#just talking about future plans after these direct attacks slow down

[beepmeepmeepbeep]

the eu is beyond fucking annoying

[lambsouvlaki]

For the Hell of it - 2 - Normal People Behaviour

Character: Jason Todd x civilian!Fem!oc

Rating and Warnings: G, no warnings

Word Count: 1,249

Summary: Jason runs into her at the university library, and gathers the courage to talk to her. The two nerds talk about nerd shit.

Masterlist

--------

The second time was also a coincidence. 

Jason walked through the library of Gotham U after meeting a contact on the grounds. Cutting through the grand stone building was faster than going around, and he enjoyed the stroll to boot. The little cafe on the ground floor was quiet at this hour, while the murmur of semi-panic normal for students at this time of year lingered around the shelves and study rooms. Golden afternoon light streamed through the high windows and danced over the stone floors. 

Sometimes he resented this place. The future that had been robbed of him. Today wasn’t one of those days, and he could appreciate it for what it was, with only a hint of nostalgia for a lost dream. 

A familiar head of hair caught his eye, sitting at a cafe table. 

Andy. 

He slowed his walk, then halted as though he was looking at the daily menu. 

She had her back to him, alone at a high table in the centre of the cafe. Her messenger bag was slung over the back of the chair, a book and a laptop with its screen dark in front of her. She twisted herself around in the chair to stretch out her back without taking her focus from the book. 

Her major was French literature as he recalled, with a minor in… classic English lit? Early modern literature? Something like that. She was the same age as him, twenty three, and out of place in classes full of eighteen year olds. It was something that had caught his attention when he’d met her in the helmet. As a teenager with no opportunities she missed the window, but now her life was in her own hands she was seizing it with both hands. 

It reminded him of Cass. He was happy for her. 

He wondered what she was reading. If he stood at the right spot one floor up he would be able to look down through his phone camera’s zoom and figure it out from what the words on the page. 

He stopped himself before he could take a step in the direction of the elevator. That was reaching Bruce levels of invasive. 

He strictly reminded himself not to be weird about this. Maybe he could just… go talk to her? That was normal person behaviour.

Bruce never would, so it couldn’t be that bad an idea. 

She didn’t know him outside of the mask. Chances were she wouldn’t recognise him from that day on the train weeks ago, and he looked even more like a stalker if she did.

He had no excuse to talk to her. The Red Hood’s obligation to her was finished. He didn’t have a functioning civilian identity, Jason Todd was still dead as far as the world was concerned, and he did not talk to people unnecessarily as a rule. But he wanted to. He didn’t need an excuse. She was pretty, they had things in common, that was it. It didn’t have to be a whole production. 

Mind made up, he approached. He assessed their surroundings further enroute, noting her empty coffee cup and amending his plan of attack.

She looked up when his shadow crossed her table. Her eyes narrowed for a moment at him, then she smiled. 

“Hey,” he said. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Her eyebrows rose and she leaned back in her chair, a slight flush of colour in her cheeks. Her smile turned considering and she studied him for a moment. There weren’t that many other students in cargo pants and combat boots in the Arts library. His hoodie covered all the scars on his arms but didn’t do much for the discolouration of his knuckles. He looked down at the table, and caught the name of her book. Voltaire’s Candide.

“Maybe we can talk about 18th century French philosophers,” he said, and then desperately wished he hadn’t.

“Really?” she asked, a sceptical eyebrow raised.

“I’ve never read Voltaire but I’ve had a look at Rousseau. Same era, right?”

“Yeah, both enlightenment, and formative for the French Revolution.” She smiled at him, and leaned forward, her chin propped up on one knuckle. “I’ll be honest, that is not the swing I thought you were going to take.”

“Judging a book by its cover, huh?” he asked, the corner of his lip pulling up.

“Serves me right for making assumptions.” She darted a quick look at him and away again, hiding a smile. “That seat’s free, by the way.”

He took the opening, hiding his own smile. A waiter came over and took their orders.

“So, is that assigned reading?” he asked, when they were alone again.

“It’s for an essay. Satirical political texts from the early 1700s and its social impact.” She winced and rubbed her forehead. “I am sorely regretting not doing Jonathan Swift's A Modest Proposal.”

“Why’d you choose this one?” He leaned forward, resting his crossed arms on the table.

“I prefer Candide as a text. Nobody is reading A Modest Proposal for a good time. Well, hopefully not anyway. But actually breaking down Voltaire is agonising: my draft is a catastrophe.”

“If you’re still at the draft stage, it’s not too late to change.”

“And let Voltaire win?”

He barked a laugh. She grinned. 

“So. Rousseau hm?” She asked. “Was that for a class?”

“Na, I was just curious. A friend-” it felt strange to call Alfred a friend but he wasn’t going to say ‘my butler’ out loud, “-recommended The Social Contract a few years back. I’d argue with about half of it, but it was an interesting read.”

“Which parts did you disagree with? And why?” she asked. 

He hesitated a moment, but she waited with open interest. It had been a long time since anyone had discussed this kind of philosophy with him and actually wanted to hear his opinion. It probably helped that she didn’t have a laundry list of crimes to hold against him, but he couldn’t help but enjoy it. 

They talked for hours. The conversation drifted across topics, and he found himself laughing at her anecdotes. She spoke with her hands when she felt passionate about something and almost knocked their water glasses over. While she was still the reserves and self-possessed woman he’d met in a crisis, she was so much bolder and free now. 

“You didn’t tell me your name,” she said, looking down at her phone. 

The cafe was starting to close and the staff had pointedly taken all their cups away.

He could have given her an alias. Probably should have. But he didn’t want to.

“Jason,” he said. 

She hummed, and then slid her phone to him over the table. It was on a New Contact screen, with the cursor flashing at the empty phone number field, labelled Jason.

She smiled, expectant and without shame. This woman. He grinned and gave her his number. 

She got up to go, and he remembered something awkwardly late. 

“You didn’t tell me your name either,” he said. 

“I’ll text it to you!” she called as she left, starting to rush to catch her train. Feeling very good about himself he strolled back through the bookshelves, inspired to pick up something. 

His phone buzzed about five minutes later. 

‘This is Andrea, but you can call me Andy,’ the message read.

His phone buzzed again. The most absurd and niche enlightenment philosophy meme filled the screen and he burst out laughing in the middle of the library. 

Next >>

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Andrew “Laurie” Laurent Species: Hunter (Ranger) Occupation: “Zookeeper” at the Grit Pit Age: 32 Years Old Played By: Beth Face Claim: Michael B. Jordan

"In the woods or behind bars – I’m cleaning up the same mess either way."

TW: Cancer tw

Andrew killed his first monster at twelve years old. It was a flederprey while under direction at a training camp, and his parents celebrated it when he got home. The youngest of three, Andrew’s achievement was viewed as the first step of an unstoppable future. In the early days, that seemed primed to be true, although when his older brother Joseph eloped with another hunter at twenty-three, no one else seemed as betrayed by it besides fifteen-year-old Andrew. The plan for a trio became a duo, and the two siblings trained up for adulthood and the path in front of them. Andrew became as good at reading his sister Carrie’s mind until she too wanted to start a family. Working on his own wasn’t easy, but Laurie–as he’d been known at camp as a teen and soon became known professionally–got used to it, teaming up when he needed to with friends, cousins, and anyone else he needed to. He became the fun uncle to his siblings’ five collective children, even if he didn’t see them as often as he wanted. Laurie felt his twenties weighing on him and wondered on occasion if he was getting slow, but everything always seemed to work out. That was how life worked.

Death was also how life worked in a family of hunters. Maybe the Laurent family had gotten weak and complacent in their luck. Cancer took their mother and a heart attack ended their father’s life not long after. They hadn’t faced brutality in a generation. They hadn’t been prepared to lose Joseph and his thirteen-year-old daughter in one disastrous hunter trip meant to help train her up. Laurie  should have been there to support the rest of his family, but he threw himself into his work, going after creatures with reckless abandon like it would bring his family back. It didn’t.

Within the year, Laurie had exhausted himself and felt driven to the brink of something. He couldn’t do this anymore, but he couldn’t walk away either. That wasn’t how this worked. In his drifting, he ended up in Wicked’s Rest. A known hotbed for the supernatural, he figured he’d find a little work and keep going. Instead he found The Grit Pit. The work wasn’t quite what Laurie had expected. Tending to creatures and helping keep them fed and alive wasn’t something he’d ever thought possible for himself, but the money was good. It was nice to have a place to land, a steady source of income, and a job where he didn’t have to wonder what would happen if he messed up. His own life was really the only thing at risk, given that everything here had to have an expiration date in the pit anyway. The close proximity to more sentient creatures had felt rather distasteful, but Laurie tried to think of them like simply smarter versions of the beasts who couldn’t talk. 

Generally he tries not to think about any of it too. Laurie’s not looking for a new life philosophy, just a change of pace. For the last two years, he’s found it.

Character Facts:

Personality: Proactive, hardworking, firm, cocky, obtuse

While he’s never been the type to turn down a job, Laurie has always favored going after beasts over the more sentient creatures out there. Sirens can be so tricky, and werewolves require such careful planning. Things that think in simpler terms were always easier to handle on his own. It’s made his job now that much easier of a transition because he understands the nuance of those creatures that can’t communicate their needs, even if he’s had to figure them out from a new angle. If anything, it’s the proximity to shapeshifters and other sentients that’s something Laurie has needed to get used to.

Every creature requires a unique toolkit, and Laurie’s always preferred to be prepared for anything. In addition to a kit of tools he kept in the car until needed, Laurie always used to carry a gun and two knives (one silver, one iron) on himself at all times. Habits die hard, and that’s still true, even if theoretically the creatures will stay on the other side of the bars. He’s had to get up close and personal too often to believe he doesn’t need them.

Laurie has only killed one creature at the Grit Pit. Afraid he was going to lose his leg when a hellhound managed to bite him and wouldn’t let go, Laurie lashed out with practiced ease and killed it. The conversation had afterwards made it very clear that if Laurie acted so “foolishly” again, a leg would become the least of his concerns.

He still favors his left leg when he runs thanks to that hellhound encounter.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Merlin accidentally becomes Legolas/Katniss/Merida… you know the type;

He may be shitty at sword fighting, but Merlin begins to use a traditional bow and arrow and… actually becomes very good at it??

I imagine the first time he does it, it’s a complete fluke.

The five knights, The King, and Merlin are on their way back from yet another (frankly, ridiculous) quest.

They have been, of course, ambushed by a group of bandits, twenty to their six (six plus Merlin, though no one bar Lancelot knows about his magic, so he isn’t counted as a fighter). Though the knights outweigh them in skill, their sheer numbers makes it a… challenging, fight (meaning that they are winning, but far too slowly for their liking, and no one wants to admit it).

Now normally, Merlin hides behind a tree or in a ditch, and performs his spells quietly without being noticed, slowly helping and speeding up the fight. Except this time, the Gang was in the middle of a barren, open field, the bandits had disguised themselves with magic until the moment they attacked, and Merlin was right in the middle of all the action.

Everyone worried for his safety. There was nowhere for him to hide here, so they had to keep an eye on him, lest he get hurt (and Arthur sulked, or kicked off, depending on how badly he was hurt).

With nowhere to hide (and no branches to drop, or roots to trip people with), and one of the knights throwing a glance his way every ten seconds, he couldn’t use his magic.

He was currently on his hands and knees, Leon directly in front of him, Percival to his left, holding off four attackers between them (Merlin would marvel at how impressive that was if he weren’t otherwise preoccupied).

He keeps trying to get to Arthur, crawling between legs and over the groaning, injured bodies of bandits (he made a point to land sharp elbows and harsh knees into the more… sensitive areas), but with everyone moving around so rapidly, and the vicious swinging of swords and axes and maces inches above his head, he kept getting side-tracked and blocked and almost knocked out.

With a frustrated huff, he notices yet another bandit rounding on The King. Said huff turns into a pained gasp when he realises that Arthur hasn’t seen him yet.

The bandit raises his weapon in the air, seconds from bringing it down on Arthur’s back, but Leon is right there, and there are no branches to drop on him, and Arthur still hasn’t noticed!

The noise is too loud, grunts and yells and clashes of metal drowning out any sort of warning yell that Merlin could throw Arthur’s way, and he scrabbles around on the floor desperately; hands raking through sharp grass and over bloodied bodies as he stares in horror at the triumphant smirk on the future-King-killer’s face.

Time seems to slow (no magic, just adrenaline) as Merlin’s hands find purchase on a smooth, curved piece of wood. He picks it up without looking, at first intending to throw whatever it is as hard as he can in the bandits direction, before something (magic, instincts, periphery vision, who knows) tells him to look down.

He obeys, and widens his eyes as he sees the longbow gripped tightly in his right hand, and a stray arrow on the floor next to his left.

Merlin is no expert, only having actually hunted once or twice back home in Ealdor, when he was younger, but that was just enough knowledge for him to know roughly how to notch the arrow and fire. He pulls the two up quickly, a plan formulating in his head:

Step 1) Notch arrow.

Step 2) Close eyes.

Step 3) Magic? Hope?

Step 4) Come up with some sort of lie that explains how he managed to make the shot from sixty yards away, through a crowd.

Thankfully, it would appear that Merlin’s bad luck has given him a rest today; the first three steps go off without a hitch (the fourth will come a little later, when the battle is over), but he doesn’t have time to congratulate himself before he’s thrown into the fray, the bandits now obviously seeing him as some sort of threat.

Arthur finally defeats his own attackers, looking behind him in shock to see his unknown enemy lying on the floor, gurgling up blood and grasping weakly at the arrow through his neck. His head whips to the side, trying to find whoever had made the shot; his bewildered gaze meets Merlin’s for only a second before the servant is dragged to his feet, and promptly punched in the face.

He stumbles back and can just about hear Leon yell something from beside him but he pays it no mind, righting his balance once again and swinging his arm back, before bringing it down harshly on his newest attackers head. The resounding crack echoes over the field as the wood of the longbow splits in two on the bandit’s skull, and he drops like a sack of potatoes.

The fight doesn’t last much longer, each knight taking advantage of their enemies' fatigue, and Merlin using his now broken longbow to whack them in the shins or trip them up when they weren’t paying attention.

He was sad to see it broken, but two of his closest friends literally owned a blacksmith's, and he had easy access to the Castle’s armoury; he could get a hold of another one easily enough, as long as he survived the journey back home.

The battle finally came to a close. Everyone was exhausted, and each of them was sporting more than one hefty bruise, but they were all alive and there were no serious injuries, so they could be grateful for that. After Arthur had counted his men, and generally taken stock of things, he traipsed tiredly over to Merlin, who had abandoned his broken bow in favour of cleaning a still weeping cut on Elyan’s temple.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Merlin.”

The servant ignores him at first, biting his lip in concentration as he carefully wipes the grime away from the wound. It was small, so an infection wouldn’t be too worrying, but it wouldn’t be comfortable and would make the scarring worse, so best to avoid it if at all possible. He hums in satisfaction as he leans back on his heels, Elyan gives him a grateful smile, and Merlin finally throws a glance Arthur’s way, before focusing back on threading the needle in his hands; it would only need two or three stitches, thankfully:

“Hmm. I'm not fond of hunting, but we had to for food back in Ealdor. Except we didn’t have fancy crossbows or hunting dogs, so we had to make do with hand-whittled longbows.”

Arthur nods, frowning slightly:

“Still, if I’d known you were that good, I would’ve demanded you had a bow of your own; that way us lot wouldn’t have to spend so much time making sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

Merlin smirked and quirked an eyebrow, but doesn’t look away from Elyan’s stitches, whispering an apology at the man’s wince before he speaks slowly, concentrating:

“Careful Sire, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

Elyan snorts out a laugh, but Merlin tuts and lightly slaps his leg disapprovingly, and he stills again. Arthur rolls his eyes with a huff:

“As if. Hurry up, I want to get moving as soon as possible.”

~

Arthur wasn’t the only one that noticed Merlin’s outstanding shot, and over the course of the next few day’s journey home, he received a multitude of compliments from the other knights. 

Including an hour long excited infodump about the history and use of longbows from Leon, which Merlin eagerly hung onto every word of, a fond smile on his face (Leon was a noble, and had it practically beaten into him to not ramble, so Merlin always did his best not to discourage the man. That, and the fact that it was actually very interesting, and useful, if he were to keep up this charade that he was an expert marksman).

When Merlin finally had a moment alone with Lancelot, a few days after they had gotten back, he burst:

“Please please tell me you know how to use a longbow??”

Lancelot raises his eyebrow from where he was sat on the bed in Merlin’s room. Merlin was staring at him with unconcealed desperation, and the knight chuckled as he answered:

“Why? It’s not like you need any more training, that was a cracking shot.”

Merlin huffed loudly, running his hands through his hair as he looked back at the knight:

“I used magic!! I closed my eyes so no one would see and I guided the arrow with magic! Now everyone thinks I’m some master marksman! This is bad. What if next time I can’t use magic, or what if someone notices that I have my eyes closed when I fire?”

Lancelot clamps a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to stop himself from giggling, but he gives up quickly, bursting into laughter at the younger man’s panic. Said younger man fumes, sputtering as he picks up one of the knight’s discarded boots and throws it at him:

“It’s not funny, Lance! I’m being serious, this is an actual issue!”

Lancelot calms himself, rubbing the mirth from his eyes as he takes a deep breath:

“Ok ok, sorry. Yes, I can teach you to use a longbow properly. Have you ever actually used one before, or was the hunting thing a cover?”

The red fades from Merlin’s face slightly as he realises the other man is intending to help him, his panic lessening:

“Sort of. Yeah, I went hunting with a bow a couple times, but not enough to be that good at it.”

Lancelot sighs fondly and nods his head:

“Well, that’s a start at least. Come on, I’ve not got patrol until after dinner, and Arthur thinks you’re busy helping Gaius, so we’ve got a few hours.”

~

So I imagine that’s how it goes for a while.

After their last big adventure, Arthur was reluctant to head out as a group again, wanting to give everyone time to recuperate and get back into the swing of things.

Merlin’s skills with a bow were bought up constantly by everyone, news had even reached Gwen (who gave him a proud smile and a cute little dance to congratulate him) and Gaius (who raised an eyebrow, and had much better skill than Lancelot at holding in his laughter). 

Gwaine, Elyan, and even Percival were desperate to set up targets and watch him shoot shit (their words), Leon wanted to talk about the specifics of technique and crafting, and Arthur... well. Arthur sounded like he was taking the piss, but there was something else in his tone that Merlin couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

Affection? Pride?

Probably not, probably jealousy and annoyance that Merlin is so effortlessly good at something that Arthur himself was average at at best.

Merlin manages to avoid it for a while, showing his “skills” off, but he and Lancelot are running out of excuses, and Arthur is starting to accuse him of being a fake who got lucky. Normally, things like that didn’t bother Merlin, and technically Arthur wasn’t wrong... he had got lucky, and cheated with magic, but that wasn’t the point. It was nice for Merlin, to be good at something, really good.

He was good at plenty of other things. Magic for starters, though not even Lancelot knew the full extent of his power in that area. But he cooked well (shown by the fact that the knights always scoffed the lot), he was a good physician (shown by the fact that the knights trusted him just as much as Gaius when it came to treating injuries and sickness), and he was a BRILLIANT servant, if he did say so himself.

But he never got any actual praise for that. Merlin hated to think badly of the knights, his friends, but they only complained when Merlin wasn’t there, never praised him when he was. Well, apart from Lancelot. And that had just started a bunch of rumours that they were... uh... boinking. 

(False. Anyone with more than two braincells could see that Sir Lancelot was head over heals in love with the newly-promoted Housekeeper, Guinevere, and that The King’s Manservant had an affinity for certain a blond prat-King.)

ANYWAY

It was nice for Merlin to have a skill that others thought worth complimenting, and with Lancelot monitoring his practice sessions, correcting any mistakes and offering congratulations whenever he did well, he hoped it wouldn’t be too long before he no longer had to come up with excuses.

Luckily, Merlin picked it up very quickly. 

Despite being clumsy by nature (though Lancelot is starting to suspect more and more that it’s all for show), the dark haired servant can consistently hit bullseyes from fifty yards within a month. The further away from the target he got, the less astounding his aim was, but that was to be expected, and another month later he could successfully hit a moving target from seventy feet.

A training session, around three months after he started properly practicing, he finally “gave in” to Gwaine’s begging. Lancelot helped him set up a bunch of targets, and fetched a bag of apples to throw.

Merlin put on quite the show, grinning at the uproarious applause he got from the knights when he hit every single bullseye, and every single thrown target. Thankfully the knowing, proud smiles between the servant and Sir Lancelot went unnoticed, and even Arthur gave him a clap on the back and an impressed nod.

~

The first time Merlin met the knights in the courtyard to find Leon holding a longbow and quiver of arrows out to him, he panicked slightly, but one reassuring smile from Lancelot boosted his confidence, and he took them with a quiet thank you.

(After the fifth time, Arthur huffed, and told him to just keep them. He was the only one that regularly signed them out of the armoury anyway, so it would just be easier if he just took possession of them.)

It settled everyone’s stomachs, knowing that not only did the group have a master marksmen, hiding in the trees and taking out enemies that they didn’t see coming, but that Merlin personally now had more than his frankly horrifying (or... horrifying as far as they were concerned) stealth skills to keep him safe.

And that (a master marksmen in the trees) is exactly what happened. 

In the early days, it involved a lot of bruises; Merlin could fire well, but firing and balancing at the same time? Took some getting used to, and involved a lot of falling out of trees at inopportune times.

The knights, Gwaine and Arthur especially, laughed endlessly at that, but quickly stopped after a particularly tired and irate and bruised Merlin fired an arrow so close by Gwaine’s crotch, that it stuck his trousers fast into the tree just behind him.

At first, it was meant to be just as back-up; Merlin was no knight. He still refused to wear armour, and Arthur didn’t want his manservant to make himself a target... at least that was his excuse.

Really, it was because (as far as Arthur was aware) Merlin had never deliberately killed before. Even now, years into his Kingship, and even longer into his knighthood, Arthur hated killing; it made him sick, and took a lot of practice at compartmentalization before it no longer bothered him as much.

Merlin was his manservant, his (best) friend, the love of his life (secretly). He was not a warrior, he was not meant to kill, he was meant to be protected from that.

But alas, Merlin did not get the memo, and the first patrol he went on with his bow and quiver slung over his shoulder, he killed at least five bandits.

After the fight, it was Leon who approached him first, a concerned look on his face despite Merlin’s nonchalant expression as he checked over the string for wear and tear:

“Are you feeling alright, Merlin? You got a few good shots in there, you’re not feeling sick?”

Merlin looked up at the hand on his shoulder and the soft words, a confused look on his face:

“Why would being good make me feel sick?”

Leon tilts his head in sympathy, which just makes Merlin even more confused:

“The man you killed the other month was spur of the moment, protecting your King. But you... you killed a fair few men today, Merlin. I know that can be incredibly difficult at first, I just wanted to check in.”

The others had finally walked over to join them; Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, and Arthur looking equally concerned, whilst Lancelot hid his proud smile. Merlin just raised an eyebrow at them:

“You seem to be under the impression that I’ve never killed anyone before?”

Everyone (bar Lancelot) looks taken aback at that, and Arthur frowns whilst Leon drops his hand in shock. The King speaks slowly:

“Merlin, are you telling us you’ve killed people before?”

The manservant clenches his jaw at that and looks back down at his bow, resuming his checking of the string and its knots. He speaks lowly, and the knights can tell it’s not a topic he’s fond of:

“Hmm. It’s a tough world, Sire. I’ve done what I had to, to keep myself and the people I care about safe.”

At his dark reply, conversation stopped, and didn’t resume for the rest of the day as everyone contemplated Merlin’s words.

That is, until he was the first one to successfully catch dinner later that evening. At which he got an incredulous look from Arthur when he made it back to camp with his half of the patrol:

“I thought you despised hunting??”

Merlin didn’t look up from the hares he was skinning, and the rest of the knights tuned in, curious:

“No. I hate hunting for sport; it shows hubris and cruelty. Hunting for food is not only necessary and natural, but humbling, if you do it right and honour every part of the creature.”

Arthur, ever the eloquent one, stared at him blankly, and said, rather dumbly:

“...What?”

Merlin huffed, finally looking up:

“Going after helpless animals on horseback with crossbows and hunting dogs is like giving yourself a huge pat on the back for winning a tournament against an unarmoured, unarmed, unconscious opponent, and then calling yourself strong and brave for daring to fight in the first place. It’s an egotistical act of violence for no other reason than cruelty for the sake of cruelty.-”

The knights looks on him with shock, Percival and Leon at least having the decency to look a little ashamed. Merlin looks back down to the hares, and everyone notices the careful way he cuts at the fur:

“I’ve taken these lives to feed us as a necessity. The meat will be eaten, but that isn’t all. I’ll take the bones home for Gaius, the marrow is useful in a lot of medicine. The fur can be repurposed for winter gloves or socks. The organs and other bits that we won’t eat: I’ll take for the pigs in the farms, or the dogs up at the castle. In using every part of them we are... honouring them, in a way. As a thank-you for their... sacrifice.”

Arthur looks a little dumbfounded. As royalty, he of course had never really considered the waste that comes about with hunting, but Merlin, a farm-boy from a rural village who barely scraped by every winter? Of course he saw a deeper meaning in hunting. He would have to.

Elyan is the first to break the silence:

“You almost sound religious, Merlin.”

Merlin looks up at him, a strained smile on his face. As magic incarnate, he has a particularly strong, temperamental relationship with nature and her creatures, a bond that some might call faith. To be wasteful or cruel in any way hurts him in more ways than one:

“Not really, I just have respect for nature, is all.”

No one mentions the thinly-veiled insult, but everyone creeps closer, wanting to see the way he disassembles the creatures for future reference.

~

It’s been eight months since that first, perfect shot.

Merlin’s skills with a longbow had become a normal, expected part of The Gang’s experiences, but the knights never stopped praising and thanking him when he saved their lives (something that Merlin still hadn’t quite gotten used), and The King had apparently not stopped thinking about it for barely more than a second. 

Yule was approaching quickly: Merlin, Gwen, and the Steward being constantly busy with preparations in the castle, the knights being run off their feet escorting emergency aid to the border villages for the harsh winter, and Arthur himself having every minute of the day taken up with speech writing, invite sending, and his other general King-during-Yule duties.

That however, was all to be expected, and of course did nothing to keep Arthur and Merlin from their annual traditions.

It wasn’t official, it wasn’t even spoken of, but the last evening of Yule, the night before the new year, the two of them always spent together.

The last feast of the year would finish, Arthur would stay to see his guests off, thank the staff for all of their hard work, and finally retire to his chambers, his tired manservant barely a hair’s breadth behind him. They would sit in front of the lit hearth (in comfy chairs that only they used), work their way through a jug or two of wine, exchange small gifts, and fall asleep in front of the fire. Their hands, dangling over the side of their chairs, seem to be creeping closer and closer with each passing year; though have yet to become entangled by morning.

This year was somehow no different, and very different, at the same time.

The King and his Manservant settled in their chairs, tired and already a little more than tipsy from the wine drunk during the feast. Arthur looked up at Merlin, the fond smile dropping from his face when he sees the other man’s features pulled into a contemplative frown:

“What’s on your mind, Merls? I don’t think I’ve seen you this serious since the start of the celebrations.”

Merlin looked up at him suddenly, his eyes wide, but he smiles and shakes his head:

“Nothing, nothing. Just thinking is all.”

Normally, Arthur would raise an eyebrow and let a scathing tease on the state of Merlin’s intelligence fall from his lips, but not tonight. This is the only night of the year that The King allows himself to entertain the idea that perhaps he and Merlin were more than friends, or at least could be. So instead he resumes his smiling, and looks back to the fire, taking another sip of his wine before responding softly:

“What about?”

Merlin hums, copying Arthur’s wine-sipping, before taking a deep breath:

“The future, mostly. You, me, Camelot. Secrets and truths, and when one might turn into the other. Soon, I think... yeah. Soon.”

Arthur huffs slightly in amusement. He knows that Merlin hides a great deal of himself, but he always becomes more cryptic after a few glasses of wine, like he desperately wants to say something and doesn’t have the power to stop himself from hinting at whatever it may be.

He asks his next question good-naturedly, a smile sweetened by wine gracing his face:

“The hell does that mean?”

Merlin lets out a short laugh, looking up at the other man:

“Oh, you know. Thinking about spilling all my deepest darkest secrets to you, at some point soon.”

Arthur snorts, saying, only for the sake of keeping up the charade they’ve built:

“You don’t have any secrets, Merlin. Certainly not any that are deep or dark.”

Once, Arthur would have believed that. Then, when he stopped believing it, he was angry about it, and now? Now, he finds he doesn’t mind so much. He is confident, he has faith, in both himself and in Merlin. He knows that those secrets are there, and Merlin knows that he knows, but that’s ok. Nothing either of them could reveal would tear them apart, at least not for long, so Arthur was happy to wait until Merlin was happy to share.

Merlin chuckled at Arthur’s response, shaking his head slightly before reaching down and picking up a small wrapped parcel that he’d stowed away before the feast:

“Come on, I’m a little nervous about your gift this year, so let’s get it over and done with.”

Arthur nodded, accepting the change in subject, and set his wine down so he could pick up the (much bigger) parcel by his own chair.

Merlin raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. After the first gift-exchange happened, Merlin had put his foot down and made Arthur swear to not go overboard on the expense side of things. Arthur may have been a prince, and now a King, but Merlin was still just a servant/physician; he could hardly afford anything worthy of a King. 

He had a feeling that Arthur might’ve broken his word this year, but where Arthur had likely gone overboard with expense, Merlin had definitely gone overboard with sentimentality.

They swapped parcels, Merlin placing the large, heavy box carefully at his feet as he gestured Arthur to open his first. Arthur got to it, tearing the paper off without a second of hesitation, and Merlin allowed himself to smile fondly at the child-like excitement on the blonde’s face.

Arthur’s brow creased as he dropped the paper to the floor, stroking soft fingers over the worn leather of an old, well-loved book. Merlin took deep, fortifying breaths as Arthur carefully opened the first few pages, butterflies in his stomach as Arthur’s eyes wandered the yellowed paper in curiosity.

The King looked up at him, amused confusion on his face as he asked:

“Is this yours? I didn’t know you could draw, Merlin.”

Merlin gulped, and shook his head as memories of the exquisite sketches filled his mind; detail-perfect renditions of the castle, the town square, waterfalls and knights in action and people that Merlin didn’t recognise (for the most part. Arthur evidently hadn’t gotten to any of the pages with young Uther on them).

“No, not mine. This one requires a little explanation-”

Arthur nodded, carefully closing the book and holding it protectively in his lap as he gave Merlin his undivided attention:

“-I mentioned off-handedly to Leon a few months ago that I thought the lack of... of paintings of the late Queen in the castle was odd.-”

Arthur gulped at the mention of his mother, but nodded with a small smile when Merlin paused:

“-He said that when she passed, The King had everything to do with her moved to the vaults. He couldn’t force himself to destroy any of it, but looking at it, day in and day out, was too painful. We found the keys, with the help of Geoffrey, and went down to have a look, see what we could find. We didn’t tell you about it because we didn’t want to disappoint you, in case we couldn’t find anything.-”

Merlin once again looked a little nervous at this, and reached a hand out towards Arthur. When the man didn’t flinch away (if anything, he leaned into it), he moved to grip his shoulder blade, running his thumb over the exposed skin at the base of The King’s neck.

“-We found... a lot. Old clothes and paintings mainly, some jewellery. But then I found that;-”

He nodded at the book in Arthur’s lap, and tightened his grip on his shoulder. Merlin spoke his next words so quietly that Arthur almost doesn’t hear him, a soft smile on his face:

“-your mother was quite the artist, Arthur. I knew you had to have it.”

Arthur gasped softly, his eyes widening as he looked down at the book:

“You... you think my mother drew these?”

Merlin smiled at him, moving his hand to squeeze Arthur’s wrist slightly, before dropping it entirely:

“Check the back page.”

Arthur took a deep breath before doing what Merlin said, handling the book with even more care than he had before now that he knows who it belonged to. He turned to the very last page, to see an inscription written in beautiful cursive. Merlin recited it aloud, having memorised the words weeks ago:

“My dearest son, my silly sketches are able to hold only a fraction of our Kingdom’s beauty. I know one day that you will see what I see, treasure it just as much, and make it your own. You have my support, forever and always, your loving Mother.”

Arthur bites his lip harshly, lifting the book to press his forehead against the words as he shuts his eyes tightly, though that does nothing to stop the tears. Merlin replaces his hand on The King’s shoulder as the man shakes. He sniffles slightly, putting the book back in his lap, though keeping his hands wrapped around it securely, as he looks to Merlin:

“Merlin, I... I don’t even know what to say. This is... amazing. I... Thank you.”

Merlin smiles, shaking his head slightly:

“Technically, it wasn’t even mine to give, it’s always been yours. But I thought it might make a nice surprise. There’s plenty of other stuff down there, I’ll show you in the morning.”

Arthur nods his head, wiping his tears as he carefully places the book on his side table and gestures to the box at Merlin’s feet. He was itching to scour through the book, dedicating every single line to memory, but whilst Merlin had been nervous about Arthur’s gift, Arthur was buzzing about Merlin’s, and he was desperate to see the man’s reaction.

Merlin huffs out a laugh, but picks the box up, noting once again how heavy it is. He sets about removing the paper, much calmer and more methodical than Arthur had been, with his face pinched in concentration.

He frowns in curiosity as he sets eyes on the wooden box. It had a hinged lid, and a logo that he’s certain he recognises burned like a brand into the corner. He can feel Arthur bouncing in his chair slightly, and looks up at him in amusement, laughing once again when he nods excitedly back down at the box.

He lifts the lid, and takes in a shocked breath.

Inside was a beautifully crafted long bow; the wood smooth and varnished and carved, and a leather quiver. The patterns embossed in the leather and carved in to the metal at the base, match those carved into the wood of the bow, and Merlin traces soft fingers over the intricate swirls, stopping with a teary smile at the Pendragon crest, carved just next to a Merlin bird.

He lets out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding as he looks up at the excited King:

“Arthur this is beautiful. Gods I almost don’t want to touch it, I feel like it should be on display behind glass.”

Arthur lets out a laugh, obviously pleased with Merlin’s reaction:

“Nope. It will be going with you every time you leave the city, and considering how much trouble we always seem to attract, I have no doubt that it will see a lot of use.”

Merlin laughs, closing the lid carefully and setting the box back on the floor, before launching himself bodily at Arthur. The blonde laughs, wrapping his arms around Merlin’s middle with no hesitation as the other man mutters endless thank-yous in his ear.

The servant finally pulls back, settling in his own chair again, and the two of them hope that the other puts the flush on their face down to the wine, and nothing else. They look to each other with wide grins on their faces, and Arthur breaks the stare first, taking another gulp of his wine before laughing jovially and speaking:

“Well. Here’s to an amazing year, and hopefully an even better one, starting in a few minutes.”

Merlin nods, lifting his own goblet to tap it against Arthur’s:

“Here’s to the past, that guides us-”

He gestures to the book on Arthur’s table:

“-and the future, that calls to us.”

He gestures to his new bow, and they both finish their wine off, a healthy flush to their cheeks and fond smiles on their faces.

They fall asleep in their respective chairs, the same as every year. 

In the morning, they wake with pounding headaches, a promise of a golden future, and hands intertwined.

~

THE END!!

We love a cutesy/hopeful ending😌

Like always lads, you wanna write it out in full, go for it, credit and tag me✌️

Head over to This List to see what I’m working on next, and cast your vote!

[clairecrive]

hi! I just recently found your account and I've been spending all my time reading everything you've written, and I wanted to tell you that I absolutely adore your writing! it's so beautiful.

I also wanted to request a friends to lovers nikolai x reader fic (you don't have to make it friends to lovers if you don't want to!) something along the lines of this: they get seperated after the battle with the darkling at the end of siege and storm and reader has to go with alina but they finally reunite? and everyone is super smug because they knew it would happen.

sorry for such a long ask and no worries if you decide not to do it! I hope you're doing well!!

Fools, pistols blazing and shock

A/n: a promise is a promise and the second most requested fic was Nikolai and angst and so here it is! friends to lovers is not my favorite trope but I enjoyed writing this. I hope you will too x

Thank you so much for your beautiful words btw, they mean the world <3<3

tags: @jupiterandbutterflies , @agentsofsheilds , @for-bebbanburg , @randomoutsiders , @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @story-scribbler , @crowssixof , @odetostep , @lizzie-he4rts , @korol-lantsov , @subjecta13-thefangirl ,@gallysonegoodlung , @a-c-lee , @mriddlemethis , @carnationworld , @thanossexual , @luvxginger , @sanna2020 , @partiesandblurrypolaroids , @edithsvoice , @wafflesandschemingfaces , @snugleo , @sugarmelonwater , @dobwhore, @sassybadqueen , @anything-forourmoony, @snokoi, @imaginingimagines, @vintagebitc_,

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

"So," he twirled around, "how do I look?" With a theatrical gesture, he stopped in front of you.

You looked at him, head to toe, before saying, "Like a fool I know."

He was imperturbable, by the smirk on his face one would think that you had paid him a compliment. "The answer was far simpler: handsome."

"You look like a prince," you conceded, " but so does your brother so take that as you will." And with that, you walked to your assigned post leaving a scandalized Nikolai behind.

The dinner went by smoothly even if you had to bear Vasily being his annoying self. So far so good. The important thing was that the people around the table were under no threat. The rest was bearable.

And no, it had nothing to do with Nikolai winking at you from time to time. Flirting was second nature to him and Alina's presence by his side was a cold reminder of how things were.

It took one look at her for your face to go as blank as Mal's on the other side of the room.

You had disconnected from the conversation at the table for a second, your attention going to the exit where a Grisha soldier had just walked in to talk to Zoya. If you had been paying attention to Nikolai, you would have known what to expect.

But you hadn't and so the next few seconds were pure chaos.

The unthinkable happened.

Black shadows filled the room, leaving no chance to the people they had appeared before. The Queen's scream brought your attention back to the table and consequently to the Vasily. Or rather, to what was left of him.

Beside him, the kind had crouched down to hide and was cowering behind the throne. The Queen clutched her son's body to her chest wailing and screaming. Then your eyes fell on him, standing tall in front of his parents shooting away.

You didn't know what you were going to do. You didn't think. You just acted and the next thing you knew, you were running towards him shooting fire at whatever tendrils of shadows you could see.

"Nikolai!"

In a moment, you reached his side, covering his back for every possible attack.

"You need to go," you urged him over the sounds of crying and shooting. A shot of light filled the room blinking you for a moment and panic shot through you at the possibility of Alina being hurt.

"Take your parents and Alina and go Nikolai. You can't stay here!" You insisted again, still back to back, unwilling to let anything happen to him. If he meant to argue you didn't know. You heard him speak but his words went unheard over the chaos in the room.

You turned around just in time to see one of those things trying to make their way to him. The tendrils of fire that shot through you slowed it down but it was only a shot of wind coming from a squaller that did the trick and sent it away.

Nodding in the squaller's direction you took Nikolai's shoulders and turned him towards the secret exit behind the throne.

"Stop playing hero and just go for Saint's sake!" Under normal circumstances, he was stronger than you. And well, he still was but too busy worrying about getting his family to safety and covering your back, he ended up succumbing to your shoves.

"I can't leave you here!"

"You can and you surely will! I'll make sure that Alina is safe," ushering him and his parents towards the exit, you didn't give him time to argue. Once they were through the door, you closed it behind them and melted the lock.

You allowed yourself only a moment to worry about him, to mourn him if things were to go downhill for you. Only a second for you to mourn the future that you knew you were never going to get with him.

Then it was over. Your heart locked away and your mind focused solely on the battle ahead. You needed to make sure that Alina was alive and get her to safety whilst also trying to save as many as you could along the way.

A piece of cake.

*+*+*+*+*+*

You knew that he had made it out of Os Alta alive. You had gotten word that he had arrived safe and sound to one of his hiding spots scattered around the country.

Alina and a group of other Grisha, including yourself, had managed to make it out alive out of the capital as well.

All was as well as it could be under these gloomy circumstances. And yet, you couldn't help but feel like you had lost.

Too many had fallen under the Darkling's wrath. Too many had given up their lives in honor of Ravka's freedom. Too many sacrifices for you all to be hiding in the tunnels like scared cats.

But you had a plan. You just needed to be in the same room as Alina, all of you at once, and you were going to make your way up.

It was only a matter of time before you were going to see him again.

*+*+*+*+*+*

It turned out that you were right. It was a matter of time indeed before you saw Nikolai again.

As always, he couldn't help but make a grand entrance while praising his good looks. For once, your eyes didn't roll in mock annoyance. The joy of seeing him again, safe and sound while also saving your asses, prevailed.

And the moment his eyes met yours? Priceless.

Despite being in the middle of running away and fighting the first army's soldiers, you felt like there was only the two of you. Nothing mattered besides Nikolai, his stupid smirk that shone brighter than all the stars combined.

It turned out that that moment came with a price indeed. Your distraction paved the way for an almost fatal mistake.

Too lost in Nikolai's eyes and restraining yourself from throwing yourself at him, you didn't notice the soldier sneaking up behind him. Or well, you didn't until it was too late.

The movement caught your eyes, but the bastard had his pistol already drawn. You had the presence of the spirit of pushing Nikolai out of the way before a shot was fired.

Focusing on the bullet you tried all your might to melt it, but you knew it was a desperate attempt since you had noticed it too late. Trying and losing was better than not trying at all so trying you did.

However, what turned out to be life-saving was Nikolai's counterattack. While you exercised the small science, Nikolai quickly drew his own pistol and shoot at the soldier.

Time seemed to slow down as you stared in front of him, hands in the air while Nikolai moved behind you. Right before your brain registered that while you had indeed managed to burn the bullet, it was still coming your way at high speed, another object entered your field vision.

At that moment you didn't exactly decipher what had happened, you blinked and the bullet was not there anymore. However, your stupor was short-lived as other soldiers were coming your way after hearing the noise.

At that point, Nikolai tugged you away and towards his awaiting ship knowing that the soldiers would surely outnumber you.

It all happened in a blink. One moment you were on the ground hellbent on not dying, and the other you were up in the air.

That, combined with the stress of the last couple of weeks. exhaustion and dehydration put you in a state of shock. Resulting in you staring numbly ahead of you.

Then, when you felt a hand on your face, your brain started working again and your eyes slowly began to focus.

"Are you injured?"

Nikolai was moving your head left and right to check for wounds and after that, he moved down on your neck and vital points. But you weren't hurt.

"It's so typically you to swoop in and save the day in the most dramatic way possible that I shouldn't even be surprised."

Your sarcasm reassured him that you were fine more than the absence of physical wounds. Leaning back on his haunches, he gave you a lazy smirk. "You know me, always read to save damsels in distress."

You almost hated how handsome he looked in that moment but the fact that he basically had saved your life made it really hard for you to get mad at him.

"Not a damsel and not in distress but I appreciated your gesture," you fired back falling naturally into your usual easy banter. "Thank you, Kolya."

"You shouldn't be thanking me. I did it for a whole selfish reason." His features morphed into seriousness which was usually something he left for meetings or that kind of stuff. Seeing it now directed at you, seriously worried you.

"Since when does Nikolai Lanstov shy away from gratefulness and compliments?" You tried to jest but to no avail.

"I'm serious."

"Alright, so why did you do it? You have tons of other Grisha available."

"Because a world without you is not a world I want to live in."

Well, damn. Trust Nikolai to make you completely speechless.

"That must be the shock talking," you murmured still taken back by his words.

"I've almost lost you, y/n, I'm not going to waste any more time avoiding my feelings." Crossing his arms on his chest, Nikolai lightly shook his head. Damn, there was no smirk on his face, no twinkle in his eyes. He must be serious.

"I should be having an epiphany moment since I was the one who almost died," you protested.

"Feel free to declare your undying love for me then."

"Ass. Now I'm tempted not to do it just to prove you wrong," you glared at him but sighed knowing what you needed to do. "But, as much as it pains me, you're right."

Your eyes flickered between yours and the sheer intensity of them gave you enough confidence to bear your heart to him, "I do love you, you know."

"Well, let's be honest, who wouldn't. I'm amazing," with a careless shrug, Nikolai gestured to himself. Which, of course, made you glare at him.

"Joking, I take it back. You're insufferable." Your mock-annoyance did nothing but amuse him to no end. However untruthful they might be, Nikolai played along with your words. While also progressively leaning closer to you.

"Nope, can't do that love. You signed your destiny, you're mine." You would have retired, of course you would have, but the truth is, his lips were more interesting than any witty comeback ever could.

[comfortwriting]

Paying For It - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

Dom Fred Weasley x Sub Fem Reader

About: During the Yule Ball, Fred notices a student from Durmstrang watching his girlfriend throughout the evening, when Fred goes away to get a drink, the student approaches Y/N and asks her for a dance. Fred is furious and jealous, and Y/N will pay for it.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Dom/Sub, daddy-kink, breeding-kink, male receiving oral, rough-sex, female receiving oral, fingering, swearing, outdoor, unprotected rough sex, bulging.

Prompts:

103: "Look at me when I'm fucking talking to you, you pathetic slut."

106: "Be careful," he warned you, fucking you faster "you know how bad I want to knock you up."

107: "Be a good girl" he growled "or daddy will have to punish you."

109: "You look so gorgeous staring up at me with those big tear-filled eyes, your throat full of my cock."

You were having the time of your life, being on Fred's arm in a stunning dress with your hair and makeup done, enjoying the band and being able to let loose with your boyfriend.

You still couldn't believe you were dating, that he even asked you to the ball - you spent the first two years of Hogwarts hating each other, trying to hide your real feelings.

"You look bloody stunning," Fred smiled, dancing to the upbeat music.

You blushed and danced along, your feet starting to hurt from breaking into your heels.

"Thank you," you shouted above the music "you look rather handsome, Freddie."

Fred rolled his eyes and pulled a face, pouting and pretending to be flattered, you slapped his shoulder playfully and giggled. Fred laughed along but stopped, he stared behind you and his face fell and hardened like stone.

"What's wrong?" you asked, "you haven't spiked the drinks bowl with those trial pastilles have you?!"

Fred shook his head "No, I haven't."

You furrowed your brows and stopped dancing "So, what is it?"

Fred focused back on you "Nothing, it doesn't matter." He didn't want to ruin your night.

But it wasn't just nothing. Fred noticed that throughout the evening, one of the lads from Durmstrang had been eyeing you up - practically undressing you with his eyes - and Fred hated it.

When Durmstrang arrived at Hogwarts, the lads were amazed and the women were starstruck - Fred worried that their skills would gain your attention - but you weren't wowed, you were more interested in Fred plans for the future.

Your interest in Fred and devotion to him didn't stop the student from staring at you, and most likely talking about you to Victor - and Fred could only grip you by the waist so many times to try and get the message across.

Fred pulled you closer, slow dancing with you despite the high energy song and the crowd jumping.

He could feel the jealousy inside of him brewing, he needed to get back on the quidditch pitch soon or he might end up snapping. You could sense that Fred was in distress, but you didn't press further, you knew it wouldn't help the situation.

Fred sighed, his mouth dry as a bone, looking at the table next to him, all the cups and glasses were empty.

"Fancy a drink, love?" he asked "I'm dying for one."

You nodded your head, you too needed a drink after all the shouting over the music.

"Please! Thanks, Freddie." You smiled.

Fred left you on your own, grumbling under his breath, trying to keep calm and reassure himself that the Durmstrang student wasn't a threat, that you were truly his.

Taking a seat at one of the tables, you watched Angelina and George dancing - unable to stop your smiling, until Ron stormed past in his dress robes - you burst out laughing and slapped your hand over your mouth, not wanting him to hear you and be embarrassed.

"Miss Y/L/N," an unfamiliar voice called out.

You turned your face and stared up at the lad dressed from head to toe in red velvet and fur, you had noticed him when messing around with Fred in the Great Hall and in the stands at the first event, you were hoping he had Krums autograph for you to give to Ron.

"Hello," you replied, feeling slightly awkward "are you alright?"

Fred turned around, two cups in his hand filled with juice, he dropped one to the floor, spilling it over his shoes at the sight of the student chatting you up. He lifted his cup to his lips, downing the liquid and tossing it, marching over towards you.

How dare he! Bloody waiting for me to leave so he could swoop in on her!

"Uh, I have a boyfriend, sorry-" you rejected him, your cheeks heating up and flushing pink.

Fred pushed in front of you, glaring at him "After something?" he asked, his voice unkind.

The tall and muscular student shook his head, unphased by Fred's arrival and walked off without a word.

"What did he want?" Fred asked frantically, his feet getting itchy.

You sighed, "Nothing-"

Fred pulled you up from your seat and escorted you out of the castle, breaking you out into the cold, dark, and snowy evening.

"Fred, slow down, please!" you huffed, getting out of breath.

"What did he want!" Fred pulled you behind the shrubbery, knowing if you were to get caught, your evening would be ruined.

You sighed, "He asked me for a dance, Fred, nothing more."

"He's been staring at you all evening and the one time I leave he swoops in on you like that!"

"Fred, keep your voice down!" You hissed.

"You're gonna pay for this, love!" Fred hissed back, flipping you and holding you down against the snow, your back freezing.

"Fred! What are you-" You giggled and whining against the cold.

Fred bit his lip, trying not to admit he was jealous.

You opened your mouth and raised your eyebrows "Fredrick Gideon Weasley, are you jealous!"

You grinned and Fred put his hand over your mouth.

"Be a good girl" he growled "or daddy will have to punish you."

Your heart skipped a beat, you and Fred rarely had sex or engaged in any sexual activity as of recent - you were too busy placing bets with the tournament and planning products for the joke shop.

Truth be told, you were liking the direction this was going - Fred being jealous, taking control.

You smirked and licked your bottom lip, the snow dampening your dress and hair.

"Oh really?" your voice low "Prove it."

Fred's erection was poking through his trousers, he unbuttoned them and yanked down his zip, his trousers falling to his ankles, pulling down his boxers, his erection slapped against his lower stomach.

"Don't just lay there," Fred stared at you, pumping his length "open up."

Getting on your knees, pushing them into the snow, you opened your mouth and looked up at Fred standing over you, looked down on you.

Fred grabbed the back of your head and fed you his cock, using his hand to bob your head, your saliva coated his length, making it easier to slide down your throat, making you gag and your eyes tear up.

Fred hung his head back and moaned softly, part of him hoped that the Durmstrang student would somehow go for a walk and come across you pleasuring him - anything to make it clear that you belonged to Fred and no one else, the thought of someone else wanting you made Fred take control, face fucking you.

The sound of you gagging and Fred fucking your face made you wet, and also made this whole experience exciting - would you get caught? would you get away with it? You didn't know but the possibilities were exciting.

"You look so gorgeous staring up at me with those big tear-filled eyes, your throat full of my cock." Fred groaned, his face stroking your bulging cheek.

Ignoring Fred, you hummed and sucked lazily, wanting to annoy him.

"Look at me when I'm fucking talking to you, you pathetic slut."

It worked.

You started to laugh and stopped sucking, pulling away from his length, your saliva pooling out of your mouth and dripping down your chin.

"What's so funny?" Fred asked, an annoyed expression forming on his face.

You shrugged, feeling daring "I'm missing a dance, for this."

Fred's eyes widened and he pulled you up, grabbing you by the waist and bending you over.

You giggled, doing your best to lift up your dress as Fred pulled down your knickers, the cold air attacking your exposed clit. He kicked your legs apart, spitting on his fingers and spreading his saliva in between your folds before using his tongue, circling it around your entrance hole.

Your moans spilt from your mouth at the feeling of Fred's warm tongue swimming whilst his fingers stimulated your clit, pulling away, Fred's lubricated length lined up against your entrance.

"Don't be too loud, now," he warned you, pushing his length deep inside you.

"Fuck," you moaned softly, adjusting to the feeling of being stretched out and filled up.

Fred's hands held onto your waist as he started to buck his hips, thrusting inside of you, deeper and deeper, taking out his feelings on your cunt.

"I wonder," you panted "if it would just be a dance for him-"

Fred fucked you harder, gritting his teeth, his fingers digging into you.

"It's strange," you continued "everyone knows I'm yours but he doesn't seem to understand."

"Be careful," he warned you, fucking you faster "you know how bad I want to knock you up."

"Maybe you should," you sighed, trying your best not to grin.

Fred stopped for a moment, catching his breath before gripping you by the hair, pounding you with his length.

"Is that what you want? To be filled with my seed? For everyone to know that I've fucked you senseless."

You couldn't stop yourself from moaning out in pleasure, you had to cover your mouth to muffle the noise, even the slapping was loud enough - how you hadn't already been caught, you didn't know.

"I want it just as much as you do, daddy."

Fred could no longer control himself, the idea and thought of everyone knowing he fucked you made him closer to cumming inside of you - your stomach started to tense up, your legs shaking, you could feel yourself release - your cum coating him.

"That's it," Fred panted, "fucking cum!"

Fred's lips, like yours, were bright red from the biting and the cold air, your walls strangled him, and as he twitched, he came inside of you, holding you close to him, his face getting lost in your tangled hair.

"I told you, you would pay for it," he panted, planting a kiss on your neck.

"I'm glad I did," you replied "No one else I'd rather be with, Freddie."

taglist: @horrorxweasley @rreeaahh @inglourious-imagines @onlyfreds @xmalfoyweasleyx @scorpireads @themoonis-beautiful-tonight @enya-2004 @nimueh-lacus @youralternantpersonality @pottahishotasf @supermassiveblackhope 

[starshipsofstarlord]

Smooth as the nine realms

loki laufeyson x reader / masterlist

summary; the midguardian lifestyle is strange, but there is an aspect of it that loki is definitely not accustomed to, and he’s conflicted about whether he likes it or not / warnings; smut, talk about pubic hair, or lack of, oral sex (female receiving)

kicking off your leggings, you abolished them to the other side of the room, straddling loki as he abandoned his book, caring not that the pair of you were in the middle of the common room, nor the fact that he had lost his page. it had been a few months since loki had been forced to join the avengers on their next quest, thor had practically dragged him towards the bifrost.

but now, he didn’t mind earth so much. sometimes it could be quiet, that was when all members of the team were away on missions, and thor allowed him to be by himself. this though, the way you, an average, world protecting midguardian straddled him, after stripping out of your top and bra, in the middle of a public sector of the domain, was something that he sure as valhalla had no mind about.

in fact, he rather enjoyed the way that your hands roughed down the points of his shoulders, and trailed down his biceps, that were underrated, especially in comparison to his brother’s. the two of you had been playing a game since he attacked the planet, it was a chase of cat and mouse.

at first, he had envisioned you to be the mouse, but you no longer seemed meek and small any longer. instead, you were the feline that was cosying herself upon the perch of his royal lap, descending her grounding hips over the throne of his pelvis.

“what is it trickster, cat got your tongue?” you seemed rather confident with the way that his eyes remained glue to your mound, he realised that must have been quite a complimentary action for a mortal man to show to his partner.

to be truthful, it felt as though all speech was parched from his mouth, he had knowingly waited for this instance where you would deliberately rut yourself against him; like heimdall, he had a vision of the future delved in the reverse side of his eyes, though, his reaction was the most unexpected thing that he could had intended to paraphrase.

he trailed his hand over your mound, through the fabric of underwear, watching mercilessly as you bucked into his hand. midguardians were something else, they weren’t as sensual as others he had been with concerning their sexuality, in fact, as it appeared, some were desperate.

you were rutting in his grip, though he applied a stern hold unto them, forcing you to stop your ravenous movements, and pose stilly for the god beneath you. he gently, which was a surprise to you with how tender and kind his eyes had become, laid you down on the couch that stark has paid a pretty penny for, exchanging your positions so that you were the one under his demeanour.

“do something.” you eagerly insisted, lacing your mortal fingers through his midnight locks, tugging gently at his dark roots. a glassy encasement covered his eyes as he stared up at you, it was a mess to place the expression that was carried within them, gods were difficult, that much was clear. though, you weren’t seeking anything particularly intimate with the company of one, this had been inevitable though.

it had been like a kettle brewing, screeching like an applause when the pair of you had finally gotten to the point of no return. this was it, there were no divine interventions or avenging interruptions to discard this moment, instead you and loki were thrown this coin toss, given your desires in the aura of a wish fountain.

“humans.” his voice prowled, making bumps appear on your skin, as he blew a swift succession of cold air across your stomach, it sending a blizzard of coolness up the paving of your chest, making your nipples undeniably hard, their stiff peaks that beaded under his breath were almost painful as they stood obediently to attention. “always so demanding, why can’t your kind beg for a change, i know that would appease my hunger?”

“oh loki, please.” your tone was severely monotone, and caused the mischievous lord to roll his gemstone eyes, rendering their spheric pupils to glare in amusedly at you, though, he tugged your panties down, the sight leaving him breathless. he was enraptured with the sight, perplexed by it as his emerald eyes stared up at you for an explanation. though, you were not sure what he was expecting from you.

his throat dry, as for once, he was not able to comprehend the situation. his silver tongue had gotten lost, obstructed as he grew distracted by the visual that he was receiving. it was a cunt, he knew that much, but there was someone uniquely different about it, he’d assume it was scalped if her were to make verbal predictions. “what is this?”

“my attempts at deflating your ego. i am not going to beg for you to do something to me, i can easily find someone else.” you rested your head back, digging the crown of it further into the end of the couch, as you parted your legs a little further to resend an invitation for him to proceed.

“not that...” loki revealed, paving his icy hands up the roads of your thighs, letting his forefinger brush over your pubic mound, it was like the bifrost, a smooth pathing to a transportation of depth, one that he wished to investigate, though he was still stricken by the eventing shock that pulsed within his golden veins. he had always been a curious child, and he remained to be as keen to know all now, at centuries upon centuries old.

“have you never seen a vagina before?” you huffed, wanting him to do nothing more than devour your cunt, stabbing you with his vigilant tongue so that he could curl crude and priceless sounds out of your mouth. if anyone knew that you were about to participate in intercourse with the destructive, slippery handed body, they would surely judge you.

but they didn’t, and even if that were not the case, you wouldn’t care. your mind was far too preoccupied with the growing inclination to jump the god’s elegantly crafted bones, bury for now you, remained still, allowing him to assert his comfort within the situation. “what’s wrong?” this time, he answered you, looking almost like a dear kitten that was plodding through the bustling streets, seeking out attention from a kind citizen, having hopes to be taken to a home, and fed well.

“why-,” he cleared his throat, he never came across as this nervous to anyone, it was as though he feared what you may think of him if he were to speak his mind. “why don’t you have hair- here?” he stroked the pad of his thumb over the flat and bare crest, finding it to be one of the most peculiar things regarding humans that he had ever witnessed.

“because i shave.” it was a simple answer, whilst all while being not as direct as the god was hoping for. “it’s kinda a thing down here, some people let it grow out, others don’t. it’s whatever picks their fancy, and a lot of people, like me, shave so intimate partners don’t get grossed out. some guys are dicks and hate everything that is natural.”

“well i’d still be reaped with great, reprised regret, if i were to reform the idea of giving you satisfaction if you were to have a natural slate sheathing around your sweet cunt.” he inhaled, making your muscles wither with succumbed arousal. the god could smell your distinct scent of attraction towards him, and he was visually compelled by the aroma that invaded his senses.

loki, without warning, placed his palm over your clean shaven mound, holding you down as his tongue worked against your tender flesh, stroking it as though he bore a hand of intricacy, sketching out every detail of your skin, plucking the outer labia into the hatch of his often deceiving mouth. he had to admit, in his mind of course, he liked the access that he was granted by this strange human lifestyle.

the idea of pubic hair was one of parts of a woman’s body that usually fuelled the immortal man, however if you didn’t want to bear its follicles on your skin, then that was to it choice. he wouldn’t judge you for it, although he happened to judge midguardians on everything. you were different from the others though, despite sometimes bickering, and making stabbing jokes towards one another, he rather enjoyed your presence.

with you nearby, he finally felt seen. he was not only the immortal that had prided himself with almost crushing an entire mortal city, no. you saw through that, understanding that he was definitely not in his own mindset, he had been controlled. it was never in his plans to venture to midguard, even if it was to cause a ruckus. but now with you, he never wanted to leave.

despite your optimal obligations regarding the team, and villains much like himself, he felt accepted. thor too appreciated him, but that was far different, there had always been a means of competition between the brother, with you, that regard was not present. he could be himself, and appreciate your side silhouette, and demand the agents that passed by with wandering eyes with threats if they did not continue walking.

now that he thought about that, as he engorged on the taste of your cunt, sliding a prying finger through the door of your entrance, fumbling your clit with his bewitched thumb, he realised something. a great surprise to himself. he indeed cared about you, but far more than he had ever anticipated to. his fingers slowed as he became mesmerised with every small noise that projected from your mouth, wanting to drag this instance out for as long as possible.

not only did his self realisation show him that he found some calm in your lasting presence, but he had feelings. usually he blocked off such things, but the heavenly expression that illustrated itself upon your face had him inwardly swooning. he felt you comb your fingers through his locks, and he hummed. he wanted this moment to last forever, in it, he was not a god, nor an infamous trickster.

he was just a man swarming with irregular emotions towards a woman, a being of optimistic resort; if things were as simple, or if he understood as well, he’d ask to take you for dinner. but he didn’t know where to start with that, not only did he have a lack of wisdom when it came to human restaurants, but he had no clue as to how you would respond. he didn’t even think that you saw him as a suitor, he was simply a deliverer of teasing and now pleasure.

“fuck loki.” the mortal swear sounded like a spell, making his body overbear itself with a proud sensation as he pushed you over the edge, removing his fingers only for you to bring them to your own mouth and clean them off. “holy shit, that was so good. maybe i should have started with gods years ago.”

inherently the mischief source growled, his mind instantly going over to the idea of you choosing his brother; everyone did, they had a strong preference. from his family to his old friends, they all liked thor more, and that was how his resentment towards his brother had originally stemmed. he felt like an outcast, and from that reminded alone, conjoined with your interest towards his brother, he felt his eyes grow glassy.

“go to him. i’m sure thor would appreciate your partnership.” yes, he was acting like a sulking toddler, and it had your brow bone raising as you took in his words. it was his clap back response, and you grasped him, stopping him from leaning the room. you felt slightly vulnerable, being in the nude after such a small lash, but you knew something was bothering loki, and it was clear to what that was.

“i do not want your brother loki, nor any other god.” your voice bit back a strain to its tone, as you stared at the man, standing in your birthday suit before him. your hands splayed on his chest, feeling his heart through his attire viscosity beating. “there is no need to be jealous, it feels like we’ve playing this game for so long, and i intend for it to be over. i will be the first to admit it, i want you, all of you. from the dark corners to the hopeful light in your eyes.”

loki was astounded, nobody had ever been so straight forward with him. despite being the god of mischief, the half of the time it was him whom was the victim of lies. “you don’t mean that.” his hands lightly traced every dip in your hips as he searched your expression for certainty. “nobody wants me, i am the monster that had tales spread to fear the children of my people of a night. there is nowhere i belong, nor anybody whom i belong with.”

“that may be your mindset, or the one that you are speaking, but you are lying to yourself. i do want you loki odinson, please accept that.” he gulped, nobody had ever had he guts to tell him how it was, and here you were, simply speaking your mind before him. it was an admirable feature, something that he deemed to be a favourable quality. “now i think i’m gonna get dressed and head to my room, i am feeling a bit cold. come find me when you feel like admitting the truth to yourself, i’ll be waiting.”

as you went to turn, loki grasped your elbow, hushing your questions with his mouth, as he clutched your cheeks, passionately endorsing you in a meaningful kiss. he walked you backwards, until the pair of you once again fell onto the furniture. “you don’t have to wait y/n, because i do not want to.” he ushered pecks down your neck, as you grew warm from the disappearance of his usual cockiness, it being replaced with true confidence, that served as a show for no one, and instead was his own admittance to all.

[josjournal]

Never (Full Moon Ficlet #499 - Heart)

Written for @fullmoonficlet

CW: surgery, heart attack, panic attack

Derek sat in the hardbacked chair and watched Stiles pace back and forth, one thumb to his lips as he chewed the nail down to the quick. Derek could smell blood in the air, and he stood to pull Stiles’ hand away. Holding Stiles’ wrist, Derek leaned in to press their foreheads together.  

“Breathe,” he said, keeping his voice low and even, trying to press calm through to Stiles. “In.” Stiles shook his head. “In.”

“Der-”

“In,” Derek repeated. After a short huff, Stiles rolled his eyes and breathed in. “One, two, three. Hold. One, two, three. Out. One, two, three.” They repeated it until Stiles’ heart slowed to something closer to a normal rhythm. “Okay, now talk to me.”

“Derek,” Stiles whined, and Derek’s heart broke a little at the amount of pain in that one small sound. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before pressing his eyes closed, tears escaping and sliding down his cheek. The muffled sobs were enough to bring tears to Derek’s eyes.

“Listen to me, Stiles.” He waited a moment, fully expecting a protest. When one didn’t come, he continued speaking. “He is fine. This surgery is commonplace these days.” 

“It’s my dad, Derek,” Stiles pointed out needlessly. “It’s my dad’s heart. The thing that keeps him alive. I can’t lose him.”

“You’re not going to lose him,” Derek assured him. “Your dad is one of the strongest humans I know. This will just make him stronger.”

“Or it’ll kill him, and I’ll be an orphan,” Stiles said, immediately bursting into tears. “Oh my God, I’m sorry! I’m such an idiot. I’m going to lose my dad and my boyfriend on the same day.”

“Stiles,” Derek said, trying to keep his voice kind while still putting strength behind it to get Stiles’ attention before he devolved into another panic attack. He opened his mouth to give more assurances when he heard a familiar voice from down the hall. “Melissa’s coming.”

Stiles turned to face the door they had wheeled his father through five hours earlier. The doors opened with a whoosh less than a minute later, and Melissa came through, looking around the room. Her eyes landed on Stiles, and her face broke into a huge smile. 

“Oh, thank God,” Stiles sobbed. 

Derek barely managed to catch him as Stiles’ knees gave out. A moment later, Melissa was there, her arms around both of them as they all lowered to the floor. Derek kept his nose pressed to Stiles’ temple, whispering soothingly while Melissa gave Stiles updates about the surgery through her own happy tears.

“Can I…can we see him?” Stiles asked.

“Not until he wakes up,” Melissa said, and Stiles frowned, his tears welling up again. “I can move you to a private waiting area that is closer to the room, where someone will be able to monitor his heart and keep you updated.”

“Thank you,” Derek said, standing and wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist to follow Melissa through the doors.

Melissa led them to a small office with an empty desk and two chairs. She gestured to someone in the hall who entered carrying a cafeteria tray with coffees, sodas, and a couple of sandwiches. “Eat while you wait,” Melissa said. “You’re no good to your dad if you pass out from starvation. I’ll check back on you shortly.”

Derek repeated their thanks and hugged her before she left. Turning to Stiles, Derek saw him leaning on the desk, his eyes darting around the room. “Which direction is he?”

Derek tilted his head and listened. He heard different heart monitors but then he heard Melissa speaking. “John, your son and future son-in-law want to see you, so you better wake up soon. If you don’t, Stiles might break a few laws to get in here, and I doubt Derek will stop him.”

Derek pointed at the wall opposite the door. He smiled at Melissa’s words. The wedding planning had been put on hold when John had his last heart attack. Hopefully, they’d get back on track soon, but that wasn’t as important as John’s health.

Stiles moved to the wall and slid down it to sit on the floor. He laid his head back against it. “He’s alive,” Stiles whispered.

“He’s alive,” Derek repeated, taking the tray and moving to sit next to Stiles. 

“Thank you for being here,” Stiles said.

“You and your dad are my family,” Derek told him. “I will be wherever you need me to be, whenever you need me to be.” 

Stiles blinked back tears and laid his head on Derek’s shoulder, moving his hand to cover Derek’s chest. His fingers tapped in the rhythm of Derek’s heart. Derek took his own hand, laid it over Stiles, and began tapping. 

“What’s that?” Stiles asked, his hands stilling as he focused on Derek’s fingers.

“Your father’s heartbeat,” Derek explained. “It’s strong. He’s going to be fine.”

“Don’t stop,” Stiles whispered, and Derek didn’t know if he was talking to him or his father, but it didn’t matter.

“Never,” Derek told him before kissing the top of his head and keeping up his fingers tapping.

Cross-Posted to AO3

[stealforreal]

Midoriya Izuku - Future kids I

Midoriya Izuku's day just got turned upside down. MIdoriya is slightly ooc, and I'm dissapointed with the quality of this work. I lost inspiration sorry, but here you go anyways.

Midoriya Izuku x f!reader

Warnings: none, maybe slight cussing

It had been a normal day, so far. Class 1-b and 1-a had a joint training session, and everyone was giving it their all. Iida was using his recipico burst against their team's opponents, giving Midoriya time to think up a new plan now that they had been discovered. They had previously planned to use Aoyama's navel laser to lure their opponents to a specific spot, before using Iida to get him away so Midoriya and Todoroki could apprehend them. The plan had unfortunately backfired, since they had captured Aoyama before Iida could get to him. The solid air user from 1-b had gotten him in his hold, and only after Todoroki had gotten him back did they realise how much the rest of the plan would fail. So now Midoriya was tasked with coming up with a new plan.

Todoroki was occupied with holding the others at bay, and Iida was running out of fuel so they wouldn’t be much help. Aoyama was on the brink of his usual stomach ache that followed with overuse, so he was also pretty useless. Even if he wanted too Midoriya knew he was out matched, a 4 v 1 would not end well for him, besides he had to look out for Monoma and his copy quirk. He was so in his head planning that he didn’t see the Copycat sneaking up on him, not before it was too late. He should have felt an impact, Monoma had pointed one of Bakugou’s explosions towards him. But the impact never came, instead he felt himself float in the air hovering over the remaining smoke from the explosion. “Don’t you dare hurt my daddy” A loud girly voice proclaimed, effectively gaining everybody nearby attention.

Turning his attention towards the girly voice, he felt himself freeze up. In the middle of their training field stood a girl around the age of 10, if he had to take a guess. But that wasn’t what caused him to freeze up, no not the fact that this young girl had somehow managed to bypass UA’s security. Which should have been impossible, considering all the improvements that had been made to it after all the villain attacks that had happened. No, what caused him to freeze up was the fact that before him stood this girl, who looked like a carbon copy of him. It seemed that way from this distance. “Who is responsible for holding Midoriya in the air?” Aizawa’s gruff voice rang out. “Oh right, I forgot about that,” The curly green haired girl exclaimed, catching the attention of the slowly increasing crowd. Slowly Midoriya could feel himself being lowered to the ground again, once his feet hit the cement the quirk that had previously held him in the air deactivated making him feel 10 times heavier.

“Who the fuck disturbed the exercise, I’m gonna kill who ever did it” a familiar angry voice yelled out, making Bakugou’s presence noticeable. Everybody was a little on edge, they had enough experience with villains to not foolishly blindly trust anybody. It didn’t matter that it was a 10 year-old girl, or that she looked like a carbon copy of the resident green haired cinnamon roll. “Man, Uncle Katsu you really were loud back in the day” This statement from the green haired girl left everyone speechless. ‘Does she have a death wish’ was the thought on most of 1-A’s minds, nobody was so casual with Bakugou because it was a serious health hazard.

Well everyone except maybe his two best friends, Kirishima and y/n. It was common knowledge in class A that Bakugou had a soft spot for his two best friends, they had honestly been shocked the first time they met her. She had walked into the classroom, blank faced, walked over to Bakugou’s table, smacked him upside the head with a book before leaving it on his desk, and walked out the door with only a quick “don’t forget it next time, Idiot”. Miraculously she had lived, and Bakugou hadn’t even begun yelling. An impressive feat in itself. Not long after Midoriya had begun noticing you around school, and found out you were a part of the support course. He came to know you a bit, his observation skills made that almost too easy. Slowly but surely he began falling in love with you, the way your hair frames your face, your sharp tongue that never held back. How you would stand up for anybody, it didn’t matter if you knew them well or not if they were in trouble you would help them.

“Hah, what was that you brat?” Bakugou’s loud yelling and heavy footsteps approaching snapped him out of his thoughts, and back to the situation at hand. “ W-wait a minute Kacchan, I’m s-sure that there is a logical explanation” He found himself saying before he could even register what happened. Midoriya was hit with an immense feeling of protectiveness, similar to when they had rescued Eri, but stronger. Without knowing he had subconsciously stepped in front of the girl, pushing her behind his back. “Don’t worry dad I can handle myself, besides it’s only uncle Katsu” she spoke up behind the protective cinnamon roll. “Explain now” Aizawa cut in before they could get side tracked again. It was like the fact she hadn’t introduced herself, only hit her now.

“ Right, allow me to introduce myself” Bowing slightly she continued. “ My name is Midoriya Izumi, I am 10 years old and from the future” Aizawa sent her a raised eyebrow, wanting an elaborated answer. “ My friend was being teased by the others in class about how he was quirkless” Izuku tensed slightly but continued listening to Izumi “ Since my friend’s parents each has a quirk related to time, his mom could speed up herself for only a couple of minutes and his dad could slow down others a bit. This made it really hard for my friend to know if he had a quirk or not, so I helped him research and test different theories. Our last one must have worked, which is time travel by the way, but I have no idea how long his quirk will last” Izumi rambled slightly, reminding them of another curly green haired individual. Difference is Izumi talked loud enough for them to hear, and a bit slower making it understandable.

“Wait, you said your name was Midoriya Izumi. Does this mean that you are Midoriya’s daughter” The ever stoic, conspiracy theory thinking, dual haired boy pointed out. “ Yep, sure am uncle Sho, Don’t tell me you don’t see the resemblance.” She stood next to Izuku hugging his waist with one arm, before continuing” I’m dad's younger copy but female, mom always says there is more wholesomeness in him than there is in her. I remember her asking dad one time why his genes were so damn strong. Luckily for her Haru looks a lot more like her, he’s her younger copy but male” The people present looked between the two Midoriyas, it was true nobody could deny that she was her fathers daughter. The only thing that was different was her eyes, they had specks of y/e/c instead of being fully emerald like Izuku’s were. Also she talks a lot, just like their classmate. They shared the same green hair, both were curly in texture and the classic Midoriya freckles. Though it seemed that she had gotten more of her mothers personality, at least they assumed so. I mean she stood up to Bakugou, without even flinching at his tone.

“Oi, squirt what’s your quirk. And quit rambling like shitty Deku” Bakugou asked, interest evident in his tone. “ Right, my quirk is called Telekinesis, so I can move stuff with my mind. It was also how I was able to keep daddy in the air” Izumi responded, puffing her chest out comically in pride. “Huh so it skipped a generation, and your quirk is stronger than my mom’s. But you also have a different approach so maybe that helps. I wonder why yours is stronger, is it because of your mothers quirk. But then again my quirk is also powerful maybe an aspect of it ties to the genes maybe that’s why your quirk is stronger than moms” The older green haired individual began mumbling on, and he probably would have continued if he hadn’t been cut off by his lowly daughter hitting him in the head. “ Daddy stop mumbling,” Izumi stated sternly.

Bakugou grinned, he liked this kid's spunk and she seemed to have a strong quirk, even if she was shitty Deku’s kid. “Oi squirt fight me” He loudly proclaimed, earning all his classmates attention. Almost everyone began yelling over each other, what the hell dude and she just a kid another one was so not manly bro. Instead of being happy her dad’s old classmates were defending her, stopping her uncle from fighting her she got annoyed. So what if she was a child, this wouldn’t be her first time fighting her dad or her uncles. Before everyone could attack Bakugou even more a voice piqued up “ Sure, if that is alright with you sensei” she directed her attention towards Mr. Aizawa.

It wasn’t rational to challenge a child to a fight, but he couldn’t deny she had a great fighting spirit in her eyes. So he allowed it, he was curious himself to see how it would end. The control she displayed earlier was phenomenal, and she was only 10 but she had a lot of potential in his book. He shooed everuýone a bit away from the hothead and the young Midoriya, and so then created a ring of sorts acting a the line of confinement.

3…..2…...1…...GO!

Bakugou charged straight in with his usual right hook, only to have it swiftly caught by Izumi. She grabbed his right hand, squatted down a bit, then swiftly pushed her shoulder into his rib. The momentum of that allowed her to, even with some difficulty, flip his much larger body over her shoulder and into the ground. There was a small second of silence where Bakugou just laid on the ground in shock, a girl over 5 years younger than him just flipped him over her shoulder like it wasn’t even that hard. However Izumi didn’t give him time to think as she sent metal bars towards him. They had been fried earlier, before her arrival. Bakugou used his explosions to evade the metal projectiles, sending another one straight towards her face. Die squirt die, his colorful vocabulary re-entered the scene. She used her Telekinesis to command the explosion to change course and hit Bakugou square in the face instead. Slightly dazed Bakugou didn’t have time to move before a heel connected to his temple, effectively knocking him out.

Everyone who bore witness to this fight was shell shocked, Bakugou lost. The fight lasted only around 8 minutes before the winner of the 1 years sports festival got knocked out by a 10 year old girl. “Huh, that was easier than expected,” the panting girl exclaimed. Izuku could feel his chest swell with pride, that was his daughter. Strong and smart just like her parents. She walked over to Izuku and slumped against him “ I’m tired daddy, carry me” She looked up at him with those doe green eyes, and how could he say no to his little warrior princess. Blushing, he picked her up, and she let out a sigh of contentment. Using her quirk to command things on a molecular level, like Bakugou’s explosions always took a toll on her.

“Midoriya take Izumi to the dorms to let her rest, the rest of you come with me for our next exercise” Mr. Aizawa commanded the frozen teens and teacher. Izuku then began making his way to the dorms, asking his sleepy daughter a tornado of questions. Do you know about my quirk, how does your quirk work, how old is Haru, am I a good dad, who is your mom? Even in her sleepy state Izumi answered his questions to the best of her abilities, though she refused to reveal who her mother was.

When they arrived at the dorms he put her on the living room couch, and went to leave to grab her some old All Might merch that could fit her. Before he could leave she grabbed his cheeks rather harshly, looking him straight in the eye she said “Don’t worry about who mom is, she loves you for you so it's gonna be fine. Also don’t screw this up so I’ll still be born.” Izuku sweat dropped nervously, before getting out of her hold to go find that old merch of his.

When he returned to the living room after finding what he was looking for, he looked around only to find that it was empty. He walked over to the couch and coffee table where he found a note, picking it up and sitting down on the couch to read it. Dearest daddy, I felt tingly so I think the quirk is gonna wear off now. I just wanted to say that you are awesome and the best daddy out there, I love you so much. I’ll see you again in the future - hugs Izumi Midoriya. Izuku’s heart fell, she had only just arrived an hour or so ago and now she was gone. He didn’t get to know his daughter better like he had hoped, and he didn’t get to see her adorably dressed up in his old All Might merch. He read the note over and over again, trying to satisfy his heart. He would see her again in the future, and then it clicked. his heart swelled, yeah he would see Izumu again some day.

Yeah he would see her again when he was married and happy. Yeah he could wait for that, as long as he has too.

@rainypeachbakerygoth

[existential-dread-in-the-am]

@lillybet-the-overlord you asked for this Victor please don't hate me 😅

Ok I'm writing down anything I can think of, these aren't planned around your characters so please use all the necessary creativity and then some to make anything you like better match your work.

(For the rest of you: this is my ideas for Victor's OC's possible dying words and different situations they could be spoken in. It gets very detailed so here's a general trigger warning)

I'm telling you this gets detailed. Do not read this if you're at all sensitive to any form of violence and/or injury. If you're sensitive to only some specific things they're also very probably mentioned here. Even if you're not particularly sensitive to anything specific, proceed with caution as this can still cause fears/nightmares.

Scenarios for cause of death:

Death during a physical figh

1. Characters fight together against a threat, some are lost

-> short last words, one or two words, possibly a name or 'help' or 'no' or words cut short

2. Same as 1 but the whole group dies

-> have a second character hearing these words also get injured and/or die because of the split-second distraction for extra emotional damage to reader

-> either a surprise attack or forced to fight a hopeless fight, or the tables turn on the group during something they've planned (plans gone wrong)

-> small groups work best here, otherwise too many characters

->even shorter last words (unless some characters are hiding and can actually talk) (these words can be trying to warn others or direct them but fail to do so)

-> go through each character's last moments one by one using both first person and observer perspective for max emotional damage

-> slow down your pace once you get to the last one(s?) standing. Consider adding internal monologue or even dialogue or just description of the surroundings, situation and/or emotions. Make this moment calmer and more...poetic? before you end the last character's life

3. Character vs character

-> consider having the last one(s?) captured for a time instead, you can use this character as bait for future plot points to make more characters suffer

-> one needs to be the challenger aka the one initiating violence

-> for extra emotional damage give challenger an unjust but powerful motive and favor the non-challenger's pov then have the challenger win and the non-challenger lose

->also for extra emotional damage have either one or both participants unwilling to harm the other but forced to

-> ending: for max emotional damage, two possibilities: either end it coldly and cruelly in the unjust challenger's victory with then having no sympathy for the other OR have the winner completely emotionally broken about the other's death and frantically apologising out loud or just in their mind. Alternately have the one who killed be very very gentle with the other and comfort them while they pass away

-> last words ideas:

-have the dying character try and fail to speak due to injury

-confident angry 'I won't let you win!' or 'this is for [insert anything]!' while still in good condition, immediately followed by a fatal hit full stop

-dying character pleading the other to spare [insert loved ones or their people] followed by...well. cold denial of the request and/or the other describing what's going to8 happen to them next. possibly followed by an insincere or empty 'sorry'

Post-fight death bc of injury

->> this can be followed by furious empty threats from the dying character, and then finally, silence.

1. Death by head injury

(It's almost always bc of bleeding, internal or external. Sometimes head injury or a crushed or punctured lung causes death faster but those don't leave much room for words. Bleeding leaves between a few seconds to minutes to maybe an hour of coherency depending on severity. Useful bc a character can win a fight but still drop dead immediately after)

2. Death by neck/spine injury

-> character is barely oriented and mumbling something usually not quite intelligible. Maybe reaching out for a loved one trying and trying to say their name but ultimately failing. Max impact when character falls to the ground and instantly drops dead.

-> this one's creepy. Character walks forward and moves and talks normally as if fine when they move calmly and slowly, but when they're started by something towards their side and suddenly turn to look, they drop like a stone. Dislocated neck, spinal cord permanently offline.

-> possible for character to have an entire conversation before just. dropping dead.

(This is what sometimes happens in car accidents)

3. Death by crushed/pierced lung

->results in oxygen deprivation, basically same mechanism as death by asphyxiation but slower

-> character's ability to speak is limited or gone

-> technically a human can survive on with one functioning lung but pair this with bleeding out or being stuck in a small space that keeps their chest from expanding enough, or inhaling smoke/dust, and the character is done for. There's not enough air to cough the dust out, it builds up.

->absolutely fantastic setting for character 2 trying to keep character 1 alive and telling them to not talk and trying to give hope while character 1 tries to use their remaining oxygen to get their last message out (have character 2 too upset and preoccupied with trying to save a life to focus on the message for extra emotional damage)

4. Bleeding to death

-fast:

-> a few minutes of coherency, sometimes just one. Major bones and/or arteries damaged. One example: enough damage to your thing will break both a major bone and a major artery, both enough to kill you in minutes alone, but together?

(Tip: shoulder injuries and blows to your middle can cause a surprisingly serious amount of internal bleeding)

-> the character will feel very weak and dizzy while standing up, and also lying down but less so. They won't remain standing for long.

-> enough time for a short conversation, usually about feeling unwell along the lines of 'help me' possibly followed by frantic 'I can't see what's wrong you look fine' by second character. It'll look like bruising and swelling at most in this time frame.

-> also possible to have this character's opponent/enemy sit next to them and watch them struggle against pain and eventually unconsciousness

-slow:

-> character can hide pain and dizziness for days but it worsens gradually. It'll still look like bruising

->can worsen very suddenly

->also if there's a head injury it might be nothing first then suddenly the same as part 1 a day or two later, or a gradually worsening headache possibly with problems with vision/hearing/functioning and so on

->character will likely have changed location from where they got injured, either to the company of friends or enemies. The former will likely have the character seeking help -> last words can be goodbye to them or ???? Something? While in the later scenario the character will probably be hiding their injuries to the end until they're too tired to care, depending on what kind of people we're talking about the character might either curse at them or be pleading. Possibly neither.

(Two ideas I like especially: 1. Character's last words are to a loved one who isn't there, and 2. The character's captors don't want the character to suffer/die, they didn't mean for things to go like this, they thought the character was fine -> their last conversation is between the character and their captor who's trying but failing to help)

5. All of these can be applied to accidents which cause similar injuries, the only thing that changes is who's around

-> an enemy may use an accident as an opportunity to let the character die or harm them when they're vulnerable. Example: character gets stuck under a falling tree but isn't crushed and can somewhat breathe. Character 2 then proceeds to first taunt and then stab them (examples: in the side/chest to pierce 1 lung to leave them to die slowly OR faster)

Death by illness/prolonged death by injury

->bed. They'll be where they sleep

->possibly caused by infection from injuries from a fight, or just something more mundane

->surrounded by enemies? Vs surrounded by loved ones? Completely alone?

->character will be in much discomfort and will pause to focus on surviving pain between or in the middle of sentences and words

->enough time for a conversation. Last words are likely a full sentence, they really depend on what the character's background is.

Examples:

-> 'are [insert other character(s) names] ok?' -> yes -> 'good...' *dies*

OR -> no -> 'where are they I have to get to them - I have to - to - [insert name]...' *dies*

-> (to character 2, real or imaginary) 'I'm so tired [insert name]...it hurts...I can't anymore I can't...just make it stop...' *suffers for hours unable to speak coherently anymore before finally succumbing to their condition*

[fanartfunart]

A fic where Ocarina of Time is a big time loop, instead of splitting the timeline. (post MM) Link meets Sheik in the Lost Woods. (some big OoT Spoilers)

A sequel to Time & Time Again (It isn’t 100% required to read it to understand this tho)

Ao3

--

The woods were unusually quiet. He heard no laughter or song of the Korkiri. It made it harder to travel through the Lost Woods than usual. But he knew his forest. Link traced his fingers along the rough bark of some of the trees. "This way" the forest whispered. It was difficult to understand, like catching the fog. But the forest knew him. The forest was kind to it's children.

He kept his eyes trained on the canopy, hoping for some fresh food to bring back to the village. As long as it wasn't magic, he imagined the forest wouldn't mind. It hadn't actively tried to stop him. It clearly understood his intentions.

He heard a soft rustle in a nearby bush. He pulled out his sword, inching closer. The stranger to the forest heard him in return. Sheik lept out of the bushes, blocking his sword arm and sending him flying backwards with a kick. Link barely managed to shift into a tumble and regain his footing.

He took in a breath, analyzing his opponent. (No, his old friend.) Blood rushed in his ears. A drum of battle he was all too familiar with. He felt like a tightly coiled spring, either about to snap or leap away. He smothered the realization he had started automatically looking for weak points. (It was Sheik, not an enemy. Not a demon or monster.)

The Sheikah meanwhile, had shifted into a ready stance, eyes widening as he actually looked at Link. They stared at each other. Tense. Sheik was looking at him as if just waiting for him to strike.

A familiar feeling crinkled against his chest and into his throat. Uncomfortable and raw. Sheik was scared of him. Sheik was created to fight and hide. Of course he expected Link, a stranger by all accounts, to attack. Link sheathed his sword with a sigh, forcing himself to loosen his posture. The grass swayed against his feet, soothing, reassuring.

It was quiet for a moment too long.

“Lost?” he asked.

Sheik tilted his chin up, as if affronted by the implication, “...No, of course not.”

"Ah, of course not.... I will have to see you in town later sometime then." Link said, beginning to walk away. Careful to be slow enough for Sheik to have plenty of time to make his choice.

"Wait!" Sheik, raced after him, eyes flickering around the trees, “What are you doing out here? These woods aren’t the safest place to be wandering.”

Link glanced backwards at him, shrugging, “Gathering things for the villagers in Kakarikio.” He hitched up his backpack higher on his shoulder. He could feel the blond’s eyes watching him, analyzing him.

“Who are you?”

“A traveler,” Link said.

“Oh, how specific,” he muttered sarcastically. Sheik was suddenly in front of him, walking backwards. Red eyes flickered across his face. “I thought you looked like that to get me to lower my guard but... you-” Sheik poked his nose. Link leaned back, ears flicking involuntarily.

“What was that for?” Link huffed, ignoring the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “My face is my actual face, yes.”

Sheik grabbed his hand, looking at the glow of the triforce. Link frowned at his hand. That hadn't happened in a long time. He barely registered they had halted. Just the ominous thump in his chest as he stared at the glowing force. Sheik looked up at him, “Link?”

He jolted his head up to look at Sheik. His red eyes were wide, expextant...hopeful. He nodded, “Nice to see you again, Sheik.”

“Are you- ....From the future?” Sheik whispered, eyes tracing the scars on his face with a light frown.

“Er...” Link hummed, “Yes and no? This is my second time around in this particular part of time. Grew up the normal way this time though.”

Sheik gasped, “So you did it? You won?”

Link just smiled and started foraging again. Sheik followed him.

“How? Are you here to help? You know what happens, right?”

“I don’t think learning too much about your future is particularly wise, oh carrier of the Triforce of Wisdom.”

“But if you help can’t we get this over with so much faster?” Sheik grabbed his arm, pulling him to yet another halt. He stared into his eyes, searching, “You can’t tell me you’re just here to gather things.”

“I tried to stop it from happening before, when I was a child. It didn’t do anything. If anything it made things worse...” Link sighed, “Your people need outside aid, your Highness. I can’t...won't help defeat Ganon this time, but I can gather supplies.”

Sheik let go of his arm, and to his surprise, tugged down the face mask. “You know who I am.”

“Yes, Sheik, don’t worry about it. I won’t tell.”

Sheik looked down at the ground. “Thank you,” he whispered.

He shrugged. "Besides. I think I prefer your hair like this. Very adventure-chic. Or should I say adventure-Sheik?”

The blond gasped, blushing. He punched his shoulder. (It bruised a little, admittedly.) “That’s horrible.”

“You’re one to talk. Don’t you have some poetry to recite for Mini Me?”

“Mini?” Sheik giggled, “You both look basically the same.”

“I gotta call him something.” Link shrugged, “The phrase ‘my younger self’ is a bit long.”

“Try harder.” He hummed, “Besides, my poems are brilliant.”

“Never said they weren’t.”

Sheik shook his head with some sense of amusement. That amusement faded as he glanced up at his face again. “...Are those...”

“From Ganon? No.” Link said, “I had a very interesting little adventure all on my own in Termina.” He glanced in the direction of the other country, wind fluttering through the leaves. “Most of the scars from Ganon disappeared when I was sent back in time.”

It was Zelda’s voice, not Sheik’s, that spoke next. “I... I’m sorry. That I roped you into- all of this. You deserved a... kinder childhood.”

Link stared at the ground. He took a moment to find his voice, “...So did you.”

Zelda stared at him, eyes round and wide. Her hands fidgeted, clasped in front of her. Lost for what to do or say, she tugged up the face mask. Sheik bowed gently, “I thank you for everything, Link of the Future."

“Grasshopper.”

“Huh?” Sheik blinked.

“If you needed a name to differentiate me and the kid. That’s the name he knows me by.”

Sheik snorted, “I’m not calling you that."

Link shrugged. His ears flicked as he picked up the light bell like ting of a fairy. The specific tone he'd know anywhere. "...Did you need to find the Forest Temple?"

Sheik glanced around, quiet for a moment, "I can always use magic to get there.... If I was lost. Which I'm not."

"But you want to do that cool entrance, right?"

Sheik shuffled his feet, "You think- thought it was cool?"

Link just chuckled, "Follow me," Link said, walking ahead.

"Seriously did you think it was cool? What did I do?"

"You already have it planned why would I tell you what you're going to do?"

"What if it's different and what I actually did was cooler than what I think I should do?"

"That makes no sense."

"Just tell me and I'll tell you if that's what I originally had in mind. Do you still remember my poem?"

"It was 7 years ago from my perspective. You expect me to remember exactly what you said and did?"

"....But you remember it was cool."

"Never said that."

"You implied it strongly."

Link laughed, and the Forest giggled with him. A chorus of rustling leaves. It remembered him as well as he remembered it, it seemed. He traced a finger along bark as he watched the forest unfold itself for him. "Sorry," he hoped to say through the gentle touch, "Sorry I took so long to come home."

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 06 part two

(Masterpost)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Bathing Boy Beauties

So, now we and Wei Wuxian get to see Lan Wangji with his shirt off. Eventually Lan Wangji will realize that his brother set this up, and will think of some way to get back at him, possibly by spending three years being stubborn in a cave or maybe by chopping an arm off of someone his brother cares about. 

This is A+ Yibo fanservice but it's also a male-male version of a trope that's ubiquitous in c-drama, in which the male lead takes a bath and the female lead sees him. The purpose of the scene is almost always so a woman can look a man’s body over and decide, not to put too fine a point on it, whether she wants to fuck him. 

Examples:

The Pillow Book - “Which part of Shen Ye is better than me?”

Women’s sexual agency is not often at the forefront in c-dramas, but the bathtub scenes are an acknowledgement of the female gaze, and of male objects of desire being subject to evaluation & approval.

Tientsin Mystic is a show with a lot of muscley swimming in it, In case you’re looking for your next Netflix show. 

As a CGI artist I have to mention that water does not reflect or refract 100% of light. If you look at a naked dingle-having person in a bathtub full of clear water you will definitely be able to see their dingle. But C-drama water is magic and nothing is visible below the waterline, to the point that Bai Yu is modestly covering his thoracic surgery scar chest in Detective L while leaving his lower half uncovered.

Note: that caption isn’t fake; she is really saying this on her way out the door, after having a long chat with him in the bathroom. You can find the whole series on YouTube.

Seen in this context, The Untamed’s two bathing scenes are saying quite a lot. Wei Wuxian, being a boy, doesn’t display any female-encoded shyness or modesty, but he and his sword pause for a moment of admiration.

(more after the cut!)

16 years later, Lan Wangji will sit quietly in this pool and let Wei Wuxian examine his wet body thoroughly from multiple angles, in a more prolonged invocation of this C-drama mating ritual.

Carrying on - was Xiao Zhan supposed to kick his boot in the water like that? Because if not, he rolls with it like a champ.

Wei Wuxian starts trying to be direct with Lan Wangji, giving him the worst, most neg-filled compliment ever, bless his heart.  

Then he says that there are benefits to being his friend, and starts taking off his clothes.

Wei Wuxian here takes his first step into the bold new world of respecting Lan Wangji’s boundaries, asking Lan Wangji to stay and saying he will keep his clothes on. 

Lan Wangji actually does stay, so he's apparently not too angry with Wei Wuxian about the drinking. Wei Wuxian invites him to visit Lotus Pier sometime (see my gifset here), but the promise of lotus pods doesn’t impress him. Then Wei Wuxian tries to tell him that the Yunmeng chicks really knock me out, they leave the rest behind. This also doesn’t impress him. 

You could read this macking-on-ladies talk as a sign that Wei Wuxian is oblivious to LWJ's feelings for him. But I read it as a bisexual boy being horny on main with a boy he likes, not  understanding yet that some boys don’t share all of his turn-ons.

Lan Wangji is sort of mildly startled when Wei Wuxian disappears under the water. His eye makeup is good here, isn’t it?.

Ice Cave

They end up in an ice cave and both spend the rest of the episode showing how good they look with wet hair. 

When the guqin starts attacking, Lan Wangji is only mildly perturbed about Wei Wuxian getting his shit rocked over and over.

Eventually he sends Bichen to protect his very bedraggled date. Lan Wangji’s sword is faster than the speed of a very slow sound wave.

Beauty's where you find it not just where you bump and grind it 

Gusuship Down

I feel like there are a couple of things in this show that are so problematic the fandom has silently agreed to never discuss them. Well, I’m here to talk about this one:

There are rabbits in this ice cave and they are wearing headbands. HEADbands. On RABBits.  

EXCELLENT FUCKING QUESTION, LAN WANGJI

*deep breath*

Are these rabbits lineal Lan descendants? Who makes the headbands? How do they stay on because “headband” here means “glowing cloud on forehead” without any actual band.  When rabbit babies are born, how do they stay safe while they’re waiting for someone to make them baby-sized headbands? Do these rabbits adhere to the other 3499 Lan Clan principles or just the headband one? Is any ol' rabbit allowed to touch a rabbit’s headband or is it limited to parents and significant others and is that even relevant when presumably these bunnies are all fucking each other like...bunnies?

The characters are like “oh, the rabbits are wearing headbands; killer guqin problem solved.” And then they move right the fuck along with their lives and the rabbit headbands are never seen or discussed again and I just want a hit of whatever the author or creative team was smoking when they came up with this whole idea.

Headband Sharing

When Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji to hand over his headband, Lan Wangji understands his entire rabbit-based thought process without asking

Gen-X Joke Alert

Wei Wuxian is awfully impressed by this sword-recall trick, considering that he did it himself when they went to the lake.

I see you know your way around a sheath

Killer Guqin

When they approach the guqin I hope that the subtitles are mistranslated, because Wei Wuxian keeps promising not to touch it and then says he can't look at it without touching it. I'm not going to touch it, I just need to touch it. 

Lan Wangji is going to teach Wei Wuxian some goddamn boundaries no matter how many times he has to make him fondle his sword.

Nothing suggestive here

Lan Wangji sits down to play the guqin and immediately goes off into the ether where there are seagull noises and plenty of fans. This is either a state of pure bliss, or he just really likes seagulls.

Did Lan Wangji just have a stealth orgasm?

Speaking of getting off, get your ass off of my desk

The Yin Iron

Lan Wangji does some spirit whispering, and suddenly the cave starts yelling at them. A bunch of clans are chanting in unison about a plan, which is the cultivator version of a battle cry.

Lancestor Lan Yi shows up. She is elegant and has a combination of sweetness and gravity that is similar to Lan Xichen’s. And none of Lan Qiren’s douchiness.

Search Party

Lan Qiren is worried and Lan Xichen is worried and they have sent people to look for the boys. It's really too bad nobody around here knows magic.

All these powerful cultivators search for missing people by running around outdoors yelling for them. 

Yanli is excused from PE class because she’s not feeling well, so she sits on a rock in the woods instead of, you know, staying home in the first place. She gets bored sitting down and unwisely decides to walk two or three steps. Xuan Lu, seen here competing in a gymnastics event, gamely pretends she can’t climb a small rock. 

Yanli falls into Jin Zixuan's arms and they gaze at each other for a long heterosexual moment. 

No homosexual explanation possible

This means two things: 1. he isn't looking very hard for her brother if he's hanging out here catching wobbly girls 2. soulful longing looks from him ain't shit, because he's going to dump her in the next episode.

Lanny Granny

Lan Wangji intros himself to Lan Yi and does a full prostrate bow. Wei Wuxian does a standing bow since he's not a descendant, just a future in-law.

No I mean come on, HEADBANDS

Lan Gran explains the entire history of the yin iron. It's bad, it's full of resentful energy, no-one should use it. She’s going to dump it on a couple of 16 year old boys, one of whom has a woody for using resentful energy, because it’s destiny and her battery is about to run out. 

Props to the Prop Department; this thing does look pretty cool

Xue Chonghai was the most problematic cultivator back in the old days. He killed a lot of dudes and fed their resentment to...a turtle? To the disk? I don’t know; I literally am unable to pay attention when anyone is explaining the intricacies of the unobtanium Yin Iron. 

Anyway there’s a disk and it’s soaked up a lot of resentment.  

Using it makes people evil. Well except..clearly this dude started off evil, yeah? If he was feeding people to his turtle.

Side effects may include: being fucking crazy

Here Wei Wuxian brings out his "resentful energy is awesome" theory and has an experienced grown-up grand master tell him that she also thought this, and has spent 100 years locked in a cave with headband-wearing rabbits because she was super fucking wrong. Does this deter him? ...nope

Baoshan Sanren

Now she name checks Baoshan Sanren, and Wei Wuxian has a big reaction and Lan Wangji has a big noticing of Wei Wuxian’s reaction. He’s very attuned to Wei Wuxian’s emotional state, in the moments where WWX lets his actual feelings show through the sass and swagger.  

Lan Gran talks about her search for the Yin iron, and Lan Wangji wisely says, if you can't neutralize it, why look for it? And she says, I was filled with hubris just like ya boi Wei Wuxian.  Lan Wangji points out the exact same shit he will later point out to Wei Wuxian.

So now we have a parallel in which Lan Yi is just like Wei Wuxian and Baoshan Sanren is just like Lan Wangji, yeah? Which is kind of sweet; it shows how these types are drawn together and how your clan doesn't determine your personality. Also it shows how the Lan clan has room for an unorthodox clan leader. Also it shows how the Yin Iron causes some really bad breakups. 

These boys are standing on snow barefoot which has got to take a pretty high cultivation level. Look how short Lan Wangji is without his stilettos, aww.

Flashback to Baoshan Sanren, just long enough to appreciate how beautiful she is.

Did OP give up on recoloring that flashback-blue-hazed image and just start fucking around with random filters? Yes she did. 

We also get to see that Lan Yi and Lan Wangji have more common than just guqin, because they both like to solve problems by kicking them.  

So after breaking up with her girlfriend, Lan Gran became invisible in this cave for 100 years while trying to contain the Yin iron and put headbands on rabbits. 

Soundtrack: Vogue by Madonna Writing prompt: Watership Down rabbits meet Lan rabbits

Bonus extended bath clip:

Bai Yu, Detective L

[katsukavi]

I wanted to make this a full fanfiction on my wattpad, but I didn’t want to disappoint everyone with the super slow updates (like my scumlord lol) so.. here’s crap I pulled out of my notes called arise, undead (“pretty obsessed” sung jin-woo x male, zombie reader) I also really like the options I have in tumblr lol. I’m a little embarrassed to add tags because I’m not sure if people will like it and stuff.. But yeah! This is the book cover I made for it here too! :D

Im having too much fun with these new stuff~ (please excuse me. this is my first long post and i love everything here—)

(spoilers)

The plot is that Jin-Woo finds an undead in the woods, tries to arise him and it does work. Now they fight together because the zombie has no memories and is literally immortal (yet dead). Near the end, they discover that MC was murdered and his body was buried in the woods yada yada. Then when Jin-Woo goes back, he has to save him. But, he has to save MC as a 15 year old while MC is a 27 year old..

(I planned that part out and I think it’s a little funny how suddenly a kid approaches you like “You’re going to die if you go somewhere. Come with me, I’m your lover from the future.”

“Ah, it’s a chuunibyou.. Sorry kid, but I need to go to work—“

“No.”

‘Alive or not, MC still looks like a zombie.. Why are you so overworked?!’)

IT WAS SUNG JIN-WOO’S FIRST TIME using his new job skills, so naturally he’d get excited in testing every single little thing about it. He just exited the purple hued portal behind him, feeling like he acquired an interesting new toy to play with. Even though he was tired from the lack of sleep, his joy kept him from passing out.

Either it was that, or the rain pouring over his head. All his excitement flushed into disappointment as his shoes got muddy from the damp forest foor and his clothes getting completely soaked in rainwater. It would be impossible to pass out with the loud thunder rumbling in the background.

He cursed with every step on his path, finding it hard to walk with the slippery and uneven soil, his vision blurry from water and dark skies and his body dragging itself against harsh rain. Unfortunately, he was also already very exhausted.

Out of all the times for a thunderstorm, why did it have to be right after the job change quest?

From behind the trees, he heard a low distorted roar—forcing him to dip his head towards it’s direction. He held a dagger in one hand, trying to make out its shape from behind the trees.

It was in a humanoid shape, making him relax just a little bit. “Is anyone there?” he questioned.

His voice seemed to reach the stranger as they left their hiding spot in the trees’ shade. The person looked to be a man wearing a formal suit, diluted blood marking over his chest and face. Even though he looked human, he didn’t seem to breathe, just limply staring at Jin-Woo with a blank and lifeless expression.

Strangely, the stranger’s (s/c) skin was pale, like blood hasn’t been pumping through his veins. But attacking a person because they looked really sick wasn’t a good thing, it’s like attacking an overworked person because they looked so dead. It was either it was too dark or the view was too blurry.

“Hello?” Jin-Woo called out one time, staying cautious from the stranger. It lunged at Jin-Woo with a raspy growl, nearly scratching his face. Jin-Woo ducked, a small scratch appearing on his face from the speed. It definitely wasn’t human.

Sung Jin-Woo was already fatigued, at a disadvantage with the location as well. He cursed, barely dodging every slash thrown at him. “Igris!” he called out, the shadow materialising from behind him. Igris grabbed the humanoid monster, a splash of mud splattering around as it was thrown.

Sung Jin-Woo stabbed it deep in the chest, not a single drop of blood spilling out as he stepped back to breathe. He put his hands on his knees, staring at the lifeless corpse as he sent Igris back. ‘It seems pretty strong.. Should I extract it?’

He took a deep breath, getting closer to the body as he raised his hand. His posture was elegant, holding a composed expression as droplets of rain streamed down his attractive face, adding to his charm. A deep and soothing voice left his mouth, sending chills to anyone who would hear it.

“Arise.”

Though unfortunately, the Shadow Monarch was greeted with nothing but silence and the sound of ambient rain. That’s odd, if it was a failed extraction then a notification would pop up to let him know or something. Was the system suddenly broken? If that’s the case, he should try again.

“Arise.. arise. ARISE!” he shouted multiple times, but a shadow didn’t get extracted. He furrowed his brows, squatting down to find out the cause of his skill suddenly breaking. “Why isn’t it working..?” he mumbled under his breath, getting closer to the body with a puzzled look on his face.

“Arise. Arise. Arise arise arise. Wake up. Rise and shine. Arise. Awake. Good morning. Arise.”

“I’m not dead yet, dimwit.”

Did the body just.. talk back to him?

“You didn’t hear anything,” Jin-Woo blurted out, getting embarrassed from the montage of Arise and synonyms he was saying to something that was alive. He stabbed the body once again, trying to kill it as he attempted once more. “Arise.”

“You don’t have to try again. I’m not dead,” the man just sat up like it was just his average tuesday, sliding out the blade from his chest, handing it to Jin-Woo and dusting off his clothes. The undead just raised his head towards the sky, watching clouds part as he lifted his palm, no more droplets landing on top of it. “Oh, the rain is clearing up.”

“Excuse me. Didn’t you just try to attack me?”

“Did I? I don’t remember,” the stranger scratched the back of his neck, looking bored as he yawned. “My name is (L/n) (M/n), age 27. And you are?”

“Sung Jin-Woo, 24.”

“Nice meeting you. Now where in the hell am I?”

/////////////////////////////

(L/N) (M/N) HAD A NASTY SCOWL on his face, plopping the sewing kit on Jin-Woo’s bed as he angrily tried to open it with one arm. Unfortunately, someone had cut off his right arm that he spent ages trying to sew back on.

“What next, my leg?” he cursed under his breath as Sung Jin-Woo opened it for him. “Wait a minute,” Jin-Woo said, sticking the end of his arm to his shoulder. “Hold this,” he said, making (M/n) keep his limb in one place as he put the thread in the needle.

“What?” The zombie still looked very angry, knitting his brows together as he held still. “I thought you needed a hand,” Jin-Woo lightly joked, trying to make (M/n)’s mood towards him a little better. The undead male gave him his signature dead stare, tightly holding his severed upper arm before speaking.

“Jin-Woo, I am dead serious here.”

He started to lightly chuckle, noticing that Sung Jin-Woo was almost finished with sewing his arm back on his body. “Hey, you’re pretty good at this.” His remark made Jin-Woo smile as he opened and closed his hand, almost as if it was brand new.

“My clothes kept getting ripped when I was E-Rank. I learned naturally.”

“The next time you rip off my limbs, please fix them too,” (M/n) said, flailing his right hand in the air with satisfaction.

“Well next time. I’m sure I’ll make you mine.”

“I doubt that.”

///////////////////////////// (now it’s just random dialogues i pulled out of my idea dump lol)

“OH HECK! There goes my leg!”

“Oh no... He’s dead! It’s not like I’m happy about it or anything~! ...Arise arise arise arise—“

“IM NOT DEAD!”

“God damn it.. Jin-Woo, could you go fetch my torso, and my arms and my legs and uh.. my head. Yes, thank you.”

“You don’t have a heartbeat and your skin is ice cold. I stabbed you 32 times. How are you still moving?”

“Dunno, ask Jesus.”

“I CAN’T BREATHE! I’M DYING.”

“You don’t breathe, (M/n).”

“Oh yeah, you’re right.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you want me dead or if you want me alive. Which one is it?”

“Either way is fine as long as you’re mine.”

“Gross, necrophiliac.”

“Good night, (M/n).”

“Good night, Jin-Woo..”

“Alright.. arise arise arise arise arise arise arise—“

“Once again, I am not dead.”

“You’re not useless, (M/n). Because when you die, I WILL MAKE YOU MY SHADOW.”

“HOW IS THAT SUPPOSED TO COMFORT ME?!”

[abysscronica]

Hiii! I was reading some of your recent answers and had a quick question! So, basically we know that Kid probably doesn’t start caring about birdie for quite a while, but why was he never like actually…hurting her when they had sex? Like even in the torture night, in his mind wouldn’t it have just been justified to ignore her when she asked him to slow down? Especially since it’s established he’s a sadist. The same situation right before the Daifuku attack as well. He actually seems almost, like, gentle with her there, and it really has me wondering. I aways kind of saw him not realizing he cares until she saves him and he tells her to go (been a bit since reading, so could totally be wrong here)

My second question actually has to do with the manga…so imo it seems likely Kid may be headed towards Blackbeard’s island (assuming Luffy goes to Elbaf and Law to Vira), and that’s…worrying to me. It seems like a real possibility that Oda will kill Kid off to showcase Luffy’s nemesis’ strength for the endgame. I guess, how likely do you think this is? It has me pretty worried for his crew 😬

I'll answer the canon question first!

First of all, is it confirmed that Kid is headed to Hachinosu Island? From my understanding, the map below was drawn by Oda himself in 2021. Assuming this is true, it looks to me like Law is the one heading toward Hachinosu island, Luffy is going to Sphinx island and Kid is going to... Elbaf!

But this could be inaccurate, there could be other islands in between that are yet to be revealed and Oda can do whatever he wants basically.

Where Kid is sailing to matters A LOT in terms of his future in the manga. If he's in fact heading to Hachinosu, then I'm afraid you may be right. After reading the latest chapters of Wano, I'm slightly more optimistic that I used to be, but my fears for Kid's destiny did not vanish. I talked about it in this post.

ON THE OTHER HAND, if he's actually going to Elbaf, this changes the cards immensely! We all know that the SH are meant to go there and it's a common theory that it'll be in the next arc (since we don't have many left) -- that would mean Kid could be one of the major players there. Maybe Oda is thinking of giving him some solo time with the SH like he did to Law, possibly (finally) showing us his backstory too? That'd be great, although I'm a bit hesitant to dive in so much hope. As I mentioned, there's not much time left, Kid isn't nearly as popular as Law (and this matters a lot to the editors, therefore it has quite some impact on the direction of the manga), and having Kid there means having to dedicate some space to Killer and the Kid Pirates as well. Let's not forget Law's crew was shoved aside and absent most of the time when the sexy surgeon was around.

I guess we'll have to wait and see!

Edit: I am probably wrong. According to the map drawn by Oda, Law is going to Elbaf and Kid is going to Hachinosu (check the katakana and ignore the translation, it's wrong). goddammit.

Now onto the 'Kid/birdie' matter.

That's a legit question. Why wouldn't Kid be a brutal jailor to birdie in the early stages of her captivity, as he would be with any other prisoner? And the thing is... he doesn't even know why.

We've seen it a few times: Kid starts with some (horrible) intentions, and then he ends up doing something else.

The first night they were together, for example, he was gonna go all out but then not only he warns her, giving her a way out for a moment, but he also takes notice of her fears and tries to make it easier for her. Then there's the torture night, he even claims he was planning on torturing her viciously, but then he "changes his mind" (his words). He always acts on a whim, and remains confused afterward - remember the famous "You are the one messing with my mind"? Kid doesn't understand why he can't follow through with his ruthless intents with birdie, there's just something about this woman that pushes him toward a different direction.

You said it yourself:

I aways kind of saw him not realizing he cares until she saves him and he tells her to go

Exactly, he doesn't realize. That doesn't mean that he didn't care before.

And with "care" I don't mean "love", of course, it's way too early to use that word - but there's still something about her. You can call it chemistry, attraction, intrigue, respect, whatever you want. But something was there already.

[justcourttee]

Call It What You Want-One Shot Song Prompt

So, I recently saw @marimacaron​ post this song prompt fic for daminette and I absolutely loved it and knew I had to try and write it! I hope it’s close to what you imagined :)

Marinette’s eyes fell to the glittering rock on her left hand, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she hit post on her computer. Within seconds, hundreds of comments and likes flooded her Instagram from fans and friends alike, most wishing her well for her engagement, a few earning a chuckle at their distress that she was now ‘off the market’.

She reached forward to shut her laptop when one comment in particular caught her eye.

@alyabloglyfe: Why are you still vying for attention? We all know @queenlyla is engaged to Damian Wayne, I mean, why would he be interested in a liar and bully like you?

Already, twenty fans were fighting the girl’s comment, dissing Alya and defending Marinette’s honor, but it didn’t seem to help the punch to the gut she was experiencing. Her fingers lingered over the keyboard, the room seeming to blur around her.

All of a sudden, she felt fifteen again, trapped in her bedroom only being able to scroll through the hate mail that flooded her inbox from all of her former friends. She thought that begging her parents to allow her to pull out of school and switch to an online platform would deter them from attacking her so often, but it only made things worse as they became more confident and vile in their bullying as they could hide behind a screen.

Every night, Marinette would cry herself to sleep wondering what she did so wrong to deserve all of this until one day she decided it would be enough. She deleted all of her social media, even taking down her MDC commissions page, asking her clients to meet her in person or via phone call to schedule fittings and commissions. And it worked, at least for a little while, until they started to vandalize her parent’s bakery, breaking windows and spray painting signs, the cops never seeming to catch them.

Her fingers tapped out the first sentence of her response, her eyes absentmindedly glazed over as she wrote a paragraph, then two, all directed to Alya. She was about to hit send when she felt a pair of arms snake around her shoulders, warm breath tickling the back of her ears.

“How’d your fans take the news?” his deep voice felt like a lifeline as she slammed her laptop shut, blinking away the empty feeling Alya had brought.

He let out a low whistle as he unwinded himself, allowing her to stand up from the desk and fall into his outstretched arms.

“That good, huh?”

She forced out a dry laugh as she buried her face into his chest.

“Just a few people upset that I’m officially a taken woman.”

It was his turn to laugh as she pulled back, taking in the sight of his carefree face. It was always so beautiful, so much peace that he held, all reserved for her.

“Do you have any plans tonight? You know Richard will want to host an exaggerant engagement feast.” He rolled his eyes, but his smile gave him away. She knew he secretly loved being the center of attention, especially when it came to his family.

“I’ll make sure to have everything done by 5 today, promise.”

Ducking under his arms, she slung her purse over her head, making a beeline for the door.

“Do you need Alfred to escort you?” he called after her retreating figure but it was too late, she was gone.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Exiting the fabric store, Marinette made her way down Gotham’s winding streets, her head in another place as she tried to recall anything she could’ve missed.

“This is why you should’ve brought your list with you Marinette!” Tikki popped their head out of her purse, their arms crossed in a scolding manner.

“I would have Tikki, but you know how overprotective he is. He would’ve insisted I waited for Alfred to come down to the apartment to drive me and no offense to Alfred, but sometimes a girl just wants to be alone.”

Her pace slowed as a familiar landscape came into her sight.

“Oh wow Tikki, I haven’t been here in almost three years.” her voice trailed off as she scanned over the construction crew working on the new gymnasium.

“Gotham Academy! This is where you transferred to right?”

She didn’t answer the small God as she took a step forward, placing a hand on the elegant banisters leading up the school stairs. The fresh scent of cleaning supplies filled her nostrils as she closed her eyes, her mind falling back to the comment from earlier.

She was only sixteen when her parents allowed her to transfer. It was in both of their best interests as they couldn’t afford to keep repairing the bakery her former friends destroyed. She was a mere shell of a person when she entered those doors for the first time. She had already decided that she wasn’t going to make any friends this time around, after all, no friends meant no one to stab her in the back, as they all do eventually.

But then something strange happened. The student who was assigned to show her around for the first week was just as cold and calculated. His thorns were just as sharp as hers, neither opening up much to the other. She had planned for warm and inviting, the fake friends trying to pry her open, but she hadn’t planned for someone to hold her attention, someone as cold as her.

One week turned into two, and then a month passed and she dared to consider him her friend.

“Marinette? Marinette? Are you still in there?”

She slowly opened her eyes to a concerned kwami, Tikki’s small hands shaking her nose to the best of their ability.

“I’m fine Tikki, just a bit of reminiscing I suppose.”

Continuing again, Marinette soon found herself in front of her studio. The little bell rang through the place as ten heads popped up, all wearing bright smiles. Unique almost tackled her in a hug before the door had even closed.

“Marinette! We were so excited when you posted this morning! It was sooo hard keeping your relationship a secret when customers asked!”

Hannah and Brooke nodded in agreement as the girls all left their work stations to admire her ring.

“Can we help you design your wedding dress?” Hannah clasped her hands together, earning a chorus of please’s throughout the room.

Marinette chuckled as she brought the women into a big group hug.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, enough small talk, let’s get down to business, anything new?”

It was as if someone switched a flip in the room, the girls jumping from excited to serious as they all handed in folders, giving her a brief of each new commission. It was going to be a long day of work, certainly. . . . . .  . . . . . . . . . . . . . Her keys jiggled in the apartment lock as she practically fell in, all of her energy drained.

“Damian? Do we have any coffee?”

She didn’t hear an answer as she reached for the cupboard, bringing down her favorite mug. Damian had given it to her a month into them dating. Her fingers absentmindedly reached to her neck where a small D sat on an elegant gold chain.

“I don’t understand Mari-san. You wearing his initial is a statement that he owns you. How is that romantic?”

She adjusted her phone to give Kagami a better look at the necklace, smiling softly as she held the D between two fingers.

“Because Kagami it’s not like that, I don’t wear it cause he ‘owns me’. I wear it because for the first time in a while, I really feel like someone really knows me, ya feel?”

“I do not ‘feel’ but if you are happy, then it is an acceptable gift, as is the coffee mug with the picture of you two.”

The whistle from the coffee machine drew her attention back to the present as Tikki flashed her a smile from where they sat on the Keurig.

“Thank you Tikki. I’m going to need this,” she held up her steaming mug, a tired smile flashing gratefully at the God.

Downing the cup, she placed it in the sink before pulling out her phone seeing three missed texts from Damian stating he would be home soon.

“Well Tikki, at least I’m not the one running late for once.” The two shared a small laugh before they headed towards her bedroom to get dressed for the night. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Damian squeezed her hand tightly as they made their way through Wayne Manner’s garden.

“There could be a small thousand here tonight, are you ready for that Mrs Wayne?”

His smile was blinding as her heart beat rapidly at the sound of him calling her by his last name.

“I most certainly am Mr. Wayne.”

As they rounded the corner to the back of the gardens, Marinette couldn’t help but laugh at the number of people Dick had invited. Loud cheers erupted from every inch of the yard causing her entire face to flash red.

“I might’ve underestimated, I’d say at least three thousand.”

He squeezed her hand once more before he was pulled off into the crowd. She smiled at the genuine fear crossing his face as people began berating him about children so soon.

“Well, well, well, a beautiful woman in distress. Please allow me to be your stand in to ward off the power hungry tonight.”

Jason slung his arm over her shoulders earning a laugh from the smaller girl.

“I am eternally grateful for your services Monsieur Todd.”

They chatted lightly as he led her back to where her future family all stood, all practically vibrating from excitement, even Bruce.

“Mari! I’m so excited! I really thought he was going to force me to hold this a secret for forever.”

Dick pulled her into a bone crushing hug, only pulling back when Barbara and Stephanie forced him to. They each took their turns expressing their excitement for the wedding, Tim even going as far as to say he never thought it would happen.

“What? We were all thinking it! Demon spawn? Happy and smiling all the time? It’s scary!” he shuddered sending another round of laughter throughout the group.

Marinette brought up her phone, snapping a picture, posting it immediately to her Insta.

@mdcdesigns: So excited to officially be a part of this family. (not that I haven’t considered them family for years now :))

She was about to slide her phone back into her purse when something caught her attention. Almost instantly, a private message from Alya sat in her inbox. She wanted to ignore it, but the curiosity was eating her up.

@alyabloglyfe: Soo what?You don’t post for months and all of a sudden you show up with a double post about a supposed engagement to Damian Wayne?

What is this?

A publicity stunt?

A desperate cry to try and hurt Lyla even after all these years?

I demand an answer ‘bestie’

Her heart beat clenched at the last message as she felt the tears trying to pool in her eyes. So many years had passed and Alya still believed her to be the liar and failure that Lila painted her out to be.

She wanted to respond to the messages, but she wasn’t even sure what to say. Her fingers lingered over her keyboard as she looked up, trying to collect her thoughts. Then she saw him. His calm smile, his shining green eyes, the love radiating from him all directed to her. His eyes met hers as he excused himself from the person he was talking to.

“Are you alright habibti?”

His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her into his side. It was as if everything faded away, the only thing she could see was him. Standing on her tiptoes, she gently placed a kiss on his cheek.

“I’m doing better than I ever was.”

He smiled, seemingly satisfied with her answer as she unlocked her phone once more, her fingers moving quickly across the keyboard.

@mdcdesigns: Alya, I don’t need this from you or Lila anymore. I have a world famous business, 1.3 million followers and fans, a loving new family and a fiance who loves me like I’m brand new despite the damage you put me through.

You don’t really want to know what I call this, because you’ll only distort it to fit your fantasy that Lila painted for you so you know what?

Call it what you want :)

She moved to the top of the screen, blocking her old friend without a second thought. After all, she had her new life and it had no room for the past to ruin that. Raising her glass, she leaned forward to clink it with the rest, a new sense of relief flowing through her.

“To Damian, for finally proposing before I had to.”

They all cheered to his mock protests as they brought their flutes to their lips, celebrating the next chapter in their lives, not a single worry filling the space, only love.

Permanent Tag List:

@damianette-is-life @ash-amg @rebecarojas07

[threadofdestiny]

Magnolia (Bakugou x f!reader)

Feudal Japan AU

Shogun!Bakugou x Midoriya’s sister!reader

Summery: Her mother, lady Midoriya Inko, had once told her that the gods had predestined a path for every single person. All she had to do was follow the path and trust that it would lead her to happiness. But how could (Y/N) find happiness in a political formed marriage with her brother’s rival, a man known for being brutal and cold hearted?

Warnings: sexual content in later chapters / period-typical-sexism / strong language / violence / Drama / Angst / Fluff / Slow Burn/ political marriage / Reader is Izuku's sister / period-typical-discriptions like vague mentions of longer hair to form typical hairstyles or specific wardrobe / Bakugou is not good at feelings / Bakugou is a mean, explosive boi / third-person perspektive

Wattpad

AO3

If someone wants to be tagged, just let me know :)

Chapter 1, Chapter 3

Chapter 2

The Emperor's Order

"...So, to sum it up in a few words: The situation in the north is steadily worsening!", Aizawa finished his report in a monotone voice while rubbing one of his dry eyes. Dark circles around them adorned the man's tired face and testified the many sleepless nights he had endured. 

With a suppressed groan, Toshinori settled into the ornate chair at the head of the table as he nodded to his dark-haired general, while he placed his hand over the badly healed injury he received a long time ago. His gaze wandered intently over the huge map of his kingdom as he considered the small figures carefully placed on the neat leather. "We will have to reinforce the borders there, there and there. Shigaraki is getting more and more brash every time, attacking small villages and troops regardless of losses.", the Emperor replied, equally exhausted, before turning to his youngest Shogun, who had taken a seat at his table:"Young Bakugou, you took over the late Shigaraki's lands after the attack against the throne was averted. His forces have been crushed, but there are enough signs that he is still moving within your and Aizawa's borders. I will order that you receive men from the other shogunates to better contain the danger. So prepare yourselves for the gathering of new samurai and soldiers." The young man who was addressed by Toshinori nodded somberly before scribbling something down on the paper that lay on the table in front of him.

"However, I have not called you together today mainly to discus matters of war.", once again sounded the clear voice of the frail emperor, who had once been the strongest of all samurai. However, this was before his time as the head of his empire. Back when his mentor had ruled over this country and he had been his loyal general, as the symbol of peace. But this had been in the past for what felt like an eternity. "We will have to talk about the fact that I have neither heirs nor living family members who could take my place should I loose my life early. My health is not what it once was. So it is urgently time, now that the situation is getting worse, to talk about my legacy if we are to prevent a war for the throne if I may pass away!", explained Toshinori as he looked each person firmly in their eyes. His bony hand wandered over his ribs massaging the old injury that had made him the man he was today. Despite the fact that his body was only a shadow of its former self after the tragic attack, his eyes and voice still showed the sharp mind that Toshinori possessed. No one dared to raise an objection as he steered the topic in that direction, knowing full well how urgent the matter was. "Now that my health is slowly declining, many have their eyes set on the throne and enough have already tried to seize it by force," he continued to speak as he saw his loyal men tense at his ominous words. Midoriya Izuku swallowed hard as he heard his mentor's insinuations. The thought that Shigaraki himself had almost succeeded in putting these plans into action sent a shiver down his spine. "Accordingly, after much thought, I have decided to declare Midoriya Izuku as my heir. With the young Todoroki Shoto, who will inherit the largest shogunate in the south in due course, and with Bakugou, who will guard the northern borders. I see this as a steadfast cornerstone for the coming future.", Toshinori finished his speech without further ado, while he looked into the now shocked faces of his former students. General Aizawa, on the other hand, did not seem surprised to hear the emperor's plans.

"Your H-Highness. I-I'm not sure if I'm up to this!" breathed Izuku in shock, while Bakugou on the other side of the table snorted derisively. The young shogun was one of the most loyal men of the crown, and yet he wasn't exactly known for having a friendly disposition. He and the green-haired samurai did not have the most loving relationship with each other. Since childhood, they had learned the way of the bushido together under the protective hands of Aizawa and Toshinori. Side by side they had grown into the men they were today, but their different personalities had always ensured that they could never completely let go of their rivalry, even if they had already proven in the past that they could work together if they had to. Bakugou detested Izuku's indulgent, soft traits. That a man of his disposition had managed to keep up with the proud and talented boy had put a damper on him over and over again. Bakugou was a goal-oriented and fierce young samurai who had worked his way to the top with only his own strength and steely will. He was stubborn, ruthless and temperamental, but he had proven many times, that he was a good leader and loyal comrade despite his personality. His reputation as a bloodthirsty warrior however, made even the most experienced swordsmen tremble, perfect for the role as the warden of the northern borders. Someone like the young shogun would only take orders from someone he truly respected. It was therefore completely inconceivable to Izuku that someone like Bakugou would ever accept him as his emperor.

Worried, the green-haired man looked briefly at his former fellow pupil who stared him down in surprising silence with his deadly red eyes. Actually, Izuku would have expected Bakugou to be enraged after the emperor said that his rival should become the next heir to the throne, but instead of freaking out, the man just clenched his jaw and watched him with an iron expression. "You are well trained, young Midoriya. I am certain, that you will grow into this role, with my guidance. Of course, I am equally aware that you and young Bakugou have a somewhat bumpy relationship. But neither of you is a fool, which is why you know full well that such an alliance is exactly what this country will need in the future. You will have to face many people in your life who will question you. However, with Bakugou by your side, you will be able to overcome them. You as my heir will become the new symbol of peace, while you should consider young Bakugou as your future general. He as your sword and shield should be able to secure the future we all strive for in the depths of our being, don't you think?" Toshinori confidently assured before turning to Bakugou, who was now glaring down at the table with his arms folded in front of his chest. He had averted his gaze with a snort after the emperor's last words, but to everyone's surprise, he had not voiced any objections.

"In fact, a desirable thought occurred to me yesterday during the introduction of the young debutantes, which is why I have come to the conclusion that I would like to solidify this alliance I envision for the future with a consolidating bond.", the emperor declared after a short break, while he pulled out a prewritten contract from one of his long sleeves. "W-What do you mean?", rang out Izuku's indignant voice, while he was giving Bakugou an anxious look out of the corner of his eyes. The young shogun also seemed to wonder in which direction the conversation seemed to lead, but he remained silent as he waited concertedly for his emperor to continue speaking:"Well, you and Bakugou have reached an age where it makes sense to marry and start a family. Bakugou my not have any siblings, but coincidentally, you possess a younger sister of marriageable age. What alliance is more solid than that of a family brought together?" "B-But isn't this a somewhat hasty decision! I haven't even had a chance to look around for other families who would be sufficient for her.", Izuku tried to object as he imagined in horror of having to give his sweet, loving (Y/N) to his ruthless, temperamental rival. "Are you saying I'm not good enough for your damn sister, Deku? Or were you not listening just now? We are on the brink of a fucking war!", the blond shogun growled angrily as he slammed his fist down on the table, while his patience was wearing thin. Bakugou's body tensed dangerously as he made a move to rise threateningly while staring down at his former fellow pupil in offense. Panicked, Izuku looked from the emperor to the shogun, only to shake his head hurriedly to placate the temperamental man.

"N-No, it's just... I... didn't think you would agree... a-and... well...", stammered the green-haired man, while he hurriedly waved off that he was not happy about the outcome of this conversation. Of course, Izuku saw that this would be a solid alliance when viewed from a political perspective, but it did not change the fact that he did not feel comfortable with the thought of having to give his sister to Bakugou. "I think this is an excellent opportunity to bury your hatchet. An official connection between your two families will strengthen the throne on which you will sit in due course, Midoriya. Fewer people will dare to go against you if it is clear that the two of you support each other.", General Aizawa interrupted his former students with a bored tone as he placed his hand on Bakugou's shoulder to stop him from jumping over the table and strangling his rival on the spot. "Then it is decided! Young Bakugou will marry Young Midoryia's sister.", the emperor declared with a confirming nod. Swallowing, the head of the Midoriya family dropped his objection when he realized he was outvoted. Tormented, he thought about how he should prepare his sister for a man like Bakugou, while said man was surprisingly cooperative and collected despite the fact, that he will have to marry the little sister of his childhood rival.

.

.

.

The presentation of the debutantes at the imperial court had been a resounding success for the venerable Midoriya family. No other young lady had received such high praise like the daughter of this house. Not only her mother, but also her brother, Izuku, had beamed with pride and embraced his sister directly in his strong arms after they escaped the piercing eyes of society when they had finally arrived at their home after a long afternoon.

The young girl, however, would not have thought that the euphoria would be dampened just one day after the festivities, but when Izuku had returned from the audience with the emperor, he had looked exhausted and unhappy. Reddish spots from the stress he had experienced covered his cheekbones that was dotted with freckles. His green eyes shone with sorrow as he retreated unceremoniously to their late father's study, leaving her alone with their mother in the parlor, without much more than a tired greeting.

His little sister had made such a flawless performence, which even he had only been able to admire with bated breath. Jealousy had almost gripped him a little when he had observed how fearlessly and successfully she had been able to face up to this task at her tender age. Despite the fact that he was now one of the most powerful noble warriors of his generation, even nowadays he was still a rather reserved and shy man. When he was her age, he would not have been able to step so fearlessly towards the emperor of that time. But does that mean that his gentle sister would also be strong enough to be able to stand by the feared shogun's side? What if Bakugou turned his dislike of Izuku to (Y/N) just because she shared his blood? He couldn't bear the thought of the latter possibly suffering from their difficult relationship.

Izuku's hands had buried themselves desperately in his full, wavy hair as he had bent over the emperor's written order. The hours passed in the small stuffy room without the young lord truly registering it. Only the wandering of the sun, which constantly changed the incidence of light through the window, testified that time had not stopped, but no matter how long he sat there, the young lord would not think of a solution to this precarious situation.

How could he explain to his sister that she had been promised to a man just one day after her debut? Izuku had wanted to give her a say in the matter who she was going to marry in the future, but now his hands were tied, for even as the heir to the emperor, he did not have the right to ignore the crown's decision. The entire situation was an unbelievable catastrophe in the eyes of the young head of the family. He doubted that a simple wedding would allow him and Bakugou to put aside their differences. Even worse, the man now had something in his hands that Izuku loved with all his heart. The green-haired heir was a family man. He adored his mother and sister and wished only the best for them.

Bakugou, on the other hand, was a person who had forgotten how to feel tender feelings for someone else after he had buried his vulnerability under all the blood he had shed in the past. He was someone who had learned how to hate more than how to love. Izuku could not imagine that (Y/N) could be happy at this man's side. That was what bothered him the most. His childhood rival was not a bad person, although he had done some pretty bad things in the past. He trusted Bakugou to do the best for his country's security, but was a brute like him also able to protect the fragile heart of a sheltered girl? Bakugou hated Izuku. That much was certain. So would he hate his sister, as well? The thought that she might be stuck in an unloved marriage caused Izuku's heart to contract painfully.

Completely lost in his own thoughts, the young householder only noticed how much time had passed, when a servant had served him tea and food in the early evening. As if spellbound, he had been looking at the letter that sealed his sister's fate. With a deep sigh, the young man slumped down before lifting his head to rise his gaze at his servant:"Bring me my sister, please!" Izuku commanded before watching him bow and leave.

It had taken only a few moments for (Y/N) to enter the room with a look of concern. She had neither kneeled nor indicated a bow when she had entered the study, as such formalities were not expected in front of Izuku. He and his sister were very close, even if he hadn't spent much of his life growing up with her. "Is everything all right, brother?" she asked cautiously after approaching the table where Izuku had been huddled, unchanged, for several hours. "I have important news for you!" he sighed as he gestured with his scarred hand for her to sit across from him. "The emperor was very fond of you.", her brother began with a sad smile as his sister sat down. He watched as she placed her hands demurely in her lap and returned his expression gratefully. "... In fact, he was so excited that he had personally ordered a wedding between you and one of his closest followers.", he explained hesitantly as he watched sudden surprise appear on his sister's countenance. Completely perplexed, (Y/N) looked up at him as she absorbed the pronounced information. For a brief moment, her attention swung to the document bearing the Emperor's seal before she looked back at her brother, gulping. This turn of events had been completely unpredictable for her. The youngest Midoriya's heartbeat stopped for a moment when she realized that her fate was already sealed with this document, before different families could have come to them at all. The thought of not being able to control the further course of events made her truly afraid, even if she tried not to let it show. She didn't want her brother to feel even more agitated than he already was, because neither of them could do anything about the emperor's decision. "W-Who is it?", she asked accordingly without making any effort to speak out against the decision. However, the pained expression on her brother's face only caused more unease to spread through the pit of her stomach.

"... Bakugou Katsuki!", replied Izuku after a long hesitation. A shiver ran down (Y/N)'s spine when she heard the name of her future husband. Silence spread between the siblings for a moment, while (Y/N) tried to swallow the rising lump in her throat. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes before quietly clearing her throat: "Isn't he one of the other two lords who had studied together with you under the emperor?", (Y/N) asked silently, while she tried to hide the shaking within her voice. Unfortunately, her brother had not often mentioned Bakugou in his stories, so her information on him was exceedingly sparse. However, she knew enough rumors that circulated around this man, although of course it was impossible to tell which ones actually held a shred of truth. Nodding, Izuku cleared his throat as he reached for his teacup, which already felt rather cool in his scarred hands. "He is the youngest man to be elevated to the rank of shogun. He rules over a large part of the northernmost lands. He... is, in consideration of his status, an... excellent match...", he explained hesitantly, before covering part of his pained expression with the richly decorated porcelain. (Y/N) was thoughtfully silent as she weighed this detail internally. A man appointed to the rank of shogun by her current emperor could not be a bad person, could he? What kind of man was Bakugou Katsuki? Was he the bloodthirsty warrior like everybody whispered behind his back, or was he a loyal supporter of the crown, who was just misunderstood? Izuku did look unhappy, but maybe it was just because Bakugou was his rival. That much, after all, she was aware of. With clenched hands, (Y/N) tried to tell herself that this man didn't have to be her downfall, however, she could feel uncertainty raising in her stomach. No matter how she twisted or turned it, she would have to somehow come to terms with her situation without falling into a panic attack.

.

.

.

Clicking his tongue, Bakugou downed his tea before brashly taking his dinner, while he ignored his companion. "Tell me, why are you in such a bad mood tonight?", Kirishima persistently inquired for the third time, while he also helped himself to the food that the servants had provided for their master. One of the kitchen maids blushingly placed a bowl of rice in front of him and received a beaming smile from the charming, always good-humored samurai. Bakugou grunted meaninglessly and continued eating in silence without giving his companion a proper answer. "We could be at the Kaminari family's celebration right now. But you decided to throw our plans out the window.", the red-haired man sighed in dismay as he watched his best friend closely. "The festivities at the Kaminari family would certainly have been a good start to get to know the families of the young unmarried ladies. If you want to comply with your family's requests to finally find yourself a wife, you're going to have to start dealing with people.", he added testingly after a brief pause, receiving a contemptuous snort in response. "It's too late for that shit now anyway. So I might as well stay at home where I don't have talk with all those lickspittles.", the blond man hissed in annoyance, not looking up from his dinner.

Surprised, Kirishima began to sit up straighter after Bakugou had finally answered his questioning properly for the first time. Deciding not to give up, he leaned forward a bit to watch the blond man closely before continuing with his questions: "Why is that? Have you already found a suitable wife without my knowledge?"

The way the young shogun paused for a moment gave the curious samurai exactly the answer he was looking for. Interested, Kirishima watched as his counterpart's red eyes lost focus and Bakugou began to drift off in his thoughts. In the Shogun's mind's eye, the figure of his rival appeared, who's expression was filled with horror, when he began to understand that the Emperor had ordered his sister to be married to Bakugou in order to strengthen an alliance between them. With clenched teeth, he then imagined the young girl who had been presented to the emperor two days ago as a debutante. Soft and innocent, she had strode past the crowd and bowed in front of the crown with ragged breaths. She had seemed braver than Izuku could have been at her age, and yet Bakugou could not shake the image of her looking up at him in fear, much as her brother had done years ago. A tearful, frightened girl was not exactly the kind of woman he imagined at his side, but what could he do about the emperor's decision? He had come to the capital with the intention of finding a wife, but this was not how he had imagined it. Not with the little sister of damn Midoriya Izuku.

"No matter which lady you're thinking of, I think you should send her a bouquet of flowers, or better yet, pay your respects to her family right away! I bet they'll greet you with a kiss on the hand if you've already made up your mind.", the red-haired gentleman interrupted the silence. Immediately, Bakugou turned his scowl on his best friend and gave another disdainful snort before replying:"No way!", he barked angrily as he clutched his chopsticks so tightly that they began to crack dangerously. "Well... You'll have to know in the end. But nothing comes from nothing. If you want that girl to like you, you're going to have to be benevolent towards her.", Kirishima replied with a grin, as he folded his arms behind his head. "So if I were you, I would start courting her before someone else does. Or perhaps the family has already rejected you because your reputation doesn't appeal to them?"

That comment was the last straw that broke the camel's back for Bakugou. Bursting, the chopsticks broke in the temperamental shogun's hand. What did he care if others were interested in the girl? Even if the emperor had not ordered a marriage between them, his rival could not have refused the courtship of a shogun. Even without his title, no one could have refused Bakugou if he wanted something. Especially not such an effeminate person as Midoriya Izuku. Not that he cares anyway. He couldn't care less who was going to be his wife, as long as she was able to fulfill her damn duty's.

However, it was a complete waste of time to worry about such things. In the end, the current emperor had taken the decision of what would happen from them either way. She would become his wife whether he sent her flowers or not. Bakugou hated it when people tried to force something on him. If the order had not come from the emperor himself, the person who would have dared to do such a thing would have had a tongue for the longest time. He would have ripped it out without hesitations. But Toshinori was damn right that Bakugou was no fool. The ash-blond man had seen the extent of the rebellion in the north with his own eyes. The opponents of the crown grew bolder now that they thought the throne stood on sawn, wobbly legs. Despite Deku's effeminate personality, he was a good candidate for the crown. The young shogun would never admit it openly, but Midoriya's self-sacrificing and solution-oriented nature would make him a good emperor if Bakugou stood by his side to strike down those who would take advantage of his good nature. A marriage union between Bakugou Katsuki and the future emperor's sister would make a powerful statement. It would change conditions on the border as well as in the capital for the better, but did he have to spend more time than necessary with Deku because of it? Hell, fucking no!

"No ten horses will make me seek out Deku if not necessary!", Bakugou stated icily, before realizing that he had now given the unknown girl an identity. Realization flashed in Kirishima's eyes as he heard who the young shogun was thinking about. "The girl in question is little Miss Midoriya? I didn't think it would be her who would steal your attention. Even though I'm sure she left a lasting impression on many the day before yesterday. I heard that the matchmakers also spoke highly of her. A true gem, I've heard." Gritting his teeth, Bakugou turned away from his friend as he heard all the compliments about his future wife. He had no interest in talking about her, but the latter still seemed reluctant to drop the subject.

"Well, probably you should actually leave her alone...", Kirishima finally relented. He paused briefly for the dramatic impact, gleefully eating some vegetables, watching as the young householder slowly taxed him again with a piercing gaze:"What are you trying to say?" "Well... I guess the tension that exists between you and Midoriya-san certainly wouldn't be beneficial to such a connection. After all, you've never quite been able to put aside your youthful rivalry. I am sure that he would not be very enthusiastic if you tried to court his little sister all of a sudden. Actually, I'm sure he'll reject you outright.", Kirishima replied innocently as he inwardly counted to three.

"WHAT, like that damn Deku is going to be able to stop me from courting his little sister. Nobody rejects a damn shogun out of anything! Not even the Emperor's fucking favorite, you hear me?", he snarled at his friend before turning angrily to one of the servants. "You! Go buy the most expensive flowers you can find and send them to the fucking Midoriya household! Make sure Deku sees exactly who sent her that stupid bouquet. Let that weak little good-for-nothing die at the thought that he can't do anything about the fact that I'm going to marry his damn sister.", Bakugou ordered, cursing, before rising angrily to stomp out of the room. Arriving at the door, the young shogun turned once more to Kirishima, who looked after him in perplexity at his choice of words. "And just so we're clear. The damn emperor ordered the wedding. Like I'm going to deign to marry Deku's sister on my own otherwise, you understand?"