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storiumemporium · 7 months

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Astarion As a Father

Fem!Tav/Reader

I FINALLY GOT A NEW KEYBOARD WITH FULLY FUNCTIONING KEYS LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I elected to write about something that's been giving me brainworms for ages, because I'd been talking about it with someone on here awhile ago and it just infested me. Astarion finding out you're pregnant and how he handles fatherhood. (Or, in this case, doesn't at first.) This isn't my best work but I blame it on the fact that I didn't intend for it to be THIS FUCKING LONG okay 😭

But without further ado, daddy Astarion:

Finding out:

When it comes to children, I think Astarion hasn't put much thought into it beyond 'me!? ABSOLUTELY NOT—'

He has no illusions about his state of mind and his faculties, you see. Astarion knows that he's fucked up, he knows that he's a problem, and he's only entirely too confident that any child unfortunately put under his care would likely end up just as damaged as he is, were they to miraculously make it to adulthood. He's just not equipped for it.

And, frankly, Astarion isn't even aware he can have children... That's just, not something he ever thought to question. He's undead, is he not? That should take care of the...fertility question.

Shouldn't it?

Truth be told, Cazador never told him of the possibilities because it was never meant to be a possibility. Astarion was too malnourished, his victims too short lived for anything to ever have come of it. He was supposed to die a sacrifice, not live to carry his own bloodline (hah) onward.

Were you to ever ask him about it, even jokingly over dinner one eve, he'd be very firm in the fact that it's a terrible idea and he'd be entirely unequipped. He would even go so far as to say he's the worst choice out of all of your past companions.

"Me? No. Absolutely not. I'm sure whatever little devil you managed to cook up would be the most charming child Baldur's Gate has ever seen... But even that magical explosive that fancied himself a God would be better suited to fatherhood, darling. I am built for luxury and adventure, nothing else." All bookended by typical Astarion preening.

So when the day comes and you inform him of the little life growing in your womb?

Nope. Not happening, not even a chance of happening.

The denial is strong with this one.

And when I say denial, I mean that Astarion well and truly blots out what you've said from his mind, as if it simply didn't happen at all. You never had the conversation, you never dropped the revelation, there is no child, he is not becoming a father.

It's not a lack of want— though he doesn't realize that yet— it's true, blinding terror. Before it was just a joke, just something for him to brush off with commentary about how terribly he'd do as a parent, better the uncle than anything else. But now it's a reality and to accept what you've said is to accept that he might well and truly destroy a child. But not just any, yours.

The traumas Astarion possesses heap onto his shoulders and slough off plentiful enough to make new oceans of it. Now, not only is he just beginning to regain his own autonomy, he's supposedly being given responsibility over a brand new life?

(It would only make sense for Astarion in retrospect, that the life you willingly sacrificed to nourish and nurture him would in turn allow him to grow a new life within you. The fool had just been too blind to consider it: The way, fresh off your blood, he could pull back from the delicate column of your throat and you would find his cheeks and ears and chest flushed with the loveliest shade of pink, eyes wide and soft and alive. The way his entire body would warm, going from corpse frigid to something just beneath normal. The way his once-still heart would slowly beat again.

He'd even asked you once- curled together on a familiar silken bed, foreheads touching and your hands clasped together between your chests- if you knew what it felt like to be so, so hungry that all you could even think about was about badly you wanted to eat? How food sounded so good that the desire became crossed and instead felt even more painful and nauseating? How it consumed your ability to make rational decisions, denied you the capacity to control your emotions?

He'd told you then, voice tender and timid and weak, that he'd felt like that every single day for two whole centuries, until the night you'd willingly laid down on that cot and put your life in his hands.

It was so simple really, of course you granted him the strength to create life. It was you.)

And of course it comes to a head before there is any chance at recovery. Your body begins to show the changes, you begin to swell, and Astarion only grows more avoidant and flighty. Because now he can't simply wipe the idea from his mind and continue on as if the child doesn't exist, the proof is there every single time he looks at you. He makes it very clear to you that he will not be returning to your side without a confrontation, a very potentially ugly one at that.

And ugly it is, explosive. Astarion hasn't truly had the time to recover from his life under Cazador, and all of those protective traits he grew remain sharp as ever, returning to the surface as if they'd never truly gone away to begin with. He sneers and hisses, tries his best to dig in and hurt you enough to stop poking his tender wounds. Enough to push you away so he can lick his wounds back open. He'll go so far as to accuse you of infidelity, though he regrets the words the moment they leave his lips, it's easier for him to imagine that you simply grew tired of him, that you were weary and longed for the daylight. That you wanted someone who could hold you beneath the sun, unlike him.

How you respond to this is entirely up to you, but just shy of throwing something truly despicable back into his face, such as Cazador, Astarion will apologize... eventually. If you remain stalwart and patient, if you have it in you to recognize that he doesn't mean his words, that he's barbing you with intent, Astarion will break down in that very same argument, his angry and accusatory rant will dissolve into an admission of deep insecurity and deeper terror.

But if you respond with anger? Justifiable, and Astarion knows that even in the moment as it's happening, but emotions rule him far more than he'd ever care to admit, and he will dig in and relish the reaction he's managed to draw from you. He will bristle and bite back until suspicion and bitterness fully claims his heart, and he aborts the conversation to hide in the shadows.

Astarion will wait until nightfall, until his freedom calls for him. The one thing that always manages to clear his head, even when you prove to be the cause of his muddying. It's a reminder, every time he steps into the cool and dark of Baldur's Gate, that Cazador is dead and he is a free man. That he can go where he chooses and when he chooses to, and not only that no one can stop him, but that you wouldn't even want to stop him.

And that truth is always what brings Astarion home.

Under the distant lonely stars and that cold moon, he has to remember that time and again you have let him. You have accepted him, you have not fought him on anything shy of a horrible mistake he wanted to make in a moment of weakness and hysteria. You have accepted all his deepest and ugliest wounds and kissed them like they were freckles to pour affection on. You fought Cazador for him, you defended him from your own friends. You even- at times- tested your own morals for him.

You wouldn't betray him, and Astarion knows he can't betray you.

Astarion would return to you late, curling into bed at your side, his eyes would not meet you, and his apology would come in the form of a simple confession. "I am... afraid. I am afraid."

Astarion wouldn't blame you if you don't forgive him immediately for his transgressions, he was cruel and you were vulnerable. But even then you'll find that your love doesn't abandon you again. He accepts- however frightened- that what you've said is true and is coming, and he must accept it. Mind you, it won't be perfect and it won't be romantic. Astarion doesn't know the intricacies of handling a pregnant woman, he's hardly tactful beyond his well honed and flirtatious lines. He genuinely loves you, but he's going to come pre-equipped as father material.

You need something? He'll get it with minimal complaint (but never none, you'd sooner get him to dye his hair black than cease complaining for the sake of it), he won't begrudge you your mood swings though he might be inclined to poke fun at you ever so often. And he will panic when you burst into tears for seemingly no reason, and no- time doesn't make him adjust, he will panic just as much the thousandth time as the first.

However, if it's any consolation. The moment your child enters the world, Astarion is a changed man.

When You Go Into Labor:

Astarion did the honors of informing all of your friends about your pregnancy, once he came to terms with it. And believe me when I say it is extravagant. The stationery and grandiose script that Astarion wields when informing everyone that you were expecting better fits a wedding invitation than it does... well. Very elegantly explaining that Astarion had accidentally knocked you up.

You can tell from the splotchy stains addressed to you from Wyll and Karlach that one of them had been crying when penning the message, Astarion has coin on Wyll, and you on Karlach. Lae'zel never responds to begin with and you know for a fact the Githyanki's response will likely come in the form of her simply showing up one of these days, unprompted. Jaheira personally and rather frequently visits as well, she becomes a sort of bastion as nerves take you over, confident and calm as she is. Halsin's "letter" arrives late, rather because alongside his letter is several little carved animals for the child's room, and mentions of a quilt he intends to bring along when next he visits. Shadowheart's letter, while congratulatory, contains an air of interrogation strung all about it, all aimed with pinpoint precision at the man responsible for your pregnancy and dripping with sarcasm.

Gale's letter is seven pages long, comes with a violet hued wax stamp, and multiple different inks in the most lavish hand he can manage. You daresay he's competing with Astarion. However, surprisingly, Gale's seems to be the most... helpful of them all? It wasn't your intent, you simply wanted your dear friend to join you in celebration, and yet Gale goes on to inform you that upon reading the letter he'd become a madman in pursuit of knowledge on pregnancy and giving birth. He admits that this wasn't a particularly fruitful endeavor, as he's rather confident that you're not a gnoll, troll, cambion, succubus, or any other variety of strange creature with strange metrics of procreation. Still, Gale directs the latter portion of his letter to Astarion quite pointedly, informing him of bookshops around Baldur's Gate where he might have more success.

Astarion scoffs, but you don't miss the way his fingers twitch and flex.

After the hilarity of this is resolved and you just begin to believe that peace might return to your soft little home in the city, the first of your companions begin to arrive.

This continues on for the next week or so, without you ever knowing that this had been planned- and without knowing that Astarion had been the one to plan it. It's a furthering of his apology, of his guilt over the way he'd treated you. Again, Astarion has no illusions of the kind of man he is, and the fact he's not nurturing in the sort of ways that you need- but he's not completely stupid and he knows you're scared. So... bring the cavalry, darling.

Eventually your entire home has become a crash pad for all of your dearest friends, your family, and you only grow suspicious of Astarion's hand in this chaos because he's surprisingly amicable to having his peace so thoroughly disturbed by 'everyone and their mother'. Truly, he manages to bite his tongue some of the time about them trampling his fine rugs and scratching the plates. He even seems... wistful about it. As nostalgic as you openly are at seeing all of these beloved people under one roof again.

Nights are filled with raucous laughter, clattering utensils, a table so thoroughly overcrowded that people are playfully shouldering each other out of the way for a chance to get at their own food. And Astarion stays faithful at your side, his hand perpetually clasped gently around yours, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. Days are never spent alone, no matter what it is you need to do, someone (if not everyone) is following you along. And though Astarion feels his heart ache that he can't join you, he'll be glad to know you're safe.

Besides, your companions are likely all taking turns tormenting, testing, and relentlessly teasing him about what is to come. He has his own hands full. He's starting to regret being such a generous lover.

And then your water breaks in the dead of night.

Remember how I said Astarion was far from perfect? This would be one of those moments that it really shines.

Not that he's particularly terrible, no. He's not actively cruel toward you, and certainly not dismissive, it's somewhat the opposite. Halsin and Jaheira end up the ones helping you, the only two with some iota of understanding on what was happening and what to do with and for you. The others, less experienced in "mundane" medical situations will take up the second most important role.

Prevent Astarion from catastrophizing any more than he already has been.

Karlach has been the sole force capable of keeping Astarion away from the wine, typically bear hugging him away from your cellar while Wyll tries his best to talk your lover down from a total nervous breakdown. Of which he nearly has, several times. It's not even the sight of you, specifically. He's okay with being at your side and holding your hand, in trying his best to provide comforting words that aren't laced with sarcasm for once. But the sounds you make, that's what breaks him. Astarion isn't good at hearing you scream from the pain, he isn't good at the choked sobs or your heavy breaths. The way you sound like you're struggling against death. It makes him want to crawl out of his own skin, fight assailants that aren't there.

And for a few hours there, in the midst of your labors and your exhausted, pained little cries, Astarion isn't sure how he can love the child causing you this much suffering. It's not as if Astarion was an altruistic man on his best days, as if he were particularly reasonable when it came to you. You've both come to a mutual understanding that were something to happen to you, no morals would be involved in the things Astarion would do to rectify it.

And now, here you are, suffering. Astarion isn't supposed to do a thing about it? He's supposed to be- what, overjoyed by it? It infuriates him, he's truly prepared to have a grudge match with an infant.

Until, as the sun is starting to creep up on a brand new day, it's no longer your screams that meet the air, but another's entirely. Tiny but powerful, high pitched little squeals of fury and distress. And your laughter, disbelieving, soft, adoring already.

Astarion has a daughter.

I go with the HC that Astarion had eyes like honey once, and that his daughter takes after that, along with the delicate points of his ears mirrored in her own. She's small, so small, but healthy and already feisty, wiggling as best as her tiny body can whilst still too heavy for her to lift and move.

You're the first to hold her of course, and Astarion will be at his knees beside the two of you. The expression he wears is something you've seen maybe two or three other times in the entire time you've known him- moments when you know he expected everything to fall apart, moments where he couldn't believe that the world was so good.

It's then that you can breathe for the first time, and know that both of your darlings will be just fine.

Once he does hold her, he's not inclined to let her go. Even once you ask to have her back, he'll simply move you into his lap, so that he can hold you both. It's better that way anyhow, having both of his girls in his arms. And Astarion will repeat again and again how stunned he is, he just can't believe it. Cannot fathom any of it. I think he's the type to say that he's speechless and then spend the next five minutes doing nothing but talking. It's nervous rambling, but still, speechless is not the term I would use to describe him here.

Astarion With Your Baby:

Once your little darling is actually in your lives, you get to see how hilariously unorthodox Astarion is with children. Especially his own. Astarion doesn't baby-talk like you or the rest of your companions, he speaks in the same exact tones as he would a grown woman. In fact, for the first few days you're adjusting to a child in your life, you sometimes mistake Astarion as speaking with an unexpected guest, only to round the corner and find him lightheartedly chastising his own daughter for her poor nappy conduct as he wrinkles his nose and changes her diaper.

He's disgusted by that, by the way. Absolutely hates it, complains loudly about having to do it. But if you so much as try to stand to help he'll force you back down onto your chair or the couch, something something not useless something something already up, darling. It's as if Astarion is simply allergic to admitting that while it makes him nauseous, he wants to care for his daughter. He wants you to rest.

And yes, Astarion is the type of father that thinks all other children are hideous little fecal beasts and his daughter is the only gorgeous little angel in the entire world. Perfect, can do no wrong. He tells her as such too, in the same deadpan voice he always uses, wiggling and stretching her legs.

"You know, darling. You should count your blessings, you're the only child I've ever seen that doesn't look like some sort of hideous, deformed bean. I can't be surprised though, with as gorgeous as your parents are." And though he rolls his eyes, he's unable to contain the grin that shows his teeth when she coos and squeaks at the sound of his voice.

And yes. Astarion dresses up with his child.

The older she gets the more he does it, little matching outfits and ribbons. Nothing that she would choke on, were she to get her mitts on it. (You had to be the one to tell him no, at first. He did throw a little fit about it, just a small one).

But it's not all lighthearted, good or bad.

There are times where Astarion won't touch your daughter, won't be alone with her in the same room. He fears it, he'll eventually tell you. His... affliction came with it's dangers, always. But he's always trusted that you could defend yourself, and you're big enough that he can't just kill you between one blink and the next. The same can't be said of your darling girl. She's so small and so fragile that, were he to lose even the slightest grip of himself around her, it could cost her her life. No doubt it would traumatize her for life, regardless.

You watch it, too. The way it pinches his brows and makes him wipe his palms against his pants as if he were sweating. Nervous habits creeping up his throat and causing him to pace about like a caged animal. It's during these times that you have to bring your daughter to him. Gently place her in his arms and remind him that he's loved her from the moment he saw her. And where once he held trepidation and queasiness at the prospect of fatherhood, you can see him care so much about this little bundle that he looks sick from it. A vulnerability he can't mask.

And of course, there are times he nearly weeps for other reasons.

Like when she takes her first steps, and immediately tries to run for him.

And Astarion knows he should let her tumble, that it's good to let her fall and get back up again, but the moment her unsteady feet cause her to careen she's safe in his arms. Little kisses peppered against her giggly face. And he'll tuck away against her to try and get his bearings back, but she'll pat his cheeks and tug his ears- and you'll have to distract her with a toy while he hiccups and sniffles down his need to cry. He wasn't ready for her to grow so fast, gone is the tiny bundle that could fit perfectly in one arm, now she's walking. How long before she's dating? Gods, should he be preparing for betrothal requests!?

"I want to be mortal." He whispers to you, one night. She's tucked between your bodies, sound asleep and wiggling from time to time. This is one of the rare moments you and your love can speak to each other uninterrupted, in the tranquility of the dark hugging around you.

It's strange that he brings this up now, you'd spoken about it several times since the Elder Brain had been taken down... But in the past few years since your daughter had been born, all of that had fallen to the wayside. "What brings this to mind, Starling?"

Your hand comes to cup his throat, as you watch and feel him work as if he were swallowing a stone. "I don't want to outlive this."

It's hard to blink the tears from your eyes, understanding the implications.

Were he actually two hundred years old, Astarion wouldn't survive well past the existence of his sweet little family.

He'd been more melancholy the past few weeks, after realizing that your daughter was beginning to function on her own. She was walking, grabbing things, talking in rudimentary sentences. She was even beginning to call him pa.

He'd cried, at that.

"I'll forget," his voice draws you out from that brief reverie. The distress is palpable, but runs low like the tide before a storm. "I'll forget all of this. I don't want to know what I'll become, then."

And when you run your hands up into his hair, to scratch lovingly along his scalp, he doesn't hide the shiver or the way his face presses against your palm, cold and smooth on your skin.

"We'll find a way, Astarion. I haven't given up yet... We just- she's too young."

It's both a strain and a relief, to know that. To be reminded that your daughter is still so small, that he won't be losing her- or you- any time soon. There's still time.

Astarion With Your Teen:

Arguably this is the best time between your daughter and him. It's simultaneously a surprise and yet- not at all? He's more like her confidante and best friend than strictly a father. He isn't one for harsh curfews and strict ways of dress- rather, he's the one she comes to when she's made some sort of mistake. Or when she's angry about something.

In general, Astarion withholds judgement of her, for better or worse. The unintended consequence is that you might become more of her enemy than Astarion, because he's less inclined to punish for questionable behaviors.

It's not that he's afraid of angering her or dealing with push back- rather that Astarion's frame of reference for what constitutes a mistake is ah... rather broken. Even in the beginnings of your relationship with Astarion, the mistakes that would anger him constituted dropping an entire building on his head or... risking being turned into a Mindflayer to help some old lady find her cat.

Not feeling up cute boys in alleyways.

As a result you'll likely need to have a few conversations with him about not being so lenient on her, because she needs to have structure in how to behave. Stealing things is in fact, not okay! And Astarion will listen, but he's always going to be a bit more of a friend than anything else.

A total gossip with her, too. You'll catch them huddled around the dinner table at night, both with a glass of wine (this was an argument that Astarion ended up winning, she's allowed one glass a week, but that's all!) in hand shittalking a storm together. Astarion has become the Baldur's Gate equivalent of a PTA mom, he shows up as stylishly as he can and beefs with the parents of whichever children have upset his daughter the most. And then when they get home they just toss it back and forth together.

But I want to stress, just because he doesn't punish her doesn't mean he isn't protective of her. Astarion is more protective than you are.

Once she begins dating you'll find yourself home alone semi-frequently, because Astarion will play the supportive, loving father part when she leaves- and immediately follow her out into the dark. He's had centuries to know what dangers lurk around every corner, and foggy memories of simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time before his nightmare began. He won't allow that to happen with his girl.

And it's funny, because Astarion will talk mad shit to himself while he does it. Logically he knows that she's with some teenage boy or girl, but it doesn't stop the petty, emotional side of him from rolling his eyes and sneering at the cheap one-liners and the dumb tactics that this would-be charmer utilizes. Really, taking her into dark alleys to get her to tuck into you? Going to a totally secret spot that Astarion has known about for at least a hundred and sixty years? Get real, kid.

And you have to try valiantly not to laugh when he comes home, huffing and puffing about it. Because you will hear every single petty thought he had the entire time, and you will know that he looks like a petulant child. It's very cute.

All in all, I think Astarion is a reckless, chaotic, petty father. And one that loves his child so, so much. To the point of ruin, to the point where suddenly staying in one place doesn't seem so bad, just so she can have friends. Helping people isn't the worst, just so she can know there are heroes in the world. Suddenly he's learning to bandage scrapes and kiss bruises, and having tears and snot on his clothes mean nothing compared to the grief of the one shedding them. He loves her in ways he didn't anticipate he ever could. Enough to know all of her ticks and secrets, to know when she's lying through her teeth and when she's being devastatingly obvious.

Learning to cook even when he can't eat, listening to her spin a story with a straight face and then- as she's stepping out the door- telling her to be careful with that boy and listening to her groan loudly as the door slams shut, a mischievous smile on his face.

Holding you and dancing you around, cradling you close with all the tenderness he has in the whole of his body and soul. Kissing you, calling you the mother of his child, thanking you for giving him something he didn't even know he'd wanted. A family.

Small and odd, but his.

#astarion ancunin #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin x tav #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin x reader #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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f1letters · 1 year

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dear reader | cl16

"to a house, not a home, all alone cause nobody's there"

summary: when two strangers meet by fate in the same bar with the same goal - to drink their feelings - maybe they discover that they are actually two halves that fit together perfectly

warning: overall fluff with a little hint of angst, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of feeling trapped, mentions of Ferrari struggling over the season, brief mention of Charles' father and Jules Bianchi, strangers who fall in love on the same night they meet, instant lovers, a story very much driven by the idea of fate/destiny, open ending heavily inspired by the movie 'serendipity'

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

word count: 2.8k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, and a note written by the reader.

if you never watched 'it 'serendipity' and you are a hopeless romantic like me, please do, you will love it 💕 enjoy this one!

masterlist

Dear reader, if it feels like a trap

You're already in one

Dear reader, get out your map

Pick somewhere and just run

The funny thing about time is that it waits for no one.

No matter how many clocks have stopped, time is always ticking, regardless of who manages to keep up with it.

It seemed to advance at a speed impossible to follow and without even realizing it, Y/N ended up feeling like a spectator in her own life.

After being pushed by her parents to go to law school against her will, fulfilling their desire for her to join the family business, the girl just ended up with a degree she didn't like, a huge debt in her pocket and even more pressure on her shoulders.

Maybe working with them will make things better, maybe they'll finally be proud of me, she thought through the painful college years trying to make ends meet. But in the end, joining the company had been the worst decision of her life.

Her parents seemed to expect even more from her and no matter how long she worked and how hard she tried, nothing ever seemed enough for them. Her quest for validation from her parents just ended up suffocating her.

The young woman simply felt trapped with no options for escape.

In serious need to unwind for a night, the girl grabbed her old purse lying on her bed and walked through the corridors of the tiny apartment that she could barely afford, making her way to the exit door.

She knew she couldn't escape time or fate, but just for one night, Y/N allowed herself to breathe again, in hopes of regaining the lost sense of freedom she once used to feel.

Dear reader, burn all the files

Desert all your past lives

And if you don't recognize yourself

That means you did it right

Someone awfully familiar with the struggle she was feeling was the Monegasque lost in the same streets of the small Italian town.

Charles had never felt like this before, living so intensely inside his own head, as he looked for answers to everything that seemed to be going wrong around him.

And his head was a darker and darker place the longer he stayed there.

The beginning of the season now seemed like a distant and foreign memory. He could barely remember how he felt on top of the world as he climbed on top of the podiums, how his face hurt from smiling so much and how his confidence and his ambition were through the roof.

He couldn't recognize that hopeful, optimistic man anymore.

Being a Formula 1 driver had once been his biggest life goal. It was something he had to do not only for himself but also for those who had sacrificed time and time again for his success. For his father. For Jules.

Now his career seemed to be just a weight on his conscience.

They didn't deserve to see you fail, you're such a disappointment, he thought to himself, falling back into his self-sabotaging behaviour.

If his love for the sport no longer served as his safe haven, maybe for one night alcohol would serve as a distraction for a few hours.

Never take advice from someone who's falling apart

Opening the dark bar's golden doors, Charles was immediately enveloped by the warmth and the nostalgia that filled the place.

The room was nearly empty. Just two tables were occupied by a couple of foreigners and a group of friends making casual conversation.

And at that moment, loneliness only filled him more, because he had no one. How pathetic.

His eyes went to the bar stools, noticing then the presence of another unknown figure next to the bartender who was cleaning the counter.

The girl rested her head on one of her hands while the other entertained a glass with a clear drink into circles without much thought.

The Monegasque was sure her expression mirrored his empty one, and for a second he found a scrap of comfort in the solitude shared between them.

The driver approached the bar, taking one of the high seats and leaving a couple of empty stools separating the two of them.

"A bourbon, neat." He asked the employee.

"Ugh," He heard unexpectedly in the distance coming from the girl, enough under the influence to have no filter anymore. "I hate bourbon. I swear I don't know how you people can drink that."

Giving in to his curiosity to know more about the mysterious gloomy girl, Charles answered her. "What do you suggest I drink then?"

"For me, nothing beats a classic Vodka Martini," She replied, raising the glass in her hand to her mouth and finishing the drink in one go. "Especially when it comes to forgetting your problems." Y/N whispered to herself.

"Hey man," Charles called the bartender, grabbing his attention. "Forget the bourbon and bring me a Vodka Martini instead. In fact, make it two." He ordered, giving the girl a smirk as he walked over to the seat beside her.

Dear reader, bend when you can

Snap when you have to

Dear reader, you don't have to answer

Just 'cause they asked you

"Forgetting your problems, huh?" He asked, inquisitive.

"You're damn right..." The girl huffed, irritated not by the boy next to her but by the mess her life was.

"Well, that makes two of us," Charles tipped his glass towards her, clinking them. "Cheers!"

Y/N turned her body towards him, leaning her back against the cold bar and placing her elbows on top of it.

"Let it out, pretty boy," She said in a flirtatious tone brought on by the unusual confidence that alcohol brought her. "Tonight I'm all ears. What's wrong with you?"

"Where should I start." The driver snorted.

"And how about the start? What bothers you the most right now? What's the first thing that comes to your mind?" She asked, tilting her head.

"Hmm... Work." Charles responded, in an attempt to keep some secrecy between himself and the stranger, though her magical aura begged him to drop his guard.

"What you do?" The young woman questioned but she saw the unsure expression on the man's face straight away and couldn't help but feel guilty for trying to invade his privacy. "I- I'm sorry, you don't have to answer just because I asked you something."

Charles was so used to being flooded with questions and forced to suffer through endless interrogations with no way to escape that the girl's small gesture made him visibly relax in his chair.

"It's okay, I- Thanks," He said, eyes twinkling in her direction.

Tonight, all he wanted was to keep that detail about himself hidden. But something about her... Something about her made him vulnerable, as if she could see beyond all the walls and facades he put up.

"I drive for a Formula 1 team. Ferrari, to be more precise." He confessed.

"Oh, really?" Y/N said, his confession not having much of an effect on her tone. She shrugged her shoulders as she finished off her fourth drink. "Sounds fun."

Never did Charles feel so special in feeling so insignificant.

Y/N was the first person who saw him as Charles instead of "Il Predestinato" in a long time.

Dear reader, the greatest of luxuries is your secrets

Dear reader, when you aim at the devil

Make sure you don't miss

Time flew by as the two were lost in the light that shone through the cracks of their shattered souls.

By fate or some magic of the universe, two equally broken halves felt understood, acknowledged, complete.

Both Y/N and Charles had always been people to keep their secrets hidden like they were their greatest of luxuries, but the enigmatic connection between them brought such an astounding, tender feeling in their hearts that both of them felt quickly taken aback.

As the night wore on, Charles's hand unknowingly moved to the top of hers, and Y/N let their fingers lovingly intertwine, causing her heart to flutter.

"Do you want to get out of here? We could go for a walk, maybe you could show me around the town a bit." The Monegasque questioned, receiving an immediate nod from the young woman.

It was completely crazy to feel like that in only a few hours, they both thought to themselves.

But even if only for one night, just one night, the couple was determined to make the most of the chance destiny had given them.

Even if they knew they were living on borrowed time.

Never take advice from someone who's falling apart

The streets were deserted, with not a person in sight or a voice echoing along the roads.

On the grey pavements in that hidden little town, there was only the mystical light of the moon, the enchanting laughter that escaped their mouths and the lingering magic between the two strangers wandering through the night.

With their hands still clasped together like two magnets, Charles was telling her a story from his childhood, the frown he had on his face earlier now long forgotten.

"You should have seen Jules and Enzo's faces! They couldn't believe I won when I was just a little kid next to them! They were- What?" The boy stopped in his tracks when he saw the smirk Y/N was wearing.

"Nothing," She replied with her big starry eyes, not letting her smile drop. The girl hugged his arm, resting her head on his shoulder, sighing. "I'm just glad I met you."

Charles came to a stop, causing her to do the same, and let his gaze settle on her face as he tried to memorize every last detail about her to keep safe with him.

"Y/N," The driver whispered, grabbing her face delicately and pulling her closer to him. "You'll never understand how much I needed someone like you right now."

So I wander through these nights

I prefer hiding in plain sight

My fourth drink in my hand

These desperate prayers of a cursed man

"We shouldn't do this." The girl said apprehensively, though her body give in to the rising tension as she closed the distance between them even more, her nose slightly brushing his.

"You're right, we shouldn't," The Monegasque agreed, letting his forehead rest on hers, with the girl's warm lips now so close to his mouth that he could feel their inviting heat. "Tell me not to kiss you and I won't. But please, tell me to stop."

"Don't kiss me," She spat in a second, simultaneously in a battle between her head, which feared the guaranteed end to their short-lived romance, and her heart, which just wanted to feel alive for one night in the arms of someone who understood her better than anyone ever did.

Without controlling the words that came out of her mouth, as well as the way her lips laid barely over his, Y/N surrender to her temptation. "But, you know, you should never take advice from someone who's falling apart."

Without thinking twice, Charles kissed her as if the world was going to end that night.

Spilling out to you for free

But darling, darling, please

You wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking

If you knew where I was walking

There was no going back.

They would never know a world where they wouldn't remember how it felt to have their lips connected, how their tongues fought a flawless, other-worldly battle, how their breaths and their hearts were in perfect sync.

It didn't matter how much time passed, or what outcome their brief history might have: they lived it and it was going to be forever a part of them.

The sun was threatening to rise and the two were still involved in each other, fearing the inevitable end they had to put to their once-in-a-lifetime romance.

Y/N noticed one of the street vendors who usually occupied part of the sidewalk displaying a large collection of books in his small blue sales stand and her eyes were immediately drawn to a familiar red and gold book.

To a house, not a home, all alone 'cause nobody's there

Where I pace in my pen and my friends found friends who care

No one sees when you lose when you're playing solitaire

Pulling the driver by the hand, the girl picked up the book. "Oh my god, it looks exactly like mine. It's my favourite."

"'The Song of Achilles'? Never heard of it."

Looking at the man, Y/N couldn't let their fairy tale end with a simple goodbye. So she took a pen from her bag and opened the first page of the book, writing something the driver didn't get a chance to read.

"Tonight was amazing, Charles. You are such a wonderful person, an angel who came to rescue me from myself when I felt all alone and when I needed it most." She said, letting a tear fall as she ran a hand over his jaw.

"I will be grateful every day for having met you and I will forever keep you close to my heart."

She pulled him to her, kissing him through the tears and sadness they felt.

"Y/N, I don't want to say goodbye." Charles said, his head resting on top of hers as he hugged her tightly with his eyes closed.

"This isn't goodbye," He released her, looking confused at her words. "Fate brought us together and I believe it will bring us back together if it's meant to be."

She closed the book, placed it back on the shelf and gave the seller some money as a reward.

"In that book, I wrote a message for you and my number. If one day you find it, you'll know what to do."

Y/N kissed his cheek and, with those vague words, turned her back and walked away until he could no longer see her everlasting image.

You should find another guiding light, guiding light

But I shine so bright

You should find another guiding light, guiding light

But I shine so bright

You should find another, you should find another

Find another, you should find another

For a year, Charles searched incessantly for that book.

He couldn't keep track of the number of times he went into thrift stores looking for it, or that he approached people reading a similar book on the street, questioning them about a possible mysterious note at the beginning of the story.

Every time he came to Italy, wherever part of the country he was in, his focus was on finding the girl he let go of that night.

And as a driver for the iconic Italian team, there were hundreds of opportunities and attempts... All in vain.

Eventually, the boy gave up and decided to just believe her words: fate brought us together and I believe it will bring us back together.

Time moved on, the seasons changed and their adventure just became a distant memory hidden in the most intimate part of his mind as he devoted himself to his career, the one thing he was tremendously passionate about once again.

The man was getting ready to jump in the car for one more training session before the season started, when his younger brother walked into his room, holding a book.

"Hey, you will never guess what just happened out there!" Arthur announced his entrance enthusiastically. "This random guy just randomly gave me a book in the lobby! I think my girlfriend mentioned it the other day and-"

Charles, who had finally glanced at the younger Leclerc, immediately recognized the cover and roughly snatched it from the boy's hand.

"Hey! That's mine!" Arthur protested.

The driver opened the first page in anticipation and he could have sworn his heart flatlined for a few seconds when finally, after so much searching, the book fell right into his hands.

Her delicate handwriting decorated the top corner of the page, signing her name above a set of numbers.

'Dear reader,

I've always heard that if two people are meant to be together, they always find their way back to each other.

So please, destiny, be kind and bring back my guiding light because no one ever shined as brightly as he did.

Forever yours, Y/N.'

The universe had finally given him the second chance he'd been waiting for, and Charles surely wasn't going to waste it.

You should find another

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mercurygguk · 3 years

Text

winter soldier | jjk

genre; winter soldier/avengers au, angst/smut/fluff

pairing; winter soldier!jungkook x avenger!female reader

summary; the love of your life died during ww2, they honored his death. you had never imagined you’d ever see him again until you’d join him in death, but here he is and he’s trying to kill you. he’s not himself at all. you, however, insist that the man you used to know is still in there somewhere.

word count; 6,764

warnings; descriptions of war/battle/fight scenes, descriptions of scars, the rest of the avengers joins the party, reader is like Cap A but not like Cap A, you know??, jungkook looking hella hot with his long hair and steel arm, inspiration from ‘captain america: winter soldier’, swearing, SMUT; explicit sexual activities, oral (f. receiving), love making at its highest- nothing kinky, just plain ol’ sex

a/n; okay so um, i’m binge-watching the avengers movies atm and i was watching Captain America: Winter Soldier. i kid you not, throughout the entire movie i was imagining what jungkook would look like as the winter soldier- jungkook combined with superheroes is like the perfect story, amirite?? ;)) enjoy!

ps. once again, i didn’t proof read so ignore my possible mistakes lol

(for reference, this is what jungkook’s hair looks like in this fic)

War.

Terrorizing. Horrifying. Absolutely petrifying.

There are several words to use when talking about it, describing it, reliving it. Once you’ve experienced it, it will haunt you till the day you die and even beyond that. There isn’t much positive to take from it, not many positive memories come to you as you think back to the time during war. Only one positive memory returns to you from those dark times...

Him.

Him who did not fit in with the military services due to his lack of strength and speed. Him who never let anyone step upon him and evolved with the job. Him who never backed down from a challenge or an order given from the highest ranks. Him who had braveness unlike anyone, loyalty like no other, a will to fight for what’s worth it and to win. Him who made you fall for him without meaning to. Him who promised he would always come back to you, no matter what happened.

And then one day he didn’t. They had told you he went down in the fight, died for his country, for his team. He hadn’t hesitated to sacrifice himself, thrown himself towards the threat in the hopes of ending it for everyone once and for all. That he did. He killed himself in the process of saving everyone else.

A hero is what they had called him. Honored his name, saluting as they all stood facing his military photograph, serious faces and emotionless eyes all over. Tears had filled your eyes that day, but they didn't fall. You refused to let them. There was no way you would cry because of a liar. A coward, really. Anger kept you going, anger aimed at him. A rage so intense that you would convince yourself that you hated him. Some people would call you selfish, selfish for hating a man who sacrificed himself for everyone else. They were right. You were selfish. But love makes you selfish, and you loved him. So ridiculously much.

Years later, decades into the new century he remains as a positive yet heartbreaking and frustrating memory in your mind and heart. You haven’t aged a day thanks to the advanced technology and the project you offered to be the experiment of, in the end of the war. After his death and the war seeming more out of control than ever, you thought there wasn’t much more to live for, so you volunteered. A successful masterpiece, professor Kim had said as you regained consciousness on the lab table. You were his greatest, most succeeded experiment. You still are, except for the fact that Kim Namjoon is no longer walking among people on earth.

Now you’re living as the successful masterpiece he has created. Stronger, faster – young too even though your real age is something near 98. It doesn’t show. You look like any other 23-year-old but with extraordinary strength and speed. Being a part of a team as the Avengers truly has given you a meaning of life, a purpose that you didn’t feel you had before joining this outstanding team of superheroes as some would call you.

But as you stand here, in the middle of a battlefield that is scarily similar to those back in the 1940’s, you feel small. Gunshots fire around you, flying past your head and ringing in your ears. Explosions going off from the shots fired by Stark, Iron Man as he’s known as. The grounds breaking from the power of Thor’s hammer, the bad guys falling like flies in the hands of Widow. You’re watching it all unfold, breathing for a split second as robots are charging at you with red, glowing eyes.

For God’s sake, just how many of these are there?

Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes in pure annoyance, you set off running towards them with an unmatched speed, fists up and ready to take them out. One goes down after another, surrendering to your very angry, very powerful fists. Your patience is running thin as the robots keep appearing from left and right, setting their focus on you as demanded by whoever’s controlling them. A person you haven’t managed to find yet, but determined to hunt down and put a bullet through their head.

“Hey, Thor!” You call out to the nordic God flying around you, punching fists through robots and throwing his hammer at them. He glances your way, finding you surrounded by robots, too many for you to fight by yourself. “A lil hand here?”

He nods in response, immediately dropping to the ground and plunging his hammer into the asphalt on the ground, lightning seeping through the ground and into the robots, taking them down and splitting them in half. Thor throws a smug smirk at you before turning back around to fight another round of robots. You roll your eyes, about to run off when shots are being fired at you.

“Shit!” You hiss, running to hide behind a tipped-over truck while fishing out a gun from the strap around your thigh. You lean out, aiming in the direction of the shots. There is a man with long, dark hair, a black mask covering half his face and a silver arm that does not look familiar at all. The mysterious man steps onto the railing of the bridge he fired shots from, hard glare focused on you as he steps out and lets himself fall to the ground beneath the bridge. He lands on his feet, supporting himself with the silver fist into the asphalt. He stands to his height, walking straight towards you and leaving a mark in the asphalt where he had landed. Your eyes widen as he holds up a machine gun, opening fire at you as you scramble to run off while loading more shots into your gun.

Peeking around the corner of the brick building you’re hiding behind, you hold your gun up to aim at him. You fire a bullet, hitting his silver arm. He doesn’t budge, the bullet not even leaving a bump in the silver.

“What the-” you gape, firing shots again. He holds his silver hand up, the bullets bouncing off like they’re made of cotton, still walking towards you with eyes focused on you. There’s something about him that seems familiar – maybe his build? Or the way he walks? Or was it the slightly curly hair on top of his head? You can’t quite pin it as you watch him get closer, fists clenched tightly at his sides as if he’s ready to throw punches at you. You contemplate running to him, throwing the first punch at him before he gets to you. There is a slight hesitancy in your body as you can’t shake off how awfully familiar he seems the closer he gets to you. Knowing what the right thing to do is, you step out from your hiding spot, collecting all strength as you charge at him. A yell of anger and confusion rumbles from your chest as you jump on the last step, fist pulled back only for it to be forced forward and into the center of the mysterious man’s chest.

He stumbles back slightly, gaining his balance quickly before he steps closer, throwing a punch at you as well. You dodge, throwing your leg into his side in a strong kick. He grunts as he catches your leg, pulling on it to force you towards him. You ram into him, his clenched fist connecting with your jaw. You groan in pain as you fall to the ground, landing before his feet. Squinting at him, you watch as he kneels down over you, holding you down against the ground. As he stares at you, raising his hand to deliver a punch to your face again, you realize it as your eyes meet his. You gasp softly, not believing the sight in front of you. It’s a known fact that you would recognize those deep, brown eyes anywhere in any given moment.

“J-Jungkook?”

The sound of your voice, the sound of his name falling from your lips has him freezing for a split second. His eyes shift between yours as he slowly begins to sink his fist. But not even seconds later he’s raising his fist again and that’s when you can tell that he does not recognize you. He is looking at you as if you’re a complete stranger, like he didn’t spend the last year of his life telling you that he loved you more than life itself.

His gaze fills with the only feeling he feels, hatred. He moves to force his silver fist down and into your face, a face he used to call beautiful as he traced his finger tips along the edges. You barely dodge it, trying your very best to meet his eyes again as you call his name.

“Jungkook!” You fight the tears that are brimming your eyes as you continue to dodge his hits the best you can, “Hey! It’s me!”

He’s not holding off, continuing to throw punches at you and hitting the asphalt as you squirm in between his thighs. He’s impeccably strong, the asphalt cracking under the jabs of his fists. His thighs are keeping you in place as he pins you to the ground, your arms locked along your sides. You know he’ll punch you to death if you don’t get inside his head. It seems nearly impossible as his eyes are trained on you, emotionless and angry, only a small glimt of the man you used to know in them.

“____! Might wanna duck down a bit,” Tony shouts as he flies in your direction, his glowing hand aimed at Jungkook.

Your eyes widen in horror as you scramble together all the strength you have, throwing Jungkook off you and away from the deathly ray of light coming from Tony’s palm.

“No!”

The shot hits the asphalt a few meters away from you, nearly grazing Jungkook but it doesn’t, thankfully. Tony is shocked as he comes to a halt in the air, staring between Jungkook and you. You wave a hand at him. “I got him,” you assure him as you pant out breaths of air, nodding towards Widow and Thor, “go help the others.”

The man in the iron suit in front of you seems to hesitate for a second as he looks at you. He catches the pleading look on your face, glancing back at Jungkook for a moment before nodding at you once and flying in the direction of Widow and Thor, aiming his shots at the robots that are still coming from all sides. You turn your attention back to Jungkook, the body of the love of your life but not the eyes or mind of him.

“Jungkook,” you try again, slowly stepping closer as he stays still, slightly shocked that you had saved him from Iron Man’s deadly shot, “it’s me, ____.”

You’re begging, tone pleading him and hands up in surrender as you slowly step closer to him. He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling in deep breaths. His eyes are dark, cold and distant as you get even closer. He’s frozen in his spot. He seems confused behind that hard expression, confused because you look less terrified than you did before realizing who he is. He doesn’t flinch or move away from your hand as it inches closer to his face, reaching for the black mask on his face.

“Hey,” you softly say, hesitating to touch him as you let a single tear escape and roll down your cheek. Something flashes in his eyes as he looks into your wet eyes, a small hint of recognition, familiarity too. Maybe he remembers. You hope he does. He lets you pull the black mask off completely, the strong line of his jaw appearing in front of you as well as his pink lips you used to kiss so often in that hidden place you liked to meet almost every night. “It’s me,” you whisper, “it’s ____.”

You’re afraid you’re imagining things as tears build up in the corner of his eyes, his jaw tightening. It’s too much for him. The memories returning with full force, the emotions filling his chest and warming it for the first time in 70 years. He wants to cry. He doesn’t know whether it's happiness because you’re right here in front of him, after he thought he would never get to see you again as he took his last breath back in 1944, or sadness because he’s well aware that he almost killed you if you hadn’t pushed him off you.

“____?” His voice betrays him as it cracks, your name coming out in a croaked voice. More tears escape as you hear your name falling from his lips for the first time since that morning in the military camp where he said ‘see you soon’ and then never returned. He freezes as you throw yourself at him, arms wrapped around him as you pull him closer in a tight hug. The sniffles and muffled cries you let out breaks his emotionless, cold heart and filling it with a warmth he hasn’t felt in so long. A tear escapes from the corner of his eye as he lets his own arms snake their way around your waist, hugging you just as tight as you hug him.

Relief.

That’s what he’s feeling.

Jungkook wanders around inside Stark’s office, eyes exploring things as he calmly runs his silver hand over them. You watch him from a few feet away, arms crossed over your chest. Worry is filling your entire body as his back is turned to you. He still doesn’t seem like himself. There is something about him that makes you anxious, something about him makes you wonder if he’ll turn at any moment, falling back into whatever sort of amnesia he has been experiencing for the past decades.

You jump in surprise when the door opens beside you, revealing Tony. He notices your jumbled state, giving you a small, half smile. You turn your eyes back to Jungkook who’s picking at an ancient-looking sculpture on Tony’s desk causing Tony to take a step closer.

“Hey! Buddy!” He calls out, catching Jungkook’s attention. “Don’t touch that, please. It’s antique.”

Jungkook steps away from the desk, hands up in mock surrender, emptiness in his eyes as if he couldn’t care less about Tony’s antique sculpture. No one really cared about that sculpture. It’s doomed to break at some point when it’s placed in his office, in the Avengers building.

“Tony,” you catch the attention of the older man, looking straight at him with hopeful, desperate eyes, “can you help him?”

He turns to face Jungkook, looking him over from head to toe. “Friday, give me a scan of whatever’s controlling Jungkook.”

Anticipated, you wait while biting a nail. Jungkook doesn’t move an inch as Friday scans him for anything to help Tony figure out a way to help. He’s glancing from Tony to you, his eyes meeting yours. Seconds. It takes seconds from his stare meeting yours to something flicking behind his dark brown irises, something inside of him snapping like the tips of someone’s fingers. Your eyes widen in panic as you move to stand between Tony and Jungkook.

“Tony!” You shout, moving fast as you try to get in between the two men. Tony has already activated his iron hand, catching Jungkook’s silver fist right before it hits him square in the face. You come to a halt, staring in surprise as Tony tightens his hold on Jungkook’s fist, forcing him to the ground. “Tony, please, don’t hurt him. He’s not in his right mind!”

“Oh, really?” Tony scoffs, sarcasm dripping from each word. A small yelp leaves your mouth as Tony kicks his knee up under Jungkook’s jaw, knocking him out. Jungkook falls limp to the floor, eyes closed as he’s kicked unconscious by Tony. You kneel down beside him, brushing his long strands of hair out of his face. He looks peaceful as he lays there, completely unconscious, and yet there’s a furrowed look on his face, like he’s never free from whatever that is controlling him. You sigh deeply, head dropping as you cradle Jungkook’s hand in your own. Tony’s palm rests on your shoulder. You glance up at him. He gives you a small, reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, we’ll help him,” he tells you. You nod, knowing he spoke the truth.

“Thank you.”

The frustrated look and furrowed eyebrows are gone. He looks genuinely peaceful this time, long lashes resting on the top of his cheeks as he rests beneath the sheets on your bed. You can’t help yourself as you reach out, palm cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone in a soft caress. Hopefully you’ll have the love of your life back once he wakes up from the deep sleep Tony put him in.

You’re about to move away, retrieving your hand from his cheek just as you hear him whimper softly. Turning back to him, you watch as his lower lip begins to quiver, eyebrows furrowed tightly together. “No,” he whimpers again, head shaking in his sleep. “Please, no! Don’t!”

Worry fills you once again as you sit on the edge of the bed beside him, hands cupping his face between them. “Jungkook,” you softly call, trying your best to wake him without startling him. “Jungkook, my love, please wake up. Please!”

Startled, you gasp as his eyes shoot open, his lips parting as he gasps for air. He’s looking right into your startled, widened eyes. It takes a minute for him to realize who you are and where he is, the surroundings not seeming familiar at all, but it feels nice. The aura, the warmth and the dimmed lighting in the bedroom where he’s tucked under the sheets.

“Hey,” you breathe out as you smile, not sure what to say to him. Tony had made sure to help him, get whatever that was controlling him out of him, his head to himself now and slowly filling with memories, both good and bad ones. “How are you feeling?”

He groans as he moves to sit up. You help him straighten up, making sure he has a pillow for his back as he leans back against the head of the bed. He closes his eyes tightly together as he drops his head back, still trying to calm his erratic breathing. You sit back in the chair you had pulled to the bedside when you got here.

“I feel…” he begins, words feeling foreign on his tongue as he speaks with a croaking voice. He sighs deeply. This is a lot for his head to take in in just one day. “I feel like my head is about to explode.”

Your smile is careful as you look at him. “Makes sense,” you softly say, watching him glance at his arm only to notice the silver is still there, like he had hoped it would be gone. It’s easy to tell the arm itself is a symbol of a very dark time as he looks at it and then looks away from it. He isn’t fond of the silver arm, obviously having a love-hate relationship with it as it has given him power and strength he never had to begin with and problems he never voluntarily wanted in the first place. There’s pain in his eyes as he glances at you, shame as he cowers under your gaze.

You frown deeply. “What happened to you?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper. He closes his eyes, not really wishing to go back to those dark times where his life was saved and changed for the worse. The dark times where he became a shadow of himself and a manipulated soldier, brainwashed to take orders from others.

“I, uh, I don’t think-“ he stumbles over his words.

You place your hand over his actual hand, your thumb brushing the skin there. He glances at where you’re touching him before looking up at you. You’re hurting, it’s easy to see. It’s not your own pain though, it’s his. You’re feeling pain for him, hurting because he went through things he never should have, things where death would’ve been much less painful. You want to kiss him, kiss it all better if that was possible.

“You can tell me,” you whisper, pleading him to confide in you, to tell you what happened to him all those years ago.

He sighs deeply, turning his hand over to wrap it around yours. A rush runs through your stomach as he grips onto your hand with a hold so tight that you find yourself promising him silently that you’ll never let go again by giving his hand a small squeeze.

“They found me a few days later,” he starts, gaze focusing on the way yours and his fingers intertwine with each other like they’re meant to do it, “in the ruins of buildings. I-I wasn’t fully awake when they did, only just coming to my senses again after the explosion that was meant to kill me.”

You’re focusing on his hand in yours now, not able to look into his eyes as he tells the story of how he ended up here, 70 years later, and still looking like himself but with longer hair and impeccable strength.

“I didn’t recognize them. They wouldn’t tell me anything. They took me to this place, a bunker or something like that. There was this huge laboratory inside with equipment way ahead of its time,” he looks confused as he relives the horrifying moments, “I was placed in a chair and the next thing I know they’re sawing my arm off-“

You whimper. “Oh, god,” tears dwell in your eyes as you grip his hand tightly.

“____, I have never felt as much pain as I did that day,” he looks you straight in the eye, the pain from that day flashing over his face as he recalls it, the feeling of it. “And all I could think about while they turned me into this- this monster… was that I lied to you.”

You shake your head in denial. “No, Jungkook,” you whisper, “you couldn’t know. You couldn’t.”

He offers you a small half-smile, remorse covering his features as he reaches up with his silver hand, careful as he lets the fingertips of it brush your hair out of your face.

“I’m sorry I gave you an empty promise,” he whispers, silver fingertips brushing against the side of your face. You cover it with your own hand, letting him cup your face in the cold silver. He leans closer, hissing lightly as pain shoots up the side of his torso. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come back to you like I promised.”

“You did though,” you sigh deeply, resting your forehead against his. “You’re right here.”

He nods softly, his eyes shifting between yours.. “and I won’t leave again,” he assures you before hesitating, shrugging as he adds; “unless you want me to.”

You chuckle through the tears that had built up in your eyes. He’s smiling at you as you reach up to cup his face in your palms, brushing your thumb across his cheeks. He’s watching you, still not quite believing that you’re here with him. After so long. 70 years of wondering if you’re still alive. 70 long years of wondering where you were in the world. 70 unbearable years of longing for your touch, your soft, plump lips that made his heart stop beating for a few seconds each time they would touch his in a kiss.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he whispers into the small gap of air space between you and him. “Each time I’d return from a mission and become myself again after being under mind-control, you were the first thing on my mind. To be honest, I don’t think you ever left it. You’ve always been there with me, in the deepest parts of my consciousness. You kept me sane during the missions, kept me from forgetting myself completely.”

Listening intently, you close your eyes as your thumbs continue to brush over the skin on his cheeks. He continues, a deep sigh falling from his lips and clashing against yours causing goosebumps to rise upon your body. You’re shocked that you have gone this far without smothering him in kisses. You don’t want to risk anything, waiting patiently for him to make the first move in the direction of more physical affection, whether it’s a touch of his hand, a hug or more.

“And when I realized it was you earlier today...” his voice cracks, “when I realized I almost killed you- I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for that.”

“You can and you will,” you softly tell him, the undertone of your voice stern, “you didn’t kill me. You wouldn’t. You were gonna recognize me sooner or later.”

He exhales shakily. “You don’t know that,” he almost snaps, eyes closed tightly as he drops his silver hand from your face. He pulls away from your touch, the warmth of him disappearing the further he moves away. He’s not looking at you. Tears are threatening to spill as you stare back at him, lips slightly parted as you want to speak up. You want to tell him he’s wrong, but you already know that he will not take your words for what they are. He, and you, know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t pushed him off when you did.

“You’re right,” you say, catching his attention again. He barely glances at you, noticing the small remnants of tears in your eyes before looking back at his silver hand, clenching and unclenching it. A tear rolls down your cheek. “You’re so right, Jungkook. I don’t know if you would or not.”

You get up from the chair you’ve been sitting in since you brought him back to your apartment. Jungkook still refuses to look at you as you move onto the bed, crawling closer to him. You don’t hesitate as you lay a hand on his shoulder and throw a leg over his to straddle his lap. He finally looks at you, eyes slightly widened at your actions. His eyes meet teary ones again, his silver arm moving out of an old habit as he reaches up to wipe your tears away.

“But I like to think you would.”

Your lips press against his before he can reply to your words. Jungkook gasps and then grunts in response as you press your mouth to his, desperately and needy. His body freezes beneath you as you kiss him, tasting his lips for the first time in an unbearably long time. It takes him a while to realize that you’re kissing him, finally kissing you back as he cradles you in his arms, pulling you closer to his chest. The silver arm keeps a tight grip around your waist, holding you in place as the other runs up your thigh.

Pulling away, you gasp for air, letting your forehead rest against his. Jungkook is breathing heavily, his breath once again clashing against yours as you both catch your breath. Your eyes meet, seconds after he’s kissing you again, your tank top riding up as the silver arm keeps you tight against him. The silver touching your skin causes goosebumps to cover your skin, a chill running up your spine as you cup his face. His tongue licks against your bottom lip, you let him in. A moan escapes your lips as his tongue touches yours.

“I’ve been holding myself back ever since you woke up,” you whisper against his lips, making him smile as his hands slide under your top, pushing it up before pulling it over your head completely. You return to his lips, catching them with your own as you reach for the hem of his t-shirt. He helps you pull it off, your mind elsewhere as you throw it onto the floor. Your hands rake down his body, over the tensing muscles of his abdomen as he moves his kisses down your cheek and further under your jaw. Your breathing is ragged as you pull away, only a few inches so you can glance down at his torso. The sight horrifies you, your fingertips brushing over scars and healed wounds.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as you glance up at Jungkook, his eyes meeting yours for a few seconds before you look back at his chest. Your eyes wander, over his both small and larger scars to his silver arm. You feel your heart tightening as you take in the way the silver arm is sewed onto his body. You hesitate to reach up, Jungkook’s eyes on you as you let your shaking fingertips brush over the burned, scarred skin that keeps the silver arm attached. “I- This…”

His human hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your skin. “I know,” he agrees without hearing the rest of the sentence. You look back at him, finding relief in his eyes as you rest your palms against his chest. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he then says.

“They literally cut off your arm,” you point out, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t even imagine how much pain he must’ve been in when they did this to him. “I wish I could have spared you this pain, spared you the torture you went through.”

He smiles softly. “I know, ____. But there's no way you possibly could’ve.”

You're carefully running your pointer finger along one of his scars when you look up at him, eyelashes framing your eyes so perfectly. He thinks you’re absolutely beautiful, even more so than the last time he saw you. You can’t do anything to stop the words that tumble from your lips next.

“I love you so much, Jungkook.”

His breathing stops for a second, his heart skipping a beat. He hasn’t heard those words since 1944. He didn’t even hear those words that morning you had sent him off, he hadn’t said those words when he promised to return. He should have. That way you’d never be in doubt of his love. He wonders if you’ve loved him since or if there has been anyone else in the meantime to love you the way he should’ve.

Silently, you watch him as his thoughts run one hundred miles per hour. Your palms are sliding from his chest to his shoulders and further up his neck to cup his face again. The love he feels is evident in his eyes as he focuses on you.

“I love you,” he whispers, carefully turning you over onto your back only for him to hover over you. You’re watching him, tingling in your stomach as you hear the words fall from his lips. He returns to kissing you, kissing the skin on your cheek, your neck and further down to the very top of your chest, right beneath the collarbones. He glances up at you as he kisses his way down the valley of your bra-covered chest. “I didn’t say it enough back then,” he mouths against your skin, another round of goosebumps rising beneath his lips, “I should have said it more. I’m sorry.”

You exhale deeply, arching your back into his touch as he reaches your navel and moves even further down to the waistband of your pants, your spandex pants that you so elegantly wear whenever you have a mission with the Avengers.

“Stop apologizing,” you breathe out, eyes closed as you succumb to his touch. The silver hand brushes over your stomach as it runs up to your chest, unclasping your bra on the front. It falls to the sides, revealing your perky nipples to the crisp air. You gasp softly as a silver hand brushes over both, the cold steel doing nothing but erecting them even more. “I've always hated it when you apologize.”

He smirks softly against your lower stomach, pressing one last kiss to the skin there before pulling the silver hand down to pull off your pants, and panties too. The pants are barely on the floor before he returns to your lower abdomen, kisses being spread across your hip bones and pubic bone. You reach down to tangle your fingers in his long hair as he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs. He spreads your legs, revealing your throbbing core to him.

“God, I missed this,” he breathed out, the air of his words hitting your wet folds. “Having you like this, all to myself.”

You whine from above him. “Jungkook,” you whimper, “please.”

It doesn’t take more for him to lean closer, tongue licking a stripe up between your folds and to your clit, his silver arm sliding across your abdomen to keep you down as he eats you out for the first time in decades. One would think he had lost his touch and knowledge of a woman’s body, but you can say that he certainly didn’t as he roots himself between your legs, tongue licking your wetness and prodding at the entrance.

“Oh god,” you moan, softly gasping for air as his human hand rests on top of your one thigh, fingers digging into the flesh there. You’re in heaven, on the ninth cloud as he slurps your arousal, licking your folds and clit as if his life depended on it. “Fuck, Jungkook!”

The sound of your name toppling from your lips as he hits a certain nerve makes his body flush with a warmth he almost forgot what feels like. You’re writhing in the tight hold of his silver arm, squirming as he licks you to your release. The orgasm is approaching fast and hard, Jungkook being the sole reason for it. No one could ever get you there as fast as him.

“I’m s-so close- oh!,” you pant, your walls clenching as Jungkook’s actual fingers slide into you. He pumps his hand in and out of you in a pace that is perfectly building up your orgasm. He takes nothing but a glance into his eyes as he leans down to softly kiss your clit that you’re toppling over, hitting the wall of your orgasm. “J-jungkook, my god!”

You jerk away as he leans forward, tongue licking up your release, tasting it on his taste buds. He hums with a small smile as he glances up at you, loving the way your eyes are almost bulging out of your head at the sight of him between your thighs. It takes nothing more than a few seconds before you shitting up, Jungkook meeting you halfway in a kiss. Tongues clash against each other, the taste of you on his tongue as he kisses you deeply, needingly.

“Please fuck me,” you mumble in between kisses, a desperate whining tone attached to your words. “Make love to me, Jungkook.”

He seals your words with a kiss, giving you a silent promise of doing just that. As if he’d lick you out and that would be it. No way.

You watch, teeth biting into your bottom lip, as he gets off the bed to remove the sweatpants you had dressed him in when you got back, getting him out of those military pants with belts and buckles all over them. His cock springs free, slaps against his abdomen as it stands proud into the air. A rush runs through your stomach at the sight, mouth slightly watering. Once the sweatpants and his boxers lie on the floor by his feet, he crawls back onto the bed. He moves closer, pushing you back onto your back as he hovers over you. You’re glancing at his silver arm for a mere split second, your hair reaching up to run along the hard edges of it. Jungkook can’t feel your touch but he’d like to imagine that he can as he watches your palm brushing over and further up to the nape of his neck. His eyes move back to lock with yours. You’re looking at him just like you did that last night of intimacy you had back in 1944, the night before he was sent off on a deathly mission. A huge wave of emotions hits him as he glances from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“I love you,” he softly says, eyebrows furrowed together as he looks at you, “so much, ____.”

You smile, pulling him down to meet you in a kiss. The kisses are soft, tender even as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance. You gasp into his mouth as the tip of his cock prods at your folds. A hand of yours tangles back into his locks as he pushes inside, the tightness overwhelming for the both of you. He rests his forehead against yours, your breaths clashing together between you as he buries himself to the hilt.

“Shit,” he hisses, glancing down at your connecting hips. “Can i move?”

You nod your head, whispering, “yes.”

Jungkook watches the way your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pulls out and pushes back in, the sight causing him to do it again and again, wanting to see you lose yourself and succumb to the feeling of his cock brushing against your walls.

“Oh fuck!” You gasp as he gives you a particularly hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin as he hits that exact spot that makes you whimper out a soft, whiny moan. You’re clawing at his shoulders, his neck and chest as he sets a rhythm, keeping it steady as he grinds into you. He grabs your leg with his silver hand, helping you to wrap it around his waist. The other follows suit, locking with your other behind his back. He hits deep inside of you, his veiny cock sliding against your walls so deliciously.

It’s like that last night you had with him all over again just with more longing and more desperate kisses. Your stomach tingles with the overwhelming amount of emotions you’re feeling in this exact moment as you look up at him – his long hair slightly damp at the roots, his toned chest glistening in sweat as he works you both to a release, to a high you’re both so desperately in the need of.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans as you unawarely clench around his length, his head dropping to your shoulder. “Don’t do that or I’ll cum right now.”

“Sorry!” You squeak, chuckling as he eyes you with a small smirk. God, you wanna ride him so badly. “Oh, Jungkook,” you moan breathily as he hits your spot again. He’s watching you, eyes running over your face as it contorts in pure pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he grunts, leaning up on his hands to get a better angle. He rams his hips into you, his strength coming to show as he thrusts into you harder than ever before. The power of his thrusts have you seeing stars as your second orgasm nears you. Jungkook can feel it as you clinch repeatedly around him. He won’t last much longer if you continue to do that.

High pitched moans tumble from your parted lips as he speeds up his movements, desperately trying to get you over the edge before he topples over himself. Your nails are digging into his shoulders as you reach your high, the orgasm hitting you like a bullet.

“Oh my fucking god,” you moan, breathing ragged as he continues to fuck you to get himself to cum. His breathing is uneven, not matching his thrusts as all as he moves in and out a few more times before stilling inside of you, spilling his load and painting your walls inside.

“Fuck, I love you,” he breathes out as he drops his forehead to your collarbone. You’re smiling widely as you run your fingers from his shoulders and up into his hair. He lifts his head to look at you as you push his long, brown hair out of his face. You know him too well when he gives you a look, a small smirk on his lips. A joke is coming. You can just feel it. And you can’t help but grin at him as everything feels exactly like 1944 again. Also, you want to punch him for his next words:

“Not too bad for a 98-year-old, huh?”

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peach-the-owl · 3 years

Note

I think I something you might going to like. 84 but with a twist. Reader is a sorcerer and a friend of Vox Machina, the last time they seen them was battle Mind Flayer thus sacrificed themselves to froze the gate to other dimensions and stop Mind Flayer. Only see Vox Machina one final look before froze themselves. Not until Mighty Nein broke the frozen sorcerer. Only hear familiar voices, once they open their eyes they realize it's not Vox Machina, but the group who saved them.

Kinda like Avatar The Last Airbender when Aang frozen in time. Hope this is too much for you.

Some friendships transcend lifetimes… I love The Last Airbender it’s such a good show, and I’ve defiantly watched it over a dozen times, but anyways onto the story

I know I’ve called stories long before but like I thing this one takes the cake so far… here’s hoping it’s a good one

Lost Time

Vox Machina/Mighty Nein & Sorcerer!Reader (Platonic)

84- Who are you?

Spells flew left and right as you and the rest of Vox Machina faced off against a rather troublesome Mind Flayer, your ultimate goal was to destroy the gateway this aberration had opened and stop any beasts from coming through from other dimensions. Having silver dragon blood running through your veins meant you specialized in ice magic, being able to freeze just about anything with enough time and effort put in. With the rest of the team keeping the Mind Flayer distracted while you tried to use your magic to freeze and shatter the gateway, but the problem was this gate was enormous. The Mind Flayer had caught on to what was happening and attacks you causing you to lose concentration on your task, thankfully you’d managed to deal enough damage to shatter the base of the gateway causing it to crumble to the ground, falling on the Mind Flayer effectively killing it. For a moment it looked like you’d won but as the dust settled some you see the portal was still open and extremely unstable, energy crackling every which way the cavern starting to collapse around you.

"We can’t stay here the whole place is coming down on top of us." Percy calls for a retreat.

"It didn’t close, we broke it but it didn’t close!" Grog shouts still in a rage. You look over at all of them then over at the portal, you knew what had to be done so with a shaky breath you start towards the broken gateway.

"(Y/n) what are you doing? We need to leave!" Vax calls for you with a panicked tone.

"If I don’t seal this thing, it could mean more trouble then even we could handle." You continue forward against the groups protests getting close enough in range to start using your magic to freeze the opening before anymore energy can release itself. The room grew drastically colder, frost appearing along the walls as you pushed yourself past your limits.

"We can’t just leave you here!" Pike cries.

"You have to, if you don’t you’ll be buried here as well!" You yell, urging them to go without you.

"But-"

"Just go!" You scream at them, by now you could feel the cold of your magic effecting your own body. With looks of sorrow you watch as they all make their way to the exit, Keyleth looks back and calls your name one more time before being dragged off by the others. "It'll be okay." You whisper to yourself, a single tear sliding down your cheek as the gateway lets loose a pulse of energy and you unleash all your magic at once to conceal it, making your vision go white…

Everything felt cold, shadows were moved around in front of you. Were you dead? You thought you might be but then you start hearing faint voices, albeit muffled hit your ears.

"… see that?" It kinda sounded like Vex but you don’t remember her having such a high pitched, bubbly voice.

"It… dangerous." That sounded like Keyleth except much deeper and gravely.

"Wait, I think… in there." Since when did Grog become so soft spoken and educated?

"Maybe… use fire… see what’s inside." You defiantly don’t remember Scanlan sounding so shrill before.

"… not a… perhaps… could be dead." Now when did Vax get such an odd accent?

"… they're alive. We need…" Percy also sounded much calmer and relaxed then you were used to. What was going on, and why did everyone sound so different? A glowing light shines through bringing a warm feeling with it, there’s a cracking sound followed by shattering as you fall to the ground, you figured Pike must’ve used some sorta healing or restoration spell to free you. After a slight pause you gasp in actual air for the first time in you weren’t sure how long, and look up at the people in front of you. Your vision was still a little blurry trying to adjust to your surroundings and for a brief moment you thought you were staring at your friends, but when you rub your eyes to clear them you see before you a group of complete strangers making you jump back in surprise.

"Who are you?" Your voice comes out chattering both from fear and from the cold that still lingered in your body.

"Could ask you the same question." The woman who looked to be a monk shoots back.

"Well I asked first." You rebuttal attempting to stand, your legs were still shaky causing you to trip only to be caught by the firbolg on one arm and the tiefling on the other.

"Hi! I’m Jester!" The tiefling says cheerfully, holding her hand out for you to shake.

"Uhh… pleasure to meet you." You greet slowly accepting the hand shake, you then look to your other side at the firbolg.

"Hi, I’m Caduceus, how are you?" He introduces himself.

"I’m doing quite alright, thank you." You then look to the others in the group.

"Hi I’m Nott, just Nott." The goblin gives an awkward little wave, you wave back.

"Name's Fjord." There was a minor shift in his voice that made him sound more western, but only for a moment. You just nod your head in acknowledgment.

"My name's Caleb Widogast." The red head says rather stiffly, you could easily tell he was a wizard due to the large spell book stripped to his persons.

"Beauregard." The monk woman simply says.

"It’s very nice to meet you all. My name's (y/n)." You finally introduce yourself, now feeling a little more comfortable around them. "You have my thanks for freeing me of my icy prison."

"How did you end up in there anyways?" Jester asks. You explain to them everything you could clearly recall from your adventure before somehow placing yourself into some kind of frozen stasis.

"You know, now that I’ve had a better look…" You trail off slightly, taking in your surroundings once more. "This looks nothing like the cavern I sealed myself in. Where exactly are we?"

"You're in the Happy Fun Ball!" Jester happily states, you give her a confused look.

"That’s only a nickname." Caleb quickly jumps in, giving you a quick explanation of the object you were inside.

"How strange, maybe the last pulse of energy from the gateway sent me here along with most of the ruins." You look over at the broken and thankfully inactive gate that was in shambles, defiantly no way to activate that thing anymore.

"So if I may ask, why go through the trouble of coming here a second time? I mean, you know how dangerous it was the first." You question.

"Well we're looking for someone, that wasn’t you, and hopefully find a way to stop this cult for something called the Angel of Irons." Fjord gave an explanation this time. You let out a large sigh, this was a lot of new information to take in such a short time.

"That’s interesting." You say absentmindedly, still taking in this new situation you were suddenly in. You shake your head a bit and look to the group. "Well, if you need any help I'll happily oblige, it’s the least I could do for freeing me."

"Why that’s very generous of you, honestly we could probably use all the help we can get." Caduceus gives you a kind smile.

"Of course, just tell me everything I need to know about your situation." With that they all started to explain everything that’s been happening, it being a little hard to follow along sometimes with them talking over each other but you get the picture eventually. "So your friend, Yasha right? She’s under this Obann's control and they also have a creature called the Laughing Hand at their disposal. Now your here looking for the wizard Yussa because he’s been missing in here for 3 weeks and time is really strange here too, did I get all that?" You question.

"That’s the basics of it." Nott says with nod.

"Looks like we got our work cut out for us. Especially with the strange time here." You place a finger under your chin in slight thought, you had a lot of questions running through your head but had to put them aside for now, there were more pressing matters to deal with first. Finally having regained enough strength to stand on your own you set off with this new group of adventurers…

Taking down the Permaheart had been no easy feat but with Beau downing it and yours and Caleb’s combined spells it was finally reduced to frozen ashes and you’d finally located Yussa, amongst other things that happened and were ready to leave this place once and for all. Throughout all this, as helpful as you were you could tell this group still didn’t fully trust you, whispering amongst each other and defiantly not telling you everything. Who were you to blame them though, they were as much of strangers to you as you were to them, even if they did save you, so you figured it best to just keep a slight distance when they talked quietly with each other, and if you were being honest you were exhausted. Having been frozen for who knows how long didn’t cancel out the effect of having used a lot of magic, plus the magic you used to help fight off the creatures and creations that lurked in this sphere. You located the exit and the second you all arrived inside of Yussa's tower you fell to your knees panting.

"Whoa, hey are you alright?" Fjord comes over to you and helps support your weight so you could still stand.

"Sorry, I’m just a little tired is all, I suppose after everything I still haven’t fully recovered from my icy sleep." As if to exaggerate your point you let out a yawn and start leaning your full weight into the half-orc.

"Do you think it would be alright if we left (y/n) here for the time being." Caleb asks Yussa who in turn looks over at your exhausted form.

"I juss need some proper rest, I’ll be out of yer hair and rejoin with them once I dooo." You slur through your words slightly.

"Very well." He says with a soft sigh, then turns to his assistant to get a room prepared for you. When your brought in you immediately collapse on the little makeshift bed and pass out, getting some much needed rest. You awaken feeling much more refreshed and walk your way up the tower to where you hoped to find Yussa, when you enter the room you see the mage as well as the Mighty Nein and a very familiar face who stared back at you with as much of a shocked look as your own.

"Allura?" You ask almost nervously, she looked much older then when you’d last seen her. You see her eyes gloss over a little as she holds back tears.

"(Y/n)?" There’s a slight silence that fills the room before the two of you embrace each other. "I was told you sacrificed yourself to save our everyone, we all thought you were dead!" Allura practically cries, breaking away from the formal appearance she’d put on in front of everyone until now.

"I thought I was as good as dead too, but these folks here saved me, pulled me out of my frozen tomb." You say gesturing towards the Nein.

"Wait wait wait, you two know each other?" Nott looks between the two of you confused.

"Of course we do, we're friends." You simply reply.

"You haven’t changed a bit." Allura says looking you over.

"And you…" You pause slightly. "You’ve certainly gotten wiser." Allura just gives you a look that says "yes, I know I’m old". After your little reunion you refocus your attention on the task at hand, collecting information on this Angel of Irons and learning that it was in fact the Chained Oblivion, Tharizdun. You listen intently to everything being said to get a better understanding of what was going on and the more you learned the more serious and dangerous the situation grew.

"I believe it best I return to Tal'Dorei and inform the council, will you be joining me?" Allura looks over to you for confirmation.

"As much as I’d love to go home, I promised these fine people I’d help them. It’s the least I could do for what they’ve done for me." You give your friend a smile, she returns it with a worried look then sighs and nods.

"Alright, just please be careful and don’t disappear again, I don’t know how I’d handle the knowledge of seeing you alive only to learn you’ve really died this time." She places a firm yet gently grip on your shoulders, you place your hands on top of hers and give them a reassuring squeeze.

"I can’t make any big promises here but I’ll do my best. Until then it may be best if you keep my status a secret to everyone, alright? You’ll even be the first person I visit once this is all over." You look her in the eyes and slowly release your grip, once again she nods as she slowly moves her hands back to her side and teleports out of the tower.

"Aww man, I wanted to know who was on this council she mentioned." Nott looks down disappointed.

"Me too." Jester pouts. "Unless you know!" The two of them give you expectant looks making you take a step away from them.

"I can’t say I’d know for sure, a lot is different now then what I remember." You hold up your hands in defence.

After getting everything sorted out, you left Yussa's tower thinking as long as you stay with this group you should be fine. Then they split up, the girls in one direction and the boys in the other which threw you for a loop but you were able to sort yourself out and enjoy a more casual rest of the day getting to better know some of the others. The following days weren’t as you’d expect however especially when you were shopping around a little shop know as the Invulnerable Vagrant, it was no Gilmore's Glorious Goods but it still nice and you had to admit the shopkeeper, Pumat, was a charming firbolg in his own right. What was really unexpected though was the surprise attack by the Inevitable End, dealing with them was tricky when they could phase through the floor but you managed to drive them off and check in on what was happening with Yasha. Your next stop was a visit with a sorta mafia? You were really starting to question the group's moral compass, sure you have done crazy things in the past too but the Nein seemed to find a way to make things even weirder, you decided to stay out of most of it when they told you the only way to get in was to share your blood. Meeting up the next day you made your way back to Pumat's shop, being both shocked a relieved when he decided to join and help the party on this fast approaching mission…

Never in your life had you thought that the steps to a cathedral of Pelor would feel so menacing and filled with unease and yet here you were. The battle was intense, rifts opening and bringing forth creatures of the abyss, Yasha and the Laughing Hand were proving to be tough opponents and everything seemed to be going downhill. With sights set on the mind-controlled barbarian you weighed your options, you couldnt be reckless with your spells seeing as Beau had fallen unconscious so an AoE spell might end up killing her, you settle for using a Ray of Frost spell seeing as your silver dragon blood made it stronger. It works, distracting Yasha away from Beau and giving Caduceus the opportunity to dispel the control over her and spare Beau from deaths grip. With that taken care of you switch your focus to an oddly familiar situation, going to close the rifts and stopping the creatures coming through, however this time it wasn’t a large gateway at least. You were very focused on your task you didn’t notice Obann escape to the deeper chambers of the cathedral until you heard one of the Nein call to you.

"Obann's escaping we need to move!" Caleb calls, you look back and forth between them and the creatures still coming through a few of the remaining rifts, Pumat was still dealing with the the creatures as well and by the looks of things, despite his word of reassurance, he was already having a difficult time.

"You go on ahead, I’ll stay back here and help fend these creatures off!" You call back.

"Are you-"

"Just go!" You shout at them feeling a strong sense of déjà vu. You shake off the feelings, this wasn’t going to end like last time. The Nein disappear after the devil and with Pumat to aid you the two of you worked to close the few rifts and finish off the remaining cultists and creatures. It had been a long and strenuous battle but you’d done it and you were still alive, you rest yourself against one of the supporting pillars to catch your breath. After a long pause that feels like hours had passed, you feel a feathery touch against your shoulder, looking over at Caduceus who uses a quick Cure Wounds on you, Fjord also makes his way over.

"We want to thank you for everything, we may not have managed as well as we had if not for you." Fjord thanks, handing you a healing potion.

"I suppose that makes us even then." You comment with a cheeky smile happily accepting the potion and putting it to use right away.

"You know, I feel we could really use someone like you on the team, if you’re interested that is." Caduceus offers.

"I appreciate the offer, and though in reality it has been a long time since my last adventure, it still feels like it was only a short time ago to me. I really miss home, and am in dire need for a break, but if you do ever require my assistance in the future I will happily lend my aid to you again. For now I just wish to go home and familiarize myself with the changes that've taken place." You decline the offer as politely as you can, he gives you a nod of understanding. With that you get up, bid them farewell and exit the cathedral, making your way towards an area that’s out of the way before getting to work on a Teleportation Circle, as you're setting it up you think back to your time with this crazy group of adventurers, and while it was short they still made you feel welcome in their own strange ways. In some ways they reminded you of your time with Vox Machina, perhaps that’s why you were able to work with them and come to form a trust with them as quickly as you did, who knew. You finish the last symbol for your spell and the portal opens to the familiar view from inside Allura's tower, it was time to go home so with a deep breath you step through the portal.

Bonus (2 for 1 story):

Reunion

"Are you alright? You're looking quite nervous." Allura asks with slight worry as you walk through the halls of Greyskull Keep.

"I haven’t been home in so long and so much has changed, I just don’t know what to expect or how they’ll react." You admit. She places a hand on your shoulder and gives you a reassuring smile.

"Trust me I don’t think they’ll be expecting this either." You walk up to a set of large double doors.

"And from everything you told me…" You trail off a bit.

"There’s more I missed, but I’m sure they’ll be more then happy to fill you in."

"Okay…" You take a breath and reach for the knob only to pause again. "Why don’t you go in first, and I’ll follow your lead." Allura just gives a soft chuckle and nod before opening the door and heading in. You step back and try to catch your breath wondering why you still felt so nervous. You had to wonder if this was even worth it, a lot had happened and changed since you’d been gone and there was a lingering doubt that your friends might not even care anymore.

"Come in and say hello." You hear Allura's voice muffled through the door. Moment of truth, you steel your nerves and make your way through the door. When you enter you have a look around the room seeing all eyes on you, at first their expressions were blank or shocked so you decide to lighten the mood and give a small smile.

"Hello everyone, it’s been awhile." You say in almost a whisper, already feeling the tears well up in your eyes. The next thing you know your tackled into a hug by a sobbing Keyleth.

"You’re not dead! You’re not dead!" Is all you hear her say through her sobbing. You now return the hug having been able to stabilize yourself and comfort the Archdruid.

"I missed you too Kiki. I’ve missed all of you." You release one arm from her seeing as she wasn't going to let go of you just yet, and feel a slight pressure rest on your shoulder once you do. Craning your neck over you see a raven perched itself on you, you raise your hand and give him a little scratch under his beak as he leans into the touch. You look to the others seeing Vex approach.

"My word darling, you haven’t aged a day since we last saw you. What’s your secret?" She tries to add some minor humour to the situation but you could tell she was holding back some tears, being just as overjoyed as Keyleth.

"Just freeze yourself for a good 20 years or so and it’ll shave off those wrinkles in no time." You lightly chuckle, using your free arm now to offer her a hug. She accepts giving a much shorter side hug to you while the others finally came to their senses and start bombarding you with questions. You do the best you can to answer all of them as well as properly greeting everyone again and exchanging welcoming hugs from them, being lifted off the ground when Grog brought you into an almost bone crushing grip. "As much as I missed you too, I’m still fragile." You wheeze at the goliath.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just been so long." He says, trying and failing to hold back his emotions.

"Right, which reminds me, you must have stories to tell me. I’d love to hear what you’ve all done over the years."

"Oh man, where do we begin? There’s so much to tell." Pike ponders aloud.

"How about we start with what happened after my… departure." You suggest, ready for the day to be filled with stories of their adventures and exploits.

#critical role #critical role & reader #vox machina #vox machina & reader #mighty nein #the mighty nein #mighty nein & reader #nothing romantic here

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ace-oreos · 3 years

Note

I know its impossible for it to have happened but I would like to see some Alpha vs Darth Maul. Like Maul would be like 'oh your one of kenobi's' and Alpha would be like 'i just work for the man but i will absolutely fight you'

I’ve said it many times before and I’ll say it one last time here: anon, you were so very patient and I can’t thank you enough for waiting all these months for me to finish this.

I can safely say the funniest part of writing this was trying to figure out how to put together Maul’s Drama™ and... Alpha’s penchant for avoiding drama by any means necessary. It made writing the dialogue VERY fun XD

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added!): @dudewhynotthis @merspots @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @delta-the-mando @or-te-ka-ra @huitzilinthebudgie3 @a-lil-perspective

By all accounts, the Sith isn’t supposed to be here.

Just my luck, Alpha thinks, and sighs when he remembers Fordo offered to take this one off his hands. It wasn’t worth committing the full strength of Fordo’s squad to this assignment - or so he initially thought. They hadn’t gotten word of hostile Force-users until Alpha reported his findings.

He’d been unpleasantly surprised, to say the least.

Maul and Kenobi have history, if he remembers correctly. Kenobi hasn’t told him the half of it and Alpha really doesn’t care one way or another. He wouldn’t, if he had already devised his own method for killing someone who can very likely predict his every movement.

Really, the only way to get one over on Maul would be to cut off his connection to the Force. There’s no way of doing that, as far as Alpha knows, so this op will require a fair share of ingenuity and a healthy disregard for conventional means of warfare. Some more time wouldn’t go amiss either, but Alpha will have to work with what he has.

So he lets Maul find him. Draws him out now rather than exert energy that could very well be the deciding factor later. He can’t say for sure that Maul is surprised, exactly, but whatever flickers across his face doesn’t look like anger just yet.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” the Sith says slowly, all acid sibilants.

“I suppose you were hoping for Kenobi,” Alpha dismisses. “Tough luck.”

Alpha can put up just as much of a fight as any Jetii, but letting Maul underestimate him could work to his advantage if he plays his cards right. If Kenobi’s teachings are true, the Sith use their anger to guide them. Alpha intends to use that against him.

“So he sent you in his place, is that it?”

“The general couldn’t be bothered with the likes of you,” Alpha is more than happy to inform him. “He’s beaten you once already. Why waste energy proving it again?”

That strikes a nerve. The Force might not be part of Alpha’s arsenal, but he can read the rage in Maul’s expression all the same. Better to tread cautiously now; provoke Maul too soon, and the force of his anger will be too much for Alpha to redirect.

The Sith is examining him closely. “You must be one of Kenobi’s, then.”

Alpha shrugs. “Not exactly, but for our purposes - you could say so.”

“You feel no loyalty to him?” Maul asks slyly like that will get under Alpha’s skin.

“Depends on the day.” Alpha lets his hand drift casually to his blaster. “If you’re looking for a fight, I’d be happy to fill in. Like I said, Kenobi couldn’t care less about - ”

True to his intuition, Maul’s first attack isn’t based in the Force. He’s faster than Alpha anticipated, but he manages to dodge the headlong strike. Maul pivots, and a double-bladed lightsaber appears in his hands.

Maul is fast - Alpha just has to be faster.

Evasion isn’t Alpha’s usual style, but he recognizes the necessity given the threat he’s facing. It’s no use trying to get a round past Maul’s saber; it would likely be deflected back at him anyways.

And there’s no way Alpha can pull this off if he and the Sith are on equal footing. But if he can make the environment work to his advantage - if he can force Maul onto the wrong foot and seize that opportunity when it arises - he just might have a chance.

Still, Maul isn’t sloppy enough that an opening will appear without some coaxing on Alpha’s end. It’ll mean sacrificing discipline for whatever works in the moment, but he decides it’s justifiable given the payoff.

Even as he stays in motion he’s careful not to expend more energy than is strictly necessary. It’s just as well Jango was never one for fancy footwork; Alpha doesn’t get caught up in anything of the sort now. Eventually, however, Maul catches on and pulls back, eyeing him.

“Kenobi’s lessons weren’t lost on you, I see.”

Alpha lets him talk, mind racing all the while. The compound’s labyrinthine layout could give him an edge - he’ll just have to do what he can to avoid getting crossed up along the way. But there’ll be risks no matter what; it’s just a matter of choosing the approach that will leave him the most room to adapt.

Just as Maul begins another pass with his saber, Alpha sends a few well-placed shots towards the Sith's feet and makes a break for a doorway just off Maul’s left shoulder.

Something collides with the wall dangerously close to his head, aided by the Force. Alpha ducks away instinctively but doesn’t look back. The first corridor is narrow; the second opens up to a catwalk that overlooks a wide hangar several meters below.

He doesn’t have time to plant charges around the doorframe. It’s a shame, really - even the Force wouldn’t reveal detonators. But no use lamenting what he can’t have; Maul isn’t far behind.

Alpha doesn’t much like the thought of getting caught on the catwalk, either, but there’s no other route out of this section of the compound. At least it’s stable; he doesn’t like to think what could happen if he didn’t have secure footing.

He’s nearly halfway across, just starting to think he might’ve pulled this off when something slams into him from behind and he’s plunging towards the hangar floor in an uncontrolled fall, fighting blind panic.

It’s sheer dumb luck that his rappel line catches something solid. He clutches at the taut line, muscles shaking with exertion and a fresh wave of adrenaline. Regaining a clearheaded state of mind is a conscious effort made all the more difficult by the realization that for all the Sith underestimated him, it’s painfully clear that Alpha badly underestimated Maul.

With the catwalk no longer an option - he’ll only be walking straight into the onslaught - Alpha draws a steadying breath and lets himself fall. The breath is knocked from his lungs when he hits the ground, but he manages to roll with the impact.

One glance towards the catwalk confirms Maul intends to follow him. Before the Sith’s feet hit the floor, Alpha fires. Maul is nowhere near defenseless, but splitting his concentration between fending off Alpha’s attack and manipulating the Force is the closest he’ll get.

The first shot clips Maul’s shoulder; the second hits home center mass. Knocked back by the force of impact, Maul’s landing is graceless and uncoordinated. Alpha presses his advantage, aiming for vulnerable joints.

Another round sears Maul’s arm. He snarls and switches his blade to his other hand. Despite Alpha’s best efforts, a few more steps and he’ll be too close for comfort.

Alpha risks a glance at the catwalk. After Maul’s attack, it’s unlikely it’ll hold up under additional strain. He still has a few detonators on hand, and given their positioning…

The explosion rocks the hangar. Shards of metal pepper the hangar floor, and the catwalk begins to buckle. Sheets of metal tear away and plummet to the ground.

Alpha throws himself aside, narrowly avoiding being crushed. Maul isn’t so lucky. Another section of the catwalk crashes down, and the Sith disappears beneath the metal.

The hangar is oddly silent now; the ragged gasps seizing Alpha’s chest are suddenly deafening. He half expects Maul to explode out of the wreckage, enraged, but there’s no sign of movement.

Time to pull out.

Traveling to the nearest Republic outpost will take the better part of a day, but they’ve got reinforcements and his ride out of here. And if the rumors are to be believed, Fordo and his squad are just a star system away. Navigating through Separatist-infested territory will no doubt be slow going, but if he has to he can hold out until -

And suddenly a vice tightens around his throat and he claws at his neck instinctively, his free hand scrabbling for a hold on his knife, lungs aching as he struggles to breathe, and Maul proves to be very much alive, looming over Alpha, lightsaber in hand once again.

Even as Alpha’s vision threatens to fade - he can’t breathe - it registers distantly that Maul is within arm’s length. There’s a knife sheathed on Alpha’s belt - there’s a slim chance he can - if he could just -

Maul steps closer.

Alpha drives his knife up and in and doesn’t let go until it sinks to the hilt. Maul is howling, the hangar echoing with the animalistic scream, and the blur of red at the edge of Alpha’s vision streaks closer -

And then the pressure on his neck abruptly loosens. He curls into himself instinctively, coughing as he struggles to draw air into his lungs. The telltale hum of lightsabers drowns out Maul’s snarling; Alpha can’t help thinking that at least if he dies here, he’ll die on his feet. Not the death he’d have preferred, but -

“Easy, Captain.” A gentle pressure on his shoulder accompanies the familiar voice, and Kenobi’s face comes into view. He’s smiling, somehow, as though he couldn’t be bothered with the ongoing duel behind him. Of course Skywalker is here too; where his Master goes, he goes.

There’s a story behind that, no doubt, but Alpha has a feeling everything will be divulged in due time.

_____________

“Well, you certainly took your time, General,” Alpha grumbles with a halfhearted attempt at exasperation after Kenobi is done detailing exactly how he and his Padawan ended up here when they were expected at the Temple.

“We made a few detours along the way,” Kenobi answers, flashing his Padawan a wry look that suggests those detours were likely not by their design.

Skywalker decidedly ignores his Master’s remark and instead says, “So now what?”

Alpha sighs. “Maul escaped, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“And?”

“And you’re not going after him,” Kenobi declares, correctly interpreting the look on Skywalker’s face and the set of his shoulders.

“We don’t know what kind of reinforcements he might have,” Alpha points out. “Or where he is now, for that matter.”

“And some of us need medical attention,” Kenobi adds with a pointed look at Alpha.

“It’s nothing serious,” Alpha says, more out of habit than anything as he knows full well his protests fall on deaf ears.

“Alpha...”

“I’ve had worse,” he insists. “Sir.”

“Humor me,” Kenobi says with enough of an edge to his voice that Alpha understands the words are not open for interpretation. “I’m sure this won’t be the last we see of him.”

“Do me a favor, then, General.”

“Oh?”

“Next time you run into him, knock his shebs to haran and back.”

Kenobi smiles. “I’ll see what I can do, Captain.”

#alpha-17 #alpha 17 #darth maul #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #the clone wars #star wars #thanks for the prompt!#i know it took me way too long to write this #but I'm open to more!

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mdawritings · 3 years

Text

Wanna Be Yours: Ch. 5

I.V

Masterlist

Content warning: smut, daddy kink... you've been warned

"You almost ready, Einstein?" Katie calls from the other side of the door. You hurriedly slather on another layer of concealer on the fading bruise on your neck. It’s still pretty god awful after your meeting with Hotch yesterday. The deep purple splotch is the only one visible because it’s right smack under your jawline. It’s been hell trying to hide it from Katie. If she saw it, she would inevitably get curious and since you spend almost every moment together, you couldn’t simply lie and tell her that you had hooked up with someone randomly yesterday.

"We’re going to be late! You’re just asking for the sexy professor to yell at you!" She teases and knocks again on your door. You roll your eyes at the nickname for Hotch and scramble to pick out some clothes.

"I’m coming, just one more minute!" You glance over yourself in the mirror. You smooth out your skirt. It’s the only other skirt you own and it’s definitely not daytime appropriate. It’s a matte black fake leather skirt. Turns out, you did indeed rip the seams in your skirt the other day when you were busy on your knees. You hurriedly pull on some sheer black tights, tuck your shirt into the skirt and slip on your boots.

"Y/n, I swear to god-" Just as Katie is about to yell at you again you swing the door open, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"No more yelling. I’m ready," You shake your head at her and move around her in the door frame.

"You look… nicer than usual," Katie teases and hands you a to-go cup of coffee. "Dressing up for someone special?

Your heart picks up in pace, thinking about how Hotch will react to your attempt to dress up for him. It worries you, how desperate you are to impress him. It’s not out of character for you to seek validation from respected figures, but you’ve never been one to seek validation through looks or appearance. That’s not to say you’re not good-looking, because you know you are. But you don’t pride yourself on being the hottest, most attention-grabbing woman in a room.

Just over two weeks ago, you were hoping for attention from Professor Hotchner, but not this kind of attention. You want him to shower you with compliments in relation to your hard work, your intellect, your drive. You want to know you’re the star student. It’s obvious, you’re the smartest student in the class. He’s made that clear to you. But he holds you to such a high standard. It’s as if your work will never be good enough for him. That would normally anger you, but this new, more personal kind of attention has distracted you from the intense standards he has for you. You love that he can’t get enough of you. He can’t keep his hands off of you.

Sleeping with your professor was never something you necessarily dreamed about or fantasized. You had exes try and role play with you but it never really turned you on. This new fling with Hotch has made you truly understand the appeal.

The idea that he can’t resist you. He’s so into you he has to have you. The stolen glances in class. He’s risking everything. His career, his job, his standing as a professor, all just to sleep with you. Just to have you. That’s how irresistible you are to him. And damn, that makes you feel good about yourself. But it feels as if you’ve sacrificed your need for respect for unbridled, animalistic passion.

"Huh?" You glance over at Katie, realizing you’ve ignored her question, losing yourself in your thoughts of Hotch, "No. No one special."

"Not even Charlie?" She smirks over at you, smiling behind her coffee cup like a giddy school girl.

You feel your face growing hot, "Charlie? No, I’m… I’m over that."

"Over that?" Katie stops in her tracks and latches a hand onto your arm, "When were you ever," She pauses, "On that?"

You laugh at her word choice and shake your head, "He’s cute! And really sweet to me and smart and we have really good conversations and—"

"So then why are you ‘over that’! He’s always finding ways to touch you casually," Katie throws an arm around your shoulders, imitating Charlie. You roll your eyes. If only she knew about your extracurricular activities with a certain ‘sexy professor.’

"I don’t know." You shake your head, "He’s just so… So unfocused. Don’t get me wrong, he’s smart, he really is. But I need someone driven like me. I need someone who understands my mind." Katie rolls her eyes and lets out a small scoff at you.

"I’m not saying you have to marry the dude, but you have an opportunity for a very," She wags her eyebrows as you open the door to the lecture hall, "Very fun time in bed with him."

You laugh boisterously at Katie as you step into the classroom. The class is loud, every student talking and socializing with those around you. Your eyes land on Hotch. He’s leaning against the whiteboard at the front. You swear you can see his eyes widen as they run up and down your figure. You give a smirk and turn your attention back to Katie.

"If you like him so much, you can sleep with him," You put your stuff down by a seat at the front. Katie takes the seat next to you like always.

Something about knowing you’ve caught Hotch’s attention is empowering you. You’re feeling bold. You keep your focus on Katie as she rambles on about your social activities. "This isn’t about me. This is about you, Einstein. And you? You need to get laid. I’m sure that Charlie would be more than willing to be that man for you."

"Katie!" You scold her and shove her arm playfully. You glance around to make sure that Charlie hasn’t heard any part of your conversation. He glances up from his friend to give you a small wink and a wave. As you take your seat, you bring your eyes back to Hotch. His brows have furrowed, his arms crossed against his chest. You give him another smirk and lean back in your chair, parting your legs just enough that it’s clear your actions aren’t innocent.

He clears his throat, "Alright everyone, quiet down. Time to get started." His eyes flick back to you. He gives you a glare that says ‘behave’ but you simply lean back a little more in your chair, parting your legs just enough to draw his attention. You see his line of sight travel down and you swear you hear him stumble over a word or two as he starts today's lecture.

——————————

Hotch has never been much of a fan of teasing. He likes to be in control. And looking at the way you’ve parted your legs, the black leather tightly clinging to your skin, and the devious sparkle in your eyes, he knows exactly what you’re attempting to do, and he’s not amused.

A mix of frustration, irritation, and desire bubbles inside of him with every passing minute he looks at you. He tears his eyes away from your velvety figure, pushing his attention onto the 50 other students in the class. He tries his best to hide the growing heat in his body but he practically lets out a groan when he looks back over to see the way that you’re pressing the end of your pen to your plump lower lip.

Hotch stumbles over his words for a second, seeing that damnable smirk of yours quickly growing as he does. There’s only one word he can think best describes you right now: wicked. Your whole demeanor, your outfit, it all reminds him just how much he hates being teased. He wants to grab you by the front of your shirt and take you over his knee, show you just how much he won’t tolerate such wicked behavior. He hates that he’s let you affect him, have some sense of power over him.

Just as he’s regaining his composure, you lean a little forward, flashing your cleavage in his direction. "Miss Y/L/N," He has to avert his eyes from you, not sure how he could possibly hold himself together while you look like that, "You mind giving a small summary of the facts of the case I’ve just discussed and its importance in the context of the history of criminal law and the state of the country at the time of the court’s decision."

"Oh not at all," You pause, "Sir." You give a small nod. He’s hoping to trip you up. Hopefully, you’ve been so distracted by your cunning little charade that you haven’t paid attention to his lecture. He’s hoping to regain some sense of power back. If he can remind you just how quickly he can embarrass you, he’ll feel less powerless.

To his surprise, however, you begin reciting an eloquent and complete response to his questioning. He mentally curses you. He’s not sure why he expected anything less from you. His mistake is underestimating just how powerful your mind is. You’re utterly intolerable. A wicked mind and a wicked little body. How is he supposed to remain composed?

"Was that enough? To your satisfaction, Sir? Or shall I go on longer?" That knowing little smirk hasn’t left your face and Hotch shakes his head.

"Good enough, Miss Y/L/N," It feels like the glow of his cheeks and the lustful look in his eyes will give him away to the rest of the lecture hall. He’s almost positive that every student can sense exactly what’s going on and that simply cannot stand. "Try to wipe that blank look off your face and at least pretend to be engaged in the lecture." He scoffs before forcing his attention back to the prepared lecture.

You don’t pull any more stunts the rest of class but just your appearance is enough to drive him wild. His head feels as if it's in a haze. Hotch isn’t even really quite sure how he manages to get through the lecture. He decides to dismiss everyone a few minutes early but he can’t let you get away with such utterly unacceptable behavior.

"Miss Y/L/N," Hotch calls from the front of the room as the entire class begins to pack up and file out. He gives a small gesture of his fingers to tell you to come to the front before pointing down at the ground.

Katie gives you a confused look and Hotch sees you mumble something to her as she glances between the two of you, hesitating a little before finally leaving

————————

You’re not sure whether or not to be terrified or proud. It’s clear your actions have gotten your professor’s attention. It’s also clear that he’s frustrated and/or upset. You gather up your books and throw your bag over your shoulder, making your way over to Hotch’s desk.

His eyes dart around the classroom as the last few students file their way out the door. In a blink, his hand grabs at the front of your shirt, yanking you close to him, "What the hell was all of that?"

You smirk. As soon as he grabs your shirt, you know he’s not actually angry with you. "Have I done something wrong, professor?" You glance up at him. Your tone is innocent but your body language tells a different story. You press your pillowy breasts into his chest and place your hands on his shoulders, attempting to brace yourself.

"I can’t wait a full week to see you," He mutters under his breath. You feel his hands ghosting over your body. He wants to touch you. His hands are itching to feel your skin, to take your warm skin in his hands. He wants to feel your lips moving with his. You want his touch. The feeling of his rough hands running over your body. "Come with me to my office now," You hear an almost pleading tone in his voice.

You smirk, his lips inching closer to yours every second, "I have plans. Sorry."

A low groan erupts from his throat but he tears himself away from your tempting, enchanting form. You feel him slide something small into the palm of your hand and you glance down at it, his messy scrawl is a series of numbers.

He walks around to grab his briefcase, packing up the classroom, "It’s my number."

You’re a bit confused, assuming that your interactions wouldn’t be more than just the weekly meetings and every day in class. He’s not some schoolboy crush that you’re going to call on a Friday night, sitting on your bed, your feet in the air, giggling and laughing to yourself over the phone with him, arguing about who will hang up first. He’s a man. A much older one at that. He’s over 10 years older than you. This isn’t a silly little flirtation. It’s rough, it’s messy. It’s purely physical and animalistic.

When Hotch looks up at you, he can sense the confusion in your expression at the gesture, "I’m not saying we’re going to talk on the phone each night but you know… just in case I have to get in contact with you."

You almost laugh at the diplomatic way he’s going about this, "Right. Well, I’ll put the number in my phone in case of an emergency." Now your word choice brings you to the brink of laughter.

In case of an emergency? What kind of emergency? An emergency booty call?

You turn away from him with a small nod and walk towards the door but he calls out stopping you, "Miss Y/LN,"

You turn back and Hotch stands at the desk, running his eyes languidly down your figure, taking it all in one last time, "Pull a stunt like that again and you’ll be sorry." He quirks a brow in disapproval.

"It won’t happen again, sir," You grin.

"And wipe that smirk off your face," He rolls his eyes. You press your lips tightly together, struggling to hide your pride as you leave the classroom.

You meet Katie outside the lecture hall. She stands up straight, pulling away from the wall she was leaning against. Just as you open your mouth to explain to her you feel an arm swing around your shoulder, pulling you close to a warm body.

"You get in trouble again, Einstein?" You’re pressed close to Charlie and you can feel his voice rumbling in his chest as he speaks.

"You know actually," You turn his arms to look up at him. He keeps his arm wrapped around you, holding you close so that when you turn, your chest presses against his. Your face is much closer to his than expected, "It’s none of your business."

Charlie glances down at you, a boyish smirk plastered across his face, "I like the new look," He grins and looks over your outfit. Katie lets out a small laugh and shakes her head at the two of you.

"Don’t be creepy, Charlie." She walks closer to the two of you.

"I’m not! I’m being genuine, I think you look really nice, Y/N," Charlie lets you go but wraps his free arm around Katie’s shoulder, bringing her in close to him as well. You laugh at the image of the three of you, Charlie’s arms around each of you, all laughing animatedly.

"Mr. Miller, I don’t mean to interrupt such an utterly enthralling conversation, but I do need to get to my office at some point." When you turn around you see Hotch standing in the doorway, that you, Katie, and Charlie have managed to block. His head is tilted slightly down as he scours at the three of you. Well, there goes his good mood.

"Sorry, sir," Charlie’s voice is soft and small as he releases his grip on Katie so she can move to the right, but keeps an arm wrapped around you, pulling you to the left so that you all move out of Professor Hotchner’s way.

You feel Hotch’s eyes linger on you for a second before he goes storming down the hallways to his office.

"I swear to god that man is the devil spawn," He shakes his head, twirling a ring around his finger.

"He’s not that bad," You roll your eyes, pulling your bag up on your shoulder.

"Not that bad? Einstein, I’m pretty sure he hates you more than me if that’s even possible." Charlie teases, dragging you down the hallway with him and out into the cold outdoors.

You shake your head with a laugh and lean into Charlie’s arms out in the cold, Katie trailing close behind you, "It’s fine. I can take it."

"So what are our plans for tonight, ladies?" Charlie glances back at Katie behind the two of you who simply responds with a little shake of her head.

"Our plans," Katie pulls you out of Charlie’s grip and you laugh, feeling a rag doll being pulled between the two of them, "Are to watch a movie and get drunk in our apartment."

"Sounds like fun," He grins.

"Aw too bad you’re not invited," Katie gives him a small little pouty face.

"I never agreed to getting drunk," You shake your head, "It’s a Thursday and we have class tomorrow. How do you expect me to get through the day if I’m hungover?"

"God you know sometimes you can be such a buzzkill, Einstein."

"Do you ever stop to think that maybe I’m so much younger and smarter and more successful than you two because I work hard?" Your words might seem harsh but it’s just how you interact with your friends. You all tease each other, make fun of one another.

"Yeah, yeah we know, high IQ, blah blah blah, you’re basically a kid genius," Charlie rolls his eyes.

"Well, kid genius," Katie chuckles, "Could you just humor me? One or two drinks?"

"The things I do for you."

————————

Katie was not joking when she said she was planning on getting drunk because she’s already finished off a bottle of wine herself and you’re barely halfway through the movie you two are watching together.

Your phone buzzes on the couch and you reach for it, flipping it open to see a text from Hotch. You furrow your brows slightly and read the message.

What are you doing tonight?

You bite your lip at the message, taking a second to glance over at Katie, whose eyes are glued to the tv screen.

Drinking, watching a movie. You?

The texting feels unnatural. Again, he’s your professor, not some cute 20-something-year-old boy that you casually text on a Thursday night.

Isn’t drinking alcohol illegal at your age?

You roll your eyes at his response. He has so flagrantly demonstrated a lack of respect for rules, aka, not sleeping with students.

Contrary to what you might think of me, I don’t always follow the rules

His responses are rapid. What happened to getting his number in case of emergencies?

I think I prefer you when you listen to instructions.

Where’s the fun in that?

There’s a long pause in which he stops replying. You let out a breath and turn your attention back to Katie, whose eyes are starting to droop closed, the wine bottle tightly wrapped in her clutches.

You reach across her body and pull the bottle away, "Okay drunk-o, time for bed for you. And time to drink some water," Katie lets out a small groan and rolls over on the couch a little. You grab the empty bottles and cans, carrying them to the kitchen to recycle them.

"Einstein!" Katie’s shrill, wine-soaked voice rings throughout the apartment.

"One second, K," You call back, dropping everything into the recycling.

"Who the fuck is A.H. and why is he texting you?" Your heart sinks into your stomach. You let the last few cans clatter into the bin with an aggressive clang before rushing into the living room to snatch the phone out of Katie’s hands.

"Do you have a secret admirer?" Katie wags her brows at you.

"No. You’re drunk. Go to bed." You point at her bedroom like a disapproving mother.

"No, I can’t let you clean everything up by yourself." She stands up, swaying a little as she does. She reaches down for an empty glass but you’re quick to scoop it out of her hand.

"Please just go to bed." You laugh a little, still clutching your phone tightly against your chest, out of her reach.

Katie grumbles out a ‘fine’ before turning and disappearing into her room.

You finally get a chance to steal a look at your texts.

I’m still at work. Meet me at my office. Now.

——————

You teeter back and forth on your toes, waiting outside Hotch’s office. You glance down at your phone again, checking the time. Hotch texted you nearly an hour ago. It’s only been one week and Hotch is already switching up your agreement. You’re not upset about it, you’re actually excited to see him more. You do wonder, whether or not this infatuation he has with you will soon fade. Will he get bored of you? Will he realize that the initial attraction was all physical, nothing more than a few slip-ups? You know there’s more to you than just appearances, but does he know that?

You let out a long drawn-out breath, flipping open your phone to look at the time again. If he wasn’t going to show, he should’ve let you know. You take one step away from the office door when Hotch catches your arm to stop you. You let out a small gasp in shock.

"Going somewhere?" Your eyes snap up to his and there’s a hint of a smile playing on his mouth, "You’re not going to bail on me, are you?"

"Me?" You shake your head, "You texted me nearly an hour ago! I’ve been waiting for you."

Hotch sighs and reaches for the key to unlock his office door, leading you inside, his grip still firm on your upper arm. In an instant, Hotch whirls you around, pressing you back against the door, trapping you between it and his body.

"Do you know how impossible it is to be around you all day without touching you?" He inches in closer to you and you can feel his hot breath fan across your face. His lips gently brush against yours. You instinctively lean your head up, wanting to press your lips against his fully. "That little stunt you pulled today?"

Your breathing stutters as his hands roam your whole body, squeezing. Your hot flesh in his hands is pliable and you melt under his touch. "You liked it," You pant out.

His hand comes up to your neck, wrapping around it tightly. He forces your face up so you look at him and he slams your head back against the door, "Don’t be so fucking snippy with me." He growls and yanks you by the neck to press his lips to yours. His mouth is hot and needy. The kiss lasts a long time, one hand still firmly wrapped around your neck, the other tangling in your hair at the base of your neck.

He kisses underneath your jaw before hooking his hands up under your legs and lifting you off the ground. You cling to him tightly, hoping he doesn’t drop you. He slams your back against the wall and you let out a small gasp, both out of pleasure and excitement. "This is what you wanted, right?"

You’re panting heavily already and he’s barely touched you, your skin on fire. "Mhm," You manage to moan out. You’re amazed at how Hotch is still managing to hold you up against the wall. You gasp out as he presses hard against you, spreading your legs widely, pushing up your skirt so it bunches around your hips.

His head buries into your neck, kissing and nipping gently. Both of his hands move to cup your breasts, his palms filling with your warm skin. You let out a loud moan at the touch and Hotch chuckles under his breath at the sound. You grip his shoulders tightly and only manage a small whimper as you clench your thighs together.

Hotch brings his mouth up to meet yours once again, hungrily devouring your moans. You want to tangle your fingers in his hair and tug at it. You want to cup his cheeks and hold him close. He presses even closer to you, leaving no space between his body and yours.

"I can’t stop thinking about this," Hotch groans, pushing your shirt open more, now only holding you up with one arm. You can see the muscles in his arms rippling, the veins protruding. He tugs aside your bra and palms your breast, his rough hands on your velvety skin. He rubs your nipple between his fingers, "Your mouth, your body, us together."

You rock against him, pressing the hardness in his pants against you, eliciting a loud moan from you and a small growl from him at the pleasure you send radiating through him.

Your hands drop to start to undo his belt. He pulls you away from the wall spinning you around to place you on the edge of his desk. You push the fabric of his slacks down and stroke his warm skin. He hisses and grits his teeth in response, pulling away from your kiss to throw his head back.

"Be careful," You smirk, "Someone might hear us, professor."

"Let them." He shakes his head. Hotch’s eyes snap back down to yours and he doesn’t care about anything but pleasuring you. He pulls your mouth back against his and he feels himself consumed by your scent. He reaches down, gripping your thighs in his hands, placing your feet on the edge of the desk, parting your legs wide, all for him.

You slide closer, rubbing yourself against him. You need him. You want him and you’re so fucking tired of waiting. His hand trails between your bodies, rubbing you slowly, dipping just one finger into you, thrusting it ever so slowly.

"Please," You whine and as you throw your head back, Hotch’s mouth clinging to your throat, sucking and biting, kissing over the fading marks from your last rendezvous.

"Please what?" He grumbles against your neck.

"Fuck me," You can barely get the words out before he lifts you up, flips you over onto your stomach and thrusts up into you, in one motion. He thrusts hard and deep and you let out a moan, louder than anything.

Your body moves with his, your hips going back slightly to meet his every thrust. He fills you in just the perfect way and you’re panting and chanting his name, "God yes, sir, just like that."

He reaches around to grab both of your wrists, pinning them behind your back. "You wanted me to do this. To get angry. To take you. Show you, you’re mine, right?"

You struggle to let out a throaty ‘mhm’ in agreement. He keeps your wrists pinned with one hand and grabs your hair, yanking you up.

"That’s why you put on that little show today, right?" He growls close to your ear. You grind your hips back against his, "Use. Your. Words." He demands. He yanks on your hair a little tighter, in an attempt to remind you who has the dominant position.

"Yes!" You whine out, "This is what I wanted!"

"Good girl," His voice has a malicious tone, but not in a way that scares you. It excites you. He’s rough. He’s wild. He’s uncontrollable. And you’re the one who makes him feel that way. That’s powerful.

You arch back, your chest pressing against the wood on his desk. Hotch keeps your wrists pinned tightly behind your back as he pounds into you relentlessly. He bottoms out with every thrust, which leaves you struggling to cry out with pleasure. You cry out senselessly, every muscle in your body trembling, "Fuck daddy!" The words tumble out of your mouth and you barely take notice of them, your eyes rolling back in your head as you do.

"Did you just call me daddy?" Hotch releases your wrists to bend down and grab your neck. He wraps a large hand almost entirely around the base of your throat and yanks you up, your back pressed fully against him.

"Sorry," You attempt to moan out as Hotch continues to fuck you harder.

"Don’t apologize, pretty girl," He groans against your ear, "Say it again."

"Fuck, daddy!" The pace increases into something animalistic. Your body is shaking wildly at this point and you feel the pleasure building steadily, surging through you with every thrust. You feel his grip on your wrists loosening as his palms grow sweatier.

It’s not long before you’re tightening around him, desperately wishing for something to grab onto. You’re squirming under his touch, the pleasure almost too much as he barrels into you. You come hard and fast and he continues to fuck you through it, yanking you up against him again, a hand wrapped tightly around your throat.

He thrusts into you a few more times and you’re practically crying out in response, your eyes watering, tears running down your cheeks at the overstimulation. He soon comes to a halt, shuddering and groaning, throwing his head back as he releases into you. He lets you down back onto the desk gently, your overheated damp skin contrasting against the cold, smooth wood.

You lie there a second, attempting to catch your breath and steady your heart rate. You feel Hotch press a small tender kiss along your shoulder blades and spine and it’s oddly comforting. "That’s it pretty girl." He says against your skin. He helps you sit up, "I knew you could take it."

You wipe your face, attempting to clean any smudged makeup but you know you must look a mess. Your eyes are glossy and your face is flushed. Your hair is a knotted mess from where he’s tangled his fingers into it. You right yourself, fixing your skirt, tucking your shirt back in.

There’s a long drawn-out moment of silence where you glance at Hotch awkwardly, not sure what you would say to him now. It’s odd how you two are so intimately equated with each others’ bodies but you feel flustered just speaking to him. "I guess I’ll… head home." You smile softly.

You start towards the door but Hotch stops you, "You shouldn’t-" He sighs and grabs his briefcase from the desk, "You shouldn’t walk home alone. It’s dark outside."

"I live just one or two blocks from campus, I should be fine," You shrug, "Plus I’m sure you want to get home. You’ve been working all day."

Hotch rolls his eyes and practically pushes you out of his office as he shuts the lights and locks up, "Stop being so stubborn and just let me walk you home."

You simply shut your mouth and nod, knowing there’s no point in arguing with him over this. You walk out of the building, Hotch walking alongside you.You wrap your arms around yourself as you step out into the cold, a small shiver running through you.

"You should’ve brought a jacket," Hotch nods slightly at your shivering.

"I didn’t really think to grab one when I was rushing out the door," You tease. Hotch smiles in response and the conversation comes to a lull as you both walk alongside one another. You glance down for a second to see Hotch rubbing his fingers together at his side. It’s something you’ve seen him do a few times, whether it’s while he’s lecturing or when he's focused or when he’s reading. "You do that a lot." You uncross one of your arms to point down at his hands. "That thing with your fingers. You rub them together."

He glances down at his hands and gives a small shrug of his shoulders, "It’s just something I do, I guess."

"It’s how I know you’re really focused on something," You nod letting silence take over once again. You try to focus on the sound of your shoes on the pavement or steadying your breathing. Your heart is beating fast. It always is around Hotch.

"That’s good," Hotch speaks suddenly. It’s as if he was having a conversation with himself before speaking out loud, "Being observant. It’s a good quality for a lawyer."

"How so?" You glance over at him, eyes trailing over every single facial feature. You smile at the way the cold air has given his cheeks a slight pink tinge. The wind tousles the little hairs at the top of his head.

"Being able to observe and understand your opponent’s behavior. The jury’s behavior," He nods, "you need to know what flusters people, what trips them up. You need to know their tells, their weaknesses, their strengths. If you can understand and observe the behavior of all the people in that courtroom… you have full control over them."

"So by analyzing behaviors… you gain some sense of how to control people," You nod, reciting back to him. There’s a pause in conversation again. "Do you know my behaviors?"

A wide smirk starts to spread across Hotch’s face, "Yes. I know when you’re angry, or when you’re focused. I can tell when you’re…" He trails and glances down your figure, "Excited. I know what makes you feel good."

You feel the heat rising up your neck and into your face. Suddenly the cold air isn’t as biting anymore. "Care to share any of these behaviors of mine?"

"I’m pretty sure you said it yourself earlier… something along the lines of ‘where’s the fun in that?" He laughs and you give his arm a nudge.

Another pause. You’re nearly a block from your apartment, do you just give up and resign yourself to silence?

"What’s your favorite color?" You blurt out and turn to look at him.

"My favorite… what?" He laughs and shoves his hands deeper into his pants pockets, "Are you serious?"

"Fine, nevermind." You shrug, "I’m just trying to get to know you."

"By asking about my favorite color?" There’s a judgmental tone to his voice but when you look over his face, that small hint of a grin lingers.

"I said nevermind," You stop in place and nod up at your apartment building. "Well… this is my stop." You joke. You feel a strong urge to stick your hand out to shake his which would be incredibly awkward, but you’re not sure what kind of send-off is appropriate. A goodnight kiss is simply far too intimate and a hug is too friendly. You settle for an uncomfortable nod and tight-lipped smile, "Good night Hotch."

"Aaron," He nods, "You can call me Aaron."

Your cheeks ache from smiling so hard. You give one last look before walking up the steps to the front door of your building.

"Hey, Einstein," Aaron calls out and you freeze in your place a little. Something about hearing that nickname come out of his mouth is incredibly endearing. You turn to him, "Blue."

"What?" You furrow your brows at his words.

"My favorite color. It’s blue." He smiles. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, suppressing your smile.

"Good night, Aaron," You repeat and open your door.

"Good night, Einstein."

Chapter 6: I.VI →

#aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch #hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotcher x y/n #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #wanna be yours fanfic

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a-monsters-love · 4 years

Text

Spice

[Master List]

Art credit goes to: @ianterweb -- [Original Post]

Bakugo x Reader

Warnings: swearing (obvi it’s Bakugo), blood, a drop of gore (not in a stomach churning way), toy guns, implied pining, spoilers if you haven’t watch season 4, mentioned of death, Slow Burn

Genre: angst, fluff, combat

Word count: 12k

Time Line: I extended the timeline around between the provisional licensing exam and the work study program, part of me doesn’t think irl they’d just thrown out of the frying pan and into the fire.

A/N / Inspiration: So I rewatched ATLA and honestly I really wanted a Ty Lee styled reader for this, like just upbeat and positive but irl she’s got demons. Also I fully believe Ty Lee could kick Bakugo’s ass, no one can change my mind. I firmly believe he needs an S/o who can just whoop his ass, part of me thinks that’s the only way he’d ever accept a crush or a relationship.

*So like, if (y/n) fought like Ty Lee who uses Tai Chi and Dim Mak (loosely translates to “Touch of Death” but we know it as chi blocking)

*All Tai Chi and Yoga pose names I fully researched

*don’t @ me for this but because their classes only carry 20 students I’m sacrificing our sweet boy Rikido Sato (code name: Sugarman) b/c I haven’t seen enough of his character to know how to write him :L #TheProverbialSacrificialGoat

(Y/N) = Your Name

(Y/N/N) = Your Nickname

(L/N) = Last Name

(H/C) = Hair Color

(S/C) = Skin Color

(E/C) = Eye Color

(H/L) = Home Land i.e country of origin

——————

“Listen up.” Aizawa Sensei announced to the class dropping a book on his podium, gathering the classes attention he lazily sighs before speaking again. “As you’ve all noticed we still have an empty seat in the back of the class,” He points his hand in the general direction. “Moving forward, I have to introduce you to a new student to the class.” On cue the classroom door slides open, you walk in calmly despite your excitement. Your (H/C) hair is pulled up into a neat bun with your bangs clipped to the side, the only addition to your uniform being a pair of half palmed white gloves, you can feel everyone’s eyes scanning over you as you waltz in. “This is (L/N) (Y/N), I’ll let her introduce herself.” He finished as he stepped into his sleeping bag.

You glanced over at your new teacher, quickly understanding what kind of person he is before looking back at the class. “Hello, please feel free to call me (Y/N/N).” You giggle softly, “I just moved to Japan from (H/L) and it’s my understanding you guys have been together for sometime so I‘ll be in your care.” You smiled sweetly and gave a delicate bow.

“You’ll be sitting behind Koda,” He pointed to the obvious empty seat, “Between Ochaco and Shoto.” Aizawa Sensei made little effort to discern the two. “(Y/N) has already been moved into the dorms so I expect everyone to do their part in helping her get settled.”

You only smiled as you made your way to your desk, shaking hands and giving polite greeting to your new desk mates. The girl beside you made quick work of making friends with you, the boy in front of you was extremely shy but made his own effort to wave back at you. You listened in on the class as the morning babble began, whispers in curiosity and a few waves and smile. You can feel a creepy gaze that made your skin crawl and heard a single but loud tongue click. “Another extra.” You heard him groan, the comment only made you snort a bit before the lecture started.

You took color coded notes based off theme and what you decided or Aizawa Sensei said was important. Ochaco whispered about how cute your notes are causing you to whisper and explain why you did it. You noticed the way Shoto listened in on your organization explanation when you silently offered him a red and green pen. He took them both gratefully and confused at your action before deciding to make his own version of you system. When first period was over your desk was swarmed by your new classmates.

You smiled brightly as they all introduced themselves when a boy, who introduced himself as Iida, tried to dispel the mob. “No-no it’s okay, we have plenty of time to get acquainted anyway.” You reassured him bashfully as the slimy kid, who introduced himself as Mineta, got a little too close for comfort. You took great pleasure in watching the pink girl grab him by the ankle and drop him in the trash.

It was then that you heard a soft and almost awkward voice, “Can I ask what your quirk is?” Asked the green haired boy, Izuku is what someone called him.

“Of course!” You beamed, his clear anxiety from the question washes away as he pulled out a beat up notebook. “My quirk is called Molecular Regeneration, so basically Healing+, from what Aizawa-Sensei explained to me this morning I’ll be able to fully show everyone during gym.” You scanned over the group and motioned for Denki to come over. “I can heal little things like this pimple-“ You removed a glove and tapped his skin, fading the pimple away. “To great wounds, within reason of course. I have to eat a ton of food for the carbs, fats, proteins and all the extra good stuff if I use my quirk excessively but it’s a trade off I’m happy to make.” You put your glove back on and rubbed the back of your neck as you watched Izuku beam and start spiraling as he took notes. One of the other students explained that he does that often.

——

During gym everyone was paired up to fight, for practical and strategical purposes. Everyone gasped when Aizawa paired you up with Bakugo, saying it was cruel and you were new. You giggled at their concern, knowing full well that you could and have taken the blunt of an actual bomb and come out fine. Well fine-ish. “I paired them up purposely because I know he’ll be able to go all out and she’ll be fine.” He droned at his gaping students.

Each pair took turns, you watched everyone fight, analyzing their fighting styles noting where they went wrong. Your mother was a trained martial artist so you learned at a young age to do this. When your turn arrived you were excited to finally get up. You decided to take off your shoes as the boots you were provided weren’t practical for how you fought. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you’re a girl.” Bakugo hissed.

You just smiled widely, “I’d be insulted if you did.” You chuckled, stretching a bit before getting into the Brush Knee starting position, legs spread slightly with a bent knee, one palm flat towards the ground and the other raised facing the boy. You looked relaxed, which seemed to anger him. As Aizawa blew his whistle he was quick to charge, when he got close you slapped his inner wrist the back of each hand. This pushes his arms to his sides as you twist around him and aggressively push on his spine with your palm causing him to falter forward. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you’re a boy.” You teased at him, the face he made was that of confused rage.

“You think you can beat me with a few slaps?” He chided, earning a laugh from you as he charged again.

“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.” You snorted.

His wrists sparked as he aimed to use his quirk on you, “We’ll see about that.” You could almost hear amusement in his voice as he made a circle out of one hand and shot exploding bullets at you. You barely managed to dodge as you pushed yourself into a backhand spring, you confused him when you used your arms to push towards him.

He went to use and exploding hand to punch at you as you jabbed repetitively at his quirk fueled arm. His explosion dissipating as his arm went limp. “I suppose we will.” You beamed close to his face before failing to see the swift kick he struck your side with, easily throwing you from your close proximity. You chuckled a bit with a small cough as you skidded in the distance, didn’t see that coming.

“What the fuck did you do to my arm?” He demanded an answer as you ran back and cartwheeled towards him using the propulsion to jump at him, aiming a leg to kick him from the side. Knowing he’d reflexively block the kick when you were close you used your other foot to kick his chin upwards.

Your kick was successful and satisfying, “Dim Mak, also known as Chi Blocking.” When he regained his stance from your kick you jabbed at his other arm causing it to go limp. You stood beside him as he groveled a bit. “And with that~ I think I win, I don’t think it’s much of a fair fight at this point.” You smiled sweetly at him.

Aizawa whistled again to end the match, you grabbed Bakugo’s wrist shaking the limp limb to Aizawa when you heard a pop, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” You quietly warned him still holding his wrist with a smirk but being who he is as a person the hand you held exploded with his quirk.

You heard an audible scream from the class, after the dust dispersed your hand was basically gone. Your radius and ulna bones were cracked and broken poking up from your tattered forearm, blood splattered across both your face and Bakugo’s. All the rage that quelled in his system wiped clean with a guilty and horrified expression, seeing the blood that soaked part of your hair and the mess he created. “Oh fuck, I-“ He started but realized you were still smiling, even as blood dropped down your arm. Aizawa groaned loudly.

“Well, that was… spicy.” You snorted. Within moments the bones started to grow where your hand once was, thick red muscles climbed the bones followed by skin. You were regenerating your hand, you smiled but your gaze was dark as you stared at him. “I told you not to do that.” Using your newly regrown hand you punched him in the side of the face causing him to hit the floor, hard.

“I deserved that one.” He mumbled quietly on the ground, you stood over him smiling smugly.

“Come on, get up and let me fix your arms.” You waved for him to sit up before looking to Aizawa, “I’m leaving early after this for a shower.”

“Please.” He sighed, sending up the next group who were just staring at you in a mix of horror and awe. “We don’t have all day.” Aizawa said.

You sat Bakugo down and sat behind him, almost forcing him to lean his back into your knees and shins. “Alright, Spice, let me fix your nerves.” You removed the glove that didn’t get blow up and pulled at a limp arm, using your quirk to heal the damaged nerves as well as massaging into pressure points to release the tension you forced into his blood stream. He groaned in agony before sighing in relief.

When you were done he rubbed his arms and hands as the prior numbness faded, he looked back at you as you decided to heal the burnt skin on your shoulder and cheek. You smirked when you caught his gaze on you, he ruffled his hair aggressively as he got up and ushered you to follow him. You both needed to head to the dorms to clean up, as you followed behind him you heard him mumble. “I’m sorry.” He earned a chuckle out of you causing him to look back. I just blew up your literal arm to the bones and you were acting like a ray of fucking sunshine, he thought to himself as confusion knitted his brows. “I’m not sure what happened, I didn’t know I could be that lethal.” He admitted almost hissing out the words as if they were painful.

“I’m not mad, Aizawa paired me up with you for that reason.” You shrugged bashfully, “And what happened back there was kinda… mostly my fault..” Your admission seemed to confuse him more. “When I jabbed you’re arms I disrupted your blood flow and by default your quirk. You have a strong one so it essentially grew like an actual bomb and exploded more or less on its own.” He watched you explain, you just hoped he wouldn’t feel too guilty. “Look. If you’re sorry just get me lunch or something, Spice.” You smiled softly at the comment as you finally got to the dorm, making your way to your rooms to grab a change of clothing and then to your respective bathrooms to shower.

Bakugo grumbled over the whole ordeal before settling on the new nickname you’ve given him. Spice. What the fuck is that about, he couldn’t wrap his head around it but he learned quickly that he wouldn’t be able to stop you. You made that clear when you essentially wiped the floor with him, the thought of that made him yell out in frustration. “Stupid girl.” He hissed as he got dressed.

You were waiting for him at the door in a fitted t-shirt and your gym shorts. Flitting through your phone aimlessly, he noticed your usual smile was gone. Replaced with something bored and almost listless, when you noticed him your lips curled at the edges into a soft smile. “Come on, Spice.” You waved for him as you opened the front door.

“Stop calling me that.” He snapped, frustrating that he could tell you wouldn’t.

You snorted with a loud ‘HA’, “Would you prefer Spicy Boy? Blasty? Bomb-dot-com? Oh! What about Limb Remover?”

Bakugo groaned trying to walk faster than you, “No!” He hissed at you, eliciting a hearty laugh from you.

“Spice it is.” You wink as you took lead almost skipping in front of him. He groaned loudly as you joined the rest of your class before gym was over. The two of you bickered back and forth for sometime and you could only laugh at his rising and dwindling frustration. Kirishima joined the conversation, fist bumping the only other person he could imagine withstanding an explosion from Bakugo. You could hear Izuku spiraling behind you and decided to turn a bit to answer his questions. “I’ve never successfully grown other people’s limbs or organs back but I can accelerate growth of, like, hair and finger nails.” You commented to one of his questions. “Though if you’re arm got like cut off cleanly I could potentially reattach it, I imagine it wouldn’t feel the same though.” You scratched at your damp hair that was now down from its bun to dry, your mouth was slanted not quite a frown but it was obvious to anyone that the gears in your head were spinning.

Bakugo just stared at you with half lidded eyes as you spoke, part of him wanted to hiss at Deku to piss off with his nerdy ass research note book. However when you pulled the note book from Izuku’s hands and flitted through it with knitted brows and scold him for the condition of the note book it almost earned you a laugh. Almost. When you asked about the burns on the notebook he was hesitant to answer, “Accidents happen.” Was all he managed, you gave him a raised eyebrow but didn’t pester the topic.

——

At lunch you had lost sight of Bakugo and didn’t think much of it, you were quickly wrangled by the girls of class 1-A as you paid for your meal, they pulled you to a table where you sat with Asui, Ochaco, Shoto, Izuku and Iida. You were quiet listening in on their conversations, providing a comment when needed as you quickly ate your food. You temporarily sated your stomach, knowing you should eat more before your quirk absorbed the contents of your stomach. You got up to put your tray away, running into Bakugo on the way back. “Hey, Spice. I lost you for a minute.” You snickered at him, he just grunted and rolled his eyes. Dragging you back to the lines to get lunch, or in this case a second helping. He didn’t say anything as you waited in line with him, he paid for your meal and made sure you received it before walking off. Waving a lazy hand back at you. “Prideful brat.” You snickered to yourself before rejoining your table.

“What’s all that?” Asui asked.

“Bakugo bought me lunch,” The table gaped at your comment. “As an apology for blowing up my arm.” You said pointedly, “Plus my quirk already started to absorb what I got earlier since I had to regrow a limb.” You half sighed half laughed at the comment. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you guys.” You rubbed your neck, this was a tell for you.

Shoto shrugged, you knew Izuku nerded out on what happened, “We’ve seen scary quirks, yours wasn’t as scary as the situation, kero.” Asui said, Ochaco nodded fervently in agreement.

You sighed in relief and started eating gleefully. This hit the spot, you were grateful to Bakugo even though it was your idea.

——

At the end of the day you followed your class back to the dorms, making quick work to get into your comfy clothes. You wore a short (but not quite cropped) shitty band shirt and a pair of high waisted pajama shorts that were just long enough to keep yourself covered if you stretched. You sat at the bar with a book as you idly watched Momo file through the kitchen. She offered tea which you happily accepted, discussing each of your preferences. You were a big fan of spiced drinks, chai’s more often than not.

Iida made his way to you not too long after with a schedule in hand, it showed everyone’s chores and what days they do them and with whom. He had added you to the schedule, noting that you had been paired with Bakugo on a large handful of occasions. Iida mentioned that you were one of the few who made it clear that you could clearly handle him he decided to rearrange the schedule as such to relieve some stress from your other classmates. You laughed and agreed that it would probably be for the best.

The evening droned on a bit before dinner, you offered to help Izuku and Ochaco in the kitchen since you gave everyone quite the scare earlier. They both happily agreed, you helped out and decided to make a side dish your mom always made at home when you had a bad day. It was simple and it always seemed to cleanse the palate. When you let it simmer you made quick work of pulling out plates to serve at the table, helping Ochaco and Izuku when something started going awry.

When dinner was served and everyone was seated you weren’t sure where to sit until Kirishima dragged you to sit with him, Mina, Denki, Bakugo and Sero. You laughed, figuring you sat with the others at lunch. “Fine, fine, I’ll sit just stop dragging me.” You sat in the middle of the table between Bakugo and Kirishima, who asked loads of questions about your fighting style. “Oh, it’s just Tai Chi.”

“You mean that thing old people do at the crack of dawn?” Denki asked, that’s definitely not what he expected.

You snorted and rolled your eyes, “Yeah, Tai Chi is a form of defensive martial arts that can also be used for meditation.” You ate a bit before continuing. “When used offensively the base principal of it is redirection, our bodies are covered in pressure points that-“ You took a sip of water. “If hit hard enough can fuck up your opponents whole fighting position and quickly turn the tables.”

“You still never explained what you did to my arms.” Bakugo hissed, almost pouting as he ate.

You scoffed, “Yes I did! I told you on the way back to the dorm after you blew up my arm!” You laughed, “I can explain it again if it didn’t make sense, Spice.”

The other boys and Mina snorted at the new nickname, “Please explain,” Sero managed to laugh out.

“Okay. So, the fighting style for that is called Dim Mak, which means ‘Touch of Death’. Essentially I hit all the right pressure points directly to disrupt his blow flow, disabling his arms and quelling his quirk. Well, until the end.” You rubbed your neck bashfully at your mistake. “With Tai Chi you only hit pressure points to redirect, not do damage to the nervous system.”

The other four just laughed, Bakugo just grunted and rolled his eyes as he ate. When they moved to the side dish you made Denki and Sero almost inhaled it. “This is so good, what is it?” Denki asked, knowing you helped in the kitchen.

“Oh, I made that. It’s [Food Name], just comfort food my mom always made for me when I had a bad day. I gave everybody a good scare today so I figured it’s be nice to have.” You shrugged to him nonchalantly, not noticing Bakugo had also made quick work of the dish.

“I’m gonna need seconds of this.” He snorted getting up.

You didn’t say much else while you ate, eating was a reprieve for you. When you finished your dishes you let out a happy sigh. Finally satiated for the day, you leaned over to Bakugo as he finished eating. “You never gave me a chance to thank you for lunch.” You gave him a smile before getting up to clear the table of empty dishes to return to the kitchen.

“Shut up.” He snapped, following your actions as you walked into the kitchen. You hummed at his response, figuring he was too prideful.

“Well, thank you none the less, I would’ve been starved if it weren’t for you.” You snicker, Bakugo just crossed his arms and looked at the time. You heard Mina call for you and ask if you wanted to watch a movie before bed, “Of course!” You call back, “You gonna join us Spice?” Looking back at him with a tired smile.

“No.” He retorted quickly before leaving the kitchen heading towards his dorm, hearing a faint ‘good night’ from you.

You join your new pink friend who loops her arm in yours pulling you to the living room where you sat almost snuggled between her, a pillow and Ochaco. You were cozy enough to fall asleep but every movement either of the girls made roused you. You remembered seeing this movie once, letting you answer a few questions anyone had without spoilers. “Damn,” You mumbled to yourself with a yawn, realizing how tired you actually were. You shook Mina, whispering that you were heading to bed before sliding over the back of the couch. You waved a lazy good night to the others who noticed and headed to your room.

——

The next morning you woke to the sun rising and danced across your eye lids, getting a good pop filled stretch before crawling out of the warm comfort of your blankets. Your morning routine was simple, brush your teeth, sort out your hair, wash your face, down a glass of water, make tea, listen to music and practice your morning yoga and tai chi filled exercises. You decided to wear your gym shorts for stretching; not with a creep like Mineta in the house, you thought storing your pajamas. You walk to the patio out front, enjoying the brisk morning air before setting down your tea on the banister. You had your Bluetooth headphones in and placed your phone on the windowsill. You made basic stretches to loosen up before grabbing your ankles as you bent into a full uttanasana, you stretch up pulling your leg to a natarajasana but pulling your foot closer to the back of your head before switching legs. Continuing this for sometime before starting your Tai Chi, ‘fickle habits lead to fickle lives’ your mother mantra played in your mind frustratingly.

Bakugo has always been the ‘first to bed - first to rise’ type of person. In the dorms this gave him more liberties in the morning, as he had a tendency to walk out of his room to the showers in boxers and maybe a t-shirt most mornings. The last thing he was expecting was to see the electric kettle steaming after it’s obvious use. His eyes darted around, listening keenly to the main lobby of the dorm. He didn’t hear anything inside but spotted a phone outside of the building on the windowsill. Bakugo’s sight narrowed in before realizing he was walking towards it to see who the fuck is outside at this hour, or if someone left it outside on accident. He stepped slowly seeing you stretching on the patio, he couldn’t hear anything but he noticed the device was lit up playing music. Holy shit she’s listening to aggressive rap, he thought spotting the song title. The playlist was labeled ‘✨ GOOD MORNING ✨’ he snorted at the idea of that being morning music, the song changed to some classic punk rock song he recognized. He decided to leave you be, he would never admit it but he absolutely took in the sight of you before shuffling to the bathroom to start his own morning routine.

When you finished your morning routine you made haste to grab your uniform and run to the shower. When you got out you saw Bakugo in the kitchen preparing what you assumed was his breakfast. “Good morning, Spice.” You said sweetly.

You just hear a grunt from him when you sat down to dry your hair properly, “Morning.” You hear him quietly mutter, as he brought out a plate with his breakfast. “Dry your hair properly.” He hissed, you snorted and continued working the dampness from your hair.

Once you were satisfied you finished buttoning your uniform top and tying the tie, you left for a moment to return your towel to its home and pull your hair into a bun. Clipping back your mostly dry bangs as you returned to the lobby, “Whatever you made smells great,” You made your way to the kitchen for a second cup of tea. “Want tea?” You asked in passing. He grumbled something but didn’t say no so you made him a glass anyway, letting them steep as you made your way to your room to grab your book bag. When you got back and the tea had settled you placed a glass in front of the seemingly agitated blonde. Making breakfast for yourself and joined him at the table. You ate and flitted through yesterday’s notes.

Bakugo watched you out of the corner of his eye, you were so casual as if you’d been here the whole time. Something about you frustrated him endlessly, he figured he’d be able to narrow it down later. He begrudgingly accepted the tea, it was spicier than he expected. He wondered if this was a jab at him with the shitty nickname you’d bestowed him with.

—

A couple weeks passed quickly as you adjusted to your life at UA, you spent your early mornings with Bakugo before the other lazily made their way to the lobby, class began, then gym, then lunch, more classes, back to the dorms for a mix of homework and playtime with dinner somewhere in the mix.

One weekend you decided to sleep in, which was a mistake as Mina had invited herself into your room and tackled your sleeping form. Eliciting a great squeal from you and you both ended up on floor with a loud *THUD*. “You know. I’m gonna skip the ‘what is wrong with you’ and go straight for the why, Mina.” You groaned, groveling on the floor at her excited stupor.

“We’re going to the mall! Get up! Get dressed!” She was bouncing at you as you slumped upon the floor, calves still on your bed. “Come ooonnn (Y/N/N)!!”

You snorted at her, “Fine, give me 20 minutes.” With that she was gone as fast as she came, you stood and pulled out your casual clothes you now rarely got to wear. Throwing on a pair of high waisted skinny jeans, a fitted white crop top, a thin burnt amber cardigan that went down to your calves, topped with honey brown softly pointed ankle boots. You left your hair loose aside from pulling your bangs upright to clip them back, providing a small bumped look you could live with. You grabbed your small purse that slings across your shoulders only holding your phone and wallet and a pair of round darkly tinted sun glasses before meeting up with the Bakugang. Mina gaped at your outfit excitedly, all four boys on the other hand just stared. “Too much? It’s just casual wear.” You shrugged and offered a soft but awkward smile.

“Shut up, you look great!” Mina snorted, she wore a loose crop top that hung just above the belt line of her skinny jeans, “You have plenty of time to check (Y/N/N) today idiots, let’s go!” She looped her arm with yours and almost dragging you along.

You never cared to much for shopping, you had what you needed and what you liked but you enjoyed spending time with the Bakugang outside of UA. Mina asked you about what your makeup preferences were and you admitted that you knew little regarding the topic. The boys whined to eat, “I’m always game for food.” You snorted, you were being dragged around more than anything anyway.

You all sat around a table in the mall talking about nonsense, eating your respective lunches. They quickly got used to just how much you ate, much to your relief. When lunch was over the six of you ended up in an arcade, you and Denki played a shooting game with the big plastic colorful guns. Denki grabbed the red plastic cabled hand gun leaving you with the bright orange cabled shot gun. You snorted when he thought he had the better gun. “HOW ARE YOU SO GOOD AT THIS?” He whined as he watched you take shot after shot.

“The keener the eye the better the hero, also my dad was big into hunting back in (H/L).” You chuckled, “Both of my parents are Quirkless so they reveled in what they could.” You quickly beat the game, re-holstering the plastic gun you collect your almost endless stream of tickets. “You can imagine I was a huge surprise for them.” Sero snorted and agreed at your last comment.

You made an abysmal attempt to fold up your tickets when Kirishima pulled you into some game him and Bakugo were playing. You were sure the blonde would get you guys kicked out as he seemed to be intent on destroying the game itself. You laughed loudly at him yelling “DIE!!” And “I’LL KILL YOU!!” At the console. Mina pulled you to play skee-ball next to them, you made for a mediocre game as you couldn’t stop laughing at Bakugo’s video game rage.

You managed though, collecting more tickets and playing another round as Mina, Sero, Denki and you made a bet. The person with the lowest score would have to calm the blonde down. “Game on!” Denki puffed, you smirked cheekily as the challenge began.

After about 5 minutes the four of you were neck in neck with high scores but you fell short of third place. You groaned, collecting your tickets. Mina and Denki wiggled their eyebrows at you and Sero just laughed at your dismay, “Fine!” You laughed, walking over the the blonde on the verge of explosion. “Hey, Spice?” You placed your gloved hand on his shoulder. He snapped at you, scowling at your disruption. “Help me pick out a prize with my tickets?” You didn’t wear your usual smile, your brows knitted, concerned about the potential problem if he blew up the game.

Bakugo could almost breathe fire at you in his rage, but the concerned look you gave him threw him off. He just tossed up his hands and almost growled before crossing his arms letting you usher him to the prize table with a relieved smile. Sero, Mina, Denki and Kirishima were floored; their jaws slack at the ease at which you had simmered him and removed him from the game he almost blew up. They all looked at each other with devious grins as they huddled together.

At the prize table you had to put all your tickets into some machine that counted them out, “Thanks for agreeing to help me.” You smiled up at him as he unraveled the mess of tickets you had. He just grunted and huffed in response, he wasn’t a big talker outside of when he screamed about being the best or when he got mad. When he did talk you could tell he put thought into his words, even when he wasn’t talking to you. When all the tickets were counted out you were directed to the charm section of the prize table. “What do you think?” You pestered him.

He squatted down, eyeing most of the girly charms. He didn’t know what girls liked, he watched you look over the more boyish themed charms. “I don’t know,” He hissed, “What’s the point of this anyway.”

“Making memories.” You smiled into the glass, spotting a charm that caught your eye. “Oh! Can I look at that one?” You asked the staff behind the counter, the pulled out a little bob-omb phone charm. You snickered at it, “How do we feel about this one?” You handed it to him, he just stared at it with knitted brows before scowling at you. “What??”

“It’s a bomb.” He said.

“So are you.” You snorted and rolled your eyes. “I think it’s cute.”

With a over dramatic “TCH.” He handed it back, “Well I guess that’s the one then.” He rolled his own eyes, “Why did you ask for my help if you didn’t need it?”

You handed you ticket stub to the staff and looped the charm onto your phone, “I didn’t know I wouldn’t need your help.” You pushed him back towards the group, “Come on, I think everyone is burnt out on games.”

Before leaving the arcade everyone found a one of those kawaii photo booths. Mina somehow managed to usher everyone in, her and the other three boys pushed you and Bakugo together, you took the standard photos, Kirishima managed to swindle the ‘Glamouroki’ face out of Bakugo for the final ‘funny face’ photo. You, Mina and Denki burst into tears of laughter at the scene, Sero wheezed into the side of the booth. The face was now encapsulated for all of time in the photo booth six sticker sheets. You slipped the photo behind your clear phone case, making sure not to stick it down. “God. We have to keep this forever.” Mina cried out.

“That was solid gold.” You wheezed out wiping your face, Bakugo shouted and hit Kirishimas hardened head when he figured out it was photographed. “Holy shit, that couldn’t have been more perfect.” You panted taking a deep breath.

“Let grab a few drinks before heading home.” Kirishima cried out from his own laughter, you all agreed. Heading to a vending machine on your way out.

——

The next day after finishing weekend homework the bakugang decided to have a movie night. You noticed that Mina and the boys had been pushing you and Bakugo together, not that you minded but you couldn’t pin point why so you shrugged off the thought. It had been decided that the four of them would prepare snack and drinks if you and Bakugo would pick a movie. “Soo- they’re clearly plotting something,” You joked at the blonde as you both dig through his movie collection. “Should we pick a movie they can’t handle as revenge?” This elicited a laugh out of him.

“I didn’t think ‘little miss sunshine and rainbows’ would come up with such a devious idea.” He snorted at you.

“Sunshine and Rainbows only appear after a dark storm.” You smirked while pointing at him.

He laughed, you almost dropped the DVD you were looking at when you heard it. “Oh, this is gonna be great.” The two of you picked the most gruesome and twisted movie you could find in his collection. Putting it in his DVD player before the others returned. You and Bakugo were chuckling at each other, unwittingly it seemed to excite the other four. You and Bakugo sat on his bed as the rest sat choice-fully on the floor. Denki turned off the lights as Mina sorted out snacks so everyone could reach them and passed around drinks.

They movie started fine, easily pulling them in, you stifled laughter. Bakugo was much better at doing that, though he had a smirk plastered onto his face. You adjusted yourself to pulling your knees up to your chest comfortably, to an outside perspective your were preparing for the movie to get more twisted, from Bakugo’s perspective he just noted a smile that curled at your lips behind your hands that rested on your knees. He started to get irritated with how much attention he paid to you. The simple ways you shifted as the movie dragged on, the excitement that built up causing you to bite your bottom lip. He had the urge to smack you and telling you to stop biting your lip. He shook his head at the thought. Nope, nu-uh. These are not thoughts he was ready to have. He forced his attention from you and focused on the movie with knitted brows.

You adjusted again, crossing your legs and grasping your ankles in anticipation. Part of you was totally enthralled in the movie, you love this stuff, the other part was excited for the wicked prank you and Bakugo had setup for your poor unwitting friends. The first scene that got to them came, enticing a loud set of screeches from the four on the floor and you had gasped at the scene jumping a little and then a chuckle at their responses. You looked back at Bakugo who was already looking at you and beamed, “Success.” You whispered at him, he smirked back and nodded before your attention was back on the screen.

By the time the movie was over you firmly believe you traumatized the four, “WHY WOULD YOU PUT SOMETHING LIKE THAT ON.” Mina whisper yelled.

You and Bakugo glanced at each other from where you sat on the bed and laughed softly, “I thought it was a good movie.” You retorted.

“You guys are a bunch of babies, if you want to watch something soft you pick the movie.” Bakugo snorted waving a hand at the movie collection, it was movie night after all.

Denki looked a little brain fried as Mina and Kirishima darted to the movie collection to pick something to quell their pained minds. You laughed again, sliding off the bed as you looked at the time. “It’s getting late, we can afford one more movie but I’m gonna go change.”

You made your way out of Bakugo’s room to yours, you tossed your hair up in a messy bun and threw on a baggy shirt, a pair of shorts and a warm cardigan. Quickly making your way back to his room when you hear bickering. “Don’t you dare, that’s (Y/N/N)’s!” You hear Mina say.

You poke your head in to see her wrangling your phone from Bakugo’s grip, trying to get the photo you slid into your case out. “Oh-ho.” You piped out, “I see, I can’t trust you with my belongings.” You snorted, knowing how he felt about the hilarious photo. You slid in quickly snatching your phone from them both before finding your barely warm spot still on the bed.

Mina huffed in success and Bakugo just crossed his arms, “It’s just a stupid photo.” He grumbled.

“It’s my stupid photo, Spice.” You said, “And if you try to take it again I’ll print large poster versions of it and plaster it to every wall in the school.” You chided at him with an almost evil smirk.

He groaned and Mina turned the lights back off as the next movie played. You felt Bakugo’s knee tap yours, as if it was some silent confirmation of your words. Your smile softened a bit and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye. His scowl still ever present but softer than his usual. Kirishima yawned, causing everyone else to yawn. You cozied yourself in your sweater against the wall as you watched the movie with half lidded eyes. Your shoulders slouched a bit and you ended up leaning you arm into Bakugo, who just stiffened at the action. This kept you awake through the movie, not that you were paying it any attention to it.

Bakugo on the other hand was now wide awake due to your sudden touch into his arm, this is not how he expected things to go. Though your prank was an absolute success, he wasn’t prepared for the aftermath. He was irritated and confused at your current actions, you should be angry at him not leaning into him! Did he want you to be mad at him? He couldn’t think straight.

As soon as the movie ended he ushered everyone out, even you in your sleepy stupor. You and Mina just looped arms and made your way back to the girls side of the building, triple checking that you had your phone.

You knocked out quickly when you got to your room, you had a great weekend. Bakugo didn’t have such luck, he just assumed you showed anger different ways and made a mental list of what to do about it before he had the luxury of sleep.

——

The next morning you were back to your usual routine, however you found you weren’t the first one up. You watched the blonde cook in the kitchen before starting your routine, you got ready to exercise when you decided to disturb him. “Good morning, Spice. Food smells great, as usual.”

You watch his frame stiffen, but grunt as usual, “Morning, (Y/N).” He groaned, maybe he slept on the wrong side of the bed? You thought, continuing your stare at him.

“I’m gonna work out, come grab me if you need anything, okay?” You offered but he just waved you off stiffly. You got to your work out, followed by a shower and drying your hair properly so you didn’t have to listen to Bakugo whine about it. Making your way back to the kitchen to make tea for the both of you. The blonde just stiffened at your presence in the kitchen so you made quick work of the tea, this morning was different though. Bakugo had made breakfast for you too, uh oh. You thought, something must’ve happened. “Are you alright?” You asked staring in surprise, “Not that I’m not elated to try your cooking but-“ You were cut off by him shaking his head and starting to eat.

You watched him for a minute before started to eat as well, holy shit. Was all you could think, “This is really good.” You said softly, smiling as you quickly ate.

He still didn’t say anything, you wondered what snapped in him. You finished quickly and when he was done he collected your dishes. Finishing his cooking in the kitchen after the rice cooker pinged. You flitted through your papers making sure everything was in order for the day when you hear a *thump* beside you. You looked over and it was a larger than average bento, wrapped neatly. You just cocked an eyebrow at it and looked at Bakugo, “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s wrong?” He’s clearly broken this morning. “Are you sick?” He scowled down at you, differently than you’ve seen before. He just let out a frustrated noise at your confused behavior.

You watch him for a moment before anything happens, he just pushes out the chair beside you and sits crossing his arms scowling differently at you. “The last time you were weirdly quiet and gave me lunch as when you blew up my hand...” You lean your head back thinking before it clicks. “Oh my god, is this about the sticker??”

He just groans in frustration, “Obviously! Your probably furious with me!” He hissed, watching your form relax, no smile in sight just concern. “I don’t fucking know!” He threw his hands out.

You put your hand to your face, a chuckle escaped you and turned to a hearty laugh, “Katsuki.” He flinched, that’s the first time you’ve said his name. “I’m not mad, that sticker is just a fucking sticker. I only wanted to keep it because it’s an original. Those photo booths have an option to email the photos, so I have a digital copy.” You pull out your phone and hand it to him. “If you don’t want me to have it to the point of this much guilt or frustration, take it. I won’t fight you, Spice.”

He stared at you in awe, now he just felt like a fucking idiot. His brain was addled with you over some stupid fucking sticker. What is going on with me?? You seemed to agree that he was losing his shit, not that you even knew it was about you. He pushed your phone back towards you and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t worry about it.” Was all he said before he got up to clean, leaving you with both photo and bento. He doesn’t say anything to you for the rest of the morning as he disappears to finish getting ready for school.

——

A few days passed and Kirishima brought up the provisional licensing exams that passed before you transferred in. “He probably would have passed if you were there (Y/N).” Kirishima says in passing. You had asked him how they did the testing in Japan.

You hummed at the comment before looking at the redhead, “I don’t think I could have made him be nice to people.” You shrugged a bit, he only failed because he’s abrasive. “He doesn’t yell at me because I’ve proven I can kick his ass.” The comment makes you both chuckle but Bakugo just shouts out in the distance, you both only laugh harder.

That morning the class found out about the work study program, you weren’t here for the sports festival so your options were more limited. Ochaco wanted to introduce you to GunHead but he wasn’t taking work study students; Aizawa said Amajiki-Senpai would introduce you and Kirishima to Fatgum. The two of you fist bump at the offer knowing full well that your friend harassed the poor kid into it. No one could foresee the events that followed.

You found yourself in a meeting discussing the take down of a Yukuza crime syndicate and the rescue of a small girl named Eri. The details of the situation she was in made your stomach churn. Over the next few days you found yourself hanging out with Kirishima, Ochaco, Asui and Izuku more. You all were brooding over the up coming event, your normal routine didn’t change much but the event pulled the 5 of you together. On movie night Denki decided to bring it up to you and Kirishima, you both just kind of looked at each other before making up some bullshit answer. “Honestly, the work study program is just a lot more than we expected. We were just brooding about it.” Was all you could manage, you rubbed the back of your neck uncomfortably. You hear Bakugo click his tongue at the blatant lie but you couldn’t defend yourself. It was getting harder to wear your usual smile while waiting for a message for the raid.

—

The day of the raid was devastating, even though the raid itself went by a lot faster than you had expected. You rode in the ambulance with Sir Night Eye, keeping him stable until you arrived at the hospital. You can’t regrow other people’s missing organs but you did everything you could, you just sobbed for most of the time. You were lucky you didn’t receive any damages that would have you stuck in the hospital, you helped heal everyone’s wounds to get them out sooner but it was draining. A few hero’s who claimed to be in your debt brought food to you as you ran around the hospital. Forcing you to sit down and eat, you thanked them telling them they didn’t have to but they waved off the comment.

——

A few days later you were sitting, curled up in the corner and arm of a couch, in the common room in the middle of the night, you didn’t want to be stuffed in your room anymore. You felt like your tears dried out, you just sat staring at your phone screen when you heard foot steps from behind. You payed no mind to it as they walked into the kitchen, you’ve been staring at the same page on your phone trying to focus until the other person spoke, “It’s the middle of the night, go to bed dumbass.” You looked up to see Bakugo, he was right but something made tears bubble in the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill.

Bakugo had just run down to get a bottle of water when he saw you sitting on the couch, you were just on your phone so he couldn’t understand why you weren’t doing that in your room. After he spoke up he turned to face you, he saw tears in your eyes as they slowly ran down your cheeks. He panicked he’d never admit that, he walked over and squat down in front of you. He didn’t say anything but he just stared up at you with his brows knitted. “S-sorry. Ah-I just, I d-don’t-“ You stuttered and rubbed your eyes furiously.

He clicked his tongue, “Shut up.” He hissed, he hears what ever you were going to say hitch in your throat and you try to stifle your tears. “That’s not- ugh.“ He cut himself off, comforting people wasn’t in the list of things he was good at. Bakugo gets up from were he was squatting and walks back into the kitchen. When he gets back he hands you water bottle and sits down next to you. “Drink.”

Your hands were shaking but you managed to open the bottle and take a sip, Bakugo finally got a glance at the mess behind your hands. Your (E/C) eyes were red and puffy, the skin around them was raw, your nose and cheeks were irritated from being rubbed at. His brows knit further watching you struggle to put the lid back on. He just snatched the lid and puts it back on for you, “T-thanks.” You sputtered at him, “Sorry, I’m a mess aren’t I?” You force our a small chuckle, he only clicks his tongue.

“Stop apologizing when you’ve done nothing wrong!” He whisper yells at you, you nod at him from behind your hands as they made their way back to your face. “Stop that!” He grabbed your wrists causing you to look at him, when he hoped you’d stop abusing your pretty face he let go of your wrists and grabbed your ankles. You almost yelped at the action as he just lifted them up and aggressively scooted closer, dropping your legs over his lap. “What the fuck is so wrong that’s got Little Miss Sunshine in tears?” He hissed at you.

You almost gaped at him, who is this and what have they done with Bakugo?? As soon as you snapped back to reality you wrapped your arms around your thighs, tears still dripping out of your eyes. “I just, I feel like a failure.” You go on to explain the raid, how messed up Kirishima and Tamaki-senpai got and the loss of Sir Night Eye. “I should’ve been able to do more!” You whisper yelled through tears, “My quirk is molecular regeneration for fucks sake!” You dropped your head into your knees, sobbing quietly.

Bakugo had crossed his arms and listened as you explained everything. Kirishima was his best friend sure but even he knows there’s a limit to every quirk. “(Y/N).” You lifted your head to look at him. “You’re not a fucking miracle worker.” He adjusted in his seat, propping an arm up on the back of the couch and leaning his head into his fist, you felt him adjust which made you focus for the first time on his close proximity. You went to say something back but nothing came out, you dropped your chin onto your knees and let the tears stream thinking about what he said. You knew he was right, you used your quirk a ton before Kirishima and Sir Night Eye were even brought out, even the medic staff thanked you greatly for keeping Sir Night Eye stable the whole way to the hospital. “This is a part of working as a Hero.” He grumbled.

You stayed quiet for some time before responding, “I know.” You tilted to the side and leaned into the blonde, your tears slowing. Your head and knees leaned into his chest lightly, you could feel him stiffen at the action. You went to sit up properly when you felt him pull you back roughly, you let out a small ‘oof’ at the action. The whole situation bubbles up in your stomach, causing you to giggle through what’s left of your tears. “If you keep being nice to me I might have to call you Sweets instead of Spice.” You snorted out softly.

You could feel him stifle a chuckle before clicking his tongue, “Shut up!” He growled, “Don’t even think about telling anyone I was soft with you once!”

You chuckle a bit and lift your head to look at him, wiping your face with your shirt. “You really think I’d share such a sappy moment about you? Nuh-uh, this is my memory.” You chuckle a bit and lean back into him, missing the blush that decorated his scowling face. The two of you stayed like that for awhile before he convinced you that you were tired and should go to bed, you groaned and yawned before you begrudgingly agreed.

The next day Bakugo invited told you to go with him to see Kirishima, you agreed a bit reluctantly. He basically dragged you by the wrist the entire way there, you blushed over the action but didn’t argue. When you arrived Bakugo watched you in a bit of confusion as you were basically on a first name basis with the nurses, and older nurse had pulled you into a big hug that elicited a loud whine from you. They laughed and sent the two of you up to the room where Kirishima was. When you opened up the door you found the redhead was wide awake, he offered a bright smile that just made you cry again. Visible panic set in his face and Bakugo dragged you in by the hand to sit next to him, he explained the situation to his friend and the two let you sob. “I heard about everything you did.” Kirishima said, “I get where you’re coming from but you did a lot (Y/N/N). Like a lot-a lot.” He told Bakugo about what he heard from the nurses and Fatgum about your frenzy around the hospital with all the hero’s and officers who were at the raid.

“I’m sorry for getting upset.” You mumbled, “I just feel stupid. I know what I signed up for when I decided to go into the field of Heroism, but this was just a kick to the gut.” You rubbed your temples a bit, “Honestly, having my arm blown up was better than being this unprepared.” You sputtered, this earned a chuckle from the two.

“Dumbass, I told you you’re not a miracle worker!” Bakugo spat and dropping his palm on the top of your head, ruffling your hair aggressively. “Now stop being upset!” He hissed, you and Kirishima laughed at his aggressive ‘kindness’. The three of you talked for awhile, you offered to heal your friend more but he declined saying he’d be out soon anyway. You pouted but understood.

When you left Bakugo was still dragging you by your hand, “Thanks.” You said softly, smiling a bit. “That made me feel better.” You squeezed his hand lightly when he grunted at you. Such a weirdo, you wondered what’s gotten into him lately.

“Shut up.” He shouted, “It’s fucking weird seeing you upset.”

“Is that your version of saying you like seeing me happy?” You sniggered, this only elicited his grip on your hand to tighten. Your chuckles were cut short and you blushed loudly at the situation, he likes seeing me happy? You internally questioned.

After the trip to the hospital you became way too aware of Bakugo’s presence, anytime you bumped into him or happened to be too close your ears burned with blush. You were finally feeling more like yourself and now you felt like a wrench was thrown into your mind. As far as you could tell Mina was (of course) the first to notice. She pulled you into Jiro’s room, causing you to yelp. “Spill it (Y/N/N)!” She put her hands on her hips while wearing a smug grin. Jiro and Ochaco just stared at you two confused.

“What.” You chocked out.

She wiggles her eyebrows, “You’re all blushy with Bakugo! That’s what!” You almost tackled her at the statement.

“DON’T SAY THAT.” You shouted, the other girls were quick to pick up the situation. Mina grabbed your wrists and the other girls started to poke at you, you squealed loudly from being tickled.

All the yelling caused concern in the other dorm-mates who knocked on the door. Momo opened it up revealing herself, Toru and Iida. “(L/N) has a crush on someone! We’re trying to get her to confess the details!” Jiro tittered.

“DON’T LISTEN TO HER. SOMEONE HELP ME.” You cried out from being tickled, Momo ushered Iida to leave and the girls entered the room to poke at you. “NO!” You shouted while laughing.

“Just tell us what happened!” Ochaco teased you finally agreed and huffed for air.

You collapsed on Jiro’s bed, “I was really upset the other night Bakugo basically said he likes seeing me happy and now I’m like- hyperaware of his presence and the things he’s done. I feel like I’m losing my mind!” You whined softly.

“What’s he done?” Momo asked, you sat up and explained what he did after the sticker incident. You absolutely showed them the sticker and told them that he’s the one who’s been making you lunches. Mina explained how you easily calmed him from almost destroying the arcade game, the other girls just gave you the knowing look.

“Girl.” Mina facepalms, trying her hardest not to laugh. “How are you both are so fucking dense?”

You throw your hands up defensively, “I don’t know!” You yell out when there’s another knock at the door.

Jiro gets up to open it, and speak of the devil. “Boy Wonders here.” This elicits an unintelligible shout from you.

“Wha- AGH. Can you stop making her yell.” Bakugo glowered at your friend.

“I don’t think that’s on me, it’s just.… Girl talk.” She retorts with a snicker. He hears you groan in the background and sees a pillow thrown, your face is undeniably blushing.

He puts his hand on the door and leans in over the girl. “(Y/N), stop yelling.” He says sternly, your face drops into the bed as you wave him off. The girls are laughing at the interaction but he just scowls at them and walks off.

“Can someone just bury me already, I’m dying.” You hissed from the bed.

“So, he obviously likes you.” Jiro says walking back.

“Ohmygod. No he doesn’t!” You blurted.

“If he didn’t like you he would’ve told us all to ‘shut the fuck up’ or ‘keep it down’. He made that about you.” Mina jeered at you.

“Bakugo only feels anger!” You laughed, you knew that was a lie but he’d kill you if you said otherwise.

“Maybe he just feels less angry with you?” Ochaco snorted.

“I’ve never seen him be that considerate to anyone, let alone be as nice as you’ve mentioned.” Momo said.

“You’re in denial because you just noticed your feelings for him.” Toru snickered.

Mina laughed and grinned deviously, “If you’re so sure why don’t you ask him?”

“Wh-what? N-NO! I can’t do that!” You stammered, sitting up quickly. “If he liked me he would’ve said something by now! Can any of you imagine him just letting something he wants get away from him?” The girls looked between each other, you were right.

“OH.” Toru piped. “What if we convince him your interested in someone else? If he likes you he’ll do something about it right?” You could hear the implications in her voice.

You frowned deeply, teetering your head back. “That’s... Fair? I guess, but what if he like, tries to interrogate you guys?” You question, the girls smile and usher you out to make a plan.

Over the next several days the girls in passing talk about you and your crush, making sure it comes up in conversation near you and Bakugo. You always blush whenever they do, making sure you get a good jab or pinch in every time.

Bakugo is getting increasingly frustrated, you guys hang out all the time. What was this stupid crush about? Why was he angry about it? Why did he want to confront you over it? This frustration has him blowing up over everything. He’s managed to break pens, pencils, cups, plates, a book, and a few other miscellaneous objects. Denki and Sero try to get you to calm him down but you said he hasn’t talked to you or made the problem apparent so there’s nothing you can do.

“I think this is about your crush.” Denki mentions, which for you was the final straw you snapped, you were so tired of this crush nonsense.

“Denki.” You smile at him your gaze was dark in frustration, he looks over at you. “If I have to hear anything else about that topic I will flip your skin inside out, rub salt on it and throw vinegar at you.” You smile widens evilly. “Got it?” He just nodded furiously and runs off.

You drop your head on the counter where you sat at the kitchen bar, groaning loudly. You feel an aggressive tapping on your shoulder seconds later. You snap in their direction with a scowl, it’s Bakugo. Your expression softens when you’re met by an equal glare, “Come with me. Now.” He commanded, you follow him reluctantly. You weren’t paying much mind but you slowly realized you were heading to the boys dorms, more specifically his room.

You’ve been in there dozens of times, why are you so nervous now? You let out a sigh, trying to calm yourself as you made your way into the room. You sat on the edge of his bed, like you had many times before. “What can I do for you, Spice?” You ask, smiling at his glare.

He started pacing back and forth, he isn’t quite sure why he brought you here. He’s just mad and it has something to do with you. “What is this whole crush nonsense about?”

You froze a bit, “I have a crush on someone and the girls weaseled information out of me.” You rubbed the back of your neck, the statement was pointed, it wasn’t a complete lie.

He just stared at you in disbelief, all your actions proved you were telling the truth. “Who?” He hissed, less asking and more demanding. You looked down at your feet, you didn’t say anything. “Is it Kirishima?” He snapped, I mean it would make sense with how broken up you were with his injuries. You stared at him, squinting your eyes a bit. Giving him the ‘are you serious?’ expression. “Tell me it’s not Denki? Dudes a fucking idiot.”

You laughed out at this comment, “No, dumbass. I’m not that desperate.” You roll your eyes, you watch the gears turn in his head furiously. It’s not clicking. “For fucks sake, Spice. You really can’t figure it out?”

He scowls at you, you just groan and jump from your seat. You walk up, get in his face and grab him by his shirt collar. You pull his face into your for a kiss. It takes a few seconds for him to grab you by your waist and pull you up, kissing deeper. He bit at you lip as if asking to enter your mouth, you comply easily while you wrap you arms around his neck. Your fingers find his hair when you both pull away for air. “You could’ve just said something, dumbass.”

“Oh, I am not the only dumbass here, Sweets.” You snickered at him. A frustrated blush tints his cheeks at the new nickname.

“Don’t call me that.” He snaps pulling you in aggressively for another kiss.

You tug at his hair a bit at the kiss, “Only when we’re alone.” You retort between kisses. “God, I don’t know if I should kill the girls or thank them.” You pant out, he sends you a questioning look. You chuckle a bit, “The whole crush nonsense was their tactic to force us to admit we had feelings for each other.” Bakugo’s face burned with frustration but he found that he was far less frustrated after the aggressive make out session. Your phone pinged with a text from Mina.

Mina:

Are you making out or killing each other? Hurry up it’s movie night!

Received 5:59PM

(Y/N):

Yes

Sent 6:00PM (seen)

(Y/N):

You hurry up we’re already here

Sent 6:00PM (seen)

You removed yourself from his grasp and grabbed his hand. “Come on, let’s pick a movie and pretend fight so they’ll shut up.” He just rolled his eyes and smirked. Not too long after the rest of the Bakusquad (minus Kirishima) made their way to his room, followed by a few of the other curious girls. “You’re so fucking weird why would buy that??”

“It’s a classic! Dumbass, why don’t you have good taste in movies?” He hissed.

“Ooh, excuse me for having my own opinion!” You snapped, it was so hard not to laugh.

“What have we done..” Mina groans.

You both look at the door, “Shut up!” You both hissed in unison, snapping back to face each other.

“Don’t copy me!” You yelled.

“You’re one to talk!” He snorted.

Mina ushered the girls off while her and Sero broke up the fight, little do they know it’s totally fake. Mina picks a LOTR movie at random. “Just sit down and let’s enjoy a movie!” She snapped. You both fake hissed at each other as you sat in your normal spots on his bed, a bit closer than normal.

While the others got caught up in the movie you silently laughed to get it out of your system, Bakugo snorted quietly at the whole situation.

At some point during the movie when you adjusted your sitting to stretch your legs Bakugo decided to lay across your lap. Not like a normal person would with their head in you lap, but on his side. The side of his abdomen pressed down your thighs as he propped him head up on his hand. Elbow pressed into the mattress, he snicker as you readjusted. You didn’t mind as much as he thought you did, you were focused on the movie. You had absentmindedly started to comb your fingers through his hair, causing him to get tired. The movie was about 4 hours long, which ran into the time you and the blonde typically went to sleep. Bakugo had already fallen asleep across your lap, you had crossed your arms and started dozing off.

When the movie was over, Mina, Denki and Sero got up to go get ready for bed. When they turned on the light they all stared at the sight before them, you were sat dozed off peacefully against the wall. Your arms crossed head still slightly upright, one leg out and one leg bent with the foot on the opposing knee. While Bakugo was laying on his chest in your lap with one arm under and wrapped around your bent leg with his face buried into your thigh like it was a pillow. Mina was quick to silence her phone and snap a dozen photos, “Should we wake them?” Sero whispers.

Denki shook his head, “You really want to wake the two scariest people we know?” The other two agree and quickly escape the room and turn the light back off.

——

Bakugo woke up in the middle of the night, he was warm and cold in all the wrong places. He rubbed his face into what he quickly realized wasn’t a pillow and shot upright. There you were, totally asleep. Same position as the Bakusquad had left you in, with the softest snores escaping you. He just stared at you in shock before he reaches over for his phone. It’s 2 am, he debates whether to wake you or not. He decided to just scoop you up and lay you down on his bed, there’s no getting out of this one. He gets up to change into his sleepwear and climb back into bed, you were already in comfortable clothing (shorts and a baggy t-shirt). He pulls the covers over you and lays facing the wall with his back to you under the covers.

The sun flickered against your eyelids and woke you as usual in the morning, but something was different this morning. You felt a warm and heavy weight holding you down, when you opened you eyes you realized what’s wrong. You were still in Bakugo’s room, you felt him adjust in his sleep which forced you to assess the situation. He was big spooning you, in his bed, one arm under your neck and the other arm wrapped around your waist, hand under your shirt tucked beside your bare ribs, lightly snoring into your neck where his face was nuzzled. Holy shit, was all your brain could process.

You decided to sneakily grab your phone, double check it was on silent mode and snap a few pictures. You now have dirt on him forever. You attempt to pry yourself from his sleeping grip but the second you manage to sit up right his sleeping form curls around your waist. As cute as this is you wanted to go change and get ready for the day, “Hey, Sweets?” You whine at him, he adjusts in his spot. “Bakugo.” You press further, he grumbled but nothing further. You think for a moment and lean down a bit, “Katsuki.” You say in the most seductive voice you can manage, this quickly pries his eyes open. It takes him a solid 30 seconds to realize the position he’s in, how the fuck did this happen?? He doesn’t quite move as he feels his face heat up. “Good morning. Please free me so I can get ready, I’ve been trying to get you up for like 5 minutes.” You yawned out to him, stretching a bit. When he finally let go he just lazily dropped his face in his pillow that now smelt like you, groaning softly.

You looked back at his figure, frustrated noises escaping him as his neck turned red. You just laughed softly before making your way to get your day started.

Bakugo came down with a few other, later than usual when Mina finally tackled you in the lounge. “You’ll never believe what I got a picture of last night!” She snickered.

You laughed softly, “Oh I have an idea, considering what I got a picture of this morning.” You both laughed at this, “You’re such an ass, why didn’t you wake me up?”

Mina just shows her pictures triumphantly in response, you ask her to send them to you when you show her the pictures you got this morning. Her jaw looked like it was about to fall off when Bakugo sped over to see. “DELETE THAT.”

“Absolutely not.” You locked your phone and hid it away. “You’re so cute when your asleep, so peaceful.” You gushed, Mina was actively losing her marbles at the interaction. “Get over it Spice, you can delete them if you beat me in a fight.” You winked at him, the whole speech burned a blush into his face as he stomped off shouting. “He’s so cute when he’s embarrassed.” You snickered to Mina as you both stood up.

“SHUT UP!” He bellowed out from the kitchen, causing you to laugh harder.

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toloveawarlord · 3 years

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The Little Vampire (Ch. 2)

You can find my masterlist in my bio!

Characters: Nell, Levi, & Satan

Tagging: @plumpblueberry @starry-starry-night24 @gay-noodle-clan

A/N: Day 3 of the 12 Days of OCmas! He is already so attached to his little vampire. Who should she meet next?

Being summoned had turned into a complicated, scheduled event. Levi began to enjoy his trips to visit the girl, bringing her snacks and playing board games. She intently listened to his ramblings about Ruri-chan without judgement or teasing. He honestly had more fun with her than anyone else.

He looked forward to visiting, despite being confined to an empty bedroom.

Except today was different.

It was late, but he was up watching a new anime that was finally available in the Devildom when he was tugged through the void and into the human world. They weren’t scheduled to meet again until the end of the week. “Nell? What’s this abo-” His words trailing off.

The room was empty, and the circle at his feet poorly drawn as if done in a hurry. He’d never come without her being here, and never had the door been left open. The demon wasn’t sure that she left the room at all. Nell never told him about her life here, only asking that he keep her company and play games with her.

“L-Levi!” A shout from somewhere else in the house. Her voice shrill and desperate, hoarse like she’d been yelling for hours.

The layout of the house unknown to him, but the stench of humans drew him down the staircase. There were more than he’d expected, and all quite surprised at his sudden presence. As for Levi, his mouth gaped at the scene before him.

“Levi! Help me!” Nell cried out from where she was held down on the coffee table, a human on either side of her writhing body. A makeshift beheading block. She managed to get an arm out, helplessly reaching towards him.

The large human with the axe stuck his foot against her head, his boot cutting into her pale skin and drawing blood. “Stop squalling, you monster.” His hate-filled eyes turned to Levi. “This doesn’t concern demons so move along!”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Levi spat out, demonic power erupting from his body. His transformation enough to send fear rattling through the pathetic human’s fragile forms. Golden irises were overflowing with absolute rage. His voice inhumanly deep and commanding. “That little vampire belongs to me.”

Although the leader tried to be strong, his limbs betrayed him, trembling like leaves in the presence of someone so powerful. “What does a demon want with a-” No words could form with his back against the wall, gaze unable to look away from the demon towering above him. The man completely paralyzed.

Levi’s head tilted to the side, assessing his prey with muted interest. Humans were so weak, and yet they pretended to be at the top of the food chain. “It won’t matter to you. You hurt someone important to me.” His tail slithered up to the man’s throat, wrapping gingerly around it....

With one squeeze, his head popped off, splatting against the floor.

The others scattered but none were able to escape. Angering a demon, even one without his strength was a death sentence. No one did so and lived to talk about it.

“Nell?” Levi regained control of himself, scratching his bloodstained cheek awkwardly. He found the vampire quivering in the corner of the room, violet eyes sweeping over the mess. A wave of guilt flooded over him. He must have frightened her so much with his anger.

He glanced around, finding her stuffed dinosaur under the coffee table, likely from when she’d dropped when they were throwing her around. He knelt down in front of her, reaching out and offering the stuffed animal to her. “I’m sorry- oof-”

The girl threw herself into his arms, the force knocking him over. Her cheek rubbed against his chest as she sniffled but smiled. “I knew you’d save me!” A mixture of emotions bubbled over. Nell was crying out of happiness and relief. “If you hadn’t come... they’d of--they’d of- hic.” The fear of almost dying turned into a sobbing mess. She tried to wipe them away with the backs of her hands.

Levi patted his hand against the top of her head. “It’s alright. You don’t have to worry about them anymore.” Mostly because he’d killed them, but he had another reason. He produced a golden band from his pocket. “Check this out. I had my brother help me get it. It’ll let you come back to the Devildom with me. It’s like a super rare item!”

At first it was too big to fit around her dainty wrist, but it shrunk in size once it touched her skin. “Woah. You’re giving me a rare item? Like...” Her brows furrowed as she dug through her memory. “Like the Silver Lion sword in that dungeon game we played?”

“Yeah! Just like that! And it’s all yours! I mean... if you want to come with me.”

Her small arms locked around his neck. “Yes! I wanna go now. Can we go now? Before the others come and lock me up again.”

More humans? Levi cast a glance around at the carnage. He didn’t have the energy to face any more of them. Better to abandon this game than continue to fight. He’d gotten his prize anyways.

Nell nearly fell when they were transported back to his bedroom. She spun on the ball of her foot, throwing her hands up. “That was so cool! It was like poof and we were here!” Her spinning only stopped when she got dizzy, teetering around as she laughed.

Levi collapsed into his gaming chair, all his energy drained. Traveling between the two realms was a big enough strain, but also using so much demonic power only made the demon exhausted. With his elbow propped up on the arm, he rested his chin on his palm.

“Is this where you sleep?” Nell pushed her hands against the edge of the tub to see it better but slipped and fell headfirst into the pile of pillows. Her legs kicked in the air before she flipped upright.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Levi asked, nervously turning his gaze to find Henry in the large aquarium. Only normies slept in beds. His tub was the perfect size, and he could cuddle his Ruri-chan body pillow without any issues.

The girl hummed, brushed her white hair out of her face. “No, it makes sense.” She grinned at his surprised expression. “Besides, it’s comfy. Can I sleep here, too? I’m really tiny so we can both fit.”

“S-sure.” He hadn’t thought this far ahead. The situation had turned out to be more dire than he’d realized, but even without it, the demon didn’t have anything in place for her once they’d arrived here. Levi racked his brain for his next move while the girl continually dove into the pillows and then popped up on the other side of the tub and repeated.

The only thing he did know was that Lucifer couldn’t find out she was here.

“I see the item worked for you.”

Nell slipped back under the pillows, peeking out between them to spy on the new demon in the room. His green eyes flickered to where she hid but quickly moved to Levi. Which one was he? She’d heard about all of them.

“Although, I’m not sure that keeping a human as a pet is a good idea.”

“I’m not a human!” The girl sprung up, haphazardly knocking the pillows out of the tub and onto the floor. Her index fingers tapped against her two large canines. “I’m a vampire. See? Fangs!”

Levi rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do next, but think you can keep her a secret? If Lucifer finds out, he’ll punish me for sure.” His shoulders dropped in dejection. And who knows what he’d do to Nell. “Nell, this is my brother Satan.”

“Oh, the one that likes books and is a cat.”

“A cat?” Satan blinked at her in confusion. He wasn’t not like a cat, although he didn’t think that would be a bad thing. She certainly didn’t say it as a negative, so it was possible that it was meant as a compliment.

The vampire climbed out of the tub and approached the fourth born brother who was deep in serious thought. Her hand tugged on his sleeve, violet eyes that of puppy’s. “Please don’t tell the bossy one I’m here. I want to stay with Levi.” Her gaze fell away, distracted by the mountain of games and toys around her. “If I have to go back, the humans will kill me.”

Satan chuckled at her reference to the eldest as the bossy one. “Your secret is safe with me.” He ruffled her hair and smiled softly. She was quite cute, and it would be entertaining to see how long Levi could keep her hidden.

“Nell, no!” Levi chastised. His tail wrapped around her waist, hauling the girl away from his brother. Her fangs grazed against Satan’s wrist but didn’t actually sink in. He held her in the air, sighing. “You can’t bite him. Actually, you can’t bite anyone. No biting.”

Her index fingers poked together as she gave Satan a sheepish expression. “I’m sorry.”

“Levi, you do know you have to feed her, right? Vampires survive on blood, and if she’s willing to bite a demon, then she must be starving,” Satan said, observing the two with curiosity. He’d never seen Levi so invested in something 3-D.

“I know. I’ll figure something out.” He set her down but didn’t release his tail’s grip. Procuring human blood in the Devildom would be difficult. And if he bought it online in bulk, Lucifer was sure to notice. Levi gritted his teeth and rolled up his sleeve. “For now, you can drink from me. Just be quick.” His head turned away, not wanting to see his own blood.

Nell stared at his bare skin, tongue gliding across her teeth. She hadn’t properly drunk in a while, and it was oh so tempting. “Are you sure? I can control myself... maybe.” She would do her best to abstain.

“Yes. I’m sure. It’ll be like in that one episode where Ruri-chan’s best friend was turned into a vampire and needed blood so Ruri-chan sacrificed herself for them to not suffer! A true inspiration!”

Her soft giggle drew his attention back to her. “You’re so funny, Levi. I bet Ruri-chan would be super proud of you.”

Tears welled in his eyes. If that were true, he could die a happy demon. “Alright, let’s do this! Ahh- ouch!” Levi whined as her fangs pierced his skin. It was nothing at all in Ruri-chan! It stung and burned. He clenched his fist and bit his lip. He would not back down.

But damn did it hurt!

Nell drank enough to feel full and then collapsed forward onto his lap with a happy sigh. “You have nice blood,” she whispered, eyelids too heavy to stay open. With a full tummy and the adrenaline of the day wearing off, the little vampire fell promptly asleep.

“I’ll do some research on where you can purchase blood. In the meantime, be sure to keep her in here where none of the others will find her,” Satan said. Once Mammon or Asmo got a hold of a secret, the entire house would know about it in a matter of minutes.

“Thanks, Satan. I owe you,” Levi said, reaching a hesitant head out to pet her white hair. She was kind of like a pet, like Henry, but more hands on. He lifted her up and climbed into his tub with her. She’d been right, they both could fit in here comfortably. For the first night ever, he didn’t need his Ruri-chan pillow.

But keeping her a secret would turn out to be much harder than he’d imagined.

#obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #levi adopts a vampire #papa levi #the little vampire #chapter 2 #he's so soft for her

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itsclydebitches · 4 years

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RWBY Recaps: “Gravity”

Good lord, folks. Buckle your seat-belts because we’ve got a lot to get through this episode. I think this is my longest recap to date, so settle in.

Episode Eleven’s “Gravity” starts out simple enough, focusing on the two fights we’d set up during “Out in the Open.” First up, Ironwood vs. Watts. Overall this fight does a really excellent job of showcasing their different fighting styles. Right from the start Watts is pointing his gun forward to take a clear shot at Ironwood, whereas Ironwood points his backwards to use as a surge of momentum.

He’s going to do this frequently throughout the battle, constantly using his gun to maneuver in the air, slow falls, regain his balance, and change directions, a much more complicated series of choices than the one-off shots we see Ruby use with her sniper rifle. This is partly because Ironwood seems to have a much larger supply of bullets---some sort of energy/dust ammo---than Watts does. His steampunk-esque gun holds only nineteen bullets, requiring him to keep track throughout the fight. Which is always a fun trope but sorry, Watts, you can’t compare to the king.

Thus, with limited weaponry available to him, Watts is forced to get creative with the arena itself. We see him manipulating gravity, shooting up columns of water and fire, and making use of his own pathways between platforms, all in an effort to throw Ironwood off and catch up unawares. However, Ironwood is, frankly, the much better fighter. He was right last week to assume he could handle Watts even though he sent three off to tackle Tyrian. He’s able to recover much more quickly and learns from any mistakes, as evidenced by his ability to hit Watts dead on while in the air the second time he takes out the gravity. When they come together in hand-to-hand Ironwood easily dominates, no doubt thanks not just to his military training and huntsmen lifestyle, but also in large part to his prosthetics which I would assume grant him more speed and power. Throughout the course of the fight we see Watts consistently take more damage to his aura and he’s unable to sense when Ironwood is sneaking up on him. After that little maneuver, Watts (presumably) grows reckless and lets off his last three or four shots in a random barrage. All of them miss.

This emphasis on emotion continues when they land back onto the main stage with Watts shouting, “You never appreciated my genius, James! You just stood atop it and called yourself a giant.” Oh, did Ironwood actually do something horrendous in the past? Is there something juicy that would explain---though not excuse---Watts’ turn towards villainy? Nah. He quickly follows that up with, “You chose that fat imbecile over me!” referring to Pietro. So... nice one, Watts. Crazy arrogance, willful ignorance of Pietro’s own, clear genius (anyone who can create Penny is no slouch), as well as a bit of fat-shamming on top of it all. No sympathy from me.

This moment emphasizes how unhinged Watts is becoming though as the fight turns against him. Even when he manages to setup a head shot Ironwood reveals, “You’re smart, but you’re not the only one who can count,” referencing that Watt’s emotions got the better of him, leading to him wasting his last bullet before it could be of real use.

...except not. I’ve got to admit, I was very pleased when all of this---or at least this particular moment---was merely a plan to get Ironwood to let his guard down. Watts is way too smart a character to be done in by the “You got too emotional and that made you sloppy” trope. So kudos there (even if it remains to be seen whether that Pietro comment was really his motivation, or just another part of the plan). Instead, he uses Ironwood’s confidence in his victory to trap him with the rings that control the arena, essentially pinning Ironwood’s non-prosthetic arm through the energy shields he’s been using. We can immediately see that the parts that have touched Ironwood already have horribly burned the skin.

And that ends up being Watt’s downfall. Not stupidity on his own part, but his lack of understanding of Ironwood himself. He assumes that this truly is a trap for him, rather than another sacrifice. After all, what fool would ruin their one remaining arm to stop him? Watts himself wouldn’t. Don’t pull, he cautions Ironwood, not “unless you’re hoping to add more metal to that body of yours.” Watts goes so far as to turn his back on Ironwood who then makes the sacrifice we all knew he would. One burned, useless arm later and he’s free.

I would like everyone to keep this moment in mind. Namely the utter devastation of it. I’d go so far as to say it’s as bad at Yang losing her arm in Volume 3. Despite seeing it bandaged later, Watts at least thinks it will be a complete loss if Ironwood sacrifices it. He’ll need to “add more metal,” AKA replace his arm, so though he obviously still has it in the following scenes, we don’t know if it will ever be functional again. Just as important, Ironwood had to choose to do that to himself. That wasn’t a horrific, but ultimately clean cut done in a moment of surprise. That was a conscious decision, a slow pull through all that pain, and then having to finish your fight immediately afterward. It’s a very different kind of psychological trauma, no better or worse than having someone take your arm from you by force. Throughout this volume I’ve seen a lot of fans being critical not only of Ironwood’s main decisions, but just his overall attitude as well. Too strict, too stern, doesn’t smile enough, yells sometimes, etc. basically associating someone who isn’t all sunshine and smiles with someone who is “bad.” Ignoring for the moment that we can say the same thing about many of our group---notably Yang---I have little doubt that I’ll see similar posts after this episode. Writings in the vein of, “Ironwood is unhinged! I can’t believe he yelled and hit his desk like that!” So everyone just keep this moment in mind and ask yourself how calm you’d be if you’d sacrificed your arm like that all of half an hour ago. And then found Salem’s calling card on your desk. And then came to the realization that the allies you trusted have been lying to you from the start. And then Salem herself appears to mock you. And then your city is about to be overrun. Basic summary of the rest of the episode: holy shit. So yeah. If Yang is allowed to be angry and upset after losing her arm, or just angry in general like she is in the later half of “Gravity,” I think we owe it to Ironwood to let him be angry too. I have a lot of feelings about the utter insanity he’s been forced through with little to no support and if he wants to take all that out by hitting his desk once, by god I’d say that’s a good coping strategy given the circumstances. Both the writing and the fans tend to erase trauma once you’ve passed age 25. The girls have every right to be upset, to break, to not trust people because they’ve been through a few months of hardship, but Ozpin isn’t allowed the same after a couple thousand years of that. We’re going to see the same hypocrisy later in this episode---the group can be upset about lies but Ironwood is not---and I’m hoping (against hope) that the fandom doesn’t make that worse by sweeping this injury under the rug. It’s horrific and absolutely has a bearing on his inability to keep his cool with the group immediately afterwards. We’ve long passed Ironwood owing them endless reassurances and calm responses.

Anyway, Ironwood still manages to finish the fight because his remaining arm is his robotic one, giving him the strength to easily drag and raise Watts into the air one-handed. He dangles him over the edge of the arena, announcing that he will “sacrifice whatever it takes to stop [Salem].” A clear bit of foreshadowing for his decision at the end of the episode. Watts responds that he hopes he does.

We then move to the Tyrian fight which, on the whole, I don’t think was done quite as well. Granted, there are a lot of enjoyable and badass moments. I like that Clover’s first act is to announce that Tyrian is under arrest, maintaining the law that Atlas (and Ironwood) works to uphold. It doesn’t matter that Tyrian is a crazy serial killer in league with an immortal sorceress hell-bent on destroying the world. Even crazy serial killers have rights and are given the option of surrendering, even when everyone present knows there’s exactly zero chance of that happening. It’s the principal of the thing and the ability to say, “We gave him a chance.” In a world overrun with inequality, this is a small but important attempt to level the field. If you do something wrong you face legal action and those rights are announced to you. Same for Tyrian. Same for Team RWBY. But we’ll get to that.

For now, we see Qrow attack first and like back in Volume Four he and Tyrian are pretty evenly matched. The tide doesn’t turn until Robyn and Clover come into play. Throughout this exchange we see a lot of cool combos among the three of them. Tyrian will block an incoming arrow with his tail only for Clover to snag it with his hook. Robyn can get another arrow to perfectly bounce off the walls and then Qrow’s scythe, hitting Tyrian dead on. Clover can dive between Tyrian’s legs, giving Qrow the opening he needs to attack. It is, as said, pretty badass... almost a little too badass. Personally, I would have appreciated them messing up once or twice. They’re all professionals, yes, but Qrow and Clover have only had one fight together. Robyn, meanwhile, wasn’t even allied with them until an hour ago. This is a situation where skills shouldn’t really trump, “We’re three very distinct people who don’t know each other’s fighting styles well, trying to attack one guy in very close quarters.” There should have been some screw-ups. Especially when we take semblances into account. What, are we supposed to assume here that Clover’s semblance just conveniently overrides Qrow’s? That no mistakes---let alone anything bad---will happen in this fight despite the fact that it’s an extreme parallel to Volume Four? That whole battle emphasized, “Don’t come closer!” because when people fight near Qrow bad shit happens. Now, he fights with two other people in a narrow alleyway and there’s not a single repercussion. Based on their travels looking for the geist, I don’t buy that Qrow’s semblance is just conveniently inactive while near Clover. Even if I did... that’s not a very good writing decision. To me, it’s just more evidence that Rooster Teeth doesn’t understand its own rules/doesn’t know what to do with an ability like Qrow’s. It causes problems only when they explicitly want it to. Then, miraculously, it’s no longer in effect.

Still, we’ll acknowledge that RWBY had a lot else it wanted to accomplish in this episode, so the need to power through this fight is somewhat justified. I personally would have had the entirety of this episode be the two battles---I was shocked when both ended just eight minutes in---but I’m obviously not the one writing the show. Thus, instead of an episode devoted to both the action and the emotion of confronting our two main villains this volume, Tyrian loses his cool after getting punched in the gut, manages to catch Robyn’s arrow in his teeth...

But it’s a bomb.

Down he goes. Fight’s done.

Which leads us into the second half of the episode. I want to preface this with a short acknowledgment before we go any further.

Did these last ten minutes give me what I’ve been looking for since the beginning of Volume Six? No. It’s easy to assume it did because all the pieces are there. Ironwood is finally angry about the secret keeping. The Ace Ops are criticizing the group left and right. Surely this is the “The group is capable of making mistakes and they should be called out for it!” that I wanted, right? Not really. For the simple reason that there is a massive difference between:

A story that acknowledges mistakes as mistakes. The characters either grow from this lesson or dig in their heels and are painted as being in the wrong for that decision.

and

A story that takes what the audience (me) perceives as mistakes and frames them as justified choices. The characters do not grow because they’re 100% sure they’re in the right and those who would criticize them are painted as in the wrong.

“Gravity” is so far into that second option I don’t think the series can come back from it. Does the group face criticism? Yes, but every single time the writing insists that it’s undeserved criticism. It paints the group as the underdogs facing unfair odds, rather than equals---with all the responsibility that comes with that---facing criticism that they need to own up to. Absolutely nothing in this second half implies that the group is going to learn from their mistakes because they, and the writing, still insists that they weren’t mistakes. Which is precisely what we’ve gotten before. Cordovin might criticism them, but Cordovin is in the wrong. Winter might criticism them, but Winter is in the wrong. Every time a character goes, “Hey, you shouldn’t have done this” the group responds with, “Yes we should have!” and the story backs them up. Yes, you should have attacked Argus. Yes, you should have stolen an airship. Yes, you should have lied to Ironwood and spilled the secret to Robyn. Yes, yes, yes. That’s the takeaway every single time. The group is never in the wrong. Others just think they are and those others are painted as cruel, militaristic, unhinged characters.

It’s not at all what I was looking for. Just more of the same.

So that’s the preface. In terms of what we actually get, Ironwood returns to his office with his arm bandaged and in a sling, carrying Watts’ bag, only to drop it when he sees the queen piece on his desk. He calls Winter asking, “Was anyone caught entering the school grounds while I was away?” and when she says no Ironwood has her race off to the Winter Maiden, unknowingly leading Cinder there in the process. “Now show me where you’ve been hiding her.”

We then cut to the group where the trouble begins. They’re not just curious about why Ironwood is recalling them with Mantle still in need of evacuation, they’re actively questioning it. This is the attitude I simply don’t understand. The group acts as if Ironwood is deliberately screwing everyone over when they know better. This is no longer the beginning of the volume where they thought he was some horrific dictator hell bent on destroying his own Kingdom. This is just an hour or so after, “We should tell Ironwood!” and the happy-go-lucky ‘We trust him now’ moment. Even less time after Ruby stared up at him in awe with, “He’s doing it.” They had reason to trust him before they even made it to Atlas. They were given even more reasons in the form of Ironwood sharing his secrets, early licenses, and being allowed to work on the tower. They then still waited until Ironwood was doing everything they wanted before giving him some of that trust back... but the moment he stops doing precisely what they want---we want to keep evacuating Mantle---he’s deemed suspicious again.

I mean seriously, is the group that dense? Are they incapable of thinking to themselves, “Wow, something must have happened if Ironwood is recalling us before evacuations are complete,” which is precisely the case. The scene tries to frame it as “Group Good” and “Ace Ops Blinding Obeying Orders Bad” but that aspect doesn’t even come into play. There’s nothing blind about it. It simply takes two seconds of critical thinking skills to realize that something really awful must have happened back at the Academy that trumps what you’re doing in Mantle. This is what I mean by the writing being biased. Before we even reach the fight in Ironwood’s office it’s trying to paint him as potentially cruel, potentially suspicious, potentially abandoning his people, look how worried our heroes are about this secret decision he’s made... when all that requires ignoring some really basic deduction in order to reach those assumptions. Remember that intelligence is a plot device in RWBY. If they want Ironwood forced to spill his secrets, he’ll randomly start talking about them in front of his enemies. If they want Ironwood painted as the villain, the group will randomly be incapable of realizing that maybe, just maybe, something went wrong on the home front and you’re needed there.

Things just get so much worse from then on. The group splits with JNR going off to find Oscar and, admittedly, I was shocked we got that at all. I mean yeah, it’s setup for the final reveal at the end of the episode, but the fact that anyone remembered Oscar was missing---let alone happily went off to find him---was still a surprise. So only Team RWBY heads back to Ironwood’s office where they find him (rightfully) panicking over the queen on his desk. Weiss tries to baby him, acting like he’s freaking out over nothing, when all these characters should recall precisely what Ironwood himself points out: the last time we saw this symbol it was a message that Beacon had fallen. He’s not paranoid here. He’s entirely justified in his panic. Ironwood likewise points out that they may have been duped into bringing thousands of people into Atlas as easy targets and Vine agrees, setting up that the Ace Ops are on Team Ironwood throughout the course of this conversation. Not out of blind loyalty, but because he’s right. That is a concern. That may be the plan. We do need to try and do something about that. Team RWBY, however, isn’t convinced.

That is, until Ruby realizes that the chess piece is made of black glass. Which means Cinder left it. Normally I’d congratulate her on that deduction---it is the one smart move we see Ruby pull this whole episode---but I just hate what follows. Namely that Ruby and Ruby alone controls her team’s opinions on a situation. Again. We saw it back in the snow, then again when Blake announced in the elevator that they’d do whatever she wanted. Team RWBY is the one who blindly follows their leader, not the Ace Ops, the only exception being Blake and Yang going rogue in regards to Robyn, but we see that hive-mind mindset here again. Ironwood brings up a good point? Nothing. Ace Ops support that point with more logic? Nothing. Ruby supports it? Oh, suddenly Weiss and Blake are taking this seriously. Suddenly Yang is fired up and ready to do whatever is necessary. Ruby controls the room. It’s only when she’s on board that her teammates decide this is worth getting riled up about.

Which, as I’ve said before, is a horrible way to write a diverse group. Especially when the writing is trying to paint the Ace Ops as mindless soldiers. For all their claims that they just have to follow orders, they’re the only ones parsing through this situation and coming to their own conclusions. It’s just that their conclusions do end up aligning with Ironwood’s which is the “bad” take in this scene. Team RWBY, however, waits until their leader makes a decision and then simply rides her cloak tails. The day that Blake, Yang, or Weiss legitimately disagree with Ruby---not a token “Are you sure we should keep secrets from Ironwood? We’re not actually challenging this. Just checking in”---is the day the writing will disagree with her. AKA, no time soon.

Blake tries to give some bland reassurance about them all being with Ironwood to which he responds, “Are you with me? How did Robyn know about the global communications tower?” Thank you! Thank you for giving us Ironwood’s characterization back and acknowledging that he has no reason to buy their generic ‘Got your back’ statements when everything they’ve done this volume has proven otherwise. They don’t support Ironwood, only themselves and their own teams. The minute he does something they don’t like he’s chucked under the bus. Too bad the writing doesn’t acknowledge any of this and instead continually paints the group as being justified in their decisions. It’s that hypocrisy again. When the group yells at Ozpin for keeping secrets we’re supposed to be on their side. When the Ace Ops yell at the group for keeping secrets we’re... still supposed to be on their side.

Weiss tries to diffuse the situation with “None of this matters right now!” which is real rich when they were just complaining about Ironwood not telling them why they were called back. They get to worry over that, but Ironwood isn’t allowed to worry about them outright betraying him? “Loyalty always matters!” he shouts back and he’s right. Why should Ironwood trust them to have his back in this crucial moment when they’ve never had it before? I’m already seeing more of this hypocrisy among the fandom. When Ozpin kept secrets and told lies the group was given a whole volume to be pissed about that and fans still, to this very day, insist that it hasn’t been enough time for them to get over it, to regain even a portion of that trust. But now that Ironwood has been lied to and betrayed in the same manner? People are annoyed that he’s not just shrugging it off. How dare you not get over in thirty seconds what our heroes got weeks to work through. His inability to just suck it up, as it were, is used to make him seem irrational here. I don’t see anyone, characters or fans alike, acknowledging that his anger is as righteous as the group’s was out in the snow. That there is the disconnect.

Of course, something has to break the tension. Drawn by all the fury and fear, a grimm pops out of Watts’ bag. A fail-safe for if he was defeated and captured. Salem immediately takes control of the grimm and kills it, using its form to appear before them. She reveals that it doesn’t matter that her men were captured. They were just there to “set the stage,” which they’ve done. Still doesn’t explain the random Penny side plot to my mind (seriously, why did the story bother to resurrect her when she has done nothing plot-wise or emotionally?), but whatever. Much more importantly, the stage is set for Salem herself. She’s approaching with the grimm army we saw her amassing which is... iffy.

First off, why? Why after a thousand years has she suddenly changed her MO from keeping to the sidelines to a full-on attack? Again, what’s the catalyst for that massive change? We don’t know. Meanwhile, from a writing perspective, I’m hesitant about having our Big Bad thrown into the mix before the finale. We know there are plenty of volumes left in this series, which automatically undermines any battle they might have with Salem. Will they win?? Of course not! Because RWBY isn’t over yet. Granted, this could all just be a ruse of some sort. Maybe Salem just wants them to think she’s approaching with an army, which would be much more up her alley in terms of long-distance manipulation. But if not... seriously, what’s the point of that?

Here’s hoping it’s a bluff.

Speaking of manipulation, we get a fantastically creepy moment where Salem tells Ironwood to “simply accept the futility of your situation” while smiling like a kind mother. That’s the Salem who is truly dangerous. Ironwood reaffirms that he won’t give up the relics and Ruby pips up with, “We don’t have to kill you to stop you.”

Hey wait. I’m gonna give you all another graphic.

This is Ozpin’s stance! This is his plan! His version of hope! We spent all of Volume Six having the cast beat on him for, “Omg Salem is immortal?!” and with the exception of Nora’s comment, no discussion of this in Volume Seven... but now suddenly Ruby is making this announcement? The group came to this revelation sometime off screen which we a) don’t get to see and b) once again created no scenario in the form of, “Wow! Ozpin was right all along! Maybe we should go talk to him...”

I’m just... wow. The number of times the writing takes what the group and the adults do, the exact same perspectives and decisions, and twists it so that the group comes out looking like heroes and the adults look like misguided, unhinged fools who need to be put in their place... I’m really over it at this point. And by extension the group themselves. Their characterizations have been so badly mangled at this point I legitimately don’t like them as people. I don’t care if they say they want to protect Mantle, or if they say they’ll support Ironwood, or if they say they’re unsure about their choices. All their actions claim otherwise.

Rather than grappling with the huge revelation that the group is apparently no longer obsessed with Salem’s immortality (or rather that Ruby isn’t. The rest of the group doesn’t actually matter. As established, they sync up with her beliefs the second she announces them), we return to Summer Rose. Salem goes, “Your mother said those words to me” and Ruby... loses it? What? I would have been 100% on board with this if we’d gotten it last Volume because then we saw Ruby losing her cool periodically. The smashed alcohol bottles. Chucking her scroll. Screaming at Qrow. That was all building to something. But then we had a year and roughly twelve episodes of normality. Ruby jumps into her fight with Cordovin and has been fine ever since. Hell, she’s been bubbly and confident, goofing off with Penny in one episode, then giving strong orders to her team in another. The one time we see her falter was in her conversation with Qrow and he reassured her completely that she was both doing the right thing and in no way comparable to Ozpin. Now, suddenly, one line from Salem and Ruby collapses? Full on incapacitated? I could buy the crying while still standing strong, I could buy a collapse if we’d kept her characterization going from Volume Six, but this kind of reaction in this context just felt so extreme. Doesn’t help that I really wasn’t sold on the voice acting here. Those cries sound less like devastated sobs and more like weird hiccups. Not to rag on Lindsay. On the whole I think she does a really excellent job as Ruby, it’s just this particular moment didn’t read right to me. I didn’t feel Ruby’s supposed grief here.

So that was... a lot for one line from Salem in a volume of otherwise confident and cool-headed Ruby. We also don’t see it amounting to anything, as per usual with RWBY’s writing. Ruby isn’t out of commission for the rest of the conversation or anything. She pops right back up after a second in Yang’s lap, just as confident and go-getting as before. There was no lead up to this and there are no consequences for the breakdown. Rooster Teeth honestly seems to think they can just chuck random things into the story---Ruby needs to show emotion at some point!---and then just leave it at that, entirely disconnected from everything else around it. Would we have known that Ruby just had her first breakdown of the series a minute later while once again betraying Ironwood? Nope.

Finally, this scene shows us again that the Argus battle was a bunch of nonsense. Ruby’s eyes nearly activate when she’s grieving for her mother, imagining---or perhaps seeing via Salem?---a sad Summer, not a smiling one. Just like her eyes activated while seeing Pyrrha die. Just like they activated when Blake was nearly killed by the Apathy. They activate now while thinking about her mother’s death. The montage of happy moments in lieu of the sad ones not working last volume was entirely out of place.

Salem finally leaves. Now everyone is panicking about this army. Elm points out that they’ll know if anything approaches. Vine checks and realizes that Watts took out their perimeter. Either that or Salem has already destroyed everyone and everything out there. It’s impossible to know. During all this Blake asks if the Amity tower is actually finished and we get more nonsense about how Ironwood is evil for telling a lie, but the group is always justified in telling theirs. The writing really tried to compare Ironwood telling Mantle---who I guarantee 100% does not care about whether a communications tower is finished while they’re getting attacked by grimm---a lie to lure out one of their biggest threats to Blake and Yang going behind Ironwood’s back to tell a potentially non-trustworthy outlaw about said tower, risking that the information would fall into the wrong hands and doom the project before it could be completed either way. Those are not in any way comparable situations, yet the writing really has Weiss going, “General Ironwood?” in a ‘How could you betray us like that?’ tone while Yang continues to look pissed.

And as if they didn’t know! How is this a personal betrayal? They were all helping to build that tower. Surely they’d know it it was that close to being done. Again, critical thinking skills, people. Anyone with two brain cells and their insider information should have looked at Ironwood’s announcement and gone, “Oh, that must be a bluff. Just a few days ago we were arguing about whether to continue taking resources from Mantle. No way is Amity ready. He’s going after Watts. Who is indeed the much bigger threat. Considering that he has control over the entirety of our technology and there’s literally no downside to telling Mantle about a finished tower when they’re getting devoured by grimm.” This is another, “But lying is wrong!” in the face of “But lying kept us alive...?”

Does everyone get what I’m saying here? How RWBY takes these situations and tries to paint them in an absolutely ridiculous light, expecting the audience to blindly accept this perspective despite everything else they’ve seen for themselves? Like, two episodes ago? I swear I’ve never encountered writing that treats its audience this badly. Scene after scene relies heavily on the viewer having no ability to think for themselves. Just accept that Ironwood is a horrible person for lying about the tower even though there are no repercussions for that and we JUST watched him defeating Watts as a result. Like, five minutes ago. That just happened. In this episode.

Ironwood then drops the bomb that Winter has gone off to claim the Maiden power. Interesting development. I wonder what that means exactly. Is she just going to lock herself away until the Maiden dies naturally? Do they have her on some sort of life support and is there an agreement to pull the plug if necessary? Are they going to use a machine similar to the one Pyrrha was in and try to force the change early? Or is this just a misleading comment and Winter is merely off to protect the Maiden, no intention of taking the power now? Who knows. We’ll have to wait until next episode to find out.

Ironwood likewise announces that the staff and the lamp need to be locked away now that they’re compromised, even though they’ve been compromised since they first saw Tyrian in Mantle. Insert another [this scenario is so stupid and contrived] explanation here. It’s made worse by Ruby’s childish “You said we could keep it.” Excuse me? What, did you think the lamp was your personal property now forever and always? Is Ruby really sitting there arguing that something Ironwood told her weeks ago trumps the obvious logic of putting the relic where it’s somewhere safe? That’s the characterization we’re going for, a leader who cares more about, ‘But you said we could have it!’ over the fate of the world? What even is this? The fact that Ironwood has to explain to them that the situation has changed just reinforces the group’s overall attitude. That is, one of arrogance and importance. They literally need to be told why putting the relic in a nearly impenetrable vault is better than letting them have it just because they want it. Plus, you know, they lied about the lamp from the start. So there’s that too.

Finally, Ironwood reveals that Amity was originally a plan of Ozpin’s but he didn’t push it far enough. Instead, he intends to use the staff to lift all of Atlas instead, hopefully taking two relics and a Maiden far out of Salem’s reach. Ruby wants to use the tower for its designed purpose instead, which is only a valid option in her mind because the writing was stupid last week. If there had actually been any logic there---if people had been allowed to react naturally and in a variety of ways to the Salem announcement, rather than a super convenient “Yeah! Let’s all work together!” across an entire, panicking city---she wouldn’t be quite so eager to tell the whole world. But we all know at this point that logic bends to the protagonists’ whims, so Ruby wants that same perfect ending across all of Remnant. She stands her ground, as does her team. Obviously.

Meanwhile, the Ace Ops aren’t just following Ironwood’s orders like the writing wants us to think via Harriet’s earlier comment. Rather, they’re each thinking through the situation for themselves and making very good points. If Salem has taken out our perimeter than we know our tech and people don’t stand a chance against this army. We just finished up the fight in Mantle and none of us are in a position to start another. Notably, Harriet brings this up, the one whose aura took a massive hit while nearly getting crushed underfoot. Vine points out that sometimes you have to lose a battle to win the war, but Team RWBY, to be blunt, simply doesn’t care.

I’ll be blunt myself here too: I don’t have an easy solution to this particular scenario. I don’t know what the “right” or the “wrong” choice is. Weighing starting a fight with VERY high stakes you’ll lose against abandoning the people of Mantle is just a straight up horrific decision. Like so much of what Ozpin faced, there is no clear-cut, good answer here. Do you stand by the people and risk the world, or work to save the world and doom the people? I don’t know and I do commend Rooster Teeth for writing a difficult choice... just not in giving each side the weight it deserves. Because as said, we’re meant to root for Team RWBY, always. Theirs is presented as the “right” choice every time, despite the fact that, as established, this is far from a black and white decision.

What frustrates me the most is when faced with all of these logical and very important considerations (we might not have backup, we’re in no position to fight, if Salem gets the relics and another Maiden the world is screwed) the group won’t even acknowledge these things. They’re so set in their own perspective they won’t even give these HUGE concerns the time of day. Rather, Yang shoots back, “You can’t just back down from a fight!”

That’s it. That’s the group’s problem in a single line.

This is what got Pyrrha killed.

It’s something the group should remember. She also insisted on fighting when she should have retreated and, since this was back during the days when characters actually faced consequences for their actions, it cost Pyrrha her life. Granted, going after Cinder was a truly useless endeavor. Pyrrha achieved nothing with her sacrifice. Here, Team RWBY hopes to save the people of Mantle, adding a clear justification for their insistence on fighting... but this is nevertheless indicative of that larger “punch it until it stops moving” mindset. It’s not that they decide to fight instead of retreating that’s the problem, it’s that to their mind fighting is the only option. Ever. This is what led to them attacking Cordovin and destroying Argus’ mech, drawing a massive grimm in the process. When faced with the option of backing down, Team RWBY doesn’t consider that an option at all. Which is heroic when up against an actual enemy, far less so when you’re facing an ally and the choice to fight has serious repercussions attached to it. Hell, the group doesn’t even consider compromises. They could have easily acknowledged that collecting the relics, the Maiden, and getting the staff to work on Atlas will take time. You do that while we focus on evacuating the rest of Mantle to the city. But no, even the concept of a compromise simply isn’t possible. You just always fight. Straight up. Anyone who suggests anything less isn’t a true huntsmen. “We’re loyal to the people!” Ruby shouts, as if “the people” doesn’t also include the rest of the world that Ironwood is trying to save and that they’re endangering by keeping the relics and Maiden within Salem’s reach.

That is one messed up perspective to tout in a story infused with the complex and the morally gray.

The real kicker though? Ruby’s ‘My way or the highway’ attitude obliterates a solution that fell straight into her lap. Jaune calls and says straight out that they have another situation. If Ruby had listened to her teammate for just three seconds they all would have learned about Oscar, thereby undermining Ironwood’s plan. He can’t keep the lamp safe if he doesn’t know where it is. You look for it while, again, we evacuate Mantle. Then we take everything out of Salem’s reach. Win-win. Instead, Ruby blasts her way through the situation. Literally, dodging Ironwood and hiding behind his desk shouting a highly bias version of his plan in the hopes of getting everyone on her side. And it works.

Because those like Clover don’t get to hear any of that context. Like how the perimeter is gone, there’s an army potentially coming, no one is in a position to fight, we’ve already lost a relic... they just here a Ruby’s version of events that paints Ironwood as the callous man Robyn thought he was---oh my god he’s abandoning Mantle for no good reason!---and people will react accordingly. Ruby likewise doesn’t care that shouting such information over all channels does things like, say, clue Tyrian into their plan. She just wants to do things her way, right now. Pausing to think (because thinking isn’t fighting) simply doesn’t happen.

I used to adore Ruby as a hero. Someone who was intrinsically good, hopeful, and wickedly clever in her ability to come out on top. Now she’s stubborn, arrogant, at times cruel, and charges in headfirst like her sister, refusing to consider any perspective other than her own. And her team endlessly supports that. The writing endlessly supports that. This isn’t our hero working through her flaws, but rather a flawed character that the writing refuses to acknowledge is flawed. When Ruby flies behind Ironwood’s desk the music rises triumphantly, just like it did when she attacked Cordovin’s mech. When Ironwood announces that they’re under arrest, Ruby spits back, “We won’t just let you take us” and we’re supposed to cheer.

Which brings us back to the question of whether the group really faced consequences here. Let me give you all a random, non-RWBY example of two scenes. Scenario One:

Parent: You punched her?

Teen: She insulted me!

Parent: I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you were justified in attacking her.

Teen: Oh, I was.

Parent: Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t, but you can’t solve all your problems that way.

Teen: I... I know that, okay. Back off. I just get so angry...

Parent: I know. We’re going to work on that. You’re grounded this weekend. We can discuss this more then.

Teen: [sighs] Fine.

vs. Scenario Two:

Parent: You punched her?

Teen: She insulted me!

Parent: I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you were justified in attacking her.

Teen: Oh, I was.

Parent: Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t, but you can’t solve all your problems that way.

Teen: Screw you! It worked didn’t it? I think a good punch goes a long way.

Parent: That’s not... okay look. You’re grounded this weekend so---

Teen: Like hell I am. [Proceeds to run off]

Teen: [Later to friend] ---and then she tried to ground me? Can you believe that?

Friend: Holy shit what an asshole.

If we put aside my own iffy dialogue for the moment, Scenario One acknowledges the complexity of the situation while likewise pointing out that the teen didn’t handle herself well. RWBY has achieved that here: the ethics of this scenario are acknowledged as complicated, but the group did things they shouldn’t have, as evidence by Ironwood’s anger and the Ace Ops’ criticism. However, Scenario One goes on to let the teen acknowledge that mistake, thereby validating it in the first place. A consequence is set, grounding, and they accept that, thereby further validating that their behavior needs work. They accept the consequence because both they and the writing acknowledge that the consequence is deserved. It takes what was previously two subjective stances---they say I’m wrong, I say I’m right---and encourages the audience to find the middle ground. Neither was totally wrong or right. The teen might be justified in some respects, but still made mistakes in others. She needs to improve.

RWBY, however, steers firmly into Scenario Two wherein the teen (Team RWBY) insists points blank that they never made mistakes in the first place, thereby encouraging the audience to question whether Ironwood and the Ace Ops (the parent) is right to be calling them out at all. We see no humility or guilt, only confidence. Ruby shouting “No!” at Cordovin when she’s told to surrender. Yang keeping silent after admitting that she and Blake told Robyn, not bothering to apologize or admit that this might have been a breech of trust. They challenge the validity of the claim that mistakes were made and by virtue of being protagonists encourage the audience to challenge it too. Finally, we see them reject the consequence because they will not admit that it’s deserved. The teen will not accept a grounding. Ruby: “We won’t just let you take us.” We’re then told by others that this rejection was warranted. The friend reinforces the view that the teen was right to run because that punishment is undeserved. The message is, “You never did anything wrong in the first place.” The plot of RWBY likewise reinforces the view that resisting Cordovin’s arrest was right by having her randomly let the group go. The consequence is replaced with a reward and, presumably, we’ll have a similar situation wherein the group either defeats the Ace Ops or is released by them. The consequences never take hold because the writing doesn’t think there should be consequences in the first place. Team RWBY isn’t going to be arrested here. They’re certainly not acknowledging that on some level they deserve to be. We didn’t see that humility while they were cuffed on the airship---that most basic acknowledgement of, “Did we make some mistakes? Could we have done something better? Is Ironwood right to be this mad?”---and there’s none of it now here, either. The tone is pure, “How dare you try and arrest us? We’re the good guys here!”

This remains as pro-protagonist as it has been the last two volumes. There are no consequences, only another hurdle for the group to overcome, painted as heroes for doing so. It’s Team RWBY vs. The Ace Ops and there’s no confusion about who we’re supposed to be rooting for. The Ace Ops because the group should rightly be stopped from hindering Ironwood’s attempts to keep the relics and a Maiden out of Salem’s hands, for their own lies and secret keeping that endangered them all this volume? Nope. It’s Team RWBY as the presumed heroes, facing off against soldiers who (supposedly) prioritize orders over what’s “right.”

And yeah, Oscar is gone. There are a number of dismantled robots and blaster fire in the room where Neo presumably took him. So unless they do a flashback we don’t get to see if/how Ozpin reacted to this initial attack. I hope they do provide a flashback because otherwise that’s another crucial scene of Oscar’s that happened off screen...

Can’t wait to see what else we’ll end up with next week! Until then, 💜

#rwby #rwby volume 7 #rwby volume 7 spoilers #rwby recaps #mymetas

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cosmicpeko · 4 years

Text

“Christmas Night” | FuyuPeko Christmas Exchange

Word count: 1,787

OTP: Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu x Peko Pekoyama | Danganronpa 2

Story type: Fanfiction

Short summary: Following the end of the Hope Restoration Program, everyone in the Future Foundation headquarters was ready to spend another night in recovery and rehabilitation. Fuyuhiko, however, who managed to regain track of the time and date, was able to find out that night was not like any other. And he had just the perfect person in mind to tell first.

Important notes: This is my gift/fic for the FuyuPeko Christmas Exchange event hosted by @may-we-have-peace! The user I’ve been assigned was @flannelspacegay and since I wasn’t given any prompts, I tried my best with the ones I had in store ;_; Please remember English is not my first language so there might be some grammar mistakes or things that don’t make sense? Anyway enjoy this will be super short!

Read on AO3

ㅡ

"Won't you sleep a little?"

Between the greasy white walls of room 102 echoed the wind, howling cold from its half-closed, only window. That's how Peko knew it was winter ㅡ the freezing air sliced her cheeks. Since she woke up, she had been rebellious to any sort of request for some reason ㅡ including those of the guard nurses to leave the window closed, so that the toxic fog of the outside wouldn't enter the building's rooms and corridors. Reluctant to give up in spite of the many reminders, Peko's room was assigned an air filtration machine, which unstoppably produced some kind of metallic noise that would keep Peko awake.

Fuyuhiko, on the other side of the room, kept looking at her, leaning with all his weight on the door he had closed behind him. The change in temperature between room 102 and the rest of the building was enough to make Fuyuhiko shiver, but he decided on trying not to antagonize her by forcing the nurses requests on her newly rebellious self ㅡ rather, he carefully approached the little, uncomfortable mattress where Peko's bony, thin body was resting. He helped her be seated then, so that she would feel at ease looking at him on the same height. Her composure always made her look like a soldier, ready to receive an order any time.

Peko was unquestionably skinny ㅡ her athletic structure had been lost during months of unconscious fasting. Although everyone was constantly fed during the simulation, and that was also why Fuyuhiko hadn't lost much weight ㅡ those who were killed in Jabberwock Island entered a comatose state which made their body function irregularly. Depending on how much their body was into the coma, more physical damage was found, like PTSD*. That was also why Peko didn't speak.

As a result of the trauma experienced during her execution, her lungs, and her whole respiratory system was on the edge of collapse ㅡ as she could concretely feel the blades still pierce her body, she was having a hard time breathing. Oxygen depleted, starting again was an extremely difficult task for the swordswoman.

Fuyuhiko found more strength in helping her than helping himself.

Not one day would pass without him trying to guard and protect her, ignoring the rest of his classmates and sacrificing his own recovery. Being without her had been of excruciating pain ㅡ it took him so long to accept her death, until it was proven fake. Since then, a moment couldn't pass without him needing to make sure she was alive. So he wouldn't give up: he would stand before room 102 day and night, fighting whoever got in his way, waiting for visitation time ㅡ and everyone knew that time was Fuyuhiko's only. At night, surveillance was extended to the whole hall, so it was easier to dodge; and he knew he could be finally be with her without worrying or fighting.

The blonde took a sit next to her, facing her side with his entire body, emulating her composure.

"I found an old calendar in the guardhouse and spent the afternoon doing the math. I couldn't wait to tell you what's up today."

Peko, who was deeply insomniac and a little confused, rubbed her tired eyes with her hands and goggled a little, struggling to see without her glasses but still trying to focus on his face, giving him a sign of her attention.

Fuyuhiko smirked again, delighted.

"I think you could tell by my freezing ass-" the girl's sudden coughing caught him by surprise for a second, but while trying to make sure she was okay, he found out she cracked under a little laugh. It took a while before Peko got on her track again, struggling to breath, but visibly humored. He continued, "...but this is Christmas night. It's officially december 25th."

Only by mentioning Christmas, the blonde had Peko beaming. She raised both her eyebrows, then melted in a sweet, little smile. Christmas had always been an important tradition for the Kuzuryuu family. Both Fuyuhiko's mother and father, although very conservative and loyal to the culture of old Japan, adopted this western recurrence for their family. During Christmas night, they used to hide presents and sweets all over the house for their children to find. That Peko knew, because every year, she would be sent from her Master and his sister to find all the hiding spots, making it hard for the Kuzuryuu's to think about more clever solutions for the following year. Just by remembering, she could feel the house's warmth intensely on her skin ㅡ she could picture the oven in the kitchen, too high for her at the time to reach, in constant function, while Fuyuhiko's nanny was busy cooking all kinds of dishes for the day, both western and Japanese.

The boy could notice Peko's smile even though she tried to hide it by lowing her head slightly, letting her silvery hair slide on her shoulders ㅡ only that sight was enough to make him smile two-to-three times brighter.

"You remember, right?! 'Tis a special night, this one, Peko!"

That was the first time in years she had seen her like that ㅡ he thought nothing was going to ruin that moment for them. Nonetheless, they were conscious of the fact that those moments were not to come back anymore.

Brainwashed by despair, they were guilty of many crimes ㅡ including killing their family and masters, who they loved deeply, burning their house down, massacring the closest members of their clan and guiding the rest into their same madness. They couldn't remember any of it, and probably didn't know about it, but they could feel it. But even with that, they weren't able to feel sad or guilty ㅡ like if that ability was surgically removed from their brains. Evil lurked around them without ever touching them. They, who were once despair embodied, were blessed to be born again, could never be infected again.

"I hid something for you to be found, yesterday." now calmer, Fuyuhiko searched for the swordswoman's attention, who immediately raised her head again at his level. That alone was enough to make Peko blush lightly. Her tired, but still flaming red eyes regained strength immediately, as they started flashing quickly from a corner of the room to the other, analyzing the blonde's body and behind his back, with the same curiosity a child would have if they exchanged places ㅡ trying her best, she also moved her body to better observe her surroundings, resulting in a big laugh from Fuyuhiko's side.

However, he decided to anticipate her and unveil the secret, preventing her to make too much of an effort ㅡ he knew she would complete any task for him, to the point of putting her life at risk.

Getting up on his feet, and lowing his back, he managed to pull out from under the mattress what seemed to Peko like a piece of fabric. It took a while to realize that piece of fabric the other was holding was effectively stuffed and shaped as a little panda ㅡ her favourite animal. The black was heavily marked with some kind of ink that resembled that of a pen. The eyes were badly sewn buttons. Overall, it looked creepy. But she couldn't help but feeling overwhelmed ㅡ she freezed, as she was holding the little gift too close to her eyes, trying to capture every detail without her glasses.

Confused by her reaction, Fuyuhiko pouted. "I managed to shape a metallic spring from my bed as a sewing needle with the little knowledge I have of crafting, and literally sewn my sheets." he lowed his head, embarassed, "That's honestly trash, but like, I thought you could use some company when I'm not around."

Lost in his own words, he didn't realize until he heard it, that Peko was sobbing lightly, challenging her own lungs.

Since her awakening, every little emotion had a huge impact on her. From not being capable of feeling much - as she taught to, from a very young age - she was suddenly weak to any small change of mood. To Fuyuhiko, it was like returning to planet Earth and crushing on its surface. He rushed towards her again, sat on the bed, and cupped her face with his hands while brushing away her tears with his thumbs. "Shit- please don't cry," he panicked instantly, and more so when Peko slightly rubbed her cheeks onto his hands, cuddling slowly ㅡ that would be reassuring, if it wasn't Peko he had before him. Something clearly changed after the whole experience in Jabberwock Island.

He took a while to understand what the swordswoman was trying to say. She was happy ㅡ and that was her way of communicating her newly discovered feelings. "We're the only ones left," Fuyuhiko whispered, "who can carry on our family's legacy." His hands slided on her shoulders and arms, until he finally grabbed her hands again. "I don't wanna do it without you, Peko." Hope was good, he thought. He couldn't help but smile because as he watched her being vulnerable and tired, he could see his future ㅡ a bright future, where a thousand more of Christmas nights would happen, and they would spend them in a proper room, where pretty lights would replace those of the beeping machinery above her head, and the heat of an actual house would surround them instead of the cold wind Peko was so stubborn not to defend herself from ㅡ just to feel alive. A future where they would be togheter.

Peko was in love with that hope ㅡ and she was in love with Fuyuhiko. Love doesn't need words, and it goes far, it goes beyond the devotion and the loyalty of a tool. She opened her lips softly.

"Thank you..."

The boy was left astonished by that attempt of hers, but deep down, he knew that was the right time for her to do it.

He kept smirking, literally on the moon. Moving his body towards her, he gently guided her head against his own chest, then rested a cheek among her silver hair. Peko could feel his heartbeat through his bones ㅡ so fragile, yet so powerful. To her, it was all so natural, just meant to be. So she closed her eyes, soothed by that rhythm, and immediately fell asleep, squeezing the little gift she received that night in her thin arms.

Fuyuhiko found out a while later, but kept hugging her and rocking back and forth, like he was holding just the most delicate thing in the world.

"I can't wait to spend my life with you."

ㅡ

Everyone, meri christmis (~￣³￣)~

#i love kuzupeko yall #christmas ff #danganronpa #Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu #Peko Pekoyama #kuzupeko #pandas are cute as hecc #but what about peko without glasses and unbraided hair #fuyuhiko is in love and so am i #i hope you love it

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maevemarethyu · 3 years

Text

The Pack (2/?)

(Not my GIF)

(Bucky Barnes x Reader)

The Night Wolves. New York’s most prolific and secretive gang. Always watching yet somehow always out of reach. Always slipping through the Avengers grasp.

Until they got you.

You were a street rat. A grunt working for the most gruesome group of criminals New York had ever seen.

Captain America wasn’t expecting much when they brought you in, he certainly wasn’t expecting you and his best friend to get along so well. You were a courier, nothing more.

Or so they thought.

Warnings: Violence, Cursing, Talks of Murder, Actual Murder, Talks of Abuse, Kidnapping, Depictions of Abuse, Crude Humor, Sexual Humor, Bucky Barnes (because he needs a warning all in himself), Sad Boi Hours.

You spent the next day and a half sulking in your room as one does when they’re being hunted down by an organization of murderous thugs hellbent of destroying New York City’s peace.

Or, at least you think that’s how one would act if that were happening.

Despite Sam’s attempts at brightening your day and Steve’s encouraging speech, you feel most at ease when Barnes metal hand raps on your door, barely loud enough to be heard and ever so polite.

“It’s almost dinner time. Steve wants to know if you feel up to joining us tonight.” You never thought you’d be able to say that you could hear velvet until you met Bucky Barnes but, you count yourself lucky you can. That man’s voice should be illegal.

You’re about to say no just as you had last night when he speaks again. “Wanda’s coming home tonight.”

You bite back the groan that wants to crawl up your throat. You had made it seem that you were a bit too interested in the Witch. Turning down the opportunity to meet her would definitely raise some suspicions.

Shutting the laptop that had been provided to you, you shuffle to the door before opening it a crack; the mask of Valerie Mason slipping onto your face easily.

“R-Really?” You ask timidly, your voice an octave higher that normal. You have to crane your neck to look into his ocean eyes but, the way he smiles at you makes it worth it. Criminal.

Everything about this man was criminal. Figuratively and literally.

“Yeah. She’s excited for there to be another girl in the compound; especially after-“ His voice trails off and his smile disappears. You didn’t need to ask why. You knew what happened to the Black Widow and Iron Man and everyone else who sacrificed their lives to stop Thanos.

Heroes. Each and every one of them.

You want to resent them for it, you were everything they weren’t but, you couldn’t. Not when you were aware of what would have happened if they didn’t save the day. You’d be dead. Flora and Maeve too.

Even your cat Gracie would have been wiped and that would not have flown with you.

Barnes clears his throat, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Oh. I-Is there a dress code?” There sure as hell was one at your place but, that was only when there were guests.

“It’s Wanda’s choice. She normally asks us to wear pajamas and watch movies.” If you squinted, you swore that you could see the faintest blush on the man’s face.

A movie night was something you were familiar with and you could appreciate the Scarlet Witch’s way to wind down after a mission but, there was one small problem.

“I don’t actually have any pajamas. I didn’t get to pack a bag before I left.” You mutter, finding it difficult to bite back the Cheshire grin that wanted to grow on your face. If you had your way, the sleeping clothes you would have pack would not have been movie night appropriate.

Maybe you’d show him some day. If he were lucky.

Confusion shines on his handsome face like a beacon and his next words prove to you that Bucky Barnes doesn’t think before he speaks.

“Then what did you sleep in last night?”

Your silence answers his question and the slight blush from before darkens visibly much to your amusement.

“It’s fine I can just-“ Your attempt to put him out of his own misery is thwarted when he coughs suddenly, making you believe he had somehow forgotten how to breathe.

“No! Sorry. Its- Wait here.” He leaves you dazed and confused when he nearly sprints from your door and down the hall.

You have half a mind to close your door and go back to watching Derek Morgan kick down doors but, the other half of your mind was curious to see what the hell Barnes was doing.

The curious side wins out so you open your door fully and poke your head into the hallway just in time to see him emerge from a door down the hall with a dark red bundle in his hands.

Ducking back into your room before he can catch you spying on him, you manage to trip over your own feet and land on the floor with a loud thud. By the time you manage to pull your eyes up from the floor in front of you, Barnes is standing in your doorway, blocking out most of the light from the hall with his hulking frame.

You should be embarrassed but, the first and only thought in your brain is how this was not the way you wanted to end up on your knees for Bucky Barnes.

“You okay?” His worried voice slaps you back into reality and a genuine heat creeps up your face when he offers you his hand. He’s pulling you up before you can fully take in how much larger his hand is than yours.

“I’m good, Sarge.” You huff, looking away from his face with a pout. “Just a klutz is all.”

Once again, the smile he gives you is borderline criminal before he seems to remember why he was here in the first place. His eyes find the floor increasingly interesting as he holds the bundle in his hands out to you and muttering something incomprehensible.

“What was that?” You hum, eager to regain whatever ground you can with the man. Despite it fitting the character of Valerie well, your pride refuses to let you be seen as some easily flustered, pining, girl.

You are Y/N Y/L/N. You do not pine.

“Wanda’s room is locked.” He tries to explain, still refusing to look you in your face. “You can use this.”

Realization creeps into your bones and you have to fight the cat-like grin that tries to grow. Unfolding the admittedly soft bundle, you hold the shirt up against your body.

Forget his hand. The man is huge.

To be safe, you’d wear your leggings under it but, you don’t really feel its necessary. You look back up at Bucky as a faint smile lights your face. He wanted you to wear his shirt.

How disgustingly thoughtful and cute.

“Thank you-“ You trail off, not sure what to really call him; your usual nickname of Sarge didn’t feel right in this situation.

“Bucky.” He supplies, finally looking at you. “You can call me Bucky.”

“Thank you Bucky.” You hope you sound sincere enough to hide your very insincere thoughts. Thankfully he looks none the wiser when your eyes lock onto his.

Logically the next step in this whole awkward exchange would be Bucky excusing himself and leaving so you could get changed but, that doesn’t happen. Instead he stands in your room shuffling from foot to foot.

You let a moment or two pass before speaking up.

“Uh, Bucky?” You begin.

“Yeah?” He perks up at the sound of your voice and a smile creeps onto your face at the sight.

“I kinda need to change and…”

“Shit right. I’ll just…go?” He begins backing out of your room. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Once your door is closed you can’t help but laugh out loud at his cringeworthiness. Who would have thought that the nightmare of villains everywhere like his shirts soft and could barely string a sentence together due too his social awkward nature.

Or maybe it was the decades of HYDRA torture he endured? That wasn’t your baggage to unpack.

Without further ado you strip off your two-day old shirt and pants before hopping into a boiling shower. You vaguely remember reading somewhere that hot showers were bad for both your skin and hair but, obviously the person that wrote that article didn’t understand the pleasure of nearly melting your skin off in the pursuit of cleanliness.

One thing the Stark shower had that yours didn’t was a small screen that allowed you to customize all of your showerly needs- shampoo, conditioner, bodywash, the whole shebang. You tack that onto the list of things to add to your new home once Maeve and Flora get you from this heavenly hellhole.

By the time you exit the shower your skin is hot to the touch and you smell like orange blossoms. The scent sticks to you even after you dry off and slip Barnes’ shirt over your head. It feels even softer than it did in your hands and you relish in it before wondering when the last time you wore someone else’s shirt. It had to have been before the Night Wolves.

Almost six years then.

You pause midway through putting on your leggings. Had it really been that long? You had started the Night Wolves, quite literally, the day after the Snap. You hit the ground running and you haven’t stopped since.

Maybe this month would be good for you. You could think of it as a forced vacation.

Unfortunately for you pausing mid way through putting on your pants has you falling over and ending up on your floor once more. The impact leaves you with a bruise on both your ass and your ego.

“Miss Valerie. Miss Maximoff will be landing in two minutes.” FRIDAY’s voice blips into existence and somehow adds to your embarrassment along with the paranoia that your room was bugged and all of the Avengers just listened and or watched you fall half-naked on your floor.

With the same grace as a newborn deer you manage to finish dressing. Looking up at the ceiling from your position on the floor, you can’t help but wonder what the Scarlet Witch was like. Was she snobby because she knew how powerful she was? Or was she sweet? Or sad?

You’d be sad if you went through what she went through. But, you didn’t. You went through your own shit and you’re angry.

You’re pissed off and spiteful and that spite is what has you walking to your door and pulling it open. You were going to meet the Scarlet Witch, you were going to survive this forced vacation, then you were going back to work, and then you were going to ring those street rats’ necks.

As soon as the hall lights hit your face, you plaster on the most believable mask you can and walk down the hall towards the kitchen you had briefly seen the day Bucky walked you in. Sooner than you had hoped, you hear the voices of both Wilson and Rogers echoing a bit too loudly for your liking.

The talking stops as soon as you enter the room. Much like that day in the interrogation room, you feel like you’re under a microscope as both men stare at you. Although, this time, you feel as though they’re not staring at you as much as they are staring at what’s on you.

It’s the Falcon that breaks the silence.

“Is that Buck’s shirt?” Your first instinct is to laugh at the incredulous looks on their faces but instead you eye the floor shyly. There’s a grunt and you’re guessing its because Steve landed a elbow to the Falcon’s gut.

“I-I don’t have any other clothes and Bucky offered so-“ You trail off while picking off imaginary lint from the shirt in question.

“You brought this woman here and didn’t even give her extra clothes?” A woman’s lightly accented voice brings your attention to the new presence in the room.

Wanda Maximoff is the type of beautiful that makes your heart skip a beat while your stomach curls in envy. She takes up a room when she steps in and you can feel the power radiating off of her even when she’s wearing mickey mouse pajama pants and a black tank top.

“Ah well. I mean Buck brought her right here after she almost got mugged the other day and-“

“She’s been here for more than a day and nobody thought to bring her clothes? Where is Pepper?”

Both men stutter instead of answering and the witch rolls her eyes before walking over to you and extending a hand. “I’m Wanda.”

Her smile is bright and very obviously real to the point you almost flinch. Thankfully you’re able to shake her hand without embarrassing yourself. “I’m Valerie and I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you.”

Valerie Mason slips over you like a blanket and suddenly you’re no longer Y/N Y/L/N. You don’t lead a ruthless group of murderers. You’re not a stone cold bitch.

You have a sick dad and help out your old neighbor with his shop. You live in a shitty apartment on the bad side of town. You’re innocent and safe under the watchful eyes of the Avengers.

You feel rather than see Bucky walk up behind you and you don’t miss the look Steve, Wanda, and Sam share. Chancing a glance behind you turns out to be an awful idea because if you thought the man was fine in street clothes, he’s absolutely sinful in a pair of grey sweats and long-sleeved undershirt that is definitely a size too small.

If he wasn’t so innocent looking, you’d accuse him of doing on purpose.

Wanda’s voice brings you back to reality. “So Valerie. What kind of movies do you like?”

Tags: @cherryblossomskye @hollarious

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #marvel

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double--plus--good · 4 years

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I Still Love You - A Zutara Fic 2020

Hey y’all

So I’m in my feelings about Zutara and decided to write out a fic I had in mind dealing with post-Ozai defeat and Zuko going out to look for his mom with Katara. I think it’ll be a few chapters if anyone’s interested but I’ve been playing around with this idea for a lil while now and being reconnected with my love for ATLA really pushed me to write it out.

I’d like to make a disclaimer: I love KatAang, really, I think their relationship made the most sense to end with and I appreciate their character development and how it developed their relationship! But I have such a soft spot for ZuTara and they’re honestly my favorite. I’m trying hard not to make this a ship war kind of fic and more of a different development, if that makes sense.

Anyway, here it is under the cut! I really hope you guys enjoy what I’m making

“Thank you Katara.” he said weakly as the water began to slowly dissipate from his wounds.

Zuko slowly sat up but was stopped, gently yet abruptly, by two cold hands pressing themselves against his chest.

“Please Zuko, I need you to lay down and rest. Your wound is healing but it’s still going to be another day before you can get up.”

Zuko took a hold of one of Katara’s hands and pressed it to his mouth before nodding and sliding down against the pillows beneath him. He peered up at her with half lidded eyes and managed a soft smile.

Katara reached up and pushed Zuko’s dark hair out of his face and peered back, mirroring the soft smile and allowed herself to be taken by the peace and quiet surrounding them.

For the first time in what must have been forever, there was serenity and calmness around them. Both benders took a deep breath, soaking in as much as they could before Katara pulled her hand away, slowly but all too soon.

Zuko sighed softly and looked to the wall beside him. Katara faced the opposite direction and leaned some of her weight against Zuko’s side, being careful not to disturb his wound too much. Zuko winced for a moment and the pain subsided quickly. They sat in silence for a while.

“I know we can’t be together” Zuko spoke up after what felt like an eternity which actually only amounted to two and a half minutes. “And I know you love Aang more than the world itself. You two suit one another and I’m happy you’ve been able to work through the confusion and hurt that the world has thrown to you. I don’t want you to feel as if you’re abandoning me. I know you’re worried, but, Katara, you and I have gone through a world of pain and suffering; we battled our way through the lowest points and I’ll never be able to repay you for all you sacrificed and gone through because of and for me. I’ll always have a special place for you as I know you’ll have me. You’re making the right choice and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He turned his head to face her but she didn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she brought her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly. Zuko continued.

“You and Aang have been side by side since the very beginning, you and I both know this all too well. I see how you look at him and worry for him and I understand, I do.”

Katara let go of her knees and slowly turned to face Zuko, a small smile on her face as she reached back to brush his hair back again. Zuko took a hold of her hand and held it to his face while his other hand rubbed her other arm.

“I love you Zuko, I do. After everything we’ve done and gone through, I’m glad we could have the time we did. But you’re right. Aang is everything I need and want. You helped me realize this. Thank you for helping me understand and thank you for understanding. I’ll always love you, Zuko. And you’ll always be part of Team Avatar. You’ve truly shown your worth and I know that you’re going to help bring peace back to not just the Fire Nation, but every nation.”

Zuko propped himself on one arm and pulled Katara down for a long, much needed kiss. She was surprised at first and moved a hand quickly to his wound to make sure it was okay. Slowly, however, she melted into his arms and savored their final kiss which ended too soon as well.

When they parted, Zuko forced himself fully upright and began to stretch his arms, grimacing as he felt the skin tighten at his wound. Katara sighed in irritation.

“If you’re going to disregard my instructions, at least do so when I leave. It’s frustrating to see you slow your healing.”

Zuko continued his stretching, bending an arm behind his head and placing a hand on his elbow to assist. “I’m alright Katara, really. It doesn’t hurt as much as yesterday. Besides, if I wait until you leave, I won’t be able to move until morning.”

He smiles at her cheekly as a blush forms over Katara’s cheeks.

“One last night together? Please? We can sleep separately, but I’d like to savor just a few more hours of peace.”

Katara rubbed her arm a little, hesitating to answer at first but then nodded and agreed to stay the night.

“But we won’t sleep separately.” she said softly, pushing the blanket off of Zuko’s lap so she could slide in beside him. “I want to make sure you won’t try anything dumb at night that will open or expose your wound anymore.”

She gently pushed him back down and pulled the blanket over him then laid down against his shoulder. She placed a soft kiss onto it and hugged his arm. Zuko leaned against her kiss and touch and closed his eyes, allowing himself to fade into her touch. He sighed softly and drifted away into a calmness in his mind.

She said one last thing to him before also allowing herself to follow him in the calm.

“When you wake up, I won’t be here to greet you. I hope you understand.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he brushed her hand softly and laid in the quiet again.

Six years have passed.

They weren’t the quickest years but they weren’t the slowest. Some days seemed to drag on as they tried to regain the trust of the separated and damaged nations. No one blamed anyone who was frightened and skeptical, but the team managed to reach several agreements to help move progression along.

The team made sure to keep in as much frequent contact as possible especially when regarding peace treaties and celebrations but of course, they had a lot to take on even as a team. They each helped to rebuild and restore many of each of the nation’s ancient ruins and destroyed cities and brought villages and cities together to create joining forces along the way. But as time passed, they saw less of one another so they could focus on leading and helping their nations and allies and mostly relied on postage from one another.

During this time, Zuko made sure to keep his father and sister far away in safe containment and abandoned his mission to find his mother when his father provided him with misinformation that nearly got him and his teammates killed. He hadn’t lost hope in finding her but of course, there were several pressing matters he had to attend to as Fire Lord to his nation and a friend of the Avatar.

Things began to calm, however, in the sixth year and after a long, boring day of sitting in on plans of restoring some old ruins and planning new trade routes between the nations, Zuko made his way to his sister’s containment with a book from their childhood and some cooled tea. He requested his guards stay outside, as usual, and he sat in front of a glass wall that separated her space from the visitor space [compliments to Toph and himself for discovering what happens when you burn sand just right after a rather difficult encounter along a shore].

Azula sat slumped against the wall, staring angrily at the ground. She didn’t speak and hadn’t spoken since the night her father had been defeated. She also rarely moved despite the freedom she had to do so [with proper supervision, of course].

No one really knew why the Fire Lord did this and no one felt as if Azula understood or appreciated that her brother would continue to visit her and read to her; yet, they felt no need to stop him from doing so and kept their opinions to themselves in hushed voices.

“I’m here, Azula.” he began as he slid the tea through a small opening made for her meals. “I brought you another story book. It’s the Tales of the Turtle Duck and the Kola Otter.”

Azula perked up just a bit at the mention of the book and she pushed herself up a little bit so she could see the book better. She said nothing and maintained intense eye contact with Zuko’s hands and the book.

Zuko sighed and began reading the first fable of the book to her.

Once he reached the fable’s conclusion, Zuko carefully placed the book in a pocket hiding in his coat and stood slowly, observing his sister and her surroundings carefully. Even after six years of visiting and constant renovations to the cooled chambers that surrounded them, he was always on guard around her and ready for any attack. When he was fully upright, Azula stood up and began to slowly step towards the glass, an eerie smile creeping onto her face once she was at the wall. She pressed her hands against the glass and began to laugh softly under her breath before bursting into a fit of righteous laughter.

Zuko jumped back at the sound and watched in shock while his sister began to claw at the wall between them, laughing and screaming in hestarics. The guards rushed in at the sound and called for someone to sedate her while they rushed the Fire Lord out and escorted him to the palace.

Zuko’s heart was pounding fast during the whole escapade and he found it difficult to walk and breathe as he was forced out of the chamber. He hadn’t seen his sister move or heard her make any sound [other than the occasional grunt or sigh] in six years and he couldn’t imagine what had triggered that response. He also couldn’t figure out what caused him to just stand there, unable to move at first until a guard nearly dragged him out. He couldn’t look away either; the image of his sister smiling at him as one of the servants charged with caring for her grabbed her arms and forced her into a drowsy state.

Once he reached the palace, Zuko was taken immediately to be checked on by the palace medical staff, despite his protests and was made to stay in the medical chamber for the night to monitor his shock response.

It was another sleepless night for Zuko which he had become accustomed to throughout the years but this time it was different.

Most nights he would busy himself with work or reading or even walk through the villages but the night he spent in the medical chamber left him staring at the ceiling the entire time with no shift in his gaze.

When the palace medical staff came in, they were shocked to see the Fire Lord in the same position as they left him, his face unmoved and they hesitated to approach him. The head staff member made their way to Zuko but jumped back when he suddenly sat up and began to put his robe back on.

“Your majesty, won’t you let us help you?” She asked, moving towards him again until she reached his bed.

Zuko looked up at her with a gentle but indifferent face and shook his head. “I’m fine, really. Thank you for your care.” He then stood up and began to tie his sash.

“I just needed to read my head. I’m ready to take on the day.”

The staff looked at one another and nodded before bowing and stepping outside. Zuko began to make his way to his personal chambers with his guards at the lead but was stopped halfway down the hall by a familiar chirping sound.

He turned slowly to look behind him and was greeted by a furry belly smashing into his face, knocking him to the ground. The animal’s tail swished around Zuko’s neck as it began to crawl around the Fire Lord’s shoulders and chest and his guards ran to his side.

Zuko let out an uncharacteristic belly laugh and pulled the lemur off of his chest, holding him above his head. His guards stared at one another in surprise before watching their Fire Lord jump to his feet.

“Momo, good to see you too.” Zuko said with a smile, placing Momo onto his shoulder. “Am I to assume the Avatar will be joining us too?”

Momo rubbed his own face vigorously and Zuko’s attention was caught by another familiar noise. Or rather, a voice.

“Well, you’re almost right,” Aang said as he rushed down the hall with a small fleet behind him. “The Avatar and his team will be joining”

Zuko opened his arms and braced for the crash of bodies that ensued as Aang, Sokka, Toph, Suki, and Katara threw themselves onto him. They crashed at the feet of the guards, who all sat puzzled yet delighted at the sight of the nation's saviors laughing and tossing around trying to stand back up.

Team Avatar, reunited physically after some time.

“This is such a surprise. I can’t believe you’re all here” Zuko said with a smile saved only for his dearest friends. He looked around at all of them but kept a very special and lingering stare at Katara as she stretched her back and arms, laughing.

“Well, of course we’re here,” Aang remarked, holding his arm out for Momo to perch himself on. “It is the Fire Lord’s birthday celebration this weekend, isn’t it?”

Zuko looked away from Katara and looked up at the ceiling with a puzzled stare. “Oh, is it? I honestly forgot”

The team shared a small laugh and Zuko looked back at his teammates, joining in.

“That’s just sad, Zuko” Toph teased, folding her arms over her chest as a smug smile formed over her face “Are you getting so old that you’re already forgetting?”

The team laughed again and Zuko stepped passed them, urging them to follow him. “I guess I am. Let’s go to the dinning hall. I’m sure you’re all tired from traveling.”

They all followed, making small conversation with one another as they made their way through various halls and stairs.

A variety of tarts, fruits, breads, meats, and teas were laid out for the visitors as they sat on the floor at a round table, catching up with one another about their journeys. Zuko remained silent, listening contently to the laughter and clinking of glasses and looking over his friends fondly.

His attention was then caught by a gentle hand on his shoulder that caused some tension in his muscles. He turned his head slowly and slightly and made eye contact with Katara, who gave him a small but worried smile.

“You okay?” she asked, retracting her hand when she felt Zuko become tense.

Zuko sighed softly and nodded. “Yea, I’m just surprised. I know we all talk and see each other when we can but it’s so rare to see everyone together like this. And, it’s weird that it’s for me. Ever since Mai and Ty Lee left, I’ve been really alone.” He rested his hands against the floor behind him and began to look around the room again with a warm smile. “ Now, hearing so many people and seeing the laughter and warmth, it’s kind of jarring. I’m happy and sad all at once.”

Katara frowned a little and looked around the room before turning back to Zuko. “I didn’t know Mai left. I’m sorry to hear that.” She hesitated for a moment then placed her hand on his shoulder.

Zuko leaned into the touch this time and looked over to Katara, frowning when he saw her expression.

“I guess it just didn’t come up. I’m not upset by it at all. She had a lot of things she came to terms with and I was glad she found herself. Ty Lee came back from Kiyoshi island and they worked out some feelings they had for each other. It was kind of sweet.” He turned his attention to Sokka, who was poorly imitating the events of Boiling Rock, and chuckled softly shaking his head. “Everyone comes and goes and I’ve learned to hold onto their memory and move on. I’m lucky that I have a lot of work to keep me busy and honestly, a life of solitary is more my style. I focus my energy on helping my country heal from the scars left by my forefathers.”

A loud crashing of plates and cups caused heads to jerk at Momo and Aang, who were now covered in pastry curd and custards, laughing. Zuko sighs with a tired smile and motions for a servant to bring the Avatar a cloth to wipe himself with.

Katara let out a small laugh and moved her hand away from Zuko’s shoulder to his hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “Well, I’m glad you took it so well and I’m glad it all worked out. But Zuko, you should really try to be more social. Of everyone, you’re the one we all talk to the least and it’s been concerning us. It’s one of the reasons we came this weekend aside from Mai’s invitation.”

Zuko’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of Mai and her invitation and he turned his attention back to Katara. “Mai sent the invitation? Are you sure?”

Katara stared back at Zuko, a bit shocked by his reaction. “Uh, yea. She always sends the celebration invitations. That’s why I was so shocked to hear you say she left. But I figured maybe you guys stayed in contact or something.”

Zuko looked down at the ground and thought for a moment before sighing deeply and looking back at Katara. “Maybe she was worried too,” he concluded. “It’s been awhile since she’s planned any of the celebrations, usually I have a staff for that.” His eyes softened and a sad smile found its way to his mouth. “I’ll have to thank her, I guess.”

The team decided to wind down after dinner at the springs just behind the palace. Their boisterous laughter and stories were now soft chats and whispers as to not break the ambience of the springs.

“So, what’s the celebration plan, your majesty?” Aang asked teasingly, floating over to Zuko’s side. “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of food and shows.”

Zuko kept his eyes closed and his head back as he spoke to Aang. “Honestly, I don’t know how they plan the celebrations and this year, with you guys invited, it may change but they’re usually the same each year.” He reached over to his tea cup which sat close to the edge of the spring and took a sip of his tea before resuming.

“The village lines up to greet me in the morning, people from other nations come with lavish gifts, music is played all day, people dance and play games throughout the day, and we end it with fireworks and a big feast. But if I’m being honest, I haven’t had a birthday celebration in the last few years. The town still holds the festivities but as far as the feasts and gifts, I haven’t really taken a part of them.” Zuko then opened his eyes but kept his face directed to the sky. “I’m not ungrateful to them, but these celebrations are kind of overdone. I let them plan it mostly for the village and servants since they really enjoy it.” He shut his eyes again.

Aang leaned his back against the wall of the spring and looked up at the sky. “I get it. The parties seem like a lot, don’t they?”

Zuko nodded. “Yea. Whenever the anniversary of the day we defeated my father, I get tense. Those are really big here and I can’t escape them. The first year was fine especially since we celebrated it together, but after? Ugh.”

Aang let out a small laugh and they turned to face each other.

“Maybe we can get you out of the palace this year for your birthday.” he suggested, a big grin on his face.

Zuko shook his head and chuckled. “No. Clearly they planned something bigger this year since Mai invited you guys. I wouldn’t want to ruin anything for anyone.”

“Well, I don’t see why you’re being so gloomy about it. I mean, I’d kill for any recognition honestly” Sokka chimed loudly “Most people don’t even recognize me and when they do, they always tell me to congratulate you guys and Katara. I mean, come on! I was the mastermind!”

Everyone let out a hearty laugh at Sokka’s commotion and Suki made sure to give him a big kiss on the cheek as congratulations from the nations.

After some time relaxing in company, Zuko stood up and slid into his robe.

“I think I’ll retire now” he said as he began to take a step out. “I’ll have the guards escort you to the guest chambers.” He turned to face Aang and held out a hand to help him out. “I usually mediate in the sand gardens in the morning if you’d like to join me before dawn.”

Aang took Zuko’s hand and pulled him back into the water with a hearty laugh. “Sure thing, pal.”

Everyone roared with laughter and quickly hopped out of the spring as it became boiling from Zuko’s irritation. Aang jumped at the heat and floated upward, still laughing at Zuko.

Zuko groaned and began to stand up, removing his robe. As he strained it, he caught a glimpse at Katara, who was watching him giggling and blushing slightly. He felt his cheeks turn red and quickly focused on straining his robe.

His heart skipped a beat.

#Zutara #zuko #katara #avatar: the last airbender #atla #fan fic #zutara fan fic #romance #aang #sokka #suki #toph #azula #mai #ty lee #ozai

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thecandywrites · 4 years

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Of Heaven and Fire Part 14

So, I have been so writer’s blocked for this part. I restarted it several times trying to get it right because the part after this flowed like water and you can blame Lover’s Death and Without You by Ursine Vulpine and Annaca, Surrender by Natalie Taylor, Sober by Bad Wolves and especially Pictures by Judah and the Lion featuring Kacey Musgraves for the next few chapters.

Tagging the crew- @probablyclever @imherefortheforthefanart and @funmadnessandbadassvikings

Of Heaven and Fire

Part 14

Like Matae predicted, within two weeks, all your suitors bowed out. It was almost comical to see how they would literally wake up one morning and realize- that you were not the woman for them. They were all gracious with their withdrawals and gave many gifts of goodwill.

You were relieved when Suriel was the first to do so, promptly going after your sister Yaviane who was a little weary at first but once the two got to know each other, realized they were fated and were soon inseparable. And Suriel assured you that if the council were to go after Brock, how he would help you expose them.

Your elder sister Misia seemed to catch Oriles eyes, while Railtor realized your other elder sister Shakaia was a better fit for him before Cordene was drawn to your other older sister Audrilora who was closer in age to him than you were.

However at the end of the two weeks, you were still just a little bit anxious to see if the same phenomenon would happen to Brock all while the nightmares intensified, as you were able to see more and more, like a crumbled cloth being smoothed out. However, much to your relief, he did not. Instead he acted towards you the same as before, if not more reassuring that his love for you would never fade. Cordene and Suriel made the cloud cities for the orcs permanent structures and Onvam happily took Vraum to the sister colony who were happy to have him and the fish from his own boats up his own river to them.

Two months passed and the nightmares grew infrequent and things fell into their new ways easily. Cugas and Kaive were themselves inseparable and Kaive was all too happy to take to the sea with Cugas and fell into the life of a fisherman easily and it was a prosperous time for everyone as you grew to accept that the council never was going to give back Brock’s cloak and with Brock’s insistence, you let it go.

All your former suitors built a home for you in a cloud, each adding their own touches as a blessing for you. Which you happily accepted and it was soon filled with all kinds of treasures from all the realms and you even made a spot for it to settle in Stormbreaker after the solstice celebration but for now, it was attached to Drauch.

Usually a week or two before the solstice every woman in the colony seemed to have their period, except for you and your sisters who had started to court their own suitors. Because they themselves didn’t have their moon blood, you thought nothing of it that you did not get yours because you were so focused on making sure your life in Stormbreaker would be as smooth and comfortable as possible besides you were busy teaching Brock the dances since you would be spending your solstice dancing with him and only him. The only problem was that Brock- didn’t have a lick of rhythm. No matter how hard you tried working with him, he would always do it just half a beat off because he was always trying to watch you and mimic you but was just a touch slow about it. But honestly, it didn’t bother you too much because you loved him anyway.

The day of the solstice, you were so happy, you were with Brock, dancing in the engaged circle where you didn’t switch partners and you still had fun dancing until your feet were sore and when the solstice was done, you spent a whole day resting in your new home wrapped up in his embrace before spending another day just having all the sex you wanted because you were practically married by all standards.

But the happiness was not to last. The moment you two left the house to get something to eat, Brock was arrested and thrown in prison and the moment he left you, the nightmares came back with a vengence and with an intensity that made you never want to sleep again, no matter how badly your body needed it.

It seemed Matae had been right, that the council would not let you be with Brock. In retaliation, you demanded that they drop the charges and let you and Brock leave in peace or else you would make good on your own threat. They didn’t think you had the capabilities. But when they denied it, you very publicly made your own accusations to the entire council and with Suriel backing you up and showing the whole colony that what you were accusing them of was true. It didn’t matter what lies they tried to spin, you had them dead to rights and the whole colony revolted against the council because the colony felt just as betrayed as you had been just as this part of the nightmarish prophecy became clear in your mind.

For another month, there was one huge trial. Every counselor was found guilty of multiple crimes, Matae even came and proved that he had been tasked with stealing all of these orc’s baby’s cloaks on order from the council and how the council had purposefully asked your brother and your brother in law to get the last one because they knew that you would not kill them on sight. It was revealed that not only was Suchi guilty of this, but others, and when the truth was exposed, the colonies themselves felt broken and the guilty councillors were all cast out of the colonies and suddenly all dropped off the face of the planet and could not be found anywhere.

However through all of this Brock remained imprisoned and the judges judging his case was filled and refilled over a dozen times. But once an honest and upright judge was found from a colony half a world away, you felt like you had a chance at justice for Brock since you were not the one accusing him and his accusers were impossible to find and you hoped that his case would be thrown out. Even though your prophetic dreams showed otherwise.

But sadly, in Brock’s trial, he and his shaman were still found guilty of the crime of enslaving a moura which was proven even by your own account and theirs because of the physical shackle and rope and both were sentenced to death by hanging and you were put under a special spell to keep you from changing into any form than your human one and if you intervened, you too would be arrested and tried as a criminal yourself for interfering and obstructing of justice.

So here you were, changing into sackcloth to show your grief before Matae reappeared in the room, looking guilty.

“What are you doing here?” You asked as you tried to tie a belt around your itchy garment but you were too numb to notice.

“To offer my apology.” Matae said. “Your life is going to be very hard from here, raising a little one all on your own.” Matae finally said which made you look up at him.

“What?” You asked. “What little one?” You asked.

“The little boy in your womb, it’s Brock’s, four months strong already.” Matae answered as you looked at him in confusion. It was true in the last month or so, you seemed to have become a voracious eater and had put on a fair bit of weight because of the stress of Brock’s trial.

“I’m not...I’m not…” You tried to argue before Matae pulled his own version of lira light and touched your chest before you looked down to see the lights over your womb that were the most beautiful mix of your moura light marks and Brock’s. One way moura’s showed pregancy is a moura baby would have their own moura light marks around them that would show around the womb and you felt your legs give out and Matae managed to catch you and help you sit down on the floor before you broke down into sobs as you clutched at your middle while Matae did his best to comfort you.

“What if..” You tried to ask but Matae just shook his head no. “No, they won’t change it.” Matae finished for you.

“What do I do?” You asked.

“Tell Brock and take care of yourself.” Matae advised.

After you managed to regain composure you gathered the food you had prepared for Brock, his last meal as Kaive and Cugas helped you carry it and walked with you to the prison to spend the night on the other side of the bars since you were not allowed in the cell with him and you came to see his family on the other side of the bars. In all of this, they never once blamed you for any of this and they were so happy to see you stand up to your entire colony to defend them and especially Brock and you fought for what was right and for justice and you had given it your all, and it still...was just not enough. And they all understood that Brock was sacrificing himself in order to ensure Stormbreaker’s success and glory, sometimes it had to be written in blood before it could be written in gold.

And Brock- he was surprisingly accepting of all of it. As if he had known all along that this is how it was going to be and he was at peace with it. That to you was what made you furious at first, that he didn’t fight against any of it. He never once fought against those who arrested him or the jailors or the judges or the jury or anything. He was unashamedly honest about everything and freely admitted his guilt and accepted his punishment without fuss or arguing. Like he was a sacrificial lamb being led to slaughter if it meant the rest of his “flock” wouldn’t be, as if securing a greener pasture free from predators that offered all kinds of shelters was the ultimate goal. His only regret was that you would be so hurt by his death and he urged his family to comfort you and care for you in his absence.

“There’s the love of my life.” Brock tried to coo at you as he gave you the most loving adoring smile as he reached for you through the bars as you went to him and grasped his hands as you simply returned his adoring look the best you could before you broke down and wept again as he did his best to hold and console you through the bars as the food you prepared was added to the other food the rest of his family made as he sat down as close to the bars as he could be as you sat next to him as it was the last full family meal.

It was so surreal, that if the bars had not been there, everyone acted as if they were back at home, talking like they usually did and sharing the meal like they were used to, still telling stories and legends as each person tried to come up with ways of telling this story to the future generations and were able to put such a grand and proud spin on such sad circumstances until it came around to you.

“When this story gets told, it should be told like this...” you began, your throat tightening as you forced a brave smile through your tears as you squeezed Brock’s hand extra tight.

“Since the dawn of time, firebirds would come and breathe fire on the lands, the fires consuming everything it touched, pushing the clans to the seas. And even there, the firebirds dove to eat the fish right from the nets. The clans could only look and see the golden nests the firebirds built in the tall mountains, glittering like a jewel, forever out of reach. But there was a wise warchief who decided to catch the firebirds. Now to catch one he had to be quick, cunning and strong, for firebirds are never caught in traps, not of wood or of iron, but the wise warchief used silver which worked it’s charm. With his silver trap he climbed the mountains, and krept through the scorched earth. He caught a young fledgling by surprise in his silver trap and brought it home. To the firebird he revealed the devastation the fires brought and how so few fish were caught because the firebirds took even them. And in turn the firebird revealed herself and the secrets of the firebirds and how to make golden nests that fire can not burn or destroy. And with these secrets the warchief built his clan with fireproof gold so that nothing would ever destroy it. The warchief used kindness with the firebird instead of revenge and it brought the clan a blessing hundred fold. When he let the firebird go, she stayed. She chased off the others so that the ground could heal and bear its fruit and grains. She invited the sea to give up it’s treasures until there was no more want. She blessed the warchief and he blessed her.” You emphasized as you brought Kihro’s hand over to rest on your lower belly as your voice cracked with the flood of emotions and the meaning behind your words were not lost on anyone and soon everyone cheered which made you laugh through your tears as you were practically swarmed with hugs and congratulations and questions on how you knew before you turned on your lira light to show them the baby and turned Brock’s on to show how it was a boy and it was his.

“Dad, her child is going to be my only heir and the next warchief.” Brock insisted as everyone agreed before everyone took turns to invent legends to tell the little one about their great father once they came into the world and you fell asleep, laying on a bed roll on the prison floor, with Brock laying behind you, his arms through the bars to wrap around you, his hand never leaving your belly. His words of love and encouragement filling your ears. Thankfully your last night with him was filled with blissful, restful sleep.

Come morning, you and Brock’s family were escorted out of the prison before you went out into the courtyard of justice where the gallows were as you sat down and prepared yourself for what was to come as the colony came out to witness it.

Your eyes were too flooded with tears to really see Brock clearly as he and his shaman were led out as you squeezed Rhosland’s hands so tight you feared they would break when all of a sudden a clear shield enveloped the crowd and dragons, being rode by Kaive and Matae flew down and breathed fire over Brock and the Shaman before the nuses could be hung around their necks, the moura’s tasked with executing them fleeing for their lives because the fires were so hot and intense that Brock and his shaman were instantly turned to ash along with the gallows and the ground was scorched.

It all happened so fast, within the span of a heartbeat and the dragons took to the air and went back to their caves immediately and you just sat in stunned silence before a Zirvush tree grew at your feet and delivered Brock’s gold moura collar but the moment you touched it, it turned to ash and you were left holding ash in your hands.

You were both saddened yet relived, because if Brock could be reborn in the ashes, he could return to you. This way- justice was served with mercy.

So you waited until the shield lowered when the temperatures of everything cooled and you still sat there and you waited. You waited to see if he would rise from the ashes.

And you waited, and waited, and waited. One by one and then family by family and group by group the colony left and returned to their normal lives. Even Brock’s clan left the site and returned to Drauch with their heaping piles of gold. Some food vendors even came and brought food for you to eat while you waited which you were thankful for, since you knew you had to take care of yourself in order to care for the little one in your womb.

You waited until the sun went down and you lit torches over the ashes to illuminate them so that if they stirred, you would see it. You stayed up all night and by dawn you had passed out, and when you woke up, Kaive had returned to you and kept vigil for you and when you woke with a start, Kaive was there to assure you that you didn’t miss anything. That nothing stirred in the ashes.

Then a storm came and you didn’t want the ashes to get swept away and scattered in the run off so you swept up every bit of ash and put it into huge jars before Brock’s family brought the jars of ash into your home and you left Suchi, flying your home back to Stormbreaker and settling it down in it’s spot that you and Brock had prepared for it. You then took the ashes and scattered them over the land around your home, offering every prayer to every god, even Zirvush, to return Brock to you and that hoping that the fact that his ashes were now at his home, he would rise now.

No sooner had you scattered them before a rainstorm came, big fat raindrops drenched the earth and you had to take shelter in the house and watch and wait until it grew dark.

Lightning struck outside your home and you went out to see the Shaman had risen from the ashes as a dragonborn orc, which to you felt appropriate since moura’s and dragons would always be allies and the clan was overjoyed that their spiritual leader had returned to them and it gave you hope that Brock would return too.

Come morning, the ground around your house was thick with all sorts of vegetation, spices and fruits and vegetables and all kinds of grains grew around the house and even grew out, from there, even a Zirvush tree had grown and on it’s branches were the bronzed collars of all the councilers who had sinned against the orcs and you knew that Matae had killed them in vengence for you over his own guilt. You would make a crown of the collars for Brock to wear once he returned.

The whole clan called out for Brock before they noticed a mighty golden eagle flying over the clan before it landed and transformed into Brock who was shaken and dazed and confused as to how he had been a bird before everyone swarmed him. So grateful he had come back as they all made way for you to go to him and hug him.

But instead of returning your hug, he froze.

“Uh, excuse you” Brock frowned in confusion as managed to pull you off of him and looked at you like he didn’t know you and didn’t like it that someone he didn’t know was hugging him.

“Brock, do you know who I am?” Rhoslan asked, wondering if he had some kind of amnesia.

“Of course I know who you are mom,” Brock frowned before he started naming everyone off that was around him.

“But I don’t know you.” Brock said as he continued to frown at you.

Fuck.

#Ugy laughter turning into ugly sobbing #look.#I'm not proud of this part #But the next part is even more heartbreaking I guarentee it.#it's gonna hurt so good #orcs #orc husband #orc love story #orc lover #Moura #Angel #Siren #Mermaid #Elves #Fae #Of Heaven and Fire Part 14 #Of Heaven and Fire

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