's case-to a pink toad acting as High Inquisitor. Still, more and more nights the twins had claimed the back corner of the common room.

~

The last remaining batch of students were making their way through Filch's checkpoint (an added security protection which also serves for Umbridge having a list of names on who comes in and out of Hogwarts). You glanced down at your watch- 2:27pm, they’re late. Weird, the twins never pass a chance to go to Hogsmeade.

You hear the castle door open behind you. Thank Merlin, you thought but instead you were greeted with a disheveled Angelina. “I’m coming! Wait!”

“Have you seen Fred and George?” You called as she ran past you.

“I think I saw them in the common room!” Angelina shouted back.

The common room? “What are they up to now?” You sighed. Stomping heavily up the stairs. “Ditching me….”

~

“Oi Weaslebees! I know you’re in here!” You rounded the corner of their secret spot. “AHa!”

You caught them red handed, midway into shoving papers into their “Weasley & Weasley'' Trunk. Though what they were hiding, you weren't exactly sure.

“Y/N!” Fred greeted, grabbing onto your shoulders, effectively covering George and the table. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Narrowing your eyes at him. “Really?” Hands on hips you blatantly say “2:15 am, courtyard?? Ring any bells?” Fred shook his head.

Meanwhile George’s head shot up. “Oh shit, y/n we’re so sorry!”

Fred turned to his brother, still clueless on what the heck George was talking about.

Abandoning the trunk, George gave his twin a classic smack on the head. “Hogsmeade, you idiot! We were supposed to all go together.”

“OHHHH FU--” Fred knew he was screwed. “I’M SO SORRY! WE’RE SORRY.” Seizing the messy trunk, he strategized. “Right, here’s the plan: I’m gonna quickly drop this off back in the dorm while you two make your way to the gate. If you run, I guess you can make it. I’ll catch up with you two then.”

“Fred….. We’re not gonna make it” you argued.

“Not if we don’t try.”

“It’s almost 3, Filch would be closing the gates by now.” You sat down on Fred’s empty seat. “Besides we can go to Hogsmeade next time, we could just hang out here. I miss having my best lads around.”

“Awww…we’ve been upgraded from annoying pricks to best lads!” Gushed George, pulling you into a side hug.

“Yea, I could help in whatever it was you guys were doing before I came. I don’t mind.”

At that, you could feel George tense up, his arm around you dropping. “Uhhh…” He looked to the older twin, silently conversing.

You gaze between the boys, sometimes they get so caught up in their scheming that they don’t notice that to others, especially those who had known them for years that their non verbal communication is not so sly.

In the end, Fred gave his brother a subtle shake. “No, that’s alright. I’ll just put this back and we could play gobstones or something, anything you like.”

As Fred headed up to his dorm room, you noticed a piece of paper under the table. Picking it up, the header caught your eye. RE: Lease Agreement. Were the twins looking for a new home after graduation? You didn’t mean to pry. You were close friends, they would tell you if they were moving right? This is big news….you decided to brush it off until another line caught your attention. The shop premise located at Number 93 Diagon Alley. Shop? They are trying to set up shop? That’s brilliant! The twins would get to showcase their inventions to the world! You could feel your pride swell. Leasing Agreements would not proceed if tenants, Mr. Fred Weasley and Mr. George Weasley, are unable to provide an endorser by the date of 31st of March.

“Where’d you get that?” George standing across from you, gobstones on one hand and another pointing at the document. There’s no backing out now.

“It was under the table.” You explained. “I didn’t know you were this far along with the shop.”

“Yea, well it’s not happening now is it?”

“What?”

“Cmon y/n. I know you read it.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright. We aren’t getting the place anyway.”

“Wait what? Why?”

“No endorsers.” George stated matter of factly but you sense the pain in his voice.

“How about your parents surely-”

George laughed. “As if mum would suddenly have a change of heart. You knew how she disapproves of our inventions, calling it a waste.”

“Arthur then.”

“Mum won’t let him.”

“Anyone then?” George huffed in defeat. “How about me! I could back you up.”

“You have to be an adult with a proven financial stability.” He stated, effectively shutting you down. “Forget it y/n. The hold ends in 3 days. We’ve tried everything. Just don’t let Fred know that you know. He’s devastated. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“And no pity, sad eyes!” He added as footsteps are heard descending the staircase.

“But I suck at poker faces!”

“Then let’s hope that Freddie is distracted even to not notice.”

~

It’s been 4 days since you had sent the letter to your father.

“Dear papa,

I know that this is a huge favour to ask but I believe it would be worth your while.

So remember back in the summer when you caught Fred Weasley, George Weasley and me snooping around with the Extendable Ears but let us go because you were so enamored?

Well turns out the twins and trying to get a shop up and running! How amazing is that?

The only problem is that they need an endorser to back them up in order to proceed with the lease agreements. The are currently on hold for the Shop Number 93 in Diagon Alley until the 31st.

This is where the huge favour comes in. Could you please be their backer? You did say that you’d love to help in some part in their invention, be an investor of sorts. Please papa. I would love to do it myself but I have to wait a couple more months to qualify. Plus it’s their 18th birthday on April 1st. Imagine their surprise if it were to come through.

I’d love to hear from you soon, regardless of your choice.

Your favourite child

y/n.”

The twin’s 18th birthday was spent with absolute love and madness.

Lee had unloaded his stash of butterbeer and firewhiskey, Fred had slipped Angelina with one of their new prank inventions- which changes the person into a sickly color of vomit green, a perfect way to ditch class or events.

Upon learning that the color would last for a few days and would only fade with the ingestion of an antidote, antidote that George said they still had yet to create. Angelina (understandably) threw cake at them. The Gryffindor chaser with perfect aim, hits its mark. However, Fred using his beater skills, instinctively blocks the incoming cake.

Resulting in a wide splat zone. Fred’s arm was covered in frosting, having sprayed everyone around him in whipped cream during the impact. George wasn’t safe too, despite being across from Fred, the rebounce of the cake had made him the new target.

You had just changed into your pajamas when a tapping sound came from your window.

Your family owl, Lanny, was outside carrying a large yellow envelope.

Quickly letting him in, you gave Lanny a gentle pat and brought out some owl treats for the tired bird.

Unscrolling the note tied to his leg, you begin to read.

“My dearest y/n,

My sincere apologies for the late reply, it’s been quite hectic at work.

In regards to your favour, you need not worry. Everything is taken care of. I had met with the landlord of Number 93 Diagon Alley and had all the documents settled. I had also gone and checked to make sure the two lads aren’t being ripped off. Fred and George had picked a nice prime location.

Greet them a happy birthday for me alright? And tell them that I look forward to witnessing them succeed in their endeavors.

They would undoubtedly be bringing a lot of much needed joy into these darkening times. The people would be thankful for them.

I also had Lanny bring the twins’ copy of the Lease Agreement.

I can’t wait to see you all soon.

Much love,

Papa.”

~

Fred was grateful that their friends had retired into the night, leaving him and George to sulk into the dreadful reality.

“We were this close Georgie, this close!” Fred winced, pinching his fingers close without touching.

“I know but there was nothing else we could have done.” consoled George but even he himself was having a hard time. Number 93 was the perfect location for their joke shop. But now it’s gone.They are back to square one, scouting for locations.

“Fred! George! There you are! I have great news!” You yelled, not caring if you could wake up the other students.

“Oi Y/N! Be careful!.” Even in a bad mood, Fred Weasley couldn’t help being protective.

You banged the envelope on the table. “Surprise! Happy Birthday! From papa and I.”

“Another gift?” wondered George.

“So you don’t want it then?” You challenged, crossing your arms. You tried to look intimidating but the pajamas weren’t doing any good. “Cause I bet a hundred galleons that you’d shit your pants if you were to reject it.”

“That confident eh?” Smirked Fred, taking the contents of the envelope out. “ What do you think is so grand that Georgie and I would---BLOODY HELL! Y/N!” Fred kept looking down at the paper and up to you, unbelieving.

“What is it Freddie?” asked George leaning over to read whatever it was that left his brother speechless.

Re: Lease Agreement

Mr. y/l/n has submitted his endorsement to Mr. Fred Weasley and Mr. George Weasley.

The turnover of the leasing property of Shop Number 93 Diagon Alley would begin on April 1st …..

“Oh My- Y/n? Is this real?” George whispered, afraid that if he were any louder this dream would end.

“Yes, absolutely, 100%.” You affirmed. “The shop is yours! Opff-”

George embraced you tight, catching you off guard. You could feel your right shoulder getting wet. “Heyya big guy, don’t cry.” Running a hand up and down his back.

“But how?” Fred with brows creased was still stuck in a trance, you could see the paper shake in his grasp.

“You left the agreement noticed a couple of days ago. I might have accidentally read it. George said to not let you know cause you might get angry-”

“YOu KNEW?!?”

“George only knew I saw the paper. Nothing else.” You defended. “I thought i might try and help, so I called in a favour with papa. You knew how much he was impressed with the Extendable Ear, so I mentioned if he wanted to back you up. I only got his reply just now, said he’d love to and got onto ironing out the paperwork and viola!” Pointing at the document. “Oh and he also said Happy 18th Birthday, looking forward to your success and the people would be thankful for bringing a lot of much needed joy into these darkening times.”

“Thanks Y/n but this is a lot we can’t possibly-”

You cut Fred off before he could say more. “Oh please, you have done countless things for me. And I know what you’re gonna say- but see you would do the same for me. Besides think of this as your first investors. We want to help. We see your potential, we know you two, Fred, George, are gifted with bringing laughter and joy to people with your inventions."

"Thank you, truly y/n and to your dad too." Fred admitted, opening himself up. "No one's really backed us up with our inventions before, we've been always told off for being childish. It really means a lot."

“Hey, it’s the lease I could do.” You replied, causing the twins to chuckle immediately lightening up the mood.

It's great to see them relax again after weeks of stressing over the shop. Times might be changing but at least tonight, you got your best lads back.

~

Everything Taglist : @gruffle1

HP Taglist: @onlyfreds

[gojoscloset]

“Hello, I just read your writing d**k appointment and I like it very much. And suddenly, I saw that you open the request NSFW dialogue prompts. Would you please write prompt 60 “Looks like someone wants to be a dad/mom” with Gojo or Megumi please 🥺”

Bahaha omg I’m so sorry I’m late as hell I’ve been busy with a lot mentally cause I have the attention span of a goldfish.

Please please enjoy, thank you so much for requesting lol. I’m back on my bullshit ✨

60. “Looks like someone wants to be a mom/dad”

WARNINGS: N S F W

Reposted from previous account

Smut obvs.

Breeding kink???? (if you squint)

Cream pie

Mentions of Pregnancy

No proofread??

————-

“Looks like someone wants to be a mom.”

You didn’t dare look away from what you thought had to be one of the cutest pairs of baby shoes you have ever laid your eyes on.

“Hmm? What do you mean? I just thought they were cute!” you lifted the pair of shoes up and gave your boyfriend a grin.

But Satoru was no idiot.

You see, these past few months have been filled with nothing but waves of emotions and ideas that you would have never thought you would have contemplated this early in life, but a pregnancy scare earlier in the year shook your world and turned it on its axis.

Of course you had imagined a life with Satoru, possibly married in the later years, and a potential family way wayyy down the line. However, you were content with where you two stood. A strong and healthy relationship, 2 consenting adults in love. But you also had to remember you were 2 powerful sorcerers in love. So even with your line of work, kids at the moment seemed really out of the question. Hell, even being in a relationship with someone like Satoru was a blessing with the lives you two lived. So even the idea of bearing his child seemed like you were asking for a lot from the universe.

When your period came late, all your little fantasies and thoughts of having a family took a step closer to becoming reality, you melted at the idea of becoming a mother and all your fears and doubts were thrown out the window.

But alas, the joy left just as fast as it came you were back on your regular schedule the day before your doctor's appointment. Relieved of course, but things weren’t the same.

Day after day you caught yourself indulging more and more in the idea of what your life would be like with a child. Would your first child be a girl or a boy? Whose features would they take on the most? Oh how you prayed to the gods that they would look more like Satoru than anything.

Would you be a good mother? Would Satoru be a good father? There was no doubt in your mind that he would be.

Don’t even get started on the names.

Your gaze would linger when you would pass up children and their parents at a park. Or when you would pass up baby clothes at the shopping strip, you would stop in your tracks and imagine your future child wearing that outfit.

Secretly you would shop for clothes online just to ‘see what they look like’ Or secretly read first time mom forums on breddit just to ‘See how it feels’ but it was so much more than just a passing curiosity.

And of course, You weren’t the only one who noticed the change.

You and Satoru have been in the love game for a respectable amount of time, and have spent the seconds, hours,days,weeks,months,years, in each other's presence. He would absolutely be able to acknowledge when you’d turn your head in the kids section or when your gaze would linger on the little girls in princess dresses at the market, corners of your lips curling just a little.

Or when a toddler at the grocery store handed him a fake phone,in which he pretended to answer with such enthusiasm you would almost believe he was actually on the phone with someone,he could visibly see how your heart melted at the sight. You looked at him like you wanted to marry him on the spot for the rest of the day. A personal favorite memory of his.

Satoru was a dumbass, but he was not stupid.

You didn’t know how much he loved seeing these little things, the little changes in you. Behind his tinted shades and through his long lashes, he would carefully watch your duality go from powerful sorcerer to something maternal.Something you never did in all the time he has known you until after the scare.

It made him want to jump your bones on the spot and put a baby in you every time, but you never brought up the topic despite seeming to be interested in motherhood, and respectfully he left it alone. But you had been caught red handed almost always.

Satoru held himself back when he had various opportunities to talk about it, do you know how hard that is to do as Satoru?

He wanted to press on. He wanted to pry and ask you all kinds of questions regarding the sudden change, but he knew that there was a time and place for everything, and now was definitely not the time nor location.

“Hey, not bad!” He allowed his glasses to slip off the bridge if his nose ever so slightly to get a better view.

“I would wear these if they came in my size”

He joked, you smacked his arm playfully and laughed.

“Cmon lets g-“

You were about to place the shoes back on the rack but he stopped you before you did. He pulled out his phone and snapped a few photos of the shoes and tag.

“I was being serious” he stated plainly, earning another laugh from the both of you.

——

The rest of the day went on as normal, for the most part. The little interaction at the store replayed not only in your mind but Satoru’s as well.

‘Did I make it too obvious?’

‘Did I overdo it with the shoes?’

‘Is it time to talk about it?’

—-

‘Toru..’ you whined but that didn’t stop him from continuing to bend you like a pretzel while plowing into you.

“Don’t be shy now, you look so good like this. ...And those faces you make....” he licked his lips reaching out to grab your jaw, thumb running across your lip.

Even though you were whining about the embarrassing positions he kept putting you in, your body was on fire and didn’t want this to end.

With every position he managed to go deeper and deeper, hitting places only he knew how to hit. He utilized the curve of his dick just how you liked it, grazing your favorite spots with every thrust.

The way your walls fluttered and clenched against his made them his favorite spots too.

It was crazy to you how Satoru knew your body like nobody else did. He knew every curve, every dip, every corner. He knew what made you weak in the knees and what you disliked with a passion. He knew what made you cream, what made you wet, what made your back arch and your toes curl.

“You like that Hmm?” He bucked his hips, folding your legs up, pushing your knees as close to your chest as possible.

He gazed into your eyes, watching the way your face wrenched in pleasure. He needed that, he loved that. Being able to see your expression contour and twist because of him, god it got him off.

He looked down at you, his usually spiky hair now flattened with sweat, strands sticking to the side of his face. He bit his lip, and gripped your hips with force, bruises were guaranteed.

He brought you closer, you slowed your breathing to control the ride. You two had been fucking long enough to know the Cues, the way your body twitched and the little sounds you would make when you were close triggered the muscle memory and he moved in the way he knew would push you over the edge.

“D..Don't slow down!” You commanded, throwing your head back into the sheets, the familiar tingling sensation starting at your core, his pace picking up, hands trailing down your abdomen, fingers circling around your clit, wet with its own slick.

He couldn’t help but suck on his own bottom lip watching your body rock in rhythm with his, the way your breast bounced, he couldn’t help but grab a handful.

“That’s right baby….” he spoke softly, voice just above the lewd sounds you two we’re making. The squelching, skin slapping skin, the gasping sounds when he would thrust back into you.

He was getting carried away, letting the words just spill from his lips. “Mmmm fuck yeah baby, you feel so fucking good.” He groaned “fuck around and put a baby in you-“

You had been with this man for many many moons, had been through thick and thin, but nothing had prepared you two for that awkward moment.

All movements ceased the second he stopped talking. Both of you pulled away and just looked at each other, embarrassment demonstrated on both of your faces.

Both of you seemed to think about the Barget incident, and then every other incident which made the dirty talk hit different.

“Sorry” Quickly he spoke, in hopes of somehow saving his ass in case things went south.

“W-what for?” You continued to try and mask your feelings about the situation(s), but nothing could get past his eyes.

He was no idiot, you knew that, but you still tried him, because sometimes he lets your shit slide. But not this time.

“Please y/n, I’ve seen the change in you.”

The air was thick, momentarily, but the smile on his face gave you clarity.

“The lingering looks, the shoes at the store… I’ve noticed” his large hands cupped your face, thumb brushing calming shapes against your cheek.

“Is there something we need to talk about?”

He released you from your position and sat up straight.

“Toru…do you really wanna talk about this now?????” Sheepish under the circumstances

“Don’t give me that. We’ve been together too long for you to try and play this game with me.”

His hands found their way to you once again. Pulling you by the wrists, he sat you up and made you look at him as he continued to speak.

“Communication remember?” He was soft, yet stern.

“You haven’t been the same since the missed period incident.” Your jaw dropped, he was on it even with the timing.

There was no sense in hiding anything anymore, this man knows all, this man sees all.

“I’d be lying if I said you were wrong….you see..” you began to pour your heart out, trying your hardest to keep eye contact with him.

“The pregnancy scare heightened the want for a family with you, Satoru. I envision a lot of things, and you being in my future for a long long time is one of them...”

He held your gaze while looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world. He listened intently like you were whispering the secrets of the universe to him.

“But I never brought up the topic of family because we’re-“

“Sorcerers” He finished the sentence for you, the small smile he held earlier now turned into a flat line.

The speed in which he did was almost enough to make you flinch. Bittersweet in a way,at least this confirmed that he too thought about a family with you at one point but considered the circumstances.

A“Exactly..” you continued. “And the scare made me realize what I want in life..with you. But it’s out of reach and it’s not something I wanted to project onto- “

His large hands placed themselves in either side of your face and Satoru showered you with kisses.

“I. Love. You. So. Much.” He spoke in between kisses.

“I love you too, but- AH!!! What are you doing??!”

Satoru pulled you by your ankles, placing himself in between your legs once again.

“Putting a baby in you, that's what.” He gave you such a sweet and loving look, it didn’t match the words that spewed from his lips.

“T-that’s not funny…” Quickly, you covered your entrance before he even thought about it.

“Exactly, because it wasn’t a joke sweetheart.”

“Wait, but what about-”

“We’ll be fine, i’m the strongest, remember?” he gave you a playful wink and grabbed your wrists, playfully prying your hands away, he wasn’t going to do anything though, not without your consent, but seeing how flustered he could make you fed the already enlarged ego he owned.

“Now tell me, do you want a boy or girl? Ooh, what about their names?”

“ Satoru… wait… are you sure? Don’t you wanna think about it a little more?”

He let out a playful laugh and pointed a finger dramatically at you, “Are you sure?”

Without missing a beat you nodded, you wanted this so bad, and by the looks of it, so did he.

“That’s all you had to say, let me take care of you, my pillow princess”

-------------

The sultry night was young.How many times have you came already? It didn’t matter.

His arms were wrapped around your entire body, holding you in place as he bounced you up and down his shaft.

“My pretty girl… my sweet sweet princess.” He whispered against your skin, tongue grazing from your collar bone up to your jaw, tasting your sweat. He wanted to breathe you in, and make you his air. The words replayed in his mind as he fucked you senseless.

“and you being in my future for a long long time is one of them...”

“Toru…” Your breathing hitched,, his praise made your walls twitch around him. He got the hint and immediately went to work. In a swift movement you were beneath his form. His skin glistening with a layer of sweat.

“ How do you want it?” he groaned, draping your leg over his shoulder while grabbing the other one, spreading you wider. You were grateful for the change of position, you have been wanting to touch him for a while now but the grip he had you in earlier was not letting it happen.

Your hands hungrily made his way to his chest and arms.

“As long...as I get it…” you managed to mutter through moans. His thrusts became erratic, a sign that he was coming undone as well.

“Look at me..tell me how you want it....tell me how you need it” he licked his lips with desire. You managed to look at him through half lidded eyes, giving him exactly what he wanted, he always did the same for you.

You lifted your hips up some, grinding harder against him, letting more of him fill you up, you could swear you felt his head kiss your cervix. You did a kegel, walls giving his dick a hug.

The actions earned you a breathy moan, he almost lost his cool, it threw off his pace momentarily but when he picked back up, the speed was doubled.

“You like to play dirty, hmm? “

“The only way I like to play…”

“Very well then” he said through grit teeth, finger moving to where you were connected, rubbing your clit in circles without mercy. You were pushed over the edge quickly, mouth Ajar, and body convulsing against him, his movements did not falter.

“That’s my good girl”

He lowered his body down mouth to cage you between his arms, droplets of sweat falling onto the sheets as he tried to avoid sweat falling into your eyes.

“Are you sure?”

He asked once again, not moving an inch until you gave him the go.

You simply stared up at him, goofy grin he always carried on him plastered onto his handsome face.

You gave him the go once again and he bucked his hips.

This particular moment was sweet sweet bliss. Normally Satoru would be careless with his movements when it came to chasing his orgasm, but not this particular one. His touches would linger, fingertips burning themselves into your skin with passion, making their way from your hips to your hands, large fingers filling in the gaps between your own.

His kisses were oh so immaculate. Sweet and soft, but most importantly, abundant.

And the way he spoke your name. Only Satoru could make his words come out like they were coated in honey.

His hips snapped and he gave your hand a squeeze, face in the crook of your neck, the hot breath against your skin forced chills down your spine, with you

“I love you so much…” he groaned into your ear. With a few more bucks of his hips you felt his seed spill into you. You were running on fumes at this point, overkill with the overstim, but that’s how you liked it.

You felt your clit throb, your walls still fluttering against him from your previous climax like they were sucking every last drop of out of him.

He looked down at you silently, but the look on his face, the calm waters in his eyes said everything he needed to say. You couldn’t tear away your gaze, you were already high off the blue dream.

His eyes moved from yours to your lips, they looked needy to him. He bent his head down and planted a kiss, despite the scenario, it was chaste. Innocent. Refreshing.

“I love you.” He repeated, though he had no doubt you felt the same. “I know you do...there is not a single doubt in my mind...and I love you oh so very much, more than I could ever put in words.”

There was another comfortable silence, however, the small smile that was on your face quickly turned into a flustered look when he pulled out of you and spread your legs open, looking at the mess he made inside of you.

“W-what the fuck are you doing?!!”

You laughed nervously and tried closing your legs, but he held them open, too strong for you to try and fight against it.

“I just wanted to see the masterpiece I made. Plus-“ he positioned himself between your legs again

“I’m not done, I want to make sure I get the job done right.”

He gave you a wink, and immediately you knew you were in for a long night.

A very very long night.

[thelastviolin]

Sometimes I stare at empty Word documents for hours. Sometimes I sit down and write 2k words. 

Inspired by The Script’s “Never Seen Anything Quite Like You”

HotchReid- Tonight

Link to A03 above.

Aaron Hotchner is a consummate professional. He takes pride in his ability to lead his team and in his team themselves. He has heard the whispers about how attractive his team is and how it can’t be a coincidence. Especially after his divorce, rumors abounded that he had cheated on his wife with a team member. But anyone who actually knew Aaron knew he would never cheat on a partner- he is as loyal as they come. Even if he had been inclined to cheat, he would never cross that line with a co-worker. Rossi may have been able to subvert the FBI fraternization rules without consequence, but Aaron cared too much about his career.

As he stood in a shadowy corner at the annual FBI fundraising gala and heard yet another conversation about the attractiveness of the BAU females, he couldn’t help but smile. Because Aaron is a consummate professional, but he isn’t blind. He knows his team wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of a magazine. He had even had to step in to prevent the PR department from using images of JJ and Derek in their latest recruiting campaign, citing their occasional undercover work.

Yes, Aaron could understand the stir his teammates were causing tonight, all dressed in their very best and casually schmoozing with D.C.’s finest, though never letting each other far from their sites. Penelope’s infectious laugh was echoing around the room. JJ’s charisma had some of the most influential lobbyists gathered around her, hanging on to her every word. Derek was casually flirting with these same lobbyists’ wives at the bar, using his immeasurable charm to command the attention of almost every female in the room. Emily was being twirled around the dance floor by the counterterrorism section chief, expertly hiding her disdain for the political machinations of all those who tried to cut in for a chance to dance with an ambassador’s daughter. But what Aaron could not understand was the absolute lack of gossip regarding their resident genius.

Dr. Spencer Reid, who was currently speaking with the director of the FBI, gesticulating wildly and grinning proudly when his story elicited a laugh from his companion.

Spencer Reid, who was wearing a dark grey suit that must have been professionally tailored to fit him so well. Even in his formalwear, his signature style was still on display. While the majority of the men were wearing traditional black and white tuxedos, he had paired his suit with a lavender dress shirt and deep purple tie. He was also the only guest wearing Converse rather than dress shoes, the shock of purple fabric causing Aaron to smile into his drink when he had first arrived.

Spencer, who was the most beautiful man Aaron had ever seen.

 He first noticed how shockingly beautiful the young agent was after the terrible events in Georgia. Aaron’s heart had raced as they rushed across the field to get to Spencer, who was kneeling over his captor’s dead body. As Aaron reached down to pull him to his feet, the flashlights highlighted Spencer’s cheekbones in a way that almost left Aaron breathless. And the moment that Spencer placed his hand on Aaron’s shoulder, expressive eyes shining with relief and gratitude, Aaron knew that Spencer Reid had just stolen a piece of his heart. Every team member had rushed to hug the agent, anxious to confirm for themselves that he had indeed survived the horrific ordeal. But Aaron couldn’t move, lost in the feeling of Spencer’s lithe body holding onto his for dear life.

But Spencer had struggled in the aftermath of his kidnapping and withdrawn from the team. Aaron’s marriage was crumbling around him and Gideon was becoming sullen and unreliable. He never had the chance to examine his feelings upon seeing Spencer alive, knowing that he had reached out to Aaron specifically, had trusted Aaron to understand his message. Aaron’s emotions had been spiraling out of control, as evidenced by his attempt to take on Chester Hardwick during the custodial interview gone awry. But once again, Spencer’s beauty had saved the day. His beautiful mind, his ability to spew facts at an overwhelming rate that often frustrated his teammates, had stepped up and saved Aaron from what would surely have been a brutal beating. When Aaron had apologized for antagonizing the serial killer and escalating the situation, he caught Spencer’s furrowed eyebrows in his peripheral vision. Never boasting, never censuring, Spencer had merely shrugged the apology off before staring out the window as they raced down the highway back home. Aaron struggled to keep his eyes on the road, so intrigued by Spencer’s relaxed profile and casual response to the situation. In his office after their return, he couldn’t focus on the report he was supposed to be writing, imagining the potential outcomes of the confrontation if Spencer hadn’t stepped up. When he heard Spencer describe the interview as ‘ultimately uneventful’, he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face, allowing him to pull himself from his morbid thoughts with a deep breath and return his attention to the task at hand.

The terror that gripped him upon hearing that Emily and Spencer had been taken hostage by a cult leader due to the incompetence of state officials caused his professional façade to slip as he bullied the attorney general off the site. Images of a beaten Spencer arose in his mind unbidden, threatening his ability to think clearly. Thankfully, Dave had handled the situation with grace, never questioning why Aaron seemed to be falling apart, and the sight of Spencer and Derek emerging from the burning ruins soothed the ache that had been growing within him. That Spencer had sought comfort in Emily’s arms rather than his own was of little consequence- just seeing that mess of hair, made worse by days of captivity and an explosion, reminded Aaron that there was still beauty in the world.

Years passed, and although Aaron was aware of his growing attraction to the young agent, it was never at the forefront of his mind, but merely a passing thought on occasion. Such as the case in which they searched for the Zodiak killer copycat. He hadn’t learned until later that Spencer had been questioning his position on the team and the best use of his intellect. Watching Spencer discredit the attention-seeking man conducting an impromptu press conference completely off the cuff had filled Aaron with pride, knowing that only a few years before Spencer would have never dared to challenge someone, especially in such a public manner. As they stood at the next crime scene, Aaron couldn’t help but be amazed at Spencer’s intellect and confidence. But what was even more awe-inspiring was the sight of Spencer, who was standing with his back to the mountains and the sun providing a halo around his silhouette. That damned purple scarf tucked around his neck and his coat cinched perfectly at his waist. And when he broke the case with his knowledge of obscure chess games, well, Aaron couldn’t be blamed for falling just a little harder. The smile on his face as the team celebrated his birthday after the resolution of the case was so innocent and so Spencer that Aaron had to force himself to stop at a handshake though the rest of the team was showering him in hugs, afraid that if he held the genius in his arms for just a moment he might never let go.

Seeing Spencer interact with Henry and Jack at JJ’s wedding was the final straw. In his tuxedo with a crooked bow tie, entertaining the boys with magic tricks, Spencer had never looked more beautiful to Aaron. His enthusiasm and zeal for life was like a balm for the soul- even the knowledge that Emily would soon be leaving the team couldn’t keep the half-smile off of Aaron’s face all night.

So yes, Aaron was a consummate professional, and although he was aware of the beauty within his team, he never acted on it. He kept his feelings to himself and kept himself on the periphery of the team when his feelings threatened to overwhelm him. He watched Derek tease Spencer about girls and dating and only felt the slightest twinges of jealousy (or so he told himself). He had even managed to keep the depth of his feelings hidden from Dave, his best friend and a seasoned profiler. Dave had dropped hints over the years, but Aaron took pride in his poker face and ability to sidestep Dave’s questioning.

But then Spencer showed up to the gala in that suit. Aaron knew for a fact that Spencer had never bothered to have a suit tailored, never caring enough about his appearance to justify the expense. And from the smirk that Dave was giving him from across the room, it wasn’t Spencer’s idea. Damn meddling profilers. For years, Aaron had been content to enjoy Spencer’s beauty from afar. But this…this was too much for any mortal man to bear, he decided. The stretch of the pants as Spencer leaned over the bar, showing a peek of a hot pink sock. The smile he shot Derek as his friend clapped him on his back, incidentally causing his suit jacket to tighten across his lean back as a blush bloomed down the back of his neck. Before he knew it, Aaron was halfway across the room, having downed the remainder of his watered-down drink. Almost a decade of friendship was potentially on the line, but Spencer had to know. Aaron had never seen anyone as beautiful, as handsome, as Spencer, as the young man before him now.

Spencer turned from the group of women Derek was attempting to introduce him to upon Aaron’s approach. His smile widened, and Aaron hoped that it wasn’t just because he found a reason to escape Derek’s matchmaking attempts. Aaron nodded towards a quiet corner near the exit where a small table had long since been abandoned in favor of the dance floor. Spencer smiled shyly as he ducked his head and made his excuses to Derek before allowing Aaron to guide him away with the subtle pressure of a hand on the small of his back. When they reached the exit, Spencer turned towards Aaron and cocked his head, confused as to why they had stepped away from the party but showing such trust in his eyes that Aaron had to take a deep breath. He had no words prepared and wasn’t sure that he could speak even if he had. Instead, he took a small step forward until their faces were merely inches apart. Spencer’s eyes widened but he didn’t step away. Hesitating, Aaron lifted his hand to cradle the side of Spencer’s face and almost sighed in relief when Spencer leaned into it and touched his lips to his palm.  

“You’ve been staring at me all night.”

“I don’t understand how everyone else has kept their eyes off of you. You are…gorgeous, Spencer. And I know you understand that I don’t say that lightly.”

Spencer looked down at his feet. “At first, I thought I was projecting. You looked at me with such intensity I thought I would burn. But no one said anything, so I assumed it was just wishful thinking. Then Rossi offered to tailor this suit for me to wear tonight, and when I asked why, he just smirked and said he still owed you a birthday present. So I let myself hope that he knew something I didn’t.”

Aaron dipped his head forward so their foreheads were touching. “He can be a meddlesome ass, sometimes. But this may be the best present he has ever given me. God, Spencer, you don’t even know how long…”

“No. Not exactly. I could guess, but it’s not really important, is it? What matters is that you said something tonight. And if you can’t tell- Aaron, I have been gone on you for years. Possibly from the moment we met. Everyone that the team tried to set me up with, none of them compared to you. You set the bar impossibly high, you know.”

Aaron smiled. “I’m sorry it has taken me this long. I was trying to remain professional. But the way you look tonight…well, I’m about to prove to the entire room that I have very unprofessional feelings for you unless you stop me.”

Spencer looked up at Aaron through his eyelashes. “Why would I do that?”

Aaron’s hand slipped from Spencer’s cheek to the back of his neck as his other hand snaked around the younger man’s waist and pulled him impossibly closer into a searing kiss. As he felt Spencer respond, tugging at the lapels of his suit jacket, Aaron decided that he would be content to do this for the rest of his life. He had been a consummate professional for his entire career- he was due for a scandal. And where better to set tongues wagging than in front of the entire FBI? He smiled into the kiss before gently pulling away, grabbing Spencer’s hand and gesturing towards the exit. Spencer smiled back sweetly and followed him out before turning around and looking back at Dave, who lifted his glass in their direction with a smile.

[the-lady-writes-what]

Knees

Summary:

The League kidnapped you so that you could be a sweet prize for Katsuki Bakugo, who just joined their ranks. In a failed escape, he catches you and brings you home. You don't know what form of punishment Katsuki's decided for you, but his method is certainly an unorthodox one.

Villain!Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Naturally, all minor characters are aged up. I do not write minor x adult relations.

Warning! Contents may include themes of kidnapping and dub con. Reader's discretion is advised.

Contents: spanking, thigh riding, degradation, rough riding, cream pie, slightly or implied overstimulation

“Come here,” he said.

It wasn’t a request; it was an order. Your feet lightly padded across the bedroom. Since the day you were taken as a prize—a reward for Katsuki Bakugo to thank him for switching sides—your life had never been the same. However, those were a poor choice of words regarding your circumstances. You never had any dealings with heroes or villains. You’re just an ordinary, quirkless civilian trying to make a life. You didn’t imagine that meeting the former hero would have such an impact on either of you. Katsuki thought himself madly in love with you for whatever reason. Becoming a villain only solidified his mad form of love. Only now, there were no ethical or moral scruples of a hero to hold him back.

Most days, you were more like his chew toy. Katsuki liked to leave his teeth all over you. Purple bruises were all over your neck, shoulders, collar bone, and everywhere he could sink his teeth. Other days, when you decided to behave for him, you came around his fingers or tongue stirring up your insides. He’d finish himself in the bathroom afterward, a small grace.

Today, however, you doubted you’d be so lucky. For today, of all days, you almost got far enough. You jimmied the latch to your window and climbed down the fire escape. Nobody noticed your absence as you kept yourself quiet. When Katsuki found you missing, he went out on a hunt. If only you’d moved a little bit faster, you might have gotten away with it. The poor witnesses could do nothing as Katsuki blasted a hole into the street to create the perfect smokescreen of escape. He carried you back on his shoulder, kicking and screaming the whole way back to base. The rest of the League made a hasty retreat or otherwise made themselves up a scheme to get out of the HQ. Nobody apparently wanted to hear what Katsuki planned to do to you that evening. Funny how they always seemed to stick around for the other stuff. They fled like rats chased out of their hole. You imagined that Katsuki’s wrath was worse than his bark, even with other villains.

He had kicked the door in and dropped you on the floor. Katsuki stepped across the room first after kicking the door closed and locked it tight. He ran his hands through his hair and wiped the sweat from his brow. You watched him pace the other side of the room, huffing, growling, and swearing like a madman or an animal. Probably a combination of the two. There were several things you expected him to do once he dragged you back to base. Pull you by the hair and throw you unto the bed where he’d spent the rest of the night ravaging you. Blow your head off your shoulders by the use of his quirk. Beat you into a bloody pulp. This you weren’t expecting. Katuski burned a hole into the floor while he ranted. You were so frightened that you couldn’t even offer a simpering apology or beg for your life. You huddled yourself into the corner and waited.

When at long last, Katsuki gathered himself into a more stable state, he stopped pacing. Red eyes pinned you to the wall like a butterfly exhibit. His eyes trailed up and down your body as it shivered beneath his gaze. Slowly, Katsuki began removing bits of his clothing. His gloves came off first. When both of his hands were bare, Katsuki held one out to you. He said those words expecting you to obey.

For your sake, you did.

Your legs moved automatically across the room. Your knees knocked together as you walked towards him. It was unwise to not accept his hand. You placed your cold, clammy palm on his warm one. Katsuki’s fingers squeezed around you and yanked on your arm until your face was planted in his chest. His other hand stroked the back of your head and gently petted your hair.

“Don’t fucking scare me like that again, dumbass. Why can’t you just stay put like you’re supposed to?”

The moment would have been infinitely more tender if the League of Villains hadn’t gift-wrapped and delivered you to him. He was far sweeter than you ever expected. Katsuki spent the last fifteen minutes cursing and raving only to be reduced to someone far too humane for his personality and career choice. Why he gave up heroism was still a puzzle and one you’d likely never solve. Why he picked, you were another. Katsuki held you close. You reluctantly fell for it, even though the hand on your head could easily activate his quirk any second he chose. You thought that this was all just a ploy to lower your guard so he could kill you. You waited with bated breath, yet Katsuki held unto you longer than any murderous scheme deemed necessary. You weren’t struggling or wilting in his arms. If he was going to kill you, now would be a good time.

Maybe put you out of your misery.

“You realize that I’m gonna have to punish you, you know? Had me scared to death and made me chase after you. You weren’t on your best fucking behavior like you promised me.”

And there it was. The fated guillotine sliced through the air. Well, then, if Katsuki wasn’t going to kill you, what was he going to do?

You found out a second later. Your flimsy dress was ripped down the middle and pulled off. The straps burned your shoulders as Katsuki harshly tugged at your only clothing, giving little care about how to treat you. He sat down in the large armchair by the window. His red eyes looked at you up and down. Leering, his gaze drifted from your face to your breast and traveled further south. Katsuki stopped at the apex of your thighs before traveling back up to your face.

“That’s a more befitting uniform, you know? I should have you waiting for me like this every night. For my eyes only.”

You shivered at his words, wondering if he was serious. You hated the way he looked at you. It was a long time coming, and maybe tonight would be the night. He certainly teased you long enough. Your eyes briefly glanced down and gulped. Katsuki was hard already if the growing tent in his black pants meant anything. No clearer sign could be made for you unless Katsuki painted the words on the wall behind the bed, ‘I’m horny, and I want to fuck you.’ He’d go so far to be crude. You suspected that he enjoyed watching you cringe and squirm whenever he used that filthy language. He must have thought that it made you excited for him.

Maybe a little. But you weren’t about to tell Katsuki that.

Katsuki crooked his finger towards you. Repeating the words, “Come here.”

You took a baby-step towards him, but you moved slower than his tastes required. Katsuki grabbed your wrist, hauled you into his lap, and had you seated on his knee in a flash. The world spun briefly. When it became clear again, all you saw was Katsuki’s smug face. His hands squeezed your hips as he moved you up and down his leg, making sure that your clit rubbed against the rigidness of his knee.

Your cunt tightened on his leg, and Katsuki must have felt that. His fingers hardened around your hips, pushed you up faster, and bounced his knee against your core. He moved one hand off in favor of groping your ass. You winced when his fingers started bruising you, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Katsuki relieved you of his touch on your ass for a brief second before his palm down. The smack reverberated in the room. By instinct, your hands grabbed his shoulders after the impact. Your body rode the shockwaves of the first hit and didn’t have time to prepare for the second or third.

Katsuki bounced his knee with fury. You had no choice to but hold him to keep yourself balanced. His hand came down again and massaged the bright red skin. His other hand groped the other cheek, also leaving bruises.

“Getting wet, are we? I can feel you soaking my pants, little slut.”

You gritted your teeth. You never hated Katsuki more than when he degraded you with vile names. As if getting you kidnapped and keeping you prisoner wasn’t dehumanizing enough. Sweat beaded down the side of your face while he made you move with his body. His rock-hard leg was a poor substitute for his real member, this was simply unsatisfying torture. For you, anyway. Katsuki wore a demonic grin. He thoroughly enjoyed himself because he didn’t mind you trying to squirm out of his hold. It wouldn’t have worked at any rate. Not with you being perfectly quirkless and malleable.

“What’s the matter? Don’t like being called ‘slut’?” Katsuki ran his hand down your spin and grabbed the back of your neck. “What should I call you then? Pet? Slave? My bitch-in-heat?”

You could spit in his face if one well-placed thrust of his knee didn’t knock the wind out of you. Your head was knocked backward; your jaw unhinged. Katsuki’s fingers went to your inner thighs and spread open your lower lips. Fluids were leaking out of you, most of which against your will. You couldn’t stop your body from feeling good. And Katsuki knew when you were enjoying yourself, even despite yourself. That’s what you hated most of all. How he could make you feel against your will. You hated that he could make you wet and needy and desperate for his cock to the point you’d do or say anything for the chance to have him fuck you. This whole time was likely a long game of cat and mouse to him, waiting patiently for you to give in. Gods, did you hate him. You hated him but wanted him inside at the same time. The bounce of his leg against your cunny had you feeling things that you shouldn’t be having. Yet, here you were, gasping and practically moaning for the man to shove his cock inside you, no questions asked.

“What’s the matter, my little bitch? Don’t like that one either? Too bad. You should see the look on your face. You’re fucking wet for me, and I have haven’t even stuck in yet. Or do you want more of this?” Katsuki’s slapped his hand on your ass again.

The sting had your cunt squeezing on his leg. It was far worse than embarrassing. You gasped louder for him this time.

“Let me hear more of that!”

Katsuki brought one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked hard until it was red as his eye. He grabbed your hips again with both hands to drive you on his knee. The force of his leg bouncing against your clit made you clench. Your nails dug into his shoulders. Crying aloud, you felt your dam burst. A blush rushed to your face when you realized what you’d just done. Katsuki let go of your breast with an audible pop. He dove his hand between your legs and grinned madly at the juices flowing out of you.

“Not wet for me, huh? We haven’t even started, and you just came all over my knee. What did I say? You’re a filthy bitch, aren’t you?”

You were still high off your orgasm before you realized that he moved his hand to his pants. The sound of the zipper creeping down snapped you back into reality. Your legs were pushed open wider to accommodate him. Katsuki untucked himself from his pants. His thick cock stood at attention, a bead of pre-cum leaking from his member’s blunt end. Without warning—you’d been prepped enough—Katsuki lifted your hips to hover over his body. You shook your head, but it was too late. You felt Katsuki impale you on his cock. Katsuki forced you to straddle him as your cunt sucked him. His cock met with little resistance.

“Fucking tight,” he grunted. He thrust upwards and made you yelp.

The fit was indeed tight. Katsuki might as well have jammed his whole fist up in there. The bulging veins rubbed your sensitive walls, and you were gushing again. Katsuki moved your body as he saw fit. This seemed to please him for only a while. He grabbed the back of your neck again and pulled you close. Your lips were sealed by a harsh kiss. Katsuki’s too white teeth nibbled at your lower lip. He pawed at your ass and hips as if urging you to move with him. Your arms trembled as you held onto dear life.

“Ride me, bitch. Ride me like you fucking mean it.” His order was followed by another slap on your cheek.

You lifted your hips just enough to pull him half out before slamming back down. You repeated the movement until you found yourself falling into a steady rhythm. You watched through half-lidded eyes Katsuki lean back into his chair to enjoy the show.

“Look at those tits bounce. Delicious.” He took the other nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, lapping his tongue over the taught bud.

You continued bouncing and shifting your hips. There was pressure building inside your lower belly. Katsuki’s upward thrusts were getting sloppy. He was ready to cum too. You rammed your hips faster, riding his cock as if your life depended on it. His big, strong hands trailed up your sides from your hips and held onto your waist. You were lifted but not separated. Katsuki carried you over to the bed without stopping, keeping you moving on his cock. The mattress fell beneath, and you felt the sheets cool your sweaty back. Katsuki stood above you, rocking his cock inside your body still. You lay there for a while, merely staring up at him.

Katsuki grabbed your hips one more time and shoved himself deep. Your walls fluttered around him. You came undone without him doing much more. Your juices sloshed around because his hips didn’t stop when you did. You felt his member harder than before ravage your insides and press against your walls. Everything that Katsuki wad made of filled your senses. He was on you, in you. You tore at the sheets while he rearranged your guts. His pace bruised you where you knew you wouldn’t walk straight for a week.

“You’re not going anywhere…for a while, little bitch. This…this is what you’re going to do every night until…you understand that…you belong to me!”

Katsuki slammed his hips against you. His rhythm was thrown off course by his desire to mark you from the inside out. Your body bounced in time with his wild thrusts.

“Mine, mine, mine,” Katsuki repeated the mantra as he shoved himself fast, deep, and hard into you.

With a roar, he finished. Your lower belly was warmed by his cum filling your walls. Katsuki remained buried there between your legs. His arms shook as he braced himself on the bed with his hands fisting the sheets next to yours. He was careful not to fall on top and smother you. You felt his cock pulsate in your body as the last dribble of cum leaked. When Katsuki, at last, pulled out, some inevitably slipped out. He didn’t bother cleaning you up or try to shove it back in. Uncomfortable, you shuddered while staring at your pussy bared open to him with his cum seeping out. You watched his tongue slip out to lick his lips. Did he want to go another round? Your muscles ached, and your pussy throbbed almost in pain; you loathed the idea of going again so soon.

“I’m keeping you like this. Have my cum dribble down your pretty thigh. Any no good extra is gonna know who you belong to. Ain’t that right, my little bitch?”

Katsuki kissed you, and you didn’t push him away. His tongue invaded your mouth just as his cock reentered you. You whimpered as it hardened within you. Katsuki merely chuckled at your whimper and began the dance anew.

                                                  Original can be found here

[bellamyroselia]

Who could replace Hades as the new big bad? Overly long essay

Like pretty much everyone else in this fandom, I love Hades. Guy’s your typical pure evil villain with a personality larger than life itself and he’s having so much fun with it that it’s contagious. Every time he pops up, I’m delighted to see him. It’s so fun to see him do his shtick and have the time of his life with it, which also makes beating him feel so great. After all the crap he has put the main cast through, it’s so satisfying to blast him into the face because for a moment that confidence finally breaks and once it's all over, people cheer because they don’t have to live in horrible fear for a while at least. This characterization is mostly rooted on the sheer fear factor Hades had in the eyes of ancient people - even in civilizations which have rather chipper afterlife people tended to prefer living over dying, and this of course meant that they were absolutely terrified of the Underworld deities. Hades was mostly addressed by epithets in texts because people thought that if they called him by his name, they were drawing his attention and the last thing a sane person wants is the attention of an powerful god who has power over the dead. So if a god has this level of appeal, be it positive or negative, you may not even need excessive amount of mythological content to create a frame for a character!

This being said, I don’t believe his chances of coming back are as the big bad of a next game are high - that is unless we have to wait another 15-20 years to get a new game, but I’d like to be more hopeful than that. So if he isn’t coming back, who could possibly replace him as the new big bad of Kid Icarus? It’s not like the writers could ever run out of source material because there’s so many monsters to deal with and every god is more or less morally grey, meaning that there’s many possibilities for new bad guys regardless of the scale.

This took a lot longer than I originally expected and I’m sorry for that - there’s no worse idea than to jump into a rabbit hole and bringing a shovel with you because things will quickly spiral out of control into new interesting directions. The more info I gathered, the more interested I was on looking more into it and sometimes it even spiraled out of mythology into history and philosophy. If you’re interested on some specific reasons for why this took so long, here’s few: myths are long and there’s many different versions of them, epics are even longer, Peloponnese people couldn’t be bothered to write their own things down so I had to look what travelers wrote down, it takes Plato way too long to get into the point, Herodotus never gets into the point, someone translated the term metic as resident alien of all things which I thought was the funniest thing ever and Ludovisi Ares is really pretty.

This is the point where I give the obligatory warnings, so here - since I'm discussing mythology here, it's inevitable that there's some talk about violence and death. I'm not going to linger on the gruesome details, but know that it's there. At couple points this will spiral into a full-on history lesson because I thought that understanding the historical context was important regarding the topic I was discussing. Also this is a one long essay - and by long, I mean really, really long. If you want to read it all at one sitting, prepare some time for yourself. But with that all out of the way, let’s jump straight into the discussion on who could be the next possible big bad, shall we?

I’m limiting this mostly to the main 12 Olympians with the addition of some other big names to keep things simple - while some smaller mythological figures such as Arachne or Arke would work fantastically as villains, they don’t have that recognition or presentation the more well known characters have. We’re trying to speculate who could fill Hades’ shoes as the new main bad guy here after all, not who we could add on the list of great yet less significant antagonists like Medusa, Pandora and Thanatos. I’m excluding Zeus, Athena, Hephaestus and Demeter from this list for rather obvious reasons - Zeus because the the guy seems to be MIA for good so Palutena could rule the place, Athena and Hephaestus because Palutena and Dyntos practically are them and Demeter because Viridi pretty much is Mycenaean Demeter on steroids in a package way too small to contain all that anger within. I also don’t think her relationship with Pit and Palutena will change drastically, so she’s sitting comfortably on her friendenemy-zone.

As for already existing characters, I don’t think anyone of them could snatch the title of the big bad. Viridi is off the competition for already mentioned reasons and I don’t see anyone from Forces of Nature defecting to become the new main villain. Pyrrhon is either gone for good or went back to whatever is this world’s equivalent of Egypt to lick his wounds, so I don’t think he’s coming back anytime soon - and if he’s coming, I don’t think he’s coming back as a main bad guy since he really wasn’t one to begin with. Thanatos’ only major mythological appearance is the myth of Sisyphus capturing death which doesn’t exactly strike confidence on his abilities in general and if that version of Thanatos couldn’t do his job correctly when meeting one guy too stubborn to die, do you really think that I believe our Thanatos has any chances of becoming the new big bad? Bringing back Medusa would be beating a dead horse at this point unless they really twist the formula and I don’t think that’s going to happen, so Medusa is off the competition. Pandora wasn’t all that big of a threat to begin with, so if she comes back she most likely stays that way. So it’s definitely going to be a new character, but who could it be?

As for who for sure can’t replace Hades as the new main bad, it’s Hestia. She probably has the lowest chance of any big Greek god to even appear in a possible future Kid Icarus game simply because there’s next to no material of her and that’s for a good reason. She was the goddess of hearth, domesticity, family, home and state. Most of these were and still are considered private, so that explains why there’s very little material of Hestia actually doing anything - we don’t write epic poetry about cleaning the house, making a macaroni casserole for dinner or going to bathroom and so didn’t the ancient people. With Hestia, you’re dealing with the bare bones of a character because she’s so passive and non-confrontational figure. It would be hard to make her a central figure in any kind of plot, especially for a one centered around action, so she’s out.

Hermes is also a figure I don’t think would work as a big bad or as an antagonist in general and I don’t really have any concrete reasons for why I think so. I just feel that he would be unfit for the role. He’s a trickster who started his shenanigans on the day he was born and the rest is mythology - by cunning escapades and underdog tactics he became the messenger of gods and from that point onward he kept collecting even more jobs such as becoming the god of merchants, shepherds and thieves, being a psychopomp, guiding dreams and helping heroes whenever he felt like it. He has a lot of going on but he’s always regarded as someone who knows all the tricks and isn’t afraid to use them, not all bad for a guy whose name was derived from a word meaning a pile of rocks.

As for why I think Hermes would make an terrible antagonist is mostly because of his status as the god of thieves and how it’s pretty much the easiest way to turn him into an antagonist. The thing here is that I just can’t stand antagonists whose main thing is that they’re amazing thieves and/or tricksters in games. While I think they can be enjoyable in other forms of media if they’re written on a smart way, in games this is almost never the case because gameplay and story don’t always match perfectly and writers need to use cheap tactics to make the character work - and by cheap I mean either A.I stands for artificial incompetence and the character is simply bad at being a thief/trickster despite all the characters and lore saying otherwise or that the game just starts cheating against the player to make them feel dumb even though they did nothing wrong. Thieves and tricksters are just really hard to balance in a game when it’s not the player character doing the deceiving. That perfect sweet spot for a great character is too goddamn tiny and if the thief/trickster isn’t exactly in there, you have an annoying character either because they’re incompetent at their job or because computer is a cheating bastard. So while there’s many enjoyable antagonists who share traits with Hermes, combine them all into a one character with the problems I already mentioned and most of the time you have a figure everybody hates due to how infuriating they’re to deal with. We’re trying to make people interested of going on and seeing what happens next here, not trying to annoy them to the point where they can just drop the game and never pick it up again. As for another reason I don’t think Hermes would work all that well as an antagonist is because his whole shtick is that despite his incredible powers, he still manages to be an underdog. Needless to say, the way underdogs are represented in media is vastly different from the way major antagonists are and while it can work, it’s hard to pull off. And of course there’s the thing of Hermes being portrayed almost always as a positive figure in myths, meaning that I and many others have a hard time imagining him as a bad guy. At his most evil we imagine Hermes doing stuff such as saying to his nephew that grandpa equals target practice, not anything that could threaten the world. Though if Hermes is included into the cast of a future game, I can image him having a theme that sounds similar to the BW rival theme for some reason. It has that I’m a one chipper fella but I’m also extremely busy right now so goodbye for a moment, see you soon-energy in it that I associate with Hermes.

As for what kind of role Hermes could be playing, he could work rather well as a quick cameo like Poseidon was in KI:U, where he offers help in some form. If one wants to go deeper into it, he could possibly run some service since he was the god of merchants and trade as well - though if one want to involve the fact of him being the god of thieves in addition to previously mentioned things, make him an occasional scammer because that’s what one would expect from a trickster. Or have him as a boss in a training gauntlet. Works either way.

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If Artemis was introduced into the series, I don’t think she would be antagonistic. I can totally see her having a cold personality and her being bit of a hard person to deal with, but I don’t see her being actively malicious character - only example of Artemis being overly cruel towards figures KI-characters seem to be based on would be her sending the Calydonian boar to cause chaos in Calydon. It’s interesting if you believe Magnus and Gaol are at least partially inspired by Meleager and Atalanta like I do, but I don’t think it’s enough to make Artemis an antagonist, much less the main villain so she’s off the competition. Not to say she isn't wrathful, I looked into it and her wrath far outnumbers her blessings, though it's rather messy at times and some of them even can't co-exist the ones about Orion and Callisto definitely can't but her wrath is divorced from the main KI-cast. You'd have to create new characters to excuse it and KI already has a rather large cast, so I don't think it would be all that wise to create new characters just for the sake of goddess cursing them for a plot line that's resolved in couple chapters. Maybe she’s just a cameo or possibly a boss in a training gauntlet.

Apollo would be an antagonist. I just don’t see any other way how he could be introduced into the series. He has potential to be a charismatic, funny and mostly harmless antagonist who isn’t there to cause any trouble, he just really hates Pit and only Pit. But why would he hate Pit? It’s not like the mythological Apollo dislikes Icarus or Perseus and that’s indeed true, but there’s one more thing. For a god who we associate with a celestial body mostly made out of hydrogen and helium, Apollo has extremely high levels of sodium chloride within him - which is to say that he has been salty starting from the moment Hermes robbed him that one time and that lake of salt inside him has only become larger ever since. That salt is directed at people he dislikes and while he doesn’t dislike Icarus or Perseus because he never met either of them, guess who he does dislike? Angel-like gods, or just Eros to be more specific.

The story goes that Apollo’s enormous ego took the better of him one day and so he started to mock his nephew for what he thought was mediocre use of the bow and arrow. Insulted Eros decided that Apollo had officially lost his uncle-license which led him to curse Apollo to have the worst love life imaginable, starting with Daphne. And as we all know Cupid is Roman version of Eros and Pit is named after Cupid, so this was hatred made in heaven and it would be disappointing to not use the opportunity when it has been given to us on a golden platter. And you don’t even have to come up with an detailed and intriguing story to explain why Apollo hates him - something could’ve very well happened during the three years Pit’s consciousness was in that ring. His body may have ruined Apollo’s chances to hit it off with people because it was destroying their cities or something similar. Or just leave it as a noodle incident that’s referenced multiple times, everyone wonders what the heck actually happened but only Apollo knows, refusing to tell the story because he just assumes that everyone already knows it and they’re just messing with him by pretending to not know. Either way, Apollo should be an antagonist if he’s featured in a sequel. Not a villain, definitely not the big bad but fun antagonist to deal with.

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This is something that most of you probably already know or at least you would know if you’ve actually read something other than Ovid’s Metamorphoses, or as I like to call it Jaded man screams at Emperor Augustus because apparently telling the Roman citizens to go all out on every monument the prude ever built clearly wasn’t enough, please tell me you have but Medusa isn’t an only child. She’s in fact one of Phorcys and Ceto’s seven children, both of them being somewhat monstrous primordial ocean deities - Phorcys has been described as a merman with red skin and crab claws, Ceto’s name in the other hand just literally means sea monster. Besides Medusa and the two other gorgons Stheno and Euryale, the list of their children includes the graeae sisters, serpentine dragon Ladon and Echidna, which is quite a lot of snake monsters for two deities who themselves don’t have any snake traits. There’s a lot of potential in this group but ideas of any of them becoming the new big bad end up falling apart because just like Medusa, they’re all rather bland characters like you’d expect from a mythological monster. They’re less like characters and more like plot devices that the hero needs to deal with. The only two members of this family besides Medusa who actually get to do something of importance are Ladon and Echidna and even those acts aren’t all that interesting. Echidna gets to have her many monstrous children with Typhon and then she’s apparently is killed by Argus, Hera’s servant-giant while sleeping on a cave just like her sister. Ladon guarded the garden of Hesperides which was well known for its golden apples and he doesn’t get to die with much dignity either, since Heracles just shoots him in the back and literally the next day other Argonauts find nymphs looking at his still twitching body. Alternatively Heracles just tricks Titan Atlas to do all the apple picking, which leaves Ladon alive.

Possibly one of the biggest problems writers have to deal with is setting. Ladon is very strictly tied into the garden setting and Echidna was cave dweller who never left her home, so writers would have to come with rather specific situations for them to appear. Of course if one wants to be lazy, Underworld could possibly serve as their home. It could very well house caves big enough to house a snake monster and Greek Underworld does have Elysium, which is basically Paradise and it could very well also function as a garden. But honestly even with the right setting, I don’t think either of them would make all that interesting big bads. They would definitely work fantastically as large-scale villains, but they don’t really have that much intimidation factor all things considered - you can blame Argus and Heracles for that.

But I’m not done with this family yet as there’s one character connected to them who’s probably the most feared monster of all Greco-Roman mythology and that’s Typhon, Echidna’s mate. He’s essentially an ancient Greek equivalent of a kaiju, more a destructive force of nature than a monster and everyone fears him - and by everyone, I mean everyone. There’s couple of versions of what happens but the most popular one goes that when the gods saw him, their first instinct was to shapeshift into animals and flee into Egypt. Those who did stay behind such as Hades were said to cover in fear in their homes while Typhon ravaged the land. Zeus tried to fight him but when he went for the kill, Typhon caught him and cut off his sinews, then threw him into a cave under the watch of another snake monster Delphyne. This didn’t stop Hermes and Pan from getting the sinews back and saving Zeus, and once his strength has been restored he and Typhon fought once again. Zeus eventually wearied Typhon down and then either casted him down into Tartarus or dropped a mountain on top of him, that being Mount Etna.

He could work very well as a big bad, problem here are just how high the stakes need to be for him to work. He’d had to be the ultimate villain if that was the case, the stakes need to be higher than they were with Hades. And considering how Hades was pretty much your typical pure evil villain causing chaos, what separates Typhon from him? Just some more chaos and no wisecracking dialogue because everyone is too scared to talk? He comes off as way too similar to Hades without all the fun personality. Maybe if KI:U became a KI:U-trilogy he could work as the ultimate big bad of the last game, but I got to say no otherwise. The bar for making him work is already sky-high due to how destructive he is and we don’t want to repeat the plot of Uprising here. So while he definitely can work, maybe save him for later.

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Hera and Poseidon both have potential to be serious antagonistic forces, but I don’t think they have it to be main villains. Hera simply fits the bill because most of the times she’s the antagonistic force actively trying to make people’s lives worse, all because she can’t direct her anger at correct people. Some times she’s just blatantly evil, like how she imprisoned her own daughter Eileithyia or you may better know her as Lucina to prevent the birth of Artemis and Apollo or how she tricked her pregnant great-granddaughter into disintegrating herself Semele is her great-granddaughter by the way. As for examples of Hera being wrathful which don’t involve Zeus being horny, she was said to be the one who sent Sphinx to Thebes, no reason given why or if there’s one, I couldn’t find it. Works either way.

Because she might as well be the personification of divine wrath, it’s pretty easy to see why one would think she would make a great villain. However that wrath also gives us a big problem, it being that her evil escapades are mostly rooted on anger and spite - while wrath is a good driving force for a villain, it needs more to work. With Hades, he does evil things for fun and is having a blast while doing it. Hera on the other hand just rages and most of the times it’s because of Zeus, who seems to be out of the picture. She’s not there to have fun and when you add her general lack of charisma on the top, you don’t end up with the most endearing character. While wrath can serve as a character motivation, it can become stale very quickly and this means that unless the story regarding villainy her is short (as in solved in 1-3 chapters) it starts to feel like dragging. I overall think that Hera does have very low chances to appear in general, but if she does appear as an antagonist she should preferably be a minor one in the same way Viridi was. You know the meme of what makes villain a supervillain and the answer is presentation? Hera doesn’t have that presentation. Writers can certainly just give her that which is what they did with Hades whose mythological counterpart was more or less a basement dweller, but why go trough all that trouble when there’s so many better candidates to work with?

On to Poseidon, who’s an important figure in the founding myth of Athens - it’s honestly quite odd how it’s never mentioned in any shape or form in KI:U despite Palutena being based on Athena. But then again, considering how much “care” this series put on the names of its cities and towns, this being ignored doesn’t really surprise me even if it does disappoint. He was a really big deal during the Mycenaean period, besides being the god of ocean he was also seen as the head god and the ruler of the Underworld. Then the Late Bronze Age collapse happened and Poseidon was nerfed in the lack of better words - during the Dark Age, Zeus became the new head god and Hades popped seemingly out of nowhere, taking over Poseidon’s role as the god ruling the Underworld. On the other news Poseidon’s antagonistic potential is somewhat dwarfed by the fact that most of his escapades involve banging and they don’t really feature any figures the main cast of KI seem to be based on. It’s annoying because he does so much but because it’s mostly banging people and either helping or bullying very specific heroes, it’s just not something that’s all that relevant in the context of KI. But there’s couple myths and stories that would make him an easy bad guy, first one is that of Atlantis - and we’re going to jump straight to the source material because on it’s core, it’s technically just another tale of Athena and Poseidon having a conflict. Fish people under the sea is fun as well, but by using the source directly it gives us the most potential.

So Plato tells in his dialogues Timaeus and Critias that when Athenian statesman Solon visited Egypt, he found some interesting records about certain events during 10th millennium BCE and translated them into Greek. Only thing here that’s true is Solon visiting Egypt, everything else was made up Plato - if you need more proof, know that 10th millennium BCE was during the stone age for context, Britain wasn’t sharing a land border with just France, but also with Belgium, Netherlands, Germany and Denmark during this time. It was that far into the past. As for the actual story, it begins by gods choosing lots of land for themselves and Poseidon chooses Atlantis. He then falls in love with a mortal woman Cleito, builds her a luxurious home, they have five sets of twin boys together and once the kids have all grown up, they divide Atlantis into ten parts and so is born ten different lineages of kings. But by each generation the kings become more and more human, meaning that it’s much more easier for their wealthy lifestyle to hit them in the head - compare that to Athenians in the story, who’re not tempted by luxuries and have quite Spartan lifestyle interestingly enough. This wealthy lifestyle of the Atlanteans quickly leads into colonialism and war mongering, leading into them trying to take over the Mediterranean but they’re are stopped by Athens because naval warfare was the only type of warfare Athenians actually excelled at. Zeus eventually looks down to see what the heck is going on and then tells Poseidon to do something because this racket is technically speaking all his fault. Poseidon agrees, causes an earthquake and then sweeps Atlantis under his rug, that being the ocean. So Atlantis is pretty much an antithesis of a perfect society, a concept that’s discussed more in Republic and the lesson here is that being consumed by hubris in the search of luxury leads to ruin - but since we’re not here for philosophy lessons, let’s forget all of that and think what kind of plot one could craft out of this mess.

Island nation in search of wealth is a good set-up for some action, so I don’t think there’s much that needs changing. Have Atlanteans attack some cities which alerts Palutena and that leads Pit into a mission in which he tries to tell Poseidon what’s going on. After 2-5 chapters of war against Atlanteans, Poseidon deals with the problem either willingly or by force - whether he just destroys the place or makes Atlanteans full on aquatic folk who can’t survive on land meaning that they have to give up the conquest is up to writers. It’s honestly quite refreshing to have the original tale working so well, because usually everything related to Atlantis in media is so divorced from what Plato told. Sure, a submerged city full of fish people could still work but by using the original tale as base we get a story with clear beginning and end which makes perfect sense in context of KI. Or maybe have the a plotline inspired by the original story first and then later have something related to the submerged city with the fish people. Best of both worlds, amazing!

Also orichalcum, the metal Atlanteans were said to have aplenty, is pretty much just copper. Reddish metal and only gold is more valuable than it, it couldn't be anything else but copper. The term even translates into mountain copper! So why is it never portrayed as copper in fiction?

Besides Atlantis, Poseidon has couple other myths I’d like to talk about too. The first one has him and Apollo losing their divine authority for a while and as punishment they have to serve Trojan king Laomedon father of king Priam and grandfather of Hector among some others if you’re wondering. The king makes them to build the legendary walls of Troy and he promises them great rewards, but once he doesn’t deliver them Apollo sends the plague upon Troy and then Poseidon sends a sea monster to terrorize the place Heracles kills it if you’re wondering. There’s also certain another situation which I’ve actually already talked about on a different post and how with little shaking it could work nicely on a future game - what I said was that Pit should do something Poseidon is going to hate to the point that the god is screaming for his head and that he wants to settle things on court.

The myth I used as reference was that of the supposed first trial in history, in which Ares kills Poseidon’s son Halirrhothius for assaulting his daughter and Poseidon loses his marbles over it. The gods gathered on Areopagus which is a real place in Athens, fun fact and I’ve heard two versions of how the trial goes. In the first version everyone agrees that Ares’ actions were justified and in the second one gods side with Poseidon, but goddesses side with Ares and since there was more goddesses present than gods, their words mattered more. Either way, Poseidon loses the trial and Ares gets away scot-free.

Were a future KI-game do their own twist with this myth, Pit would obviously take the role of Ares. Besides the fact that we’re trying to make Poseidon more antagonistic, Pit just being on a situation similar as Ares makes sense thematically speaking and I’m going to talk more about this later since it’s rather interesting. As for why the trial happens in the first place, it could very well be over anything. Maybe mix it with the one where Poseidon sends a sea monster to terrorize Troy just replace Troy with some unimportant city as this series always does and he’s so attached to it that seeing it getting slayed deeply saddens and angers him. You don’t even need to get rid of the idea that it was over a girl, even if the motive for killing the monster is changed along with what kind of relationship the girl could possibly have with the main cast. This is something I’ll get back into later because there’s in fact one other character who I’d like to talk about and how their most cruel and personal form of villainy happens to bound to a certain girl.

So back to Hera and Poseidon. There’s definitely potential for them to be antagonistic, but I’d say they would work much better as arc villains rather than as the main bad guy. There’s only so many things you can do with characters whose actions are rooted on anger or wrath, especially when they don’t have all that striking personalities.

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As for someone who could well work as the big bad, Dionysus is the first serious candidate. It’s partially due to how inconsistent his characterization has been, which I guess is something one should expect from a figure who has been around since the Mycenaean times and who happens to be the god of insanity, vegetation, orchards, fruit, grape-harvest, winemaking and wine. Does this sound like someone you’d expect to be a member of Forces of Nature? Because it sure does for me and I’d honestly be surprised if he wasn’t one if he was introduced to the franchise.

Symbolism behind Dionysus’ birth is pretty neat, my favorite version of it is the one written down by Diodorus of Sicily in Bibliotheca Historica and in that one Demeter is his mother. It starts the usual way in which the poor kid is killed shortly after his birth by Titans and Demeter comes back just in time to gather his remains to allow his rebirth shortly after. It references the harvest process and wine making - the god wine is born from the union of rain and earth just any plant is, he’s torn apart and boiled alive symbolizing the harvesting and wine-making process, his remains represent the fallen bare vines which become fertilizer for the earth and lastly wine itself is supposed symbolize the now reborn Dionysus. All of the versions of his birth myth do have this symbolism to a certain degree but I’d say this version has it the strongest because unlike his other the mother candidates, Demeter is a nature goddess first and foremost and also the goddess of agriculture.

This next point is somewhat tied to the previous one which is that he actually has valid reasons for his absence, that being his meanderings. Long story short - Hera’s angry over the fact that he exists, she injects him with madness and he wanders around like a madman for a while, then Rhea cures said madness and tells him to go on a journey so he could teach people how to make wine. So he goes and wanders around the world with the exception of Britain and Ethiopia for some reason teaching people the art of winemaking and does some other things in the meanwhile, such as apparently founding a city it’s told that on his campaign Alexander the Great came across a city that was supposedly founded by Dionysus. And this is a fun fact, apparently Dionysus’ popularity exploding around late 4th century BCE can be directly linked into Alexander, which is pretty neat. Once he comes back home he firmly establishes his place as a god and then he starts doing shenanigans much more familiar to us, such as giving king Midas his golden touch and marrying Ariadne.

So why do I think Dionysus is the first real contender for a possible new big bad? Well, do you know what’s the first thing he did once he came back to Greece? According to Bacchae, he brainwashed a city to worship him, caused an earthquake, set a palace on fire, gleefully watched when his worshipers teared a man into pieces and then turned some other people into serpents. Now that’s an entrance Viridi would be proud of!

Besides this, there’s also two similar stories in which Dionysus meets some pirates and they both show him as an unhinged god. They capture him and in the first one Dionysus shapeshifts into a lion and unleashes a bear against his captors, causing the scared pirates to abandon the ship and then Dionysus turns them into dolphins. In the other one he turns the mast and oars into snakes, fills the ship with ivy and the sound of flutes to make the pirates go mad and once again when they abandon the ship, Dionysus turns them into dolphins. The tale of him giving Midas his golden touch could also count as him being antagonistic since the act gives Midas nothing but suffering. So while he is much more friendly towards humans than your average god, Dionysus definitely has an antagonistic flare deep inside him and a place in the Forces of Nature and you can’t change my mind.

If Dionysus was a major antagonist or the big bad, I could see the plot going a lot like this - he comes home, causes some racket because he feels neglected, Viridi is happy about all of this and tries to control it while keeping him on this state of mind because who wants a happy party guy when you can have a chaotic deity, for a while she can do it but not for long before things snowball out of control and he becomes an unhinged god dead set on causing chaos. As for how he’s defeated, I can’t really come up with anything concrete on a fly but I don’t think Dionysus would be defeated the same way Hades was. And while he has the personality and presentation needed for a main antagonist, I just can’t see him as a pure evil villain like Hades was. He’s very much redeemable in my eyes and as for what happens to him after his defeat, I could see it leading to him mellowing down kind of like how Greek wine was watered down before it was used for anything - he’s still part of Forces of Nature and perfectly capable of doing all the same stuff he did as a major antagonist, but he would prefer partying with humans over destroying them. Viridi probably isn’t going to be all too happy about this, but it’s not like she’s going to be all that angry about it either.

Also fun fact at the end - in Dionysiaca, Ariadne laments if Eros and Anteros hate her because she had amazing dream about a wedding, only for Theseus to piss off and abandon her on Naxos. But as we all know, she would soon meet Dionysus who she does end up marrying so hey, the dream just wasn’t about the guy she thought she would marry. So if Dionysus isn’t going to be the big bad and the arc devoted to his villainy is relatively short, this could very well be used as a blueprint for a funny side story. Ariadne lamenting about Eros and Anteros would give Pit and Dark Pit valid reasons to be there.

This is not a joke, by the way. The part of Underworld which wasn't either Elysium or Tartarus was commonly referred as "the House of Hades" in ancient texts.

As for someone else who could also work quite well as the big bad, that would be Persephone. You all know the drill with her - Hades takes her, Demeter panics and goes to search her, she causes the Mediterranean summer on the meanwhile and does a thing which looks awful without context Demeter sets a baby on fire which is supposed to make him immortal if you’re wondering, everyone else decides that enough is enough because endless Mediterranean summer is a nightmare, they beg for Hades to give her back and he does that but not before the pomegranate trick. Demeter causes Mediterranean winter to come, the trouble is solved, we have a nice functional couple in our hands and they continue to appear together when Underworld is relevant to the plot - which surprisingly isn’t all that often as only Adonis, Heracles, Theseus who loses his arse and friend in the process, Orpheus who loses his wife and will to live in the process, Odysseys, Psyche and Aeneas managed to go to Underworld and back. That’s not really all that much all things considered.

And before anyone says anything about seasons here - Mediterranean climate is a thing and it’s best known for its hot, dry summers and mild, wet winters. One of these is much more preferable for plant life and in this case, it’s not summer. The more you know.

While there’s not much material of her when compared some other people in this list, I’d say there’s enough to create a frame for a character. In both Theogony and Iliad Persephone is described as dreaded and in Odyssey Odysseus assumes Persephone is the one sending ghosts to torture him while he’s visiting the Underworld. Just like Hades she has her fair share of vague epithets like Despoina (mistress) and Kore (maiden), presumably for the same reason as to avoid getting her attention. And while the etymology behind her actual name is rather muddied, the popular theories are that it means something in the vain of to destroy, to bring/cause death and she who brings destruction. And people have the gall to say she isn’t scary!

With this info and Hades’ characterization from KI:U in mind, you could very easily create a powerful pure evil villain who’s not going to be happy to learn what happened to her husband. As for why I believe she would be pure evil instead of redeemable one like Dionysus, it’s simply so she and Hades would match on their villainy. Considering how the big thing about Hades and Persephone is that they genuinely love each other to the point of possessiveness Pirithous and Minthe learned it the hard way, it would be weird if they hadn’t rubbed on each other during the time they were together. There’s an amazing chance for drama here and it would be dumb to ignore it when it has been given to us on a golden platter. And besides, unholy matrimonies are quite fun in fiction. Villains too have something they love.

As for attempts of villainy that don’t revolve around her being antsy at Pit about Hades, we interestingly need to look at the list of those she granted favors rather than those that had to deal with her wrath - or just one of them in particular, Psyche. As I’ve already mentioned she was one of those mortals who managed to go to Underworld and back and to make things better, she went to Underworld specifically so she could speak to Persephone. Persephone greets her with a nice cushion to sit on and a banquet, which Psyche declines because it’s a trap this is practically just the pomegranate trick on a larger scale. She tells why she came into the Underworld in the first place and Persephone fulfills her request, which is to say that she gives Psyche boxed death.

Coming to Underworld to speak to Persephone in particular definitely gives Psyche an edge compared to others when it comes to exploring Persephone’s potential villainy. But just why is Psyche such a big deal when compared to someone else like Orpheus, Adonis or Aeneas? Well, Psyche just happens to be the girl who would become the goddess of soul, a job that isn’t currently filled by anyone in KI-universe which Hades has kindly illustrated to us in KI:U by eating and repurposing souls for his own purposes. She’s also Eros’ wife with the addition of being the mother of his daughter and as we all know at this point, Pit is mostly inspired by Eros. While Persephone just being angry about her husband’s treatment makes a perfectly fine motivation, why not use the chance when it has been represented to us on a golden platter? Because while KI has a large cast of characters, most them are quite divorced from one another when it comes to their mythological counterparts interacting with each other. This subverts it since Persephone actually gets to interact with someone important to the figure Pit’s inspired of, which is more than almost anyone else in this list can say. The opportunity is there and there’s an open position for a new god, so why not take it?

Also if Persephone is going to be in a future game, I say I’m going to be so disappointed if there's not at least one pun about her epithet Kore. Like imagine if she was introduced on a chapter called Lost Kore or something similar and then the characters would just continue on making bad puns, annoying her. Wouldn’t be too out of line when it comes to this series humor.

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I know what I’m going to say next is probably going to be controversial, but anyway - if Ares ever makes an appearance, I don’t think he would be a bad guy and this is mostly due to how Pit has been characterized. I know that may sound weird at first but trust me, I do actually have a point with this.

So let’s start with something that may seem completely unrelated at first, these being a history lesson and some talk about over-demonization. We honestly don’t know much about how some city states worshiped gods and what specific versions of the myths they had because some people just couldn’t be bothered to write things down. Besides it being extremely annoying for me, this is also probably where the misconception of all of ancient Greece being either like Athens or Sparta came from, which just is completely false. However what is correct is that city states didn’t really like one another all that much and often engaged on stupid wars with each other, only uniting when there was a much bigger threat looming on the horizon - and with war comes propaganda and when only some people write things down, we’re usually left with really one-sided information when it comes to both good and bad. For one example of this coming off as hilariously hypocritical to me is Athena being worshiped under the epithet Areia in Athens. Areia is very obviously derived from Ares and means warlike, but Athenians had their heads so far in their arses that they came up with a reasoning that this version of the epithet is actually derived from areô or areskô, meaning to propriate or atone for. It’s most likely just some crap Athenians came up with to excuse the worship of Athena Areia, which I just can’t help but find pathetically funny - you can only blame your own propaganda for this, guys.

Historically speaking Ares most likely originates from Thrace since besides his popularity in there Herodotus notes in Histories that only gods from Olympian Pantheon that Thracians worshiped were Ares, Artemis and Dionysus, a really odd trio if I have to say so myself, it’s also said to be his birthplace in the myths. His name can be found on Linear B scripts, a writing system that goes as far back as 1450 BCE and which disappeared during the Late Bronze Age collapse around 1100 BCE. This informs us that he was part of the Mycenaean Pantheon in some way, most likely even then as a war god - it also informs us that he predates gods such as Apollo, Hades and Aphrodite who just don’t exist in Mycenaean texts at least in any recognizable forms. As for Ares during the Archaic, Classical and Hellenic period, especially when it came to places that weren’t either Athens/Attica or Sparta, I had to mostly rely on travelers who wrote things they saw down because some people just didn’t bother to write their own stuff down. Pausanias’ Description of Greece was especially helpful with the research, but what must be remembered is that he lived during 2nd century CE and that he was an outsider to these cultural aspects so how old some of this stuff here is and what the exact context behind it was, I don’t know and neither do others at least currently, one sure can hope so we know more in the future. Then again past is another country so maybe I'm setting my hopes way too high. When given anything in Linear A, people channel their best "I never learned how to read!"-impression.

As for how Ares’ Roman counterpart Mars came to be, it’s mostly due to syncretization. He probably was originally an agricultural god who was later associated with warfare once the Roman Republic started expanding. It’s possible that he was syncretized with an Etruscan deity called Maris, who was usually portrayed as a young boy whose caregiver was Menrva, a goddess who was later identified with Athena and Minerva. While this isn’t an universally agreed take, it’s still pretty interesting in context of Kid Icarus even if it wasn’t intentional or in the case of the take, true. Once Romans started to interact with Greek settlers from Magna Graecia Mars was syncretized with Ares, giving us the Roman god that looks familiar to us. One notable thing to keep in mind is that most of those Greek settlers in Magna Graecia originated from Peloponnese and what I’ve managed to find, they held Ares on much more higher regard than those originating from Attica did.

Okay, now when that has been cleaned out of the way, let’s go to the slightly more interesting stuff which is cult titles and epithets. Just like any other god he has his fair share of both, some examples include Teichesipletes (stormer of cities/walls), Hippius (horseman, of the horses), Theritas (beastly/brutish), Enyalius (warlike), Obrimus (strong/mighty), Thurus (violent/furious), Chrysopelex (of the golden helm) and Chalcocorustes (armed with bronze). I’m using Latin spelling of these to make things easier for myself if you’re wondering. But there’s two titles I specifically want to talk about, both them originating from Arcadia around Tegea because apparently all the cool stuff happens in Arcadia.

Interestingly also in Tegea there was a temple of Athena under epithet Alea. Pausanias tells that her priest there was a boy who held the title until he reached puberty, meaning that her priest was a child. Now this has nothing to do with Ares, but it’s pretty interesting when thinking of Pit. It’s not exactly same for sure, but could this mean that he would leave Palutena if he ever grew up?

The first one is Gynaecothoenas, meaning “Feasted by women” - and no need to worry, it’s nowhere near as sexual as it sounds. The story goes that Tegeteans were at war with Sparta and what decided the victory was an ambush by Tegetean women. Because of this, they offered Ares a sacrifice and celebrated the victory alone. The king of the Spartans at the time was said to be Charilaus, meaning that this victory must have happened around early-to-mid 8th century BCE, making this rather old cult title by the time Pausanias was writing. If only the research for everything else here could’ve been as easy as this.

The other and much more interesting title was Aphneius, meaning “Abundant” and under this title he was worshiped as the giver of food or abundance. The story behind this title goes that Ares fell in love with Tegetean princess Aerope and they had a child together, but she died during childbirth. Ares, doing his damndest to keep his son alive, managed to find a way for the baby to still have milk. Once he grew up, his son Aeropus then managed to do the thing that’s near impossible for a demigod, which is to live a normal life as the lord of Tegea. Now this would make a great character backstory…

… What was I talking about again? Oh yeah, history lesson is over! Finally! Now into the fun stuff, which is Pit’s characterization. It’s pretty common knowledge at this point that that Pit’s inspirations are Icarus, Perseus and Eros but when it comes to his characterization, Eros definitely takes the cake as the main inspiration. He is a fully realized character with multiple myths under his wing, unlike Icarus or Perseus.

Starting with Icarus, he isn’t even a character but a plot device. He’s a tool for Daedalus’ character development and that’s where his importance ends. He’s a miniscule part on a much larger narrative in which the most important part is the Minotaur, as it drives the plot for everything else in it. Icarus’ death serves to drive Daedalus’ character to the point which eventually leads into him killing Minos. He exists for a metaphor that pop-culture has blown out to be way more important than it originally was and that’s it.

As for Perseus… The guy is just really bland. While all the other heroes have their flaws like hubris and wrath, Perseus doesn’t really have any flaws. He doesn’t have that many achievements in either bravery or stupidity due to his method of dealing with things being the quickest way possible. This makes all of his battles extremely boring and because he’s one of the first demigod heroes in the mythological timeline, he doesn’t even get to interact with anyone who could be interesting. How many of you even know that he’s supposed be the founding hero of Mycenae? Not many, I’m sure about that. The most interesting thing about the guy his that he’s an ancestor to people such as Tyndareus, Alcheme, Heracles, Penelope and Telemachus but this doesn’t save him from being any less boring. He's that famous ancestor nobody gives a damn, so to speak. Pit certainly doesn’t get any part of his personality from a plot device or a blank of wood, only a literary reference and an antagonist.

Also can I quickly rant about the Angels in art vs. Angels in Bible meme because I hate it? For some reason most of times when people show art of these supposed angels, they aren’t even showing biblical angels but Erotes/Amores or Nike/Victoria instead. Erotes/Amores and Nike/Victoria are winged Greco-Roman gods, not biblical angels and using art of them proves absolutely nothing. Also you may have forgotten that there’s in fact hierarchy of angels and not all of them look identical. In Christian faith angelic hierarchy is composed of three orders, there being nine different kinds of angels - Seraphim, Cherubim, Ophanim/Thrones, Dominions, Virtues, Powers, Principalities, Archangels and Angels. Seraphim and Cherubim do indeed look terrifying and so do Ophanim, but Thrones are just bizarre because apparently they’re elderly carrying God’s throne, whatever that means also I’ve seen people use Ophanim and Thrones interchangeably which just makes the whole deal even bigger of a mess. And then there’s Dominions, who’re just really pretty winged people, proving that the idea of all biblical angels looking terrifying is completely false. I couldn’t find what Virtues looked like, but if they’re anything like Powers, Principalities, Archangels and Angels they’re most likely pretty winged humanoids. So yeah, surprising amount of biblical angels are indeed just pretty winged humanoids and only the highest order of them is clearly inhuman - so if you ever wondered why so many angels in art actually featuring Biblical angels have them looking so humanlike, now you know! It's not the highest rank's job to interact with the human world. Though in modern language, the term angel is simply used as an umbrella term which refers into a winged humanoid being regardless of which religion they originated from - so by using this as a frame, it would indeed make Erotes/Amores and Nike/Victoria angels along with some other winged gods such as Eos and Iris. This would also make Iris’ twin sister Arke a fallen angel because as punishment for siding with the Titans during Titanomachy, she was casted into Tartarus and her wings were ripped off so she could never escape from there. And then much later her wings are given as a wedding gift to Achilles’ parents, my god! You could actually a craft a plot out of this, hmmm. When it comes Pit and Dark Pit, I do think they’re angels only on this broad, modern way definition due to them being mostly inspired by the Greco-Roman Erotes/Amores and it’s possible that they’re only referred as angels because not only is the term Erotes/Amores is strictly associated with Aphrodite and only Aphrodite, it's also much more specialized term than just "angel". There has also been cases in art featuring multiple Nikes, but Nike's special role as the goddess of victory still prevents its use as a broad term. So I believe that in the case of KI, angel is just an useful umbrella term and nothing more.

So Pit’s mostly an Eros-expy when it comes to his personality and attributes, so what makes him so special when compared to many other Eros-expies in media? It’s actually a surprisingly small thing, but boy does it make a difference - on a thematic sense, Pit’s a total daddy’s boy and in this case the dad would be Ares. Most of the Eros-expies you see in media are completely divorced from anything related to Ares despite the guy being Eros’ dad but not in Kid Icarus, where we have a very blatant Eros-expy whose connections to his main mythological inspiration come almost exclusively from Ares. Just why is Pit doing Nike’s job? Because Nike happens to be Ares’ daughter according to some sources, like in the Homeric hymn dedicated to him. Why’s he a soldier in an army? Because Ares was a soldier and in some parts of Greece he was seen as a model of a perfect one who’s resilient and has physical strength that isn’t matched by anyone else. Apparently in Sparta they even had a statue of shacked Ares, supposedly as an attempt to keep the martial spirit and victory in Sparta I don’t know about you but for me this sounds like a very bad move, as if they were asking for the god’s wrath. Then again Athenians did the same thing with wingless Nike, so I guess it was fine in some twisted way. Why does Dark Pit exist? Because would you know it, there’s myth in which Ares and Aphrodite spot lonely little Eros and decide to create Anteros to be his brother, their only differences being hair, wings and weapons of choice Anteros has longer hair, plumed butterfly wings, golden club and lead arrows when compared to Eros' golden bow + both golden and lead arrows. Why does Magnus possibly being based on Meleager matter? Because would you know it, the dude’s sometimes a son of Ares. Why did he spend three years trapped inside a ring? It could parallel the tale of Ares and the giants, in which he spent a lunar year trapped inside a jar. Why does a dog help him during that section? It could still very well be reference Ares and the giants as Hermes and Artemis came to save him and one of Artemis’ sacred animals is a dog and Hermes is the god guard dogs. Also one of Ares’ sacred animals is dog as well, meaning that it could reference this as well. Honestly if Pit ends up having a divine parent and it’s not Ares, I call bullcrap.

So now when that has been made clear, what can writers do with Ares? Well if you take the myth of Poseidon wanting to settle things on court and give it to Pit, you end up losing one of his three major myths in which he’s wrathful towards someone odd I know, you’d probably expect a god of war to be much more wrathful but no, he’s not. The two ones that are left don’t really give all that great material either because in the first one, the target is Adonis and whether it even was Ares’ wrath that killed him is left open - in some versions it’s Artemis who wants him dead because she’s angry at Aphrodite for causing the situation which lead to the death of her hunter Hippolytus, sometimes it’s Apollo who still hasn’t forgiven Aphrodite for blinding his son Erymanthus, occasionally it’s Persephone of all people because she’s angry at Adonis for wanting so spend time with Aphrodite and at times it’s just an accident this all makes me think it was an elaborate coup. There’s always a reason for a divine being to be angry at Aphrodite because she just can’t help but cause trouble whenever she can. When it comes to the second one, it’s honestly pretty odd because not only does Ares forgive the man who originally was the target of his wrath, it illustrates how good of a parent he is on Olympian standards not that it’s a high bar but anyway - even better than the lady whose favorite boytoy he is, and she’s well known for being an overprotective parent.

The myth starts with this lad called Cadmus, who founds the city of Thebes, becomes its king and then kills a dragon residing on a nearby spring. Ares is furious about this since the dragon was sacred to him and apparently it’s sometimes his son, don't know how that works and as punishment, Cadmus has to serve Ares for eight years he got it easy when compared to Adonis and Halirrhothius. Once that service is over, Cadmus marries one of the two daughters of Ares and Aphrodite, this being Harmonia, the goddess of harmony. However not everything is all sunshine and rainbows because Hephaestus is still salty about how his marriage with Aphrodite went south and once he hears about a wedding, he prepares two gifts for the bride - first one was a beautiful necklace that could keep its wearer eternally youthful and the other one was a luxurious robe. But there was a catch, since both of these objects were cursed to bring bad luck to those who owned them. The bad luck eventually took its take on Cadmus’ mental state and one day he remarked that if gods fancied those serpents so much, maybe his life would be so much better as one. Gods fulfill this wish, he’s turned into a serpent and once Harmonia notices what has happened, she wishes the same. At one point Dionysus comes to the city, trashes the place and then gives them a propechy of this happening. Either way, Ares comes down to get the unlucky couple and then scoots them to safety in paradise-like Elysium, where they get to reside from now on.

You may already be familiar with this myth to a certain degree because Pokemon B/W could technically count as an adaptation of it. N is of course the most obvious parallel due to him getting his second name from Harmonia and Ghetsis takes a role comparable to Hephaestus. It all becomes even funnier because Harmonia hits some characteristics associated with yin - she’s passive, feminine figure who represents harmony which can only exist due to lack of action, an idea. It gains even more hilarity points thanks to existence of Adrestia, Harmonia’s sister and the goddess of revolt - she’s pretty much yang to Harmonia’s yin and to make things even more hilarious, she was often portrayed as a beautiful winged maiden. Now who would expect the goddess of revolt to be a lovely winged lady and the goddess of harmony to be at least momentarily a serpent?

While this is indeed an interesting myth, I don’t think it would make all great material for future KI-game, at least on its current form. The cast of KI doesn’t really get to interact with humans on a personal level, which is something this myth largely relies on. Honestly, I think the best way it could be referenced in game would be just Pit going to Elysium and meeting Harmonia still trapped on a draconic form. Considering the way Hades had been characterized in KI:U, it wouldn’t surprise me if he had just kept trapped Harmonia as a pet lizard in his garden. Maybe say something on the vain of him eating the husband’s soul or using it for something else to explain why she’s there all by herself. And if you want to make fun of the fact that the fourth wall might as well not exist, throw Adrestia in Elysium as well as a dragon as a nod to Pokemon. “The Twin Dragonesses of Elysium” sounds like it would make a very cool boss fight.

So a wrath or blessing, Ares gives us not much to work with either of those at least when it comes to him actually doing stuff - but that doesn’t mean we’re left with nothing because there’s three myths that I’ve glossed over quickly that could give us something, one just for comedy and two others actual plot. As for the one that’s just for comedy, it’s the one in which Sisyphus captures Thanatos. Ares is actually the one to save Thanatos from the tough situation since after it has continued for a month, he bursts into Sisyphus’ house, frees Thanatos and drags Sisyphus’ spirit to the Underworld… Only for him to come up with a sad story, which leads into Persephone letting him go only for it to backfire. Ares then disappears from the story, but it ends up with Sisyphus doing P.E for eternity in Tartarus once he dies for real as you all already know. This is pretty funny if a bit morbid myth, so it could be really easy to use it as a comedy goldmine if Ares ever interacted with Thanatos. Maybe have Thanatos trying to act like they’re friends, only for Ares to become more and more frustrated the longer Thanatos continues. Maybe once he mentions some of his escapades involving Pit, Ares finally decides that enough is enough and shows to Thanatos that mortals don’t call him by the name Thurus for nothing.

To the myths you could get some serious plot out of, the first one is very predictably the one in which he earns the title Aphneius. It just has everything a great character backstory needs on its original form, meaning that it could easily be inserted on the game with minimal changes and it could still work fantastically. It has a romance between a god and a mortal which ends up on a tragedy during a moment that was supposed to be joyous not because of any divine whim or I guess it could’ve been Aphrodite being salty because she has a habit of releasing her wrath upon Ares’ loved ones or relatives, usually grandchildren such as Hippolytus, but I think it would’ve been written down had the story actually said it was Aphrodite behind Aerope’s death, but because of something beyond their control. And instead of taking his frustrations on the baby like so many fathers in these stories do, he instead does everything to keep him alive and so Aeropus grows up to be fine ruler, if an unremarkable demigod. A writer could easily use Aeropus as a base for an interesting heroic character… And I guess you can already see where this is going. I already said that Ares would make the most sense as Pit’s divine parent if he indeed has one, so this would make an excellent backstory if that was the case.

I could see the timeline going something like this if this was true - Ares meets KI-universe’s equivalent of Aerope, the two have an adorable romance and are expecting a kid but something goes horribly wrong and Aerope dies, instead of letting Aerope’s family to take care of the kid Ares takes the baby with him because who knows what they would do to a winged baby so many myths have families abandoning their kids for dumber reasons than this so why wouldn’t he take the kid with him + this dude had 3-6 winged kids, one all by himself, so he definitely is the one hogging all the wing genes instead of Aphrodite, he tries single parenting but it’s hard when certain goddess is constantly shooting stinkeyes and paralyzing glares at his direction and it leads into him asking help from Palutena because a winged kid wouldn’t look too out of place among her angel minions. Considering how Palutena and Poseidon were capable of having a conversation in KI:U without any horrible atrocities being committed, I don’t think it’s too far-fetched to imagine her relationship with Ares being along your typical sibling-relationship rather than what Atheanians wrote down Ares and Athena were actually worshiped together in the town of Olympia under titles Hippius and Hippias, fun fact. You could also see it as a favor inspired by how Menrva took care of Maris. Anyway, this deal goes swimmingly for a while until the events of a certain other myth take place, which makes Palutena the sole caregiver of Pit - some unspecified amount of time later que the events of the original Kid Icarus and onward.

Fanfic time over, now to the other myth which could explain Ares’ absence - it’s the one about him and the giants. Long story short, there’s these two giants called Ephialtes (derived from the word meaning nightmare) and Otus (either derived from the word meaning insatiate, doom or horned owl) who’re sons of Poseidon because of course they are, goddammit Poseidon and a mortal woman Iphimedeia, they’re also called by the name Aloadae. They were planning to storm into Olympus to kidnap some wives for themselves, Otus wanting Artemis and Ephialtes wanting Hera what great choices, you complete imbeciles, absolutely amazing. So one day Olympians are surprised to find these two giants piling up mountains on top one another and as expected, there’s a big fight between them because no one comes to the Olympian home turf without facing the consequences. Once the two giants finally leave, the Olympians notice that someone is missing, that being Ares. Ephialtes and Otus probably realized way too late that kidnapping the god of war wasn’t the brightest idea and because letting him go wasn’t an option, they locked him inside bronze jar of which he tried to break out without success. It took around a lunar year for the giants stepmother to rat this out to Hermes, who went to save Ares with Artemis. While she distracted the giants and made them throw their spears at each other, Hermes lockpicked Ares out of the jar and so the three returned to Olympus.

So how could this myth be used while crafting a plot for a future game? I’d say it depends on whether writers want to use Ares as a full-blown good guy from the start or as an antagonist at first - and while I do still believe that Ares wouldn’t be a bad guy on his own free will, who said he’s going to burst out of that jar with that free will still intact? It’s not like we haven’t seen brainwashed antagonists in the series before, Gaol was a one.

So if we have Ares as an antagonist who’s brainwashed and crazy, how could the possible plot be handled? I could see it starting with the two giants resurfacing for something trivial but because they’re being destructive, it catches the attention of Palutena who sends Pit down to deal with them. The giants are dealt with in 1-3 chapters and one way or another Pit finds a large jar and breaks it, releasing the crazed Ares. Neither side recognizes each other and there’s possibly a boss fight which ends with Ares leaving and him becoming a wandering antagonist who causes racket when someone angers him. He most likely isn’t connected to any other antagonist or the main villain, but I could see them trying to recruit him without any success. As for how he was brainwashed in the first place, it could be the Aloadae wanting to get some use out of their prisoner and they decided to make him into an indestructible living weapon either to themselves or someone else - maybe it even was commissioned by the big bad because who wouldn’t want an powerful living weapon who’s loyal to you and only you. Either way it proves fruitless as Pit frees Ares from the mind control and slowly but surely he starts to establish himself as a good guy and an ally to Pit and Palutena.

This would actually go pretty well along with a certain another thing about Ares, that being helmet and symbolism connected to it - you see, mythological Ares was often portrayed to have something I like to call Meta Knight-syndrome. He was said to be a beautiful man with a lovely face, apparently much more prettier than any other male Olympian which could possibly explain why he’s Aphrodite’s favorite boytoy and he wasn’t particularly proud of it - just what kind of self-respecting enemy would take you seriously if you have a face of an angel? But that didn’t stop people from drawing or sculpting him without a helmet, and the result were indeed pretty my goodness is Ludovisi Ares a one beautiful sculpture. Just considering how the art we see of Ares can be categorized into him either with or without a helmet, writers could easily craft a narrative out of this - while wearing a helmet he’s under mind control and once freed he fights helmetless, allowing player to see him as who he really is. Helmet obscuring the face equals bad guy and once it cracks, we can have a very confused ally who cries over the fact that his baby is a big boy now, cries some more because there’s two of them now, may or may not join us to missions if there’s a two-player mode for story or just help with training and also maybe cracks dad jokes few times because humor is a valid coping mechanism. This all kind of reminds me how one other popular trend relating to Ares in art was to have him disarmed with young Eros playing with his armor. Cute!

Somewhat relating to the idea of Ares starting as a brainwashed antagonist turned ally once the helmet is smashed, I could see him having two different themes which illustrate the different natures of him. First one should be something brooding and terrifying, maybe something similar to Gustav Holst’s Mars, the Bringer of War which a really great piece of classical music that has inspired composers all around the world, even at Nintendo. If you haven’t heard it, you certainly have heard at least one song inspired by it metal genre can thank its existence on Mars, no kidding. As for the other theme, I think it should be a warm, calm and welcoming one with a hint of sadness, a complete opposite of the battle theme when it comes to the first expression. I’ve been recently listening a lot of TSFH and Hans Zimmer so if I had to say what kind of energy I’d want this possible theme to have, I’d probably say something between TSFH’s Friendship To Last from the demonstration album Nemesis, Final Days of Rome from album Unleashed and Now we are free from Gladiator. They all have this bittersweet yet beautiful feeling in them I love. Maybe there’s a shared leitmotif or something between the two themes connecting them into each other. Thurus and Aphneius were both titles for the same god after all, even if they were about wildly different aspects of him.

So just like with Apollo, I think there’s only one way to bring Ares into the franchise and in this case it would be making him Pit’s dad. It just makes way too much sense to me considering how Pit has been characterized that it would be odd if there wasn’t any connection between the two. And there’s even couple out-of-universe reasons why I don’t believe he would be the bad guy, the first and most notable being that the names Ares and Mars are already associated with morally righteous characters or at least characters we’re supposed to root for in Nintendo games. Sakurai certainly knows this, Marth has been in Super Smash Bros since Melee as a playable character and his name just blatantly is Mars in Japanese and his English name is just the Japanese way of saying Mars. You don’t bastardize the face of another franchise in your own one, especially if you’re both exclusives to the same company and the other franchise is much more bigger and important than yours is.

Since it would be hard to introduce Ares into the franchise, I would be completely fine with him not being featured in next game at all even though I would find it extremely disappointing. But if you’re not going to have him, at least have a reference to him in form of a weapon like Blade of Ares or Blade of Mars because would you know it, the legendary sword of Attila was also known as the sword of Mars. We’re probably never going to get actual swords in KI but blade has been used as a synonym for them, so there being a blade with said name could work just fine. That or finally add spear and shield combo into the game. But if you want to use the character who would work as the big bad the best into their fullest, maybe it would be a good idea to have Ares as well... All roads may lead to Rome, but not to the arms of Genetrix in this case.

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Call me crazy, but I think that Aphrodite would make the perfect big bad. Does she have that charisma and personality comparable to Hades? Yes she does, and unlike him she had all that in real life - one of her titles was Pandemos, quite literally meaning “of the people”. This made her extremely popular among people regardless who they were or where they lived, and how can you blame them since there’s not many people whom things such as beauty, love and sex don’t matter in some shape or form. Only Olympian who really matched her when it came to popularity was Zeus, but considering how he was the king of all gods it was to be expected that he’d outrank her on the popularity board. She was the most popular goddess in Greece by a longshot and that was also true for Venus in Rome, even if Mars took the place as the second most popular god after Jupiter. Due to her being the mother of Roman founding hero Aeneas, she was viewed as the mother of all Rome and it was used by people as a way to climb up the political ladder. The Julio-Claudian dynasty claimed to descend from her through Aeneas and it didn’t stop there - you can actually trace the ancestry of multiple mythological European figures all the way back to her! Some notable examples of this include Bladud/Blaiddyd, Leir of Britain, Goneril, Regan, Cordelia of Britain and supposedly even king Arthur himself last one is a bit iffy, but all the others are concrete, Aphrodite just flat out is their ancestor through Aeneas. She definitely has the charisma and presentation needed for a big bad because you simply couldn’t be able to pull of any of the previously mentioned things without them and if she could do it in real life, who says she couldn’t do it in a fictional world?

Pretty much only thing about Aphrodite that stays constant is her popularity because in the myths, her characterization is wildly inconsistent - I guess that something one should expect from a goddess who rules over matters such as beauty and love, two things one can never truly understand. However with that being said, there’s trends that stay with her regardless her ever-changing personality. She’s technically speaking an outsider to the Olympian family tree as her most popular and possibly the oldest one as well birth story has her as the motherless child of Ouranos, emerging fully formed from seafoam. Hestia, Hades, Demeter, Poseidon, Hera and Zeus form the first generation of Olympians and Ares, Athena, Hephaestus, Artemis, Apollo, Hermes and Dionysus are principal members of the second generation. By adding Eileithyia, Persephone and Hebe into the mix you get the main Olympian family, making Aphrodite feel like even more of an outsider. She only starts to fit among the family when the third generation is added and speaking of said generation, part of it forms her attendants. The two most important ones are her sons Eros and Anteros, love and love requited, whom she let’s to do pretty much all they want as long as they stay loyal to her. However once that loyalty shifts, she can be quite cruel towards them which is illustrated in the myth of Eros and Psyche quite well - and I’m going to let Aphrodite herself to do all the talking, so here’s a quote from from Apuleius’ The Golden Ass:

‘This is a fine state of affairs, just what one would expect from a child of mine, from a decent man like you! First of all you trampled underfoot the instructions of your mother--or I should say your employer--and you refused to humble my personal enemy with a vile love-liaison; and then, mark you, a mere boy of tender years, you hugged her close in your wanton, stunted embraces! You wanted me to have to cope with my enemy as a daughter-in-law! You take too much for granted, you good-for-nothing, loathsome seducer! You think of yourself as my only noble heir, and you imagine that I'm now too old to bear another. Just realize that I'll get another son, one far better than you. In fact I'll rub your nose in it further. I'll adopt one of my young slaves, and make him a present of these wings and torches of yours, the bow and arrows, and all the rest of my paraphernalia which I did not entrust to you to be misused like this. None of the cost of kitting you out came from your father's estate.’

Let’s file that under yikes. She’s saying this to her injured child and it’s about a girl he loves more than anything but she can’t stand her. And it’s not like Aphrodite dislikes her for any valid reasons, it’s all because Psyche is pretty and Aphrodite took it as a personal attack. This temperament is a stable with her, be the fuss she causes either positive or negative. It goes well in the line of the idea that she was never a child and was born fully formed, as it’s pretty hard to learn those important childhood life lessons as an adult. And do you want to know the best part about this mess? After this massive rant she’s confronted by Hera and Demeter, two goddesses who in all intents and purposes should understand what she’s feeling right now and guess what they do? They call Aphrodite a hypocrite in her face because that’s exactly what she is. Why is she so angry at her child for growing up and experiencing romantic love for the first time when she spends most of her time either being in love or making others fall in love?

Let’s leave the sad lovers behind for a while and talk about Aphrodite in some other myths. There’s not many myths about her that don’t feature romance or sex in some form, but those few are usually about her competitive nature. There’s a myth about Hermes and Aphrodite participating on funeral games yes, this was a real tradition organized by Apollo and she won, her prize being a zither which she later gave to Paris. There’s also a myth about her and Athena having a weaving competition which ended on her losing miserably because as one might expect, challenging the goddess of weaving into a weaving competition couldn’t possibly end well. But since these kind of myths are about things out of her assignments, there isn’t many of them. Most of them are about her helping people with their relationship problems, some examples could be her giving Galatea life on Pygmalion’s wishes and gifting Hippomenes the three golden apples so he could win the race for Atalanta’s heart. But it’s also really easy to earn her anger, some notable immortals who were victims of her wrath are the titan goddess of dawn Eos (she didn’t want to share Ares so she cursed Eos to feel uncontrollable desire towards a new man every day), the titan god of sun Helios (he ratted out her relationship with Ares so she cursed him to forget everyone he ever loved romantically and then made him fall in love with princess Leucothoe - it ends badly and that’s how we got heliotropes), the muse Calliope (Aphrodite saw Zeus asking her help for covering the whole deal about who gets to keep Adonis as a personal attack and so she cursed her son Orpheus to have a horrible death in the hands of Dionysus’ worshipers - interestingly enough this has nothing to do with the fact that Calliope did also sleep with Ares or that she married Oeagrus who’s sometimes said to be Ares’ son, which would make Orpheus his grandson), a minor ocean deity Nerites (he refused to follow her into the land so she turned him into a shrimp) and Pan (Aphrodite and this handsome lad Acheilus had a beauty competition and Pan was the judge - he said Acheilus was prettier so Aphrodite turned the poor lad into into a hideous shark-creature and then cursed Pan to be hopelessly in love with the nymph Echo, the very same Echo who had her eyes on Narcissus). It could even be said that her blessings aren’t going to last for long and by using Hippomenes as an example once again, we learn that in one version of the story she turned him into a lion all because he didn’t pay his respects back to her soon enough. Guileful Aphrodite indeed.

Due to her temperament and general lack of caring about the consequences of her actions, Aphrodite has earned the ire of many gods - just look no further than Adonis, there’s four possible culprits who could’ve caused his death. Because of their contradictory natures, she’s often portrayed as not getting along with Hestia, Athena and Artemis and while there’s not much material for Hestia there’s multiple myths of Aphrodite causing unpleasant situations for Artemis and her hunters, Hippolytus being the shining example of this. The judgement of Paris establishes her relationship with Hera and Athena as a rocky one and the Trojan war has them full-on enemies on opposite sides, Athena even telling the Greek Diomedes during the war that he should avoid fighting literally any god with the exception of Aphrodite - it leads into him throwing a spear at Aphrodite, piercing her wrist and this leads into Aphrodite cursing Diomedes in return. Also in some records such as Cypria Helen’s mother is stated to be the goddess Nemesis, so add her into the list of gods Aphrodite has angered so it turns out the goddess who truly was Nemesis’ enemy was never the one from Blue Sea Star but rather the one who represented Morning Star, how ironic. Her relationship with the male Olympians are a bit better but not always, in fact she has no meaningful one with Apollo at all. Her marriage with Hephaestus was an unhappy one and only after they divorced were they both allowed to be happy, Hephaestus by marrying Aglaea and having a family with her and Aphrodite by continuing her many affairs without any worries. She did scorn Zeus when he tried to get it on with her, but otherwise there’s not much either good or bad blood between them. Besides Ares, Aphrodite did find both Poseidon and Dionysus handsome and had affairs with them, but it’s unclear if they resulted any children - Rhodos has Telchine Halia and Amphitrite as her other mother candidates, Peitho is almost always said to be a child of Tethys and Oceanus instead, the Charites were more often said to be children of Zeus and Oceanid Eurynome rather than Aphrodite’s and Priapus just has no parents set in stone because no telling was seemingly more popular than others. The birth myth of Hermaphroditus starts with Aphrodite telling Hermes to piss off because he doesn’t come even close to her standards, so he asks little help from Zeus to get what he wants and therefore I can’t imagine them having a positive relationship because of this. And after reading so many myths in which Aphrodite targets Ares’ grandkids for whatever reasons, I’m starting to think that he should start running away and quickly. Maybe she really did kill Aerope.

Now returning to the love story with a happy ending which has the most famous victim of Aphrodite’s wrath, Eros and Psyche. It begins in a town with no name given oh, so this isn’t completely baseless in KI where princess Psyche (meaning either soul or breath of life) is having trouble socializing - the people have declared that she’s as if not more beautiful than Aphrodite and they have started worshiping her, denying normal human interaction from her. This obviously pisses off Aphrodite because it has been established that she has the self-control skills comparable to a toddler and so she orders her son Eros to make Psyche to fall in love with something hideous. While he agrees to do the deed, once he sees the beautiful Psyche he can’t help but to fall in love with her and then he chooses to defy his mother, crafting a plan on what to do next. In the meanwhile the loneliness is making Psyche miserable and that doesn’t go unnoticed by her parents, so they go to visit the oracle of Apollo for help. Considering how Apollo is still very much salty at Eros for cursing him to have the worst love life imaginable, his words aren’t all that comforting (another quote from The Golden Ass):

‘Adorn this girl, O king, for wedlock dread, and set her on a lofty mountain-rock. Renounce all hope that one of mortal stock can be your son-in-law, for she shall wed a fierce, barbaric, snake-like monster. He, flitting on wings aloft, makes all things smart, plaguing each moving thing with torch and dart. Why, Jupiter himself must fearful be. The other gods for him their terror show, and rivers shudder, and the dark realms below.’

She and her parents are obviously horrified by this, but they do as they were told to and Psyche is left alone on a cliffside where the god of west wind Zephyrus picks her up. He brings her into a lovely meadow where she takes a refreshing nap and after she wakes up, she sees a beautiful palace and goes in. She’s charmed by the looks of the place and then a disembodied voice tells her that she will be provided by many invisible servants while living in there. Once night falls she’s nervous to meet her husband, but after the first meeting she starts looking forward on their nights together. This continues for quite some time, but in the meanwhile Psyche’s family is starting to get worried about her and she’s in return worrying about them. Eros promises that her sisters can come to visit, but also tells her that she shouldn’t listen them if they sound jealous. Psyche agrees and Eros gets Zephyrus to scoot the sisters down to visit, but as expected the sisters get jealous really quickly and start to make her worry if what the oracle told about her husband was indeed true - what finally broke the camels back was the sisters suggesting that he’s planning to kill her and their unborn child. So when the next night falls, she has prepared herself a lamp and dagger to see if her husband really is a monster - once she draws the lamp near and sees that he’s in fact Eros himself, she’s awestruck and accidentally stabs herself with one of his arrows, making her fall for him even harder. But while admiring him some oil spills from the lamp on Eros, causing him to wake up and leave. Earlier in the story Psyche had said that she’d much rather die than throw this marriage away and she’s willing to live by that statement, so she goes to search Eros and atonement - meanwhile Aphrodite is beating her son in the head by talking how horrible child he is for daring to fall in love and then she imprisons him Genetrix knows nothing in this case. Hera and Demeter call her a hypocrite, which doesn’t ease her anger in the slightest.

Psyche eventually finds her way into a temple of Aphrodite and she calls her two servants to beat the poor girl to make herself feel better. After having a good laugh over Psyche’s suffering, she gives her another beating herself and then dumbs different kinds of grains on the ground, saying that she should sort them by night if she ever wants to see Eros again. Sometimes prompted by him, ants nearby take pity on Psyche and help her - predictably Aphrodite isn’t all too happy about this and she comes up with a much more deadlier task. By morning she tells her that she should get some golden fleece from the sheep living on a grove across nearby river. This disheartens Psyche because she knows gathering the fleas directly is a suicide mission, but she’s consulted by local river deity who tells her how the sheep behave and that instead of approaching the sheep at all she should just collect fleas caught on foliage. She does as was told and Aphrodite becomes even more enraged, telling her to go gather water from river Styx. While she finds her way to Styx without much hassle, she’s overwhelmed by the hopelessness of the situation - luckily for her everyone has come to the conclusion that Aphrodite is being horrible and Zeus sends one of his eagles to help Psyche to get the water.

At this point Aphrodite’s patience is running thin and she gives Psyche a box, tells her to go into Underworld to get a part of Persephone’s beauty and come back with it because this whole deal of torturing her little daughter-in-law has been so hard for her and she needs to look good while going to the divine theatre. After being consulted by a tower on how to actually get into the Underworld without dying, she does as was told and and it doesn’t take long for her to be greeted by Persephone. After refusing to fall into an obvious trap, Psyche told her why she was visiting her and Persephone agreed to help her without hassle - but after returning into the mortal world, Psyche’s curiosity took the better of her and she wanted to see that beauty herself. Turns out it was Stygian sleep fancy words for boxed death and Psyche drops on the ground like a rock, but at this point Eros has escaped his imprisonment goes straight to her. He draws the sleep back into the box, gently pricks her with an arrow to wake her up, the two have a heartfelt reunion and Eros brings Psyche to Olympus, asking Zeus if the two can now get properly married. Everyone agrees, Zeus tells Aphrodite to stfu and they give Psyche ambrosia, making her the goddess of soul. The two have a glorious wedding and some time after it Psyche gives birth to their daughter, either named Hedone or Volupta(s) depends if it’s a Greek or Roman telling the story, the personification of pleasure, joy and delight. I personally prefer the name Volupta, it rhymes much more nicer with rest of the family.

And since we’re at here, that gorgeous painting by John William Waterhouse that everyone thinks has Pandora wearing a pink dress? It’s actually Psyche opening the deathly beauty box. Don’t believe me? Just check Psyche opening the golden box and you see who’s right. He however did create an equally pretty painting about Pandora though.

So now when the story time finally over, what can we do with all of this info? Well, it does tell how perfect of an antagonist Aphrodite makes for an Eros-expy. She has power over him and isn’t afraid of abusing it when she feels betrayed. Compare this to the tales of Icarus and Perseus which really don’t have a main antagonists - Icarus has no personal stakes in the story because he’s a plot device rather than a character and from Daedalus’ point of view, the main antagonist is Minos but mythology doesn’t really treat him as all that horrible person. After he died he became one of the judges of the Underworld and probably sent Daedalus to Tartarus once he died, which illustrates a one seriously big missed opportunity which should’ve been used if Icarus truly was that important inspiration for Pit. Instead it just makes it even more clear how irrelevant Icarus and the narrative about the Minotaur are to KI. As for Perseus, I already talked about how Medusa is a mcguffin while alive and the other ones aren’t much better. Polydectes, Phineus and Acrisius are all dealt with so quickly that they don’t really matter - his only fight that isn’t solved by a handwave is against Cetus and it’s just a sea monster sent to kill Andromeda by Poseidon. Poseidon’s antagonistic potential is a topic I’ve already discussed and the already mentioned possible fusion of the myths of Poseidon sending a sea monster to harass Troy and Ares’ trial covers the idea of Pit saving a girl from a sea monster which is bit funny because in the former one, oracle tells that king Laomedon should let it eat his daughter Hesione to get rid of the monster, so that doesn’t really add anything new here. But with Aphrodite as the big bad it could be rather easy to craft two different but overlapping plotlines, one with a main goal and the other with a personal one. Aphrodite always was Eros’ biggest personal antagonist who treated him as a trophy child and didn’t take it well when he stepped out of the line - how dare her little doll grow up, behave like a man and then decide that he wants to move on to build a family of his own, which now takes the priority over her? Him choosing Psyche over his mother is his defining myth, with the addition of it being the myth in which he finally gains the respect of the other gods. Besides having its message about heart and soul being capable feeling and creating joy while together, it also functions as a coming of age story for its main couple - and when those stories have an antagonist, things tend get really personal.

So going back to those possible two plotlines and goals, what could they possibly be about? I’d say that the main plot line shouldn’t really be based on any myth but instead it should take advantage of her popularity among ancient people, more so when it comes to Venus and Rome. Even as a city, Rome was massive - by the time of 1st century CE it had reached the population of million people, being the first city in history to do that. And this was only the capital of the empire! Rome wasn’t build in a day indeed. Venus wasn’t worshiped by the thousands, her popularity was in the millions during this time period. That’s a lot of power for one goddess and as we all know, too much power can easily hit one in the head - especially when remembering that we’re dealing with a Pantheon composed entirely of manchildren. Give Aphrodite an empire that looks up to her, doesn’t do anything without a last world from her and you’re set with a supervillain who has it all from power to personality. In this case, the reason why Aphrodite should be stopped is that she’s a conqueror who rules by fear, saying that if she was ever abandoned she would curse them and take away all the blessings she has ever granted, leading her empire to ruin. If you want to make her feel even more villainous, don’t even give her an army of her own like Hades and Viridi had but make her use the people of the empire she rules over. There’s nothing more evil than using people who look up to you for protection for your own selfish goals. What those selfish goals may be, writers can be creative with them - maybe she wants to be viewed as the supreme goddess above everyone else, maybe she wants everyone to worship her and isn’t afraid to use extreme measures to get what she wants, maybe she wants to wipe out everyone who could be a threat to her, everything goes. Considering her role on the judgement of Paris, her causing a war or chaos for selfish reasons isn’t out of character. But whatever her reasons may be, there’s going to sparks in the air and fights of massive proportions. Ares may be Pit’s father but Aphrodite definitely isn’t his mother, so she’s not going to show him any sympathy or kindness if he gets in the way of her plans.

This would be the plotline that’s more on the background and focused on Aphrodite’s relationships with Palutena, possibly Ares and the other gods, the main goal is their goal. It’s why they want her defeated. If Palutena is anything like Athena, she can’t get along with her and she understands that allowing Aphrodite to do whatever she wants will have catastrophic consequences even if she herself couldn’t care less about those. If Ares was featured on a future game along with Aphrodite, their relationship would probably be focused on how they feel betrayed by each other. The myth of her cursing Eos illustrates how she sees their relationship open only from her end so she’s very likely still angry at him for leaving her, be it for Aerope or something else entirely. If you want to go with the depressing idea of her being the one who ordered Aloadae to kidnap him, she probably feels even more betrayed because even under mind control he didn’t come back to her like she had anticipated. And if it’s indeed her favorite ex-boytoy’s son with some other lady who has been foiling her plans, her blood quite possibly starts to boil. Ares’ feelings of betrayal would likely stem from Aphrodite trying to kill his child for no other reason than sheer pettiness, along with orchestrating his kidnapping and torture just so she could get her boytoy back. Other gods probably want her stopped for similar reasons as Palutena, maybe with some selfishness rippled in - the consequences of her actions are hurting them and because she doesn’t care, something must be done to stop her. For example, Viridi could possibly oppose Aphrodite because she doesn’t care about how she’s hurting nature on her attempts to viewed as the supreme goddess. Not to say that Pit doesn’t also care about this goal since he’s an empathetic youngster, but I think that the more personal plotline should be his and it’s goal his main motivator during the story.

As for the plotline with the more personal goal, the myth of Eros and Psyche makes the perfect outline for it. Aphrodite is already the main antagonist of the tale, so there’s no need for any massive changes when it comes to her jealousy and want to dispose Psyche. The tasks she gives to her could also be mostly unchanged, if adjusted with something that makes gameplay more immersive assuming we would get to play as her like we got to play as Dark Pit in chapter 22 in KI:U. However what needs to changed is Aphrodite’s relationship with Pit, how he and Psyche first meet and how their relationship is evolves from that point onward since following the myth to a T isn’t an option in this case. I could see Pit and Psyche’s first meeting being a result of Aphrodite’s wrath manifesting on a relatively harmless way, meaning that she already knows about this new, pretty princess that challenges her status as the supreme goddess and she’s not having any of it. As for how her wrath could manifest, it could be a your garden-variety monster attack in the first chapter disguised as someone else’s troops so no one would suspect it was her behind it. The sheer weirdness of it could catch Palutena’s attention so she sends Pit down to investigate it and to get rid of the monsters. While getting rid of them, he meets Psyche in one way or another - maybe she’s trying to escape from them or she’s trying to fight against them, either way Pit comes to her aid and they befriend each other. Maybe she’s featured on a few following chapters as minor character doing something on the background, giving them more possibilities to interact and become better friends - in these chapters Apollo could possibly be introduced along with reintroducing Poseidon, to foreshadow the roles they would play later on. What side plots would these chapters have, it could anything - maybe Pit meets Ares for the first time at this point of the story, but he’s not freed from mind control just yet.

At this point Aphrodite could be getting more angrier but she doesn’t want to out herself as the main villain yet, so she crafts a plan that would eventually lead into Poseidon hating Pit into the point of him wanting to take things into the court. Maybe she tricks Poseidon and Apollo into becoming mad at Psyche’s home city for whatever reason, like how they got angry at Troy in mythology proper. If this was the case, I think that she would keep Poseidon in the dark while letting Apollo fully know what’s going on - if Poseidon doesn’t know the true reason why Aphrodite wanted his sea monster to terrorize the city and why it was killed, he would be much more enraged when it happens. I’ve already established reasons as for why Apollo would dislike Pit, so he probably wouldn’t really need any prompting to cause Pit suffering since he’d still want some payback from that embarrassing noodle incident. So Poseidon sends his sea monster to terrorize the coastline and once citizens start asking help from the gods, Apollo lets the hate flow through him and offers nothing useful - instead he tells them to take the Hesione/Andromeda-approach and let it eat someone to calm it down oh look, it’s a reference to Perseus that’s not about Medusa for once, nice. In this case, it would be Psyche and Pit’s of course not going to let his friend die so he goes to save her, be it with or without Palutena’s approval. In my head I did imagine this as a chapter that would work amazingly with multiplayer, starting with Pit and Dark Pit distracting the monster, then Pit freeing Psyche and them setting out to kill the monster before it causes more harm. Player 2 would have to deal with changing characters on the fly but if Pittoo and Psyche had similar weapons, I don’t think it would be too distracting since they’d be playable on different parts of the chapter. But once the monster has finally been defeated, the joy is cut short by Poseidon interrupting and wanting vengeance for what happened to his monster, ending the chapter. The plot would immediately catch on the next one and what I could see happening on this chapter is that Pit’s taken into the court by Poseidon and he’s not allowed to have anyone defending him, but Dark Pit and Psyche go into his defense anyway Pittoo being the playable character. After a long and treacherous journey they find they way to the divine courthouse and tell their point of view on the events, which gives Pit the sympathy of the court and he gets away scot-free. Poseidon and Apollo may face on consequences at this point and they may even rat Aphrodite out on a subtle way, but the main group doesn’t catch it.

The following few chapters would be breathers before the plot kicks in again, Aphrodite ousting herself as the big bad in one way or another. Maybe she has sent her troops to attack some place, possibly in search for Ares since he would make a great ally on this brainwashed state. Much to her dismay he declines her offers, he and Pit fight and the helmet is smashed, but Palutena recalls Pit before anything can come out of it. The fight continues for couple following chapters, Palutena and Aphrodite are gradually getting more and more mad at each other and maybe she comes down to face Pit herself because the little brat getting on her way is starting to be really annoying now this would make a pretty cool unwinnable boss fight, but Ares comes just in time save him - que silent, cold anger between them, confusion from Pit and Palutena’s end with some extremely awkward reunions and explanations.

What could follow from here is another set more lighter chapters focused less on Aphrodite’s plans to become the supreme goddess and more of the cast getting to know each other better - Palutena and Ares reconnecting, Ares trying to form a meaningful relationship with Pit and Dark Pit, Pit and Psyche becoming better friends, etc etc. Not to say Aphrodite has given up on her plans - she’s still doing things on the background, but it’s implied that what little chaos she currently causes is serving as distraction to hide her bigger plans. Persephone could possibly be introduced at this point of the story, making it clear that she knows about the events of KI:U and that she’s going to get her payback on what happened to Hades in one way or another, possibly drop an implication that she’s working together with Aphrodite. But since everything good comes to an end and so do the breather episodes, plot would go on with Aphrodite kidnapping Pit and getting Persephone to throw him into some dark part of the Underworld, maybe even to Tartarus. And now we get into the fun part of the myth, Psyche’s four tasks!

I could see the plot separating into two directions from here on, first one being Pit’s great prison escape from wherever Persephone threw him into and the second one being the titular four tasks. The prison escape is more focused on traversing the Underworld and Pit trying get out of there while Persephone throws all kinds of obstacles at him - maybe it ends with a ghost gauntlet, since Odyssey illustrated that she can summon ghosts. Arke would make a pretty great boss fight here as well, since she could be classified as a fallen angel. Maybe her motive for going after Pit is to get his wings for herself as a mean to escape, since her own ones were ripped off as punishment for siding with the Titans. But since Pit’s a brave boy, this isn’t enough to stop him and he eventually finds his way out so there could be reunion and a final battle against Persephone.

While Pit’s great prison break is going on, Aphrodite makes an empty promise to rest of the cast that she can give Pit back, with some conditions - but just like in the myth, all she actually wants is Psyche’s death so the danger factor is amped up to eleven. I honestly don’t know how the one about sorting grains could be handled I guess it could work as a puzzle chapter, but the rest work rather well without massive changes. The one about gathering te golden fleas could now take a more direct approach, the one about getting Styx’s water is now missing the helpful eagle and the Underworld trip is largely same with the exception of Persephone not being cooperative. This would be the point where the two plotlines merge together and they take Persephone down together before leaving from the Underworld. Psyche falling for Stygian sleep in this version is up to debate, I say it could work either way. It mostly depends on when she’s going to wake up - if it’s too early it might as well not matter, if it’s after the final battle I’d say that’s too late.

As one might expect Pit’s escape makes Aphrodite furious and she challenges him into a one final battle - that brat has stolen her favorite boytoy from her, satisfaction of getting rid of the annoying princess and also her chances to become the supreme goddess way too many times, she has reached her third-act breakdown and at this point she has nothing left to lose anymore. Ares isn’t going to come back to her, Psyche is not going to die and the people under her empire have started to become less dependent of her, the last thing she can do is get rid the troublesome kid that brought her into this situation. Of course Pit ends up winning, sending the goddess to Aether to hang with Hades where they can now together sulk over the fact that they got defeated by an angel. Pit triumphantly returns to Skyworld where Palutena and others have been waiting, there’s a joyful reunion between all of them and if one wants to follow the original myth at this point, Psyche could gain divinity or immortality for her bravery for standing against Aphrodite as a mere mortal. People have become immortals for dumber reasons in Greco-Roman mythology, so at least Psyche doesn’t become immortal merely because one god thought she was pretty. Have some little banter at the end between the cast and then credits can finally roll in.

When thinking of some nice bonus content, maybe there could be a secret ending player can unlock after beating all the chapters on a certain difficulty, which confirms that everyone is doing well. If we have to deal with another long hiatus that could last for decade or two or eternity, best the game can offer is closure. Pit doesn’t have to a married man with a daughter, but at least show that he’s doing well and ready for a new adventure or that he has had many of those under his belt at this point. All one can do is hope at this point that there will be a new adventure or a happy ending that ties all the loose ends together. Praise Volupta, maybe one day dreams can come true.

______

Welp, this turned out to be much more longer and heavier than I originally expected! If nothing else, that would make an interesting fanfic. Anyway, I think I made my point clear - Aphrodite has everything a big bad needs from power to personality and motives to harass the already existing KI-cast. Even if you don’t want to go with the ideas I came up with, there’s so many myths to use and modify in which she could fill the role of the main villain. And just because there’s heavy themes it doesn’t mean it has to be without humor - I mean, there’s a lot of heavy implications in KI:U yet the game still manages to be a comedy gold mine despite those heavy implications. Writers just need to know when to be serious and when levity is needed, good pacing is something that every great story needs. For some reason I could definitely see there being a gag in which Pandora has regained her true form, only for Aphrodite to snatch it away because Pandora was living on borrowed beauty anyway and she’d like to have it back.

Though I must say that I’m proud of all of these plot bunnies I came up with. It was a fun journey to me to research, overthink, adapt and mix myths while trying to imagine who could be the next possible big bad and what the plotline relating to their villainy could be. And I came out wiser from it, so I really can’t be angry over it even if it took so me so much longer than I originally planned. I never thought that me wanting to write about a Nintendo game would make me read this much about history and philosophy yet here I am. Also now when I’m thinking of it, that last one would tie a lot of threads nicely together if they had a plotline like it on a future game - Poseidon gets to be an antagonist, Apollo gets to be an antagonist, Persephone gets to be an antagonist and Aphrodite gets to be the villain. It’s so nice when things work out this well together! Dionysus is left out though, but I guess it’s not all that bad because having too many antagonists would make the plot feel overly complicated.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my thoughts of who could replace Hades as the big bad. You can’t change my mind on Aphrodite being the best possible candidate but if you disagree with me, who do you think it could be? I’m always open for discussion so feel free to talk with me. Now there’s only one question remaining on my head - if a future Kid Icarus game had Arachne, would she be a jorōgumo?

[peanutbutterjelly-pie]

Frenzy

Summary: After Sam gets involved in a car accident Dean finds himself in an utter frenzy. Thankfully Cas shows up just at the right time.

Word Count: 1830

Tags: Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Written for the @writersofdestiel​‘s “The Day They First Met” Prompt Week

It's been five days.

Five days since Dean got the call from the hospital informing him about the car crash his little brother got involved into because some asshole ignored a red light. Five days since he dropped everything and rushed to Sam's side in a hurry, almost ending in an accident on his way there himself 'cause panic and fear nearly blinded him for anything else.

Five days since he got told by doctors that Sam was “in a serious but stable condition”. Five days since he didn't allow himself even a minute of rest.

They left Sam in a coma for the first three days due to his head injuries. Dean sat with him the entire time and actually snarled at people when they tried to bring up things like visitation hours or self care or whatever. He probably would've even forgotten to eat something altogether if the nurses wouldn't have pushed some food and water into his hands from time to time. He just had no time to think about anything else but his baby brother looking so small and vulnerable in that sterile hospital bed.

By the third day they woke him up and even though Sam remained quite loopy for a while he recovered remarkably quickly. At least fast enough to start scolding Dean for not wasting one single thought on himself.

On the fifth day they finally managed to kick him out of the hospital. Dean was, of course, rather reluctant at first, but when the doctors, very rightfully, mentioned that Sam could be out quite soon and would need someone to look out for him in the right environment because someone with a concussion and two broken legs, which would require him to use a wheelchair at least for a little while, needed extra care Dean eventually found himself driving back to his apartment to prepare for that event.

His place might not be all that much, but his complex's got a rather spacious elevator – contrary to Sam's nerdy loft downtown – and his apartment allows enough room at least in the most important spots for Sam to maneuver. Bathroom, guest room, living room. Only the kitchen might be a problem, but since Sam is prone to set an oven on fire just by looking at it Dean isn't really keen on letting him inside that room anyway, no matter the consequences.

So it comes that he's currently changing the sheets in his spare room when the doorbell rings.

Dean is inclined to ignore it at first, so not in the mood to deal with anyone at this point, but the person on the other side of the door is rather persistent and eventually even switches to an impatient knocking, making it absolutely impossible to blend out.

Dean growls and swiftly opens the door, more than determined to let out all the frustration and anger from the last few days on the person in the hallway because he's just classy like that.

But the words die in his throat as he sees himself face to face with Cas.

“Cas?” he croaks, so overwhelmed by the expected sight of his best friend he doesn't even know how to cope.

“You tried to ignore me, didn't you?” Cas narrows his eyes before pushing himself inside, suitcase right behind him. “You're getting way too predictable.”

Dean simply stares after him in a daze, wondering if he's dreaming or not.

“Aren't you supposed to be in Alaska?” he blurts out in the end.

Cas casually parks his suitcase in the hall before walking to the living room. “I was, yes. And now I'm here.”

For a moment Dean gapes at the luggage, frozen on the spot, and eventually follows his friend. “Did you just come right from the airport or do you intend to move in here?”

Cas' lips curl upwards. “Both.”

Dean blinks in confusion. “What?”

Cas sits down on the couch and pats the spot next to him in invitation. Dean considers refusing at first, to keep some distance between them, but in the end he's utterly helpless against the pull drawing him near this man who became everything to him somewhere along the way.

Not that he ever dared to voice that out loud, though.

“I'm sorry it took me so long to come back home,” Cas says as Dean drops onto the sofa cushions beside him. “I actually wanted to set out the second I heard about Sam, but the whole thing turned way more complicated than I anticipated.”

Dean clears his throat, chiding himself not to say anything stupid. “But … what about your book tour?”

Cas had been touring the US and the better part of Canada for several weeks now. And even though Dean had missed him terribly he's been so happy and proud of Cas' accomplishments. Cas had been rather successful with his writing for quite a while now, but his latest publication went through the roof faster than anyone could've imagined and he became high demand more or less over night. The book tour only one of many things on his tight schedule.

“You weren't supposed to be back for another four weeks,” Dean points out because yes, he kept a close eye on these things. “I don't want you to miss out –”

“Do you really think a book tour would be more important to me than Sam and you?” Cas asks incredulously.

Dean presses his lips into a thin line. “No, of course not,” he hurries to clarify. “But as I told you, Sam's gonna be alright –”

“I can easily reschedule the rest of the tour,” Cas cuts in with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Didn't you hear? I'm a world famous writer now, I can do whatever I want.”

A laugh bursts out of Dean's chest.

The first one in five days.

Damn, how he missed having Cas around.

“So … you wanna move in?” he wonders, nodding at the suitcase in the hallway with a question mark on his face.

“Naturally,” Cas agrees. As if that's the most normal thing in the world. “Sam told me you want him to stay with you until he recovers. And considering your apartment would be very accommodating for a wheelchair that's quite the wise choice, I have to say.”

“So you –”

“I want to stay and help out as well,” Cas says with a shrug. “Don't worry, I'll just take the couch.”

Dean feels something warm blossoming inside his chest and for a moment he's barely able to breathe. Because Cas is wonderful and selfless and if Dean wouldn't be such a chickenshit he would've confessed his freaking love a long time ago.

“Cas, man, I really appreciate it,” Dean answers, his voice a bit shaky. “But – like I said, Sam is getting better – I'll be able to manage it myself –”

“I want to be here for Sam,” Cas insists. “But I also want to be here for you!”

Dean raises his brows.

“Because I know you,” Cas goes on before Dean is even able to come up with a follow-up question. “I mean, just look at you. You seem like you hadn't had a minute of rest since all of this happened.”

Dean grimaces. Of course he's totally right about that, but Dean seriously doesn't want to confirm that. Not with Cas assessing him like that.

So he mumbles, in good old Winchester fashion, “I'm fine …”

Cas instantly rolls his eyes at him. “You're not fine,” he claims. “I talked with Sam, you know? You barely ate or slept, you didn't even think about telling your employees what was happening. You just rushed out of the garage and never returned.”

Dean grimaces.

Right.

He knew he forgot something.

“Shit,” he whispers, rubbing his temples and cursing his past self.

“Well, at least you remembered to call me,” Cas states. “And when he didn't hear from you Benny reached out to me to learn what's going on.” As Dean immediately opens his mouth to dig further about that, Cas adds right away, “Don't worry, I explained everything. He's managing the garage in your absence.”

Dean can't help feeling incredibly guilty all of a sudden. He noticed several messages and missed calls on his phone, some of them from Benny, but he ignored all of them because he didn't have the strength to deal with any of that. Dean squeezes his eyes shut and urges himself to call Benny pretty soon.

“I didn't mean for you to feel bad about this,” Cas apologizes immediately as he notices Dean's expression. “I just wanted to point out that you're a selfless person. And an idiot.”

Dean scowls at that. “Hey!”

“You always go out of your way to take care of anyone else,” Cas continues, a gentle smile on his lips. “You're a natural nurturer, Dean, and that's one of the things I love about you.”

Dean chokes on air at the nonchalant use of such a powerful word and can't help a fierce blush.

“But you're horrible in regards to yourself,” Cas accuses. “Be it either to take a step back to get a little rest or see yourself a patient in the first place. Remember the last time you had the flu? I basically had to chain you to the bed.”

Dean's flush only grows as he recalls Cas actually ending up sitting on top of him to keep him warm and cozy underneath the covers. That memory has a very special place in Dean's mind.

“So I'm here to help you,” Cas summarizes. “To help you not to work yourself to the ground.”

There is another protest forming on Dean's tongue, eager to get out there, but it gets stuck in his throat as Cas' hand suddenly cups his cheek. For a minute or two everything else ceases to exist apart from that soft touch and Dean almost whimpers, it feels so good.

And he doesn't even know how it happens, but just a moment later he finds his head nestled in Cas' lap.

Dean's heart runs wildly, making him go dizzy in the process. But at the same time he feels weirdly relaxed, Cas' familiar smell letting his muscles loosen up all on their own. Like a burden has been lifted from his shoulders.

And when eventually fingers card through his hair, Dean sighs in contentment and knows for sure that nothing could ever feel any better than this.

“Just rest,” Cas whispers. “Let go for a while and recharge your batteries.”

Dean looks up, right into Cas' eyes. They're tender and filled with emotions and Dean realizes he's the luckiest guy on the planet. And if he'd have a bit more energy he'd heave himself upwards and kiss those inviting lips.

As it is right now, though, Dean merely smiles lazily and whispers, “I'm glad you're here,” before drifting off to sleep.

And just before unconsciousness takes over he believes he hears a heartfelt, “I'm not going anywhere.”

[youreacowgirllikeme]

Moments

Notes: I was a bit in the feels today, so here is some soft Chris fic nobody asked for, with a bit of angst thrown in. there may be some inaccuracies regarding the timeline, but this is fiction, so…enjoy

Warnings: swearing, slight angst

Your relationship has always been a funny one.

You’ve met three years ago when Chris was still working with you at New Day, the early mornings spent together, cracking bad jokes over the strongest coffee known to men had created a strange, but lasting sense of comradery between the two of you.

He has always been a bit of a flirt, but in a funny, nonchalant way, and there was that invisible line, that unspoken rule that the two of you would never do anything more than the occasional bantering and bickering. No feelings involved.

But still, there were the occasional moments that made you think, made you mentally recalibrate the relationship to someone you usually considered just a good friend.

The first one was on one of those early morning elevator rides, you were running late and just barely managed to sneak a hand between the closing doors. Chris was the only other occupant, nursing his coffee and snickering as he saw your slightly disheveled appearance.

“Doing some morning sport, Y/N?” he asked, and you just flipped him the bird.

“Feeling cheeky today, aren’t we?” he responded, and suddenly took a step in your direction, looking at you.

“You have a leaf in your hair.” He said, voice going oddly quiet, and then his hand reached out to pick the small green thing out of your tousled locks. Your scalp was prickling in a strange way and your heart gave a soft thump that you blamed entirely on still being slightly out of breath. Your eyes were locked with his, and for the first time you realized just what a mesmerizing shade of blue they were.

“Thank you.” You replied, voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re welcome.” He murmured, eyes never leaving yours.

Then the mechanical voice of the elevator announced your arrival on the studio floor, and whatever spell there has been between you got broken by the opening doors.

“I’ll see you in the meeting room in five.” he said, and hurried out of the elevator to his office, leaving you behind trying to make sense of what just transpired between the two of you.

The situation was never brought up again, and nothing changed. You kept up your job as assistant producer, providing Chris and Alisyn with the content they needed to pull off a good show, and kept Chris ego from inflating too much with the occasional well-meant criticism or lighthearted teasing.

Then, the office Christmas party happened.

You had a blast, drinking eggnog and aimlessly swaying along to the shitty Christmas playlist some intern had put together.

Chris had brought a date, some woman you’ve never seen before. You were trying not to be annoyed by the obnoxious way she laughed about jokes Chris cracked, or how she clung to his arm like a blonde, perfumed kraken. You did your best to ignore the pair for most of the evening.

When the lady finally went to the bathroom, you approached Chris where he was leaning against a wall in a quieter corner of the office. The eggnog made you bold, so you cut right to the case.

“So, who’s blondie? Never seen her around before.” you tried your best to sound as normal as possible. “She almost died of laughter at that joke you made back there, it wasn’t even that funny.”

“Maybe she just has better humor than you.” Chris said, giving you a smirk.

“Ha, as if. You know my humor is superior.” You said, your voice coming out way louder than intended. You poked his chest with your index finger and stilled for a moment as you felt the steel hard muscle under his dress shirt. You knew he worked out, but that was new.

“Jesus, you’re drunk, Y/N.” Chris chuckled. Oh, he was going to enjoy the hell out of teasing you about this for the next weeks.

You just stared at him, trying to come up with some clever remark, but your brain felt fuzzy and funny, so you just stuck to “Shut up, Cuomo.”

He brought his face down a bit, so it was nearly on your level. He was close enough for you to get a whiff of his aftershave, he smelled heavenly.

“Hey, watch your mouth.” He said, and you weren’t sure if his tone was still teasing. You felt a blush forming on your face at the intense look he was giving you.

“Never will.” You shot back, struggling to keep your voice steady. Some strange energy was buzzing between the two of you, it was one of those moments where every outcome seemed possible.

“Chriiiis, come over, I wanna dance!”

And just like that, the moment was over, broken by the screech of Chris’s blonde side kick making her way over to you.

“Coming, just give me a moment.” He called back.

But you fled before he could say another word to you, the ugly emotion in your chest feeling a lot like jealousy now.

Blondie never showed up or was mentioned again, so you figured that whatever thing Chris had with her didn’t work out. You tried not to feel a small sense of satisfaction.

Chris, as expected, teased you mercilessly about your run-in with the eggnog, but never brought up the strange tension that sometimes was tangible when the two of you were alone together. You didn’t either and over time, it just dissolved, the two of you going back to the easy and carefree joking you were familiar with.

But sometimes, you were watching him from afar, and if you would’ve paid closer attention you would’ve noticed that he was watching you as well.

A few months later, Chris approached you during an ad break.

“Could you maybe drop by my office after we wrap it here? There’s something I need to discuss with you.” He sounded as serious as you’ve ever heard him, so you swallowed the inappropriate joke that was already on the tip of your tongue and just replied “Sure thing.” before he had to get back in front of the camera.

You tried to ignore the way your heart was fluttering when you walked down the corridor to his office after the show. It was just a chat with Chris, like you’ve already had a thousand times before, you told yourself as you tried to calm your nerves.

Except that it wasn’t.

“Prime Time? An hour, every day?” you exclaimed; excitement evident in your voice.

“Oh my God, Chris, I’m so thrilled for you, this is huge.”

Chris just beamed at you, full of pride and looking so happy that it was infectious.

“You are the first person I’m telling the news, Y/N, because I wanted to ask you to come with me and be executive producer. I can make some demands regarding certain positions, and as much as it pains me to admit it, I can’t imagine doing a show without that weird, brilliant brain of yours.” He grinned, and you couldn’t believe your ears.

“You want me to be your executive producer?” you asked, a bit choked up because of all the emotions you were feeling. You didn’t really know how to respond, so you just stepped forward and threw your arm around Chris. You were too short to properly reach around his bulky frame, but you just hugged him as tight as you could, pressing your head into his chest and just whispering “I’d be honored.”

You could feel large, strong arms embracing you, and heard Chris amused voice close to your ear.

“It’s a deal then.”

You let go of him and looked up into his face. He was smiling down at you, looking so genuinely happy that your stomach gave a little flip.

One of his large hands came up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You didn’t move a muscle, praying that your face wouldn’t betray the excitement you felt at having him so close.

“I could not do this without you, Y/N, thank you for trusting me, and for your loyalty. It means the world.”

“Sure thing, Cuomo.” You whispered, and it took every ounce of self-control not to close the gap between your faces and just kiss him. No, you reminded yourself, you were colleagues, and the new show was too important to jeopardize it by letting pesky feelings get in the way. So, you took a step back, quickly collected yourself, and spoke with new confidence in your voice.

“So, when are you going to tell Alisyn?”

Cuomo Prime Time was a huge success. Chris thrived on being able to plan his own show, picking out the content and guests with much more freedom than he had at New Day. Seeing him so in his element made you happy as well, and the new degree of responsibility was much less scary with him by your side. He was a confident, reliable and steady presence in the studio, and you felt like your friendship only grew stronger during the intense discussions you had while planning the next show.

Unfortunately, your crush grew as well. You’ve always been aware that Chris was smart, and a dedicated journalist on top, but being the anchor for his own show brought a more mature and sincere side out in him. He really poured his heart into the show, and yours was a little more his with each day.

You cheered for him after a he gave a successful interview, calmed him down when a guest had been particularly vile and untruthful and comforted him when right-wing nut jobs dragged him on social media, because you knew how much that got to him, even if he would never admit it.

Then, January 6th happened. Hell broke loose in Washington DC, and your team was on it the second the extent of the insurrection became known. You planned a special edition of Prime Time in light speed, and Chris was on fire, on camera as well as behind the scenes. He called on all his background contacts, gathering as much insider information as he could.

When it was announced that Trump would be impeached for the second time, Chris got into it with so much dedication and vigor that it got you slightly worried. He would spend all his time in the studio, on the phone, writing mails, tweeting, barely sleeping.

You tried to talk him into going home more than once, but he just dismissed you.

He spent the days of the impeachment trial basically living in the CNN building, the time he wasn’t on air his eyes were glued to the screen, taking in every debate that was held on the senate floor, cursing Trumps lawyers and the GOP members defending him with so much fury that you almost got scared. As it became clearer and clearer that the trial would result in an acquittal, your worry about how Chris would handle the outcome grew. And rightly so.

The acquittal was announced, and he was furious, slamming his fist on his desk and throwing his CNN mug across the room where it shattered into a hundred little pieces on the opposite wall. You had never seen Chris like that, and while it terrified you how he was behaving, you knew that you could not leave him to his own devices now.

“Damn it, go home, Y/N, I need to be alone!” He snapped at you. You flinched at his harsh words but did not back down.

“Forget it, Cuomo, you need a friend now.” You said, resolute, carefully approaching him from behind at his desk, putting your hand on his shoulders and applying some comforting pressure. But he shook you off and turned around in his chair to look at you, tension, anger and sadness coming off him in waves.

“I said.” He swallowed, his voice almost giving out. “Leave me alone.” And then he broke down, burying his face in his hands while dry, angry sobs shook his whole body. Seeing that strong, controlled man like this felt like a punch to the gut, and you carefully kneeled before him. You put your arms around his body and just held him while all the tension from the last days, even weeks, fell off. It was this moment when you realized the full extent of your emotions for Chris. There was just nothing you wouldn´t do to make sure he would never feel like this again.

When he finally calmed down and raised his head, you took his face between your hands, put your forehead against his and looked him deep in the eyes.

“They will be held accountable, I promise you. We’re going to do what we do best, we get after it and we are going to show the American people the truth.” You said, voice full of passion and conviction.

His eyes were still looking lost, but his face hardened, and he gave a single, sharp nod.

“We will. Those fuckers better get ready, because I will drag every single one of them into the light. They will not get away with that.”

“That’s the spirit I want to see.” You said, giving him a small smile.

Your hands were still on his face, and you couldn’t bring yourself to move them away just yet. He still looked so vulnerable, and you slowly began to brush your thumb over his cheek.

He closed his eyes and he leaned into your touch like a cat. Seeing him like this made your heart almost jump out of your throat, you really were head over heels for him.

He was at peace for a moment, and you unconsciously leant forward until your noses were almost touching. Now was the right moment, you thought, now you would finally go for it.

But then he opened his eyes again, and they went hard as he saw how close you were. He pushed your hands away and you could feel his walls going up, shutting you out.

“What do you think you are doing.” He barked. “I don’t need a pity party, I can handle myself.” His words felt like a slap to the face, there was no sign of the man that you held in your arms some minutes ago. You felt the sting of tears in your eyes and stoop up from the floor, bringing some distance between you and Chris.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you asked in a quiet voice. You didn’t want to scream, because if you got yourself worked up the tears would start to fall. And there was no way he would see you crying, not now. “I was just trying to help you and be there for you.”

He gave a small, humorless laugh. There was no warmth in his eyes anymore, and you felt like you might be sick at the look he was giving you.

“Like I said, I don’t need pity, or anything else from you right now, so how about you finally leave me alone, Y/N?”

He turned his back to you, the dismissal evident in his posture.

“Chris?” you tried, but he wasn’t answering. You started to get angry, and with the anger the tears started to fall. You were almost glad he wasn’t looking at you.

“Fine, go fuck yourself then. I was trying to help, I thought we had something there…” your voice gave out with a choked sound, and you fled the office before totally breaking down in front of him.

You cried all the way home, and even there the tears didn’t stop. It hurt, more than you could’ve imagined, and even though you tried your best to distract yourself, your mind always wandered back to the way he had pushed your hands away and the harsh tone of his voice as he told you to leave him alone.

Above all, you were angry at yourself for developing feelings for him in the first place. He was complicated, and proud, and your gut had told you from the very beginning that it wasn’t a good idea to get too close. That you would just end up getting hurt. You should have listened.

You were ripped out of your thoughts by the sound of your doorbell, followed by a series of sharp knocks against the door of your apartment.

“Y/N!”

It was Chris. What the hell was he doing here?

You quickly dried your eyes and made your way over to the door. You already were in your pajamas but didn’t care. It wasn’t as if you owed the guy anything.

You opened the door forcefully, anger slowly taking over. How dared he just show up here after treating you this way?

But your resolve crumbled as you took in Chris’ appearance.

He looked like shit. His suit was wrinkled, and there were bags under his bloodshot eyes. He looked like he’d been crying.

“What is it, Chris?” you said, your voice not betraying the emotional turmoil you were in. You felt anger, sadness, worry and hurt at the same time, but there also was a glimpse of hopefulness, because there had to be a reason Chris came all the way to your apartment that late in the evening.

“Y/N.” he began, and you almost started crying again at how lost he sounded.

“I am so monumentally sorry. I fucked up big time with how I treated you back there, I was so angry and confused, but that’s no excuse for the way I acted. I just wanted to let you know how deeply sorry I am, and I just hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

He looked like a kicked puppy, and your heart hurt seeing him like this. But still, you had to address the elephant in the room. Because there was no way he hadn’t noticed what you were about to do back in his office. He was no fool, and he owed you at least a talk about it.

“Chris, I forgive you.” You said, and he breathed out on relief.

“But we have to talk about what happened. You knew what I was about to do. And I am sorry if I read too much into your behavior towards me, I just really thought we were having a moment. But the way you reacted, the way you looked at me like you did…it is totally okay if you don’t feel the same way for me, but do you really hate the idea of us that much that you had to look at me as if you were disgusted by me? I thought we were at least friends.” You stopped as you felt your voice starting to break again. Saying this out loud hurt so much, you just wanted to go back to your bed and cry some more.

Chris looked like someone had punched him in the face.

“Oh no, no shit, please Y/N-” He paused, rubbing his face with his hands in exasperation.

“I thought you were just taking pity on me.” He said in a small voice you had never heard from him before. “Jesus, Y/N, I am an angry, bitter man. And I am much older than you. I never saw a chance for us, but I’m selfish, so I kept you close. You are way too good for me, and I didn’t want to have a moment with you only for you to realize how messed up I am afterwards. I never even thought about the possibility of you feeling the same way.”

He sounded as if he still couldn’t believe it.

You just stared at Chris. His hands were fidgeting, he looked so nervous and hopeful, and your heart was soaring, the force of your feelings for him almost overwhelming you.

“God, Cuomo, you are such a damn idiot.”

And with that, you threw yourself into his arms and kissed him. He responded right away, embracing you and holding you so close to his chest that you could feel his racing heartbeat. His lips were warm and soft, and his body fit into yours as if you were made for each other. It felt wonderful and goosebumps were breaking out all over your body as Chris tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue slowly sliding across your bottom lip.

You never wanted to let go, but you were still standing in the hallway in front of your apartment, and you were wearing your pajamas.

You reluctantly broke the kiss, but Chris cupped your jaw and drew you close for another one, short and sweet this time.

“I can’t just stop after finally getting what I want.” He said softly.

Your heart gave a little jump at his words, and you pressed another kiss to his lips.

“You can get as many of them as you want but come inside first. I don’t want my neighbors to see me like this.”

“I actually think your sleepwear is pretty cute. Pink, I like it.”

You smacked his arm in a playful manner and when he smiled back at you, everything felt right in the world.

[arvandus]

A Quiet Kind of Love (ONESHOT)

WARNINGS: Angst, fluff

Pairing: Kirishima X Fem!Reader

Word count: 6.2k

Summary: Prom night is here, and you can’t avoid it any longer.  You’re going to have to confess to your best friend, a certain red-headed, shark-toothed man.  But things don’t quite go as planned...

------------------------------------------

Kirishima stared at himself in the mirror.  His reflection stared back at him in a black suit, a deep red shirt and black tie, his hands nervously adjusting it once again.  However, he was more focused on the red that dusted across his cheeks and the nervous glimmer that he saw in his own eyes.

Dear God, he hadn’t even left his room and he was already a mess of nerves.  His mind kept circling back to a single thought:  You would be there.

Granted, everyone would be there.  It was prom, after all.  Even more importantly, it would be the last major gathering for Class 3A before everyone graduated and moved on to work at different hero agencies.  The finality of it almost brought tears to his eyes.  It wasn’t that he wouldn’t keep in touch with his friends or continue to hang out after graduation, but no one could deny that life would be very different once their time at UA ended.

Kirishima couldn’t help but wonder if you would keep in touch with him.  You were friends, of course, but as of late you’d lost some of that closeness and he wasn’t sure why.  He had gotten so used to you being a presence in his life that when you suddenly began to become unavailable, he couldn’t help but wonder if he did something wrong.  Sure, you always had a good reason for not being around.  You had a huge report you had to write, or an interview to prepare for, or extended family visiting... the list of excuses went on and on.  He had racked his brain trying to pinpoint the moment things changed between you two, but came up with nothing, which bothered him even more.  All he wanted was to see you smile at him again, to hang out together late into the evening talking about everything and nothing, to send stupid text messages to each other.  He felt your absence painfully and began to realize just how much you were a part of his life and how important you really were to him.  His days were feeling empty without you.

He didn’t even know if you had a date tonight.  The thought festered in his head and an uncharacteristic frown grew on his face.  He knew that if you came with a date, that he would leave you alone and not bring up what’d been plaguing his mind the past few weeks.  He was a gentleman after all, and he saw no point in chasing you down and cornering you to talk to him if you clearly weren’t interested.  If, however, you were by yourself, then he promised himself that he would find a chance to talk to you.

----------------------------

Of course, little did he know, you were getting ready in your own room with thoughts of your own regarding the red-headed man.  Contrary to him, however, you know exactly why you had made yourself scarce around him.

To put it quite frankly, you realized that you were in love with him.  Not a crush, like what your friend Mina often went through.  Not lust, although you couldn’t deny that you were definitely attracted to him.  It was love, quiet and sneaky and unassuming.  It found a warm place in your heart unbeknownst to you and grew there, fed by friendship, trust, and openness.  You were so unaware of its presence that you couldn’t even really say or pinpoint when your feelings for him became love.  Instead, it hit you by surprise one day, like finding a beautiful flower in your garden.  You were hanging out with Kirishima and the others, everyone laughing and telling jokes (except for Bakugou of course, who hardly participated but never left). Sero was sharing a hilarious story from one of his internships when both you and Kirishima, laughing hysterically, made eye contact.

That was it.  You’d looked at each other countless times in countless scenarios.  But that time… that time all you could think about was how you didn’t want him to stop looking at you, how you wondered what his lips would feel like on yours.

After that moment, everything changed.  Suddenly Kirishima occupied every thought in your waking and sleeping brain.  That one moment was like a dam being broken, its turbulent watery torrents sweeping you away.  You were remembering everything, every detail of your friendship with him. The way he always treated you with respect, the way he made you laugh, the way he let you cry on his shoulder when you had a bad day.  Memory after memory flooded through you, each with new meaning to it.  How he had held your hair for you the first time you drank too much.  How he had checked on you when you got hurt in a fight. How he carried you back to the dorms, piggyback style, when you had sprained your ankle.

After that, you couldn’t bear to be around him.  You began making yourself scarce, creating reasons why you couldn’t hang out with the gang, knowing he’d be there.  That alone was difficult, since it required you to distance yourself from everyone, not just him.  Kirishima texted you often to check in with you and talked to you during class, but you always did your best to reassure him everything was fine, even as you distanced yourself from him.  You could tell it was taking a toll on your friendship, but at the time it seemed better to put a little bit of strain and hope it could bend under the pressure, instead of outright breaking it by confessing.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be around him.  In fact, it was the opposite: you wanted to be around him too much.  You didn’t know how to act around him anymore. You just needed time to get your feelings in check.  You were terrified that you would either do something you’d regret, or he’d somehow read your mind and see what you were feeling.  Sure, he had a reputation for being a little dense, but when it came to the two of you, there were hardly any secrets. You’d gotten so familiar with each other that you were in tune with each other’s mannerisms. One slip-up is all it would take.

That was what scared you the most.  Kirishima was one of your closest friends, and you didn’t want to ruin that by confessing something to him that you were still struggling to understand.  With the love, came the fear.  The fear of not just rejection but of losing him entirely. So your brain replayed all of the ways that you loved him, all the things he did, and your brain callously took those memories and chalked them up to ‘well, he’s just a really nice guy’ and ‘that didn’t really mean anything, he was just doing what he thought was right.’  And then you felt guilty, as if you were betraying him somehow by taking all of the ways that he had been kind to you and putting them into a romantic context without his permission.  Were you, in some strange way, betraying his trust?  He had always been so kind and respectful to you because he valued you as a friend.  So, shouldn’t you just continue to think of him the same way?

Easier said than done.

In all honesty, you weren’t planning on going to prom.  You had a feeling he would be there, and you really couldn’t bear to face him again just yet.  But Mina and Tsuyu convinced you to go, and you couldn’t let your friends down.  You felt as if you were walking a tight rope across a ravine with no way out, just empty air on either side, and all it would take would be a single gust to make you fall down, down, down… there were no good choices.  If you couldn’t get your feelings in check then you’d have to confess.  You at least owed him that much.  He deserved an explanation if things couldn’t go back to normal.

What if he had a date? The thought made your stomach drop to your toes and a lightheaded nausea swept over you as you braced yourself against your chair in your room.  Just imagining it was painful.  How could you even face him after that?

You blinked your eyes rapidly in an attempt to fight the wetness without ruining your makeup. There was no point in getting worked up on the what-ifs.  Prepare for the worst but hope for the best.

You stared at your reflection one last time, taking in your appearance. How you styled your hair, how you styled your makeup, the dress you wore… black with a red floral design.  You had realized too late that you had gravitated towards his color palette, but nothing could be done about it now.  You wondered if he’d notice.

-------------------

He noticed.  In fact, it was the first thing he noticed when he saw you walk into the large auditorium, music blaring and lights flashing in beat to the music. Kirishima’s breath caught in his throat and he was grateful the poor lighting hid his blush.  You arrived with the other girls of course, one big wave of colorful, feminine dresses.

Your eyes found his instantly and you froze.  God, he looked good.  Then you realized… you matched.   Before you could organize your frazzled brain, he walked over with Bakugou, Sero, and Kaminari in tow.

“Hey!” He said with his signature smile, while the others greeted each other.

“H-Hey.” You replied, struggling to keep your voice casual.

“Long time no see.” He said.

“Yeah, sorry about that…” you offered a sheepish half-smile.

“It’s ok. You look nice!” Kirishima offered.

You averted your gaze in embarrassment.  “…thanks. You too.”  He’s just being nice, you thought.

“We match,” he pointed out teasingly.

Your words caught in your throat at his blatant comment, your mouth open like a fish as his words hit too close to home for you.  You weren’t ready for it.

“Yeah. Sorry, I’ll be right back.” You forced out, before bolting away into the crowd, leaving Kirishima dumbfounded.

It wasn’t long before you found what you were looking for: the snack bar.  You grabbed a water bottle and downed its contents before immediately grabbing the cup of popcorn and stuffing your face.

Why.  Why did you do that?? Just run away from him like that?

You spotted Tsuyu approaching you out of the corner of your eye, and she gave you a knowing look. She was the only one who knew of your predicament, which you were grateful for. She was excellent at keeping a secret and always approached an issue with a level head.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“No… I’m such an idiot!” you seethed.  “why did I run off like that?”

“He did look a little crushed…” She replied.

“Tsuyu!” you scolded. “Not helping!”

“Shouldn’t that be a good thing?” she pointed out.  “If he was sad that you left, then that means he wanted you to stick around.”

“Or he was sad because he thinks I hate him or something.” You replied, which didn’t sound much better. In fact, it sounded worse.  “Geez, why did I even come to this.”

“Because if you didn’t then you’d regret it.” Tsuyu replied.  “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

“Well, you also miss 100% of the shots if you scare away your target.”

“Relax.” She soothed. “Just go back and hang out with the group.  They won’t think anything of it.”

“I can’t.” you mumbled. “Not yet, anyway.  I just… need time to adjust so I don’t say something stupid to him.  Or worse, do something stupid. Ugh, Tsuyu, did you see how handsome he was?  It’s not fair.”

Tsuyu grinned at your lovestruck expression.  “Well, you can come hang out with Uraraka, Tenya, Midoriya and I if you’d like.” Tsuyu offered.

You gave a grateful smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. “Thanks, Tsuyu.  Just for a little bit.”

-------------------

Kirishima shifted in his spot next to Bakugou as the two men leaned against the wall together.  Mina, Sero and Kaminari has long-since abandoned them for the festivities when their repeated attempts to include them failed. Bakugou, of course, was mostly silent, casting his glare at every pretty girl that tried to ask him for a dance. Kirishima, on the other hand, couldn’t stop fidgeting as his thoughts ran wild.

You never came back.

His eyes spotted you multiple times across the dance floor as you danced with your other friends.  You somehow never made eye contact with him, which only told him one thing: you weren’t looking for him.  This in turn, led to another discovery: he probably scared you away.

“Dammit, what was I thinking?” he muttered to himself.

Bakugou gave Kirishima a side glance and followed his gaze to see you dancing on the dance floor. “What are you doing here, Shitty Hair?” he grumbled.

“What, me?” Kirishima exclaimed.  

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “No, the other Shitty Hair.”

Kirishima let Bakugou’s sarcasm slide over him.  He gave a heavy sigh and hung his head, his brows furrowed together.  “Watching my nonexistent love life go down the toilet.”

Bakugou’s face twitched in anger.  “What kind of bullshit answer is that?!”

“What??”

“Aren’t you all about being ‘manly’?”  Bakugou scolded.  “How is giving up ‘manly’?”

“I’m not going to force myself on her.” Kirishima responded.  “She practically ran away, you saw it earlier.  I think it’s pretty obvious she’s not interested.”

“So fucking what!” Bakugou exclaimed. “If you don’t put yourself out there, then you’re just another extra. You don’t have to be a dick about it, but you can still talk to her. You won’t know for sure unless you do. Besides, if she rejects you, then it’s her fucking loss.”

Kirishima stared at him wide-eyed.  “Wow, bro… that was… actually really nice of you.”

Bakugou scoffed and looked away. “Shut up.  If you don’t go talk to her then I will.” He sneered.

Kirishima’s eyes widened. “No… that’s a terrible idea.”

“You’re damn right it is.” Bakugou grumbled.  “So get the fuck off this wall and go be manly or whatever.”

Kirishima grinned at Bakugou’s pep-talk.  He wasn’t going to deny that it stirred something in him.  Kirishima prepared himself, squaring his shoulders, and setting his jaw before marching out onto the dance floor.

Of course, he only made it about halfway when he saw something that made him falter.

His ragtag friends managed to find you in the throng of people, led by Mina who waved you down. He watched as everyone exchanged greetings.  When Kaminari greeted you with smiles and laughs, you smiled back at him and gave him a hug, your face lighting up in a way that stirred something in Kirishima. It stabbed him in his gut and twisted, making him feel nauseous and… angry?

Jealous.  He was jealous.  He wanted you to look at him like that.  You used to look at him like that, like you were happy to have him around. You used to hug him when you greeted him, your arms wrapping around him in a playful squeeze.  He missed it.  He missed all of it, and there you were giving it freely to everyone else but him. You looked happy without him and the realization twisted like a knife.

-------------------

When the squad first approached, your heart leapt into your throat as your eyes immediately scanned for the familiar spikey red hair.  You didn’t see him though, or Bakugou for that matter.  A confusing wave of relief and longing washed over you.  You wanted to ask where he was, but you weren’t ready yet. You still didn’t know what you were going to say to him.

“So this is where you ran off to!” Mina exclaimed, as everyone exchanged hugs.

“What, are we not good enough for you?” Kaminari teased.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” You scoffed, punching his arm playfully and he grinned.  

“It was my fault.” Tsuyu chimed in.  “We got caught up talking at the snack bar then ended up hanging out over here with everyone.”  The rest of the group behind her smiled and nodded in agreement.

“The snack bar, huh?” Sero teased.

You offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I skipped lunch and you know how I am about free food…”

“It’s cool.  Why don’t we all hang together then?” Sero offered.

“Where’s Kacchan?” Midoriya asked.

Kaminari shrugged. “Being a wallflower as usual. Kirishima is keeping him company.”

Your eyes immediately scanned for him along the periphery, but from your position you couldn’t see much beyond the dancing people and flashing colors.

“Someone should probably rescue him…” Mina said pointedly as she locked eyes with you, and you knew immediately she wasn’t talking about Bakugou.  

Your mouth went dry. She knew.  Somehow, she figured it out.  Well, maybe it wasn’t that hard to figure out, especially with her penchant for romance and your friendship with her.  Still, the sudden discovery froze you like a deer in headlights.  You loved Mina, but you had chosen not to tell her because she was also close friends with Kiri.  She was a great friend and always meant well but you didn’t want her to try to play matchmaker before you were ready.  You struggled to hide the guilty look on your face while she gave you a teasing grin and the slightest raise of an eyebrow.

Kaminari chimed in before you could speak.  “Eh, I’m sure they’re fine.  Besides, we tried, didn’t we?  They both kept turning us down.”

“Maybe we can try again in a little bit.” You added, giving Mina a look of your own.

Soon. You were going to do it.  But first you wanted to hang out with friends for a little bit longer, just in case things turned sour later. It’d been a while since you’d really hung out with everyone all at once.  Besides, Kiri was such a social butterfly that you figured he’d show up soon anyway. Maybe that would be your cue to ask to talk privately.  All you had to do was wait.

------------------ 

Kirishima froze in his tracks, unsure of what to do.  He clenched his fists at his sides.  This was stupid.  How unmanly of him being jealous of your friendship with Kaminari.  He reminded himself that there was nothing to worry about, and that it was all just a misunderstanding that had to be cleared up. You’d always been able to resolve any issues in the past, so why should this be any different?

He began to move forward when a slow song suddenly came on.  He watched as Kaminari offered you his hand with an exaggerated flourish while Mina paired up with Sero.  In utter mortification, Kirishima watched as you laughed and took it, allowing him to pull you into a slow dance with your proximity far too close for Kirishima’s taste. You continued to smile and laugh, and the crack in Kirishima’s armor fractured.

Like a wave of destruction, his insecurities and fears came crashing down on him.  It felt like he was in middle school again, paralyzed and useless.  Was he wrong?  Did he miss something?  He never noticed anything between you and Kaminari before.  You’d never said anything to him about it, never even hinted at it.  Sure, you and Kaminari joked around a lot, but it never seemed like anything else.  

All this time, the past few months you’d been drifting away, he thought it had to do with him, that it was something he’d unintentionally broken that he’d be able to fix if he could just get a chance to talk to you.  He had so much he wanted to say.

Instead, a worse realization came to the forefront of his mind: What if this had nothing to do with him?  What if he was losing you and it was beyond his control?  Was this how friendships drifted apart?  Did he already lose you?

He wanted to disappear, to let the earth swallow him whole.  He could feel hot tears brimming his eyes.  He tried to will them away, but he couldn’t. Instead, his feet carried him swiftly off the dance floor and out the double doors.

----------------

Bakugou saw the whole thing from his perch and swore.  “Fuck.”

He stomped his way through the throng of people, not caring who he bumped shoulders with, earning a few glares until his peers realized who he was.

“What a bunch of fucking morons.” He grumbled.

He reached you and Kaminari and without a word he grabbed Kaminari by the ear and began dragging him away.

“Hey, what the hell man?!” Kaminari shouted.

You stood there dumbfounded before you furrowed your brow in anger.  “Bakugou, knock it off!” You yelled.  The space around your group was swiftly opening up as others distances themselves from the drama unfolding.

Bakugou pointed an accusing finger at you.   “Shut up.” He demanded, his face scrunched up in anger.  

You stood there dumbfounded. It wasn’t the first time Bakugou spoke to you roughly, but this time was different.  There was no underlying teasing to bring warmth to his harsh words. Instead, the words were like an icy whiplash.  He meant them, and he was pissed.

He turned to Kaminari. “And you!  Are you really that fucking dense, dunce face??”

“Dude, what are you talking about??” Kaminari demanded, confusion written all over his face. “Bro, are you jealous?”

Bakugou’s face turned red with anger and his hands started to smoke.  The gap between the group and the other students grew wider.  A single thought occupied the forefront of your brain – where was Kirishima? He was always the best at calming Bakugou’s temper.

“You think I’m jealous??” Bakugou spat.

Sero chimed in to try to mitigate.  “It was just a dance, Bakugou!”

“Tell that to Kirishima, you idiot!” Bakugou snapped.

You suddenly felt lightheaded and your legs turned to jelly.  Realization began to dawn on you.

“W-what…?” You stuttered, and suddenly you could feel all eyes on you. But it didn’t matter because you only wanted to know one thing.  “Where is Kirishima??”

Bakugou scrutinized you with his glare.  “He fucking left.” Your breath caught in your throat and your heart pounded in your chest painfully as Bakugou continued.  “He was coming over to talk to you but left when it looked like you two were hooking up!”

“What?!” Kaminari exclaimed. “We weren’t hooking up! No offense, Y/N.”

You put your face in your hands.  “No! No, no, no.  This is all wrong.  I was going to talk to him, I just didn’t know how, I… I…” tears started to spill down your cheeks.

‘He cares.  He cares, and I just completely hurt him!’ Your thoughts echoed on repeat in your mind.  You could feel the panic boiling inside you, sucking away your breaths. You began gasping for air, the auditorium suddenly feeling far too small and too hot.

Suddenly, you felt Mina’s comforting hand on your shoulder blade, grounding you.

“It’s okay.” She said softly. “There’s still time. We can find him.”

You nodded and wiped your tears with the napkin that Uraraka handed to you.

Immediately the hunt began. More than half of class 3A exited through the double doors to begin searching the building for Kirishima.  Everyone split off into groups, with you being followed by Mina and Tsuyu.  Bakugou teamed up with Sero and Kaminari, and Tenya, Uraraka and Midoriya formed their own search party.

As you and your two friends searched, Mina began her round of twenty questions.

“So, how long?” she asked.

“What?” you replied, distractedly as you checked the empty cafeteria.

“How long have you been in love with Kirishima?”

Your brow furrowed. “I don’t know… a while?  Since the beginning of the semester was when I realized it, but maybe it was sooner than that.”

“And that’s why you stopped coming around as much?”

“Yeah.  I’m sorry, I just… didn’t want to ruin my friendships with everyone.  Especially him.” You felt the familiar lump form in your throat again. “Looks like I might be too late, though.”

“You should give him more credit than that.” Mina reassured.  “He’s one of the most loyal and forgiving people I know.”

You clenched your jaw as your pace quickened.  You only hoped that she was right.

Everyone searched high and low.  The classrooms, the rooftops, the training fields… Kirishima was nowhere to be found.

An hour had passed with no success before everyone reconvened outside the auditorium, the music inside still loud, the hum of thousands of voices inside chattering and laughing.  It felt almost cruel hearing everyone else having such a good time, completely oblivious of the catastrophe unfolding before your eyes.  How could you have fucked this up so badly?

“Maybe he came back and he’s inside looking for you.” Tsuyu offered.

“He’s not in there, I checked.” Bakugou replied.

“So… do we keep looking?” Sero asked.

“He’s not responding to his text messages.” Bakugou said.  “If he doesn’t want to be found, then we should leave him alone.”

You felt the defeat heavy on your shoulders.  “It’s okay. You all should go back to the dance and enjoy it.  You shouldn’t waste your night trying to fix my mess.”

“We wanted to help.” Midoriya replied, offering a kind smile.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. But this night isn’t just about me, so you guys go have fun.  I’m… I’m gonna go back to the dorms.” You replied as you felt fresh tears filling your eyes again.  The lump in your throat felt like you were trying to swallow a rock.  You needed to get out of here, to go home and be by yourself so you could break down completely.

“There’s always tomorrow.” Kaminari offered, but his words, while meant to be helpful, only left you feeling hollow.

“Y-yeah.” You replied. “Have a good night, everyone.”  Before the tears spilled over, you began your solitary trek back to the dorms, your shoes in your hands.  Your feet were killing you now from all of the running around you had done, and you had fresh blisters on your heels.

Or, the trek was supposed to be alone.  It didn’t take long to realize that Bakugou was following you.  You paused and turned to him, a confused expression on your face.

“Aren’t you going to stay?”

Bakugou scoffed. “Hell, no.” he replied.  “I hate shit like this.”

You weren’t so convinced. Maybe he was planning on following you back to see if Kirishima was at the dorms.

“You’re a good friend.” You commented as you began walking again.

“Hah??” he replied. He frowned and looked away as a blush creeped across his cheeks.  He put his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders.  “Don’t try to get on my good side.”

“I’m not!” you protested. “I’m just glad that Kirishima has someone like you he can count on.”

You walked in silence for a bit, guilt gnawing at you before you spoke up again.  “I’m sorry I messed everything up.”

“You people make shit too complicated.” Bakugou grumbled. “You just gotta say what you mean.”

“I wish I had your confidence.  You make it sound so easy.” You replied.

“It’s not easy.” Bakugou said as he stared straight ahead.  You waited for him to say more, but he never did.  Instead, the two of you fell into a somewhat comfortable silence as you approached the dorms.

It didn’t take long to recognize the figure sitting on the front steps of the building, and you faltered in your steps, your breath hitching in your throat.  He was here.  This whole time, he was right here.  You had thought he might come here, but you had assumed he would have gone inside to his room… you didn’t expect to see him.  He sat with his knees drawn up, propping up his arms that held his head tucked into them.  Kirishima lifted his head when he heard Bakugou’s footfalls and froze when his eyes met yours. It was hard to read his expression from this distance in the middle of the night.  But even from here you could see how handsome he was; the broadness of his muscled shoulders straining against his suit blazer; his tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck; his collarbone peeking out from the undone top button of his shirt.  It felt like electricity was coursing through your veins.  Just the sight of him was enough to give you life.

“Don’t fuck this up.” Bakugou said quietly to you and continued walking, ignoring the fact that you were no longer following him.  

As he passed Kirishima, he placed a hand on his shoulder briefly, giving it a squeeze. Kirishima gave him a confused look as Bakugou went into the dorms, closing the door behind him.

You paused for a moment, feeling the pull of the man in front of you, like two magnets being held apart.  It was painful.  You forced your legs forward until you were close enough that you could read his expression. His eyes were downcast again onto the ground, but you could see the hurt in them.

Kirishima spoke first, his voice low and strained.  “Did… did I do something wrong?  Did I hurt you in some way and not know it?” he asked.  He finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours and you gasped.  His eyes were slightly red, and his cheeks shined under the entryway lights.  He had been crying.  You made Kirishima cry.

You dropped your shoes and rushed forward, closing the distance between you two.  You put your hands on his forearms that rested on his knees. “No!  God, no.  Kiri, I’m so sorry.” You replied, tears spilling down your own cheeks.

“Then why?” he asked, straightening his back and drawing his arms away from your touch.  “You’ve stopped talking to me, you don’t really smile at me… you barely even look at me.”

“I… I realized something about myself and I didn’t know how to handle it.” You replied, drawing your hands back from his rejection and wrapping your arms around your core protectively.

Kirishima stood up and looked down at you from his perch on the steps.  “What did you realize?”  The deepness of his voice, the way it reverberated through the space between you made goosebumps crawl across your skin.

You stared at his face, drinking in the details.  The color of his eyes, the curve of his jaw, the sharpness of his teeth… it’d been a long time since you’d been this close to him and it felt like basking in warm sunlight on a spring day after a long, dark winter.  Your eyes traced over his features before finally landing on his wet cheeks.  Instinctively, you brought a hand up and rubbed your thumb across his cheek, smearing the moisture away.  His own hand, larger than yours, warm and calloused, came up and covered yours.  

You averted your eyes down to his chest in embarrassment.  You didn’t know why you were still nervous.  Perhaps it was the finality of it, of saying it out loud.

Your hand followed your eyes, slipping from his fingers to rest on his chest. You were strangely aware of the soft texture of his shirt, and you absently fiddled with his loose tie. “I love you.” You finally said, just barely above a whisper.  “I have for a while.”

“You do?” he replied, his voice laced with surprise.  “But what about Kaminari?”

“What??”

“Earlier. I dunno, it just looked…” You watched as he looked away, a blush across his cheeks.

“Like we were dancing?” you replied.

“Yeah, well… you looked happy.  Happier than I’d seen you in a long time.” He confessed.

“I was happy to spend time with my friends, and Kaminari is a funny guy.  But I don’t have feelings for him.” You explained.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t realize how it must have looked.  Honestly, I didn’t even know you were paying attention.”

“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?”

“Well, I figured you might, I don’t know… hate me or something.” You wiggled your bare toes as you looked down at them.

“What??” Kirishima sounded angry now, and you whipped your gaze up to look at him.  “Why would you think I hate you?  You stopped talking to me!”

“I know!” your voice raising to meet his.  “So, I’d understand if you’d hate me!  I’ve handled this whole thing like crap, and I’m so sorry.  You deserve better.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” his voice softened, which you were grateful for.  You could tell he didn’t want to fight, and neither did you.

“I was afraid.  You’re my best friend and if you didn’t feel the same, well… I was afraid of losing you.”

His hand once again grabbed your fidgeting one, his touch soft and gentle.  “I could never hate you.”

Deep down, you knew he was right.  The man didn’t have a hateful bone in his body.  “I know.” You breathed, your eyes downcast again.

“And you won’t lose me.” He said.  Your eyes met his again, and you were captivated as you watched the next words fall from his lips, “I love you too.”

And just like that, time moved forward again and air was filling your lungs.  Your first real smile in months spread across your face.

“Does this mean I can kiss you now?” You joked.

Kirishima chuckled and placed his free hand on your jawline, cradling you as his thumb softly stroked your cheek.  He dipped his head down, his lips capturing yours in their warmth.

Your mind went blank, washed away in the sensation of Kirishima.  He was everywhere.  His arm held you flush against him, his mouth molded with yours, his hand on your neck. You could smell his scent from his clean shirt to his shampoo to something that was so distinctly him.  You could taste him on your lips.  It took every ounce of strength not to collapse right then and there.  This was it.  This was all you ever wanted, all you ever thought about.  It was everything you hoped it would be and more.  You couldn’t stop the sappy smile and the bubble of laughter that came from your core, breaking the kiss.

Kirishima smiled down at you, full and bright.  He still held you in his arms.  “That was awesome.” He breathed.

“We should do it again.” You grinned.

But before you could lean in for a second round, you heard familiar voices behind you.

“Ho Ho!  It looks like everything worked out after all!” Sero teased.

“I knew it would!” Mina chimed in.  “Love always wins!”

Kaminari rushed to Kirishima. “Bro!  I am so sorry! I had no idea!”

“Dude, it’s cool.” Kirishima laughed.

“Nah, you were supposed to dance with her! I ruined your prom! I’m so sorry!” Kaminari cried.

“Get a grip, man…” Sero chided, as Mina started to drag Kaminari away.

“We got him…” she reassured. “He’ll be fine.”

You chuckled with amusement as you watched your friends drag the blonde man through the dormitory door, his cries silenced as the door closed. Your smile faltered.

“He’s right…” you said quietly.

Kirishima gave you a curious look.  “Who?”

“Kaminari.  We did miss our prom.  We wouldn’t have missed it if I didn’t mess everything up.  I’m sorry.” You replied.

He continued, “I don’t really think tonight was ruined, do you?”

You scratched at your cheek.  “Well, I was hoping to at least get a dance in with you…”

Kirishima laughed.  “I’m terrible at dancing, you know that.”

You smiled.  “It wouldn’t have mattered to me… anyway, a slow dance isn’t so bad, right?”

“A slow dance, huh? You want a slow dance?” a mischievous grin showed off his sharp teeth and he pulled you into his arms, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding your hand out in his.

“Kirishima, what’re you…?”

Suddenly, he began to sing. It was a song you didn’t know and to be honest, he was a terrible singer.  But as he sang, his voice heavy with vibrato, he swayed the two of you back and forth, each dance move exaggerated until he was spinning you and dipping you.  Laughter bubbled up, starting low in your gut and spilling out of your mouth, filling the night with your sound.  Kirishima grinned, loving it, loving the look of you here and happy with him, dancing barefoot to his terrible singing.

And when that was done, the two of you entered the main entrance of the dorms, with your shoes in Kirishima’s hand while his other hand held yours.  You both were still riding the high of all that had happened, and you both knew that sleep was an impossibility despite the late hour.  So instead, the two of you cuddled up on the couch in the common room, talking late into the early morning about anything and everything.  All the things you had missed with each other when you were apart, all the ways you realized you loved each other, and how things would progress now that your futures were joined together.  As you both quieted down into each other’s arms, basking in the presence of each other, drowsiness fell over both of you like a blanket, warm and safe, until you both fell asleep in each other’s arms.

[pollenat]

NCT 127 Returning to you from the war

➛ Note: Inspired by American war movies, so I had the times of World War II in mind while writing this. This is in no way meant to romanticize war. I wanted to focus on the reunion part - something that I do consider romantic. Some are lighter, some are more serious. All according to my imagination.

TAEIL

The waiting was the worst. Surrounded by a large crowd of people similar to you - impatiently expecting the train to appear - you felt small and useless. The vehicle’s interior possessed something of the utmost value to you, a part of your heart, and so with each passing minute the half that remained kept beating quicker as if it could feel the other coming closer. Your chest was about to get torn apart by the strength of gravity pulling you to your celestial body, Moon Taeil. Somewhere someone yelled, somewhere else another person sobbed and you couldn’t decide whose behavior fitted your feelings better.

As soon as the train stopped on the station, people started pillowing each other, everyone trying to climb the living pile of human beings. Your own best bet was a metal fence just asking to be climbed. Hands glued to the railing, you watched over heads of different shapes and sizes. The sobs and screams raised in volume. Men dressed in green rolled out of the train’s exit. They were too far away for you to make out their features. Somewhere in the back of your head a voice was telling you that it’d be impossible to miss Taeil, and yet, the minutes passed and no man reminded you of him. People screamed, either from happiness or relief. Some more impatient spectators tried pushing through the crowd. The living wall turned out to be too thick.

“Bobby!” an elderly woman screamed from somewhere to your right. Startled, your eyes darted in the direction to find reunited mother and son.

Someone laughed warmly next to you. A strange, but familiar voice. In a state of shock, you looked back, to where Taeil stood to your left. He was smiling widely. His cheeks were hollow. One of them had a razor cut on it. His right hand landed on your back. He seemed awkward, unsure how to react to your frozen state. A thumb rubbed your back.

“Taeil!” Perhaps an eternity passed before you realized.

You jumped off the railing and straight into his unprepared embrace. Taeil had to take a step back under your weight, but your tight hug made sure to keep him in place. You were both much weaker versions of yourselves, compared to how you were two years before. But with adrenaline pumping your blood, your arms gained something of a superhuman strength.

“So you were waiting for me after all?” He teased, but his strengthening arms told you just how relieved he was to see you. And you understood. Joking was his way of dealing with tension.

“How did you find me? I was searching for you in the crowd and couldn’t spot you.” Neither of you weakened the grip.

“You were sitting on a railing. Of course I noticed you.” His voice came out muffled, as he hid face in the side of your neck.

Someone elbowed you while pushing through the crowd, and you cringed in Taeil’s hold. His head quickly left the hiding place, as if to tell the stranger off. You saw a rare grimace of detestation decorating usually gentle features. But he didn’t snap at the woman who paid you no mind. Instead, he pulled you to the exit, arms still circled around your features.

“Let’s get out of here, hm? I’m never looking at a train again.”

“Even when we go on holidays?” Taeil looked at your face, the remnants of grimace now nowhere to be seen.

“Ask me again in a week.” Although people were screaming and weeping in the background, you heard his laughter loud and clear.

JOHNNY

Someone called for you. Busy cleaning your shelves, you welcomed the new distraction with a sigh. The past few weeks you’ve been doing nothing, but keeping yourself busy. Anything would do, as long as it kept your head away from the contents of the letter. The last one Johnny has sent you, two months before. You’ve written him back twice, and neither of the messages were answered.

Conclusion seemed obvious, though you’ve never received the bad news. You were kept in the dark, and you’ve welcomed it with last bits of hope that he’d return soon.

With one last glance at the room, you walked downstairs.

“There’s a package for you at the doorstep.”

“And you couldn’t just pick it up?” Your sibling smiled a little, though they quickly bit their lips to hide it. “What are you being so weird about?”

Opening the door, you expected a postman in his dark blue uniform. Not someone dressed in dark green and reminding you of a familiar face. A tall silhouette with wide shoulders and a flirty smile. It quickly dropped the teasing facade to spread into a wide sign of genuine happiness.

“Get it? I’m the package!” You didn’t, but stunned into silence, you could barely understand what was happening.

Johnny brought you to his chest, cheek to cheek, as he hummed happily to himself. As if he had a melody on mind, trying to lull you into sleep. You’d eventually wake up and realize that he was just a dream, because though you hoped, you were sure he was dead.

“You always laugh at my jokes, what’s with you today?”

“Pinch me.”

“What?” Johnny looked at you as if you had lost your mind. But who knew, maybe you did.

“Pinch me.”

“Babe- This is pretty public-”

“On my face.”

“Ah, alright I guess.” Two of his fingers pressed at your skin, signaling your brain through the nerves that indeed, you were awake, and Johnny was very much alive. Even more! Standing in front of you!

“Why would you scare me like that?”

“You asked me to pinch you-”

“No, I meant the letters! You didn’t answer!”

“You see, it was the element of surprise.”

“You and your surprises!” You mumbled against his skin, now returning the embrace with newfound strength. “I thought you were dead.”

Johnny calmed under your tight grip, mumbling sorry’s back to you. It was as if you were writing new letters, now on each other’s skin with whispers and few happy tears. Your hands crawled around his silhouette, forming a picture before you could take a good look at him. To be honest, the picture didn’t matter, just the fact of him being with you.

TAEYONG

It took you a few weeks, but eventually you got used to the woman’s chatter. She’d tell you about her war theories, what her youngest did when she wasn’t around, what her husband liked to eat for dinner. She needed to talk, and you just nodded every now and then, asked a question when something she said was actually interesting. The polite atmosphere had to be upheld - you were working right next to one another. There was no place for feuds.

“I’ve heard some of the boys are already returning.” The woman told you. She was standing behind as you fixed the threads.

“Sounds too good to be true.” Had the machine turned on a second earlier, you’d have had one finger less. “Shit.”

“Have you got someone returning? I hope they let my oldest out.” She made no comment regarding the almost-an-accident. After all, it was just another day at the factory - things happened. Someone in a row in front of yours has even lost a leg. But that was just an unpleasant memory at this point.

“Yeah, I do have someone.”

She kept insisting on sharing that part of your life with her, but you didn’t know what else to tell her. It’s been months since your last letter from Taeyong. At that point, you were trying to get used to the thought that the news could have been bad. But they’d have told you, wouldn’t they? The possibilities were hard to gulp down, and so you returned to work.

Not long after, a wave of talking disturbed the production hall. You dropped the shears and looked around, trying to catch whatever made everyone so talkative all of sudden. Down the corridor, made in between stations, you caught a glimpse of green, so uncharacteristic for the browns and grays that workers wore. The green moved down, closer to your row. It had a spring to its step, an enthusiasm of a child.

You abandoned the material in another hand, now curious who had the courage to pass the factory’s gates. Silence took over the hall, and echoing steps joined a duet with the machines. It was coming closer and closer, until from behind the ragged material, a face appeared. Big eyes placed on thin features. An excitement written all over bitten lips.

“Taeyong?” Hardly believing it to be him, you didn’t call aloud. The woman you worked next to walked to your side.

“He’s yours?” You didn’t answer, eyes stuck on him only. It was as if you tried to find a reason not to believe in his existence. A flaw that would tell you it was all just a hallucination. It made no sense for him to be there - neither the place, nor the timing was right.

When he met your gaze, it was as if someone turned the lights on. Everything became clear. His cheeks spread under the weight of a smile. The spring turned into a run, and soon enough, your limp body was locked by a key to it all - Taeyong.

“You’re back.” You stated the obvious. Taeyong pulled away to look at your bewildered face. A shadow of doubt clouded his forehead, as if your disapproval was a possibility. “Oh fuck, you’re back.”

He didn’t answer, there was no time for him to do so. As soon as you swore, you pulled him back to you. The hollowness he left filled once again. This time, hopefully, for good.

YUTA

“Have you seen him?” A friend asked you. Reading through a wrinkled newspaper, you almost didn’t catch their words. But the question’s sense was enough to bring your heartbeat to speed up.

“Seen who?”

“Oh, come on!” They grabbed the paper straight out of your hands to hide it behind their back. “You know I’m talking about Yuta. Everybody knows about the two of you!”

That’s a story from two years before, when the man mentioned was just a neighborhood’s troublemaker and no soldier. And it’s not like there was any depth to you and Yuta. He has clearly shown it by the lack of communication you’ve suffered. Yes, there was never a label put on the you two, so distancing yourself from the mess would’ve been a logical thing to do. But somehow, as the time passed, you felt longing. You missed his teasing, dirty jokes, flirty smile, and just the sight of that beautiful face of his.

“And what exactly do they know about the two of us?” The friend opened their mouth. “There’s nothing to know, because we’re nothing.”

“So, like you didn’t send each other steamy love letters or something?”

The question made you laugh, partially because of the bluntness, partially out of bitterness. No letters. No communication. Nothing. You didn’t even know he came back.

“No? Search my drawers if you want to. There’s not a single thing with Yuta written on it.”

“Oh, come on!” You turned to play with the fountain’s cold water. Despite the gloomy aftermath of the war and a busy everyday, you’ve found some time to celebrate the Summer. “(y/n)-”

You hummed at them to continue, but no words came out. Irritated by their silence, despite the clear sign for continuation, you looked up to see them staring at the space behind you.

A pair of hands landed on your shoulders, joined by a scream meant to scare you. Surprised (alright, terrified), you were quick to turn around. The person responsible was none other, but Yuta himself. So he really was back.

His wide smile shone next to the Sun, a welcoming gift he offered you. One of his hands remained on your shoulder, as if it was completely okay to touch an almost-stranger like that.

“Look who’s that.” Yuta turned to the side, his smile turning cold at your friend. His head motioned for them to leave. They were quicker than your reaching hand - abandoned you alone with the man as if that was okay. Yuta sat down next to you on the fountain’s edge. “My favorite neighbor.”

“Oh, am I? Do you even know my name?” But he didn’t grow annoyed at your tone. If anything, your words have made him even happier.

“So you did miss me!”

“Why would I miss you?”

“Because I’m me and you’re crazy in love with this guy.” There he motioned at himself. “

“We’re not even friends, so relax. Welcome home, or whatever.”

Yuta was watching as you stood up and walked away. As far away from him as possible. That meant few meters, until he caught up to you and pulled you through the bushes to a small private space. Somewhere you’ve used to meet. His arms circled around your waist, but you didn’t stop him.

“Don’t be mad now. I needed to see whether you’d miss me.” “I mean two years is enough to get over someone.” “And did you?” “Hm? “Did you get over me?”

You had no answer to that. Because yes, you still felt it. Your silence was enough for Yuta. His grip tightened and he pulled you closer to his face.

“It’s alright. I didn’t get over you either.”

DOYOUNG

After a couple of days of constant rainfall, you’ve forgotten what a sunny day looked like. The gray sky has loomed over your head as if in sync with your anxious thoughts. A companion to your walks in the mornings and evenings. At least it has somehow made you less alone. If you were sad, then the world was too.

The Sun’s return felt like a promise. Things were going to be okay. Eventually, hopefully. Its rays woke you up and walked you home, a substitute companion. It has taken over the gray sky’s role, but did better. The blinding sunlight was drawing a smile on your face with its warmth. It carried your body in a light step, made it take up a longer route home.The world seemed much more enjoyable than it really was.

The house you’ve lived in stood in its place. The white wall now slightly yellow, while the light bounced off of the windows. It felt like a proper home. Like it’d shield you from the doubts and wrongs of real life.

Stepping inside, you caught the sound of your grandmother’s voice. She didn’t tell you about a guest, did she? You were in no state to appear in front of others. Your shirt had a dry oil stain on it.

“Oh, it must be (y/n)!” She sounded excited. “Where have you been for so long?!” 

Her voice was floating from the dining room, and so you headed towards it, right after taking off a bit too tight pair of shoes. There was no escaping now that she heard you making a ruckus in the hallway. The guest would have to deal with your tragic state.

“At work! Where else-”

There, in front of the old woman, was a male silhouette. A thin and tall person with wide shoulders. His shoes were black and tatty on the tips. Trousers were somehow too long, so their dirty ends pooled behind his heels. The jacket could use some proper ironing, but it didn’t matter because your eyes reached where the collar made space for the neck. A pointy chin, opened lips, hollow cheeks, the tip of a nose and finally, the dark eyes.

A long year has passed since the last time you’ve heard him say your name. It was hoarse, filled with disbelief and quiet. Nevertheless you could hear him well.

“Doyoung?” He closed the distance, never looking away from you.

His arms have always been strong, but now you could feel more muscles than fat. His cheeks, although always slender, were now sunken, dark. He smelled of sweat - his favorite cologne nowhere to be found. Hugging him didn’t feel the same to what you were used to, but you were more than ready to make new customs.

“Why didn’t you let me know you were coming back?” He leaned back, so you could look at one another.

One of hands let go to wipe a smudge of oil off your cheek.

“It was meant to be a surprise.”

“You big old goof.” He faked a frown. Faked, because his wide smile couldn’t be hidden.

JAEHYUN

Hugging yourself tightly, you scanned the crowd in search of the promised land, or at least the one Jaehyun has told you about before he was shipped off to fight for the country.

From all you remembered, it had dark eyes, a handsome face and strong arms. The rest was an unknown you were willing to find out, had it been the same as you’ve seen it last, or different, as an effect of its stay. Frankly, you didn’t care how much he has changed - you just wanted him back.

Someone ran past you, screaming incoherently. The motion of a person moving so close made you take a step back, straight into a stranger’s chest. Or maybe not a stranger’s.

“Sor- Jaehyun!” He laughed, proud of his little prank. “How long have you been standing here?”

“For quite some time? I was waiting until you’d realize.”

There was a desire to punch him in the shoulder, but you busied your hands with embracing him instead. It was even better than getting an offended yelp out of him. Although you’ve been crying over how little you remember of his hugs, having him in your hold again made every fact came back. The way he liked your hands the best. How long he needed the embraces to last. Where his nose needed to hide, before he could sigh happily.

Jaehyun promised you a land you were looking forward to, but knew all about.

The only surprise was a weird texture of his skin at the back of his neck. One of your fingers played with it when the man in your hold shivered. The time for welcoming embraces ended.

“What was that?”

“Ah, nothing.”  Jaehyun looked to the side, but as soon as he realized that it was like showing you the place he didn’t want to uncover, he put his arm there.

None of his tactics worked. The redness of burns ended at his jawline. You could see it clear as day.

“Don’t be weird about it. I can see your scars.”

Jaheyun groaned in frustration, changing sides so you couldn’t see a thing. He stood in stubborn silence, waiting for the end of whatever he thought needed to end. Nobody spoke for some time, until you couldn’t hold it in any longer and asked “Are you that ashamed of them?”.

“Am I still handsome with them?” His question was a laughing matter. How could a scar make him any less beautiful? “What are you laughing at?”

“Haven’t you heard that scars are considered very attractive?”

Jaehyun looked back at you. The arm he was using to hide his neck dropped to the side, and he seized your body questioningly, as if there was an answer to all the things that bothered him. Well- who knows? Maybe there was?

“Are they? I thought that was just a myth, you know, to make people feel better.”

You smiled teasingly, looping fingers at the edges of his belt.

“Well, I would most certainly disagree with that being a myth.”

He nodded, considering your words. At a silent question of your raised eyebrow, Jaehyun exhaled, grabbed one of your hands, and pulled you towards the station’s exit.

WINWIN

Sicheng stood in his bedroom with an expression one could only call unreadable. He felt weird without his uniform, regular trousers and shirt irritating his tormented body. They should be his solace, solid ground to stomp on with the war behind him. And yet the material was an unwelcome texture that covered the visible marks of his maturity. He wasn’t a boy anymore, like his room presented - with its childish wallpaper and a small collection of toys placed neatly on the shelf. Sicheng was a man raised by the military. If there had been something he was the best at, it would be shooting and carrying out the orders.

That’s partially why he was wary of coming face to face with his old life. Realizing how twisted he had to be now in comparison to his younger self was something he wanted to avoid. Of course, he failed the task as sentiment took over him as soon as he saw his plastic horses on shelves. But the picture he was now looking at, tucked in the frame of the big mirror, was even more overwhelming. He didn’t remember why it stayed at home instead of being in his pockets through it all. The nervousness of leaving must’ve  made him forget about it.

After a longer moment of hesitation, his hand abandoned the safety of his thigh to grab the photograph and look at it from a smaller distance. Slick paper was aging quickly, but Sicheng couldn’t find it in himself to curse whoever did such a poor job for the large amount of money he had to pay. You were smiling fondly at him from the picture, and he imagined you doing the same once he would see you. Sadly, doubt had a strange habit of returning to him so often these past few years that the dreams of your grin quickly turned into ones blurred by his own tears. What could await him by your side?

Both excitement and dread pushed him to leave his house behind and ride a bus to find out how disturbing the reality was. Many things stayed the same, like the raw walls of your flat’s corridor or the depth of your neighbor’s wrinkles. Only little things changed and yet they were difficult to spot.

In front of the old doors he had second thoughts and was close to turning around. As soon as he did that, his usually steady hands let go of the bouquet of flowers, and he made too much noise gathering them together.

The entrance behind him was opening in sync with his legs straightening, so when he stood up, your eyes were already watching his. In all honesty, he expected you to look alien, as if it was the first time he has ever seen you. But it was completely different. You were familiar in every possible aspect of existing. The changes were like in your surroundings - little, invisible to someone that didn’t know you as well as Sicheng did. The man in front of you could instantly point out the difference in your hair’s length, a new scar decorating your face, how thin you’ve become thanks to the harsh years of war... All of these brought him both sadness and happiness. Sadness, because you were affected and happiness, because the memory that kept him sane at night was identical to the reality.

He was so lost in the sight of you, he didn’t even notice how strange he looked to you, although your face was an open book just for him to read. Maybe if he had noticed, he would lose all of his courage and eventually escape the daunting atmosphere.

“Hey.” He managed to say in the softest of tones that remained the same even after the war. His hand gripping the ruined bouquet of flowers shot in your direction to offer the small gift. “It’s been a while.”

His words sounded so dumb to you, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to hold the laughter back. Not at them, but rather from happiness you felt. Sicheng smiled shyly when your fingers skimmed his meanwhile taking the flowers. One could say that you were magnets - naturally pulling towards one another after just a simple exchange of touches.

In your embrace, he didn’t think about the doubt, he thought about you. Just you in general. Happy, teary-eyed, with harsh hands and soft kisses, in your lowest low but on the cloud nine as soon as he returned into the picture. How could he feel doubt when your salty lips were endlessly smooching his dimples?

JUNGWOO

Your first thought seeing the boy you used to know, was just a confirmation that somehow you’ve lost any certainty about him. 

Kim Jungwoo has changed in almost every possible aspect. There were shadows of wrinkles on his forehead. Hair that he used to wear long was still short from the army. Cheeks, usually full and pushed to the sides by a genuine smile, were now thin and falling in on themselves. Lips looked pale. Though you couldn’t see their texture, you knew they had to be dry. Only his eyes remained somehow similar as they held the last bits of innocence. Brown orbs were swinging between focus and the lack of it, easily getting distracted by the simplest things. Jungwoo’s body language was similar - he would either attempt the bad-boy-leaning-against-a-counter pose or catch himself returning to standing straight as his head turned to look at something. Two men that he was with were bent over their drinks, talking to one another without paying too much attention to their third companion.

“Is this really Kim Jungwoo?” A friend spilled her blond locks on the table as she positioned herself to take a better look at the young man in question. “My my, hasn’t he changed a lot?” 

Her wide eyes turned to yours. The message she was trying to send you wasn’t clear. What did she expect you to say in return?

“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m a little surprised too.”

“A little? You’ve been basically drooling for at least ten minutes now.” Blonde slapped your arm teasingly. “But hey, not judging. Little Jungwoo sure turned into a dreamboat.”

Embarrassed by her words, you turned your head away. You were unwilling to admit she was right. Because yes, the innocent boy that has always been incredibly shy, changed into an attractive man with confidence radiating off of his body. You couldn’t accept the change both in him and the way your own eyes were yearning to look at his features.

When his eyes met yours, you froze in the seat, a sheepish smile turning into a straight line. Jungwoo didn’t wait. A wide smile blossomed on his face, and he instantly walked over.

Without anything else to do, your gaze landed on Jungwoo’s on. He must have been as shocked as you by the chance meeting. His lips were parted and thick eyebrows have risen high up. None of them overshadowed an evident smile.

“Jungwoo!” Your friend sang from the spot next to you.

The young man spared her a single glance as he welcomed her, but quickly returned to stare at your face. You could feel the knowing gaze your friend was giving you. After few awkward seconds of some sort of a staring contest, she elbowed you to do something.

“Maybe you should go and catch up?” The girl offered with clenched teeth.

Startled, you finally pushed yourself up and out of the crowded booth to stand next to Jungwoo. Slightly intimidated by his bold gaze, you asked “Want to go for a walk?”

The laughter he answered with was bold and confident, but Kim Jungwoo wasted no time in offering you his arm.

“Happily.”

MARK

The first thing his sleepy features did, was frown. The headache was painful, but seconds later it left, as he remained frozen in place. You wouldn’t have noticed, had it been not for your position. His face was in your peripheral vision, just above the book you were reading.

It came out of nowhere. Nobody knew when he’d wake up. All you had to do was wait, because he could breathe. As a very tired doctor has repeated to you every day - time was the best remedy. And so you waited. The fact that he finally woke up? You didn’t believe it. Frozen in place, unsure whether to stay or call for a nurse, you waited. If the time was the best remedy, then it had to be the best judge as well.

Mark’s eyelashes fluttered before he allowed the world inside. As soon as he did, he closed them as well. On and off again, he blinked rapidly, trying to get used to the light. The book closed in your hands. His nose scrunched. Fingers straightened at his sides. An inaudible voice told you to reach for them, but you gripped the book tighter instead.

“Is he waking up?” You looked back at one of the five men that were all locked inside the hospital’s room. His left arm was gone, but it didn’t stop him from looking positively at the world. Every then and now he’d busy you with a small talk, and you’ve grown sympathetic towards him.

“Yes.” Upon turning back towards Mark, his dark eyes met yours. His face didn’t change an expression, but you knew he recognized you. Something about the sparks in his eyes that every author loved to bring up.

A small smile of relief blossomed on your features. The spreading warmth told you - it’s going to be alright now. If Mark had woken up, then he had been on the road to fast recovery.

“Hi.” You knelt down by the side of his bed. The corner of a nightstand pressed painfully at your body, but you wanted to be as close to Mark as possible.

Still sleepy, with eyes half-closed, he smiled back. His hand moved a little in your direction, but it was too weak to reach it. Not the one to deny him, you beat the distance yourself, transporting his hand to your face. It felt cold against your cheek.

“Hi.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Hmm-” a yawn blocked him for a moment. “Tired.” His voice was hoarse, as expected from someone who has slept for almost a week.

“That’s alright. You’ve been out of it for quite some time-”

“Have I? How long?”

“Six days.”

“Ouch.”

His reaction made you giggle quietly, and his small frown was quickly replaced by another smile. You couldn’t stop yourself from placing a comforting kiss on his forehead. Mark watched you silently, his eyes still glossy.

“I should go and call the nurse. They need to give you a good check, now that you’re awake.”

“You’re going?” He looked as if you have kicked his puppy. Fingers attempted to lock around your hand, but it was fruitless. Mark was weak, and he couldn’t even hold a limb up.

“I’ll be right back.” Before he could say anything more, you left. Although aware that nothing felt real, you didn’t want to start the topic of war. The time would come. For now, you’d like to act as if it has never happened.  

HAECHAN

The concrete blocks felt hot under the palms of your hands. Compared to the pleasant warmth seeping through your trousers, the firsthand contact felt like touching lava. You wouldn’t have known, but you could only guess it had to be as painful.

The radio speaker has been repeating all day, like a mantra, the weather was a gift at the end of the war. You didn’t feel like the hotness was any sort of a gift, though you haven’t decided yet, whether you loved it or not. The last year was nothing, but a series of undecided opinions. Lonely, watching as your entire neighborhood disappeared, you felt like the whole world has died. Now, all that remained just broken shells of tortured souls.

You remembered the past. The games of hide and seek, limited only by the crossroads at the ends of your street. Stolen cigarettes smoked behind the closest factory. Rumors repeated every time you saw someone, because there was not much happening in the lives of teenagers stuck in their little world.

The noise of an engine filled the street’s void. A woman hanging laundry on a balcony on the other side of the street, looked down to search for its source. Your head turned too, but the hotness bouncing off of the asphalt made it impossible for you to make the features out. Only one thing was sure - a car was coming your way. You didn’t want to stand up for nothing, so you placed hands on your feet as if to nail them to the ground.

“Where is the orchestra? Where are the balloons?”

It couldn’t be- could it? He had to be a mirage. The last time you saw Lee Donghyuck was a year ago, when he sneaked into your bedroom in the middle of the night. The next morning he was supposed to leave for the war, so he decided to kiss you goodbye. One small kiss that tasted of cigarettes was all you remembered him for. And his striped pajamas. A stark contrast to his current green uniform.

The man jumped off the car’s back and waved at the driver to go. The other man honked before pressing the accelerator on.

“You won’t even stand up to welcome me?” His words made you push yourself up.

For some reason, although he stood in front of you, real, he didn’t feel right. There had to be a hook, a switch that would make him fade away into oblivion once the wrong motion was made. You wanted to believe in him, but the loneliness you experienced has left a mark on your mind.

“What’s up with you?” He took your sunglasses off. “Oh, you’re so happy to see me, I left you speechless, right?” A brilliant and cocky smile lightened up his features.

Stuck in a loop of opening and closing your mouth, because you had so much and, simultaneously, so little to say, you never answered. Instead, your eyes wandered around his face, taking in all the signs of change that the past months have left on him.

Donghyuck was missing an ear. Where your eyes were used to seeing a shell-like organ, there was nothing. Your fingers reached for the empty spot and rubbed at the still delicate skin.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Although he tried to sound brave, you caught the glimpse of uncertainty in his voice.

He has rarely shown insecurity, so the idea of experiencing that new part of his- Perhaps the whole idea of being able to experience him, made you finally smile.

“It’s super cool.”

“Yeah, I know. Captain said I will be getting a medal for my service.”

Laughing to yourself, because that was such a dumb thing to worry about in the present moment, you embraced Donghyuck’s frame. He returned it instantly, locking his arms so tightly around you, it hurt. But- You know what? There was no but. You accepted the embrace laughing.

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios

[frickyea-guacamole19]

Also, just to add: Leaving them alone implies that the royal family cares about what others say. I doubt that. And I highly doubt the royal family uses tumblr.

Thank you for making it clear in your previous ask that your distain was not directed at me. I appreciate it. And the same goes for you. I’m just mourning the loss of a leader and I apologize if my comments or any part of my response comes off as harsh or biting. I also apologize if I’ve misquoted anything from the New York Times in my response. I’m just writing this response to explain why I do not view the late Prince Philip as evil or the Royal Family as uncaring. And, for clarification, I never said Prince Philip’s death was shocking. He was 99, and has been hospitalized on multiple occasions in recent years. Of course it was expected, you’re absolutely right.

In addition, as far as the references to his life are concerned, please feel free to refer to the article on Prince Phillip’s death, published by the New York Times. The history channel also published an interesting piece on his involvement in the Invasion of Sicily. They were truly very informative. Before I read it the other day, I was also one of those people who wrote Prince Philip off as a bad person.

I completely agree with your points, save calling the late Prince Philip evil. As a child he was smuggled out of Greece in a fruit crate during the Turkish attacks on Greece. He lived in poverty, having to keep his identity a secret for years, keeping in mind he was in line for the thrown in Greece and came from the Royal Danish bloodline.

Throughout his youth, he was sent to various schools across Europe. And while most royal children were home school, the schools he was sent to were to harden him. You can fact check me on this but at the schools he was given a bed with no mattress of any kind (if you’ve slept on hardwood alone for even one night, imagine doing it for an entire school year at boarding school), and the only kinds of showers he had access to were cold. In his five years at a particular school of which I do not remember the name, his family never came to visit him. They just dropped him there. I can’t imagine how difficult not seeing your loved ones for five years must’ve been.

As he grew older, he chose to take part in World War II. He was the outstanding cadet in his class at Dartmouth and fought on several ships including the USS Missouri, the battleship that was the final stone cast leading to the Japanese surrender in World War II.

Prince Philip spent a lot of his time and resources having playing fields and other amenities built for impoverished youth in Britain and always put his wife first. Even though she was descended from Queen Elizabeth and Victoria, he still was in a position where he could have taken power from her and claimed responsibility for changes she made, but he didn’t.

The late Prince was also the reason for success in the allied invasion of Sicily during World War II which, at the time, was overrun by Germans. He was the one who identified their Italian ships in the dark.

Moreover, when it came to Buckingham Palace, he modernized it. He was the reason intercom‘s were installed at Buckingham, so they weren’t running messengers ragged to the bone day in and day out. He had a kitchen installed in the Royal Suite and bought a washing machine, encouraging his children to partake in normal activities such as cooking for themselves, doing their own laundry, etc. Prince Philip was always seen opening his own doors, carrying his own luggage, and doing other day-to-day mundane activities himself.

I am unsure to what you are referring when you call him “evil“. But doesn’t everyone in their lifetime say it and do things that are neither respectable nor kind? Obviously there is record of him being unkind or too brash with his words. For some people, that is just their personality. And yes, it is rude and harsh, but there’s always room for forgiveness. And look at all the good he did. 

There were problems in his marriage early on, yes. But he remained loyal to Queen Elizabeth II for all 73 years of marriage. He sent prince Charles and maybe prince Andrew, if I remember correctly, to the same schools that he attended. He subjected them to those environments so they wouldn’t become comfortable with having everything handed to them on a Silver Platter. So that they learned to work for themselves and not take advantage of the prerogative of status. He wanted his children to remain grounded and self-sufficient. Though none of them wrote their own speeches, as he did.

All of us as humans are products of our circumstances. It’s really a miracle that he didn’t become harsher or colder as a father, considering what he went through. 

Now, to address leaving Buckingham palace alone. The Royals are celebrities. This means that most likely they have managers for certain aspects of their lives. People to control what exposure is given/received. I would certainly be shocked if the Royal Family didn’t have employees who kept eyes on every social media platform for content regarding them. regardless of whether or not they are actually used by members of the Royal Family. This includes Tumblr. Every upper level celebrity has people to do that for them. It’s how rumors and scandals are handled in modern media. With grace from those receiving the backlash, with the help of mediators and the like. So the odds of the Royal Family or someone working for them seeing these comments and remarks about the late Prince Philip are high.

Also, at the most basic level, someone has died. A man well loved by a good part of his country, a husband, a father, a grandfather, a friend. It is out of place and rude to assume the Royal Family doesn’t feel anything. We are all human. And, whether we like it or not, it doesn’t feel good when people have things to say about us that aren’t good or kind. Goo Hara and Sulli were both incredible women who committed suicide, overwhelmed by the hatred and criticism they received from the media and thousands of people every day.

Hatred is pointless. It’s not fair to say that someone who you perceive as mean or evil is impervious to unkind words. Never judge a book by its cover. The royal family appears standoffish and cold on occasions because of the image that is portrayed. But that is only what people are allowed to see. We are all human and it is unfair to say that the royal family doesn’t care about the comments based off of what you see of them. There is no one on earth who’s ever lost a loved one and not been deeply wounded by that loss.

Prince Philip was a good man. He had his downfalls, like any other human word. We can’t extrapolate those moments of unkindness over someone’s entire character. If we did that, no one would have any friends and we’d all be perceived as evil. On that same token, it is equally as unhealthy to deify anyone, or perceive them as perfect or without flaw. I’m sure there are things that Prince Philip has said and done that I have not heard of that are less than savory, unkind, mean, and any other negative adjective you’d like to use. regardless, again, at the most basic level, someone has died. It’s disgusting and repulsive to be so mocking of someone’s death.

A man just died. Let’s show some human decency and respect, please.