#also he has crows feet. idk if you can tell

[catscalling]

Howdy; the god of Flora!

#Poppy is next yall #guess what her thing is #also he has crows feet. idk if you can tell #but its important in my heart #OH yeah and his like #uh #hold on idr what its called #I guess its just a turkey neck ? #anyways he has that. draw him without it I might explode you #welcome home #welcome home au #howdy pillar #welcome home divine au #divine howdy #my art

[max-nico]

hey anon from the clothing ask here~

i meant the mobian culture around clothing but you can pick the one that you like more! :)

sorry for not clarifying

Ofc ofc !!!! You're all good Anon 🫶🏾 forgive me if I take a bit to answer this ask, I need to organize my thoughts into words lol as of me writing this sentence I'm trying to condense an essays worth of writing into somewhat easily consumable bullet points.

Hope this is to your liking 🫶🏾🫶🏾

Gloves

I've been Headcanoning gloves are worn for decency's sake, as in they are the Mobian equivalent to undergarments for humans, but I hadn't really put more thought into it than that

I'm sure it's either for practical reasons, or it's more of an emotional trust type of thing.

For example, cats typically don't let you pet their stomach or their paws unless they're sleeping and they leave them exposed to you, hence trusting you.

Or, animals typically don't all experience touch the same way. Some bugs can taste with their hands and feet, and I'm sure it'd be uncomfortable to be tasting every single hand you've ever held. So, gloves.

I'm also sure there are plenty of animals who are highly sensitive to touch or temperature, which would also make accidentally bumping hands in the street uncomfortable

I understand that, as someone who's touch averse and germaphobic I completely understand the need for everyone to wear gloves.

I'm sure some Mobians wear them less than others, like deer (idk much about deer so I could be wrong) probably can't feet much through hooves, and I'm sure their Mobian counter parts have hands but maybe the low amount of nerve endings carry over

Maybe it's more of a politeness thing? Like not wearing gloves in public is a bit of a dick move, because even if it doesn't affect you personally it could affect the person you're next to.

I also don't think young kids have to wear gloves. Have you ever tried to get shoes on a toddler who hates them, and will just take them off and lose them anyway? It's a lot of work for zero reward

You obviously have to teach your kids to wear them though. Especially once they start hitting about preschool age...

..But I'm just spit balling here lol

Clothes

I definitely think clothes are a human influence, Mobians don't really wear clothes generally. Most of our cast wears like- shoes and gloves + a jacket at most

Even Sally's original design followed that pattern

I think Mobians who grew up around humans, or have at least spent a long time around humans have adapted to wearing clothes most of the time.

Take Amy who has always worn clothes, and has basically always been in a city, compared to Sonic and Tails, who have always been living fast and free, yk?

Or Knuckles who grew up on a secluded floating island compared to Rouge who literally has a government job lol

Ofc, Shadow exists, and he doesn't wear clothes but he's also this half alien science experiment on immortality who grew up in space and then was put into stasis for 50 years and then suffered from severe memory loss

So... I feel like he may be a huge outlier lol...

I'm sure clothing for Mobians is a huge tell on where everyone's from, because Mobians from Holoska, Empire, Soleanna, and Spagonia, do not all dress the same, even if the patterns on their coat are similar

Basically the same thing people do when it comes to cultural clothing and skin color

I think it'd be cool if Mobians would've naturally progressed into face paints and hair(fur?) dye instead of clothes without human interference

Other

I was thinking about animal habits that carry over to their Mobians counterparts, then I started thinking about crows lol

Crow type Mobians, no matter where they live or are from, would typically gravitate toward maximalism and shiny garbs. But then I was like... Okay that's cool but where do stereotypes begin and instincts end?

Then I learned that crows might not actually collect shiny things and that it's probably a myth and decided to apologize to the crow Mobians I made up for stereotyping them lol

My question still stands though !! I also feel like someone asking a Mobian something along the lines of "So do you wear necklaces because wild crows like to collect shiny things?" Would be more of a human thing lol

I feel like Mobians in general have a better understanding of each other's instincts than humans do, which can definitely lead to inappropriate questions

But crows are still hoarders though... So maybe if raised by their own they all do tend to wear a maximalist style, but then would that end up being nature or nurture?

And THEN I was talking to my girlfriend about this and she was like, "well maybe these hypothetical crows all grew up hearing these stories about their ancestors that could be true or false, but they've just been honoring this traditionally shiny clothing for so long that it's second nature"

and was like wow.... And now there's even more questions to ask and we've been talking about hypothetical crows for a long time and I feel like we're getting too far from the original point bc now we're getting into specifics instead of more broad topics

But I figured I'd put it here anyways

#sth #sonic the hedgehog #i have the mic #asking and answering #sonic headcanons #headcanons #i love world building. this isn't even close to everything i could talk about. thank you sm for the ask #i needed to cut off the post somewhere or else i would go on forever #archie sonic #sonic #sth headcanons #sth hcs #sonic fanfiction #i didnt even talk about sticks the badger but i could've

[iridescentgleam]

12, 18, and 34 for the ask game !!

(Ask game from here!)

Thank you for asking, Crow! :D

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be?

I wish I could be in a productive environment free of distractions whenever I write

I wish I always had a clear idea of where the story's going when I start a WIP 😭

And I wish, sometimes, that I could write well for more fandoms than I do, but I'm working on that! hehe

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

(@amiharana, you asked this one too, so here's the answer for both of you! :D This was a very hard one lol)

"Just as [Twilight] got a second to contemplate this, three explosions rang out across the clearing, throwing off his balance a little as he scrambled to pinpoint the origin, only to see an electric arrow wiz right over his shoulder, barely missing him as the hair on his neck stood straight up. He whirled around, catching a glimpse of a figure descending with a paraglider. Once they were about twenty feet off of the ground, they let go and fell like a deadweight, landing in a crouch as they met the fight head-on in a blaze of glory and golden braids that caught the moonlight just right." - A current WIP entitled "Flight of the Wilds" (subject to change)

I think the prompt was asking for a piece of currently published writing and I can add that if you guys want later, but I figured I'd treat you both with my current Revalink WIP 💛 It's also a LU fic, but that's not the point lol. This doesn't even begin to cover the premise of the oneshot, as it's projected to be about 30,000+ words. I wrote most of it on paper (crying it's thirty-two pages front and back and IM NOT EVEN DONE), so you better believe a lot is getting changed as I type it out lol.

This is very early on in the oneshot when Twilight reunites with Wild for the first time. The Chain is getting ambushed by a hoard of monsters and Wild comes by and helps them. In this, he's definitely picked up a lot of his archery skills from Revali, hence the signature three bomb arrows. He's still not nearly as good at the Rito himself, though! :D hehe

This sequence likely won't change any more than it already has, as the beginning doesn't need a whole lot of work anymore imo. It didn't used to be nearly as epic, though. Originally, the scene is a lot more Twilight-centric (as the story is told from his POV), but I changed it because it didn't focus nearly enough on Wild as it really should have for his introduction scene??? Idk what I was thinking tbh. Didn't even address how Wild even got there fr, which is why I made him glide down from his paraglider like the BAMF he is lmaooooo The blond braids stayed the whole time, tho 👍 That, I can assure you lol

34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

As someone who perhaps uses commas where they ought not be, I use the Oxford comma in my writing almost religiously and I find it hard to read anything that does not contain it lol.

As someone who is learning Spanish, though, (which does not make use of the Oxford comma, like, at all) it is a very hard habit to break, but I am working on it! lol

#ask answered #ask game #thanks for the ask! :D #cryiling #iri's wips! #lu wild #lu twilight #revalink

[merrybandofmurderers]

[ID: banner reading Work In Progress Wednesday in loopy white text on a lavender background /END ID]

tagged by @fade-and-loathing-in-thedas. continuation of this scene i posted a year ago lmao. for context, in this worldstate, bashaar is the herald, and matteo is the inquisitor and also an ex-crow who ends up romancing dorian, in spite of himself.

(idk how to warn for this, but matteo has a fucked up perspective of sex since he's never experienced it outside the coercive circumstances of his work. dorian didn't force him in any way, but there's implied dubcon just becuz of how matteo thinks about sex)

“Well, then.” Matteo took a deep breath, straightening, and met Dorian’s eyes. “If you tell me what you want, I’ll see what I can do.”

The earth tilted under Dorian’s feet again. “Come again?”

Matteo’s eyebrow raised the same way it had when he questioned Dorian’s lingering presence in his bed. “You said you want something. It’s okay, but you didn’t need to seduce me for it. I like you, so I’ll get it.”

The feeling of wrongness was turning to a sense of dread.

“What do you mean, seduce you?”

Matteo was looking at Dorian as though he were baffling one. “To get what you want?”

“I—I wasn’t trying to get anything from you.”

Matteo’s expression grew annoyed again. “But you just said you wanted something else.”

“Yes, but I—what I want isn’t a thing.”

Matteo threw his hands up, exasperated. “Well, if you can speak plainly for five seconds so I know what you do want!”

Dorian’s mouth opened, but the words immediately choked up in his throat. Matteo glared at him, impatient. Finally, Dorian managed, “Why did you have sex with me?”

“Because you wanted it. I said that already.”

“But… did you want it?”

Matteo huffed, hands on his hips. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.” Dorian’s gut felt decidedly cold now. “I like you, so I gave it to you. You seemed pleased enough, and if you want something else, I can get that for you, too.”

“Matteo, I—I wasn’t looking for this to—to be some kind of transaction.” That was the last thing Dorian wanted, in fact.

Matteo scoffed. “Well, if that’s all you wanted, then I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.”

“You haven’t…” Dorian pressed his fingers to his temple. “All right, just—just give me a moment.” He focused on calming his thoughts. “Did you want to have sex with me?”

Matteo’s brow folded in consternation. “You already asked that, and I told you, it’s irrelevant. You wanted it, so I gave it to you.”

Dorian took a fortifying breath. “But did you want to give it to me?”

“I wasn’t opposed to it. I told you, I felt no particular way about it.” He shrugged. “It’s sex; I’ve had a lot of it.”

“But have you ever enjoyed it?”

Matteo was beginning to look distinctly uncomfortable. It was not a look Dorian had ever seen on him before. “I don’t understand why we’re talking about this. What does it matter what I wanted or what I enjoyed? I did it to make you happy, so I don’t understand why you’re not.”

“I wanted to make you happy, too.”

“I was.”

“But you didn’t want it.”

Matteo’s eyes flashed, clearly at the end of his patience. “I did not say that!”

“Well, you didn’t say you did want it.”

“Because it’s irrelevant! Sex isn’t anything to me! I did it because you wanted it and I like you and wanted to make you happy!”

Dorian was at a loss for words.

tagging @mrs-theirin, @gaysolavellan, @calicostorms, @transfenris-truther

#my stuff #my fic #fic: in silvered light #sh: matteo x dorian

[zoros-bandana]

would you write something for me please? (only if you want to of course) reader being the only one that has the ability to calm zoro down, at first its just with friendly talk, then it becomes holding hands sometimes, friendly cuddling, until one day he loses his shit and goes looking for her, she holds him and sings to him and thats when he realizes hes hopelessly in love with her

Of course! This is so cute. I have never written like a sad Zoro type thing before but I thought I would try and see where it goes (sort of like a sad/overwhelmed realisation and confession type thing) I hope that’s okay. Like he gets so angry and overwhelmed that he just gets so tired and sad over it. (I’m also sorry this took me so long and its short idk I’m feeling a little bleh with my writing atm idk why so it’s taking me a while to actually write something and not absolutely hate it ya know)

Lullaby

(SFW)

Warning: mention of fighting, mention of yelling/screaming

Summary: overwhelmed and upset, Zoro comes looking for the one person who can calm him down; not expecting to fall in love with them

Word Count: 1,800

________________________________________

You woke to the sound of screams on the deck outside; along with the rest of the crew. Hastily, you sprung to your feet to join your crew in finding the reason for the rude awakening. You stepped onto the deck, standing next to Chopper as you all watched Sanji and Zoro erupting in viscous screams. “They’ve been like this for hours…” Chopper admitted, not knowing what to do; his voice trembling. Your eyes flickered between the two of them, watching the aggressive match play on; Nami appearing on your right giving you an idea. “Go restrain Sanji, I’ll grab Zoro” you ordered her, already on your way to break them up.

“Oi!” You gripped at the swordsman’s ear, yanking him down to look at you “stop it”. You voice was strong and serious compared to your usual soft tone with him, knowing he would listen to you this way in front of the others. His breath fanned hot and jagged against your face; swearing to snap at you at any second. He tried to open his mouth but you beat him to it, knowing instantly what he would try and protest “Nami is taking care of Sanji; I’m not singling you out here”. You pushed him over towards the mast of the crows nest, ushering him to climb it and give space between the two of them. You kept a close eye on him, watching as his grumbling frame climbed up; swearing under his breath.

“(Y/n), what the hell!” Zoro barked as you finally joined him up in the crows nest. He was still mad; his whole body shaking with adrenaline. You got close to him again, your demeanour more soft and understanding now they had separated. “What happened?” You asked softly, ushering him to sit down with you. He huffed, letting you show him to the seat, collapsing down next to him. “He’s just… so… so…” you could tell he was struggling to form words; his head overflowing with anger towards the chef he couldn’t think straight himself.

You turned to face him, cupping his shaking hand between your own to calm him, stoking the back of his hand. His face slowly began to soften from your touch, allowing him to think more clearer. He finally looked over at you, still angry, but less reactive “I hate that stupid curly brow”. “Why?” “He wasted the last of the sake in his stupid dish…” he looked away, almost embarrassed as the words came out of his mouth; realising how idiotic he sounded, that there was nothing you could do to help him. “Zoro…” you began, but he cut you off “save it, (y/n), I don’t want to hear it”.

He sounded tiresome, his eyes drooped as he looked over at you “I know there’s nothing I can do but…” he half shrugged, hoping you’d understand the rest of his sentence. “He shouldn’t have been going through your stash” you agreed. He nodded, sighing. “Did you want me to talk to him?” you offered, knowing the lovesick cook would fold easier coming from you. He scoffed, “and have him know I told you that? Not a chance!” You held up your hands in defence “okay, okay, I won’t talk to him. But I do think there must be something done here”. He hummed, thinking of a solution. “I know” he smirked, looking over at you “I’ll just drink it quicker… he won’t be able to get his hands on it then”. You chuckled at his response, forgetting how thick he could be sometimes “and you say you’re not an alcoholic…”.

—————————

You opened the door of the bathroom, sighing, ready to wash off the day. The room was dark when you entered, engulfing you in a bottomless oasis of quiet; all except the sounds of someone softly breathing. Confused, you switched on the light, your eyes flickering to the body crouched down in the corner. Zoro sat bundled up, his arms resting on his knees as he buried his head into his chest. His body shook in rage, his hands clasped so tight his knuckles were white. You hurried over to his body, collapsing down next to him.

“Hey, I got you” you outstretched your arms around his large frame, holding him tight to you. He lifted his head, realising it was you, staying quiet; just letting you hold him. “Don’t wanna talk about it” he gritted through his teeth. “That’s okay, I’ll be here either way” you nodded, rubbing his back as he eased into you. You sat with him as his body began to settle, his breathing becoming more solid against you. You started to half sing along to Binks’ Sake, knowing your singing voice would crack some sort of response out of him. He chuckled lightly against you, his head lifting up from his knees.

“Ya know you can’t sing, right?” He teased, looking over at you.

“Yeah?” You retorted “and you reckon you can do better?”

He smirked “I guess not, no”.

“That’s what I thought” you leaned back from him, admiring his calmer stance knowing your trick worked on him.

—————————

“(Y/N)!” Zoro screamed out, his hands balled into fists. The crew all watched as he stomped around the deck, his skin on fire from anger. They knew when he was like this there was no way to calm him down; he had to figure that out on his own term. He always had a set target when he was like this. He needed someone to blow his anger out onto and unfortunately for you today was the day. “(Y/N)!” He called again, panic laced under his anger. He was shaking profusely; a horrid day only getting worse as it went on and he was pissed.

He burst through every door he could see, calling out for you as he did, his body so overwhelmed and numb. He needed to find you and he needed you now. You were the only person that could sooth him. Everything about you made him feel safe; like he would be okay. He couldn’t stand not being away from you when he was like this; so full of rage and sorrow. He felt lightheaded and dizzy, feeling like he was going in circles tracking you down; like you disappeared from the ship.

Zoro slammed the door open of the girls room with a loud crash, startling you from your book. You looked up at him, worried, setting your book aside next to you “hey, what happened?” He stood there, his breath heavy and body shaking, not knowing what to do now.

He needed you.

He needed you so bad he thought he would combust if he didn’t have you hold him.

He walked over to you with a fierce determination, allowing you to outstretch your arms for him to collapse into. You held his shaking body into your chest, brushing his hair out of his face, his lip beginning to quiver until he burst out into tears, gripping into you tighter. You soothed and cooed at him, attempting to mellow his cries as he wept into your shirt. “Hey, hey, hey, hey, you’re okay. You’re safe with me, okay? Whatever is troubling you, we can fix it. You are not alone in this”. He sobbed into you harder, your words only bringing out more tears. You rested your lips against his head, shutting your eyes; your fingers tracing his back hoping it would ease his pain. You began to hum some tune you overheard Brook sing once, rocking him into a safe lull.

His heart felt incredibly tight like someone was gripping it: squeezing it in his chest. His eyes stung as he sobbed, not being able to stop the stream that wet the shirt below him. He felt hopeless in that moment. He was so overwhelmed he forgot why he was really crying; focused on his new reason.

He loved you.

He loved you so much he didn’t know what to do.

He loved that you were his safe space; somewhere to go when he was like this.

He loved how calm and patient you were with him; how understanding you were to his needs.

He loved how even in a room full of people you would always search for him; to make sure he was okay and safe.

He loved that you cared about the crew and were more loyal and supportive than he could ever imagine anyone being.

He loved the way your lips curled when you smile.

He loved the way your eyes danced when you were exited; sharing the same enthusiasm as your captain.

He loved you wholeheartedly that he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore.

Zoro mumbled something into your chest, making you stop your humming, lifting your head to hear him better. “Hmm?” He adjusted his head, freeing his trapped face from your shirt; his breath shallow. “Whatever it is, you can tell me” you reassured him “you know I’m always on your side, Zoro”. He sniffled, fighting against the tears still spilling from his eyes. You could tell there was something he wanted to say but held back; too afraid and choked up to say it.

It was like you could read him; so open to you as he lied on your chest. He didn’t need to say anything because you already knew; and you felt the same. You could tell how hard it was for him to form a sentence let alone confess something you never thought would ever come from him. You had to be the one to initiate it.

“Zoro?” You called, attempting to get his full attention, squeezing his frail body closer to you. He hummed, his voice gurgling from tears. You waited a few seconds, collecting yourself, taking a deep breath in to calm you both. “I love you, too”.

You could feel his breath hitch, a stray whimper coming from him as he adjusted himself, sitting up. He wiped at his eyes before turning to look at you, stinging with a wash of bright red. His lip was trembling again, not expecting your words; wishing he said them first. You sat up on your knees, leaning out to him, cupping his cheek in your hand. “It’s okay” you wiped at the tears “you don’t need to say it I already know”. He nodded feebly, placing his hand over yours. His eyes shut, tired from the sting, hoping it would help to sooth his frail body. “How about you rest?” You suggested, sitting back again; your arms out once more to let him come to you. He stalked back into your arms, weary and heavy. His body felt drained from the crying, needing to recover in the arms of the person he loved.

“Can… can you sing to me again” he mumbled, settling down into your chest. As you began to softly murmur to him he snuggled into you, his eyes fluttering shut as he drifted off to sleep in your arms. “(Y/n)” he whispered, letting you continue to sing over his words “I love you”.

#doves requests #idk why I struggled so much with this I'm so sorry #idk if its because its a different zoro or like im just drained or what but idk #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro imagine #zoro scenario #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro imagine #roronoa zoro scenario

[lale-txt]

i just saw your requests are open omg 💐 idk HDHSJAJAJ IDK WHAT TO REQUEST im dumb but uhm .. any shanks or rayleigh fluff would do omg 👉🏻👈🏻 IS THIS HOW YOU DO IT i have never done this before 😵 i hope you’re doing good, lale! take care of yourself, stay safe and drink lots of water <3 SMOOCH

YOU DID AN AMAZING JOB IN REQUESTING, don't worry honey <3 and i'm always down for some fluff for dilfs so here we gooo 😤 (also omfg how cute is Franky in this picture)

🍓 random fluff hcs for Shanks & Rayleigh

Shanks

alone time? don't know her

being with Shanks means being with Shanks... literally

he'll always be by your side, whether you're raiding the kitchen for a midnight snack, taking a bath or have a hairdresser appointment

he got the golden retriever energy like "oh, you're getting up? guess i'm getting up to, where are we going? okay let's gooo"

Shanks sleeps sprawled out all over the bed and even though he misses a limb he still manages to claim the whole bed as his territory, waking up confused when you flip him out of it at night because you had enough

he's lucky that he's so hot and therefore easy forgiven when you lift up the covers for him to crawl into bed again

he'll hum with satisfaction when you nuzzle against his chest or the crook of his neck, kissing his bare skin and mumbling what a pain in the ass to share bed with he is

when there's free time, Shanks will take you out on the sweetest dates. flower picking (or strawberry picking when it's the season), open air cinema where he will smuggle in lots of candy for you in his hideous pants, walking some dogs from the animal shelter (and debating if you should just adopt them all on the spot...

Shanks won't shut up about you, like he just has to tell everyone how amazing you are and how lucky he is to call you his

he keeps a photo of you on him and will shove it in everyone's face ("do you have a minute to talk about my amazing lover and partner?" "Shanks. they are standing right next to you. they've been a crew member for years. we know." and he still keeps on rambling, his arm around your shoulders)

Shanks will leave little love letters everywhere. they will fall out of your shoes, are wrapped around your toothbrush or written on the mirror so you can read them after a steamy shower

he knows that he can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but he always makes it up with the sweetest kisses that sweep you off your feet, even after all these years...

Rayleigh

be aware that dating Rayleigh means that you're also half-dating Roger. don't question it, just lean back and enjoy it

Rayleigh is a bastion of calm in all respects, nothing can shake this man

except you and your heartfelt confession that one night, that made you both bawl and lead to you being a couple ever since

with a captain like Roger he has to be "The Responsible One"™ on the Oro Jackson, always looking out for everyone including you. he'll have a heart attack when he sees you dangling from the crow's nest, hanging on a thread but still laughing because what's the worst that could happen? you falling into the dark king's open arms? yeah.

be assured that he won't let you go for the rest of the day once you land safely in his outstretched arms

Rayleigh will leave his worn sweaters lying around for you because he knows you like to steal them and fall asleep snuggled up in them late at night, when he's not in bed with you yet (probably because he has to restrain Roger from turning your shared cabin into a pillow fort so everyone can sleep together. he's been a bit lonely since he has to share Rayleigh)

he'll be very careful not to wake you up once he finally slips under the covers to you, adoring your sleeping expression and the way you mumble his name in your sleep

Rayleigh will kiss your forehead and your temples when he pulls you to his chest, gently running his fingers through your hair until he too falls asleep, knowing that no dream will be as sweet as reality is with you in his arms

he will be carefully speaking about the idea of marriage, testing the waters if you're open to that and chuckle when you give him a raised eyebrow but also a big kiss, which he responds to by wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up, smiling brighter than the sun and whispering over and over again how much he adores you

with Rayleigh by your side you will never feel cold or lonely again, his devoted heart is all yours and you will never have any doubts about that

every kiss with him feels like the first one, giving you all the butterflies and silly smiles, the pondering hearts and the promise that this was forever

#shanks #silvers rayleigh #shanks x reader #rayleigh x reader #one piece x reader #dark king rayleigh #akagami no shanks #red haired shanks #red hair pirates #roger pirates #one piece headcanons #one piece strawhats #one piece fluff

[cupofmiko]

HELP — bakugou katsuki x f!reader 

five times Bakugou saves you. 

genre: strangers to lovers au, pro hero! katsuki | fluff, smut 

warnings: aged up characters, Bakugou’s characterization is a little rough around the edges bUT I TRIED MY BEST, Bakugou’s hero name is the hero name he picked in chapter 293 (according to Google) but a manga spoiler warning for that, Bakugou is a little mean but he’s also soft and i can’t tell if that’s out of character but oh well, silent pining, depictions of a villain attack, cell phones that work in underground tunnels idk how accurate that is but please don’t come for me on that one, Bakugou uses a pet name (sweetheart) because I thought sure why not, making out, smut at the end! SMUT: brief nipple play, cunnilingus, unprotected sex 

word count: 10k 

a/n: based on the prompt “I scraped my knee and now you’re fixing it up and I swear if you don’t stop running your hands over my leg I will kick you”

(1) 

It happens on a Thursday evening, where your once hopeful aspirations to finally clean through your apartment are dashed away by a cockroach that seems to have found a home on your kitchen counter. 

The sight of the winged creature with its six legs and antennas perched comfortably on the marble surface next to your sink elicits a scream from you as you drop your collection of cleaning equipment onto the floor. Your hands fly up to your face, shielding you as if that would be an effective method of blocking a bug away. Without checking to see the position of the cockroach, you dash away from the kitchen and down the hallway into your bedroom. 

Once you are a safe distance away, you resort yourself to huffing and puffing—attempting to calm yourself down after the onslaught of fight or flight has flooded your system. Cockroaches aren’t necessarily uncommon in your apartment building, but the absence of your roommate feels like you’ve been deprived of the extra support system needed to face a creature from your nightmares. 

“Okay, you can do this,” you grunt to yourself, clenching fists together and attempting to channel words of encouragement to yourself. “It’s just a bug. More scared of you than you are of it.” 

The words elicit a confidence inside of you that lasts about five seconds, because you walk back out into the kitchen with a swiffer in hand only to find that the cockroach is not on the counter like before. Instead, it has now latched itself onto the wall next to the kitchen. The new sight is startling and unexpected, causing you to yelp before you hurtle your swiffer straight into the wall. 

Your intention with your swiffer is unclear—most likely to try and smash the cockroach, but that does not go as planned. Your aim is off due to the anxiety of your fight or flight warnings, serving more as a warning shot for the cockroach. In response, it startles the bug, causing it to fly straight toward you. 

You scream, flinching away from the buzzing cockroach, all before you trip over the couch and fall onto the floor. “Ouch!” you crow, pushing yourself up with your hands, glaring at the cockroach who appears to have found a new home on your ceiling. Likely, it is laughing at your dumbassery, smelling your fear like fresh bread from the oven. 

From your position on the floor, you think that perhaps there is a more direct way to corner the cockroach and ensure its fate—maybe if you hit it with more force or entrapped it in something… 

You’re about to straighten up into a standing position before the front door to your apartment explodes, causing you to jump as you hastily get to your feet. You rush to the front of your apartment, swiffer still in hand, as you watch the hinges of your door blow out from the wall, before the door falls right at your feet. Your head snaps up towards the entrance of your apartment, wondering who the fuck would think to bombard your unit at the time like this. 

At the door frame stands a gruffed looking boy, likely around your age, with blonde hair whose appearance is not unlike the flames of a fire—all points and spikes. His piercing red eyes scan the interior space of your apartment, a fiery stare that is highlighted with the mask that dawns over his face. 

For a split second, the aura of your intruder makes your heart drop in your chest. Is this a villain? Perhaps his power is to communicate with cockroaches and he’s just trying to save his henchman? Or perhaps the connection goes deeper, and you are about to be in very serious trouble. 

Your eyes continue to stay wide, your feet continue to stay planted on the ground, as you watch the boy storm your apartment. His gaze fixes on you, eyes red and piercing as he scans through your living room space. Without a warning, he steps forward so he can stand between you and the rest of the apartment, bringing an arm up to shield you. It takes you a second to realize that this person is the complete opposite of a villain—he’s a hero. More than that, a top ten hero: the infamous Dynamight from UA. 

The process of information makes your cheeks run hot. What was a top ten hero doing in your trashy apartment along the edge of nowhere? 

He’s still watching your apartment, as if something is going to come out and attack. “Are they coming out from there?” he asks, barely sparing you a glance over his shoulder. His main attention seems to rest inside your apartment. Or, at least what he thinks is inside your apartment. 

So you blink. “I’m sorry?” you squeak out. Last time you checked, pro heroes did not come in to take care of bug problems. On top of that, you’re almost positive that you did not make any sort of call about the cockroach. 

He stares at you for a moment longer this time. “Aren’t you being attacked right now?” 

Your eyes widen. “I’m being attacked right now?” 

The boy straightens slightly, paling at how his briefly overprotective nature might not be necessary for this situation. “You mean you’re not? There are no villains in your apartment?” 

Your eyes flicker to the side for a moment, before returning back to Dynamight. “Not that I’m aware of?” 

He relaxes, but still looks vaguely embarrassed—especially considering he had come in thinking that you were undergoing a villain attack. But you don’t think his meekness should compare to your own complete humiliation, and it shows in how you can’t even look at the hero now standing before you. 

Dynamight must be used to citizens who cannot manage normal communication with him, because he somehow seems to find the situation interesting enough to continue a conversation. “You caused your downstairs neighbor a fright, you know.” 

You flash your teeth nervously, shifting your gaze back to Dynamight. “Really?” 

The boy stares at you, hands now resting at his side. After a moment of holding eye contact with you, he looks around your apartment, carefully shuffling about. “I heard you hit the wall and fall over something? What was that all about then?” 

You gaze down, pressing your lips together. For a moment, you debate just not saying anything about the cockroach. You wonder how much trouble you would get into claiming that you were actually attacked by villains and sending this hero on a false breadcrumb trail. 

However, the look in his eyes tells you that he already has a vague idea of what is happening. So you sigh and bring your thumb to your lip, biting nervously at the nail. “There’s a cockroach in here,” you relent, gesturing deeper into your apartment. 

With a nod from you, Dynamight steps towards the kitchen—where his gaze fixates on the wall before he lets out a hum. “Yep, there is it.” 

You open your mouth to say something, anything honestly, before his hand comes out and he catches the cockroach in between his fingers. 

He gazes back at you. “You got a balcony or something?” he inquires lowly. 

You nod hastily, gesturing towards the sliding door that leads onto the outside extension of your apartment. Dynamight follows you outside, where he holds his hand out and lets go of the cockroach, watching carefully as it flies away. He handles the creature with a startlingly amount of care—especially considering that Dynamight isn’t known for having the most outwardly enthusiastic personality. Bakugou Katsuki, that’s his name. 

He looks over at you, and you look away. 

“This is really embarrassing,” you grumble without warning, having not prepared to make small talk with a pro hero. Especially Bakugou Katsuki, whose piercing gaze frightens you slightly and makes you feel like he already knows more about you than you know about yourself. 

Luckily, Bakugou must be used to these kinds of interactions—a byproduct of the job. “You got scared from a cockroach, that’s pretty normal. Although I will say that this is the first time I thought villains had overrun your apartment just based on the noise from inside. Anything else going on in here that’ll make me think you’re getting murdered or something?” 

You glance at him, noticing that he’s still staring at you. Had you not known any better, and you’d think he’s trying to crack a joke with you. At the very least, he does not look too annoyed. Above his already constant expression of vague irritation. At his curious glance, you try for a weak smile. “None that I can think of at the moment.” 

At that, he looks away. “Well, if something comes up I’m sure I’ll hear about it from your neighbor.” 

Your body warms up in embarrassment at his words. “She just worries easily. Feel free to ignore her for future reference if you don’t want to see me make a fool of myself again. I won’t say anything that’ll tarish your hero reputation.” 

Bakugou shrugs. “It’s been through a lot already.” 

As the boy leaves for the night, you realize that he never addressed your proposal to ignore your neighbor when it came to you—which is something you mentioned just in case Bakugou did not want to deal with any ridiculous situation you created. But you brush the thought away as soon as it appears. Perhaps he just did not hear you, or did not take you seriously. After all, why would this pro hero want to see you again? 

(2) 

About a week later, your roommate comes home from work with bags of raw ingredients from some street market and a strange desire to cook dinner. It’s strange because you and Karly are more familiar with the udon restaurant on the corner of your street than with your own kitchen, but her enthusiasm is enough to make you forget the fact that neither of you know how to operate the toaster-oven on the counter. 

“Shit, I told you this would be a bad idea!” you crow about twenty minutes later, having just pushed a chair underneath the smoke detector and currently trying to fan smoke away from the machine. A few feet away is the toaster-oven, with smoke curling out and around the appliance signalling that the homemade pizza Karly wanted to make has officially burned through. 

“How was I supposed to know that broiling something makes the oven go hotter than just setting a temperature?” Karly retorts back, pouting as she turns off the toaster-oven in an attempt to slow the smoke that’s pouring out. It’s a little late though—the smell of burnt pizza wafts through the air and the smoke feels like film has just been placed over your eyes. All the sights around you feel like the saturation has gone down slightly. 

Up ahead, Karly has rushed into the living room to start opening up some windows, where you can only hope that the cool spring breeze will help diffuse the light. For now, it seems like the biggest problem is just getting your damn smoke alarm to turn off, as to not disturb the neighbors more than you already have—! 

The pounding on your front door makes you momentarily think that your neighbors have likely been disturbed far too much already, but it’s a thought that heights in both curiosity and fear when the door actually bursts open, hitting the wall behind it. A vaguely familiar voice, deep and friendly, echoes through the hallway and into the kitchen where you’re located. “Everything okay in here?” 

“Yes, I’m so sorry!” Karly responds, emerging from the living room and making her way down the hallway first in order to address the newest arrivals. Heroes, perhaps, judging from Karly’s compliance to conversation. “It’s just something burning in the kitchen…” 

At that, there’s a series of footsteps that creep down the hallway into the kitchen, before you’re met with two heroes you did not think you’d ever see in your shitty apartment—and for one hero, it’s someone you never thought you’d see again. 

From the chair, you glance over to see Red Riot and Dynamight, and a small team behind them standing at the entrance of your kitchen. Of the two heroes that you can recall straightaway, one looks vaguely surprised and the other looks entirely unamused. 

Still, you manage a full teeth grin. “Hi there,” you greet, trying to sound as casual as possible despite the fact that you’re standing on a chair in the middle of the kitchen with a giant fan in hand. You turn to Bakugou. “Nice to see you again,” you exclaim, maintaining a broad and very uncomfortable grin. “I see that you’ve brought along a whole crew this time.” 

Bakugou continues to gaze at you with his unamused expression. “I had a vague idea of what to expect, and somehow it was everything and nothing at the same time. I even brought a team with me in the unlikely chance that your neighbor’s call was actually serious.” 

You stare at him from your place atop the chair. “Does this not look serious?” 

He scans the kitchen for a moment, before he spots the toaster-oven—smoke still pouring out and all. He sighs. “You do realize that whatever is in there is still burning right?” 

You glance over at the oven, turning back to look at the heroes before you. “I-Isn’t that what you’re all here for?” You turn to look at Red Riot, the red-haired hero with a hardened arm extended out. He seems to relax when he realizes the situation isn’t calling for any sort of defense attacks. “Nice to meet you.” 

Kirishima smiles at you. “N-Nice to meet you too,” he stammers. “I didn’t know you knew Dynamight.” 

Without a warning, Bakugou hits his friend on the shoulders. Hard. “Stop flirting,” he barks with enough venom to surprise you. “You’re here to work.” 

Kirishima pouts. “Dude, what’s your problem?” At Bakugou’s hard look, he relents. “Okay, fine. I’ll clear out the oven.” He hardens his hands, probably to make sure they don’t get burned as he handles the burning pizza in the oven. A few of the other heroes from the group join him. 

You stare at Bakugou as he instructs the heroes he brought along to various tasks: open all the windows, try to bring the toaster-oven out onto the balcony to help diffuse the smoke, and clear out the smoke from within the apartment as thoroughly as possible. He takes command of the situation with such practiced ease that you cannot help but stare. But you make sure to stay rooted to your chair—given that his snappy attitude fills you with a vague sense of worry. Would he scold you the same way he scolded his friend? He didn’t do any of the sort during his last visit, but it seems like he has put in more effort to come to your rescue this time. 

Your eyes widen when you notice that Bakugou is already staring at you, feeling yourself shrink in slightly. It’s an emotion that heightens further when he makes his way towards you, until he’s standing directly in front of you. 

Without a warning, he reaches his hand up towards you. “Get down from there,” he remarks, voice softer than before. “Standing on the chair could be dangerous.” 

You gaze at his outstretched hand, tentatively reaching over to grip it. His hand is softer than you expected, which is surprising considering that you imagined his quirk would have created calluses and burns along his fingers and palms. But it’s nothing like what you have imagined. 

Not that you’ve thought about Bakugou’s hands. Not a lot, that is. 

Carefully, Bakugou helps you back onto ground level. “You okay?” he asks. “I didn’t think you’d attract the energy of burning down your apartment. Did a cockroach come out again and distract you from your pizza?” 

Your insides feel hot at his remark. One look at his expression and it is almost like he’s trying to tease you. You would be more embarrassed had you not realized that he actually remembers his last encounter with you, which immediately brings you back to thoughts about the cockroach. 

“No!” you protest hotly. “My dumb roommate and I just don’t know how to use a toaster-oven.” You pause at that, deflating slightly at what you’ve just said. Curse your stupid mouth that doesn’t know how to shut up in the presence of someone who seems to command so much attention. “T-That actually makes me sound worse, doesn’t it?” 

At that, Bakugou’s lips twist up into the tiniest of smiles. “Cool. So you’re afraid of bugs and you’re also incompetent in the kitchen.” 

You twist your fingers around each other. “Kind of makes you regret coming all this way with all these different heroes, doesn’t it?” 

He still has that tiny smile on his face as he gazes at you. “Not really.” He looks away. “Actually, most of these heroes are under my agency, so I know for a fact that they have nowhere else to be. But it is stupid to be scared of shitty things like bugs, and even stupider to not know how to operate a oven—so I’d get to work on understanding that right away.” 

You snort. “Oh, and you’re supposed to be an expert in the kitchen?” 

Bakugou maintains his intense gaze on yours. “Is that a challenge?” 

You’re about to say something, but a clear of the throat near the entranceway startles you out of the bubble you and Bakugou have created. At first, you notice Karly with her bewildered and suspicious expression, before you notice Red Riot next to her. He actually looks vaguely guilty for interrupting your conversation, but he speaks up when you notice his presence. “We cleared out the oven. The smoke should be gone within the next couple of hours if you leave everything open.” 

You step away from Bakugou, managing a tiny nod. “Sure. Thank you for coming. You really saved our kitchen.” 

Red Riot flashes you a thumbs up. “That’s what we’re here for. Ready to get going, Dynamight?” 

“In a minute,” Bakugou returns, strangely enough having resumed his harsh tone with his teammate. It’s a tone that softens slightly when he turns to look back at you. “I better not get another phone call about a bug problem or a kitchen problem.”  

Your lips part in surprise. “That’s very specific.” 

He stares at you for a moment longer, before looking away. “Room for improvement, I suppose.” 

With that, he leaves with his team and his agency—leaving behind an apartment that is significantly more clear than it had been when they first arrived, but strangely leaving your head more cloudy than before. 

Karly seems to be more on top of your behavior than you are, because she practically barrels you down with wide-eyes and a question that you would never dare admit is on your mind as well: what the fuck was that? 

(3) 

Springtime in the city means longer days and shorter nights, nice breezes and comfortable sunlight, and spending every possible moment outside amongst other people or bustling cafes along the street or shopping districts just a few subway stops away. For you and Karly, springtime means attending university and extra curricular activities during the day, and going outside to explore neighboring cities during the afternoon. 

Having to spend time outside is more of a requirement than an optional choice after Karly volunteers the pair of you to watch the neighbor’s overactive puppy for a week—forcing you both out to the local park to play fetch or run around. 

Or, climb a tree in order to grab the tennis ball you accidentally threw too far and too high—which is what you’re doing right now. 

“Holy shit, this is higher than I thought!” you call out, once you pass what you believe to be the halfway mark of the tree trunk. The tennis ball looks so much further out of your reach than it did when you were on ground level, the realization starts to dawn upon you that perhaps this hadn’t been the best approach. 

“Alright, okay, you should get down from there!” Karly calls, having to cup both hands over her mouth to project her voice. “You’re not a professional tree climber, you dumb bitch!” 

You snap your head back towards the ground, but immediately regret it when you notice just how far away the ground is from your feet. A fall from this height would definitely cause some kind of injury. “Okay, okay, fine!” you shout back, having to raise your voice just to be heard since you cannot use your hands to help carry your voice. “I’m coming down… shit!” Your voice raises in a panic when your foot misses the branch you needed to start your climb. Your body slips slightly, and you have to wrap your arms around the tree trunk just to make sure you wouldn’t climb and fall. “Oh fuck!” 

“Are you okay?” Karly asks sharply. A quick glance over your shoulder shows that your roommate has already reattached the leash to the dog’s collar, and is currently staring up at you with eyes the size of saucers. “You look stuck. Hold on, let me call someone.” 

“A hero?” you ask, immediately feeling your heart drop at that idea. “Listen, Karly, that’s not necessary!” you protest loudly, looking down at your feet with the best of your ability in order to locate a branch you could step down on. Due to a fear of judgment, having a hero come down just to save you from a tree much like someone would with a cat or equally as mischievous and small creature would just be downright embarrassing. “I would literally rather slide down this trunk than have a hero come down to help me.” 

“Are you sure?” Karly returns, pocketing her phone and looking back up at you. “Because I just called Dynamight.” 

The mention of Bakugou’s hero name makes your heart drop in your chest, because of all the heroes that could be showing up it just had to be the one who has seen you through a surplus of different embarrassing situations. 

You make sure to bring awareness to your feelings with a shriek of your roommate’s name. “Karly! What made Dynamight decide to come over here? Why didn’t you call someone else?” 

Karly is quiet for a moment, before she responds to your accusations. “He gave me his hero card!” she returns, and you know that the smile in her voice is not just from your imagination. 

You’re appalled, not just over Bakugou’s actions but the fact that Karly did not tell you about this earlier. For a moment, you’re quiet as you mule over her words. Bakugou gave your roommate his hero card and not you? You scoff at the thought—not that that matters anyways. It’s not like you and Bakugou are friends, because you most definitely do not want to see him right now. Especially when you look like this: clinging to a tree for dear life because you tried to get a damn tennis ball. 

“Oh no!” you whine instead, tightening your grip on the trunk as your cheek presses against the hard bark. “Just because he gave you his hero card doesn’t mean you actually had to call him! Now he’s going to show up and see me like this and I’m never going to hear the end of this—!” 

“You know, now I’m starting to think that you like getting into trouble.” 

You sigh, pouting as you risk a quick glance over your shoulder to see (surprise surprise) Bakugou standing at the foot of the tree. His hands are on his hips, and he’s gazing up at you. He raises an eyebrow when your eyes meet. 

Hastily, you turn your neck back so you face the tree. “What are you doing here?” you ask. 

“A little birdie you live with told me that you were having some trouble. And so naturally, I’m here to get you out of your mess,” he returns, sounding so straightforward, adapting a tone that implies that of course he would be here. But you dismiss it with a shake of your head. 

“You didn’t have to come,” you reply. “I-I’m doing better!” Your words are further emphasized when you try to reach for a branch beneath you, and miss again.” 

Bakugou raises an eyebrow. “Sure you are.” There’s a pause, before he sighs. “Alright, c’mon, just admit that you need help. I can help make sure you don’t break every bone in your legs, which will save trouble for all of us.” 

You struggle for a few more seconds, trying to at least get your footing on a branch or a piece of bark to stabilize yourself. It does not work, leaving you to literally hang from the tree. You huff. “Fine, okay yes, I need help.” 

“That’s more like it.” You do your best to ignore the smile in Bakugou’s voice. You hear a few steps come closer to you. “What you need to do is really easy. Just let go.” 

You gap openly, looking over your shoulder again to look at Bakugou. You hope he can see how crazy you think he is for such an absurd request. “Are you kidding?” you snap. “Do you want me to break all the bones in my body?” 

“Yes, I do, even though I literally just advised against that a few seconds ago,” he says dryly. “But try to push your body away from the tree just to avoid any further scratching.” 

You squeeze your eyes tightly together for a moment. “Dynamight, it’s not that I don’t trust you but I just—!” 

“Then do it.” 

You open your eyes. “What?” 

Bakugou is quiet for a moment. “Trust me,” he utters. “Trust that I’ve saved people in much worse situations than this, and that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” 

His voice is strangely steady, very different from the tone he’s adapted when he’s making fun of you. It makes you feel protected over—like he knows which situations require a more comforting tone. 

So you readjust yourself, deciding to put your trust in Bakugou once more despite the more dangerous situation you were about to embark on. “Okay, okay, I’m going to let you. You got a good view of me?” 

“Yes,” he answers immediately. “I got you. Just let go.” 

You take another second, praying to something (anything) before you let go. You fall backwards, momentarily feeling the wind pass all around you, until you fall into a sturdy surface. One eye peeling open and you see Bakugou’s piercing red eyes and broad shoulders—you feel his arms curled around you. Something about feeling his body warmth matched with the fact he actually caught you fills you with a brief rush of butterflies in your heart. 

“Uh…” you stammer, not sure where to put your hands so you rest them on your stomach. “Thank you.” 

Bakugou looks back at you, gaze flickering across your face. “Your face,” he replies. 

You blink. “Sorry?” 

“You have scratches everywhere,” he explains, slowly kneeling to rest you on the grass. He turns to Karly, who has been watching the pair of you with wide eyes: half curious and half mischievous. “Can you grab the first aid kit next to you?” After the kit gets handed to him, Bakugou opens and starts fiddling with the various components within. He settles with taking out a q-tip, some medicine, and some band aids before he gets to work. “This might sting,” he whispers, getting all close to you and you can only hope that he can’t hear your heart racing. 

True to his word, the moment he applies some medicine along your cheek, a sharp pain radiates from the cut. You hiss, flinching, and Bakugou gently tightens his hold on your face. 

“Sorry,” he grumbles, brushing his thumb along your unscratched cheek and you feel like your soul has just departed from your body. He puts medicine all over your face, but only has to put band aids on certain scratches along your legs. 

As soon as he gets the last band aid on, he leans back.

“Anywhere else hurt?” he asks. 

You think about it for a second, before you shake your head. “Thanks for coming,” you mutter, finally stealing a long and hard glance at him. Unlike previous encounters with Dynamight, he’s wearing civilian clothes: a t-shirt and black jeans. The absence of the black mask allows you to see his bright red eyes in all its glory, making you realize that it is much more intimidating than before. “It’s embarrassing to know that you can add this moment to the list of horrible encounters we’ve had.” 

He shrugs. “I was in the neighborhood.” He starts to collect the first aid kit items, putting them back into its case. “And when your friend called, she sounded a little shaken up. What were you climbing the tree for anyways.” 

You sigh. “We’re dogsitting for our neighbor, and his tennis ball is in the tree.” 

Bakugou follows your pointing finger up into the leaves, before he laughs. “I see it. Wait right here.” He gets up, easily scaling the tree and locating the ball with almost an insulting amount of precision. He hopes down, rolling onto the floor, and handing the item back to you. 

“Show off,” you grumble under your breath. “I-I’m a little surprised that you came,” you say after a second. “We’re not around your agency, but Karly had mentioned you gave her your hero card?” 

“Oh, right.” He looks away, scratching the back of his neck. “You know, just in case.” 

“Were you heading into work then?” you guess. “This doesn’t look like your hero costume. Unless you got downgraded because you were helping unnecessary cases. Like myself.” 

He scoffs, huffing slightly as he continues to stare out at some far point behind you. “Ha ha, very funny.” 

“I mean, it’s not like I don’t appreciate the help—I really do,” you say, holding out a hand and trying to backpedal. How do you say that you think Bakugou is an enjoyable force without overstepping any civilian slash hero boundaries that he might want to keep intact? “It’s just…” 

“Just what?” 

“W-Well,” you stammer. “If I’m pulling you away from actual important cases, then I think you should focus on those.” 

Bakugou finally looks back at you. “Bold of you to assume that.” 

You blink. “Assume what?” 

He presses his lips together, like he’s trying to stop himself from saying something he might regret. “That this isn’t an important case.” 

“Are you trying to say that it is?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows together. “Because if killing cockroaches and clearing smoke from an apartment is the new age of heroes, then I think your whole job might be at stake…” 

“No,” he interrupts, gritting his teeth together. “It’s an important case because I like spending time with you.” 

Your eyes widen, heart pounding faster, because did this type of encounter just happen with normal people? Or were you living in a stimulation? “Huh?” 

He runs a hand through his hair. “Jesus, when I told my friends you were an idiot, I underestimated just how much of an idiot you are.” He lowers his hand. “I like spending time with you, because I like you. I think you’re fun and interesting, and thinking about you always makes me smile.” 

You take in a breath. “You like me,” you exhale. 

He nods. “Well, no shit. You think I’m out here in the park during my off-duty day just for the shit of it? You think I give your roommate my hero card, a card that has my personal phone number on it, because I like teasing you? Okay, yes, I do like teasing you. But I like teasing you because I like you.” 

Out of all the things that Bakugou just said to you, your mind only seems to hyperfocus on one thing. “You’re off-duty today?” 

He nods. 

“So, you just came down here because you wanted to see me?” 

He nods again, slower this time, more hesitant, and eyes never leaving yours as if he needs to constantly gauge your reaction. “Does that freak you out?” 

You gaze back at him, vaguely surprised at how nervous he looks over his question. “Well,” you start softly. “I freak out every time you show up at my apartment, or when I knew you were showing up here—but not because I hate you. Quite the opposite, actually.” 

Your words click in Bakugou’s mind, and he flashes you a rare smile. 

“Uh,” Karly interrupts from behind the pair of you—her eyes glowing with a hunger for information. But she does well in keeping herself composed. “Would you mind handing me the ball?” 

(4) 

It’s two o’clock in the morning when you click your pen and realize how late it is getting. With a sigh, you pull away from your notebooks and laptop for a moment to see the mess you’ve currently gotten yourself into. With university assignments piling up, it has dramatically increased your workload while simultaneously decreasing your motivation—and as a result, has left you feeling relatively dry and exhausted. 

Your gaze flickers between your current array of notes and the to-do list on your laptop, realizing that you still have a few major parts of an assignment that still need to be written out if you want to stay on top of the already tight schedule you’ve put together before submission. 

A few more minutes pass, before you resort yourself to a cup of coffee if only to keep you awake for another hour or so. So you straighten up, quietly padding down the quiet hallway connecting your line of bedrooms and bathrooms into the kitchen. You make sure Karly’s bedroom door is closed firmly before switching on the kitchen lights. You’re about to set up the mug and flavor of your coffee, before there is a knock at your door. 

You freeze, naturally frightened at the sound. Initially, your first thought is to not answer given the late time, the possibility of a villain, and just the general fact that you are not prepared for any type of coherent conversation with anyone. The second thought is a vague assumption that perhaps the knocker is a lost stranger, or even a drunk neighbor. The latter would not be so uncommon, and those types of visitors typically leave after a few minutes. You’re about to return back to your bedroom, steaming hot cup of coffee be damned, but the knocking continues. 

Perhaps you’ll need to verbally tell the drunk neighbor that they are at the wrong unit. 

So you head towards the door, but not before grabbing a knife from the rack. 

Once you reach your door, you lift up the paper covering the peep hole to get a look at the stranger. Immediately, you jerk away, heart race speeding up and leaving you much more awake than you had been a few seconds prior—because what the fuck was Bakugou Katsuki doing here so early in the morning?

Your relationship with Bakugou has generally plateaued ever since the events at the park. Not necessarily because anything occurred, but more of the opposite. Neither of you have had the time to reach out and have a conversation about what occurred then, so seeing him is a rather unexpected reminder. 

Or—your hand wavers over the knob. Perhaps this was a real villain attack? You aren’t very well versed in the quirks of villains, but could it be possible someone had a physical appearance manipulation quirk?

Your mind is running a mile a minute, until you force the thought to the backburner. Why would a villain be after you at a time like this? 

But still, you decide to be cautious. You keep the knife in your hand, and keep one of the stoppers attached to your door just in case. After all, regardless of if this is a real Bakugou Katsuki or not, something tells you that he is going to stay outside of your apartment until he gets your attention. 

You open the door, pulling it until the lock stops it from going any further. “Dynamight?” you ask cautiously. “Is that you?” 

Bakugou, who had been looking vaguely troubled through the peephole, morphs his expression into one of confusion. “Hah?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Who else would it be, dummy?” But his expression softens after a moment, seeming to realize the direction you’re taking. “It’s me, idiot. And I’m here off-duty—so you can call me Bakugo.” 

Having only imagined such an interaction with him, you warm slightly at the thought. But he looks surprisingly insistent, so you try for a smile. “Alright… Bakugou,” you say after a moment, waiting for him to change his mind. But he doesn’t, so you shut the door for a moment to remove the lock before reopening the door for him. “What are you doing here?” 

“Yeah, it’s just…” he gruffs out, scratching the back of his neck before he looks at you. He frowns at once, becoming distracted from his original thought. “Are you okay?” 

You’re momentarily taken aback by the question. Partly because it looked as if he wanted to ask a question of his own, but also because you did not think you looked as if you were not okay. So you decide to return his question with one of your own. “What do you mean?” 

“Nothing, it’s just.” He gestures to all of you. “You look like you’re using your head too much… or something silly like that.” He adds the last part haphazardly, as if afraid to overstep his boundaries. 

But you can’t help but laugh. “Well, you wouldn’t be wrong,” you admit softly, scratching the back of your neck. Your fingers need something to do, so you settle with combing your fingers through your hair. “I’m sort of in the middle of trying to finish up some work.” 

“Finish up work?” Bakugou echoes, raising an eyebrow. “But it’s so late.” 

You smile slightly, nodding in agreement to his observation. “These deadlines don’t change for anyone.” 

Bakugou huffs in return. “That’s rough. Is that why you’re out here? Just trying to stay awake?” 

You nod, trying to hide a yawn by cupping your mouth with your hand—although you’re not sure how effective your method had been. “I was just about to make myself another cup of coffee.” 

“Another?” he returns, looking vaguely pained at how much you’re overworking yourself for a deadline. 

“Yeah,” you manage, trying to sound upbeat. But truthfully you are exhausted. Your eyes feel like weights and your body almost feels like it is detached from the rest of your body. “It’s no biggie though. Just a few more days of this before all my assignments and research projects will be submitted!” You eye Bakugou’s troubled expression, and a part of you suddenly feels guilty for dumping this information onto him. “I-I mean,” you stammer. “You know what that’s like right? Having so many deadlines you aren’t sure if you can escape from it…” 

He looks at you. “Oh yeah, definitely,” he says after a moment. He pauses, staring at you long enough to make you avert your gaze. As soon as you look away, he grabs your wrist. “I think I can help with that.” 

Your eyes immediately zero in on his hands around your arm. For such strong words, his voice is surprisingly soft and comforting. Like he knows exactly what is going on in your bustling mind. “W-What?” 

He takes a brave step closer. “If you want, I can show you what I do when I need a second to get away from my deadlines. No pressure though.” 

You look over at him, trying for a laugh. But it sounds more like a laugh of disbelief. “A-Are you sure? It seemed like you were coming over here for a different reason.” 

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.” 

You do worry about it. But you don’t say anything to Bakugou. Rather, you allow yourself to stare at him for a few more seconds, wondering if it’s worth mentioning how just his presence is enough of an escape, but you decide that there will be a different time to say something. A better time. 

So you nod, heart beating a little faster when he flashes you one of those rare soft smiles, before the look goes away as quickly as it had appeared. Without another word, you grab your keys and let him lead you out of your apartment. 

(5) 

Ever since you started working in the city, you’ve always had a sinking feeling in your stomach that something like this would happen eventually. At this point, it is just a natural byproduct of living in a society overrun by super powered individuals. In most of your experience, your encounters with aforementioned super-powered individuals have been positive (some more than others), but you’ve yet to ever experience those villain attacks that Bakugou always looked so nervous about. 

But it seems like today is the day you come to understand why—when a villain attacks the subway line and cart you’re taking to work. 

It occurs quickly: one second, you’re standing near the door with your fingers curled into the bar over your head, eyes glued to your phone and feet drumming nervously on the floor underneath. Then, the next second, a bomb sets off in the front cart, creating a hole in the metal and shaking the entire line of carts that fall after it. 

The movement shakes you and everyone, throwing you against the door behind you as the screams echo in your ear. The suddenness of the events surprises you and fills your mind with fear and adrenaline—because you really did not expect a villain attack on a typical Thursday morning. Especially in an underground subway of all places. 

The force of the explosion drives the subway off the track at full speed, rocking the carts with such force that you fall onto the ground. The cries of those around you increase in volume as the metro crashes into the wall, before the brick and cement come crashing down around. 

A few seconds later, and the lights inside the subways flicker off, engulfing everyone in the darkness of the underground. The screams and worried shrieks heighten in volume as your own heart beat increases and a sickness settles in your stomach. Nevermind the fact that this tunnel extends for miles underground, and the integrity of the tunnel is starting to become compromised due to the attack—so much so that even stepping outside of the subway could be risky. 

Then, an array of lantern lights blast on, bathing the entire underground in a hollow yellow color. You barely are able to get ahold of your new surroundings before the group of villains speaking outside of the subway cart, likely to a video camera. You can only assume that the camera feed is being broadcasted to the city—along with the heroes that protect it. The villains seem semi-experienced, claiming that they’ve captured a group of hostages and cut off the main subway line into the city, and it will stay this way until their demands are met. 

First impression aside, it’s not the most terrifying set up. You’ve seen clips of attacks that feature villains that will attack civilians right out of the gate. At least here, from your position on the floor of this subway cart, catching glances of the pacing villains right through the windows, you are safe. 

In your backpack, your phone vibrates and you jump to answer it. Surprisingly, you have a signal—but your bar is low. The contact information displays the one person you most definitely want to talk to right now. 

You answer it, pressing the device against your ear as you continue to watch the villains. 

You don’t need to get a word in, because he speaks first. “Please tell me you’re not on that subway.” On the other side of the line, Bakugou’s voice is low with thinly veiled confusion and anger. 

You try for a smile, but your heart is pounding. “I’d be lying then,” you whisper back. 

Bakugou curses on the other side of the line. “Fuck—okay. Are you okay at least?” 

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, continuing to watch the villains pace. They’ve just made another announcement—if their demands are not met, they are going to start picking on the civilians taken hostage. “Katsuki,” you manage, ignoring the fact that you’re using his first name when the pair of you have never discussed doing that in the first place. “I’m a little scared.” 

He exhales. “Stay on the line,” he orders. “Breath for me, whisper to me—just don’t hang up, so I can hear your voice.” He pauses, likely listening to something going on around him. “A bunch of pro heroes have gathered and we’re heading out towards the subway tunnel. It’s going to be okay.” 

“How can you be so sure?” you challenge softly. 

Bakugou barely even thinks about his answer. “It needs to be,” he replies. “I need to take you out on a date, like how I wanted to that first night I showed up at your apartment.” He pauses. “Do you remember that night?” 

“You mean the night you showed up at two in the morning?” you ask, unable to help but smile to yourself at the memory. He had taken you to a local convenience store, determined to distract you from the load of assignments you had been drowning in. “Is that why you came by? To ask me out?” 

“Of course,” he replies, suddenly sounding like he’s moving quickly through the city. “I told you I liked you that afternoon, didn’t I?”  

You huff softly, watching the villains discuss something amongst each other. “I would have thought hanging out with me when my sanity was hanging by a thread would have scared you off.” 

He laughs roughly. “I’ve heard you lose your shit at a bug, and I’ve witnessed you almost burning your apartment over some pizza. If I was going to be scared off, it would have happened a long time ago.” 

You press your lips together, making sure not to laugh too loud for fear of the villain overhearing you. “I’m glad to hear that.” 

It’s quiet on the other side of the line for a brief moment, where it feels like Bakugou has stopped moving. “You still okay?” he asks. 

You nod, speaking when you remember he cannot see you. “Yes.” 

“Not near the villains?” 

You glance outside of the cracked window of the subway. “Not yet. But they’re talking.” 

He reassures you immediately. “Good.” 

Suddenly, a rumble echoes through the subway tunnel, far enough away where the explosion won’t bury any of you underneath the brick, but still loud enough to be heard by yourself and the villains. 

Everything happens in a blur—one moment, the villains are walking towards the source of the noise, and the next, they’re being knocked down by a hero of green. Movement happens all around you, in the heroes that quickly apprehend the villains, and the heroes that navigate swiftly through the broken down subway to ensure the safety of those trapped in it. 

You’re about to sit up, gauge your personal qualms with any potential injuries or anything else out of place, before a figure kneels in front of you. You briefly catch a glimpse of the green, orange, and black of the costume, before a set of hands cup your cheek. Your gaze then rests on a set of familiar red eyes, imploring your own with a heightened amount of worry swimming behind it. 

Once you realize who is in front of you, you scramble about immediately. “Katsuki!” you exclaim, gripping his arms with your hand. “You came so quickly!” 

He scoffs, and everything about him feels so real and stable that you cannot help but let out a sigh of relief as you hug him before your mind can decide otherwise. 

If you’ve overstepped boundaries with Bakugou, he does not let you know. Instead, he pulls you in tighter, resting his chin on your shoulder. “‘Course I did,” he mumbles. “I have a date, after all.” 

Bakugou takes you out on a date a week after the subway incident, insisting that you recover from injuries—despite the fact that you didn’t have many injuries to begin with, perhaps just a sore back from when you were thrown against the door during the explosion. Still, he insists, and texts you everyday just to stay on top of your condition. 

He shows up at your apartment on a Friday night, jeans and a t-shirt and looking cute enough to make your heart race. Considering that Bakugou needed you in tip-top condition in order to go on this date with you, you honestly have no idea what to expect. 

It’s a curiosity you express to him as you let him into your apartment, saying that you need to grab your jacket before heading out. He follows you inside, doing a relatively good job at keeping his cool when asked what his plans were for the evening. The straightness of his expression makes you think that he’s going to surprise you with some extreme adventure that was going to send you on a frightening tirad—just to fuck with you. 

But, even more surprisingly, he takes you to a carnival a few cities down. It’s a place less flashy than the Tokyo city lights, making Bakugou less of a celebrity target as the pair of you make the rounds through the various food venders and “shitty booth games”, as Bakugou calls it. But he still makes it his mission to win you a frog pillow. 

The night is pleasant—not that you had any doubts of it being anything but. You and Bakugou get along well, and he’s much more soft-spoken than you would have given him credit for. After all, the first initial encounters with him always resulted in a whole lot of disciplining and shit-talking. 

It’s a sentiment you reflect to him as the pair of you are in line for the ferris wheel, and it’s a comment that makes him snort. “What do you mean?” he asks. “I’m so fucking pleasant all the fucking time!” 

You laugh, obviously noticing the nervous side-eyes that the couple in front of you is giving Bakugou. “So all those comments about me being a terrible chef and how I need to grow a spine are all you being pleasant?” 

He looks at you this time, reflecting a look that reads a degree higher than being pleasant. “Sweetheart,” he says, voice lower. “You’ll know when I’m trying not to be pleasant.” 

Despite the threatening words, it certainly doesn’t feel threatening. Not in the way one might expect. Rather, it’s a statement that travels right into your body: through your heart and into your stomach. 

Before you can reply (because really, what can you say to that), it’s your turn to board the cart. 

The rest of the night goes pleasantly well, all culminating in the last stretch between the elevator and your apartment unit. Once you reach the door, you turn to face Bakugou, where he has both of his hands in his pockets and he’s staring at you with an odd softness. “I had a good time,” you say with a smile. 

He smiles back. “Can I trust that you won’t get into any more trouble before I can take you out again?” 

You pout. “It’s not like I’m looking for trouble!” 

He hums, stepping closer to you. “That’s a shame. It almost makes me worry about you all the time.” 

You level your gaze with his. “What do I have to do to get you to stop worrying all the time?” 

“Not sure,” he explains, taking his hands out of his pockets and reaching over to hold your hands with his own. “But it makes me not want to leave you—and the feeling scares me a little.” 

You tighten your hold on his hands. “We can start somewhere with that. Want to come inside?” With a nod, you guide him inside, not ignoring how he’s still trying to hold at least one of your hands. You turn to face him once you’re both standing inside. 

Without a warning, Bakugou leans forward and pecks you on the lips. 

You pull back in shock at his sudden action. “What was that for?” 

“Sorry.” He turns red for a moment. “Standing here just makes me remember that I wanted to kiss you last time I was here.” 

You watch his embarrassment, feeling oddly endeared by the behavior, before you do something you’ve also wanted to do the last time Bakugou was here. You kiss him back. 

He takes that as a sign that you’re okay with kissing him, because he rests a hand on your waist. His hold is form to keep you in place as he presses deeper, thoroughly exploring your mouth with his tongue and eliciting butterflies in your stomach. 

He pulls away for a moment to nipple at your ear. “Is your roommate home?” he asks hotly. 

You exhale heavily. “Karly?” you whisper. “You know, you should really know her name after you gave her your hero card instead of me.” 

You jump, whimpering slightly when he bites too hard. “Aw, sorry sweetheart,” he coos, his previous embarrassment fading away when he realizes that he hasn’t read too far between the lines in regard to you. “Let me make that up to you then.” 

After a confirmation that Karly is not home, he kisses you again, walking through your apartment like he knows the place. Considering the fact he’s been here more times than you care to admit, you allow him to walk you backwards until you reach the living room and both of you fall atop the couch cushions. Following a brief attempt at readjustments, he dusts kisses past your lips, down your jawline, tugging down the strap of your tank top and bra to kiss at your breast, tug at your nipple with his teeth. Your body flinches, hips canting up because was this really happening? Was Bakugou Katsuki really in your apartment and kissing you the way you’ve dreamt of being kissed by him for weeks? 

He continues down your body until he reaches the hem of your skirt at your thighs, lifting your legs up to tug your underwear off your legs and onto the floor next to you. You, haphazard pushed clothing, are unable to rummage through the fog building up in your brain quick enough before Bakugou is tugging your folds apart with his thumbs in order to lick. You gasp, one hand gripping into the cushions and the other holding onto his hair. “Katsuki,” you whine, because it all feels so hot and so good.

He hums, and the vibration echoes through you, making you curse as you arch your back. “Just trying to get you wet, sweetheart.” 

It works, because it only takes a few more seconds of his ministration before he’s pushing himself back up to be eye level with you. His lips are glistening with you, and the sight makes your body warm. “Is this okay?” he whispers, lowering himself down to press his forehead against yours. 

You nod, already moving to try and fiddle with his pants. “More than okay.” 

Bakugou barely gets his pants off before he’s lining him up and sliding into you. He keeps going until he reaches the hilt, and you swear that you’ve transcended into another dimension. Your mind is trying to swim through the current that Bakugou has created for you. 

When you give him the okay to move, he starts rocking into you, trying to help you get used to the sensation of him. 

You whimper with every movement he makes against you, both arms and face pressed into his neck. “K-Keep going!” you squeal, hooking your legs together at the small of his back to edge him along. “Mm, hnng, fuck, m’—FUCK!” A gasp sounds from the back of your throat as Bakugou sneaks a hand between your bodies to press circles into your clit. 

“You’re so good, sweetheart,” he pants into your ear, his own mind spinning at the way you tighten around him to signal your release. 

Your orgasm feels like fireworks in your brain, like white hot pleasure snaking through your own body as you slump against the couch. Bakugou follows soon after, burying his face into your neck. 

For a moment, you feel at peace knowing that he is here with you—but it’s a feeling that quickly fades when you hear the doorknob of your apartment unit start to turn. Both you and Bakugou shift in your positions, staring at each other with wide eyes. 

“You said Karly wasn’t coming back until late!” he hisses. 

“I didn’t say shit! You just dumped me on the couch!” you retort, about to make a move that’ll remove you from Bakugou’s arms (and his dick), but he holds you in place with his hands on your waist.

“Don’t,” he says frantically, keeping you attached to his dick. “You’ll make a mess over this couch.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “You say that as if there already isn’t a mess.” 

“We don’t have time for this,” he hisses, moving his hands to grip underneath your thighs, lifting you up and bolting down the hallway towards your room. 

“Wait!” you exclaim, realizing that his pants and your underwear are still near the couch. “We still have stuff back there! That’s evidence!” 

“There’s no time!” he says back, managing to make it to your room and shutting the door just as the front door to the apartment opens. Bakugou is still standing, you on his dick, as you both wait with baited breath to hear what will happen next. 

There’s a moment of quiet, before Karly’s voice comes booming from the living room. “Did you guys seriously decide to fuck on the couch?”

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #mha writing #bnha writing #mha smut #bnha smut #mha fluff #bnha fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki fluff #bakugou katsuki smut #traci writes for mha

[bittersvgar]

Number 316

Just you having horns like schlatt, except yours bigger because you're a girl boss obviously.

Also their is some language here but not that much

Ewe-a female sheep

Dsmp x reader? Idk

__________________

You were always an independent person, challenging the rules of nature when you had the chance. Its how it got you here, becoming one of the most respected woman in your kingdom. Standing around 5'7 with the biggest horn people seen an ewe ever have, angering many males.

A knock was heard as you tried to sip your tea to calm down the headache happening, watching as your assistant came in timidly.

"Miss Y/n, sorry to disturb you but it seems you have another challenger."

You sighed, putting down your tea as you stood up to smooth out the wrinkles on your suit. "Tell them I'll be there in a minute."

Grabbing your gloves, you look your self in mirror, watching your scars move slightly as you flexed your hand. Placing the gloves on, you walked out of the big mansion you lived in, meeting the crowed that circled around someone.

The crowd separated to let you walk by, which means the closer you got, the clearer you saw your opponent. He was tall, you'll give him that. He was hunched over slightly, wobbling on his feet as he held a bottle of beer in his right hand. He had mutton chops that oddly suited him.

Two person seems to be holding him back, as if trying to convince him to back out, one having fox-like feature while the other had small wings on his back, that where slightly flapping as he tried to pull the ram back.

"I'm guessing your the challenger." You spoke, watching his pals let him go, giving up. The ram just eyed you down, looking at your figure that was shown from the suit you were wearing, which angered you slightly as he didn't even try to hide it. "My name is Y/n, a pleasure to meet you."

You took your hand out to shake, which the male quickly grabbed as he pulled you closer, squishing your bodies together. You tried to back up but he quickly place put hand on your waist, stopping you as he leaned forward.

"Pleasure is all mine."

Angered from his action you quickly pushed him back,causing him to trip, the stench of booze lingering around you, making your headache worst.

"Let's just get this over with." You said, nodding at your assistant who took her microphone.

"Ladies and gentleman! Ram and ewes! We are all gathered today to see another match for dominance! You all know the rules! Do not interfere or else you'll be greatly punished!"

She turned towards the Ram, asking for his name only to not get a response as he glared at you. One of his friends had to step in to tell her his name to continue.

"The challenger today is Schlatt vs our long time winner Y/n!" She showed the crowd an emerald before explaining, " The moment this emerald hits the ground the fight will commence! Now can the challenger please draw your weapon!"

Someone handed you your sword, who you thanked as you twirled it around.

"So what she can do some trick, big deal." Schlatt sneered at her before realising something. "Oh shit. Where the fuck is my weapon?"

He looked over at Fundy and Quackity who just shrugged.

"GIVE ME ONE OF YOU WEAPONS!"

"Are you ready!"

"NO! DOES IT LOOK LIKE IM READY!"

Quackity fumbled with his axe, trying to get it off his belt but he was to late.

"Go!"

Schlatt looked at you, who just stared back at him angrily. He chugged the rest of his beer, wiping his mouth before bringing the bottle up.

You just shooked your head before rushing at him, running towards the right, causing him to swing when you got close. Taking this opportunity, you quickly stopped before moving to the left, making Schlatt stumbled forward.

Taking pity on the man you took the hilt of your sword and slammed it on his back, causing Schlatt to fall on the ground face first with a thud, the glass bottle shattering in his hand leaving small but painful cuts.

"You bitch!"

He said, turning his body around, using his left hand to support his body weight only for you to hold the sword near his throat causing him to lean back to avoid being sliced.

"Admit defeat."

"Suck my dick." He spat, causing you to dig the sword on his shoulder, making his grunt in pain.

"Admit." You hissed, twisting the sword. "Defeat."

"Fine. FINE!" He yelled, grasping his shoulder when you took out your sword from his shoulder. "I LOST OK!

Your assistant smiled, bring the microphone to her lips as she cheered.

"THE WINNER IS Y/N!"

Many cheered, mostly ewes as many Rams in the crowd huffed in frustration.

You walked closer to the Schlatt, who was currently being attended by medics.

"What do you want."

You ignored him, your assistant handing you a saw, as squat down to grab one of his horns.

"Wait! WAIT! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" He thrashed in the medic's grip who hold him down for this. His friends also being restrain from trying to interfere.

"My reward." You bluntly said, sawing off about an inch of his horn, giving the saw back to someone as you got up.

"I'll- I'LL KILL YOU!" He yelled, head hurting from the vibration of the horn being sawed off.

"Shut up, it's tradition." You said annoyed, grabbing his other un-injured horn as you turn his head to the crowd. "Besides, look at all the other Rams who tried." You whispered near his ear.

Many rams in the crowd had an inch of their horn taken off, some even had two inches off, meaning they tried to challenge twice only to not succeed.

"Their pride and joy sawed off. And do you know who has their horns."

You questioned him, tugging his horn when he didn't respond, causing his head the be yanked backwards.

"Me. So what makes you think you can kill me."

And with that you let go of his horn. Turning back to your house with a part of his horn in your hand.

'What is this? The 302?'

You thought, blandly staring at the shiny horn in your hands. You walked in your study, pushing a button, the reveal a wall behind the bookcase. The sound of your heels echoed as you walked, before you finally made in to your destination.

Hundreds of horns stood on the walls. Each horn having a name and number on them indicating the order you got them. With your first horn in a glass case, the name 'dad' written on a sign next to it.

You stared at that specific horn, angrily clenching your fist as you grabbed a sign, looking at the last horn number before writing on the sign.

You placed the horn on the wall before placing the sign right next to it.

Schlatt, Number 316

Okay but im kinda proud because i did this in like 2 hours. Also its not proofread so sorry for the mistakes.

#schlatt #x reader #mcyt x reader #dsmp #dsmp x y/n #dsmp x reader #quackity #fundy #mcyt #hybrid reader

[shorkbrian]

Prelude - I need to stop catching sight of poetry on my explore page lol. This is entirely self-indulgent and very specific cause I’m rotting thru life rn and so if u dislike I understand lol. When I was in the hospital this last time it sucked rlly bad and like the awful horny degenerate I was I kept thinking abt Kirishima and soft sweet Sugawara idk lol

Pairing - Death god Kirishima x Reader

Warnings - Suicide, suicide attempt, no smut. Death. Drunk Drivers. Yandere but only a little bit and cause I can’t voluntarily accept love it has to be forced bc I cannot handle the thot of someone who is sane loving me bc there is no freaking way lol

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5Iy1wdO0tMaHwKnfFYtlel?si=-vqod-W6SHia8ui2Hdl_9g 

Adding this one bc it’s like one of my favorites and I wish god I wish and I hope that this year is better than the last amen lol also there’s nothing more sad to me than someone pleading and begging and crying for the year to treat you nicely like bitch u okay? no. the answer is no.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0xRO7EKgYKVB8zKIoiXMDD?si=HYBaiBzjRGmQwfCHgnTUxA

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“It hurts.” You had told him, as the entity sat at the end of your hospital bed.

He often sank heavily onto the nearest surface, as if his bones ached with the weight of his body. You saw him often during those first few days in the hospital, days spent puking up pills, every move you made monitored, doctors and nurses scolding you about the severity of your actions.

You didn’t think they could see the hulking figure that comforted you.

“I”ve heard that it’s supposed to.” The red god of death would think aloud.

“I don’t want it then.” Tears upon your cheeks, soft, misty. “Take it.”

“Your life?” A nod would affirm his question, but the red god would shake his head. “I am no thief. Not a hunter, simply a gatherer of souls. I won’t take what doesn’t belong to me.”

“Then it’s yours, have my life. A gift, from me to you. Don’t make me live it any longer…..”

His sadness would show in his eyes.

But the soul-crushing hugs that were provided were admittedly a tiny bit nice.

“You’re far too sweet for your own good. I’ll receive your life when the time is right, not before.”

“But I don’t want it!” You sobbed into his shoulder, the god seeming to be your only friend in the world.

Hands stroked along your back, soft shushing sounds as the god attempted to soothe you in the ways he knew how. Soft touches, kind truths. “Many don’t.  But it happens - life happens anyways. All you can do is find the things that make it less painful.”

“That’s not enough, it still hurts. I can’t stand it.” The sobs wracking your body didn’t stop the entity from holding you.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

——

He’s patient and kind.

Surprising for a god who’s work involves collecting souls as if they were taxes. A job that should be bitter and tiresome, but the entity has infinite softness resting inside of him.

He walks with you, as you get “better“.

You watch him stop to marvel at flowers, to study the way dew drips from trees in little drops, eyes wide and wondering as crows startle from their perches and take off with noisy weeping.

This courtyard is drab and brown, a prison. Safe.

Yet the god of death treats the space gently, with respect. He thanks the old walls for standing, the worn stones beneath your feet. Their service is noted and appreciated. He’s so tender it almost makes you sick.

But you come to realize that he’s simply allowing himself to be vulnerable, to experience the earth and the beings in it.

For as soon as one recognizes vulnerability, which is so different from weakness or tragedy, one experiences a sense of tenderness. Without tenderness, pleasure means nothing. You need only look at the animals to see the truth of that. It is gentleness that distinguishes their playing from the actions they constantly take to ensure their survival.

You ask why he walks with you, why he is so focused on seeing you get “better“.

A soft smile, a meeting of eyes. “There is an end to your pain, sometime and somewhere. It’s most likely not here, not in this place at least-“ and he looks around, at the cold walls, the other sick patients, the staff. All human.

“-It will come. But for now, it’s enough to try and seek it out ourselves.”

You must look more sick than you really are, talking to thin air like that.

——-

Once you return home, the red god writes you letters.

He’s an old soul, an old god. You’re sure if you asked, he’d be able to recount the very first souls he reaped, a man and a woman, sinful and sweet but in love.

The letters help you get out of bed. What new stories or little quips the god has written pique your curiosity, even when you don’t want to move, don’t want to be awake or alive.

He tells you stories about certain souls, how each one is infinitely interesting, how they all interconnect.  How some of them struggle against him, however fruitlessly. But he’s not the one who brought about their death, he’s there to comfort and guide.

Other souls, (“souls like yours” he writes) welcome him, run to his arms like a long lost lover. Their death was terrifying by their own hand, and it hurt. He can’t take away that pain, those memories. The red god says he wishes those souls find peace wherever he must take them afterwards, or at least, some form of contentment.

“The meaning of life is to give life meaning, at least, that’s what seems to be the consensus.” You rip off that part of the letter, hang it on your wall by your bed.  The other letters you keep in your nightstand, content with the knowledge that there are souls out there like you

It’s hard work, creating meaning for yourself.

The red god takes to visiting you between each letter, says he misses you, the way your soul cries. He tells you that he wishes he could help you quiet it, quiet that raging, terrible storm that hurls you about.

You make him cookies - it’s the only way you know how to say thank you. It’s what your mother taught you, so it may not be right, but the god eats them nonetheless. He likes it when you eat with him, feeding you bites from his cookie, wiping chocolate off of your nose, making you laugh with stupid jokes and a mouth stuffed full of cookies.

Even if some of them are too crunchy, or others too soft, all of them imperfect.

Imperfection is the essence of humanity, he tells you, and it’s more fun eating each cookie with the thought that you’re devouring your imperfections, making yourself whole again, filling up the empty spaces in your soul.

——

Eventually, the crawl back to your feet, rise with the unsteadiness of a toddler. You fall frequently, cry often, but you’re able to get up and try again.

Some days you need to bury yourself in sadness, let yourself feel and feel and hurt. Other days are not so bad, but still tinged  with regret and fear and sadness.

The red god is by your side, gives you something to cling to when you waver.

He is always there.

He will be there when you meet your end.

The god is in no hurry.

You question why he wastes his time on you, hours spent reassuring you, talking to you, tucking you in your bed and leaving glasses of water on your nightstand before taking his leave.

Home is a feeling, not a place. Home is with you - that’s what he tells you. You take his breath away, even though he might not even need to breath because he’s the god of death. HIs thoughts muddle and he trips over his feet and can’t help himself from wanting to hold you.

You learn that even gods yearn for home.

He’s capable of feelings and emotions just like any other human. He may be wiser, and older, able to draw from experience and a deep well of wisdom. But he still feels, and feels deeply.

Just as he gives the earth around him such reverence, he extends that same  attitude when he deals with you.

“Everything I see reminds me of you. When I wake and the sun creeps over the mountains, hesitant, it reminds me of the way that you rise - haltingly, yet it happens nonetheless. The flowers in the field that so steadily grow, you’re like ground they take root in, soft and unstable yet still tenable with the potential for growth. I don’t know, I haven’t exactly held such closeness with a human-“

He trails off, but you think you understand.

Maybe you don’t. It’s hard to relate to a god.

——

A confession occurs, and you’re surprised to learn that the blood-red god of death is in love.

“What did my hands do before they held yours? What did my heart do without all of this love? I can’t hold enough of you, I carry such love for you in my heart.”

With a frail, hopeless human nonetheless.

You don’t know what to tell him, how to explain that you can barely take care of yourself right now, meet your own needs.

But the red god seems to know, seems to understand the way your breath hitches and your eyes widen. One more hug, squeezed tight to his chest while he promises nothing has to change.

Things do change, even if you wish them not to. The world doesn’t bow to your whims, nor the death-god’s.

Innocent touches, his hand on your shoulder, patting your head, offering to rub out the tension in your back after you’ve had a crushing day - they don’t feel so innocent anymore.

The constant survellience still seemed kind, and you knew it was with your best intentions in mind that the god hovered so close, invading every aspect of your life.

But a creeping tendril of unease took hold, and you worried.

Everywhere you turned, he would be there, ready to support you, walk you through anything you wished.

Again, you questioned his commitment. Why? Why you?

“I can’t explain how fond of you I’ve grown. How heat blossomed in my chest as we grew closer. There’s infinite things I wish to say to you, ways for me to express my-my love, but I’ll just let you live.”

He neither killed you nor let you live.

Was it frightening? Maybe. But you had nothing to really live for, lost, searching for your own meaning in a big big world, floundering in an endless sea of sadness and suffering. You weren’t afraid of anything the god could, or would, do to you.

Until you woke up, not knowing where you were, in pitch black.

Arms encircling your shoulders, a soft body beneath your own, holding you tightly, a hand caressing your cheek.

A sun rose, on a strange new land, on the blood-red god gazing at you.

“There seemed to be so much more time for you. But accidents happen, Drivers drink and hearts give out. I was expecting you to grow old, for us to live and love like that, see how you grew through life.”

He looked around this new world, and you vaguely remember what had come before.  A walk along the sidewalk, blaring horns, impact, blood.

“But this will be just as nice. You can stay here with me now. Life can’t cause you anymore pain.”

You don’t feel comforted by those words.  There’s no way for you to know whether this new world would be better than the one you left behind.

#kirishima #Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima x reader #kirishima imagine #bnha kirishima #kirishima x you #yandere #Yandere kirishima #tw.death #tw.suicide

[thefanciestborrower]

I'd like to know about your OCs!

Okay okay so! I have...a lot of them, but these four are my main fantasy group and are absolutely the closest to my heart

First we got Charlie. Best way to describe her is a hummingbird harpy I think. She’s a feathery gal with them bird feet and wings, but she has separate arms as well so, not really a harpy but close enough. She’s definitely the biggest prankster and daredevil of the group, and there isn’t much she won’t do on a dare. She’s pretty street smart too so she’s good at getting out of any trouble some of her more adventurous tendencies land her in. Also, she will not hesitate to throw hands with you if you mess with her or her friends. She’s 5”0 and 90 pounds of whoopass do not test her.

Next is Jake and he’s actually the first oc I ever made! Lad is an arboreal naga, so he’s built like a stick and can climb easy as breathing. He’s super good with plants and has his own garden where he grows all sorts of medicinal herbs that he 100% knows every single use for. He also has a big staff he carries around so people assume he’s a wizard but nah, he’s just a plant nerd with a stick. He does tend to take himself too seriously sometimes and shh don’t tell anyone but he’s low key super rich. Sure he might need reminders to sleep sometimes and may or may not be stressed out 24/7 because his friends are all stupid, but hey that’s just the constant life of the mom friend. Also he might be venomous but idk he won’t tell me for sure

Then we got Nero, my boy. My main idiot. He’s also got them wings but he’s not covered in feathers like Charlie and he didn’t get the bird feet either. Just them shiny crow wings. And as you would expect of a crow, he’s a thief with an obsession with all things shiny. He’s also extremely charming and witty, and can smooth talk himself out of pretty much any situation. But he’s not exactly greedy or self absorbed either. He cares pretty deeply about anyone who calls him friend and will do just about anything to make them smile, though sometimes his efforts can make him seem selfish and a bit of an airhead. He. Is. Trying. His. Best. Also idk why I drew him with a bandana I’ve never done that before

And last, Leo. My beloved. My personal blorbo. He is, the absolute sweetest out of every single character I have ever made. Fun fact, he started out as a part of Jake before I split him off into his own character. Leo is a titan naga. Physically he looks pretty similar to common nagas except for his horns and sharp spines lining his back from the nape of his neck to the tip of his tail. Oh yeah, he’s also about 15-20 feet tall so there’s that too. He’s a mountain lad so his scales are super thick and rough, and he’s built much sturdier than nagas like Jake cause you know, he’s gotta be able to burrow through virtually solid rock and such. Despite his intimidating appearance though he’s the softest, most gentle kid you’ll ever meet. He cares more about his friends than he does himself and always, ALWAYS puts them first. Made him way before I ever saw newsies but he gives me major Crutchie vibes now that I think about it. He’s pretty tactile so he’ll constantly be picking folks up, but he never means anything by it and will not hesitate to put someone down if they ask. Nero and Charlie are virtually always perched somewhere on his head or shoulders and he loves it so much. Sweet baby boy. Cinnamon roll. Too good for this world too pure.

I have a few other ocs that are more sci-fi related and one I’m actually writing a mythopoetic story for right now, but these are my main squad and I would die for them. Also yes they are all vore ocs as well because I went and made that part of my world building whoops. But uh, if you’ve got questions about them or any of my others please send them in I am, OBSESSED with these idiots

#here they are! #my ocs please love them #arts #ask #anon ask #my ocs #oc #my characters #Charlie Cameron #Nero Dunn #Jake Weatherall #Leo Finch #the og squad

[writer-k-pop]

Gambler

하지만 내 다른 부분은 사람들을 여기 두고 갈 수 없어. But the other part of me can’t leave the people here.

Description: A meeting to con Rowan Moore, a powerful and corrupt city leader, accomplished by Gang Leader Jeonghan and his crew. Which includes you and your crush (per se), Vernon. [Italicized parts are flashbacks of sorts] {Uh, honestly, not really sure how to describe this one. Only thing I can say is that it’s inspired by the complexity of “Six of Crows” and the aesthetic of Monsta X’s music video for “Gambler” hence the title.} Warnings: Swearing, mentions of a bombing, some suggestive comments (both negative and proper suggestive) Genre: idk what do genre this as... pure fiction (?), GangMember!Vernon x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5.7k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

You step up to the dealer's stool on one side of the poker table in a secluded corner of second floor of Jeonghan's casino, Obsidian. Picking up a brand new deck of cards, you break the seal and let the cards fall out into your hands. Your skin ignites as the smooth cards slide against your hands and the edges of each make themselves known to you.

"I'm not playing if she's dealing the cards." Rowan Moore glowers at you and your jaw clenches against the slew of words you want to spit at him. But you know better than to risk blowing the whole plan so you set down the deck of cards and wait for further instructions from Jeonghan.

You look to your left and hold Moore's gaze even as it goes from cold to ice cold. It is the gaze of one of the most corrupt men in the city. It's the gaze that got him where he is. If it were anyone else standing where you are, they would've felt a winter storm rush up their spine. But you are used to this type of malice. It's kind of a usual occurrence.

The others at the table, Jihoon, Soonyoung, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan, keep their expressions unreadable and their gazes on Moore. Except for Vernon who sits in between Soonyoung and Seungcheol. You could feel his eyes watching you but you don't turn towards him.

"We are having a business meeting." Jeonghan says, unwavering as Moore moves his gaze to him, "Business meetings in my casino are conducted at the tables and that means I decide who deals. And tonight, she deals." He finishes with a nod towards you as a signal for you to pick up the cards.

As you pick up the deck again, Moore stays quiet but lets out a frustrated puff of air.

"Get me a glass of the good stuff, would you, darling?" Moore leans back in his chair and asks one of the other waitresses with a voice dripping with demeaning acid that makes your stomach twist.

You look over at Vernon, finally, and he gives his eyebrow a small quirk. Silently asking if everything is okay. A small head tilt and offering him the deck to split is enough of an answer for him.

"What are we playing with only $10 chips?" Moore questions Jeonghan, leaning forward to rest his forearms behind his wall of poker chips and staring at Jeonghan who sits on the opposite end of the table from him. Effectively to your immediate right.

Straightening out the deck, you know the answer before Jeonghan answers Moore's question. All of this is part of the plan Jeonghan devised the minute he received word that Moore wanted to meet with him about a 'common enemy.'

"Here's the plan." Jeonghan spreads out a floor plan of Obsidian on the table in front of Seungcheol, Soonyoung, Jihoon, Vernon, Seungkwan, Dino, and you. "Moore owes me a large sum of money that he has no intention of paying back. We'll play him, listen to whatever he has to say, and steal his money as he walks out of Obsidian."

Seungkwan lifts a finger, "Isn't that the whole point of a gambling game?"

Jeonghan doesn't answer the younger one, only gives a sizable smirk.

"Right, right, there's more to this..." Seungkwan grumbles under his breath, "Be nice if you would clue us in on the masterplan."

You throw Seungkwan a disapproving look but Jeonghan just ignores the comment completely.

"What are we playing?" Soonyoung questions, intrigued from the second the word 'money' came out of Jeonghan's mouth.

"Hold 'Em." Jeonghan states, watching the others expressions for any negative changes.

"Where are we playing?" Jihoon probes further into the plan that Jeonghan has locked away in his mind.

Jeonghan shifts and points to one of the poker rooms in the back of the casino. "Allure."

"Who plays and who guards?" Vernon speaks up from next to you.

"Seungcheol, Soonyoung, Jihoon, you and I will play." Jeonghan lists off the characters, "Dino and Seungkwan will guard. Plus the regulars on the perimeters."

"And me?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest, confused as to why he didn't mention you yet you are part of the meeting.

When Jeonghan answers, an excited shiver runs through your body but you don't miss how Vernon's body freezes at his words.

"You deal."

"Hold 'Em." Jeonghan answers Moore and you slide the dealer button to Seungcheol.

"Isn't that a little too simple for our minds?" Moore chuckles but it's not a true laugh.

"For you and I, yes." Jeonghan offers a smile, "But these other players aren't as complex as we are." He raises his eyebrows to see if Moore will challenge his choice and throws two of his poker chips in front of his pile.

You reach out and sweep the chips towards you as Moore tosses four at you for the big blind. The chips scatter across the table and out of the corner of your eye, you catch Vernon's fist clenching tightly. But having to ignore the specific jab at you, you sweep up the chips before dealing each player two cards.

The first round finishes quickly with Soonyoung (somehow) winning the pot. Now that the game has been established as 'fair,' it's time to move to the next step: conning Moore.

"You want her to rig the game?" Dino questions with confusion, "Can she even do that?"

You and Vernon cover up your scoffs with throat clearing and coughing.

Jeonghan smiles a little too wickedly, "Little secret for you newer boys. (y/n) can count cards like nobody's business and her sleight of hand is invisible even to me. It's the reason she's banned from playing in any of my casinos or clubs."

"It's also the reason I got hooked into his crew." You offered some extra information.

"You didn't have to stay after the first." Jeonghan quickly reminds you before giving you instructions to follow as the table's dealer, "Let the first game play out like any other dealer would let it. Following the first game, you will let us win a few, then Moore. Push and pull him. Entice him, (y/n)." He meets your gaze with eyes weighed down by the importance of his words, "Keep him at the table. Keep his focus on his luck."

"For what?" You ask, confused with what Jeonghan had planned.

But instead of hearing an answer from Jeonghan, Dino speaks up.

"A chance to sneak a hand into his suit pocket."

The second game starts and you watch the decided signs of each member on your side to tell you what cards they have. A system you each created together to make sure Moore wouldn't catch on. It was tested through the first game too and Moore still hasn't caught on, even though his eyes seem to wander around the table restlessly. After counting and switching the cards as you please, the second round has Seungcheol leaning forward to sweep up the pile of chips to his spot.

You eye Moore as you hand him his cards for the third round. This round you give to him.

The next game is also given to Moore.

"Now that we have a few games under our belt." Jeonghan speaks up as he rearranges his chip stacks to stand at the same height. "Let's discuss what you wanted to discuss."

Moore sighs, arranging his newly gained chips onto his stacks. His cockiness is starting to show. You catch the glint in his eye that shows he's confident he's figured out how to bluff out the other players.

'Early celebrator.' You think to yourself as you give Soonyoung the dealer button.

"Victor Huffman." Moore says the name with so much disgust it makes you wonder if he has swallowed acid.

At the mention of another powerful man, and another enemy, Jeonghan lets the corner of his cards snap onto the table and his eyes snap up to meet Moore's in the same second.

"What about him?" Jeonghan nearly growls out the question while Vernon and Seungcheol throw out the small and big blinds, respectively. You know that he and Huffman have a particularly nasty history but you don't know the details. No one does. It's one of the many things Jeonghan keeps under lock and key, in a bunker, 200 feet below his skin.

Your eyes flicker to Vernon and his eyes widen just the slightest, silently calling Moore a maniac for even speaking that name in Jeonghan's casino and presence. To cover up the smile threatening to appear, you lower your head slightly and deal three cards into the community hold in the center of the table.

"I want you to damage him." Moore says casually, ignoring the thick tension that he boiled up. "Take out a chunk of his men, give his finances a gut punch. Just something that will keep him quiet for a few months."

"And what would I receive in return?" Jeonghan asks, peeking at his cards again and though he is leaning back in his chair, you can tell his body is rigid against the emotions raging inside of him.

"I will pay you." Moore answers, "A sum a little more than the worth of the job."

"I fold." Jihoon breathes out and slides his cards towards you.

Wordlessly, you sweep up the cards and add them to the discard pile, intently listening to the conversation around you.

"I'll raise 6." Soonyoung says with a confident pout and slides out 6 chips in a stack. That is Soonyoung, always playing the high risks.

"Call." Vernon places his bet after a look at his cards.

Seungcheol, without taking his eyes off of Moore, simply slides his 6 chips into the center.

"You will excuse me if I don't trust your estimation of what this job'll cost me." Jeonghan comments and places his bet forward.

Moore lets out an empty chuckle that bounces around in your head. "You're smart not to." He states and slides his bet forward. "But I anticipated your doubt. And as much as I hate to admit it, I need Huffman down more than I need my money." He says while you discard a card before flipping a fourth into the community hold. "A contract for 800 million dollars."

The room goes silent. Jihoon eyes Moore up and down trying to distinguish if he's lying. Jeonghan is also trying to figure that out but he holds Moore's gaze, searching for the answer in his eyes. Soonyoung stares at his chips with wide eyes, Seungcheol looks between Jeonghan and Moore, and Vernon just simply slides his cards to you.

You give Vernon a confused look and he just shakes his head. He's folding.

"800 million." Jeonghan repeats the amount and breaks the silence. "For that amount, you want us to do more than something. You want somethings." He emphasizes the plural.

Moore smirks.

"Sir, your bet?" You refrain from using Soonyoung's name to keep your relationship with the men at the table unknown.

"You have a lovely voice." Moore comments, taking a tangent and a moment to look you up and down. "I wouldn't mind you calling me that someday." He sneers and your body tenses at what he's implying. Again, not new stuff but your body still reacts to it.

"Watch how you talk to my staff." Jeonghan spits out and throws his bet onto the table after Seungcheol.

Vernon has a look of murder in his eyes as he glares down Moore. You know he cares for you and though at times, some say it's more than normal, you know you care for him on the same level. But neither of you have had the guts to say or do anything about it.

Moore inhales and continues like his comment didn't happen. "I need you to take out half of his corn hold and a third of his cotton hold." He reveals to Jeonghan as you continue with the game. Dealing and taking cards.

"What's the time frame?" Jeonghan wonders, tapping his finger on his cards methodically.

"I need it done in a month." Moore says and Vernon jumps to his feet.

"Are you insane?" He asks, increduously.

Vernon and Jeonghan meet gazes for a second but it's only in confirmation that Jeonghan's plan is progressing.

"How are we going to get close enough?" Seungkwan asks. "Like great. Dino found out where he hides this master key but what good is it if we don't know how to get close to him. He only lets women and booze get close to that hairy chest of his."

"No." Vernon says in a low voice.

"No?" Jeonghan repeats his word with slight amusement in his tone.

"You are not letting (y/n) anywhere near Moore." Vernon explains and a sad smile reaches your lips.

You don't want to be the one to seduce Moore but you know if Jeonghan asked, you would be preparing for the role in a heartbeat.

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, "(y/n)'s not seducing him. She's dealing. And no woman's seducing him." He comments, "One of you is going to get close." He eyes the males around the table.

"How?" Seungcheol asks.

"We'll instigate his rage." Jeonghan says, "He's got a sensitive temper when it comes to two things and two things only: terms of his deals and his gambling games. After the first few games, one of you will challenge him on everything he says, get him annoyed, pissed, irritated. That will fuel his agitation to losing hand after hand to the same person." He gives a look between you and Vernon. "And that person, I've decided, will be Vernon."

Vernon's first outburst is a sign to you to give Vernon the winning hand for the majority of the games. Or force Moore to fold on the rounds that Vernon doesn't win to keep the winning 'random.'

"You're going to let your man talk to me like that?" Moore lazily blinks towards Jeonghan, trying to damp down the igniting ember.

Jeonghan makes a show of shoving a hand in his pocket for emphasis on his words, "He's my demolition guy so if you want me to take this job, like I know you need us to, you will let him say whatever he pleases." Then he looks at Vernon, "But for now, I want to see how this game plays out. I'll raise 20." He states and slides a large stack of chips into the center. Vernon silently sits back down but not without channeling all the anger within himself to send Moore a glare that could cut through diamond.

"Call." Moore smirks, his love for gambling pushing forward.

For the rest of the game, Jeonghan stays mostly quiet as he ponders the details of what Moore is asking, only speaking to call out his bets.

Seungcheol wins the fifth round with a four of a kind.

The next game is won by Vernon and he also wins the next round. Along with Vernon's occasional snide comments, you can tell Moore is getting frustrated at his terrible luck. It's not a secret that Moore gets cocky when he plays because he claims he can read people and their ticks so he knows how to outplay any bluff. But tonight, his tricks won't work.

As you deal the 8th round, Jeonghan leans forward and rests his forearms on the edge of the table.

"A month?" He clarifies with Moore.

"A month." Moore nods as he takes his cards into his hands.

Jeonghan then turns to Vernon, "Is it possible?"

"If you want a spectacle, yes." Vernon answers, his voice retaining an edge. "If you want it done quietly, no."

Moore sighs, glancing at his cards and purses his lips, "I don't care how it's done. I just need it done and done within a month."

"What happens after a month?" Soonyoung asks the question that's been the elephant in the room since Moore first mentioned the timeline.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Moore smirks and throws in his bet.

"I'll do it." Jeonghan says and Moore's smirk grows wider. "Send over the contract in the morning."

"Glad to do business with you, J." Moore says and Jeonghan's eye gives the smallest of twitches at the nickname. So small that only you are able to catch it.

Turning back to the game at play, Moore's voice is more cheerful to hide his frustration at losing his money as he says, "Now that business is settled, shall we play a few more rounds for fun?"

Jeonghan gives a very fake, yet very believable, smile, "We've got nowhere else to be."

Jihoon wins that game and you watch carefully as Moore takes a deep breath to calm himself against the blow of another loss.

For the 9th game, you let Moore think he's winning the pot without a doubt, but the real winner ends up being Jeonghan.

By now, Moore's stack of chips are the lowest at the table and he doesn't have many games left in him.

"You might as well give up now, Moore." Vernon says, voice brute with amusement and pride as he rearranges his stacks of chips just for dramatic effect.

Through gritted teeth, Moore answers, "You never know how the tides can change."

"Or they'll swallow you whole." Vernon banters back nonchalantly with a touch of boredom. Another effort to push Moore's buttons. Dismiss him in front of others, especially other powerful people. In this case, Jeonghan.

Moore swallows hard and his hand curls into a tight fist. He's going to explode soon and you know it. Everyone at the table knows it. You see Jihoon, Soonyoung, and Seungcheol all shift slightly in their seats in preparation of the moment Moore explodes.

"What are we doing when he eventually explodes?" Soonyoung asks.

"Create enough confusion for Vernon to slide his hand in, grab and replace the key, and back out." Jeonghan says.

"That's (y/n)'s area of expertise." Seungkwan counters but you and Jeonghan answer him at the same time.

"I'm dealing."

"She's dealing."

And for once, you are kind of happy to not be in the center of one of Jeonghan's masterplans.

As everyone peeks at their cards, Vernon takes a couple glances at Moore's tight expression before commenting, "Luck still out of your grasp, Moore?" He chuckles in amusement, eyes actually lighting up at the cards that you deliberately gave to him.

"Be careful of the words you speak, kid." Moore spits and glowers at Vernon who ignores the gaze and just shrugs.

"What lie will you tell the wife this time when you come home without a large sum of money?" Vernon questions, tilting his head to the side and watching his chips as he tosses them onto the table. "Will you come clean about the gambling? Or will you lie and say it was spent on the pleasure houses down the street? Which will only break poor Verna's heart even more."

"You dickwad." Moore grunts, slams his cards onto the table, and rises to his feet. "Keep my wife's name out of your disgusting, immature mouth." He quickly stalks over to Vernon and Vernon is quick to his feet to meet the large body of Rowan Moore.

But he's not angry enough to require Jihoon, Soonyoung, and Seungcheol to step in and create the needed chaos. You look to Jeonghan with concern that the plan won't work. But this is Jeonghan's plan, he has back up plans upon back up plans upon back up plans.

Jeonghan closes his eyes and gives you a tiny nod, accompanied with a tinier smile just before Vernon gives the final blow needed.

"Why are you telling me this?" Vernon asks with curiosity, sitting in Jeonghan's office alone.

"We need Moore angry enough to make Seungcheol, Soonyoung, and Jihoon's intervention realistic." Jeonghan explains leaning back in his chair.

"So I'll use the information to pull that anger out of him." Vernon concludes.

Jeonghan gives him a smile and a snapped finger gun. "Precisely."

"What do you think Verna will do with the divorce papers when she finds out you broke your promise to her?" Vernon asks, staring hard at Moore's face. "What will you do when she leaves you?"

In a split second, Moore slaps Vernon across the face and you inhale sharply as Vernon's head snaps to the right. Seungcheol and Soonyoung push back Moore while Jihoon positions himself in front of Vernon in order to keep Vernon back.

A menacing chuckle comes from Vernon's mouth as he rubs the cheek that was hit. "You hit like a girl. I'm guessing much like your daughter."

You flinch at the unexpected mention of Moore's daughter. Jeonghan tries to keep women and children out of his conversations but women, more often than not, are men's trigger point. It's rare, though, that he'd allow the mentioning of children.

In a second, Vernon pushes past Jihoon as Moore 'easily' pushes past Soonyoung and Seungcheol (more like they let him pass by with feigned weakness but also believable enough strength). His eyes blinded by rage, he doesn't stop to consider what he's doing. Vernon and Moore tousle with each other, hands flying everywhere. Soonyoung, Jihoon, and Seungcheol's hands join in, trying to 'restrain' the two arguers.

Anybody would've have missed the moment Vernon slipped his hand into Moore's blazer pocket then slipped back out and into his own pocket. But you were the one who taught Vernon the sleight of hand he would need and you are watching so you see the move with crystal clear clarity.

Once the real key is placed in Vernon's pocket, you move onto your role: diffusing and ending the game play.

"Gentlemen!" You yell with the authority of cancelling out any money won or lost. The five men stop their frenzied hand fight and look to you. Jeonghan just lazily looks up from his crossed arms. "If you would untangle yourselves and collect your chips. My table is now closed since you decided to make such a scene." You scold them with a scowl of disgust that's mainly directed at Moore.

Moore immediately untangles himself from the others and faces you. "I apologize. If you will, just a few more games." He bargains. "I will pay you the extra."

You shake your head and step down from the stool, "I've already closed." You tell him then add, "And if you're thinking of looking for another dealer, the casino's dealers have already been sent home. Tonight’s a special holiday for us, you see."

"What kind of bullshit is that?" Soonyoung scrunches his face up in confusion, "We don't have holidays."

"Moore doesn't know that." You answer for Jeonghan before turning to the man himself, "What holiday are we observing?" You ask.

Jeonghan meets your eyes with a soft gaze, "The anniversary of Obsidian's bombing."

He doesn't finish the sentence but your mind does.

"My first job with Jeonghan and the only one he failed."

The reason you stayed with Jeonghan even though he shredded your debt to him in the aftermath of the bombing.

"What kind of boss sends his income home on a money making night?" Moore laughs as if the whole day is a joke to him. His laugh only makes you want to drive a knife into his chest.

"The kind that knows the damage your partner caused to my innocent patrons." Jeonghan rises to his feet and stares down Moore hard.

Moore swallows under Jeonghan's gaze. If Moore's gaze was ice cold earlier, Jeonghan's, right now, is burning so cold that you're pretty sure he's giving dry ice a run for its money.

"Is it already that night of the year?" Moore asks you through a tight voice.

You look down at your watch, "In 20 minutes, it will be the exact minute." You inform him and Moore's demeanor falls a little.

He reaches up to pat the left side of his chest and you hold your breath incase he finds anything amiss. But with a satisfied sigh, he feels the decoy and lowers his hands back to his sides.

"Another day, I will return to win back my money." He vows to Jeonghan before he looks at Vernon. "And keep my wife's name out of your god forsaken mouth."  

"With pleasure." Vernon responds with disgust, his cheek still red from the slap he received.

Moore scoops up his tray of chips and leaves the room. His guards undoubtedly joining him the second he steps outside the room.

Seungkwan and Dino enter the room as the waitress and waiter assigned to the room leave and for a moment there is a moment of anticipating silence. Then Vernon slowly slides the key out of his pocket and hands it to Jeonghan.

Soonyoung shouts in happiness and hugs Jihoon who tries his best to escape the tight embrace. "We got the key!" He says cheerfully and Seungkwan and Dino high five each other.

Jeonghan just looks down at the key in his hand and smiles. The electronic key that will give him access to every single one of Moore's financial accounts.

"Tomorrow we'll move the money around and you each will have your share." Jeonghan announces to the room and pockets the key.

"What about the job for Moore?" Jihoon asks, successfully escaping Soonyoung's arms.

Jeonghan's lips quirk upward, "Oh, we'll do it. But we won't be doing it out of obligation to a contract. I'd also like to see Huffman on his knees for a change." He says in a voice that resembles a snake, cunning and scary.

This reminder of how ruthless and scary Jeonghan can be is the only thing that sends a shiver up your spine.

Jeonghan walks towards the door with Seungcheol behind him. As Seungcheol opens the door for him, he pauses and turns back.

"Not a word of any of this." He says and the threat is unspoken. It doesn't need to be spoken. It's understood on a bone chilling level what will happen if anyone talks about the jobs you do.

You all nod your heads gravely and Jeonghan exits the room, Seungcheol following him out the door.

Tugging at your stiff tie, you step away from the table and head towards the door. "I'll see you weirdos later." You tell the others and go in search for a few cans of beer and the solitude of the roof.

You raid the kitchen and pluck three beers from one of the many fridges before finding your way to the rooftop. Pushing open the heavy door, you welcome the dark of the night and the glow from the city around you. As you turn towards your normal spot, you're surprised to see a silhouette of a man against the city lights.

Recognizing the person, you inch forward, confused, "Vernon?" You call out his name and he turns toward you.

"Hey." Vernon answers you. In the dim light and shadow displayed on his face, you can see his cheek is still red but not as angry of a red as before.

"How's your cheek?" You ask, grimacing at the memory of having to watch the assault and setting the beers on the ledge.

He lightly touches his cheek, "It'll be sore and red for a while but I think the reward will be worth it." He comments.

"Here." You hand him one of the still cold beers. He stares at the beer in confusion and you roll your eyes before pressing the substitute ice pack to his cheek. "It'll help it."

"Right." He breathes out and brings his hand up to replace yours in holding the beer in place.

Below you, the city is bustling with sane people leaving the clubs and casinos, taking their loses in stride. Each building shines with the lights of a many tiny spotlights, casting out the moonlight before it can even get close to the ground.

"Three beer night?" Vernon questions you, eyeing the two beers left on the ledge.

"You try standing the whole night with a stick stiff suit and a tie noosed around your neck." You sass at him.

"You didn't seem uncomfortable." Vernon chuckles, as you open a beer and take a large chug of it.

You grimace as the alcohol slithers down your throat, "I'm good at faking it." You tell him. "You did good, sleighting Moore." You compliment his handiwork. "If you keep learning, you could get pretty good."

Vernon lowers his beer can from his cheek in thought, "Nah, I think I'll leave that to you. I didn't like how I couldn't see what I was doing." He holds out his hand and flexes it before opening his can, "I can see the pieces being connected when I work up a demolition explosive. Sleight of hand takes that away." Then he shivers, "Oh, no thank you."

You laugh and Vernon looks over at you, loving the way your laugh makes yours eyes squint and your cheeks bunch up.

"Alright, you stick with demolition." You tell him. "Besides, if you took over my role, I may have to leave and find a new boss to sleight for." You joke but Vernon's face falls at the mention of you leaving.

"When you get your share, will you leave?" He asks, facing back towards the street. He doesn't want you to leave but he's also heard you speak of the possibility over the last few days.

You sigh, both hands clasping the beer can, "I don't know yet." You say, facing the city lights like he is. "Part of me thinks it's time to leave, that I've paid my debt. But the other part of me can't leave the people here."

Vernon chuckles softly, "Everyone would miss you." He pauses for a second before continuing, "I would miss you."

"I wouldn't leave right away." You say and lean you head against his shoulder, "I still have to stay for the Huffman job. But it might be my last."

"Is there anything that would make you stay?" Vernon wonders, afraid to move and have your touch leave his skin.

You study the sky for a second before answering, "I don't know."

"Is there anything I could do that would make you stay?" He reiterates his previous question. In his voice, he tries to make you understand how much he doesn't want you to leave. That he'd do almost anything for you to stay.

"I don't know if anyone could do anything that would make me stay." You tell him and sit up to take another sip.

"Jeonghan could." Vernon grumbled under his breath.

Your ears perk up and you're not sure you head him correctly, "What?"

"Uh, n-nothing." He stutters and avoids meeting your eyes.

You gasp as you realize you had heard him correctly, "You're jealous!" You accuse and point a finger at him.

“I am not." Vernon defends himself, stepping back.

"Yes, you are!" Your fluttering heart makes giggles bubble into your throat.

"Seriously, I'm not." He repeats, holding up his hands but you read the jealousy on his face like the front page of the morning news paper.

"Demolition Vernon is jealous?" You say, unable to keep the giggles at bay. "Jealous of Jeonghan?"

At the name, Vernon steps forward and covers your mouth with his free hand.

"Don't say his name and that word together." He says lowly, "Do you want me to die?" He questions you with a quirked eyebrow.

You look between his eyes and reach up to lower his hand from your mouth, which comes away easily.

"He wouldn't kill you. Maybe disfigure you in some way, but not kill." You say, softly, realizing how serious this situation actually is, "As much as he hates to admit it, he needs every single one of us for any and all jobs he pulls. And he's not about to waste time looking for and training another just because of a word."

"Why did you stay with Jeonghan?" Vernon asks, not moving away, his face inches from yours.

You swallow and keep your gaze on his eyes, though you're tempted to peek at his lips. "Jeonghan and I both blame ourselves for the bombing that happened here. We both missed things that we shouldn't have missed. And because of our mistakes, people died." You explain, flashes of the terror replaying in your mind. "Jeonghan shredded my debt that night but I couldn't leave until I corrected the wrong I made."

"Have you corrected it yet?" He asks in a near whisper and a hand loops around your waist.

"I don't know yet." You answer through the pounding of your heart.

He is this close to you. This close to being yours.

"When will you know?" He questions, inching closer, eyes still locked onto yours.

You blink, "Someday." You are barely able to speak the word.

The corner of Vernon's mouth twitches, "So that means you'd stay until that day."

Unable to speak because of his closeness, you just nod once.

"Then that means I can give you a reason to stay once that day comes." He states and before you can answer, his lips crash onto yours.

You both drop your beer cans, ignoring as they collide with the ground and spill around your feet. Kissing him back with the emotions that are finally being set free, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. He does the same with his arms around you waist.

When you pull away, you're still pressed against each other and out of breath. But the sparkle in his eyes is all you can focus on.

The bright excitement that you've only seen when he finishes a complex explosive. A bubble of pride swells your heart that you're the only person who's able to pull that brightness out of him.

"Just one reason?" You question his earlier statement and tilting your head to the side.

Vernon lets out an amused puff of air, "I can give you several reasons to stay, if you want." He says before kissing you again.

"These better be some very good reasons if I'm to give up a lifetime of lazy days and millions of dollars." You tell him and play with his tie.

He presses you closer to his chest and lets his lips graze yours, "Oh, they will be very, very good reasons, (y/n). Don't you doubt that."

#kpop #kpop imagine #seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen vernon imagine #seventeen vernon #seventeen chwe hansol #vernon #chwe vernon #chwe hansol #hansol #vernon imagine #hansol imagine #chwe vernon imagine #chwe hansol imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen hansol imagine #seventeen chwe vernon #seventeen hansol #writer-k-pop

[flowers-of-io]

@eri-223​ you brought it upon yourself, now I won’t shut up c:

OKAY SO

I can’t really draw neat straight lines between the two, but there’s so much aesthetic similarity to me, particularly with Toland and the Hive-Ascendancy thing. Maybe it’s just me dying for the vibes (or loving POTO in general since I was 9), but it struck me today how Eris/Toland--when it’s made a Working ship--is basically everything Christine/Erik is not. There is so much to be said about Christine/Erik alone, but to me it’s an epitome of why gothic-novel-esque dynamics don’t really work in the long run when they don’t move past being just Gothic and Tragic. And hear me out. A goodhearted, elfin woman at her vulnerable point (grief over father) meets a honey-voiced stranger and has this secret thing with him, this music they share in the dead of night, and it’s intoxicating because music *is* her passion (and something she has deep emotions over in itself, the thing that is most hers in the world) and it’s secret, and a whole other world to what she’s facing in the daytime. The mystery is intriguing, and that’s intoxicating too. And there’s an uncomfortable power imbalance but it doesn’t bother you just yet, because there isn’t really any attraction between the two--not in the romantic-as-in-love sense at least, rather this romantic-as-in-romanticism pull all dark beautiful secret things have.

And here we can shout a fucking thank you at Erik for completely ruining that beauty by being an absolute creep. But Chrissie doesn’t know that yet. And so he leads her deep down into the dark, into his world of darkness and secrecy and yet twisted beauty, and she is living the mystery now, she’s in this nighttime world they would share in secret. And she’s close enough to take a peek behind the mask, something she was so violently curious about and attracted to, a glance into the dark abyss of his soul that is so intriguing. And so she does peek, and what she finds is terrifying rot.

And this, THIS is the best moment of the entire thing to me. This story could be well off without Raoul (whom I deeply love and cherish but he ruins the gothic) because he adds this romantic tension of a love triangle (which I absolutely loathe because ugh. love triangles.) to what could have been a tale of a girl torn between the world of day and night rather than two men who each love her in a different way. There’s so much of Persephone-sque struggle in Christine’s soul that has been shunned by the story imo, and would have made the whole thing better in the long run (and maybe less grossly-abusive on Erik’s part).

So let’s circle back to Toland, another pale, bony, possibly disfigured brunet in a dark coat with a living room full of skulls and candles (the vibes, huh. he probably owned a boat and a horse too). If we take Eris/Toland as starting off before the Hellmouth (I’m really starting to tentatively test my ground on this hhhng), it feels like the same story slightly to the left. Granted, Eris has more agency, but there’s still a huge power imbalance in her and Eriana coming to Toland--an exiled genius|madman with an evil black crow (Guren) perching on his shoulder--and asking him for help, laying their and their team’s lives at his feet - him, who could probably kill them in seventeen different yet equally fancy ways were he more invested! And there is so much darkness here already because how dark it must have been in Eris’ soul to agree on this revenge fantasy, what an abyss Eriana’s eyes must have been hiding; how desperate they must have been to come to him, to even consider this, to choose a possibility of painful, screaming agony in the Hellmouth over the ache they were feeling now. And so there’s vulnerability, too, in a way - because they’re desperate, because they’re hurting, because everything has been taken from them and they have nothing else to do but this ridiculous, mad plan. And oh he can abuse this void, he can make them do whatever he wants and they’d do it gladly, and I have a feeling both Eris and Eriana are aware of that.

And so they work, in secret, cracking secrets of the Hive, tasting the rot of the forbidden fruit, hiding from the daylight with their dark, heretic, nighttime folly. I think there is a threshold at wherever it is they are meeting--be it a room or a house, Eriana’s kitchen or Toland’s disturbing “lab”--in the doorway, between the bright but empty world of patrols and strikes and dead friends and this horrid, twisted, yet fascinating realm of promised vengeance. And I think Eris learns, hungry for secrets, hungry perhaps for Toland’s eyes on her because all dark beautiful secret things have a pull, and she can’t tell if she’s more drunk on the adventure, or the heresy they’re so blatantly committing, or him. And maybe he reciprocates in his own twisted way, maybe they talk or kiss over the parchment pages, and she cannot tell--she cannot tell if his eyes are truly for her or the Hive, the mystery, the thing they’re doing. I’m thinking of what you wrote, how “he wanted Ascendance as badly as she wanted him”. But despite that--or maybe because of it--she allows herself to be led deep down into the dark, into his world of darkness and secrecy and yet twisted beauty, and she is living the mystery now, she’s in this nighttime world they would share in secret. Is it the Hellmouth? Maybe, though I think it’s a process that spans between their secret studies of the Hive and the midst of their descent, when Vell is dead and maybe they’re all doomed, and Toland’s eyes twinkle in the dark and it’s such beautiful madness she cannot help staring. And the checkpoint has come, time to show cards--and she’s close enough to take a peek behind the mask, something she was so violently curious about and attracted to, a glance into the dark abyss of his soul that was so intriguing. And so she does peek, and what she finds is terrifying rot.

I think this is Ir Yut, or maybe a little bit earlier, but nevertheless the bubble bursts and Eris is left in the dark alone and betrayed. That’s of little concern, of course, when the Hive is hunting you down and all you hear is your friends’ dying screams, but it still hurts, it’s still bitter, it’s still so, so wrong. I like to think he comes to teach her then, maybe give her the journals, and it’s a whirlwind of madness and horror and fury and gore, but he’s whatever comfort she can hope for at this point. It’s twisted, it’s awful, it’s dark-gothic rotten, it’s as wrong and horrid as Erik/Christine is as a whole.

But then they’re given the chance Erik/Christine never got. They’re allowed to outgrow the rot. There’s so much dysfunctionality and disturb going on in most gothic-esque “love” stories because it’s not love, it’s attraction taken for a spin and often grossly abused. Love is growth. I like to think of what must have been going on in Eris’ head (and Toland’s too, perhaps, though I doubt he had one at that point) when they were exchanging the letters, the dearest Eris right next to did you watch me carve out each eye; now that she’s wiser, and scarred, and not so stupid anymore--but there’s still that dark pull she can’t help, now even scarier than before that she knows him for what he really is, now that she’s seen the rot. There’s so much hurt to be outgrown, so much betrayal, but she finds he’s yet again whatever comfort she can hope for (that entry *is* called A Light In The Darkness, huh). I could wax poetic about this whole process but I think you captured it so well in STM I don’t have much else to add.

I wanted to throw quotes into it but couldn’t quite fit them into this, uh, essay (which I didn’t absolutely re-read), and I guess Music of the Night would apply here but it’s ripe with uncomfortable sexual tension?? And aside from that (which is in its entirety a trip) just consider these ah

this whole moment

also this

He'll always be there singing songs in my head  Is this Eris in the letters phase? maybe. I performed a vibe check and it showed positive

Wandering Child for how unhealthy-twisted and beautiful it is (ignore Raoul, I have no metaphor for him in this au)

For either way you choose, you cannot win  It’s just a good quote y’all

Farewell my fallen idol and false friend / We had such hopes, and now those hopes are shattered 

Angel of Music, you deceived me / I gave you my mind blindly  (HOW SHE WHISPERS THAT LAST PART IN THE MOVIE OK)

Stranger than you dreamt it  now you’re stranded in the Hellmouth good job

What warm, unspoken secrets will we learn / Beyond the point of no return

The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn

Down that path into darkness deep as hell  but Toland smiles while he sings this

And of course the classic,  And in this labyrinth where night is blind / The Phantom of the Opera is here inside my mind

Wow! I didn’t even get to the Dreaming City! It’s way more vague than the whole Eris/Toland thing because of course ships take up 80% of my brainspace but idk I just find it so incredibly fitting when it comes to paralleling Savathun/Dul Incaru terrorising the Dreaming City with what Erik does to the opera. Like, everybody knows he’s There but no one can do anything about it, he sends vague threats and kills people but nobody can catch him, and the place is just a giant playground for him to have fun and achieve his personal goals in. And whatever the hell is going on in Masquerade, like

Masquerade! Seething shadows breathing lies Masquerade! You can fool any friend who ever knew you Masquerade! Leering satyrs, peering eyes Masquerade! Run and hide, but a face will still pursue you

wow that sure is subtle. Seething shadows breathing lies, huh. Run and hide, but a face will still pursue you :) And then he crashes the party in a fucking Red Death costume. If this doesn’t have huge Dul Incaru/Siren of Riven energy I don’t know what has.

And of course the shitshow only starts when we kill Riven but the seeds have been planted long, long ago. If you listen closely, you can hear Petra screaming in confusion somewhere under box five.

I know most of this second part is a stretch, BUT! this is my au. And for the record, I know there are very mixed feeling about the 2004 POTO movie but to me personally it was a formative experience, first watched on a very crappy TV in music class at the age of 9 and not even in its entirety, but I was already captivated and shaken to the core, and there’s still, after all those years, something that screams at my soul when I hear the first notes.

And, as a treat for those who suffered with me until the end of this essay,

#i may or may not be singing up to three poto songs next tuesday on a concert #which may or may not have been my teenage dream #reply #eri-223 #phantom of the opera #toland the sarky #eris morning #eris/toland #destiny 2 #npc talk #what is this even #i have no idea how to tag this #headcanon #ships #ir yût #dûl incaru

[elysianslove]

Hi! ☺️ could I request some demon slayer angst?? Maybe like Kyojuro x reader where his s/o is fighting along side him and something happens to them. Thank you ❤️

hi anon! idk if you read the manga or not, so i avoided spoilers. this doesn’t follow a specific timeline, it’s just random. also i love this man so much y’all i simp properly fml. anyways i hope this meets your expectations and you enjoy!!!

he admires you, so much, in every possible way. being with you, fighting alongside you, it means more to him than you could ever imagine. he admires the way in which you’re ruthless but forgiving, gentle yet rough on the edges. you balance everything out so perfectly, like you were made to be in the exact position you are right now, custom, handcrafted sword in your hand, demon blood splattered on your skin, hair disarray, and an unrelenting demon before the two of you.

he thinks it’s an upper moon, but he can’t decide, not when everything is moving so fast. kyojuro trusts you. he trusts you in the sense that he can rely on you to keep both yourself and him safe. he trusts in you, and in your ability and skill. never once has he doubted you, not even when the odds are awfully unbalanced to the opposing side, not even when either of you two are barely managing to stand on two feet, your muscles screaming for ease and comfort.

it’s not often he finds himself in your company for a mission too. he thinks that maybe it’s for the better. you’re one another’s liabilities, you’re leverage for him, he’s leverage for you, and he hates the thought of anyone or anything using you against him for any reason, because there is no higher priority than you. nothing that stands above you. when you both receive the message, crows belting out introductions just as the light begins to dim from the world around you, you glance uneasily at each other. it’s no easy feat becoming a hashira, so you’re both confident in your abilities. meaning having requested two hashira, the situation must’ve been worse than imagined or expected.

and it is. the demon relents, refusing to die despite both you and kyojuro repeatedly slashing his head off. as you try to think of various, different ways of defeating this demon, you hurt it in different ways, cutting off its limbs, stabbing it over and over again, slowing down its regeneration process as much as you can. before long, you find yourself on the floor, muscles aching beyond comprehension, mine numbing and spirit waning. kyojuro continues to fight, waiting for you to pick yourself back up again. and you can’t let him down, never.

so you stand, picking up your sword, suddenly a million times heavier than when the fight first began, and advance towards where your lover continues to battle with the creature. it’s unbelievably ugly, and incredibly vicious, never once holding back on either of you. your breath is heavy in your lungs, weighing you down, but you steady yourself. you’re a hashira. you’ve killed a million demons, and you’ll kill a million more, until you rid the earth of its uncleanliness and blasphemy. you’ll kill all the demons you can just to return home with your lover, to your lover, and lay in his arms. never having to worry for a moment more if it would be the last time you’d feel his embrace.

“kyo!” you call out, just barely ducking at the swing of the demon’s arm, raising your sword in reflex and slashing away at the limb. “the source— the sour—“

it happens suddenly. too quickly. or maybe, because of the strain of the fight, you’re just reacting slowly.

your words bubble at the back of your throat, collecting but never spilling. your limbs freeze up, your heart’s rate speeding up at an alarming rate to match with the panic suddenly overtaking you. your head is spinning, too much, too fast, and you have half a mind to look down, and notice the fist protruding from your lower abdomen. it’s the shock that keeps you on your feet for this long, even as the demon snarls cruelly and pulls away his arm from you, shoving you forward with unexpected strength, even as blood begins to pool in your mouth, painting your lips red. the pain gradually spreads, your adrenaline slowly dying out, your body lighting ablaze with flames on every inch of skin. the pain is so strong, so overwhelming and dizzying and nauseating, that it almost — doesn’t exist.

you’re not sure when it is your knees finally meet the ground beneath you, dirtying your uniform with a mixture of your blood, the demon’s, and dirt from the earth. as if underwater, you hear the dying sounds of a demon nearby, wallowing out in misery and in pain, crying out for its superior, begging for another chance to prove itself.

another chance.

will you have that?

your fall is cushioned by a pair of strong arms, familiar warmth and a familiar scent. he’s cloudy and fuzzy, his image and aroma and sense of being. you can’t see him, you can’t hear him and you can barely feel him. you think to yourself if this had happened a little earlier, you might’ve expected it, anticipated it, avoided it. you might’ve been able to slow down the bleeding using the breaths you’ve mastered after years of training. but you’re so far gone, and your entire body is already under so much strain, you doubt you would’ve survived a single, additional cut.

kyojuro admires you so much. he thinks you’re so beautiful, in every possible way. as you’re asleep, in the safety and protection of your home, in his arms. as you cook, for him and for you, and as you share that food. as you train, the sword fitting so perfectly in your hand, like it was meant for you. it is meant for you. he thinks you’re so beautiful as your eyes shine alight while you speak of your passion, or a new discovery as you share it with him. as you kiss him, so wholeheartedly, so fully, giving your all to him, always. always, always his. forever his and forever yours.

he thinks it’s so ironic he’d find you beautiful, even now, even as your spirit slips away from his very grasp.

when you come to, you genuinely believe you’re dead. the first face you see is kyojuro’s, and when you notice the never ending injuries adorning his face and hands, you realize this isn’t heaven. in heaven, your lover wouldn’t be hurt. never.

it hurts to move. or, honestly, to even think. you don’t attempt to speak. and you slow your breathing to limit your pain. you don’t do anything. you just revel in the simple fact that you’re alive, and while it doesn’t really feel like it, you really are still living and breathing. you’d been given a second chance. another chance.

“you’re so beautiful,” he says, when his eyes meet yours, and you consider how much truth is in that statement. you’ve never seen him look so relieved, so full of light and happiness. which says a lot in its own, because kyojuro has always been sunshine in human form. so, you decide, you believe him.

your lips open in a weak and feeble attempt to speak, but his fingers, wrapped in gauze, ghost over them, shushing you gently. “save your energy, darling,” he tells you, and settles in by your side. he glances down at you, his hand wordlessly finding yours and grasping it tightly, probably more than you could handle. but you feel the slight tremor to them, noticing, just barely, how his breathing stutters when he continues to stare at you — like if he were to blink, you’d disappear in milliseconds.

his free hand finds its way to your face, caressing your skin softly, fingers trudging up to your hair, where he moves it out of your face. “so beautiful,” he repeats, but it’s to himself. slowly, he bends forwards, leaning towards you, and kisses your forehead gently. his lips litter soft, featherlight kisses on your temple, your eyelids, the tip of your nose, your cheeks, and your chin. “no more demons?” it’s a question, even if unintended.

with a quiver to your lower lip, you imagine the life you’d lead, no constant ache in your bones, no more scars to add to your growing collection, not another burden, not another life lost before your eyes, not one more death-inducing worry over your lover. just you. and him. and the way he looks at you. forever.

when you nod, tears spring to your eyes, and you finally find your voice for a moment. “i love you,” you promise, and you’re thankful that you don’t have to worry it might’ve been the last time you’d uttered those words.

end note; i’m so used to killing off characters but i didn’t want you guys to hate me just yet hehe. anyways i hope the requester and everyone else enjoyed this!! as always, requests are open, and i luv u all!!

#kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kny x reader #kny angst #demon slayer x reader

[meta-squash]

I did a long thread on twitter analyzing/interpreting You’re My Waterloo for the fun of it, but it was mostly for the amusement/interest of myself and like one other friend on there that likes The Libertines. So I figured I’d transcribe it over here where people might get more out of it? Since it was a twitter thread, the sentences might be a bit weird and stilted, by the way. So:

I'm glad they waited to record Waterloo until 2015. I feel like any other time would have been wrong. I know Peter was playing the slow version back in at least 2007 but I think it would have been sad in a different way if they had recorded it before 2015. Like, in 2015 it's just a straight up love song that's slightly sad because, well, it's Peter. If they had recorded it before I feel like it'd have been a love song with resentment wound through it.  There's just a lot of emotion in that song and if there's one thing Peter is really really good at doing, it's Emoting Intensely. But it's not just Peter, the piano is so beautiful and the strings are beautiful and Carl's guitar solo is Intense. It's all A Lot. Like, of all the songs that Peter has written about Carl, about their relationship and career and experiences together, THIS is the one where you can feel most strongly the near-obsessive type adoration. So I’m glad they waited to record it properly when they were friends again (also I’m mildly surprised that it was Carl’s suggestion to rerecord it). Anyway.

Fuck the first verse of this song is a lot. This whole song is a lot. I mean it starts off with such a sad sentiment, it's almost a warning? "You'll never fumigate the demons / No matter how much you smoke." You can't smoke away sadness no matter how much you want to. Bitterly ironic, considering the sorts of things Peter ended up smoking etc to chase away demons, the types of extremes they both went to above and beyond just trying to fumigate. But anyway. "Just say you love me for three good reasons / And I'll throw you the rope." It's just so fucking codependent. So intensely obsessive and codependent. There was a quote, I think maybe from Roger Sargent?, about Peter crying outside a venue in like 2002 because even then he was scared about losing his friendship with Carl to the Something Bigger of fame. This feels like a desperate bid to hang on to that love. But also like Peter is so intense. Every video of interviews where he's sitting next to Carl or gigs when they're friends or reunions or whatever, he just wants to be in Carl's space and have Carl's gaze and his attention and stuff. Like a cat that sits on your work.

Again, a digression. Oops. I said I was in a mood. It's so interesting that while it's definitely a love song To Carl, the only direct mention of Love is asking for love From Carl. It's like he's working on the assumption that his feelings are obvious (they are) and desperately wants reassurance or reciprocation.

"You don't need it / Because you are the survivor / Of more than one life" We know the origin of this is apparently Carl's dead twin brother. But also the offering of a rope only to reassure that no, you don't need it is just so...I don't know...sweet? Especially because while "throw you the rope" is obviously a symbol of rescue it could just as easily be a noose. Except that it's neither. Because he doesn't need it. Because he can survive fucking anything, because they love each other--he hopes. It’s like, if you love me as much as I love you, I’ll try to help you, even though I know you don’t need me because you just need to realize you can do it on your own. "And you're the only lover I had / Who ever slept with a knife" The interview where they talk about this line is so funny. "No it's not about us. But Carl did sleep with a knife and the line about being a survivor is about Carl having a dead twin and Peter saying he was the twin reincarnated. But it’s totally not about us." Anyway. Ugh just so much of this song seems to be about Peter being Super Obvious and open about his love for Carl and Carl being more closed off. Carl being the only lover who slept with a knife; he'll accept the love but he's wary of it and wary giving it.

(By the way by love I don't necessarily mean Romantic or Sexual love. They clearly adore each other one way or another, that's obvious enough. But Best Friendship love is 100% a thing.) (However, the Judy Garland line is so funny to me because "Friend of Dorothy" was a secret code for gay men for a while. And considering the amount of queer literature etc Peter references in everything, there's no way he didn't know this.)

I can't really go in depth into the Tony Hancock line since I really don't know much about Hancock and I know that it was a real touchstone for Peter and Carl. But it plus the Judy Garland line feels like a "neither of us have ever really had a home, but we found one in each other" thing. Which is. A lot. Especially with the "until the dawn" bit, because a main component of so many stories about them from other people is the two of them staying up for days together writing and adventuring and just doing stuff and no one else being able to get in their little bubble.

I love the "ahh" after "Stone the crows" and the way the music starts to swell. It's obvious that the next verse is the Important One. And it is. There's the story about Peter crashing an event at the Old Vic while Carl was ushering to tell him they should be writing together and everyone who's there are dicks. But it's also like...so many layers of what is success and what is appreciation and how do you express love. I assume the flowers are not from his show, that he's collected them from the stage after someone else's show. But it's reusing tokens of mostly empty/superficial/performative appreciation--the tradition of tossing flowers on the stage--as a token of genuine love. Sitting through an entire performance, watching someone else's success and dreaming of being there and then using the token of appreciation for that person to instead give it to the person you yourself appreciate and love and want to succeed with. It's like a promise, a "we'll get there." But also another act of desperation because he's been sitting there for hours. Carl wasn't there to receive the gift and wasn't there to write with him. But he's been chasing words around on the page--the love-words to this song or the words to another one?--and he needs Carl there to really complete it, needs Carl there to hear it. It's very much in line with Peter yelling that they should be writing. This intense "Please be with me please accept the way I express myself please complete my incomplete bits please like me as much as I like you" etc.

And then the chorus which is so interesting. I desperately wish I understood the Gypsy Lane and Stanley Park references. I think Stanley Park is a footie reference but I’m not sure? I'm trying to do all of the interpretation off my own brain and not use the notes on the Genius website or anywhere else but I wanted to see if those two references here had been crowdsourced. Apparently both Gypsy Lane and Stanley Park are places he spent time in his childhood (and I called it on the football reference, yes!). Which is. Wow. Okay. And then there's Waterloo which is a whole thing in itself. It's Waterloo as Waterloo but also Waterloo Station. So Carl is able to be Peter's Ultimate Defeat, the thing that has the ability to ruin him. But also Waterloo Station is near the Old Vic where Carl worked & would go to theatre bars, so it's also a place of familiarity. Since I don't know anything else about the Gypsy Lane reference, I can only assume it's also a place of comfort and familiarity. So Peter's admitting to Carl's power over him, ability to hurt him, but offering to comfort him in return. (Important for later.)

"I'm so glad we know just what to do / And exactly who's to blame" I love this line because it knows it's wrong. Especially in 2015 but maybe even in the early days. They bounced blame back and forth between them for YEARS. Not to mention all the outside bullshit. And obviously they didn't know what to do. The Waterloo/Stanley Park is another reference to a familiar place and a power to hurt/offer to comfort moment. I wish I knew if there was some sort of proper football reference here (aka a QPR reference since that's Peter's team) but I know absolutely nothing about sport so idk.

"Well I'm so glad we know just what to do / And no one's left / Stumbling around / Tumbling around / Fumbling around / In the dark" The way Peter sings this sounds so hopeful and sad at the same time. It's interesting to know this line was written way, way back. Like, this song was apparently one of the first ever songs they demoed. The demo is a lot more frantic and less romantic but jesus christ. The way Peter sings it now it's like he knows that was just an unconscious self-fulfilling prophecy. Like, no, they absolutely were left in the dark, hurting each other over and over and not being able/willing to place blame or to communicate. Except now, in 2015, they're not anymore. (and especially not now in 2021). But it's also another desire for comfort. Like, Peter's offering the comfort here. But he's also just confessed the power to hurt that Carl has. So this is also a "are you going to offer me comfort the way I've offered it to you?" sort of question. 

And then there's the solo which. Woof. It feels like a response to Peter's words. Like reaching out with sound. Like a shoulder-squeeze or a hug in response, something nonverbal that’s really trying to catch up and match up to the intense emotions in the words. The music crescendos and the solo is literally waves of notes that roll up and down and up and then it crashes down but lands so softly at the feet of the chorus.

And then we have equal footing, sort of (and Carl as Jesus again). Carl is still Peter's Waterloo, his ultimate defeat (or his place of comfort). But now Peter is Carl's Calvary. Which is the place where Jesus was crucified. Peter’s been offering comfort to Carl, but suddenly Peter has power over Carl. It's like...veneration and threat at once. Carl's Jesus, the savior, but also if he doesn't love Peter, Peter has the power to crucify him (or at least threatens to have that power). Or it's another portent: Carl could be Peter's savior, except that everything falls apart and Carl ends up hurt instead. They both end up hurt instead. So then they're on equal footing.

Which brings them to the "Well I'm so glad we know just what to do," which feels a little sadder but also a little more confident than the other two. The answer is in the "Everyone's gonna be happy / But of course." They need to work to figure out how to make each other happy, how to be comfort rather than hurt. It's not that simple. It never is. The "But of course" is a sarcy acknowledgement of how difficult that actually is. But it's also that sort of quiet hopefulness that yeah, maybe soon we'll figure it out and everyone will be happy and will get to say "of course I'm happy" about it.

#i also did one for the Heart Of The Matter video if people are interested #the libertines #peter doherty #carl barat #apologies to the people who have been in this fandom for ages i apparently like diving straight into the deep end #when i get to a subject I like to learn EVERYTHING about it and totally immerse myself very quickly #i've known the basics of the libs story for a while now just from being into mildly related bands #and liking Peter's lyrics enough to research them a bit #but when i get into something new i do all the research on it as quickly and intensely as i can #also i'm just having fun #analyzing literature/lyrics/etc is what i like doing for fun #(PS I do most of my Libertines blogging on my other blog jesuisgourde)

[tricewithaz]

THOTS ON SHADOW AND BONE

Hello everyone! it is I, Trice, and i come with my thoughts on the Shadow and Bone show cause ive got many

I'm gonna divide this in what i liked, what i disliked, and what i think could have been better but didn't really bother me. Feel free to send your opinions too!

As a whole, I really liked the show and I think it's a great adaptation that both fans and newcomers will enjoy. It's super well done! and every episode had me glued to the tv even though I knew what was going to happen.

Beware this is long

To start,

What i liked

Mal and Alina

I never really liked Mal in the books, mainly cause he had like, nothing going on for him, and not having his pov made him no favors whatsoever. Alina's perception of him was everychanging, two factors that didn't make him unlikeable necessarily, but that made me not want to read about him. In the show he's way more likeable and even though he still doesn't have a lot going on for him, you can see that he's always trying to protect alina, and you also see a bit of his demeanor through Archie's acting. I think he made a great job at portraying him. And Alina! Alina who in the books was essentially a y/n sort of character (although she did get better over time), her character, likes, dislikes, her DRIVE was incredibly portrayed in the show. Also Jessie (loml, marry me) and Archie have incredible chemistry together and they sold their yearning SO WELL (and so did the kid actors portraying them as children oh my GOD)...yall...i cried when they held hands. My favourite scene was definitely when Alina took care of Mal's wounds (a favorite trope of mine). And the HURT in their eyes whenever they thought the other was in danger....i saw the show dubbed but I'm sure their voices made it beyond incredible as well, their face acting was just on. point. Overall the show rEALLY makes me root for them both individually and together which is something the books didn't manage to do.

The Darkling

AAAAA i really enjoyed the Darkling omg, incredible charisma, Ben does such a great job (and so did his voice actor in Spanish oh my GOD). His acting was just as I imagined it in the books and i loved how he could be as sweet and mysterious as he could be menacing. In fact! i liked him more than i did in the book, and i think it was a great choice to make him more human. I'm not sure if this was Ben or the writing, but i could really see his yearning for an equal, for Alina, his loneliness and his thirst for power and control too. Great love interest, even greater villain. And his wardrobe was phenomenal. I also really liked how they implied that The Darkling was a name given by other people, it was very believable that people would call someone who literally controls shade something akin to "son of the dark" or something of the sort, instead of it being a name he gives himself or his job title (both if which are incredibly pathetic and cringy to think about).

Jesper

No comments. He was just great. I love Kit.

Nina

Omg Danielle did SUCH a great job at portraying Nina, it's exactly how i imagined her in Six of Crows.

Helnik

THE. YEARNING. THE. CHEMISTRY. I didn't love their scenes at the boat but once that was over I was practically screaming at the screen to jUST KISS ALREADY. Calahan and Daniell have such good chemistry together and the few changes they made only served the story better. I did wish they had development over more time cause Matthias' change of mind felt too quick, but i get why they had to rush. Because of how good their chemistry was, their fallout also was incredibly painful.

Inej's fear of the Menagerie and her morals

Amita's portrayal of Inej's hurt, devotion and her refusal to kill (and later hurt cause she has killed) is incredibly subtle but so SO effective. She's so talented really and truly sold Inej's feelings throughout the show.

VFX

Man.....the fold, the volcra, the grisha powers.....kudos to the animators and overall artistic team cause they were incredible. Also seeing the different title animations in each episode was such a tiny detail that made me so excited and they all looked so good.

Ketterdam

Again, kudos to the artistic team, everything about Ketterdam felt so alive (and weirdly moist), truly sold a kind of aesthetic and life that is so characteristic if the Barrel, even when i didn't imagine it that way in the books.

David

He appeared like, twice, and both times were so cute and charming I can't wait to see more of him both on his own and with Genya.

The Wardrobe

So, at first i hated the keftas. I thought the looked tacky and costume, but when you see them on screen they're just perfect (although i have to say the patterns on some of the keftas were kind of...cheap looking? and the training keftas were just kinda boring. My favourite was the Darkling's. Aside from that, i really liked Kaz's and inej's clothes too. Very distinctive and recognizable (although it was kind of weird seeing Inej in teal instead of purple lmao).

And the queen's dresses. Chefs kiss.

It's...so cheesy (affectionate)

The whole show felt like the kind of movies I would watch as a kid like Harry Potter and Pirates of the Caribbean. The writing was stylized enough to make it incredibly dramatic and overall there was just so much heart behind all of it. Definetely a show to watch again and again and feel all of it, cause that's what it being so cheesy managed, to make me actually feel for it. It feels like something to watch on a rainy afternoon after a bad day....it's great okay i really enjoyed it, even (specially) the most unbelievable parts of it. And here's the thing, it's something that i think a lot of newer tv and film have lost, so this is good.

What i didn't like

Zoya

Mostly cause of the writing. Originally, in the first book, i didn't like her, neither as a character (stereotypical mean girl with no other motivation than to bang the love interests....all three of them....what's new i still think it's an incredibly sexist trope) or a person (hey at least this was intentional), but over time i grew to LOVE her (mean girl turns out to have a good heart and actually respects the mc and decides to fight alongside her cause it's what's right, without necessarily liking her or giving up her character??? AND she has strong motivations??? now THAT'S new). In the show, i hoped they would keep her mean girl nature while foreshadowing her depth, but all they did was turn her into a petty seductress with barely any screentime, and that only makes her not even a bad antagonist but just a boring character to watch. Not only that but they took away a big part of her character that needed to be developed in the next books. I wanted to watch her rivalry with Alina, her unjustified venomous tongue too, I wanted to be entertained by her and I wasn't. This was also a problem cause when she finally changed teams, and when she hugged Alina, it was incredibly unsatisfying, it would have had a way stronger effect if we had seen her being Ruthless Zoya with a big ambition. I also didn't like how we were told that she didn't like alina, or that she had a family, instead of it being shown on screen. Just from the show, all i can tell you about her is that she likes to bang people and she has a good moral code i guess. Yall, I'm so petty about this.

Kaz

So, I didn't hate him, in fact i think I would have enjoyed him if I hadn't read the books first, cause the two things that bother me about him were two essential characteristics of him in the books. FIrstly, he seems so strained, instead of the seemingly laid back, almost chill looking (even though we know he's not chill at all) Kaz we see in the books, the Kaz that always knows something that you don't. Show Kaz doesn't seem to always be in control, to always have the last word, the last laugh. Instead he seems strained, all the damn time. And I think this is mainly a writing and directing issue. And he also seems weak, something Book Kaz would never do. This is also an issue cause because he doesn't have the same presence he has in the books, the times where he is weak, don't seem as effective. Sure, Pekka Rollins has essentially reduced him and humiliated him, but I haven't seen enough of Kaz being actually dangerous for this to be shocking and for Pekka to seem even more hateable (and, i really liked Pekka, loved him as an antagonist more than i did in the books). Idk, Kaz was so charismatic and just fun and engaging to read in the books that his portrayal in the show felt lacking.

Alina's power's VFX

The little suns were cute and all but the light coming from within her was just ugly I'm sorry.

SFX

A lot of the sound design was just too stylized for the tone of the show i think. I particularly remember the sound of Mal's punches....what's that about.

What i think could have been better, but didn't particularly dislike

The Crows' storyline

And i think part of this is a consequence of Kaz not being as witty as he was in the books. Where's the incredibly complicated heist moves? the even more unbelievable C and D plans when something goes wrong? I didn't like that them getting Alina was essentially just luck, cause i didn't see enough of them being smart and quick on their feet. I also think it was unnecessary to have their storyline mixed with Alina's, i would have enjoyed watching a different heist, maybe in Ravka as well, and them incidentally crossing paths with Alina, more than i liked this storyline. ironically enough, the heist was the part i was least interested in

Genya and Alina

I just feel like her relationship with Alina wasn't strong enough, and i think it's because the show tried to make us believe they were much closer than they were without spending the necessary time in them.

Overall, I really really enjoyed the show, i will be watching it again (particularly cause i want to watch it in English) and i cannot wait for the second season omg (although i have to say, I'm scared for Nikolai)

I think that's all! I would also love to read yall's opinions and have a conversation.

#Shadow and Bone #Shadow and Bone spoilers #sab #sab spoilers #grishaverse #the grisha trilogy #six of crows #malina #helnik #shadow and bone series #sab review

[andie-cake]

I beat Waterloo World babeyyyyyyy!!! Here's some more psych of nauts thoughts

This is mostly a really fun level, but that one platforming section where you have to unjam the castle gates? Fuck that nonsense. It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for those little cannon guys with obnoxiously accurate aim. I managed to get past the first one once I realized I could use Levitation and Invisibility at the same time, but the second one would just shoot me off the tower from like 100 feet away every time bc Invisibility takes two seasons of a western animated cartoon to recharge. I was only able to kill the stupid little bastard once he accidentally fell off his stupid little bastard tower.

This has nothing to do with the level itself, but Crispin's "kindly back away from my elevator and die" is up there with "Nils kisses girls on the mouth and likes it" and "What a magical lady :)" for my favorite lines in the game. The delivery is hysterical, it's so lowkey and deadpan.

This also has nothing to do with the level, but I recently realized you can make Raz talk with the animals in the hubworlds if you press Y near them. And I fucking love the lines you get if you have him talk to the crows around the asylum, if only because the randomly generated lines chained together in a way that accidentally implied that Raz eats bugs. Two of the lines he can say are along the lines of "yeah, yeah, i get it, bugs are delicious" and "tell me something i don't know", which are definitely supposed to be separate voice lines. But I got them back-to-back, so it sounded like Raz was agreeing with the crows that bugs are, indeed, delicious. Idk I thought it was funny.

Since the crying of the emotional baggage is recorded by the respective VAs of the character whose mind you're in, the baggage usually makes me kinda sad (especially in Brain Tumbler Experiment, hearing the bags crying in Raz's voice is fucking heartbreaking). But it's oddly funny in this level, bc between sobs they'll go "ooough, i don't like that :(". I feel bad for finding it funny, but I can't help it bc like, fuck dude, I feel that.

Next is Black Velvetopia, which I am both very excited about and very scared about. Excited, bc temporary artstyle shift go brrrrrr. Scared, bc I don't remember how you're supposed to get the Confusion Grenades (and I'm 99% certain you don't get them within the level itself like how you get PSI Shield and Clairvoyance), and bc the boss looks kinda jank based on the playthroughs I've watched.