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cinebration · 3 years

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Give Me Peace (Geralt of Rivia x Reader) [Request]

I always had a vision of the witcher where reader is a siren (alternative, land walking type that can still enthrall ppl with her beauty) and her and Geralt always bump into each other over the years. Ppl are always hunting her since sirens are worth a lot of money so he decides to help her. Geralt refuses to admit his feelings are real for her until he figures out that witchers are immune to siren songs. Basically, lots of angst but a fluffy ending! — Requested by anon

I know this was supposed to have a fluffy ending, but it turned into something else, and I couldn’t bear to change it.

Tagged: @bichibibi

Warnings: death

Gif Source: august-walker

Over the span of five decades, you and Geralt crossed paths more times than he had ever crossed anyone’s, Jaskier and Yennefer included. The hand of destiny seemed to be at work, nudging you both into each other’s path every ten years or so.

It started first by the ocean. You had spent much time there in that first decade, drawn to the sea and your marine cousins, the sirens of the water. You were a siren of the land, beautiful beyond measure but lacking the enchanting voice of your sea cousins. You did not call men to their deaths as they did. Instead, your beauty drove men to madness.

Perhaps you were the more dangerous breed.

For the first few years, your beauty kept you safe, as no man who laid eyes on you and met your gaze was safe from your spell. You could topple kingdoms if you so felt with that kind of power.

But there came men and women who coveted the prize of a slain siren, especially one poisoning the minds and hearts of their very best.

Thus came your first encounter with the witcher, Geralt. Hired by the townsfolk, he sought you out on the shores of the sea, where you sat on the rocks in low tide and gazed out over the choppy waters. Careful to avoid your gaze, he drew near, armed not with his sword but with his wits, ready to be enthralled.

Hearing his step on the sand, you glanced at him and paused, stricken by his rugged beauty. Never had you seen a man whose looks could entice you as you enticed others. Though he averted his eyes, you saw their vivid yellow irises glinting in the setting sun.

“Witcher,” you called, “have you come for me?”

He grunted.

“You would kill me for something I have no power over?”

“You’re driving the town mad.”

“They are driven mad by their own desire. I can’t hide myself.”

“They don’t see it that way.”

“How do you see it?”

He cleared his throat, glanced over his shoulder to see if any of the townsfolk had followed him.

Slipping down off the rock, you approached him. He took a step back, shifting into a defensive stance. You ceased, bare feet digging into the cooling sand.

“If I paid you more than they did to protect me, would you?”

The muscle in his jaw flexed. “Only if you leave.”

With a sigh, you looked back over the ocean. You would miss it, but forests and mountains were your home; to them you would return.

The following decade, Geralt heard news of a beautiful woman bewitching men near Brokilon. At first he thought she belonged to the druids that populated the dangerous forest, but as he heard report after report of men driven to madness, raving of beauty and unearthly eyes, he knew the woman to be a siren.

He knew it had to be you.

The villagers sent him forth to kill you. Traveling through the forest on the outskirts of Brokilon, careful not to trespass, he found a small hut near the road, partially obscured by the trees but by no means invisible.

Through a half-shuttered window, he glimpsed you brushing your hair. In the light from the fire burning within the hearth, he glimpsed the faint lines of sealed gills. He had heard that land sirens had come from the sea centuries before, but nothing had offered so much proof as the vestigial, malformed organs on your neck.

“Witcher,” you called, seeing him through the window, “have you come for me?”

He grunted.

“You would kill me for something I have no power over?”

“The villagers don’t see it that way.”

“What am I to do? I can’t hide myself.”

“You could do a better job.”

“Come into my home, witcher, and warm yourself.”

Shaking his head, he unsheathed his sword.

“If I pay you double what the villagers are paying, will you spare me again?”

He considered for a long moment. You stared at his face, but he refused to meet your gaze. Out of his peripherals, he saw something of your beauty. It was stellar, he would agree, but it stirred nothing more within him than he expected when seeing a beautiful woman.

It almost made him want to meet your enchanting gaze.

Discipline and strength won out, but not entirely.

“Yes,” he answered. “Just leave.”

Sighing, you put out the fire and gathered your things, amounting to nothing more than a small sack over one shoulder.

“Witcher,” you called, “I have been attacked twice now.”

He nearly met your eyes, so sharply did he turn back to you.

“Men shot arrows through my window, tried to set fire to my home.”

“You are a monster to them.”

“So are you, but you are allowed some peace.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Few men think they can kill you. Every man thinks they can kill me. There is peace in the former.”

Shouldering your sack, you struck off down the road, fixing your gaze on the mountains.

Geralt watched you go until even his enhanced vision no longer saw your figure, your words echoing in his mind.

In the third decade, Geralt came upon you by chance. He passed a hunting party made of hardscrabble men practically frothing at the mouth with anticipation. They rained arrows down into the ravine from their position on the mountain face, arrows with fire burning at the ends. Geralt would have walked on if one of them had not cried, “Burn, enchantress!”

Geralt paused to look down into the ravine. A small shack leaned against the wall, situated by a thin stream. You stood in stark relief among the basalt, knocking away the arrows with a poor shield. One arrow caught in your thatch roof, caught fire.

Geralt hauled the nearest archer off his feet, slamming him against the cliff face. The other men spun, glimpsed his white hair and murderous glare. They fled, screaming obscenities in your direction.

“Witcher,” you called, “have you come for me?”

He didn’t answer, unsure how to.

Running into the burning shack, you stumbled out with your bag and watched the rest of your ramshackle home burn. By the time it had been reduced to a pile of ash and cinders, Geralt had made his way down into the ravine. He avoided your gaze but stared at the curve of your neck.

“They grow bolder every year,” you informed him. “See?” Slipping off the shoulder of your tunic, you presented a livid scar not many months old. “They will be the death of me—and I have not driven any of them mad.”

“Sirens have gone up in price.”

“I have no money to pay you, witcher, to spare me.”

He grunted. “I wasn’t hired to kill you. This time.”

“Until next time, then.”

“Wait.”

You obliged, dropping your gaze slightly so he could look on your face. Wary, he only glimpsed it before averting his eyes.

“They’ll keep coming,” he said.

“Yes.”

“What…will you do?”

“Nothing. We all die at the hands of men.”

Geralt felt something strange constrict his chest. “You can go to the Edge of the World.”

“The elves have no love for my kind. We are as dangerous to them as we are to humans. But thank you for the advice.”

Geralt watched you follow the river through the ravine and wondered why he wanted to tell you to stay.

The fourth decade, he was hired yet again—by you. You tracked him for miles, following instructions given to you by a man in the town. No one had been bewitched therein, for you had bound your eyes with cloth, preventing them from being enthralled.

Only as you navigated the unused road did you remove the cloth. After a day of unceasing travel by foot, you approached Geralt’s campsite. Roach whinnied as you drew near, but she did not rear or cry out in alarm. Geralt sprang to his feet.

Having blinded yourself again with the cloth, you stood at the edge of his campsite.

“Witcher,” you called, “I have come for you.”

“Why?”

“I am being pursued.”

“By?”

“A group of armed men. They seek me out especially, not solely because I am a siren, but because I am the siren.”

Looking on your face, he saw weariness and fear lining your features. The tops of your eyebrows were drawn together, indicative of your distress.

“I have no coin,” you told him.

“You have to pay me.”

“I feared as much.” Pulling tight your threadbare coat, you asked, “May I at least share your fire? I have a penny to pay you for some food.”

Geralt hesitated. As much as he wished to help, felt compelled to—a feeling that worried him—he couldn’t help but wonder if it was a trap. A slip of his guard would be all you needed for you to enthrall him and make him do as you wished.

“I will wear the blindfold,” you assured him. “You won’t be afflicted.”

Grunting reluctantly, he tossed you a hank of meat from the spit roasting over the fire. You ate ravenously with less grace than he expected. Only then did he notice how frail you seemed beneath your coat, how few plentiful days you had seen since he last crossed your path.

A surge of feeling coursed through him, one he identified with an urge to protect. Protection wasn’t strictly in his purview, as he was more of an offensive weapon than a defensive one. Yet the urge remained as he watched you warm yourself in front of the fire, eerie with the blindfold covering nearly half your face.

“Have you found your peace?” you asked in the quiet.

“No.”

“A pity. But neither have I.”

“You don’t actually expect to find peace.”

You smiled thinly. “Surely I do. In death.”

Geralt nodded.

“There is a madness in driving men mad,” you said. “I can find no solace among people, and so, living alone in the most terrible of ways—among others—I know what it feels like to be driven mad.”

Geralt watched you as you spoke. The firelight flickered shadows across your beautiful face.

“Few sirens know it themselves. They live free in their youth, reveling in their power. Few make it beyond that. But those that do begin to run, and that marks their end.” You shook your head. “None of us choose this.”

Geralt tried to quell the emotions rising within him. He hadn’t chosen his path either, his life. Destiny had worked hard to bring him here, with all of life’s misery and suffering multiplied tenfold for his status as a witcher. If only the rumors of the elixirs and Grasses were true, that they could make him an emotionless monster.

Instead, he silently suffered beside a land siren who knew suffering intimately.

You disappeared by morning. The band of men pursuing you crossed paths with Geralt a few hours later. Choice words and a rough scuffle sent them back home.

In the fifth decade, Geralt felt drawn to the sea. There was no work there by the ocean, but he drifted there anyway, away from the turmoil of the interior. Two miles away from a fishing port, the beach was unblemished, free of humans.

Only you were there, seated upon a rock at low tide, overlooking the serene waters.

“Witcher,” you called, “have you come for me?”

“I have.”

Geralt mounted the rock beside you, sat down on the rough and slimy surface. You stared out at the horizon, knees held against your chest.

He dutifully avoided your gaze.

“Witcher,” you said, “you shouldn’t fear me.”

He grunted.

“I do not affect your kind.”

Frowning, he glanced up, found himself staring directly into your eyes. They were gorgeous, truly enthralling—but though his heart rate spiked at being exposed to your naked gaze, he felt no different than he had upon arriving at the beach: pained and joyous. He couldn’t believe it.

“See? You are unaffected.”

“I…why didn’t you tell me?”

“What good would it have done? You needed something to fear to still consider me a monster.”

He cleared his throat. “You’re not a monster.”

“Neither are you.”

He wanted to say otherwise, but you were staring at him again. Fighting the feelings in his chest, he reached up and brushed away the hair from your eyes, curling the strands around your ear. The faint gills on your neck revealed themselves.

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips against yours. You kissed him back gently. You tasted salty, much to his surprise.

When he pulled back, he discovered it was because of the tears streaming down your face. He brushed them away, but you shook your head, holding his hand.

“Give me peace,” you whispered, “and return me to the sea. I was never meant for the land.”

Geralt avoided the ocean for five decades after, but the salty taste of your kiss never left him.

#Geralt of Rivia x Reader #Geralt of Rivia #Geralt of Rivia imagine #Geralt x Reader #Geralt #Geralt imagine #Witcher imagine #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill imagine #The Witcher #requests

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c-optimistic · 4 years

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scar

Kara is not mysterious.

She’s not, though she makes a valiant attempt at it. She’s secretive and brilliant and more than talented at putting on an act, but she’s not mysterious. While there are dozens of things that don’t make sense about her, she has a refreshing habit of wearing her heart on her sleeve, consequences be damned, and even if Lena doesn’t understand what Kara does, she certainly can follow why.

Which is why the eyebrow thing is so…confusing.

(Perhaps the more accurate word is frustrating, frustrating that Lena can’t figure it out unlike some of Kara’s other idiosyncrasies.

Understanding Kara’s preference for fatty and sugary foods was simple enough. Her Kryptonian physiology meant that fats and sugars took longer to break down, leaving her feeling full longer. Her partiality for movies with happy endings also made perfect sense—after all, who would wantto have more tragedy in their life? Even her habit of listening for Alex’s heartbeat every night before bed made sense; it had been how she’d fallen asleep when she first landed. But the eyebrowthing…)

Lena studies Kara as she settles into bed, watching her take her time to remove her glasses and run her fingers through her hair. The lamp on Lena’s side of the bed (it still leaves her a little breathless whenever she thinks things like that—whenever she notices the second toothbrush in the bathroom or nearly trips over one of Kara’s boots still laying where she kicked them off carelessly the night before) is still on, illuminating the thick file Lena’s been going through steadily for the past hour or so, waiting until Kara got back from dealing with the rogue alien causing a ruckus downtown.

“What?” Kara asks when Lena continues to stare rather than put out the lamp or put her work away. “Is there still gunk in my hair? I washed it out as best I could but—”

“—why do you do that?”

Kara blinks.

“…uh, wash my hair?” she asks, frowning as she settles back onto the pillows, looking over at Lena with playfully narrowed eyes.

“No. Why do you do that?” she asks again, this time raising her hand to press her fingertips right above her left eyebrow, attempting to demonstrate Kara’s inexplicable behavior. “You touch your scar before bed every night.”

“Do I?”

“You don’t realize you’re doing it?” Lena asks incredulously, her eyebrows rising. She puts the thick file away, shifting so that she’s more settled against the pillows and is facing Kara. “Though maybe it makes sense. I suppose someone like you wouldn’t be all that used to scars.”

“I don’t touch it because I’m not used to scars, Lena,” Kara laughs, leaning over and pressing a kiss to Lena’s temple. She’s being annoyingly calm about it, either not realizing or not caring that this one unexplainable habit has been driving Lena nuts since she first started spending the night. “It’s just…comforting.”

“Comforting?” Lena repeats blankly, not quite sure what Kara could possibly mean. She doesn’t like drawing comparisons between herself and Kara—that’s just begging for a downward spiral, who could possibly want to be compared to Supergirl?—but in this one instance, she can’t help herself. Lena has a great deal of scars (and she allows herself a moment to be poetic as she thinks of all the metaphorical scars Lex and her parents have left on her) and she hates them all. There’s the thin white scar on her left index finger, where she accidentally cut herself while cooking, a careless moment brought on by the first news reports about Lex’s plots against Superman. There’s a darker, misshaped scar on her right knee, where she’d landed on hard concrete after a particularly brutal lesson on ‘how to be a Luthor.’ (Lillian had been horrified by the incident—by her own ability to do such a thing to a child or the very sight of bright red blood rolling down that child’s leg—and had apologized for it later, lavishing Lena with attention and care, very vigilant from that moment on to physically treat her gently, even as the emotional abuse continued.) And of course there’s the scar below her ribcage, which she doesn’t remember the exact details of, just knowing it involved tequila and bad choices. This scar she’s come to love; Kara has not once allowed the opportunity to kiss that scar go by.

Lena doesn’t like any of her scars. They only serve as a harsh reminder of who she was, and she rather likes the person she is now. But Kara’s looking at her softly and her eyes are so blue and Lena has to admit that if someone asked her right in that moment, she’d say her girlfriend was absolutely mysterious.

“Why?” she asks, even though every part of her is screaming that she can figure it out later—just like all the other things—even though a part of her believes she’s showing exactly how invested she is, just how important Kara is to her, and vulnerability is one scar Lena’s still not quite sure how to feel about. (When she’s feeling more poetic, she can admit that it’s not a scar at all, not yet. It’s a deep and still bleeding wound, and she thinks with Kara’s help it might heal into a neat thin line rather than the jagged edges for which she has a propensity.)

“On Krypton…” Kara begins slowly, reaching out to take Lena’s hand, threading their fingers together and gently running her thumb over Lena’s skin. It’s a mindless gesture, but one that has turned into a moment to latch onto—yet another simple thing that can take Lena’s breath away. “I had no powers on Krypton. I was…normal.” Kara pauses long enough to take a deep breath she doesn’t need, shuffling over enough that her entire body is pressed up against Lena’s, hand never ceasing its ministrations. “I could get hurt, bleed, become so exhausted that I wanted nothing more than my bed, any day, any time. I didn’t need kryptonite or a rogue alien to make me feel like everyone else.”

“You got the scar on Krypton,” Lena guesses, unable to help the track of her eyes. Realizing there’s not point to pretending, she reaches up with her free hand and gently runs the pad of her thumb over the scar, watching as Kara’s eyes flutter shut.

“I was young when I got it,” she all but whispers. “I’m not sure exactly how. I remember it involved my father and uncle and one of their experiments.” She laughs a little, lost in another world—a long since lost world. “My father petitioned the Science Guild to allow me to join as soon as possible, but they wanted to wait until I was a little older. So my father and uncle had me work with them in secret—my mother was furious when she found out.” She laughs again, opening her eyes and meeting Lena’s gaze steadily. “I remember her lecturing me as she cleaned me up—didn’t even allow Kelex near me. At the time, I didn’t think it was very fair. It’s funny,” she adds softly, not sounding amused at all, “I’d give anything to hear her yell at me again.”

“Kara…” Lena tries, but she doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what she cansay. How does one comfort their girlfriend over the loss of their entire planet, their family, their friends—the only life they’d ever known? She can lay here and recite as many platitudes as she’d like, nothing would take that sadness out of Kara’s eyes.

(Lena knows, she’s had her fair share of scars, understands how much pain they could still cause even though for all intents and purposes the skin had healed over, the tissue repaired itself.)

“I used to hold my mother’s necklace as I prayed to Rao every night,” Kara says suddenly, breaking through Lena’s thoughts, looking inexplicably calm and at peace. “It seemed important to do, especially when I really began coming into my powers and didn’t need sleep.” She tightens her grip on Lena’s hand just briefly, letting out a soft sigh as she does so. “In some ways, it makes me glad I gave the necklace to Mon-El.”

“Kara, I’m sorry, but that doesn’t make sense. It was the last thing you had of your mother’s.”

“And I got it when she was putting me into a pod and saying goodbye. Carrying it around…carrying it around felt heavy. It was a constant reminder of losing my planet, of years in that pod, of nights spent crying with the Danvers…of nearly dying myself.” For the first time she looks away, apparently invested in the patterns of the curtains. “But the scar is from a moment when my uncle’s experiment went wrong and my mother cleaned me up and my father kept apologizing and snuck me a treat later.” Kara sniffs, and Lena doesn’t mention or acknowledge the tears that have rolled down her cheeks. “The scar reminds me of who I am. I like it.”

(Lena was right about one thing: Kara is not mysterious. But her notions about scars? Lena might need to rethink her stance.)

“I like it, too,” Lena says, pressing her lips to the scar above Kara’s left eyebrow in a lengthy kiss. It must be the right response—or something close to it anyway—because Kara practically sags, resting her forehead against Lena’s.

And they fall asleep just like that, heads close and hands intertwined, but not before Lena makes the mental note to never allow the opportunity to kiss Kara’s scar to go by.

#supercorp #fanfic #old #kara danvers #lena luthor

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akaluan · 3 years

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An AU where everyone has wings but they're hidden unless willingly shown. Most people leave them out with pride, but some hide them away. Because each feather is a thought someone has had about you where they were thinking of nothing but you, and to some, this is a beautiful experience.

For Kisuke, his wings have screamed of Aizen's obsession for a century, and he had learned how to consciously turn his own thoughts away from adding feathers to others. Because the idea of Aizen wearing his thoughts was nauseating.

And then he met Erich.

((Okay, so there's definitely going to be more of this, but it'll come Later (TM) bc right now I just want to get something written for things and posted XD Hope this suits!))

(Warnings for Kisuke's anxiety and the whole apology-after-SS-arc thing)

\\\

Kisuke hid a smile behind his fan as he watched the teens tumble from the gate into midair, their panicked and confused shouts both hilarious and reassuring—

(They’d survived.)

(They’d survived, they’d survived, they’d survived…!)

—especially as they were caught in a rug and batted towards Tessai who spilled them out atop Kisuke’s flying carpet. He needed to apologize to them all — especially to Kurosaki — but in this brief, wonderful moment he could simply watch and enjoy.

Movement from the gate made Kisuke jerk back around, staring up at the stranger who strode from the closing gate and then stood there, his sharp eyes scanning the scene and one corner of his mouth quirking up into an amused smile. His gaze caught on Kisuke and his head tilted slightly, amusement fading and stance shifting into something watchful-wary-thoughtful as his wings flared slightly to make him look bigger.

Kisuke swallowed at the sight, at the sheer array of colors on the man’s wings, a patchwork quilt of bright-beautiful-loving thoughts laid bare for the world to see. His primary feathers were alternating sky and midnight blue, marbled with threads of copper and gold, and the rest of his feathers were equally bright, equally distinct, proof of how many people thought of him — thought well of him — in his life.

(Unlike his own wings.)

(No, don’t think about it.)

The man abruptly twitched, right wing spreading slightly more as the man cast a glance at it, and Kisuke froze at the sight of a feather turning sunshine yellow right in front of his eyes.

(No, oh no, he hadn’t meant to—)

(Damn!)

Kisuke yanked his thoughts back in line. Buried his admiration of the man’s wings deep-deep-deep into the midst of a jumble of thoughts-calculations-plans where it couldn’t stain the man’s beautiful wings.

(No one needed his thoughts directed only at them!)

“Ah, Rerugen-san!” Inoue said cheerfully as soon as she got to her feet and waved at the man overhead. “Come down and meet Urahara-san and the others! They’re the ones that helped us get into Soul Society so we could save Rukia-chan.”

The man nodded slowly and folded his wings, then appeared next to Ishida in a burst in hirenkyaku that Kisuke had to strain to follow.

(A Quincy soul?)

(Fascinating.)

“Maa, find a new friend in Soul Society?” Kisuke asked, trying to figure out how and why the Quincy soul had followed the teens home. The man wasn’t wearing Shinigami garb so he probably wasn’t part of the Gotei Thirteen, but how, then, had he convinced the Shinigami to let him follow the teens back to the Living World?

Ishida shrugged and looked away, his shoulders hunching a bit as he tucked himself closer to Rerugen’s side. “Something like that,” he muttered as Rerugen’s wing partially spread to wrap around him in a protective gesture.

“Rerugen-san is going to teach Ishida-kun!” Inoue announced with a bright-sharp-pointed smile, and Kisuke couldn’t help but admire the technique. She was a bit rough at it, but… well, she was still young and didn’t have quite the… incentive… to do well at it that Kisuke’d had at her age.

(Perhaps he should keep an eye on her, give the occasional bit of advice on how to get her way without seeming to do so.)

(She seemed like she’d be good at it.)

“Is that so?” Kisuke tapped the edge of his fan against his chin as he examined Rerugen again: a warrior for sure, and clearly protective over Ishida—

Kisuke suppressed a frown as he turned his attention to Ishida, trying to figure out exactly why something felt off about the teen. Ishida had always been clever-controlled-certain, but… his lack of presence didn’t feel like control. Especially not next to Rerugen’s own control, so strong that Kisuke could only sense the barest edge of presence from him.

(What had happened in Soul Society?)

(He had hoped…)

(Well, one more thing for him to apologize for, it appeared.)

“It is,” Rerugen answered firmly, his attention fixed on Kisuke, and—

Kisuke tried not to shiver as he felt the tell-tale brush of someone’s thoughts running down his spine and into his right wing, already bracing for the dirty-oily-clinging sensation that Aizen’s obsession always left behind, but… it didn’t come. Instead, it felt like cool water across his back, sluicing away the memory and making his hidden wings feel slightly lighter.

He resisted the urge to reveal his wings, no matter how much he wanted to see what had changed; he refused to let the teens see his wings, refused to show a complete stranger that someone was obsessed with him.

(He’d just have to wait until he was safe in his lab to see.)

(He could wait that long.)

Kisuke took a careful breath, shunted his thoughts aside, and turned his attention to the teens in front of him. They deserved an apology for all he’d forced them through, especially Kurosaki, and he wasn’t going to let a stranger’s presence deter him from doing so.

He went to his knees and leaned forward, head bowed and hat pressed to his chest, and announced, “I’m really… really sorry for… everything.”

Shocked silence met his words, but he forced himself to remain in place, not wanting to face the looks the teens were likely giving him. Sensation rippled down his spine and spread to his hidden wings, proof that he had everyone’s attention, and he swallowed. Squeezed his eyes shut. Knew he’d be spending the night in his lab, obsessing over whatever he could sense from his new feathers.

(He deserved this.)

(He deserved it, he deserved it, he deserved it.)

(He did.)

Kisuke braced himself as Kurosaki’s reiatsu roared to life and the teen stalked forward, uncertain what was to come but knowing he wouldn’t protest whatever the teen chose to do.

“Don’t do that,” Kurosaki growled as he stood over Kisuke. “Don’t bow to me,” he insisted when Kisuke didn’t move. “You did what you could to help us, and we all knew something was up beyond the obvious.”

“You could have died,” Kisuke tried, still not looking up. “I sent you into dangerous territory with little explanation or preparation. I lied to you, led you right into a trap—”

Pain exploded across his cheek, the shock making him jerk to the side and drop his hat. He reached up to touch his stinging cheek with one trembling hand, mind trying to piece together what had happened.

(Kurosaki had… slapped him?)

(That was… less than he’d expected to happen.)

“Done trying to make everything about you?” Kurosaki asked sharply. “We knew what we were getting into,” he said, then huffed when Kisuke made a noise of protest and added, “Okay, we didn’t know exactly what we were getting into, but we knew it was worse than you were making it sound. We’re not ignorant kids, Hat’n’Clogs, we know when things smell rotten.” He clicked his tongue and took a step closer, nudging Kisuke’s side lightly with his leg. “I can’t control how you feel about what you did,” he said more softly than before, “but I can say that none of us blame you. And if you’re apologizing about it, then you probably feel shitty enough to not do it again, right?”

Kisuke swallowed at the forgiveness in Kurosaki’s tone and words. “I can’t promise to always tell you everything—”

“Tch, I wasn’t asking for you to do that,” Kurosaki grumbled as he knelt in front of Kisuke and poked his shoulder. “I don’t want everything,” he said firmly. “I want you to promise that next time something like this happens, you’ll lay out the dangers and your suspicions. And if there’s something you can’t tell us, just say that. We won’t be offended.”

“Maa, if you say so,” Kisuke said as he lifted his head enough to eye Kurosaki warily, wondering exactly how long that permissiveness would remain. Eventually the teen would get tired of Kisuke’s everything, just like everyone else did: Tessai and Yoruichi were the exception, not the rule, after all.

“I do,” Kurosaki said, a stubborn cast to his features that surprised Kisuke not at all. The teen truly was Masaki’s child.

Kisuke gave him a shallow nod and said, “Then I will do my best to do so.”

“Good.” Kurosaki settled back on his heels, a pleased air about him. “Thank you, Hat’n’Clogs.”

Kisuke huffs a laugh and straightens up a bit, fidgeting with his hat and doing his best not to rub at his still stinging cheek. “Well, I suppose if no one else wishes to add anything—” he paused and cast a wary glance over the rest of the teens, waiting for someone, anyone, to speak up. But no one did, not even Rerugen, despite the man watching him intently.

The moment their eyes met, another brush of clear water sensation slid down his spine and settled into his wings, making Kisuke twitch at the unexpectedness of it all.

(Oh, that wasn’t good, that wasn’t good at all.)

(No one thought kind things about him after watching him apologize.)

“Ah, well, as I was saying!” Kisuke continued with as much cheer as he could, flashing a smile at all the teens to mask his growing discomfort. “If no one has anything else to add, then I suppose it’s time to head home!”

(The sooner he could tuck himself away in his lab, the better.)

(He needed to see, needed to know—)

(Just a little longer.)

(He could wait.)

(He could.)

#replies #prompt fill #cherfleur #erich/kisuke #wingfic

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wildfey · 3 years

Note

Anon from yesterday back again! About the set-up, a post on twitter explained the theory much better and I gotta look up the name. The gist is that Phoenix could've proved that he was set up. He did not have the time to have a forgery done since he got the job for defending Zak only the day before. Plus the money. Instead, there is no evidence at all he even tried. Why? Because he'd seen the courts' corruption before and decided it didn't matter anymore, plus too dangerous.

(continued) You could even point at his reply to the Judge's words and wonder if Phoenix has nothing to say because he knows it's useless to argue. Hidden powers have already decided that they will attack him and try to drag him down.

okay, okay, hello again anon, good to see you back with another excellent ask.

I always think that there are two ways to look at Phoenix's disbarment:

a) that the problem was straight-up with bringing forged evidence into court, no matter what the circumstances were.

b) that the problem was that Phoenix was assumed to have created the forged evidence and bought it into court intentionally.

Ace Attorney really flips around on which of these is true in universe (it's a plot point to some extent in 1-5, 3-3, 4-1, and 4-4) but considering that Phoenix gets his badge back almost immediately after it's proved that the second wasn't the case, I'm going to assume that presenting forged evidence accidentally is either not an issue or less of an issue. This tends to be the fanon majority stance too. (It's worth noting that Edgeworth is implied to have pulled some strings irt getting Phoenix's badge back. Ymmv and so on.)

With our framework safely in place, the question arises: If Phoenix could have avoided punishment, or at least public shaming, by revealing the set-up, why wouldn't he? As you point out, the forgery doesn't make sense once you start to look into it and we know that Phoenix did put a lot of these pieces together. Hell, he could have made these arguments when Misham testified during the Gramarye trial. But he doesn't. (Warning: this is a more headcanon-y meta than my last one, because the 7yg is... a gap and we have very little concrete info on what the fuck Phoenix was up to. He got a kid, worked on jury trials, played good poker + bad piano, and had some sort of frenemyship with Kristoph. That's pretty much all we've got).

Firstly: Corruption. The AA court system is ridiculously corrupt, and at the point that Phoenix is disbarred, he becomes emblematic of this - he's a man with a history of revealing injustice - notably Von Karma & Gant, but even without them he still won some high profile cases - and once he's disbarred, it's implied that the narrative is flipped, turning him into a figurehead for that which he fought against (dark age of the law, etc). The obvious conclusion is that his disbarment was a convenient way to discredit him - powerful and corrupt figures (and in AA there are many) don't need to fear Phoenix Wright if he isn't a lawyer and his reputation is ruined. The counter argument is that Phoenix... has always done some questionable things with evidence (1-5, 2-4, and 3-3 stand out to me). But no more so than anyone else in this fucked-up universe. Either way, Phoenix has always worked in a system stacked against him, and it's very possible that he suspected there to be manoevering behind the scenes (and there was! We know Kristoph existed and was purposefully working against Phoenix.) HOWEVER, I don't believe that any of this would stop him on it's own, because it's been long established that Phoenix Wright does not give a shit about bad odds.

So, what would make him accept it? Anon, you mention danger in your ask, and I do see that as partially true - Phoenix isn't concerned about danger to himself, but he has a kid to care for. I would say, however, that especially when we come to Kristoph, as much of a bastard as he is, Phoenix had no evidence that he could be violent to the point of murder until 4-1. Before that, his influence was long-distance life ruining, rather than active threat (though long-distance life ruining is pretty scary on its own when you're raising a small child with low funds). I do see that as a cause, but one of many, and this is the point where I'd like to go back to the conversation on motivation.

I am going to make the argument here, as I did in the other answer, that Phoenix, in the 7yg and possibly elsewhere, is depressed, and that one symptom of that is a loss of motivation. It's implied by the game itself, and makes more sense than most of the alternatives.

(I won't get too personal, but the years of my life where I dressed like this... not good years lol)

My headcanon has always been that by the point that Phoenix had sorted out his guardianship of Trucy and got himself out of that initial low that came from having his life ruined, it was too late to fix his disbarment and he had to change tracks, and that's when he became interested in MASON. (Not to self-promote, but I'm realising that a lot of what I've said here is rephrased ideas from The Path Once So Clear, so if you want 15,000-ish words on the subject, it's there). Of course, when talking about Phoenix's 7yg depression, I think it's also important to mention that Phoenix in AA4 is very much implied to be putting on an act (which is pretty common in AA4 in general. Most characters in that game have both a public and private face). Being 'Beanix' - eg. the piano/poker player with no prospects who works in a shitty restaurant and takes nothing seriously - is a convenient cover while he works on the things that he doesn't want to be targeted for (and here we come back to the corruption angle).

As to how far the depression helps that act... well, that could be a whole conversation on its own. Once again, I'm very much coming into headcanon here, but I'm reminded of the phenomenon where someone with depression will deliberately exacerbate it, either as a form of self-harm or as some attempt to fit a role (artists are especially prone, due to the 'depressed artist' stereotype. I see it most in the emo scene). Beanix has always seemed to me as someone who is deliberately messing up his own life - he repeatedly provokes Apollo, essentially sabotaging their relationship, he puts himself into dangerous situations for no real reason (this is a general Phoenix trait), and despite the fact that we KNOW Maya and Edgeworth were supportive of him during this period, we never actually see them around, presumably because he's keeping them at a distance. How much of this is for the act, and how much is real?

Again, we've come very much off topic (whoops) but I see a lot of this as another aspect of Phoenix's low self worth - is there a difference between the image he projects of a man who has given up due to being disbarred, and the real Phoenix who is still actively working behind the scenes but is very obviously not doing well because he can't 'save people' - the thing which so much of his identity relies upon? I think there is, but I also think the image too often becomes the reality, and AA4 does carry this underlying theme of how wearing these masks of a public persona can affect your 'true self'.

As always, I genuinely love to see other people's takes on this, either in the tags, in reblogs, or via asks. This one is very headcanon-y, and I know there some entirely different perspectives out there, some of which I really like. (Also this one got to be heavy. Look after yourselves guys.)

#my post #ace attorney meta #Ace Attorney #Phoenix Wright #depression cw #a big one too #and minor mention of #self harm cw #Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney #replies

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dazzlingstarlight · 3 years

Text

25 words for Maggie/OA

Hi everyone! I just finished the 25 word challenge for Maggie and OA! It was definitely a great writing exercise - it turned out as sort of a mix of canons and headcanons and some other ideas - and they do get pretty shippy, so be warned, but if you like Maggie/OA, I hope you enjoy reading. Thank you for the writing words and thank you for encouraging my Maggie/OA obsession!

1. Rumor

There’s a lot of commotion down at the police station today, and a few of the officers are whispering about why the Feds are here – as in the Federal Bureau of Investigation – and rumor has it they’re offering Officer Maggie Bell a new job.

2. Career

Jason says that he’s happy working as a small town news reporter and that he doesn’t want to leave Indiana, but when the FBI offers his wife a job in New York City, he decides that reporting in the Big Apple isn’t a bad career move either.

3. Dull

Maggie is devastated after Jason’s death and the emptiness inside of her is so consuming that she devotes everything she has left to her job because it’s the only thing that dulls the pain.

4. Captain

Maggie hasn’t known her new partner for very long, so when she finds a photo hidden away in his desk, she’s surprised to recognize a young Captain Omar Zidan dressed in Army fatigues.

5. Restaurant

When his restaurant in Little Egypt is rebuilt after the bombing, Mr. Samra is delighted to have OA bring his beautiful partner for dinner, and he loves the way Maggie smiles as she tastes each dish, and he thinks that OA secretly loves her smile, too.

6. Weapon

Kristen admires the way Maggie and OA work together and the way they always have each other’s backs in the field, so when Scola reminds her how to hold her weapon, Kristen wonders if she’ll ever be good enough to have his back in the same way.

7. Dress

Maggie feels a little awkward wearing such a tight, skimpy dress tonight, but the amount of skin she’s showing easily catches their suspect’s eye, and she’s glad that OA takes him down because she doesn’t even want to think about tackling a suspect in this outfit.

8. Friend

OA has never been to Indiana before, and he laughs when Maggie and her childhood best friend squeal like the teenagers they were when they last saw each other, and then he blushes a little when her friend looks him over critically and asks Maggie why she doesn’t bring handsome men back to Indiana more often.

9. Explosive

She’s heard it before, that dangerous tick-tock of a timer, and it doesn’t take Maggie long to find the explosives buried under the floor, and then she’s screaming for everyone to get out, but it’s too late and she’s thrown from the building in a blast of fire and shrapnel, and she’s only conscious enough to realize that OA is carrying her to safety before she blacks out in his arms.

10. Shower

Maggie carefully eases herself into the shower, flinching a little as the hot water washes away the blood and grime and pain from the explosion where she was just a little too close, and she can hear OA knocking on the other side of the door, asking if she’s okay, so she turns off the water and wraps a towel around her battered body and opens the door to let him in.

11. Loyalty

Isobel is proud to offer OA a promotion in another FBI office, an opportunity to lead his own team and mentor a younger partner who would no doubt learn from him, and yet she isn’t surprised when he turns it down because of his loyalty to the partner he already has.

12. Dreams

Anna is a young, pretty housewife, and Maggie hates deceiving her while undercover because the two women become friends over coffee and conversation about life, love, and dreams – and it only takes one bullet for Maggie to destroy all of Anna’s dreams.

13. Tears

Anna takes her last breath before she crumples to the floor, and Maggie struggles to hold back tears as FBI agents breach the house to make sixteen arrests and Special Agent Nestor Vertiz takes Maggie’s hand and leans in close, dropping a kiss on her cheek and telling her that the undercover operation is finally over.

14. Stance

Maggie can already see it coming when OA and Nestor start on round number...well, she’s lost count of how many times her partner and her boyfriend have gone at it so far today, but both men take on that aggressive stance and that steely glare where neither one will back down – and once again, Maggie is stuck in the middle.

15. Kids

When Maggie sees the photos of Nestor’s beautiful, smiling kids, so many emotions collide inside of her, the anger at Nestor for not telling her about them, the jealousy that he has something that she wants so badly, the sadness that Jason was taken from her before they even had the chance, and the nagging suspicion that maybe Nestor isn’t the man she wants to father her children.

16. Car

Maggie is frantic as she hears the muffled cries for help coming from inside the car, and OA doesn’t even think twice about smashing the car window, and it’s not until Maggie pulls the little girl safely into her arms that she decides the father of her own children will be the man who won’t ever think twice about smashing a car window to rescue them.

17. Drift

Sometimes OA wonders if maybe he and Maggie have drifted apart; she was undercover for a long time and he’s teamed up with numerous partners since then, but since she’s been back, they argue more and they don’t always see eye-to-eye on their cases, and they don’t share as many take-out meals together and they just don’t laugh like they used to.

18. Switch

Jubal assigns OA to track down a suspect with Tiffany while Scola questions witnesses on the street with Maggie, and OA appreciates Tiffany’s commitment to the case and Maggie is amused by Scola’s easygoing quips, but after it’s over, they ask Jubal why he switched their partners, and he just shrugs, saying he must have temporarily lost his mind...but of course they don’t believe him.

19. Hug

When they return to 26 Fed and run into each other getting off the elevator, there’s a moment of awkwardness where Scola and Tiffany quickly take the hint to depart, and then OA wraps Maggie in his arms and hugs her tightly because maybe this is the start of getting his partner back.

20. Silk

It’s not OA’s first undercover assignment, but it’s the first time his alias has been a billionaire, and Maggie wants to tease him about the designer suit with a price tag higher than his salary, but he’s already on his way out because there’s a limousine waiting for him, and she’s just fast enough to grab him by the tie, crushing the delicate silk in her hand so she can say OA, be careful.

21. Argument

Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Maggie snaps, angrily yanking her hand away from OA’s grasp, but he retaliates by grabbing her arm and roughly hauling her down the street, muttering something about keeping his woman in line, and then he presses her against the wall in a dark alley, away from the street cams, and his voice is instantly soft and apologetic against her ear, asking if she thinks their suspect bought their little act.

22. Hoodie

The young man takes off running before Maggie can even call out FBI, don’t move, and she sprints after him, worried that she’s going to lose him in the crowd because he’s wearing a hoodie that partially hides his face, but another hooded figure tackles him to the ground before she can catch up to him and Maggie finds herself grinning a little breathlessly as OA pulls off his hood and slaps handcuffs on their suspect.

23. Dinner

Isobel has said more than once that the FBI always gets their man, and this one has been a long, grueling manhunt, but the end result is justice, so she says good work, all of you, and Jubal tells them to go home, and Scola invites Maggie and OA out for a drink with him and Tiffany, but they both decline because they already have dinner plans.

24. Tonight

OA waits for her on the step outside her apartment, and she’s exhausted after the long day they’ve both had, so she starts to rethink going out to dinner, but he already knows and brings dinner with him instead, and Maggie smiles gratefully and melts a little under the heat in his gaze, and when they both step inside, she thinks that maybe she’ll ask him to stay tonight.

25. Promise

The first light of dawn doesn’t wake OA like it usually does because he’s sleeping with Maggie nestled against his side, and she’s always been the one he wants by his side, whether it’s taking down some of the worst criminals or disarming some of the most high-tech bombs or simply lying next to her in his dreams, because throughout it all, their partnership doesn’t ever waver, and OA knows that someday he’ll slide a diamond on her left hand and promise to be her partner for life.

#FBI CBS #Maggie Bell #OA Zidan #Maggie x OA #OA x Maggie #25 words #this was a really great writing exercise #I'm trying to decide if I can turn any of these sentences into fanfic #or I'll just have to keep writing sentences #FBI fanfic

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reogou · 4 years

Text

Promise || bakugou.k

→ pairing: merman!bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

→ genre: fluff

→ warning/s: swear words

→ word count: 5K+

→ A/N: This is my contribution to the Just Add Water || Mermay Event of @bnhabookclub . Lmao I think this is the longest fic I’ve ever written asdfsdggk. Was really frustrated at this cuz I was taking way too long to finish this. And this went to so many edits ajfjfjg. A very big thank you to @writeiolite @clauclaustar @b0kuto and @lcaita for beta reading and for helping me edit this! Credits for @dailydoseofanimescenery for permitting me to edit their gif! Anyways, I hope you liked this! Enjoy!

→ prompts: “I’m trying really hard not to freak out right now.”

“That’s just an urban legend.”

→ tagging: @pretty-settersquad @t-amajiki

The full moon was in a full view as you sat by the shore of the beach, the calming sounds of the sea clearing your mind for a bit. The wind was somewhat cold, but it didn't faze you as you sat by the seashore, feet buried in the sand as you played with them. You could say that today was a great day to relax from all the stress and problems in your life. Your family decided to go on a trip to the Philippines, which was the reason why you're here. It was a great trip, you could say. The people were welcoming and the food here was great. One of your favorites was a street food delicacy called 'Isaw'. It's a barbecued pig or chicken intestines. At first you really didn’t want to try it, but after your mother encouraged you to eat it, you were surprised at how tasty it was.

The tourist spots were also majestic and beautiful. The beach was clean. You get to visit the falls too, which was one of the tourist spots you loved. The view was breathtaking, almost magical. Even though you didn't get to swim in the falls, the place itself was enough to astonish you. You also enjoyed singing karaoke together with the locals. It never bored you since they were all so lovely and always engaged in conversations with you.

This trip was not so bad, you enjoyed it. Really. It's just that something felt like a piece was missing. Something that’s somehow stuck in your head. Or rather, someone. Particularly Bakugou. The ash-blonde had always been in your mind for the past days, lingering and distracting you. You just missed him, very much.

Bakugou had been your crush ever since middle school. Though you only got to hang out with Izuku, the angry boy had always captured your attention. Ever since you had started attending UA, you had been given the chance to become closer to him. Despite his aggressive stance and obnoxious behavior, you never backed out and had always reached out to him. Now that you two had finally become friends, it filled your heart with joy.

Hanging out with Bakugou and the squad was one of the highlights in your week. But being away from them now, the sense of longing had built up inside you, making your heart feel like it had been longing for a particular emotion. You missed them so much. Not just Bakugou, but the whole class.

You trembled as a chill crawled down your spine. Perhaps it was the cold breeze, or the muted eeriness in the vicinity, but you felt like someone was watching your every move. You gripped your jacket close to your body to protect you from the cold, but the unsettling/disturbing feeling had remained; as if it had a diverse intent to make you feel anxious with your situation right now. You were certain that someone was staring at you. Fear crept inside you, but you merely shrugged it off. There's no way that an intruder could be here, lurking in the shadows. The resort was private and your family had exclusive access to it. Maybe it was just some workers or the night guards and maybe it was only your thoughts that had been bothering you to no ends.

Just as your nerves began to calm down, you almost jumped when a hand appeared in front of you making you scream. A loud laugh filled your ears. You turned around, glaring at Sero who was laughing at your reaction. He only laughed harder when you slapped his shoulders.

"Sero! I'm gonna fucking kill you! I almost had a heart attack because of you!" Your dark haired cousin just continued cackling, annoying you even more. How dare he ridicule you when you were genuinely scared by the unnerving feeling you felt just now?! It didn't even help when he surprised you like that! If you were holding a knife right now, you would've stabbed him already!

Out of annoyance, you gripped onto his hair. Sero immediately shouted out in pain but he was still laughing. Goodness, he even had the audacity to cry out of laughter!

"Ouch! Ouch!" He chuckled again, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I promise I won't do it again! Just please let go of my hair!"

You growled at him, still annoyed at his actions. "Stop laughing, you idiot! Or I will really pull your hair out!"

You gave him another slap on the shoulders before letting go of his hair. Sero massaged his aching scalp before chuckling again. He was quick to jump out of your reach before you could lunge at him again. You returned your attention back to the calming sea and hugged your knees, turning away from the pesky prick behind you. Of course, Sero had to annoy you more by sitting beside you. In retaliation, you found yourself admiring the moon from above in hopes of regaining your own composure.

"You're really scary when you get angry you know," he snorted, making you glare at his direction. "You always get so violent. I'm starting to think that Bakugou's attitude have influenced you."

You tensed, just a mention of the ash-blonde made you miss him even more. Sero noticed your change of attitude from earlier.

"You okay?" The dark-haired boy stared at you with curious eyes, his features softening. It was not a secret from the Bakusquad that you had feelings for that angry boy. Not because you were open about it, but your actions were enough for them to know who it is.

Your gaze shifted to your toes. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just missing someone."

Sero gave out a sigh and looked over the moon in front of you. "I miss them too."

You turned your head towards the black-haired boy, resting your cheeks on your knees.

"By now, we should be going back to the dorms after a drink in the bar. We would probably be dragging a drunk Kaminari while Bakugou would lecture him for being a dumbass and drinking too much even though Aizawa-sensei will check on us in the morning."

You chuckled at his words, already imagining the scenario. It's not far from reality, though, but you wouldn’t be sober enough to remember the details since you would be a drunken mess too.

"Yup. It would happen."

As you two talked about the Bakusquad, your memories of UA and Class A crossed your mind. You tried to shake off those thoughts and forget all the problems you left in Japan, just for today. You wanted to break free from all that chaos right now. Someone might question your decisions because you were aiming to be a hero, but then all you did was run away from your problems. But you couldn’t help it. If you let it get to your mind, you will surely lose control of yourself. And you don’t want that.

"Well, enough of that. We'll only miss them more." Sero looked over to you, a glint of excitement slowly flashing in his eyes. "Have you heard of the legend about the Mermaids?"

A mischievous grin was plastered on his face, making you roll your eyes. “That’s just an urban legend.”

"But what if it's true? They say that mermaids of the modern era hide in the deepest part of the sea, some also hide amongst the people to protect their identity. Since they bring fortune and luck, pirates and yakuzas always hunt them down and capture them, the reason why numerous numbers of them are killed due to pain and from the tortures."

"Sero, you're too old for that crap. Do you really believe that mermaids are still alive nowadays? They're probably extinct already."

"You never know! Besides, I also learned from the locals that mermaids often gather in the oceans of the Philippines because they're one of the few countries who don't kill mermaids."

You scoffed at him, not buying his theories. "Even if the Filipinos didn't kill them, they would probably be killed by other countries already."

"But-" Just when Sero was about to defend his theory, your grandmother called you back for dinner, interrupting your conversation. As you walked back towards the resort's lounge, both of you were oblivious of the vermilion eyes gleaming in the dark, staring at your figure.

The sounds of crashing waves filled your ears as you stared at the sea in front of you. The waves were a little rougher today. The moon was still in view, but partially hidden by the clouds. Nevertheless, gazing at the moon could always calm you down. Regardless of where you were, or whether the moon could be seen that night, you always took comfort in knowing that the moon was there to guide you.

You were dragged out of your thoughts when soft murmurs reached your ears. Out of curiosity, you peeked at the other side of the rock formations. The whispers were still a little indistinguishable, so you decided to inch closer. You knew you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but there's just something inside you telling you to find out who was behind those rocks.

“...shouting, Y/N wouldn't notice us! If we ever get caught, it's your damn fault!"

Your eyes widened at the mention of your name. Your heartbeat halted momentarily as you felt your mind go blank. Why were you being mentioned? And more importantly, who the hell were they? Determined to find out, you tip-toed towards them, only to find a familiar head of ash blonde hair in front of you.

Katsuki?

Katsuki scoffed under his breath as he swam towards the shore of Palawan, a Filipino beach that doubled as their hideout. He just came back from Japan after a mission to send some supplies to the western groups. The trip was pretty short since mermaids and mermen were able to swim faster than any other sea creature.

If anyone knew of Bakugou being a merman, they would've laughed their asses off and think that the idea was ridiculous and impossible. But the world is filled with surprises, and one of those is Bakugou being a merman. If Shitty Hair and the other's were to see him in his merman form, they would most likely freak out.

"Bakugou, have you already sent the supplies to the western groups?" One of the leaders of the eastern group greeted him. With a face void of emotions, Bakugou stopped swimming and nodded at the leader, his ash-blonde hair floating with the waters. The leader looked at him in the eyes, examining his expression.

"You know you don't have to do this, Bakugou." The leader spoke, his expression softening. Bakugou only scoffed and turned away, clicking his tongue in the insides of his cheeks.

"Shut up." The leader heaved out a sigh. Bakugou growled as the leader patted his shoulders. He only chuckled at Bakugou's reaction and smiled warmly at the young merman.

"If you really want to see her, she's just by your reach. She's the reason why you're here at the headquarters, right? You did that again yesterday. What's the difference if you do it again?"

Bakugou clicked his tongue once more and glared at the man in front of him. "The hell are you saying, old man?"

Shaking his head, the leader just let the rudeness of the young merman go. After all, the whole clan was used to Bakugou’s attitude ever since he was a child. Even though Bakugou always made snarky comments and pushed them away, they know what he's going through on the lands, and still understand where he's coming from.

"Anyways, I'm gonna head out. You can visit her again if you want. She's at The Coast right now." Bakugou's body tensed after realizing that you were so near. Just a few miles from his reach.

Although he doesn't openly portray his feelings well, he does miss you. A lot. His world just doesn't feel the same when you’re gone. Every time he has to go back to the ocean and leave you, the feeling of loneliness clung to him. It felt like he couldn't live without you in his reach. And it was painful. So painful that all he wants is to come back and be with you, even though you don't know his feelings for you.

"Good luck, young man." Was the leader's last words before he swam away, the pressure from his tail and speed making Bakugou lose balance. He clicked his tongue in exasperation and began to swim towards the headquarters. But it felt like something was pulling him off course, tugging him towards the direction of The Coast, where you were. He tried to ignore it and continue his way towards the headquarters, but the force was too powerful to fight with. The more he struggled, the more he was being dragged towards you. Shutting his eyes closed in frustration, Bakugou heaved out a sigh.

"Ah...fuck it."

As soon as Bakugou's head emerged from the waters, the calming lights from the resort greeted him. He scanned his surroundings, searching for your silhouette. And there you were, sitting by the rocks, your serene face gazing at the moon above you. His eyes softened at your appearance, but he immediately shook his head to empty his thoughts. Careful to not alert your sense, he started swimming towards your direction slowly. Just when he was about a few inches from you, a hand shot out and pulled his arm down the ocean. Bakugou’s brows immediately furrowed at the sudden tug, and he turned around to glare at the culprit, Awase, who was scowling at Bakugou as well.

"What the fuck, Bakugou? Do you want to get caught or something? What the hell was that?"

"Oi, what the fuck, extra?! Who the hell told you to drag me down so easily, huh?! You wanna fight?!" Bakugou's deep voice echoed in the waters, making Awase's eyes widened in fear.

"Shut the hell up man! She could hear you!" Awase hissed at him, tightening his grip on Bakugou's shoulders.

"Let go of me, you asshole!" Bakugou shrugged the other merman's arms off of him, growling.

"Bakugou, this is not the right time to fight! Let's get out of here before she notices us!" Awase tried to pull him away from the rock formations, but Bakugou was persistent and refused to leave, glaring at the merman.

"No fucking way, asshole. You don't have the right to boss me around. And stop following me, will you?!" Before Awase could stop Bakugou, but the ash-blonde was already swimming back to the surface. When Bakugou emerged from the waters, he noticed that you were still staring at the sky above. Bakugou attempted to swim closer towards you, but Awase had already caught up and tried to stop Bakugou yet again. Out of irritation, Bakugou growled at him, making Awase flinch a little.

"Bakugou, I swear to god, let's go before she sees us!" Awase was getting more and more desperate. Why can't Bakugou understand him? If Bakugou got caught, he would face grave consequences. Why was Bakugou acting so reckless?

"What the fuck are you even fussing about?" Bakugou was boiling with anger, and his fury was evident on his face. "If you just stop shouting, Y/N wouldn't notice us! It would be your damn fault if we got caught!"

Suddenly, a small yelp interrupted their heated argument. Awase flinched at the unexpected noise; horror could be seen on his face as he slowly looked at the young girl behind him, who was trying to peek at the two mermen. In shock, you smiled nervously at them, subtly shifting backward for fear that they would harm you.

"Uh... hi?"

"What the fuck?!"

Out of panic, you lost your balance, a loud shriek escaping your lips as you fell into the water. While underwater, you saw their tails as you struggled to reach for air. Thankfully, Bakugou immediately caught you and brought you back to the surface. Your heart was beating erratically as you caught your breath. Preventing yourself from falling again, you grabbed onto Bakugou’s shoulders for support, your florid face buried in the crook of his neck as you desperately reinforced yourself to regain your composure. Once your breathing became steady, you came face-to-face with Bakugou.

What the heck? Your eyes widened as you took in the view in front of you. Why does this man have to be so hot? You watched as the water cascaded down from his soft hair onto his nose, to his plump lips, and to his chiseled jaw. You couldn’t help but gulp at his appearance - he looked like the Greek God of the ocean, Poseidon. While checking him out, your gaze lowered to his biceps, onto his exposed chest and abs. Ohlala~ Can someone bring in some coffee? The bread is already here.

"Done checking me out, Shitty woman?" His sharp words caught you by surprise, as you blushed at the realization that you were checking him out so openly. Out of embarrassment, you buried your head on his shoulders again to hide the blush painted on your cheeks. You wished the waters below you would cut you in half and swallow you alive.

"Now, don't be shy. You can stare all you want." Bakugou chuckled, making you whine and punch him playfully on the chest.

"Shut up."

“I’m trying really hard not to freak out right now.”

Bakugou sighed. Getting caught was not part of his plan. But there's nothing he could do about it. You already found out his secret.

"Y/N." Bakugou started, his voice a lot gentler than usual, causing you to flinch when he called out your attention. Not only is Bakugou a lot softer than he usually is, this was also the first time he addressed you with your real name, and not those stupid nicknames of his. Something inside you tingled at how your name rolled out of his tongue. You never thought that Bakugou calling your name would have an effect on you.

"Oi, are you listening?" Bakugou frowned.

"Oh, sorry." You chuckled awkwardly and scratched the back of your head. "I was not listening. What did you say again?"

Bakugou heaved out a sigh. "I said, now that you already know what I am, you should not tell anyone about this. You understand that?"

You nodded in his direction, understanding his words.

There was a long silence as both of you stared at the moon, sitting on the rock formations once again. Bakugou had moved you here, after the incident a while ago. Awase excused himself after informing Bakugou that he has to take care of this mess before the leaders find out. You couldn't comprehend what was happening even until now. Seeing him sitting beside you, his gorgeous, golden tail in full view, all this felt like a dream. Not to mention the fact that you and Sero were just arguing yesterday about how mermaids and mermen are not real. But here you are, coming face-to-face with one of them. And out of all the mermen out there, Bakugou was one of them.

"Hey, Bakugou. I wanna ask something." You locked eyes with him, your eyes full of curiosity as they stared into his vermilion orbs. Bakugou raised both of his brows in your direction, awaiting your next words.

"What?" The unsettling feeling of anticipation and fear slowly crept up on Bakugou. He may not have shown it, but he was terrified for your reaction when he saw you staring at him with eyes wide in shock. What if you freak out and get scared of him? And now that you're starting to question him, all the emotions that he felt before unwillingly came crashing back. What were you gonna say? Would you ask him about being a merman? Would you ask him to stay away from you? Would you-

"What shampoo do you use?" You felt Bakugou freeze on the spot, an unexplainable expression plastered in his face.

"Hah?!" Out of all the things he was expecting you to ask, the shampoo that he uses was not one of them. Heck, it didn't even cross his mind!

"What did you say?!" You flinched at his shouting, starting to regret that you asked him about his shampoo.

"Is it...is it a secret?" As you spit out the words from your lips, your voice got smaller and smaller too. You backed out slightly, scared of what he might do to you. At this rate, you looked like a puppy who was about to get beat by it’s master. A Chihuahua, on that note.

"What?!" The ash-blonde merman stared dumbfounded at you. In disbelief, he couldn’t help but laugh at your ridiculous question. Meanwhile, you stared at him in awe. His face while laughing was so ethereal that it almost made you cry. Why the fuck does he have to be so beautiful?! Why? Shortly after, Bakugou stopped laughing but was still holding his stomach while wiping the tears away from his eyes.

"Ahh… that was a good laugh after ages." He chuckled at himself and looked over your direction. "This is why I admire you."

At this point, it was your turn to be frozen in place as his words slowly sank down your brain. Seems like Bakugou also realized what he said and froze too. Oh god. He gulped. A blush started to emerge on his cheeks as your face became red too. Trying to hide his embarrassment, Bakugou cleared his throat and focused on the moon hanging above the both of you, hiding his face from your line of sight.

"W-what I mean is that I-I just like your personality. It's not like I l-like you in a romantic way or whatever crap."

You snickered at his pathetic excuse. Even though Bakugou tries to hide it, the redness on his neck and ears didn't go unnoticed by you. You bet that if he turned around right now, his face would be as red as a tomato. You chuckled at that thought which made Bakugou glare at you.

"Stop laughing!" Ignoring his complaints, your laugh got louder when he turned to face you. Your assumptions was correct - Bakugou’s looks did resemble a tomato due to the intense redness on his face.

"You're so cute!" You were laughing so hard, your stomach started to hurt and tears started to well up at the corner of your eyes. The ash-blonde man hissed at you once more, the scowl on his face making it obvious of how annoyed he is right now.

"I said stop laughing! If you don't stop right now, I'm gonna throw you to the water." Despite his threatening words, Bakugou was actually enjoying this moment, seeing your cheerful face in front of him. All of this is just perfect. You're actually cute when you laugh, but there's no way in hell would he say that to your face.

"Ok, ok! I'm gonna stop now." However, you couldn’t stop chuckling. No matter how hard you tried, stopping was not an option right now. Bakugou clicked his tongue in irritation but didn't say anything. Once you've calmed down, you grinned at him, eyes shining with happiness.

"Bakugou…" You started, "I'm happy to see you right now."

Your words struck through Bakugou's heart. He was glad to know that you were content about seeing him. His heart skipped a beat at that thought and the blush on his face was tinted with a shade of crimson yet again. At this point, he was already sure of his feelings for you.

"Y-you should be, Shitty woman." He clicked his tongue again, hiding the smile that started to form. Chuckling, you gazed up at the moon, the stars surrounding it making the scenery even more beautiful. You could just sit here with him all day and you wouldn’t get bored. After all, this was what you wanted, to be with him even for just a bit.

"By the way..." Your brows shot up when Bakugou spoke, his eyes still glued at the moon. When he felt you staring at him, he turned towards you, brows arched.

"Aren't you cold?"

Now that he mentioned it, you were practically freezing right on your spot. The cold gust of wind didn’t help either and only added on to the chilly sensation.

"You should go and change first before you catch a cold." His calloused hands ran through his damp hair, the tiny droplets of water only made him look more handsome to the eye.

"I don't want to…"

"Huh? Why? Aren't you freezing? You wanna die or something?"

You grinned, a small giggle escaping your lips. Heaving out a sigh, you looked back at the moon above you, stars twinkling around the celestial body. You pulled your knees up to your chest as you gazed back at Bakugou, who was eyeing your every movement.

"I don't want this to end."

"What?"

"This," You pointed at him. "You and me." And then to your chest. "Us, conversing peacefully. I don't wanna stop or ruin this perfect moment by going back to my room to change, while knowing that by the time I'm done, you'll be gone."

Bakugou’s heart broke into pieces when he noticed the pain that crossed your crystalline eyes. He knows that you have feelings for him. And he knows he feels the same. He knows what you want, what you need. But he can’t give it to you right now. All he can give you now is assurance. That one day, after all of this comes to an end, he will come back to you.

A heavy sigh came out from his own lips as he shifted his weight to his arms and placed them behind him. There was an emotion that was plastered on his face you couldn’t name. "Go. Change. I won't be leaving." Bakugou glanced over his shoulders, eyes lingering on your face with that soft look of his, his vermilion eyes mirroring your own.

"I'll stay. Just trust me.”

Two sentences. Those five words were enough for your tears to drop one by one, your heart filling with joy and love for the man in front of you. You could genuinely feel the emotion behind his words. The assurance. The promise. His feelings. All of them embraced you as Bakugou stared at you with that emotion close to yours, an emotion you can finally name. The emotion called love.

"...wait."

A splash startled you when Bakugou jumped towards the waters. You waited for him to appear from the waters. You waited. And waited. But nothing. Minutes have passed but there was still no sign from him. Disappointment filled your heart at the thought that he already left. Didn’t he promised to stay? He didn't even wait for you to leave. You tried to think if it as a logical explanation. Maybe he had some errands to do. But would it hurt to say a simple goodbye to you? Was that really hard to do? A sigh escaped your lips as you fumbled with your fingers, distracting yourself from the aching pain growing in your heart. You thought that maybe, your relationship with him somewhat grew. You were certain, so sure that he feels the same way about you too. It may not be the same level as your feelings, but you know that he’s starting to like you too. The blush on his face, the stark emotions on his face, and his softness a while ago were enough clues for you to connect the dots. Bakugou was never that soft to anyone, only to you.

"Hey." You looked over your shoulders when you heard a voice coming from behind you. Seeing the familiar smooth ash-blonde hair of his, the feeling of euphoria and excitement filled your heart when you saw Bakugou below you, hair damp from the waters. He was holding a plastic bag with jeans inside it. You closed your eyes when a light appeared around his body, hurting you a bit. As soon as the blinding light disappeared, you came face-to-face with Bakugou's chest. You shrieked out of shock and moved backwards, your face turning red once more at the realization that the ash-blonde male was naked in front of you.

"What the hell, Bakugou!" You immediately shielded your eyes to prevent seeing something you will regret. “Get dressed!”

Bakugou snorted at your reaction, amusement dancing in his red orbs. “It’s not like you don’t want to see my body.”

“Bakugou!” Bakugou only laughed and got dressed. When he was done, you felt a piece of warm cloth placed around your shoulders, the comfort making you purr a little. He pulled your hands away from your face and handed you a white, glowing pearl. It was so beautiful you couldn’t take your eyes off of it.

You looked up at him with your eyes filled with curiosity, “What’s this?”

“It’s a pearl, dumbass.” His cheeks started growing red and he averted his eyes from you. “It’s a...a p-promise pearl for us...mermen…”

“Oh…” Your cheeks heated up, as a tinge of red hue began to dust it as you blinked at the information he gave, gripping at the blanket wrapped around you. What does he mean by that? Is he...giving you hints? Or what?

"Uh...why would you give this to me?"

"Don't you understand, dumbass? I'm giving that to you as a promise that I will claim you when the day comes. So take that shit and put it in your forehead."

"Huh?!" You felt like your world was spinning. You don't understand why Bakugou was saying this all to you. You felt utterly bewildered by all that’s happening right now.

"Bakugou-," Bakugou clicked his tongue before snatching the white pearl from you. He kissed the pearl and placed it on your lips. Your cheeks burned even more when you realized that you had just kissed Bakugou indirectly. His calloused pads grazed on your soft cheeks as he pulled the pearl away from you, the pearl now flat on his hands. You were amazed at how he did that, but the pain on your forehead distracted you.

"Ouch! Bakugou, it hurts!" You tried to back away from him, but Bakugou placed his hands firmly on the back of your head to stop your struggling.

"Shhh...don't worry, just endure it a little bit more. The pain will go away." He cooed, his hot breath fanning the top of your head, sending butterflies into your stomach. When the pain subsided, you stared at Bakugou's features.

"Bakugou..." He arched his brows while still looking at the pearl on your forehead.

"What?"

"Why are you so...I don't know, soft right now?"

Bakugou stilled at your words. "W-what? I'm not, idiot."

You just smiled at him.

"You promised, ok?"

A long silence fell between the both of you. You thought Bakugou wouldn't answer, but his hands dropped on your shoulders, his grip tightening as he raised your chin up, making you look directly at his eyes.

"I know." He whispered, just enough to reach your ears. "But I wouldn't call that as a promise. I don't want to break that. So I will do all of my best to make you mine. You understand? So don't let any other man get close to you. Especially Tape Face." He gritted his teeth at the memory of you and Sero talking last night.

"What? But he's just my cousin!" You laughed.

"I don't care. Tsk. Now go and change your clothes or you'll catch a cold."

"Ok." You stood up and placed a chaste kiss on his cheeks before running away from him, giggling at yourself. "I'll be back, Bakugou!" You couldn't believe that you just kissed Bakugou on the cheeks. You felt like a highschool teenager at that moment, gushing over her crush.

"Y/N!" You stopped on your tracks and turned around, facing Bakugou whose face was once again red.

"It's Katsuki."

Your heartbeat raced 10 times faster. It was like you ran 3 kilometers in just a minute at how fast your heart raced inside your ribcage. A genuine smile appeared on your lips, smiling cheerfully at the ash blonde just a few meters away from you. At that moment, everything felt so right, everything felt so surreal. Like a happy ending in a disney movie, with the two main characters starting a new journey together. A new chapter in a book, the book that contains the story of you and Bakugou's. Of you and Katsuki's.

"Okay, Katsuki."

253 notes · View notes

starryknight09 · 3 years

Text

A soul for a soul

Febuwhump Day 28: “You have to let me go”

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

“All right you heard the man. Stroke those keys Blue.” Tony said. God, he hoped this all worked out. When Scott, Nat, and Steve had appeared on his and Peter’s doorstep, asking for his help, he’d thought they were crazy, but Peter had been the one that’d convinced him to try. Along with the idea of possibly seeing Pepper again. And it’d actually worked. He’d figured out time travel and now they were so close to fixing everything, but he was still too terrified to hope.

“Trackers engaged.” Nebula announced as she activated the quantum realm time travel technology. She’d been the one that had elected to stay behind to monitor everything.

Tony glanced at the tiny ship in his hand, still unable to believe they were actually going through with this, and if the plan worked, they’d be able to bring everyone back.

“You promise to bring that back in one piece right?” The racoon asked.

“Yeah yeah yeah. I’ll do my best.” Tony replied, stuffing the ship into his pocket.

“As promises go that was pretty lame.” Rocket complained.

Tony ignored him as nerves started to make their appearance. He’d done the math, so he knew it was right, and they’d tested it out on Clint and it had worked, so there was no reason to be anxious, but he was anyway. It wasn’t just the unprecedented time travel thing, it was how much was on the line. They couldn’t screw this up.

“See you in a minute.” Natasha told the group with a smile.

Tony swiped his helmet on, glancing over to make sure his kid had done the same. Peter smiled goofily at him from behind his helmet and gave him the thumbs up. He shook his head. They were about to put their lives on the line to travel back in time to hopefully gather some of the most powerful relics in the universe and here the kid was excited, like it was a game. Tony wondered for the millionth time if it was a mistake to let him tag along, but Peter had nagged him relentlessly to help until eventually he’d had no choice but to give in or lose his sanity. He just hoped he didn’t live to regret it. Tony took a breath and the next second they were catapulted through the quantum realm.

**********

After they dropped Natasha and Clint off on Morag, Tony activated the ship’s pre-set guidance system to take them to Vormir.

“This is totally awesome!” Peter grinned as they shot through space. Tony rolled his eyes but didn’t disagree. Under different circumstances, it would be.

“Whoa.” Peter said as soon as the planet came into view. Tony had to admit it was beautiful. As the ship descended through the atmosphere to drop down onto the surface, Tony couldn’t stop marveling at how alien yet exquisite everything looked. The entire planet was a mix of flat rock and water except for one area where a mountain stood, interrupting the flat horizon. The ship landed near it and they got out. The sky was alive and radiant with different shades of purple and a dazzling eclipse. He could barely keep his eyes on one thing for more than a second before another thing was dragging his attention away. Peter was doing the same thing beside him, gazing all around with his mouth cracked in awe.

“It’s beautiful.” Peter whispered.

“It is.” Tony agreed. “But I don’t see any signs for where we need to go.”

“I think we go there.” Peter’s brow furrowed as he pointed to the top of the mountain.

“And why do you think that?”

Peter shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

“Sure, let’s climb a mountain because you have a feeling.” Tony joked.

Peter rolled his eyes and started walking toward it. “Come on old man. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can go home and have your victory shawarma.”

“I think Rhodey’s right. I’ve been a bad influence on you.” Tony smirked. “But I’m not climbing that.”

Peter turned to him and frowned. “Why not?”

“Kid.” Tony shook his head in mock disappointment as he tapped the nanohousing unit, making it obvious why he wouldn’t be climbing any mountains. “Hop on.”

Peter smiled. “You’re right. That’s a much better idea.”

Peter jumped on his back and they took off to the top of the mountain.

The trip only took a few minutes. They landed and Tony retracted the armor, glancing around for any sign of the soul stone but he saw no evidence of it anywhere. Maybe the top of the mountain had been the wrong idea, but if it was, then he had no idea where to go next. They couldn’t exactly cover the entire planet’s surface on foot looking for it.

“Welcome.” A voice said. Tony jumped and whirled around toward where it’d come from, at the same time engaging his armor. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Peter fall back into a fighting stance.

“Anthony. Son of Howard. Peter. Son of Richard.”

“He knows our names.” Peter whispered to him in horror. Tony took a step forward so he stood partially in front of his kid, protecting him. From what, he wasn’t sure yet. He couldn’t see anything more than the outline of a person in the shadows.

“Who are you?” Tony called out.

“Consider me a guide. To you. And to all who seek the soul stone.”

“Great. You tell us where it is and we’ll be on our way.” Tony said.

The figure stepped forward and Tony could finally see him. Maybe there was a reason the guy stuck to the shadows. He wore grim reaper robes that billowed and flowed around him even though there was no wind. The skin of his face was red and he had no nose. Definitely creepy.

“If only it were that easy.” The weird grim reaper guy spoke again. He kept walking toward them, and Tony tensed, but he passed them by and went all the way to the edge of the cliff. Tony noticed for the first time that weird etchings marred the stone ground as he tentatively followed the man to the cliff’s edge and peered over. It sure was a long way down.

“What you seek likes in front of you.” The red faced guy said gesturing toward the precipice. “As is what you fear.”

“The stone’s down there.” Peter mumbled from his side.

“For one of you. For the other…” Grim reaper guy trailed off ominously before continuing, “In order to take the stone you must lose that which you love. An everlasting exchange.”

That didn’t sound good.

“A soul for a soul.”

Not good at all.

**********

“Do you think he’s making it up?” Peter asked.

Tony had been pacing around for the last twenty minutes and he had yet to come up with an idea. There didn’t seem to be any way around the creepy guy’s decree, and if that was really the case, then they were going to be the group that came back empty handed.

“No.” He answered.

“I don’t think so either.” Peter nodded from where he sat on a nearby stone, deep in thought. “Thanos left here with the stone…without his daughter. That’s not a coincidence.”

“Yeah. It’s not.” Tony shook his head. That was it then. There was no way to get the stone. They’d failed. “I hate to be the naysayer here, but I’m sorry kid. It’s a no go. Let’s head back to the ship.”

“What?”

“I told you when we started this that if it ever got to the point where the cost was too high, I was going to pull the plug. Well, we’re there. It’s time to go home.”

“No!” Peter stood, face angry. “We can’t just give up! We’re so close!”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Tony stood his ground. “We don’t for sure that everyone else is going to succeed. It’s not worth the gamble.”

“But what if they do? What if everyone gets their stone except us? What if we’re the reason we can’t fix things? You heard Scott. There’s only enough Pym particles for one trip a piece. If we go home, we can’t come back here. This is our one chance!”

“It’s not a chance!” Tony lost his temper. “It’s suicide.”

Peter crossed his arms and whirled away to face the cliff edge. Tony watched as Peter took a deep breath and whispered, “It’s half the universe. One life…for half the universe. That’s not a gamble and you know it.”

The worst part was he knew the kid was right. Wasn’t forfeiting his own life worth it if it gave them the chance to save half the universe? He’d been so sure this was going to work, but he hadn’t thought he wouldn’t live to see it. Deep down he wasn’t ready to go. He wanted to watch Peter grow up and he would’ve liked the chance to see Pepper one last time. But he’d do what needed to be done.

“You’re right kid.” He closed his eyes in resignation.

“I know.” Peter had never sounded so sad about being right.

“I guess we both know who it’s got to be.” Tony said, trying to stay brave as he moved to stand in front of his kid.

“I guess we do.” Peter nodded solemnly. “When all this is over, the world’s going to need a true hero around to help them sort everything out.”

“It will.” Tony agreed. And Peter was that. He was the best of them. The truest hero Tony had ever known in every sense of the word.

Peter swallowed hard and threw himself at Tony, hugging him hard enough to almost hurt. “I love you.” Peter said, voice breaking.

“I love you too.” Tony hugged back and took a deep breath, his nose in Peter’s hair, inhaling his kid’s scent, the last time he’d ever get to experience it. Tears sprung to his eyes and he tried to blink them away. He didn’t want to make this any harder for Peter than it had to be. He heard Peter sniffle in his hold and he knew his kid was doing the same thing, crying but trying not to let him see.

“Don’t cry kid.” He kissed Peter’s hair. “I’ve had a good run. No regrets. Dying to save half the universe isn’t such a bad way to go out.”

Peter pulled back from him abruptly, frowning at him. “I’m starting to think we mean different people here.”

“No.” Tony said instantly. “No kid. It makes the most sense that it’s me.”

“No!” Peter took a step back. “The world needs Ironman. It needs Tony Stark. It doesn’t need me. I’m the obvious choice here.”

“No. You’re the best of us. You’re better than Ironman and Tony Stark combined.” Tony argued because he knew it was true.

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not kid. I’m not.” Tony closed the distance between them and put his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “You have your whole life ahead of you. And it’s going to be so amazing. You’re going to be so amazing. These past five years, watching you grow up, they’ve been some of the best of my life. I’m so proud of you kid.”

“There’s really nothing I can say to change your mind?” Peter asked softly.

“No. Never. It’s never going to be you.” Tony squeezed his shoulders.

Peter let out a heavy sigh and he ran a hand through his hair before nodding. “Ok. Ok.”

Tony nodded and the pulled his kid in for another hug. One last time. When they finally broke apart, Peter had tears running down his cheeks and Tony could feel his own threatening to do the same. He grabbed the nanohousing and pulled it off, handing it over to Peter. He couldn’t wear it to do this. He had a failsafe programmed into it that would sense a fall and automatically activate the armor.

“Take care of this for me.” He said wetly, and Peter nodded as he took it, but he seemed distracted. “And when you get everyone back, tell Pepper I love her.” As far as last words went, he didn’t think those were too bad.

He didn’t wait for Peter to respond as he turned and took a step toward the cliff’s edge. A split second later, Peter grabbed his upper arm and yanked him backward, hard enough that he stumbled a few steps and fell to the ground. He figured the kid must’ve gotten cold feet and he was already thinking up ways to try to convince him when Peter tossed the nanohousing over Tony’s head. His eyes followed it to where it landed a good twenty feet behind him. His mouth gaped because he didn’t understand why Peter would do that, but when he looked up at his kid’s face for an answer and saw resolve there, he understood.

“Tell her yourself.” Peter said and then turned and started running toward the cliff’s edge.

“No!” He screamed, instinctively activating the gauntlet on his wrist. He sloppily aimed at the ground near his kid’s feet and fired. If it was between hurting him in a way he could heal from or letting him jump to his death, Tony was going to pick the former. The rock near Peter’s feet exploded and sent him flying sideways, rolling over the ground. Tony didn’t take the time to look at where he stopped. As soon as he’d fired the shot, he picked himself up off the ground and started running toward the cliff’s edge. Almost. Almost. He was there. He kicked off as hard as he could and felt both his feet leave the ground. He’d done it.

And then something slammed into him. Or someone.

“No!” He yelled again but it was too late. He and Peter were falling together. Until they suddenly came to a jarring stop. Tony felt the jerk around his hips and saw that Peter had wrapped a web around him and attached it to the cliff above. No. Tony looked down. Somehow he’d managed to grab Peter’s wrist and he held on now as hard as he could.

“What were you thinking? That was so stupid.” He couldn’t help the words that automatically crossed his lips. He was so scared and angry. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Peter was supposed to let him jump. How was he supposed to haul them both up the cliff now without the nanohousing. He tried to reach with his other arm to grab ahold of his kid’s arm but he couldn’t reach with the way he was dangling from the webbing. Although maybe that wouldn’t matter. It looked like Peter was close enough to the cliff face that he could reach out and stick to it. It should be easy enough for him to climb back up. He did it on skyscrapers all the time. That could work. “Pete, listen to me. Just…get your feet over to the rock and climb back up and then you can pull me up. When we get back to the top, we can talk this out. Ok?”

Peter said nothing, just looked down at the immense distance between him and the ground and then stared back up at him.

“Kid, come on.” Tony said, panic coloring his tone, but he couldn’t help it. He could feel Peter slipping.

“You have to let me go.” Peter implored and Tony’s heart plummeted.

“No.” Tony shook his head, holding on as hard as he could. He wasn’t going to let go. Never. He’d hold on until the end of time. They’d hang here forever if that’s what it took. He wasn’t losing his kid.

“Let me go.” Peter insisted and Tony could feel him slipping further out of his grip.

“Don’t be stupid. Grab-grab onto the wall.” Tony pleaded.

Peter shook his head.

“Peter, please. Don’t-don’t do this.” He begged and his voice broke as tears came to his eyes, blurring the image of his kid. His stupid, idiotic, self-destructive kid.

“I have to.” Peter said. “And it’s not your fault.”

Tony blinked to clear his vision and felt the tears run down his cheeks. “No. Don’t. Please.”

“I love you.” Peter said it like a promise and gave his arm a squeeze before letting go so Tony was the only thing holding onto him again.

“I love you too. Peter please. Please don’t do this.”

“Tell May I love her.”

Tony was all out crying now.

“I’m sorry.” Peter whispered.

“Please no.” Tony didn’t know who he was pleading to. Peter. God. The fates. Anyone that could possibly listen and intervene to stop this unimaginable thing from happening.

“It’s ok.” Peter said, looking up at him, face serene, without fear.

“Please.” Tony begged one last time.

But Peter didn’t listen. He planted his feet against the cliff’s edge and kicked off, tearing out of Tony’s grip.

“No!” Tony yelled as his kid fell, reaching his arm out as if he could still catch him.

Peter didn’t scream. The fall seemed to last forever and be over all too soon at the same time. He hit the ground, so far below that it was inaudible, but it might as well have been an atomic bomb going off for how it hit Tony. He could barely see him because of how far away he was but he could tell he wasn’t moving, his limbs were splayed like a puppet with its strings cut.

“No!” He let out a guttural scream, scrunching his eyes shut as he sobbed. He’d lost his kid. He couldn’t do this. This pain wasn’t survivable. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t go on. He didn’t want to. He wanted to hang there until the webbing dissolved and he could fall just like Peter had. The rational part deep inside him whispered he couldn’t, because if he didn’t return with the stone, then Peter’s sacrifice would’ve been for nothing. But right now he couldn’t bring himself to care. And then something happened.

A burst of light emitted from the stones below, so bright it was almost blinding. He closed his eyes and tried to shield them with his hand, turning his head away, but even through his lids it was blinding. And then it was gone.

When he cracked open his eyes again, he wasn’t hanging from the cliff anymore. He was lying in a shallow pool of water and everything had an orange glow. Where was he? Had he fallen and died to? Was this the afterlife? If it was, then where was Peter? He glanced around frantically until he spotted the shape of the mountain off in the distance. Had he…teleported? How? Why? In the next second he realized his fist was closed over something. He pulled it out of the water and opened it. An orange stone sat in the palm of his hand with the light emitting from it that almost seemed to beat like heart. The soul stone.

A soul for a soul.

He wrapped his hand around it so tightly any other material besides rock would’ve been crushed. It hadn’t been worth it. Half the universe be damned. He’d never forgive himself for this. He crumpled forward and cried.

He had no idea how much time had passed before he managed to pull himself together long enough to push the button to return back to their time. The way it was set, they all arrived back at the same time regardless of how much time they’d spent in their alternate timeline missions.

His feet hit the ground. Everyone glanced around at each other, quickly noticing the absence of one of their group.

“Where’s Peter?” Nat asked.

Tony fell to his knees.

**********

Telling May Parker what had happened to her nephew was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do in his life. And he’d been captured by terrorists, waterboarded, poisoned, beaten up by a supersoldier, fought against a purple god, and been stranded for weeks in space. But having to relive Peter’s last moments and his own failure as he watched her face crumple remained one of the worse moments of his life.

He had Pepper back, and he should’ve been ecstatic about it, but Peter’s death hung like a grim pall over everything. He had loved Pepper more than anything, but he couldn’t love her now. Not the way she deserved when his heart had been irrevocably broken by losing his kid.

After the snap, he and Peter had only had each other. Peter had become a son to him in every way but blood. And he’d had to watch him die. He’d had to watch him literally slip through his fingers. After losing him, Tony didn’t know how to move on. He didn’t know how to live. Everything reminded him of Peter. Two weeks after the reversal, he moved out of the city to a secluded cabin in the woods and promptly fell off the wagon. Pepper broke up with him three months later. He didn’t blame her. Honestly, he was impressed she’d lasted that long.

**********

Tony heard his front door creak open but he didn’t bother lifting his head up from where he laid on the couch with a bottle of scotch in hand to see who it was. Probably Rhodey. He was the only one that hadn’t completely given up on him yet even though he knew it was only a matter of time.

“You’ve clearly seen better days.” Came the last voice Tony wanted to hear.

Tony looked over at him, narrowing his eyes, but it didn’t change the fact that his vision was still blurred. He tried closing one eye and then the other, but no luck. Oh well. He took another swig of scotch, embracing it.

“What do you want?” He asked testily. “Because last I checked, you shouldn’t even know where I live.”

“You really think that’s an obstacle for me?” The man asked as he arched an eyebrow at him.

“Right.” He took another drink. “I forgot you were a wizard.”

“A practitioner of the mystical arts.” Dr. Strange corrected.

“Uh huh whatever. What are you doing here?”

“It’s nice to see you too.” Dr. Strange said sarcastically, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “As it so happens, I think you can help me.”

“In case you haven’t heard, I’m retired.” He grumbled, closing his eyes as if that would make the wizard magically disappear.

“You’ll want to hear what I have to say.” Dr. Strange said confidently. “I think you’ll find we can help each other.”

“You can’t help me Strange.” He said with more despair than he’d meant to show. “Not unless you can resurrect the dead. And last I checked, not even your magical ass could do that.”

“You’re right. I can’t bring someone back to life in the way you’re thinking. But I can still give you what you want.”

“I’m a little drunk right now, but I’m pretty sure that makes no sense.” Tony slurred, taking another pull off the scotch bottle.

Strange snatched the bottle out of his hands but it took a couple seconds for it to register. “Hey.” He protested.

“As loathe as I am to admit it, you’re the only one that can help me. The only universe whose Tony I can take without causing a catastrophic incident within the multiverse.”

“I’m sorry, the what now?” Tony frowned. “Are you speaking English?”

“Yes. Get up.” Strange tugged on his arm and Tony groaned.

“I’m fairly sure I’m the last person you want to help you. Haven’t you heard? I destroy everything I touch.”

“You are a colossal masochist. That is true.” Strange nodded as if that response made sense and Tony had no choice but to come with him as the man dragged him roughly off the couch.

“Before we go, is there anything you’d like to bring with you?”

“You mean besides the scotch you took away?”

Dr. Strange turned to face him, looking into his eyes as he said, “I’m serious Stark. If you come with me, you’ll likely never return here.”

“Here as in here.” Tony gestured to the cabin. “Or here as in…”

“Here as in your universe.” Strange answered.

Tony blinked a few times, trying to figure out how he felt about that through a thick fog of alcohol. He shrugged. It wasn’t as if he had any burning desire to stay. Or anything here he couldn’t leave. Then he remembered.

“Just one thing.” He mumbled and walked over to the kitchen, picking up a framed photo of him and Peter from when they’d posed for his internship picture.

As he walked over, Strange shook his head and took the photo from him, setting it down on the nearby counter. “You won’t need that.”

“What?” Tony asked, totally confused now.

Dr. Strange smirked at him and started waving his hands around, forming a green circle instead of his usual gold ones. “Where we’re going, you’ll have the real thing.”

Tony’s eyes widened but before he could ask anything further, Strange had grabbed him by the arm and yanked him through the portal.

“I still don’t see why we need him.” Was the first thing Tony heard as he they stepped through the portal.

**********

“Yeah from what Strange says he’s a complete mess in their world.”

“We need him because Strange says we need him.”

“Exactly.” Dr. Strange said, announcing their presence. The group of Avengers were assembled in what looked like a spaceship. They all turned to face him. Sam. Thor. Bruce. The Guardians. Clint. Rhodey. Captain Marvel. Bucky. Tony grit his teeth at that one.

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” Rhodey smiled and crossed the distance between them to pull him into a hug. “It’s great to see you man.”

“You too.” He mumbled. This definitely wasn’t his Rhodey. This man still looked at him with love in his eyes instead of disappointment.

“Whew you smell like a distillery.” Rhodey joked and pulled away, eyes running over his entire figure hungrily as if feasting on the very sight of him.

“Ok… What’s going on?” He finally asked, directing the question at Strange.

“You didn’t tell him?” Sam asked. “You just took him?”

“I told him enough. It’s not as if I was taking him from a very promising life. Look at him.”

“I resent that.” Tony complained even though he knew it was true. “But some uh explanation wouldn’t hurt.”

“The Tony in our universe is dead and according to the wizard here we’re going to need him, or you, to be able to beat this thing.” Clint said.

“What thing?” He asked, still not understanding, and not even sure how to begin processing his own other universe’s death.

“That.” Strange said, pointing out the spaceship’s viewscreen.

“Is that…” Tony took a step closer as if that would change what he was seeing.

“Earth.” Clint answered. “Yeah.”

The entirety of it was surrounded by what looked like a red energy field.

“What happened to it?”

“You know how Vision died? That happened in your universe too, right?”

Tony nodded.

“Well, here in our universe, Wanda didn’t take it well. She sort of created her own entirely made up reality where Vision is still alive and they have two kids and play happy family, but then it apparently got away from her, and now it’s consumed the entire world.” Clint explained as if he was bored.

“And you think I can help?” Tony asked in surprise, still not completely sure that this wasn’t some booze-induced hallucination.

“I know you can.” Strange answered with certainty.

“Fine. Say I can. What’s in it for me?”

“There’s the Stark we all know and love.” Sam said sarcastically.

“In our universe, after the snap was reversed, Thanos and his army came through from a different timeline.” Strange said.

Tony frowned. That was different.

“That didn’t happen in your universe because Nebula stayed behind, but in ours she didn’t, and Thanos detected her and captured her.” Strange continued. “In order to win in the fight against him, our Tony Stark took the gauntlet and snapped, destroying Thanos and his army. And dying in the process.”

Tony rubbed a hand over his head. Wow.

“But I think the difference that the main difference you’ll be interested in is that in our universe, Natasha and Clint went to Vormir.” Strange explained and Tony felt something in his gut twist. “Natasha sacrificed herself for the soul stone.”

Clint looked away as if he couldn’t bear the truth of the words. Tony knew exactly how he felt. But then the reality of what was said hit him, and he almost couldn’t get out the breath he needed to speak fast enough.

“In your universe Peter’s still alive.” He whispered, almost afraid to believe it.

Strange nodded sagely.

“Then where is he?” Tony glanced around frantically as if the kid was hiding behind someone and waiting for this exact moment to pop out and surprise him. Honestly, he wouldn’t put it past him.

“He’s down there.” Strange pointed to the glowing red Earth.

Tony nodded. “Ok. I’ll help you.”

**********

“Whoa that is so trippy.” Peter said as Wanda’s control over him faded. He stared at his hands, turning them up and down, hands he now had control of again. Being mind controlled hadn’t exactly hurt, but it hadn’t been enjoyable either.

A gold circle appeared a few yards in front of him and Dr. Strange walked out of it a second later. Followed by… Peter’s jaw dropped. It wasn’t possible. Could he still be under Wanda’s mind control and not know it?

“He’s real.” Dr. Strange said before Peter could ask.

“Mr. Stark.” Peter said in awe at the man in front of him. “But…how?”

Tony walked forward and threw his arms around him, hugging him as if he was afraid Peter would disappear.

“He’s from a different universe.” Dr. Strange explained. “I brought him here to help us with Wanda.”

“Oh.” Peter didn’t know what else to say, so he just hugged the man back.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you kid.” Mr. Stark mumbled into his hair. Peter heard him take a deep breath as if savoring his very scent.

“I think I do.” He mumbled, reveling in the feeling of his mentor solid in his arms, something he’d never even dreamed he have the chance at again.

Tony kissed the side of his head and pulled back, staring at him like he was something precious. Peter could see tears in his eyes.

“I lost you in my universe kid.” He said and then pulled him back into another hug. “And I know you’re not really my kid and I’m not really your Tony, but maybe we could still be something to each other?”

Peter nodded in the hold. “I’d like that.” He felt like he had emotional whiplash. One minute he was being mind controlled, and the next his mentor but not his mentor was back from the dead and hugging him.

“God, you have no idea how happy I am to have you back.” Tony mumbled and Peter knew exactly how he felt.

Strange cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Hey Strange.” Tony called out as the man was forming his gold portal. “Thank you.”

The wizard gave him a nod and then disappeared.

“So you’re from a different universe?” Peter asked. It’d been a lot of information to take in.

“I am.”

“But you’re…staying here?” Peter asked hesitantly.

“I am.” Tony said. “I’m staying kid. If that’s ok?”

Peter felt something in his chest unfurl for the first time since the final battle with Thanos. He smiled. “It’s more than ok.”

#febuwhump2021 #febuwhump #irondad

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.14

God’s Will and Fate’s Jokes

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2) x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?) Word count: 2900

Summary: Steve is not the only man out of time to be found in New York, Manhattan. And he sure as hell isn’t the only one struggling with what he’s done and lost.

Warnings: mentions of violence, guns and death, swearing, a bit of a talk about religion

A/N: Ah, you want to know how the reunion will turn out? Understandable… So I’m gonna insert a Bucky chapter, with fragments of how he had been. I promise two little cameos from a Netflix TV series in exchange though, so hopefully I can be forgiven.

Story masterlist

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The wind was gradually getting chillier with New York City further diving into autumn. Bucky readjusted his leather jacket to shield himself from it, but it was just a force of a habit. He had been frozen – several times, as he remembered now – and cold didn’t bother him for a while now. This was barely ‘cold’. His boots shuffled on the pavement with each step, a noise that seemed to drown in the busy streets.

The evening was slowly drifting into a night time, but in Manhattan, the streets never really fell into silence, always pulsing with life, sometimes calmer, mostly rapid though.

Bucky shoved his gloved hands into the pockets of his jeans and sighed, stopping in front of the rather tall building – then again, this was New York, tall meant something different here – , his destination.

His mind was preoccupied, for the millionth time lost in the past; for a change, not in his own.

The fact he had been unfrozen during the decades gave him an advantage of being able to keep up with modern times; and there was nothing that couldn’t be found on the Internet, especially when one knew where and how to look, maybe even peak where others couldn’t for the lack of access or ability.

Then again, Captain America’s life story wasn’t exactly a heavily guarded secret and Bucky couldn’t decide whether he couldn’t believe his eyes while reading, or whether he actually wasn’t surprised at all when learning what his former best friend had been up to after he (and the rest of the world, for that matter) thought Bucky was gone.

He had dived a plane which was about to level New York and other great cities of America to the ground. Everyone thought he died, but instead, he was trapped in ice; Bucky prayed Steve had been unconscious the whole time, not feeling the biting cold. Then, the proclaimed war hero was found and been woken up seventy years to the future, throwing himself into a fight as soon as it was needed.

And wasn’t it damn necessary – aliens attacked the Earth. Bucky now remembered seeing a lot of weird inexplicable shit. But still, this? What the hell.

The thing was, despite that, Steve’s life wasn’t all bad. He became a part of a band of superheroes and… the punk finally found his soulmate, the one he could never find before, because she hadn’t been born yet, which was insane enough on its own. However, he seemed happy.

Naturally, it had to nosedive after that; the woman of his heart and soul was dead.

Some nuthead – and to Bucky’s rage, a nuthead Bucky knew, he had been part of Hydra, which he now hoped didn’t exist anymore, because he read about Pierce being locked up along with others – had murdered her in the worst possible way right in front of Steve.

If Bucky ever considered becoming a murder machine again, after everything he knew he had done, it was upon that revelation. He wanted that man’s head. He wanted to tear him limb from limb. He was a villain, sure, that need was natural, but he had hurt Steve on top of that. No one hurt Steve and got away with it.

Apparently, the man didn’t, because he was blown up along with everyone in the building minus Steve.

Still. If Bucky ever questioned whether he still had a heart, he was sure upon that realization; he did have one and it bled for his best friend.

He wished he could be there for him, but he wasn’t ready. He didn’t know if he could even show up after everything his hands had done, no matter who forced them. He didn’t know if he could mug up Steve’s life even worse.

It was weeks now since he had been freed and his feet led him to a church – the one church where people said goodbye to Steve’s soulmate. Bucky had read about it too, her funeral; a small service for her friends and family, but many others wished to express their condolences, say thank you to the poor soul who lost her life to theirs and their loved ones and they chose this church to do so.

Bucky had figured he could pay his respects as well.

What he didn’t count on was the roller-coaster of emotions hitting him when seeing her picture, her smile radiant and brighter than the candles illuminating her photograph.

She was pretty, there was no denial. The photo printed was from Avengers’ archives, he read as much – Bucky had no doubt that it was Steve who put that bright smile, lighting up her eyes, on her face. He believed Steve had found true happiness with her and it wasn’t just because she was his soulmate or because Bucky watched the video evidence as she faced her death and showed great bravery and kindness or because he saw Steve’s desperation in the very same footage.

Bucky simply knew; the woman seemed to truly love Steve and that was all Steve ever needed. A woman to love him unconditionally.

Life was cruel and fucked-up to take that away from him.

No, Bucky didn’t count on the rage and heartbreak chasing tears into his eyes. Neither did he expect someone to pull him out of his musing.

“Did you know her, son?” an amiable male voice caused him to wince and mentally yell at himself for a dumb lack of awareness of his surroundings. Had it been a Hydra agent, Bucky would have been dead.

He forced himself to calm his sprinting heart, the rush of adrenaline unnecessary when the only person disturbing him was an old priest with nearly bald head and a soft soothing tone of voice.

His breath shuddered.

“No, Father. I didn’t.” I knew her soulmate, Bucky could have added, but he couldn’t afford to draw attention to himself; everyone knew who her soulmate was and it would lead to uncomfortable questions. Instead, Bucky’s mind supplied him with an easy lie. “But she had her life ahead of her, all of it. She must have been happy with her soulmate if he made her smile like this.”

The shorter man nodded, removing a candle that burned out from the altar with her picture – Bucky hadn’t noticed before with many others still warming up the space with their tiny flickering flames.

“Indeed. And she surely made him equally happy,” the priest hummed, sorrow darkening his face. His eyes carried a hint of curiosity, watching Bucky inconspicuously. ”It’s a shame for such joy to be stolen by madmen. Her soulmate… I pray for him as much as I do for her soul. Broken heart heals much longer than broken bones.”

No shit. Especially when it comes to supersoldiers with enhanced healing.

“Not wrong there,” Bucky whispered, hesitantly reaching out to the small metal basket with candles and a thin piece of wood to borrow the flame from another.

Bucky didn’t believe in God for almost seventy years now. Still, when the wick caught fire, he sent a silent prayer for both Steve and his gal.

“Still, you seem troubled by more than that,” the priest whispered and made a kind offer. “You could confide me in. It is what I am here for. Perhaps it would ease your sorrow.”

I don’t think so. Neither will it ease the craving after tearing a dead man’s head off.

“I don’t think you could help, Father, no offence. I’ve never been a good Catholic and lately even less so. And you sure don’t want to hear what troubles me.”

Despite a gentle nod of understanding, he nudged Bucky once more. At the very same moment, the soldier could hear the heavy door of the church open a crack and a man walk in with a periodic taping of a thin stick.

“I only wish to help you. If something of what you possibly have done heavies you… I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone. I’m not allowed.”

“I believe you, Father. But I’m not sure your own conscience would allow you to keep quiet in my case,” Bucky admitted honestly, shifting under the presence of another man despite the fact he wouldn’t be able to hear them. A periodic tapping the man carried with him was getting to Bucky’s nerve already.

He should leave. Another lost soul seeking the help of a church was a good excuse anyway.

“Trust me, son. Whatever your sins are, I’m certain I have heard worse.”

“No, Father. You haven’t,” Bucky muttered under his breath, aware of the stranger getting closer.

He turned to him, surprised to find a man of such built, carrying a walking stick for blind. His stance and body was one of a fighter, even when cladded in a cheap suit, red-tinted glasses preventing his real thoughts from displaying on his face. He appeared blind but not quite. To Bucky, he was giving an impression of pretence, at least partial.

He could only wonder why; however, he could do so on his way out.

“I’m pretty sure he did,” the newcomer joined their barely audible conversation without permission and a scowl twisted the Father’s face.

The fact that the not-so-blind? man could hear what Bucky was saying had everything in Bucky scream fight or flight.

“Matthew. What brings you here at this hour?”

The suited man shrugged light-heartedly; Bucky didn’t believe him for a second. “I thought I’d stop by. See how you’re doing.”

“Always with the jokes, Matthew. It’s not decent.”

It wasn’t. Except if Bucky was more comfortable at the moment, he would have snorted in amusement. This man was clearly comfortable in his own skin, but the skin was a charade too. Bucky didn’t want to stay to crack the mystery though.

“Forgive me, Father, then.”

“Did you come to confess?” the Father continued and Bucky recognized this was as good opportunity to leave as any, making space for the blind man to approach the priest more easily.

A brief smile passed over the Matthew’s lips. “No. Like I said, only wanted to make sure you were alright.”

The backing out of the soldier was less inconspicuous this time, caught by the priest.

“You don’t need to leave, son. Matthew is a dear friend.” And there’s more to him than it seems, Bucky was certain.

Were his the sins Father had mentioned? This man’s? Bucky wouldn’t be surprised considering the dangerous vibe he was radiating.

“I’m Matt,” the man offered swiftly and held out his hand for Bucky to shake.

Bucky was stupid enough to accept it and really, wasn’t he out of his game to make such an idiotic mistake. “…James.”

“Rather hot for gloves, isn’t it?”

Bucky fought the urge to punch this man for pointing it out and took a deep breath.

“My past injuries can… make people uncomfortable when seen.”

“I won’t see them,” the blind man challenged with the light tone to his voice again, his head tilting to side and Bucky could see the corners of his mouth twitch. It gave him the impression of the man wanting sent him a wolfish grin.

And that was the time to get the fuck out. What was Bucky thinking anyway, showing up in here?

“Matthew… perhaps it would be for the best if we leave James to his prayers and have a talk over a latté, if you’re interested at this hour?” the priest offered in a conciliatory manner, beckoning to the back for Bucky’s benefit – or for Matthew’s too?

How deeply ran the lie, the pretending? Bucky didn’t want to hang around to find out.

“Yes…” Matt hesitated, but nodded. “Perhaps. James.”

“Matt. Father.”

Bucky strode between the two lines of the pews, kind words reaching his sensitive ears.

“My invitation still stands, if you ever feel like talking. If you’re not comfortable confessing the traditional way… there’s always coffee. Same rules apply for me.”

Bucky nodded, definitely not planning on taking him upon the offer. “I appreciate the offer, Father. Goodnight.”

Since fate was a cranky bitch, a night full of horrors of the past had him wandering the streets before the sun even began to rise to the horizon.

The Father didn’t seem overly surprised that Bucky showed up again, at such ungodly hour no less.

“James. Latté?” he asked, unfazed almost.

Bucky wanted to question his decision. But he was an old man, older than the priest himself and he could believe his secret would be kept.

He nodded.

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Opening to someone about the horrors he had lived through and had been a source of was surreal. No, scratch that, it was fucking weird and telling that to a priest was twisted and seriously messed up.

Yet, once Bucky started, he couldn’t stop the verbal vomit, his hands in his hair, tears welling up in his eyes and the hoarseness of his voice that seemed to be impossible to disguise.

And the whole time he talked, the man sitting opposite to him – not touching his latté either – listened intently with compassionate and understanding eyes full of sorrow and offering kind words and his own insights of a person watching the event from a reasonable distance, far enough not to get tangled in the emotional turmoil.

It caused Bucky’s breathing to turn so difficult that he thought he might actually suffocate, but he didn’t. He might be close to choking on his own spit though at priest’s forgiving words several times, words of redemption, a chance on it only proven by a mysterious man building miracles by a flick of a hand.

“You were a victim, James. Just like anybody else,” the Father explained his point of view slowly and with patience battling the one of saints themselves. “These are not your errors to carry with you like a burden. Forgive yourself. And allow your friend the same thing. I’m sure he could benefit from having someone by his side in a time difficult like this.”

Bucky gulped, looking away as he felt awkward burn in his eyes again, a lump in his throat never disappearing.

“I can’t. At least not yet, I’m-“

The sudden change of atmosphere was palpable, the safe environment carefully created by the priest vanishing at instant as Bucky’s instinct screamed about someone else’s presence in the church – someone else’s besides the God’s servants. His senses tingled, hairs rising at the back of his neck.

“Someone’s coming.”

Father Lantom seemed once again rather unfazed, his gaze shifting to his watch.

“Well, it is after six a.m., James.”

“Father-“ the soldier warned him breathlessly, otherwise rising to his feet soundlessly, sneaking to the door, opening them for a crack to glance at the newcomer that made his heart beat out of his chest.

One peek and he swiftly pressed his back to the wall, his head hitting it with a soft thud, eyes falling shut. Even with eyes closed, he could still feel the priest’s worried gaze.

“James?”

Bucky took a deep breath, arguing with his frantic mind and heart to calm the fuck down.

It was alright. He just needed to get the Father to cause diversion and he would sneak out, making no sound. He excelled at disappearing.

“Go greet him, Father. Don’t tell him a word about having me here. Please.”

The desperate plea was enough to light up a flare of recognition in the priest’s eyes, no matter how hard it made him frown.

He sighed, sounding resigned.

“I cannot do that choice for you, James, even if I wished. I promise to keep quiet.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, beckoning to the other man to move.

The soldier stayed aligned with the wall, waiting for the right moment. It was killing him, freaking him out and yet luring him in, a mess of emotions, memories and possible scenarios of reunion playing out in his head, ranging from a fistfight to a hug even.

He needed to snap out of it.

He wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“Steven. What a nice surprise,” the priest greeted softly and Bucky barely contained the whine drawn to his lips. His hands curled up into fists and he bounced off of the wall, quickly assessing the most secure escape route. ”Do you require my assistance?”

“Not today, Father Lantom, but thank you.”

It was like a slap to Bucky’s face, a punch to his gut, hearing Steve’s voice; the melancholy in it and the burden he was never supposed to carry only making it worse.

For a second, Bucky wavered, faltering in his steps. His friend – former friend, still, his best friend – was right behind that door, needing someone and hurting and what was Bucky doing? Running away, like a coward?

“Are you alright?” the punk continued, expression concern for the not-exactly-older man and that was it. He caught a scent of something fishy right away.

Bucky’s mind yelled at him to get the hell out. His gaze returned to the door leading to a chamber and bathroom, hoping to find a small window. He crossed the distance in long quick steps.

“Yes, Steven, thank you. I simply have another troubled soul in the back room...”

Bucky slipped through the other door, finding what he wished for – an escape route. As he opened the window, taking care not to make the tiniest sound, Steve’s voice was slowly fading away.

“Don’t let me disturb you then, Father.”

By the time Father Lantom returned to the chamber, James Buchannan Barnes was gone. The priest only sighed in resignation; he more than half-expected it would come to that. He only hoped that the troubled soldier would find his way back eventually.

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Part 15

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So… am I? Forgiven? Please? I prooooomise the Steve/reader reunion will take place in the next chapter and it might actually be worth the wait ;)

Thank you for reading!

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alolowrites · 4 years

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Sleepless Nights

Summary: Bakugou can’t sleep ever since the brutal breakup and decides to do something about it.

Author’s Note: Here is the second story for @bnhabookclub’s Hero Camp Bingo event. The prompt I used was Betrayal. It’s been a while since I wrote a Bakugou story, so of course he became my latest victim for an angst story (lmao). Don’t worry, it does end on a good note!

As always, please enjoy!

Word Count: 2.1K+

Bakugou is restless.

Crimson eyes glare at the dark ceiling and his left arm unconsciously reaches over to hold you closer to him—splat.

A cold bedside greets his rough hand, the silky sheets bunching up in his deadly grasp. Luckily the linens are not alive, or else they would be begging for mercy. Nitroglycerin secretes on his palms without fail, seeping through the thin fabric; it will turn into an unrecognizable, ashy pile if he ignites the sweat beads. Bakugou hesitates because these sheets are your favorite.

He jostles the gray covers off his body with a vicious growl. Bakugou forgot you aren’t sleeping with him anymore after what happened three weeks ago. Grudgingly sitting up, he slams his back against the headboard. Bakugou shoves his face into his rough hands and grits his teeth as he remembers that unfortunate night—damn his stupid mouth.

Bakugou breathes through his nose and reaches to turn on his lamp. The dim yellow light partially illuminates his face, but fails to brighten the darkness swirling inside his heart. He’s broken and wallowing in his despair. Both fists curl until his nails dangerously dig into his skin, a small trickle of blood oozing out that makes him curse, “Fucking hell.”

His bed groans as Bakugou gets off and trudges out the bedroom to find the first-aid kit. He annoyingly rummages through the bathroom’s cabinets, your face mask packets spilling out on the floor. The woman’s perky fake smile irritates him to no end, his right eye twitching nonstop. Bakugou aggressively shoves them back inside as he yells, “What are you so damn happy about, idiot?!”

The cabinet door cracks after he slams it with brute force; a staggered breath escapes his mouth as he grips the sink’s edge, ignoring the sting from the fresh wounds. Bakugou lifts his head until he stares at his heated reflection. Bloodshot irises glare back at him, his ashy blonde hair even more disheveled than usual. A blue kit sticks out like a sore thumb, and Bakugou snatches it; he freezes when he reads the words “Blasty’s First Aid Kit” affectionately written across the cover.

A gut-wrenching punch attacks him without warning. Growling, he shuts the light off and storms to the living room. Bakugou tosses the kit on the coffee table, plopping down on the couch to get this shit over with. He carelessly rips the alcoholic wipe’s package, tasting the bitter flavor now burning his tongue and hissing when he rubs the napkin on his bloody scratch.

Unraveling the gauze, Bakugou realizes something is off. He hears no laughter or snarky comment coming at him. Ironically, the living room feels dead; it’s as if someone came in with a vacuum and sucked out any hint of warmth in this place. The blonde man glances at his palm with a frown. Usually, you’re the one tending to his wounds while scolding at him for his reckless behavior. He pretends to hate it, but deep down, he appreciates how much you love him.

Bakugou wishes he’d done the same for you that night.

“Babe, I’m home!” You kick off your shoes near the front door. A hand massages your neck as you crave for a nice, hot bath to soothe your sore muscles; work has been a pain in the butt lately. Once the keys fall in the bowl, you realize how everything is eerily quiet. There’s no ruckus coming from the kitchen or a delicious smell greeting you by the entrance.

You raise a curious eyebrow and walk down the hallway. Each step grows more burdensome, the floor creaking under your tense weight. Turning the corner, you see your boyfriend sitting on the couch. He’s hunched over as his fingers anxiously twiddle above his knees. Despite looking down, you notice the permanent scowl on his face and become worried, “Katsuki?”

“You’re an hour late,” he grumbles, still not looking up.

“I got held up at the office,” you cautiously approach to the brutish man with a slight frown. The black bag settles on the coffee table, “There was so much paperwork to get done before the deadline. I also needed to help out Shimizu—”

“Can’t that dumbass ask someone else?!” Bakugou barks like a mad dog, his heated eyes glaring straight at you. They catch you off guard, “Aren’t there other extras at your damn agency who can help? Or do you love spending time with him, huh?”

You seethe, “What the hell is your problem, Katsuki? He’s the new sidekick, and my boss assigned me to show him the ropes. Nothing is happening between us, so calm the fuck down!”

“Like I fucking believe that!” Bakugou shoots up from his spot, the ground shaking from his harsh stomps, “Why does he keep calling you after work-hours? Why is he always so close to you while you two are out on patrol?”

“Oh my gosh, this again?!” You exasperatedly throw your hands over your head. “Are we really gonna argue about this shit? Katsuki,” you march closer to him, pinching your nose for a quick second, “For the millionth time: Nothing. Is. Happening. Between. Us! Why don’t you believe me?!”

Bakugou scoffs, and a flash of irritation crosses your face, “What do you want me to do, huh, Katsuki? Do you want me to quit my job—”

“Fuck yeah I do!” He interrupts, making your mouth fall in astonishment. Did your ears hear those words correctly? His mouth starts running on its own, “At least it will give me some peace of mind knowing you’re not screwing around with him behind my back—”

Bakugou freezes when a harsh slap strikes his cheek.

Tears well up in your mortified eyes. It’s unclear whether they are like this because of his offensive words or the fact you laid a hand on him. Either way, you back away from the stunned pro hero. The hand that delivered the blow continues to shake uncontrollably; you bring it closer to your chest. Bakugou finally comes to his senses and blinks his pale eyes at you.

After the shock subsides, you furiously jab a finger at him, screeching, “How dare you accuse me of doing something like that! How dare you accuse me of cheating on you when all I ever did was love you!”

“Wait!” Bakugou stumbles over his feet, and you stagger backward, “Shit, no. I-I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t!” The razor-sharp tone cuts through with as much strength as Kirishima’s hardening quirk. Bakugou stops in his tracks. Your body quivers with tears raining down to your chin, “Don’t apologize…don’t come after me…we’re through.”

The last thing Bakugou hears is the front door loudly slam behind you; he’s sure everyone in Japan heard it. And the first thing he feels after you’re gone is his broken heart wallowing in pure agony.

Bakugou punches the cushion, muffling down a cry trying to escape his lips. He’s living in a nightmare that never ends. The bitter breakup constantly replays in his mind, haunting his thoughts. It reminds him of how pathetic his life is right now. Every morning he notices the tear stains getting larger on his pillowcase, and every night, before going to bed, he feels the emptiness expanding on his right side.

His bed is now just cold, unwelcoming, and unnecessarily giant—he hates it.

Bakugou rushes back to his room, randomly picking a pair of gray sweatpants and putting them on. The lamp’s light barely helps him as he searches for his black sweater; it lounges on his chair, and the hero hurriedly pulls the hoodie over his head. The last thing he grabs is his keys and phone before exiting his apartment. After suffering in this hell hole for three weeks, he’s desperate for an escape.

Fortunately, the weather is tolerable for his late-night journey. However, he would trudge through anything—heavy rain, typhoon-like winds, massive snowbanks—to get to you. In his mind and heart, Bakugou knows he needs to make things right with you. Sure, you two fight and argue, but it never goes too far except for that regrettable night; he crossed a line. You are the best thing in his life, and he foolishly let your relationship slip through his fingers like sand. Bakugou needs you, and for once, he’ll push his bloated pride aside to beg for your forgiveness.

But first, he has the find you. It won’t be an easy feat considering you could be anywhere; he figures you’re staying at a friend’s apartment, and Bakugou accepts the fact it will be a long night. Pulling the dark hood over his head, he shoves his hands inside the pockets and treks down the bare streets to begin his journey.

The first two stops are a complete miss. One friend answers the door with droopy eyes and a roaring yawn—she has no idea where you are. The second friend scratches his wild bed hair; he’s so tired that he accidentally calls Bakugou “Shadow Dude” and shakes his head when asked if you’re staying in his apartment. Bakugou wonders if both your friends lied to him, but he gives them the benefit of the doubt and picks up the pace.

He arrives at the next apartment, praying that you’re here. Third time’s the charm, right?

Climbing the never-ending stairs, he finally reaches the fourth floor. Bakugou’s eyes bounce until they land on the correct apartment number. With a deep sigh, he knocks on the door a couple of times, hoping it’s loud enough to wake up your friend; the hero stops after no one answers him. His forehead softly hits on the door, a muffled thud echoing around him. Just as Bakugou turns around, the door creaks, and a faint voice stops him in his tracks, “K-Katsuki?”

Wobbling by the door with confused eyes is you; Bakugou’s breath hitches as his stance falters. He wonders if you’re just a figment of his imagination that will disappear in a blink of an eye. When you don’t, he slowly steps forward as if he’s walking on thin ice, putting the hood down. Your vision finally adjusts to the dim light shining in the hallway, and Bakugou whispers, “Hey…”

“What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep…”

“That makes two of us,” you mumble and lean against the doorframe. Despite this, your cold glare forces the hero to stay in place, “I’m still upset with you.”

“I know,” Bakugou lowers his head in shame. You glance at his bandaged hands, and your scowl softens at his lousy attempt to fix the wounds. Did he injure himself again? Bakugou rakes one hand through his messy hair, “What I said to you wasn’t right; I know you would never betray my trust, but I let my stupid jealousy cloud my damn thoughts. I’m a fucking idiot with a big ass mouth.”

You swallow a small gulp, “Yeah, you are.”

Bakugou tests the water by taking another step. This time you don’t say anything to stop him, and he takes it as a sign to get closer. Unconsciously, you cross your arms over your chest and gaze at your purple slippers shuffling on the cold tile floor. Your heart pounds like a jackhammer as the electricity buzzes impatiently in the thick air.

A dark shadow looms over your personal space. You hesitate to raise your head, but Bakugou’s warmth radiating off his body convinces you otherwise; he leaves only a slight gap between you two. Now that Bakugou is close, you notice the deep anguish whirling through his eyes; it’s like staring at your own reflection—a shudder runs down your spine.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, shutting his eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry for hurting you so much with my ignorant ass. You mean so much to me that I can’t take another second sleeping in that bed alone. I fucking miss you…”

Bakugou’s hands slide up your jittery arms, reawakening the spark that almost died inside you. He pleads like a desperate man, “Please give me a second chance…I love you too much to have you out of my life.”

Two arms instantly circle his neck, clinging onto him like no tomorrow. Your quiet sniffles reach his right ear, and Bakugou hugs you tighter in his warm embrace. Ghostly kisses pepper down your face until he captures your lips and pours his entire heart and soul into you. Delicate fingers run through his ashy hair and give it a soft tug as you smile against his lips, “I hate how much I love you, Blasty.”

A chuckle rumbles through his chest.

“Now c’mon,” you pull him inside the apartment, guiding the hero to your room, “We both need to catch up on our beauty sleep.”

Bakugou agrees with a soft grunt.

Climbing into bed together, you two finally fall soundly asleep in each other’s arms for the first time since the breakup.

And that’s the second prompt crossed off from this bingo card! Which once will be next? Stay tune!

Previous Prompt: Adopt a Pet

Thanks for reading!!

Hero Camp Bingo Masterlist

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #bnhabookclub #bnha x reader #hero camp bingo #betrayal #angst

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okay-victoria · 3 years

Text

Love of My Second Life: Tanya & Romance

This is both my take on why, despite seeming like the easiest and healthiest relationship to write, TanyaxVisha is up there with TanyaxMary in difficulty level for pulling off successfully, what I’ve seen go wrong in fanfic so far, and what needs to make it/any romance go right.

Where to start, where to start...um, a warning, for obvious reasons I’m going to have to talk about sex.

The Age Difference

This has the joy of being a bit creepy on both ends of the spectrum! Yay.

Visha Being Creepy

Visha is probably 5 - 6 years older than Tanya. While as more mature adults that age difference is relatively negligible, Tanya being 17/18 and Visha being in her early 20s doesn’t make it suddenly a non-issue. If you and a coworker, both in your first job out of college, went to happy hour and you met his/her significant other and they were a senior in high school, would you feel good about that?

The age-of-consent laws in bygone eras may help your case for why in-story characters give a pass to such things, but it doesn’t really help explain it to your readers. Unless I’m missing something, no one is reading this story from 1920s/30s Germany, and so it needs to have the relationship explained in a way that tries to work for modern standards. Additionally, I think people tend to mix up age-of-consent with “people found this generally appropriate”. A 19 year old dating a 59 year old violates no laws in the United States, but that doesn’t mean that most people are going to consider it a loving and healthy relationship without any proof. Even your in-story characters are probably going to have some thoughts.

The final issue, from Visha’s end of the spectrum, is that even when Tanya is aged up to 18+ and has gained some secondary sexual characteristics, she is sometimes still presented as being an “eternal loli” who can be easily be mistaken for someone around 14/15, an age at which girls normally have some secondary sex characteristics, but distinctly immature ones. I imagine this problem stems from two places:

1) Scenes when Tanya’s lolidom is brought up are not the same scenes as the romantic ones, so the problem is not as obvious to the author and

2) Author forgets that “short+small boobs+doesn’t have wrinkles yet” does not actually result in people looking like they are mid-puberty. Without being really creepy, as women age, their breast tissue drops down and to the side, waist/hip/leg ratios change, and the face loses its baby fat, among other things. Writing that references Tanya as looking like a teen comes along with the unfortunate implication that she actually looks like she is still mid-puberty, and Visha...is into that, instead of being someone who is attracted to petite POST pubescent women.

These are all extremely fixable problems. Really, all an author has to do is make Visha acknowledge that it’s weird, and probably try to talk to Tanya about her reservations before she starts trying to seduce her. It’s the handwave that is the issue. For the last/puberty problem, unless there is some reason I probably don’t want to know about that the author only wants to write the relationship if Tanya looks 14, simply describe her as a petite but adult woman, and if you need to use her looking young as a plot point, have her make an effort to adapt her adult characteristics to suit or hope that nobody looks hard enough to tell the difference.

Tanya Being Creepy

While Tanya is physically the junior member of the relationship, mentally, she is the senior, and by a lot. Tanya knows this. While I don’t necessarily think Salaryman is the Earth’s most morally-pure man, I have a high enough opinion of him to think that he was not pursuing college girls when he was like 35. Tanya should also have a moment of thought over this, or the relationship needs to wait until Visha is closer to her late 20s, when she is approaching a similar level of life maturity that Salaryman would have felt was close to his own.

Even if you think that Salaryman’s logical side would have been eroded by his “but I’m a guy, I can’t help it, college girls are hot” side [I’m side-eyeing you], I think it’s very unlikely that living as Tanya, and being on the receiving end of that kind of stuff, wouldn’t make her reconsider her stance on it, at least a little.

I know, I know, Visha’s been to war! She’s not the same as some random college girl in 2020! While this is allowable as a partial justification, because it is true, it ignores a whole lot.

First off, maturity is not a straightforward drive. All parts of you do not mentally mature at the same time. If you want to write early 20s Visha as a mature-enough partner for Tanya, a bit of time needs to be spent on what Visha loses because of it - she never has, and never will, get to be that happy-go-lucky girl. While making fun of young women for being dramatic gossips, obsessing about non-serious things, etc remains a popular sport, thinking that you are doing Visha a favor by taking that time of her life away from her says pretty terrible things about how society values women’s relationships with each other. If you don’t mean for your fanfic to accidentally imply that, it’s something that needs some love & care.

Alternatively, you could write a story in which Visha, while being a competent adult, still gets space to explore her “girly” side. If doing so, you are going to have to make a really strong case for why Tanya is willing to put up with this, as Salaryman does not come off as someone who would judge it a good use of time & effort to be constantly letting his girlfriend rattle off about things he thinks are silly and immature - there’s a lot of other fish in the sea, why not find one that is a competent adult *and* isn’t often talking about things you don’t care about.

The Canonical Setup of Visha & Tanya’s relationship

Opposite Goals

In a nutshell, Tanya is presented as a person that wants to live a safe, boring, and non-notable life, is doing her best to get there, and is constantly failing and being stressed about it because she needs to figure out a new plan. Visha is presented as someone who has major qualms about Tanya as a human being, but has a nigh-worshipful respect for her heroic officer side.

This is a massive, and I mean MASSIVE problem. You absolutely cannot ignore that what makes the characters happy is diametrically opposed to each other. Can you overcome it? Yes, by slowly developing the characters towards a compromise, but you can’t just not acknowledge it and expect me to think this relationship has any hope of leaving both partners happy. Either Tanya never escapes her never-ending stress cycle, or she does, and the entire basis of Visha’s attachment to Tanya disappears.

This can be fixed by: 1) Tanya coming to terms with a new side of herself, one that wants to be that hero. This cannot just be a one-paragraph epiphany. Tanya is shown to hate when she thinks her internal self is being changed by her new experiences and she needs a lot of work to get to a point where she is willing to acknowledge this in herself.

2) Visha has to go through a rocky part where she second-guesses herself - she thought she wanted Tanya, but turns out, Tanya isn’t the person she thought she is? How and why does she decide that she likes the person Tanya has become? This is probably the easier route, but I think runs the risk of having an author have Visha *say* Tanya does all these other good things for her, but never really show it happening.

3) The happiest medium is probably one where Visha *mostly* adapts towards Tanya, so Tanya gets to live a quiet but not too quiet life, and Visha learns to love another side. As Visha is compromising more in this sense, a healthy relationship is going to include Tanya realizing what is happening and deciding to make an effort to appeal to Visha and not just be like “Take me as I am. Or don’t.” and Visha unilaterally decides to accept that.

Why Does Tanya want to be in a relationship with Visha?

Tanya betrays no actual emotional attachment to Visha in the light novels. While you can read in rationalization to the reasons Tanya gives to her actions, she herself does not believe that it is because of an emotional connection.

Canonically, Tanya is portrayed as liking Visha because of how well Visha passes the “usefulness” test. This brings up another MASSIVE problem - does Tanya, in any way, shape, or form, actually like Visha as an individual, or just her ability to conform to the role Tanya wants her to play?

Look, I don’t need Tanya to be in LOVE with Visha in the way we usually talk about people being in love to believe that Tanya can be in a relationship successfully. I’m fully on board with a portrayal in which Tanya can’t quite summon that level of emotion. However, she needs to like and respect Visha as an individual person, and summon a level of emotion beyond friend with benefits.

IMO, it is really hard to do that without showing Tanya and Visha disagreeing on a major piece of Tanya’s philosophy and Tanya actually listening and responding positively to it, not simply agreeing to disagree because it isn’t worth upsetting her useful sidekick, or whatever. There needs to be character development of both characters - Visha finding it in herself to be comfortable rocking the boat, and Tanya having a compelling enough reason to change something that she has clung to for two lives.

Everyone wants to be a lesbian

While I get it, the Empire is not the exact same as Germany, and yes, I know that Weimar Germany was relatively sexually progressive, it’s really not something that a well-written romance should handwave.

“Weimar Culture” in many ways developed as a result of how WW1 went for Germany. If you have a story where WW1 doesn’t go that way for Germany, gay culture is unlikely to flourish to the same degree.

All that aside, Tanya isn’t someone that is going to easily shrug her shoulders and say “you know, sometimes you need to jeopardize your career for the sake of hot sex/love”. She’s pretty clear on which she prioritizes. A lesbian relationship is not going to help her here, and she’s going to be aware of it. She needs to struggle with that choice.

Visha not struggling to accept herself as a lesbian is also somewhat of an oversight. It’s pretty unlikely that a woman born in her time period would come to terms with that easily. Visha is also never shown being attracted to other women besides Tanya, which carries a weird “I’m only a lesbian for you” vibe that is like a gross parallel of a straight guy wanting a lesbian to be so attracted to him she can’t help it, she wants the D.

And now, we enter the realm of Tanya’s relationship with her identity and sexuality.

Tanya is shown to have mental qualms both about entering a straight or lesbian relationship in her new life. The reasons behind those qualms are not explored at all in the LN, but they should be in a story in which Tanya goes into a relationship.

No matter which path puberty takes her down, there is the issue of Tanya being comfortable having sex as a woman. Even if it is with another woman, it is not going to be particular similar to the way she had sex with women as a man. That type of thing is pretty tied up with our identity. Tanya hates having her internal, I haven’t changed identity threatened, and not being able to give sexual pleasure/needing to receive it differently is the type of thing that is probably going to come along with some emotional reservations on her part.

Again, sexual identity being a part of our overall identity, while Tanya may remain attracted to women, that means her identity is now as a gay person, not a straight person. Given her biases from both growing up in Japan and the state of gay rights in her new life, it would seem atypical that she would consider this a non-issue and it wouldn’t make her question her priorities or the type of person she thought she was.

But...The Sex?

Look, I get it, sometimes you wanna see certain characters bang. We’ve all been there.

While yes, I recognize that many humans make terrible decisions solely in pursuit of sex, and so it’s perfectly realistic to have Tanya and Visha do the same and say that’s why you’re handwaving everything else, it is an extremely lazy storytelling technique, especially since neither character seems likely to go to extremes for it.

Because people focus so much on sex appeal, unfortunately, they use it as a substitute for making a good case for the relationship. Visha/Tanya is so attracted to Tanya/Visha, that now they are willing to undergo character development, because the pulsing loins urge them to. Really?

Do at least some of it first, lay the groundwork for romantic attraction before you slam them with physical attraction. While it often works the opposite direction in real life, that undercuts the romantic side in fictional story-telling.

I also think that because of the focus on their attraction to each other, what ends up missing in all TanyaxVisha fanfics I’ve seen so far is the tension. That makes it boring, I don’t care about it, and the entire reason I don’t care about it is because the choice to handwave the inconvenient facts means there is nothing in the way besides Tanya being a dumbass, which you can only do for so long without it becoming boring.

They are both attracted to each other, and admit it to themselves. Neither sees any real problem with the relationship other than not knowing if the other person likes them, but they aren’t even hung up on it and mostly work on straightforwardly winning the other person.

When in doubt, blame it on The Patriarchy

As far as we know, Tanya isn’t pining for relationship, and never thinks about a romantic relationship from her old life. Combined with other things Tanya says, it is hard to imagine Salaryman ever had a “considering marriage” relationship - more like, he may have felt partnership had some desirable aspects, but probably never was able to compromise on his kind of extreme worldview enough to try to make it work with someone, just figuring he’d find “the one” one day that wasn’t going to make him compromise.

While of course, you should not need to change everything about who you are for a romantic partner to like you, saying “you should like me for me” and then putting in exactly zero effort to do things because you know they are important to your partner, even if they aren’t for you, is not one of the keys to a successful relationship.

While it is not a problem inherent to Tanya & Visha’s relationship like the above sections, it is a problem in all forms of how I’ve seen the relationship written. It fails to answer a fundamental question: WHAT CHANGED?

Why did Tanya want love/a relationship/a wife in this life, and not in her last? If she did want it in her last life, why did she successfully find love/a relationship/a wife in this life, and not in her last?

Unfortunately, skipping the answer to this question implies that nothing changed. The success is then entirely reliant and Visha, and that brings along with it a really ugly answer.

Visha’s professional I’ll-do-anything-for-you is equated to a personal I’ll-do-anything-for-you, and she very much accepts Tanya for who she is, through all the flaws that are definitely there and that presumably no woman in Salaryman’s life was willing to put up with. Tanya doesn’t have to undergo any character development to be capable of making the relationship work.

This has some really, really unfortunate undertones. It is the very reason why even legal-but-large age difference relationships often aren’t healthy, because the older partner, instead of trying to be someone capable of contributing to the life of someone their own age, decides it’s easier to find someone younger who doesn’t know better and is more willing to put up with their bullshit. That, then, turns into a creepy grooming undertone - you make the less experienced partner think this is normal.

It really isn’t normal or good that Visha should have to put up with a relationship in which she never discovers who she wants to be because she’s so caught up Tanya’s idea of how to live your life. That is borderline emotional abuse, I am sure no one intends it to be there, but without giving some serious treatment to character development, unfortunately, it is.

To me, this has some of the worst overtones of the worst types of male fantasy - My Manic Pixie Dream Girl is completely devoted to me, and instead of emotionally adding to her life and/or our relationship, she is completely fine with me substituting being a Strong Heroic Man who occasionally buys her Nice Things. She demands I change nothing of myself and completely agrees with my Logical Man worldview, no matter what she needs to change about herself to get there. She’s hot, and I get to simultaneously be a straight man and have hot lesbian sex. Even better, because she’s a “strong” woman who is capable in her own right, not only am I physically satisfied, but I get the ego boost of “earning” the submission and subordination of a woman who is better than most people, because she knows I’m better than her.

Honestly, the more I think about it, the grosser it gets, so as far as fanfic goes I just try to ignore it and understand that the authors intention wasn’t to bring along all this baggage. However, to truly write a good Tanya x Visha story that gets away from all these unfortunate implications is a big undertaking, and it’s really impossible for it to make for a compelling side-plot that doesn’t get much screentime.

I’m generally fine with handwaving issues for sideplots, but if Tanya is making decisions because of her relationship with Visha that are now affecting the main plot, it really isn’t something that *should* be handwaved.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

#OpEd

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bluephoenixdruidicprincess · 3 years

Note

What is your favorite fictional characters’ MBTI profile?

Oh my! Now this is quite the question! And it requires such deep thought and extensive typing that I felt I really must answer this via my laptop and not on mobile.

First of all, I must applaud your use of the apostrophe on “characters” because while knowingly or not, you have given me the freedom to include multiple characters in this which I am eternally grateful for. There’s no way I would’ve been able to whittle this down to just one character. In fact, when I fist read the ask, I missed the apostrophe and I broke down into this anxious cold sweat from having to try and figure out what character out there would I consider my favorite. A difficult task on its own but then I’m also plagued by thoughts of people judging me for what I might consider my favorite character and a plethora of other anxieties related to that. So thanks for the use of the apostrophe.

And just to clarify, I’m assuming by MBTI profile, you are referring to the Myers&Brigg personality profiles. If I got what you meant wrong, please forgive me.

1) Gohan from DBZ -- this was the first character that popped into my head and I think he is probably the closest to what I would view as my favorite character. My favorite characters are always changing because I’m always reading or watching new stories so it stands to reason that as I immerse myself in more stories, the list will change to add in new characters. But Gohan has always been a character that has stuck with me since I was a teenager watching DBZ for the first time on Toonami. And looking at the different personality profiles, I think I would probably classify Gohan as INFP-The Mediator. And for everyone’s information, INFP is also what I have been classified as but I promise I’m trying to be unbiased here. But it does stand to reason that we are drawn sometimes to characters that remind us of ourselves so this could be partially why I adore Gohan the way I do. I recognize a lot of his traits in me. But I would call Gohan an INFP Mediator because generally speaking, he is an introspective creative being that does live inside his own head. He does think about things clearly, not always logically though. But he does look at situations clearly, he can get emotional over things but his emotion is what allows him to always think about what he needs to do to help others. And that’s my basic reasoning for why I would classify Gohan as INFP. He has a desire to help others and mediate with a clear head but emotion also plays a part in it which subsequently also does not make him the most logical.

2) Caroline Forbes from TVD -- Caroline’s a tricky one. Honestly, I think she’s probably a mix of two -- ISFJ and INFJ. Both of these have kind of similar attributes. She’s ISFJ because she’s very warm and unassuming and steadfast and also very practical. She also has attributes of INFJ because she does also have a very strong moral code that drives her.

3) Joxer The Mighty from Xena -- I thought he would be a fun one to do. He is definitely ISTP. He is all about pursuing his goals with a very individualistic mindset. He doesn’t need other people to tell him if he can or can’t do something, he’s going to do it for himself and approach it in his own way. As a warlord’s son, he wanted to become a warlord, make his way in that kind of life and even though he was terrible at it, he doesn’t have the heart for it he was still going to put his all into it until Xena and Gabrielle changed his mind about what he wanted. And from there, he decided he wanted to be a hero so he went out to seek that. He decided he was in love with Gabrielle and decided he would pursue her. He stead-fastedly makes these decisions and he doesn’t need anyone else’s reassurances or permission to do it, he just does.

4) Castiel from SPN -- He’s going to be tricky for sure as he’s not human generally speaking and so lacks a lot of what we would consider human traits and as he spends more time with humans he kinds of gets more of them as he’s exposed. But if I were to hazard a guess as to what the foundation of his personality is, I’d probably have to say INTP if only for just being someone who really does focus more on ideas and concepts as opposed to facts. He’s a logical thinker but even if facts are stacked against him, it’s not going to dissuade him from what he feels needs to be done which doesn’t always make him the most logical or rational.

5) Natasha Romanoff from the MCU -- Yes, she is my favorite avenger. And she is an ISTJ for sure. Very logical, very methodical, and looks at everything rationally and makes her decisions from that stance.

#gohan #caroline forbes #joxer #joxer the mighty #castiel #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #black widow

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st4rs1lver · 4 years

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my fault, not yours. || bakugou katsuki

pairing : bakugou katsuki x f!werewolf!eventual villain!reader

genre : angst

words : about 1.3k.

tw : i tried to refrain from bad language as much as possible because i had to type this up on a school computer, so it might be slightly ooc. also hints of a dark past, suicide, supernatural being(s)?

please don't read if you're uncomfortable with anything listed above. other than that, i hope uou enjoy :)

their story began like this.

bakugou katsuki is one of, if not the most, noticeable students of ua's class 1-a. known for his explosive quirk and personality to match, it is no surprise that he has thrown some harsh words around that has hurt his peers.

(l/n) (y/n) was one of them.

as harsh as it may sound, she's considered fairly average for being in the top class of first years. (h/c) hair, (e/c) eyes, and a fit physique as is required of hero school students. her quirk, sound manipuation... a little overpowered in use. this was one of the reasons why bakugou picked on her. how heavily she relies on her quirk, how she tires easily during sparring. heck, even her chest size - everything was under the boy's scrutiny.

he's smart, sure. but there's a lot of things he didn't know.

he didn't know how she used over half of her energy, trying to contain her immense power to avoid injuring eveyrone around her. he didn't know what she was, who she was and he picked on her nonetheless. he didn't know what happened to her in the past, what her parents did to her. but above all, he didn't know that she loved him.

if he had, then perhaps all of this would have been prevented.

i'm so sorry.

a car swung through the air, nearly crashing into deku. seeing this, shouto quickly froze the vehicle seconds before it found its target. the green-haired pro-hero thanked his heterochromatic counterpart, the latter responding with a nod.

"we need to get this sorted out. siren is getting stronger by the minute, we have no time to lose."

"exactly, you idiots! get the pedestrians! i'm going after her!

"wait, but how do you know that siren's a female--"

before deku could finish his question, the male was already off with a bang - literally.

soaring overhead, ground zero could see above the cloud of smoke, making out the telltale rings of destruction and familar red waves radiating from a crater in the concrete below.

red, huh?

ceasing his explosions once he got close enough, bakugou sailed in through the gray clouds of debris and landed right behind the female figure in the center. he stood up, dusted his hands off, and stood still. everything was silent around them.

through the shadows, bakugou could see the furry ears on top of the female's head twitch. without turning around, she muttered a single word. no, name.

"katsuki."

with this one sound, the deceptive peace shattered around them, and immediately the two clashed in an explosion of red.

they were evenly matched; each blow would be countered with another from the opposing party. so the fight continued, as the world around them fell away, each person caught in their own chaos, fighting their own battle. the dark night skies glittered with bloodlust, flavored with smog, seasoned with uplifted earth. it was a dangerous kind of beauty. nostalgia.

regret.

she could remember those days, when she would be quietly pining after hiom, admiring his strength, ambition, looks. the days when, even if he were cruel to her, she would still remain by his side and love him through his scars. she remembered that day, when she had been planning to leave ua, but got caught by bakugou. terrified of the possibility of having her plans be revealed to the population of the school, she had shut him up with a kiss, and fled.

he remembered those days when he would not notice her except to shove her out of the way, intent on reaching his goal. but now that he did, he felt empty. as if something was missing. he had thrown away the one that thing he had been wanting all along. she had become so scarred that she could not love him anymore.

oh, how the tables have turned.

with another nitroglycerin explosion, bakugou managed to blast the villain onto the rooftop of the tallest building in the city. once he had also made his way onto the skycraper, he sized her up, feeling her do so to him as well. both were covered in cuts and bruises, clothes matted with blood and grime. neither budged from their spot, neither in a defensive stance. they were simply standing still, relaxed as if trusting that the other would not harm them. the irony was enough to make one laugh, if only this weren't such an unbefitting situation.

"katsuki."

"don't call me that."

he immediately snapped back, just like the old days.

like the old days.

siren chuckled. the hero could hear the melancholy fatigue in her voice. her laugh, once bright and happy, now dulled to a blank slate. and yet, her voice remained as beautiful as ever.

“bakugou.”

he kept his silence. taking this as a sign to continue, the girl sighed and took off her mask.

"it's been a while."

"so it has."

(l/n) smiled - it was a small, genuine smile, but it was weary.

"i'll get to the point, i suppose. i know that you know that i loved you."

this sentence took his breath away.

i didn't then... but i do now.

"i know you probably hate me."

shut up. i don't.

"so... i wanted to apologize."

"idiot, what are you apologizing for?!"

her smile dropped. "for loving you. for caring when you didn't want me to. for what i'm about to do - what i've wanted to do for years now, frankly. you told midoriya to take a swan dive off the roof... and while i'm not midoriya, i think you want me to fulfill that request just as badly--"

"i don't hate you! i never did, and i still don't."

the smile was back. "i'm glad."

"so don't do this!"

she shook her head. "katsuki..." she took a deep breath. "katsuki... i love you. and i know that it took a long time for you to come around and all but... trust me, if i could, i would come back. i would pretend like nothing happened and be myself again. i would come back... to be with you. but... things have changed. and maybe-- maybe if society were willing, i could prove how much i want that - to be normal - but it's not possible now, is it? once a villain, always a villain. the same couldn't be said for a wannabe hero, especially after all i've done. all that's happened to me and made me... do things i regret. i've done to much. i never really wanted this... i regret it all."

he swallowed, and seeing that he was going to interrupt, she shook her head and silenced him again.

"i don't want you to regret anything like i do. i know that you're going to say that my parents did this and i'm not at fault, but in all reality, i was the one who chose to solve my problems in this terrible way and i couldn't find someone to give me the help that i needed. above all, please never blame yourself for this. you wanted to be a hero, not to have a relationship with some girl with issues. and i respect that. there are much better people out there that are stronger than me, more beautiful and aren't burdened by things that could easily make them go insane and lash out... like me. because i don't want you to be in danger because of me. hurting you genuinely is the last thing i would ever wish to do. love someone that isn't a monster, like me. please. love someone... that isn't me."

"but i only want you! you can make it right again! it'll be okay! if you let them know, if you told them what happened... if you believed in yourself like i believe in you..." he sobbed.

"please, katsuki. if not for yourself... than for me."

the werewolf female watched as he crumbled, her heart aching with his. he could form no coherent words as he cried into his calloused palms.

the great ground zero, at the peak of his career with a right future, was slowly breaking down for a lowly, hybrid, villain.

"hey, katsuki." her calm voice was quiet, commanding almost. he felt compelled to look. sniffing, he raised his head.

with some difficulty, (y/n) mustered her brightest, happiest smile, reminding him of when she was still an innocent classmate of his. then, he remembered the day that she ran away, eventually proclaimed allegedly dead. that day, she had given him this same smile. he had to keep this secret for years, the knowledge of her departure tormenting him, knowing it was partially his fault that he didn't prevent her from leaving. and today, she gave him this beautiful, terrible smile once more.

he clambered to his feet, horror painting his face and his heart.

"i'm sorry."

"no, no, no, no--"

he was too late, she was already gone.

bakugou katsuki, one of if not the most, powerful of heroes. he's known for his easily distinguishable quirk, with a personality and looks to match.

(l/n) (y/n), a misfortunate soul, losing her life to the light of her life.

their story ended like this.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #angst #x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #mha x reader #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #please don't come for me guys :((#reader insert #x reader oneshot #x reader fanfiction

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thejudgingtrash · 4 years

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My unpopular opinion: Chiron is a horrible teacher, protector, whatever. He’s as bad dumbledor. He often manipulates children and put them in danger? Also is RR really trying to tell me not one single demigod from before percy’s generation made it to adulthood? Not even demigods of minor gods? If not then why haven’t we heard from them, why weren’t they called to fight in the war so that literal children didn’t have to? I have more but I’m not brave enough to post them lol

Fuck, I gotta check my asks more often. Too much stuff laying around and oh please people! Send your stuff in! Don’t be shy! It’s so interesting to see what’s on your mind! Let’s have that conversation and ask me!! :D I mean a bunch of people agreed and disagreed with my stances (Part 1/Part 2), let’s see how I feel about yours!

Anyway HERE WE GO BOYS! LET’S GO LESBIANS LET’S GO!

LET’S HAVE THAT WHOLE DAMN ESSAY!

Chiron is clearly a self insert from Riordan. I mean come on…

That’s a solid Chiron if I see one. Which is pretty ironic as Chiron’s the shitty teacher who we all know and love. Got something to admit, Riordan? You as a former teacher? HMM?

Hiding incompetence under the disguise of the gentle old wise teacher is definitely something that Dumbledore and Chiron share. Chiron is the old centaur who lived for aeons and helped out the most famous heroes of their times, so shouldn’t modern times be considered to be an easier job for him? He’s barely present, highkey vague and has absolutely no problems with tossing children literally out into the open across the entire fucking US and A to clean the gods’ bathroom messes.

Had the heroes been in their 20s like in the original myths (or even older) it would’ve made more sense to let them find their own ways. It would be rude, but somewhat okay. You could expect adults to find the way and connect the dots. But this is just messing with a bunch of 12 year olds because you can at this point.

Chiron is that supposed sweet teacher that just fucks up. We all had one, you know the one. Seems gentle and nice and but has clearly chosen the wrong job. Don’t know if that’s the trauma of living that long and/or seeing kids dying constantly that’s hitting him in the back of the head.

I have the feeling that people are projecting their teacher fantasies on to him just like step-father fantasies that include Paul. Because we want a guide who is trustworthy, we want an authoritative figure that we can share our concerns with and who guides us to solid solutions without betraying our trust.

But like I said, he’s essentially sending out kids to deathly missions and encouraging deep traumas. Yes, we can partially blame Chiron, but most of the blame goes to the gods who enable and encourage this weird dynamic. Would all of them straight up cut the bullshit and mostly resolve their own issues without using their children as pawns, it would’ve been easier for everyone involved. Additionally, there are many kids in camp to keep busy, look after and care for. I don’t know how many there were pre-TLO but I’d assume the number was in the hundreds? Of course, in larger cabins are camp counsellors that help out and guide next to camp schedules. But since Percy’s the only kid in the Poseidon cabin I guess that thought went south? Percy being the special kid would actually mean that there should be a focus on him unless you’re going for the “I’m neutral” spiel. Chiron knew from day one that Percy was walking Poseidon seed, come on.

Also like I somewhat implied, seeing people die left and right might have impacted Chiron to make him feel indifferent/despressed (could also be a stretch, who knows). Which isn’t an excuse, but might explain some takes. Explaining the same stuff for millennia in its essentials is probably getting tiring.

I think this is the third time that I mentioned it on my blog but showing and telling are the most powerful story telling concepts/fundamentals and you see Rowling and Riordan constantly failing at that which is concerning. Instead of Chiron (or Dumbledore) just simply getting down to the point and telling and explaining stuff briefly, he only eludes, vaguely formulates and it is simply confusing especially for a child in a brand new environment who just lost his mother (if we’re speaking about TLT). This does nothing but add more stress in such a fragile situation especially when a new and bigger threat makes its way.

There’s also the discussion on how much of Greek myth Percy actually gets. He has the basic/ obvious knowledge which many tend to forget. He doesn’t come in with no knowledge. He had Latin classes back at the academy, he studies with Annabeth, he knows some of the monsters. What he simply doesn’t know, is the magic of it all. That is the most confusing part for him.

The actual magic is not explained, which it doesn’t have to be in all of its entirety, but needs to be addressed somehow and gradually.

Percy asking a simple question like how the camp stays sunny and covered 24/7 and how the wardens work and Chiron casually sitting here like you a stoopid one

doesn’t help.

What many people forget: Magic doesn’t erase logic. Even in a magical setting, unless clearly stated, there has to be some kind of logic to connect the dots. It doesn’t need to be a clear cut A to B, but it should be comprehensible for both the readers and the characters in a particular situation. And that’s just not happening for Percy as the character. This also sets up the premise of Percy being ”stupid” which he isn’t. He is surrounded by incompetent teachers and staff that don’t bother telling him how things work and assume that he’ll just manage.

Yeah. Both Dumbledore and Chiron are awfulness in a sweet calm disguise.

Onto part two of the ask. I have had so many talks with people on that exact problem. It simply boils down to one issue:

Rick Riordan‘s inconsistency in world building and setting. The story telling doesn’t make any sense.

So kids are dying like flies before 18 but many are also super famous and in powerful positions? Many are historical figures that made it well over 18? Make that make sense. Also was WW2 supposed to be kicked off by some 12 year olds with that logic? The biggest man made catastrophe of the modern era boiled down to a bunch of fighting kids? No. We all know it. Just simply no. I actually don’t mind the WW2 background but Riordan should’ve given it another thought and be a bit more sensitive…? Like the whole fascist gang being team Hades? Uhh… sure…. nope.

Also the same logic applies to Civil War? You’re telling me a bunch of kids were supposed to have started this stance? Who was for and who was against slavery then? What in the actual fuck? Using children as child soldiers to stand in for these large complex historical issues that stretch over years and show many of humanity’s horrifying sides is just….eh.

No. This whole thing about campers dying as soon as they reach the magic number of 18 are either bedtime stories to scare the kids or toughen them up orrrr my guess, Riordan actually managed yet again to fuck up his own lore.

It’s the same logic with New Rome. You have a whole city full of adults but have a few kids run that bitch? You did your ten years of service as a child soldier and then do one of these?

As if adults magically exit this world. Like is that the reason why Percy’s been 17 for a whole damn decade? Because otherwise he gotta hand riptide in and all of the boys scout medals he has collected so far? Adults would’ve had the experience and expertise to win those fights but it would break the magic and charm of the books that a bunch of kids are saving the world for the younger demographic. Let’s do not forget that the targeted audience of the books are middle schoolers. Makes somewhat sense with PJO but with HOO Riordan really shot himself in the leg. He should’ve matured the OG characters at least.

(Also speaking about the actual myths again. A good chunk of them died in their 20s/30s/40s. Odysseus guided as an old man. The heroes weren’t twelve and dipping by the age of 16. The Trojan war went on for 10 years for example. So whereas the real Perseus lived a longer life and had a somewhat happy ending in comparison to his peers, he wasn’t the only one that made it into adulthood.)

Riordan mixing up his own lore is just a shame. Yes, it’s human and he already gets a lot of flag for other stuff. I also get it as a writer with my fanfic where I really have to scroll up to search tiny details that I’ve embedded and not noted down. Perhaps it’s my inner capitalist speaking, but for I’m way more forgiving towards a free product, a gift like a fanfic, rather than something I’ve paid actual money for when it comes to this. The process of publishing a book is large. You mean to tell me that there was no editor at Disney that bothered to fact check? Riordan got a check from us all and doesn’t even bother looking up his own stuff. A little bit more effort, Ricardo. Please. You have an entire damn wiki you could use to check for free if you’re too lazy to read your own books/don’t use authors softwares. Like what?

It’s stupid. You know it, I know it. And as you can see, I fully agree with you.

#ask #ask me anons #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #chiron #chb #rr crit #rick riordan #hoo #heroes of olympus #my rants #camp half-blood #dumbledore #pjo hot takes

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spacehologramcollection · 5 years

Text

Request; Kombat Krew and embarrassing dating stories.

I cannot remember who requested this for the life of me! But this was a nice and easy ask to do! The rest are coming don’t worry! I’m just a wee bit tired and need some rest! But here it is, some Embarrassing dating stories. Mix of NSFW and SFW, some are just NSFW or SFW, some are a mix. Warnings; NSFW below the cut, 18+, mentions of Kano but its a shitpost, me telling the fucking truth about him! GIFS aren’t mine/ Don’t belong to me.

Kabal;

· SFW; He once got lost on the way to your date. This man, is not good with directions. It’s the last time he uses apple fucking maps. He was panicking a little on the inside. He’d sent you like ten sorry messages, about him being potentially late. He was praying you wouldn’t think he was standing you up. He ended up sitting on a bench, trying to work out where the fuck he was. He looked up, saw you sat in the restaurant, smiling, holding back a laugh and waving. He fucking died on the inside. Had to wave back and smile. Recovered his pride and walked in. Apologised for being super late and offered to make it up to you.

· NSFW; He once, during one of the first times you were intimate, made the ‘I’m Kabal’s deep in you’ joke. You weren’t disgusted or repulsed by it. But you started laughing, laughing so hard that you lost balance and fell back. Your laugh is infectious to him, so he started laughing. His cock was still in you but you both couldn’t deal with it and had to stop. Like, tears were coming down your face. It’s such a shit fucking joke. Bonus NSFW; he’d always wanted to try shower sex. You were down for some sensual dicking in the shower, turns out, it’s harder than the movies make it out to be. He slipped and chipped a tooth on the side of the bath. You’ve also broke a sink when getting too heated in the bathroom. Accident prone Kabal is a thing. He needs to wear his damn glasses more.

Sub Zero (Kuai Liang);

· SFW; Okay so dating for him is awkward anyway. He’s confident in everything but his love life. You’ve the patience of a saint to put up with him at times. He’s not a pain, he just takes things very slow. Anyway, during one of his more sleep deprived states, he thought it would be cute for him to pick you out a book to read. He was planning on going on a long-haul mission, one that would take a few weeks at the most, so he wanted to give you something to pre-occupy your time. Isn’t he considerate? Plans changed, he asked Bi-Han to deliver the book to your quarters, because he had to go. Fucking Johnny Cage being impatient. Bi-Han, being the little shit lord that he is; changed the book to the Karma Sutra. He literally gave you it and said it was from Kuai. You had a lot of fucking questions to ask him when he got back. He was fucking beet red on the tips of his ears, regretting that he ever saved his brother.

· NSFW; Because of his inexperience in the field, there are a fair few awkward and potentially embarrassing encounters. But this one takes the cake. You laugh about it now but at the time, he was fucking mortified. You had asked him very nicely to cum on your face. He wasn’t sure, but like, how hard could it be to cum on someone’s face? The answer, hard when you over think it. You’d been giving him some top-notch head, like he was so enthralled and enamoured by it; you’d reduced him to a hot mess. Well, when it came to it, he pulled out but was unsure where to aim. Whilst he was trying to think about it, he just kind of, jizzed on your face… getting it in your hair and partially on the sheets. He was fucking mortified. How could his aim be that bad? Maybe he should ask Erron for aiming lessons. You tried to laugh, but then it got in your mouth, so you were howling. Kuai was embarrassed. Because he’d just cocked it up. He laughs at it now, but only because he can actually aim now. Fucking hell.

Kenshi;

· SFW; He once planned the perfect date. One of his old school style ones. The type of date that has never failed him before. Okay, he’s prepared, he’s going to surprise you and take you to the best joint in town… you get there and its closed. Turns out, it had rats and roaches. He’s gutted, because why the fuck did he not think to research beforehand? He’s kind of embarrassed, because this is so unlike him. It turns into you two eating hot dogs on a nearby bench and giggling about it. You found it funny, and it was a nice evening, so you ended up having a nice walk and just talking. Probably one of your best dates. Every time he asks if you fancy going out, he will always suggest that place, because its funny and he needs to laugh at his mistakes... Don’t tell Johnny, Takeda or Hanzo, he will never live it down.

· NSFW; He can sense when you’re having impure thoughts about him. It’s just something he’s good at tuning into. What a useful skill. Well, he was sensing you, thinking about last nights activities. And you were really going into detail. He was far too focused on you, that he became a bit bold and brash, asking you outright if you were always this naughty before proceeding to describe what he’d do to you tonight… and queue Johnny laughing. So yeah, Johnny overheard a bit of dirty talk coming from Kenshi to you. You tried to stop him, trying to warn him that Johnny was attempting to sneak up and give him a scare. But nope. He was too busy thinking with his penis.

Raiden;

· NSFW; When you asked him if he’d be up for you giving him some sweet, sweet head. He panicked. What the fuck does one say in a situation like this? Panicked a little bit too much and actually, really, did say ‘I Must consult the Elder Gods’ he froze, had he actually just said that. You found it funny, leaning back and gesturing to the sky, before saying ‘You better go ask them quick, my soaps are on soon’ It become a little inside joke between the two of you. He doesn’t know shame or embarrassment, so he found it humorous. Maybe because it made you laugh so much. So yeah, anytime you ask him if he fancies trying something new, he will always ask you that.

Scorpion (Hanzo Hasashi)

· SFW; So, this happened before you were dating. You were both having a few drinks, one led to two, two led to four. And soon he was on his arse. He is not a great drinker, he avoids it because he will be tit over arse, before he knows it. You ended up helping him to his room, he’s heavier than he looks. Just pure muscle and all that BDE of his. Anyway, when you finally get him to his bed. He may, before he fell asleep, have admitted that he wants YOU to spoon HIM. He likes to be the little spoon when he feels a bit softer. So yeah, when you let out a chuckle. One eye will shoot open, his lips kind of curl together so their pencil thin. He cannot believe he just said that. God damn Sake. Why is it always Sake!? He knows it loosens his lips a little too much. But that all fades when you slide into the bed next to him, beginning to spoon him and giving him a kiss on his neck. Promising it yours and his secret.

· NSFW; Right. So, he does known his own strength and knows sometimes, his Scorpion side kind of creeps up on him. So, when you two are fucking, it’s pretty normal to start with. Until you ask him to go harder, and harder and harder. Eventually coaxing the Scorpion side out of him. This fucker raises his kinky head out of nowhere. Starts pounding into you at the exact pace you want. Like fucking hell, the force of a thousand suns type pounding… and you heard a creak. The bed fucking breaks. He fucked you so hard. The bed broke. You both kind of fall off it and onto the floor. He’s mortified, cock still balls deep in you, his eyes are wide, and panic is setting in. Johnny is staying over, in the room below yours, and now he’s probably awake. Because it was loud. How does one recover from this? Well, simple. He loudly compliments your stance, before offering you advice on how to improve your form. Fucking smooth. Some Kombat advice whilst he’s balls deep in you. So yeah, he has the power to break a bed. If that isn’t big dick energy, I don’t know what is.

Erron Black;

· SFW; He has so many cute pet names for you. And he’s actually a big softie at heart. He just wants to flatter, worship and make you feel divine. So, he has a habit of sending cute messages whilst he’s at work. He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself. One day, during a sleep deprived state, he types up a rather cute message. About how he cannot wait to get home, cuddle and have a bath. Ends up sending it to Kabal instead of you. Queue Kabal asking what bathbomb he’s going to use, who’s going to be the bigger spoon and if there will be some Barry White background music. He’s thankful it was just Kabal who received the message. Because he can deal with that little shit. All he has to do is hide his glasses and threaten to out him for collecting dolls. They aren’t dolls, their action figures, but to Erron they are the same thing.

· NSFW; He’d snuck you into base. He knew he shouldn’t. But you were horny, he was horny, everyone was horny. You’re both being really quiet, as quiet as you can possibly be. He’s got his hand over your mouth, he’s biting his lip real good. Like there will be no noises tonight! Even though he’s dying to hear them. One problem, he didn’t give a damn good reason to why he was going to his room early. He just said none of your damn business. Not a good excuse. Queue Kabal coming in and asking if he had the new Wi-Fi password. Kano in tow because he wants to watch Porn. Because he’s fucking disgusting and nobody loves him. So yeah, they caught him dicking you. It was not a pleasant experience. Kabal just kind of stares before leaving, like he isn’t that desperate for the password, he’ll come back when he’s finished. He actually says that. Kano pulls up a chair and asks if he wants pointers. Erron tells him to get the hell out, unless he wants a bullet in his face. Kano scoffs, but he keeps a gun on the nightstand just in case. One shot just to the left of where he’s sitting, and Kano is gone. You were shielded mostly from them, just your face on show, but still. Fucking mortifying.

Kung Lao;

· NSFW; Once for a joke let you try on his hat. Because he thought, hey, that would be cute, seeing you in his hate. Oh no. It was more than cute. He got hard watching you wear it, attempting to toy with it. My god why is his dick so hard?! Can you tell?! Please say you can’t tell. He’ll end up shifting, trying to hide it, because this cannot be normal. You ask if he’s fine and he’s like ‘Oh yeah, me? Sure. Fine and dandy. Fine. Yeah. Sure.’ He’s fucking burning up on the inside though. He must resist temptation to ask if you wanna wear it whilst you fuck. But the fucking hat on you, it makes you look so powerful and strong. Long Story short, you do end up fucking, and you’re still wearing the hat whilst you’re fucking. He’s like ‘Please don’t tell Liu Kang or Raiden. Or just anyone.’ The Great Kung Lao is smiling down, with such fucking pride at him right now. Wiping a tear away from his spirit eye.

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lady-une · 4 years

Text

BSD Ch 15

Holy cow man, I can’t believe I have not updated this story in over a year. I want to first thank all of you for even still holding out for this update. It’s been a crazy year for us with everything that is going on. We just have to hold out hope a little bit longer. I understand that there is a lot of hate for Seungri right now and a lot of people are believing in what the media is feeding them, but I am still holding out hope and won’t put my blind faith in the media who only lives to drag people through the dirt. I won’t get into my stance on everything going on, this is not the place for that. But if you are not a fan then please just move on. I am and will always be ot5. But anyways, please enjoy this chapter. I deleted this many times because it wasn’t and still isn’t up to par with previous chapters. Just leave me some love if you do like it and if you don’t leave me some constructive cristicm in the comments. Thanks.

He thought their love was eternal, that nothing would be able to break them apart. He put his trust and faith in the man he loved with all his heart. The one man he thought would never hurt him, did it in the most horrific way possible. How will he move on, having to see the man who broke his heart day in and day out. Having to see him smile and look at another the way he once did him. If had known this was his destiny all along, he would never had started on this path to begin with.

Word count: 3197

Theme: Angst

Rating: Mature, SMUT, Drinking

Pairing: Kwon Jiyong x Seungri

Master List

Chapter 1

The first few weeks out of the hospital was not at all what Seungri expected. His bandmates were still doing their tour but whenever they were home someone was always there checking on him. It wouldn’t have bothered him as much if he wasn’t already being watched like a small infant. Besides his parents and sister always being around, Mino was there checking on him daily and Jiyong had a nurse coming to check on him.

That was probably the thing he didn’t understand, why was his leader so worried about him? Yes, it made sense for Jiyong to worry since he was the leader, but he was going above and beyond what a group leader would do. Every time Seungri tried to think of a reason for Jiyong to be so concerned about him his head would become fuzzy and he would stop.

Being home in the apartment without anyone there was like a mini vacation, Seungri felt like he could finally breathe. Most of the time he would walk around just looking at things. The doctors said he had partial amnesia, but he was able to remember mostly everything but every now and then he would have parts he couldn’t remember. Walking into the guest room he sat on the bed and tried to think of a reason why he would be in the guest room and not his own. The first night he had tried to sleep back in his room but couldn’t fall asleep, so he ended up going right back to the guest room where he fell into a deep sleep easily. Clearly there was something about the room that made him uncomfortable.

Slowly as the days went on Seungri was able to leave his apartment, choosing to head back to the studio as he wanted to be productive instead of being lazy at home. Mino was always there with him, Seungri’s heart fluttered when he was around. Mino made sure he was eating right and taking rests when needed. The way he cared about Seungri was sweet, a fuzzy feeling would always brush over him as if there was a memory on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t get it. It was as if there was another person who had made him feel this way, but he couldn’t remember who it was.

Sitting on the oversized plush chair that he could not remember ever seeing in the studio Seungri was going over some notebooks he had found. They were journals of his feelings, reading them tore at his heart and his head would hurt but he pushed through hoping that they would help him make sense of things. The journals were clearly from before the accident and current. Someone had hurt him beyond repair. Reaching to the table next to him he grabbed another notebook and started writing. Seungri thought maybe if he were to make these into songs that they would help him recover part of his missing memory.

Standing outside the door peaking in Jiyong watched Seungri writing away, happy that he was sitting comfortably in the chair instead of those ass breaking chairs. If Seungri was going to be coming into the studio to work, then he wanted him to be as comfortable as can be. Lifting his hand he placed it on the window, he wanted nothing more than to be in there with him. He wanted to feel Seungri’s hand on his own.

“Hello hyung.”

Jiyong closed his eyes and counted to ten before turning around to see Mino behind him.

“Seungri is writing again, I can’t wait to see what he comes up with. Are you excited too hyung? I bet it will be something heartbreaking with how he is pulling from his journals as inspiration.”

“Watch it Mino.”

“I watch a lot hyung. I watch him do everything he can with a smile. I watch him laugh at home and watch him get frustrated when watching a tv show. I get to watch everything. What do you get to watch?”

Jiyong could feel the anger building up inside him. He hated that it was Mino who was getting to watch everything firsthand meanwhile he had to sit on the sideline. It should have been him there along side Seungri, but his own stupid selfishness kept him from being there.

“Well if you excuse me hyung, I should see if Seungri needs anything.”

Mino pushed passed Jiyong to enter the room and the sound of his voice as he greeted Seungri was too sweet and made Jiyong want to vomit. Peering into the room he watched Mino bend down to hug Seungri and watched him place a kiss on his cheek. Clenching his hand into a fist Jiyong could see Mino looking up at him as he planted that kiss, the look in his eye was a challenge to Jiyong. If the younger man wanted to challenge him then he would play along. He would get back Seungri if it was the last thing he would do.

“Hyung how is the music coming?” Mino ask pulling back after watching Jiyong storm off from the door and sat down across from Seungri.

“It is coming along well, it’s rather sad. I don’t know if it is something that should even see the light of day.”

“Don’t say that, it’s good that we have a mixture of emotions in the music. We can’t always be happy every second of the day. Plus, our fans need music to listen to when they are broken hearted.”

“True, but I really wish I could remember who made me this way. I know you all know who it was but none of you want to tell me. Why won’t you tell me?”

“The doctor has told us that you need to figure that out on your own. That if we were to tell you it would be a shock to your system. Your brain isn’t ready for you to remember that, when it is time you will.”

“I know you all keep tell me that, but I am tire of waiting.”

“Hyung you spent months in a coma, you can wait until your body is ready. Let’s just enjoy the time we have before all the memories come back.”

Seungri just nodded his head, clearly Mino was not going to give up anything. Just like the other members no one was willing to help him out. Maybe if he were to get them drinking it might help loosen those tight lips. Setting the notebook down Seungri grabbed his phone and sent a message to the group chat asking if they would like to get a drink tonight. Quickly the responses came in that of course they would love to. Smiling Seungri put down his phone, he would get answers soon.

Mino and Seungri pulled up to the restaurant and allowed valet to park the car. Walking in they were greeted before being taken to the back private room. The closer they got to the room he could hear the loud laughter of a certain bingu. Upon entering the room Seungri looked around as his bandmates and smiled when he spotted an open bottle of wine already on the table. No doubt the reason for the loud laughing.

“Our Maknae has arrived!” Daesung sand out as he got out of his seat and danced over to him causing Seungri to break out into his own laughter.

“What you don’t like my dancing?”

“I loved your dancing, but you reminded me of the time Jiyong hyung had to pretend to be a girl and dance.”

Daesung gasped and lightly slapped Seungri on the chest, “How could you say that, I dance more gracefully then our leader.”

“Yeah Maknae how could you say that about Daesung, he dances very seductively when he needs to.” The oldest member said as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Daesung covered his face in hope to hide the blush that was quickly spreading over his body. Seungri and Mino moved out of the doorway and over to the table and sat down next to Youngbae.

“So how is the music coming along?” Youngbae asked.

“It is going well hyung, rather sad but well. I should have the first song’s lyrics down and then I will only need some beats to go with it.”

“Well leave it up to Jiyong, I bet he will find something to go with your words.”

“Speaking of Jiyong, where is he?” Seungri asked as he looked again around the table and noticed his absence.

“Oh he got called away for a meeting but he might show up later if need be.”

“Ok.”

“Enough talk lets eat!” Seunghyun shouted in his drunken state.

The drinks flowed the whole night as everyone ate happily. They talked about the concert and how much the fans missed Seungri. They talked about Youngbae and what is like to be a parent. Seungri lit up every time Youngbae brought up his child, he wanted nothing more than to have his own child one day. He knew it was going to be hard, society won’t take lightly to a gay man wanting to adopt a baby. Yet he knew he didn’t want to live in hiding his whole life.

It was around 11pm when he knew the other members were very much intoxicated along with Mino as Mino was drinking everything that was offered to Seungri. Seunghyun was slurring his words and trying to get Daesung to get up and dance with him to music that no one could hear. Youngbae was happily smiling on at the two love birds who were in their own little world. Mino was resting his head on his hand, half aware of everything and half asleep. Now would be the time if he were to ever get answers.

“Yah bingu hyung.” Seungri called out.

Seunghyun stopped trying to pull Daesung from his chair and looked over at Seungri, his eyes barely open.

“I was wondering if you could help me with something?”

“You need help from the best dancer of this group?” He playfully said as he moved his hips.

Seungri laughed, “Not right now but I was hoping you could help clear something up for me?”

“Of course, you tell your hyung what it is, and I will help you.” Seunghyun said as he sat down in his chair.

“Well as I was working on my music, I was reading my journals and wondering who caused me to feel this pain.”

“The person is a bad person. You don’t need to worry about him.”

“But hyung who is he?”

“A bad bad man. Don’t worry about it. Here have a drink and forget about him.”

It was then that Mino shot his head up to grab the shot and downing it before face planting onto the table. Clearly that was the shot that broke the camel’s back.

“Yeah Maknae don’t worry about the past.” Youngbae pipped up before yawning.

“But hyungs I deserve to know.”

“You will when it is time. Just relax. I am going to use the restroom and check in at home.”

Youngbae stood and walked out the door or rather stumbled out the door. Daesung hummed in agreement as he laid his head on the table and nuzzled next to Seunghyun’s arm that was on the table.

“Hyung wouldn’t you want to know who hurt you? How about you just give me clues. You won’t have to say the name but you can give me an idea of who it is.”

“Hmmmm maybe. Not a lot and I won’t tell you who it is.”

“Good, go ahead with the first clue.”

“He is older than you.”

“Ok, not too helpful.”

“He is in the music industry.”

“Is he under our label.”

“Yes.”

“Ok next clue?”

“He can dance.”

“Well clearly if he is under our label. Even the actors can dance.”

“He can drink really well.”

Seungri rubbed his neck, these clues were not helpful at all.

“He charmed his way into your life at an early point. He was fiercely protective of you and loved you deeply.”

“Well apparently not if I go based off my journals.”

“What can I say he is an idiot. Anyone around you guys could see how much that man loved you. I don’t really understand why myself as to the real reason he did what he did. He told us why and told you why but it just doesn’t make sense.”

“Ok, what does he look like?”

“He is average height I guess. He has black hair and big feet. Most of the time he has a scowl on his face but that is just who he is recently.”

“Can you tell me what his name starts with or his sur name?”

“That would be cheating.” Seunghyun sang out.

“But hyung none of these clues are helpful, you just described the majority of the men at our label. Hell you just described Hyung-suk himself!”

Seunghyun shook with a look of disgust on his face as if he had just eaten something awful.

“Fine he goes by two names.”

“What are those names?”

“One of the alias names is..”

Before Seunghyun could utter the name the door to the private room swung open with an angry looking Jiyong holding up a very tired and drunk looking Youngbae.

“What the hell is going on here?” Jiyong shouted.

Seungri and Seunghyun both looked at Jiyong with a smile on their faces before they both said “Nothing” in unison.

“Nothing? This doesn’t look like nothing. Who let Youngbae drink? You know he can’t handle his alcohol.”

Jiyong looked around the room to see Daesung passed out and drooling next to Seunghyun. Next to Seungri laid Mino who was lightly snoring away.

“I think it may be time for everyone to get home and get some rest.” Jiyong said as he tried to deescalate his own emotions. He wasn’t sure if he should have let the elder member tell Seungri or if he should leave it up to Seungri to figure things out. Walking over to a chair Jiyong deposited Youngbae before walking out to settle the tab.

As he was paying the tab he could feel Seungri near him before he heard him.

“Hyung I should be paying, it was my idea to have everyone come out.”

“None sense. Let me pay for this.”

“But hyung….”

“Did you have fun tonight maknae?” Jiyong asked in a gentle voice.

“I did, even if Mino didn’t let me drink. How was your meeting?”

Jiyong thought back to his meeting as he ordered some drivers to take the members home. “It was ok, but I would have rather been here with you.”

Seungri felt his heart flutter quickly, it surprised him.

“Well you’re a businessman so of course you would have to go to the meeting.”

“The meeting was boring compared to the fun it looks like you guys had.”

Jiyong moved closer to Seungri and grabbed his hand and walked back towards the private room.

“Hyung.” Seungri quietly said.

“Hmm.” Jiyong answered.

“Will you tell me who the guy is that hurt me?”

“I can’t maknae.”

“But hyung why not? I almost had a good clue before you opened the door. You owe me now.” Seungri said sternly looking up dead in the eyes of Jiyong.

Jiyong smiled, he enjoyed this playful tiger-panda that Seungri was. He was going to enjoy this as much as possible. Move closer to Seungri he enclosed him between his to hands pinning him against the wall next to the door.

“If I give you that clue maknae what will you give me?” Jiyong asked in a whisper.

“Whatever you want hyung.” Seungri stuttered out. His heart was racing, and he could feel this emotion stirring inside him. It was a feeling of being prey, as if he was caught but at the same time it was exciting.

Jiyong moved in closer to Seungri leaning in next to his ear and whispered, “Don’t say whatever if you don’t plan on following through.”

Seungri gasped as he felt Jiyong’s breath against his ear, he could feel his pants start to get tighter as he became aroused.

“Hyung..” He breathless whispered.

Jiyong moved closer and put his knee between Seungri’s legs. He knew what he was doing, Seungri’s weakness was his ear. It was the one thing Jiyong could count on for helping him get what he wanted.

“Yes maknae?” Jiyong whispered again before ghosting his lips over Seungri’s neck.

Seungri let out a low moan, his member was fully hard now and he worried that Jiyong would feel it. The fear he had was confirmed when Jiyong also pressed his own hard member against Seungri.

“What do you need Ri? Tell me and I will give it to you.”

“Hyung please…” Seungri moaned out as he began to rock against Jiyong.

Jiyong growled lowly as he felt Seungri rock against him. It had been so long for him since the two had been this way. He wanted nothing more than to take him right then and there, media be damned. He was ready to claim what should be his.

“Tell me Ri, use your words. I can’t read your mind as much as I wish I could. I would love to know what dirty little thoughts you might have locked up inside that brain of yours.”

“I…I…I need..” Seungri could barely form a sentence, his need to find out who the mystery man is was battling the need for release.

“Just tell me, I will do anything you want.” Jiyong repeated as he placed gentle kiss on the Seungri’s neck.

“Touch me.”

That was all he needed. Jiyong moved one hand down to Seungri’s hard member and began palming it. The minute his hand made contact with Seungri, Seungri lost all control to stand upright. Jiyong had to quickly support Seungri as he was rubbing him. Seungri hid his face in Jiyong’s shoulder as he enjoyed every bit of what was going on. He could feel his orgasm rushing forward. It would take much longer, he just needed Jiyong to keep rubbing him.

“Don’t stop…” Seungri moaned out.

“Never.” Jiyong replied.

The hot feeling was rushing forward up Seungri’s body, grasping onto his Jiyong’s shoulder with his hands he bit down waiting for the orgasm to hit.

“Where the fuck are you two?” Seunghyun shouted as he opened the door.

Seungri in his startled state pushed Jiyong away from him and stuttered out “Right here hyung, we were order the drivers.”

“Good, good. I need to get Daesung in bed or he will be crabby tomorrow.”

“Well let’s head out, I am sure the drivers are here.”

Seungri walked over to the eldest member with a half-smile.

“Maknae are you ok? You look flushed? You’re not getting sick are you?”

Jiyong stood there as the two disappeared into the room. Being cock blocked by a drunk Seunghyun is by far the worst thing. Moving his hand down to his pants to readjust had him thinking otherwise, dealing with blue balls is much worse than that.

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