#because i must always include enemies to lovers somehow lol

[thenerdykneazle]

Yule Ball

images of Garreth above from @dvinaamesca here and here

Summary: Sometimes our favourite gregarious Gryffindor can be a bit thick. Professor Black reinstates the Yule Ball in your seventh year, and you realise last-minute that your boyfriend isn't planning on taking you. Leander tries to help his best mate patch things up with you. Sometimes simple misunderstandings lead to hurt feelings, but talking it out (and makeup sex) is always worth it.

Garreth Weasley x Gryffindor F!MC

A/N: Did I write an almost 9k fic because I loved a screenshot so much? Yes. Yes, I did. At any rate, this blog was far overdue for some Garreth love.

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, aged-up characters, Garreth being oblivious, failure to communicate, caught indisposed, talks of hypothetically pregnant MC

Word count: 8621

Seventh year was going surprisingly well for you. The stress of exams was nothing compared to quashing a goblin rebellion, and poaching was at an all-time low in the Highlands. If you were honest, it was a bit dull. You had tried, back at the end of sixth year, to get Black to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament. You argued that it was the perfect time, exactly a century after the last one had been held. He had refused outright, arguing that it was “too dangerous.” You suspected his concern was less directed at whatever students would be competing and more due to the fact that the heads of the participating schools had been injured during the last one in 1792. Bloody coward.

You had started a whole campaign, hoping to pressure him into it, but he wouldn’t relent. Poppy managed to convince him to at least host a Yule Ball the following Christmas. The vain headmaster leapt at the chance to bring out his dress robes. It was settled.

At least you had quidditch to keep you from being bored to death. Games and practices playing chaser alongside your boyfriend were the highlight of each week. You had worried it might cause friction between the two of you when you and Garreth joined the team last year. Quite the contrary, you both worked together flawlessly. You practised so much that you had an almost telepathic connection on the pitch. You had been so close to winning the Quidditch Cup last year, and you had high hopes for this season.

Still, quidditch only provided so much of a distraction given the level of adventure to which you were accustomed, and you had looked forward to the Yule Ball all of autumn term. Poppy – and, to your surprise, Imelda – led the planning effort. You were confident it was going to be spectacular. You had already gone shopping with Natty, and Mr. Hill insisted on making custom gowns for both of you. He had always been appreciative of you two saving his shop from the troll back in fifth year.

As you were studying in the library for end-of-term exams, Poppy updated you on the planning. The ball was to be an all-night, Regency-style affair complete with dancing, a late supper, and more dancing. You couldn’t wait for Christmas to arrive.

Over lunch, Garreth expressed a similar sentiment. “I cannot wait for exams to be over. I swear my aunt is lurking around every corner to make sure I’m revising properly,” he groused. “It’s like she has no faith in me.”

“She just wants you to do well,” you assured him, rubbing a soothing hand between his shoulder blades.

“At least we have the holidays to look forward to,” he said. “Your parents are letting you stay here in the castle, right?”

“Yes!” you replied eagerly. “It’s going to be splendid, isn’t it? Have you gotten dress robes?”

Garreth’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What for?”

You gaped at him. “For the Yule Ball.”

He looked caught off guard. “I wasn’t planning on attending,” he admitted.

“What? You–You’re not going?” you asked, taken aback. “Are you serious?”

Your conversation caught Leander’s attention, and he looked nervously between you two. His eyes widened with intent as he stared at Garreth.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” Garreth explained. “What’s the point?”

Leander hid his face in his hand, clearly embarrassed at his best mate’s lack of tact.

The bench scraped harshly on the stone floor as you got to your feet. “What’s the point?” you repeated, furious.

Garreth shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like I’m telling you that you can’t go,” he said.

“Garreth Weasley, you inconsiderate – you oblivious – you – Ugh!” you spluttered. You grabbed your bag off the ground before storming off, leaving Garreth sat stunned on the bench.

“What is her problem?” he asked Leander.

“Mate…” the tall redhead said in a pitying tone. He just shook his head at the boy.

You spent the rest of exams avoiding Garreth. Fortunately, there were no quidditch practices to force you to interact with him. You studied in the Undercroft instead of the library. When you weren’t studying, you holed up in your dorm room where he couldn’t reach you. He tried to get Natty or Cressida to convince you to talk to him, but you were still too mad. You had spent months looking forward to the Yule Ball. You’d gushed to him about your excitement for the event dozens of times. It had never crossed your mind that your boyfriend wouldn’t escort you.

He managed to corner you once, on your way out of the potions exam. You suspected he had finished well before you and lingered for the express purpose of trying to talk to you. He chased you out, pulling you into an alcove in the corridor. “MC, I’m sorry,” he said, looking devestated. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You scowled, but you were listening.

“I just…I didn’t realise you cared so much about a silly little ball,” he continued, inserting his foot directly into his mouth.

You scoffed, shoving past him and starting down the corridor.

“Wait, that came out wrong,” Garreth said, rushing after you.

“Did it, now?” you replied, unconvinced.

You stopped abruptly, spinning back to face him as you crossed your arms over your chest. Garreth almost walked straight into you, but he caught himself just in time.

You arched an accusing brow at him. “Was this supposed apology going to involve you asking me to said ‘silly little ball’?”

“I…Well…” he stammered, his nervous eyes looking anywhere but at you.

You huffed as you whipped back around. Garreth called after you as you stormed away, but you didn’t stop that time.

Your anger continued to simmer through the end of exams on the 23rd. Normally, the Hogwarts Express would’ve been packed that evening as students headed home for the Christmas holidays. However, it was nearly empty that night. It seemed everyone else was as excited for the ball as you were – everyone except your boyfriend, that is.

You spent hours practising spells in the Undercroft that evening. Ominis found you down there. The smell of smouldering crates filled his nose immediately.

“Still upset with Garreth, I take it?” Ominis asked as he strode into the room.

“Yep,” you replied curtly.

“Are you going to stop talking to him forever over a dance?” he asked seriously, folding his arms as he leaned back against a blank stretch of stone wall.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not the dance. It’s that he knew how excited I was for it and still had no plans to attend it with me. It’s like he doesn’t care about what’s important to me.”

Ominis cocked his head to the side as he considered your words. “Have you explained that to him?”

Your jaw tensed. “I shouldn’t have to.”

Ominis pursed his lips, shaking his head slightly. “That’s a healthy way to handle it,” he said sarcastically.

“I don’t want to hear it, Mr. My Relationship is Soooo Perfect,” you groused. “You and Poppy both love dancing. It’s not fair.”

You crossed your arms in a huff.

Ominis smirked at the mention of his girlfriend. “Well, we are fortunate in that,” he said. “I’ll save a dance for you, tough, shall I?”

“That’d be lovely. It’ll be the only one I get,” you replied – admittedly, being a bit melodramatic.

Ominis snorted. “Right. Because people can only dance at a ball if they already have a partner.”

“Will you just let me sulk?” you snapped.

Ominis rolled his eyes. “You’ve been sulking all week, MC,” he pointed out. “I won’t let you ruin the ball for yourself.”

You sighed. He had a point. Just because Garreth was being an arse didn’t mean you shouldn’t try to enjoy the event you’d been looking forward to since the end of spring term.

The door to the seventh-year boys’ dormitory shut with a soft click. Leander stared at his best mate, lying face-down in bed on top of his sheets.

“I take it the grovelling didn’t go well?” he asked as he crossed the room to sit on the edge of his own bed.

Garreth mumbled incoherently into his pillow.

“Come again?” Leander said.

Garreth turned his head to the side, still lying boneless otherwise. “There was no grovelling,” he said. “She still won’t speak to me. Or listen. Or do anything but bolt the other direction when I spot her in the halls.”

Leander hummed sympathetically. “Did you try having Natty pass along your apology?”

“She refused,” Garreth said dismally. “Said I should apologise to her myself, even though that’s literally impossible seeing as MC won’t be in the same wing of the castle as me for more than five seconds. I don’t know what to do, Lee.”

Leander clicked his tongue. “That is a tough spot,” he said. “I suppose you do know one place you can definitely find her.”

“She hasn’t used the Room of Requirement all week. I checked with Deek,” Garreth argued.

“I was talking about the Yule Ball,” Leander said, rolling his eyes at his hopelessly thick friend.

Garreth pushed himself up on his arms so he could turn to look at Leander. “And how is embarrassing myself at a ball going to help anything?” he demanded.

Leander let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s really not that complicated, mate. She’s mad at you because you wouldn’t take her to the ball. So, go there and dance with her. After the grovelling. That bit’s still essential, trust me.”

“But I can’t dance,” Garreth argued.

Leander shrugged. “I’ll teach you.”

Garreth chewed his lip as he considered the option. “Okay…But what if she bolts the second she sees me? Or, worse, takes someone else to the dance?”

Leander pursed his lips. He had to admit that they were both quite plausible outcomes. “I’ll handle it.”

“How?” Garreth inquired.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You just focus on using the next 48 hours to make sure you won’t crush her toes when you finally dance with her.”

Garreth, still looking anxious, just nodded.

“Brilliant! Now, on your feet. I’m going to teach you to waltz,” Leander said.

Saturday morning, Leander caught you leaving your dorm for breakfast. “MC! Just the girl I wanted to see!” he said brightly as you descended the stairs into the Gryffindor common room.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever Garreth wants to tell me, I don’t want to hear it,” you groused, brushing past him.

“Actually,” Leander said as he caught your hand to make you stop, “I wanted to ask a favour.”

Your brow furrowed. You crossed your arms sceptically, but you made no move to dart away. “A favour?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

Leander gulped down his nerves as he nodded his head. “Well, I was…I was wondering if you’d go to the Yule Ball with me.”

You blinked rapidly as you processed his words. “Oh,” you said in surprise. “I would’ve thought you’d be going with Sebastian. You two have been dancing around each other for ages, after all.”

Leander sucked his teeth. “Yes, well, Violet beat me to asking him, evidently,” he explained with a rather sour expression. “So, I thought we might go together, since Garreth’s being a numpty. As friends, of course, but…also to make our boys a bit jealous, maybe.”

“You want to help me make Garreth jealous?” you asked in disbelief.

“Well, Garreth and Sebastian,” he replied. “Besides, I think he deserves it. He was a bit of a knob about the ball.”

You tilted your head, eyeing him for a long moment that had him starting to squirm. “Yeah, all right,” you agreed.

Leander beamed at you. “Brilliant! I’ll pick you up at 8 tomorrow night,” he said.

“See you then,” you replied.

Your Christmas morning was spent in the Gryffindor common room after Natty assured you that Garreth wasn’t down there. Almost the entire rest of your house was, though. There was a weight in your chest at not getting to celebrate with the man you loved – even if he was being a git. You also felt sorry for him that he was missing out on the festivities.

You didn’t see him the rest of the day, either. That night, you and Natty spent hours getting ready in your room. The mirror had nothing but compliments for the pair of you, and you were feeling quite good about yourself despite the recent tiff with Garreth. As such, you lingered in the common room early, hoping he’d catch a glimpse of you all dolled up. There might’ve been a part of you that wanted him to regret not spending that night with you.

He wasn’t there, though, and you began to wonder if he’d gone home for the rest of the holiday.

Your worrying was cut short when Leander emerged into the room. He smiled when he saw you. “You look beautiful, MC,” he said sweetly.

“Thank you. You look quite dashing yourself,” you replied.

He straightened the lapel of his dress robes proudly. They were black with deep green paisley accents.

“We’re quite a festive pair,” you said, looking down at your ruby red gown.

He laughed. “Yes, well, I had been planning on taking a Slytherin,” he said lightly.

“True,” you replied.

Leander held his arm out to you. “Shall we?”

You nodded and took hold of it, winding your own arm delicately around his.

The Great Hall had been totally transformed. It was almost unrecognisable. Instead of the usual floating candles, bright orbs of light hung in the air like shining stars. The edges of the room were lined with pine trees, full of twinkling lights and glittering ornaments. Each tree was decorated for one of the four houses. The dais was almost entirely taken over by a massive tree decorated in glass ornaments of all four houses’ mascots, crests, and other staples – like a glass rendition of the portrait of the fat lady and the mermaids from the fountain in the Slytherin common room.

The ceiling was enchanted to have snow falling softly, though it vanished before reaching any of you. It was truly magnificent. Your only regret was that Garreth wasn’t there to experience it with you. Before you could properly mope on the subject, Leander whisked you onto the dance floor. It was almost impossible to stay wistful when you were sweeping around the Great Hall in a two step to lively music. Leander led gracefully, his hold on you firm and his movements fluid and sure. You glided through the other couples, almost constantly spinning. It was a wonder you weren’t dizzy.

“You seem to have something on your mind,” Leander observed.

“I can’t help but wish Garreth were here,” you admitted.

“I see,” he replied.

“Sorry,” you said sincerely. “I don’t mean to insult you. You’re a wonderful dance partner.”

“Just not the one you planned on having,” he said knowingly.

You gave him an apologetic smile.

“I can hardly fault you for that,” he said.

As the song faded to its end, he released your back to spin you around once more, turning you rather quickly before suddenly releasing your hand, as well. You stumbled to get your footing until two strong hands steadied you at your hips, holding you still.

Your head spun a bit from the sudden stop, lashes fluttering as you looked up to find your boyfriend was the one who had caught you.

“Garreth,” you breathed, momentarily forgetting to be angry. You were too surprised. Too relieved. Too caught up in the sight of him with his softly styled curls and perfectly tailored dress robes. He wore a crisp black shirt under a white satin waistcoat and matching bowtie. A deep red robe topped the look. His satin lapels were embroidered with vines matching the ones on his waistcoat. The colour of the robe was exactly the same shade as your dress.

Your arms hung uselessly at your sides as you gaped at him. He gave you a meek smile as he gazed longingly into your eyes.

“You look stunning, darling,” he said. “I’m not as light-footed as Lee, but I’d be honoured to dance with you.”

You realised that, while time had seemed to stop, it had in fact pressed on, and the band was now playing a waltz. Garreth lifted one hand off your hips and held it out to you. You just looked down at it, still processing how you had gotten in this situation. You glanced around in search of Leander, but he had vanished.

“What are you doing here?” you asked dimly.

Garreth’s smile grew nervous. “Making up with my girlfriend, I hope.”

He shifted anxiously as his hand still hung empty in the air between you. You stepped back, his other hand slipping off your hip.

“You said you didn’t want to dance with me,” you said accusingly, finally remembering that you were cross with him.

“I know. I’m sorry, but you’re so good at it. And I…I have two left feet. I thought it’d be worse to have you realise how dreadful I am than for you to just go by yourself,” he said, his hands retreating into his pockets. “I…didn’t want to embarrass you.”

He chewed his lip, as he often did when anxious. Your own lips parted as you stared at him in shock.

Evidently, you took too long to reply, because he started speaking again. “I know Leander and I can be a bit ridiculous sometimes. And I’ve had more than a few mishaps with potions in class – and it’s the thing I’m best at. I just…didn’t want to give you another reason to be ashamed of me.”

His gaze dropped to his feet as his hands fidgeted in his pockets.

“I’d never be ashamed of you,” you assured him, a bit offended that he’d think you would be.

“Really?” he asked, seeming genuinely surprised by the idea as he looked up at you in shock.

“Garreth, I love you. Every bit of you,” you stated. “Why on earth would I be ashamed of you?”

His cheeks flushed. “I mean, my family is,” he admitted, seeming to shrink into himself as his eyes darted away again. “And the professors seem perpetually disappointed in me. It’s twice as bad with Aunt Matilda.”

He forced out a laugh, but you could tell he was quite hurt by the situation.

You brought a hand up to his jaw, gently tilting his head up so he’d look at you. “Well, I think you’re brilliant,” you said. “And they have every reason to be as proud of you as I am, Garreth. You’ve invented half a dozen potions just since I’ve known you – and improved even more. You’re incredibly kind, even when others are mean to you. And you constantly make me laugh, especially when you and Leander are ‘being ridiculous.’”

He gave you a shy, appreciative smile before pulling you into a hug. “I love you, MC. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

You linked your arms around his back. “I’m sorry I didn’t just talk to you.”

He pressed a kiss into your pinned-up hair. “Me, too.”

You breathed out a laugh. “It was a pretty stupid fight when I think about it.”

“All our fights are stupid,” Garreth replied in an exasperated tone.

You pulled back to glare up at him. “Are you trying to start another one?” you asked in a low, warning voice.

Garreth smirked at you. “Maybe I like when you’re riled up,” he said cheekily. “You can’t wear a dress like this and expect me not to want to take it off of you, you know.”

“Garreth!” you hissed, smacking his chest as you glanced around to make sure no one had overheard him.

He pulled you back tight to him. “You really are especially gorgeous tonight,” he said in a low voice as his gaze roamed over you.

You could feel your cheeks heat under the fire in his eyes. “I…I think we should d-dance now,” you said, needing a distraction from the starved look in his eyes as they devoured you.

“Oh, um…” he said, suddenly nervous again. “I really only practised the waltz, so…maybe we could wait until they play another of those? I could get us some punch in the meantime.”

He had the most adorable hopeful smile on his face.

“Punch would be perfect,” you said sweetly.

“Done,” he said eagerly before darting off to fetch the drinks.

A blur of robes whirled over to you soon after. Leander had danced Sebastian over to where you stood. The latter’s black robes were a suspiciously similar style to the former’s – except his accents were red. Your fellow Gryffindor was looking exceptionally smug.

“Are my favourite lovebirds back in love?” Leander asked, waggling his eyebrows at you.

Your eyes narrowed into slits. “For a Gryffindor, you’re a snake, Leander Prewett.”

“I’m so proud,” Sebastian said, placing his hand on Leander’s cheek and gazing at him fondly. Then, he turned to look at you. “When he asked if he could pretend to take you to the ball, I said yes at once, of course.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “And what if we hadn’t made up?” you asked them severely. “What would you have done, then?”

Leander’s eyes widened as his smirk fell. He clearly hadn’t considered the idea.

“You two are too hopelessly besotted with each other for that,” Sebastian said easily, waving you off.

Garreth reappeared at your side then. “Here you go, love,” he said, handing you a glass before kissing your cheek.

“Thank you,” you murmured, a fresh blush dusting your cheeks.

“My work here is clearly done,” Leander said haughtily.

“I think you’re right, darling,” Sebastian agreed.

“Care to dance the night away?” Leander asked him, holding out his hand.

Sebastian beamed at him as he took it. “That sounds lovely,” he replied before they sauntered back to the dance floor.

Garreth leaned in to whisper in your ear. “See, that’s how you’re supposed to respond when a man asks you to dance,” he said teasingly.

“Oh, shut up,” you groused, but the words lacked any real bite.

“Never,” he retorted, a mischievous glint in his eye as you turned your head to glare at him.

He laced his fingers with the hand unoccupied by your drink.

“I have something for you,” he said.

You turned to face him. He dropped your hand and pulled a long, narrow box out from his pocket. It was too broad to be a wand but about the right length, and it had a gold ribbon tied carefully around it.

“Merry Christmas, MC,” he said softly.

Garreth traded the box for your drink. He was fidgeting as you examined it in your hands, clearly excited for you to open it. You carefully slipped the ribbon off before taking off the lid. Inside was a vibrant pink feather with a metal pointed tip.

Garreth started speaking before you could even thank him. “It took me a while to get the charms right. I just finished it up this morning, actually. It’s self-inking, so you don’t have to worry about an open inkpot spilling on your assignments. It’s spell-checking, too. That was the tricky part. But I got it sorted out, eventually. Promise.”

He laughed nervously. You were speechless for a moment as you looked up at him, warmth spreading through your chest as your heart squeezed with affection. Garreth bounced on the balls of his feet, the movement threatening to spill the glasses of punch in his hands. His bottom lip was grasped between his teeth, and a few stray curls were falling into his eyes.

You looked back down at the fwooper feather quill. “Garreth, this is so sweet,” you gushed, wondering how you’d managed to be upset with such a sweet man only a few hours ago.

His eyes lit up. “You like it?” he asked hopefully.

“I love it!” you assured him. “I have a gift for you, too, I just…I don’t have it with me.”

You left off adding that it was because you hadn’t expected him to be there. You didn’t want him to think you were still cross.

“All I wanted tonight is your forgiveness, MC,” he said with such earnestness that you worried you might melt right to the floor.

You brushed his hair out of his face. “You have it,” you replied, not wanting him to doubt it for a second. “Do you…do you forgive me, too?”

He ditched his punch on a tray floating nearby. He cupped his newly free hand over your cheek as he leaned in towards you, pressing his lips to yours gently in reassurance. He pulled back far too soon for your liking, though. “Always,” he vowed.

Your heart felt swollen to bursting. “I want to go get your present,” you said more intensely than the words merited as you reverently replaced the lid on the box.

“You don’t have to leave the dance. I know how much you were looking forward to it,” he said with such sweet consideration. You almost winced as you recalled calling him “inconsiderate” the other day. “You can give it to me tomorrow.”

“It should be now, I think,” you stated.

“It’s really not–” he started.

“It’s in the Room of Requirement,” you added, cutting him off. His brows drew together. He could tell you were trying to communicate something, but he couldn’t tell what it was. Bless him, you thought. “You should come.”

A beat later his eyebrows shot up to his curls as realisation struck. You almost laughed when he just replied with a rather serious “yes” before quickly abandoning the other nearly-full punch glass on the tray.

He followed you out of the Great Hall. Once alone in the corridors, you clutched the box to your heart with one hand and laced the other with his. He lagged behind you as you tugged him along.

“Getting cold feet?” you joked, hoping to speed him up a bit.

“Just admiring the view,” he replied cheekily.

You glanced over your shoulder to find him staring down at your bum. He smirked at you when he saw that you’d caught him.

“You’ll have a much better one once you get this dress off me like you promised,” you said in a sultry tone.

In the flickering candlelight of the hallway, you could see Garreth’s eyes darken as he held your gaze. Then, he took off sprinting and called back impatiently, “Come on!”

You giggled as you chased after him. He slowed to a jog to let you catch up. You only paused briefly to take off your heels. When you reached the seventh floor of the Astronomy Tower, he was on you before the entrance had even fully materialised. He held your face in both hands as he kissed you hungrily, backing you into the forming door.

A needy ache started low in your stomach as he nipped at your bottom lip. You’d been without him for too long, stupidly holding a grudge over a simple misunderstanding about…something, surely. You couldn’t remember what now.

Garreth held you to him with a hand behind your back as his other felt blindly for the handle. His hold on you kept you upright as the door gave way behind you. Your heels slipped from your fingers and clattered to the floor as he backed you inside, and you tangled your now free hand in the base of his curls as you devoured his lips.

Your back smacked into the wall, and Garreth pressed himself against you. Your legs parted to allow him in closer, and you could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against your centre. Your body tried to gasp and moan at the same time as he shifted his attention to your neck whilst his hips ground into yours. It was one of the most needy, pathetic sounds you’d ever made, but it seemed to spur him on even more.

“Fuck, MC,” he groaned into your neck before biting down on the skin where it met your shoulder.

Your legs almost gave out from the delicious sting of it. It hurt, but it brought a wave of pleasure, as well. You loved when Garreth was almost animalistic in his need for you.

Your head lolled to the side, opening up your neck to him further as you used your purchase in his hair to hold him close. You spotted the supply cabinet next to you, and you slipped the box containing your quill onto it before you lost yourself and dropped it.

You then slipped your hand between the two of you to palm the tent straining Garreth’s neatly pressed trousers. He shuddered at your touch and let out a breathy moan in your ear. You stroked your hand up and down the length of him until he suddenly grabbed your wrist and pinned it back against the wall.

“You’re going to ruin me early, you minx,” he growled.

You felt a jolt of excitement at the idea that just touching him over his trousers could have him so worked up. Before you could even contemplate how to get your hand free and back on him, he dropped your wrist in favour of grabbing a handful of your arse. At the same time, his lips rejoined yours in a dizzying kiss. You were pliant in his arms as he slid his tongue into your mouth.

Without breaking your kiss, Garreth rucked up your dress so his hand could slide under the fabric, skating up the outside of your bare thigh. He groaned as he hiked your leg up around him, pulling you even closer. His hips pressed forward into yours, seeking friction, and you gasped against his lips as his shaft pressed firmly at your centre. It put a delightful but maddening pressure on the bundle of nerves there.

“Garreth,” you moaned out. “Please.”

“Please what, love?” he replied breathily. His verdant eyes nearly burnt into you as he looked down at you with such love and earnest. “I’ll give you anything. Just name it.”

You groaned with need as your hips shifted against his, continuing to rub his shaft against your core in a way that sent sparks of pleasure through you. It wasn’t enough, though. “Please,” you repeated, feeling almost drunk with desire. “I need you.”

“Fuck,” Garreth muttered. The desperation in your voice was wearing away whatever self-control he had left – it was never much when it came to you anyway. “As you wish, love.”

His fingers danced over your skin and traced the edge of your knickers at the crease of your thigh. He dipped into them, stroking his long fingers between your folds and making you keen.

“Merlin,” he breathed out. “You’re drenched for me, darling.”

You moaned as the pads of his fingers came up and circled over your clit. Your head fell back against the wall with a dull thud, and you had to grip his shoulders for support as your legs began to tremble.

“You look really good in these dress robes,” you quipped, already panting from his ministrations. He knew your body well, and it never took long for him to work you into a right state.

Garreth smirked at you. “I’ll look even better in you, love.”

As he said the words, his finger slipped inside of you. He quickly found a spot that had a tension coiling low in your abdomen.

“Fuck, Garreth,” you keened. “Oh, gods! That f-feels so good!”

He took a handful of your skirts, pinning them against your stomach to leave your knickers exposed. Garreth dropped to his knees in front of you. You scrambled for new supports as you could no longer reach his shoulders. One hand scraped along the wall behind you while the other tangled into his curls.

“Evanesco,” Garreth said, his breath ghosting over your core. He watched his finger disappearing into you without the obstruction of your knickers. “So gorgeous.”

You could feel your face flushing at the praise. Garreth was quite keen on your intimate parts, and he always made sure you knew it.

He leaned forward and licked at your centre as his finger kept pumping into you. Garreth groaned even louder than you did. “Gods, you taste divine, darling,” he said before licking you again.

He kissed and sucked on your little nub, and you prayed your legs wouldn’t give out altogether. If they did, though, you were confident Garreth would catch you in time.

His tongue flicked over you eagerly, and the coil that had wound in your abdomen threatened to snap.

“Gar, I…I’m….” you tried, but then you couldn’t breathe let alone speak when your muscles tensed as you succumbed to utter euphoria.

You called out his name as waves of pleasure rocked through you, each sensation heightened as Garreth kept licking ravenously at you. You were practically convulsing from the intensity of your high. You might’ve felt embarrassed by your reaction if Garreth hadn’t looked so utterly enamoured with watching you fall apart so unreservedly.

About the same time, a loud crack rang out through the dimly lit room.

Garreth dropped your skirts and his head whipped around, his finger sliding out of you as he turned. You looked up blearily toward the noise, and your pleasure was immediately replaced with a shock of horror.

“Oh, dear!” Deek said, gaping at the two of you in such a compromising position.

Garreth blinked at the elf, whose eyes were wide and cheeks were reddening as he looked at the young wizard’s glistening face. You were too stunned and embarrassed to speak.

With a quick swish of his wand, Garreth calmed the erection that had been straining his outfit. He’d learned the spell early in your relationship, as you had a habit of riling him up at any number of inconvenient times – in class, during meals, before you left on some adventure. Essentially, any time he was around you, he was at risk, and the spell was easier than always donning oversized robes whose sleeves would dip into his cauldron when he tried to brew.

“Professor Weasley asked Deek to check on the students after they disappeared from the ball,” the elf said. He decided it was better to look at his feet than the pair of you. “She also asked Deek to remind Mr. Weasley that a child has not been born out of wedlock to your family in over a century and Mr. Weasley will not be changing that.”

Garreth, who has been furiously wiping off his mouth and chin, flushed crimson at that. “Right,” he said in a stilted tone, shifting nervously on his feet. “Is she expecting a…a report back?”

“Deek will not tell the professor what he, uh…stumbled in on,” the elf assured them. “But the students should return to the ball promptly. Deek does not want to have to come back.”

Another loud crack rang through the room as Deek left.

“Well, that was mortifying,” Garreth said as he rubbed at his temples.

“And you weren’t the one with your bits out,” you quipped as you fought the urge to bury your face in your hands. “At least Deek’s not going to tell your aunt.”

“Merlin, I half expect she’ll know anyway, to be honest,” he replied. He pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry. I should’ve known we wouldn’t get away with slinking out of the ball like that.”

You chuckled as you wrapped your arms around him, as well. “I was the one who lured you up here,” you pointed out.

“I came quite willingly,” he argued.

You brought your hand down to palm him through his trousers again. “You didn’t come at all, unfortunately.”

Garreth moaned, dropping his forehead onto yours as you stroked him, rapidly undoing the work of his spell.

You bit your bottom lip as you locked eyes with him. “I don’t think we have time for you to make good on your promise to get me out of this dress, but…” You spun in his arms, pressing your arse back against him as you braced your hands against the wall. “I think we could still make it work.”

Garreth groaned. He grabbed your hips, pulling you tight against him. He smoothed one hand over your arse appreciatively before sliding it down to grip low on your skirts. He pulled the fabric up around your waist, so your lower half was completely bare to him. He immediately bent to place a lovebite on the curve of your cheek, while his hands kneaded into both of them. You moaned as his teeth grazed your skin.

“You ready for me, love?” he asked, his lips brushing the mark he’d just left.

“Gods, yes!” you replied eagerly, shifting your hips back a bit further in an attempt to entice him to get on with it already.

Garreth stood up straight again as he undid his trousers. He pulled himself free from the garments and wasted no time in dragging the head of his cock through your soaked slit. He anchored a hand on your hip as he slid into you.

He let out a ragged breath as he bottomed out. “You feel amazing!” he groaned. His other hand gripped your hips, as well, and he began thrusting in and out of you. “You’ve no idea how much I missed you, love!”

You wanted to argue – tell him you were sure you knew exactly how much, because you’d missed him, too – but you could only keen as he rocked you forward with each of his thrusts, filling you completely on every push inside. There was really nothing like it. He felt tailor-made for you.

You were so enraptured that you almost didn’t notice when a mirror appeared on the wall in front of you. You gasped in surprise as you looked up, catching sight of Garreth’s reflection. He winked at you.

“Fuck, I was right,” he panted, causing you to draw your brows together in confusion. “I do look even better inside you.”

You let out a laugh. He was utterly ridiculous, and it only made you love him that much more.

“Don’t worry, love,” he said with a cheeky smile, still pumping into you and also still holding your gaze through the mirror. “You look even better. I mean, gods, look at you! All done up.” He wrapped a hand gently around your throat, letting his thumb stroke up your jaw and across your painted lips. You parted them and sucked his thumb into your mouth, pressing your tongue flat against the pad of it like you would the underside of his cock. Garreth’s eyelids fluttered as he let out a low moan. “And in this dress…” He withdrew his thumb and fisted the same hand into the fabric pooled up near your ribs. “Your arse…” He gave it a squeeze, the tips of his nails just barely digging into your skin. “I fucking love your bloody gorgeous arse!”

His thrusts grew firmer, his hips slapping louder against your cheeks and thighs. You moaned as the force sent shocks of pleasure through you.

“Faster,” you begged, half because you knew it’d take a quicker pace to get him off and half (maybe more) because you wanted him to pound into you until your body held the memory of his cock inside you forever.

Garreth was keen to oblige. His grip on your hips was bruising as he slammed into you at a pace that had you barely able to keep your breath let alone even think about trying to keep up with his movements. All you could do was brace yourself on the wall as he took you.

“Ah, fuck!” Garreth groaned as you clenched hard around him. In the mirror, you could see that his head was thrown back in ecstasy. “So bloody perfect!”

His eyes snapped open, immediately locking with yours as his movements stuttered. He let out a strangled moan as he came, his cock pulsing deep inside you. You could feel the warmth dripping down as his semen started to leak out of you. Rather than pull out, Garreth leaned down over top of you to capture your lips. One arm wrapped around your stomach while the other hand tilted your chin toward him. You were both panting, unable to go without oxygen for long, but the brief kiss expressed the depth of your affections all the same.

“You’re never allowed to be cross with me again,” Garreth joked. “I can’t stand being apart from you for so long.”

You were inclined to vow he never would be as you stared into his bright green eyes, crinkling at the corners as he beamed at you.

“I can’t bear it, either,” you said.

Garreth pressed another chaste kiss to your lips. “I love you, MC. So much.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I love you, too. Even more.”

He glared at you playfully. “Those are fighting words, witch.”

Your smile turned into a smirk. “Then I’m lucky I’m a much better duellist.”

Garreth rolled his eyes but couldn’t deny it. Finally, he moved to right himself, sliding out of you before he helped you upright, as well. You both made quick work of making yourselves presentable – smoothing out your clothes, fixing your hair, and ensuring neither of you retained the sweat or musk of your recent activities. Garreth pouted a bit when you conjured new knickers for yourself, as he rather liked the idea of having easy access should you get the opportunity to sneak off again.

Once you were both put together, Garreth started for the door.

“Wait! I haven’t given you your present!” you said, quickly moving to rummage in your cabinet.

He chuckled. “I assumed you were the present.”

You glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow. “That’d be rather selfish of me, wouldn’t it?”

Garreth grinned broadly. “Actually, I considered it quite generous.”

You rolled your eyes, but you did find it rather sweet. “Consider this a stocking stuffer, then,” you said as you handed him a small box.

Garreth opened it to reveal a stack of cardstock. His mouth fell open as he picked up one of the small, rectangular cards to get a closer look.

“I saw the logo in your notes, and I thought it was really good,” you explained. “I figured you’ll need these once we graduate.”

Garreth looked from the card to you and back down again. In golden, embossed lettering were the words Exquisite Elixirs in a large, curly font curved underneath a rendering of a cauldron whose whirls of steam were spiralling upwards off the paper. On the other side, there was a little portrait of Garreth and a description of his company.

He still hadn’t spoken, so you continued, “If you tap it with a wand, it turns into an order form. I know you plan on being able to fill orders by owl.”

He looked up at you again, and his eyes were misty now. He pulled you into a tight hug. “Thank you! These are perfect!”

Ever since he started the process to register the brand, his parents had seemed doubtful. They kept lecturing him on what a “serious business” it was to run a company. His older brother had a friend of his lecture him on the myriad permits and regulations involved in the brewing industry – all things Garreth had already learnt in his research and discussions with Mr. Pippin. His aunt had tried to convince him to take a year or two to apprentice at J. Pippin’s, but Garreth knew he didn’t need it. He’d spent ages at the shop picking the potioneer’s brain. He’d also hounded Sharp with his questions during his office hours – almost no one else went to them, anyway.

The business cards, aside from showing how closely you paid attention, indicated that you actually believed in him. That meant the world to Garreth, especially because he knew you weren’t scared to let him know when you thought an idea of his was foolish. You wouldn’t just go along with things to make him feel good. You truly thought that he could run a successful shop.

He slipped one of the cards into his pocket before tucking the box safely with the rest of his brewing supplies.

The two of you took the floo down to the Great Hall to save time. You slipped back into the ball and immediately noticed Professor Weasley’s scrutinising gaze on you. You resisted the urge to smooth your hair, as it would only incriminate you. Instead, you gave her a polite wave.

She waved back, but you didn’t like the knowing look her smile had. You flushed as you quickly pulled Garreth toward the drink table. You were practically dying of thirst. You ran into Natty and Poppy as Garreth poured you both drinks. They both looked stunning in their gowns. Poppy’s was yellow with cap sleeves and full skirts. Natty’s was a brilliant white with her sleeves to her elbows and a corset nipping in her waist before the flair of her bustle.

“I was glad to hear you and Garreth finally made up,” Natty said, smiling at you as you approached.

“Did Leander already tell you?” you asked.

“Ominis did,” Poppy said.

You raised an eyebrow. “How did Ominis know?”

“I know everything that happens in this castle,” the Slytherin said as he stepped up to Poppy’s side. He handed her a drink before wrapping his arm around her waist.

“So, Leander told you and you told them?” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I didn’t need to be told anything,” Ominis said arrogantly.

Garreth returned with your drink, and you gave him an appreciative smile.

“I’m quite observant on my own,” Ominis continued. “Which is how I know you two have been up to no good. Couldn’t wait for dinner to find something to eat, Garreth?”

The redhead choked on his punch. “W-what?” he spluttered, wiping his mouth with a serviette a house-elf had promptly provided.

Poppy and Natty went wide-eyed as they caught Ominis’s meaning. Your face was burning. How could he know? Had Deek told?

“Don’t be coy now,” Ominis teased. “It’s quite obvious. I could – ahem – smell her on you when we were getting drinks. I wouldn’t hug your aunt without cleaning up if you don’t want detentions until you graduate.”

Poppy clapped a hang over her mouth to keep from giggling. Natty looked horrified. You and Garreth both gaped at Ominis. You had checked before you left the Room of Requirement. You swore you couldn’t smell anything that would suggest what the two of you had been up to in there. But, then, Ominis often heard things you couldn’t. Maybe it was the same with his sense of smell? At any rate, you were never going to live this down.

“I think they’re playing a waltz,” Garreth said, turning to you. “How about that dance?”

You downed your drink and took hold of his outstretched hand. “That sounds like a great idea,” you replied.

“Leave room for the nargles!” Ominis called after you before snickering with Poppy.

You made it onto the dance floor and were quickly lost in the crowd of swirling couples. You hid your face in Garreth’s chest, but you couldn’t help laughing. “Oh, gods, I think this is officially the most mortifying night of my life,” you said light-heartedly once you’d composed yourself.

Garreth started to spin you as you danced now that you weren’t burying your face in his robes.

“I think we’d best get our own place once we’re out of this castle full of nosy gits,” he said resolutely.

You let out another laugh. “Yeah, living together unwed wouldn’t have people talking at all,” you said sarcastically.

Garreth lifted his hand, and you turned under it before stepping back into his arms. “It would, wouldn’t it?” he said, giving you a knowing smile.

You gave him a questioning look in return.

“I’m not about to propose on – as you put it – ‘the most mortifying night of your life’ if that’s what you’re thinking,” Garreth said severely as he continued to lead you around the dance floor. “But if I were to…?”

“Were to what?” you replied, playing thick, as he dipped you.

“Were to propose, obviously,” Garreth said, exasperated, before pulling you back up. “What would you think of it?”

As you did another turn, you suppressed a smile that threatened to break onto your lips. “Are you, then?” you asked before clarifying, “Proposing?”

“Not yet,” he replied with an easy smile as he stepped forward to take you back in his arms.

“Then I’m not telling,” you stated, a hint of a sly smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Garreth rolled his eyes at you. “You vex me, witch,” he said drily.

“I just know you like surprises,” you replied innocently.

“Good ones,” he clarified.

 “Exactly,” you said, winking at him.

A broad grin spread on his face, and he seemed lost in thought as he stared over your shoulder as the two of you spun slowly around the room.

You snapped him out of it when you said seriously, “This isn’t about that message from your aunt, is it? You haven’t been skipping your potions?”

“No, of course not. I take them every week,” he said. “You?”

“Every month,” you assured him.

“That’s so not fair,” he groused. “Why are the contraceptives for blokes four times as often?”

“We’ll see what’s ‘not fair’ when I’m the one carrying our babies for nine months each,” you retorted.

Garreth smirked at you. He looked insufferably smug.

“What?” you bit out, not seeing the humour in all the hardships that were sure to come with your future pregnancies.

“You said ‘when,’” he pointed out.

“Huh?” you replied, befuddled.

“You said, ‘when I’m the one carrying our babies,’” he said, doing a poor – and rather screechy – imitation of your voice.

You smacked him on the chest. “I do not sound like that,” you groused.

Garreth’s grin grew even wider. He looked utterly chuffed. “But you did say it. ‘When’ and ‘our.’ You want to have my babies.”

“Shut up,” you said tetchily, trying to pull out of his arms so you could go dig a hole to crawl into.

Garreth just held you tighter, laughing at your attempts to wriggle free. “You want to marry me and have my babies, and I’m happy to oblige, love. You just tell me when.”

You froze as you gaped at him. “Did you just–?”

“Officially? No. I’m still not letting you tell our children I proposed on the most mortifying night of your life,” he said seriously.

“There is very little about this night fit to tell any children, let alone our own,” you quipped.

Garreth gave you a lopsided smile. “Yeah,” he said wistfully. “It’s been a good one.”

You shook your head at him. “You’re incorrigible,” you said disapprovingly.

He stared at you like you were as luminous as one of the twinkling lights floating above you. “You’re incredible,” he said fondly before dipping his head to kiss you.

You melted in his arms as Garreth held you tight to his chest.

“Oi! Get a room, you degenerates!” Leander said, bumping Garreth’s shoulder as he twirled by with a sniggering Sebastian.

“That’s not as effective as you might think!” Garreth called back, making you laugh.

#garreth weasley #hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley x mc #garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #garreth weasley fanfic #garreth weasley fanfiction #garreth weasley being a sweet insecure little bean #ominis gaunt #leander prewett #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x leander prewett #because i must always include enemies to lovers somehow lol #but I actually love their dynamic #i lowkey ship it #yule ball

[caandlelit]

Tokoyami takes full advantage of the darker parts of his quirk when he threatens you. You feel trapped in an eternal darkness, like the air was being stolen out of your lungs. He speaks simply, but full of venom. He's shrouded by this aura of calm vexation. He feels toxic to even be around and his apparent apathy makes it more scary. He feels no guilt when he's reached that point. He's one of the slowest to get angry, and when he does, there's no stopping him. You'd never been scared of the dark until that day.

Momo says how she can buy everything you own. How she could take everything that gives you happiness until you're a shell of what you once were. How she has connections, and could ruin your life with a simple phone call. She radiates pure, controlled rage and you want to get away as fast as possible. You feel as if you're going to die at any moment and from that day forward you'll always look over your shoulder, too scared to sleep.

Uraraka is right next to Shoto in scary, and beside Izuku in surprising. She threatens in smiles. Her usual cheery attitude and excitement don't fade as she happily tells you how she'll make your life a living hell. She laughs as she says how she'll make you watch everyone you care about die before you, knowing you could have avoided it. She doesn't raise her hand, but she leaves you trembling and wetting your pants. You'll have nightmares. Sounds like Toga? It's because they're girlfriends.

Shoto is incredibly blunt with his threats. He somehow corners you alone, and calmly tells you how he could kill you, make it look like an accident, get rid of the body, and get away with it. In excruciating detail. He'll leave you sacred for your life, and regretting the day you got on his bad side.

Tsu will stare into the depths or your soul, daring you to piss her off. Being incredibly blunt, she will, just to make sure you get the message, just walk up to you and threaten to slit your throat or something.

Izuku has, after the first year, gotten into the habit of outright threatening pro heroes. It's blackmail more times than not, he has the info to ruin them. It started with Endeavor, then slowly All Might, after he got sick of beings pushed too hard, and extended until all pro heroes that weren't Aizawa, Present Mic, or Fatgum were doing his bidding.

Tenya regularly subtly threatens to call Japanese CPS on Endeavor to knock him down some rankings on the hero list. Nothing he can be charged with, and nothing that anyone out of 1A can trace back to him, but threats to keep him in-line. Have to make him know his place every now and then.

Izuku and Shoto would be the heroes parents want their kids to look up to. Momo and Mina would be the heroes parents want their female kids to look up to, specifically.

You know how 1A all want to be like All Might (mostly)? When they find out what being a 'Symbol Of Peace' really entails, I don't think they'd want to be on anymore. So they'd become beacons of hope, with Izuku shining the brightest out of all of them.

I know they don't technically have to live together if they're all part of one big hero agency. But like. It would be so fun if they did. And with the local rich kids (Momo, Tenya and Shoto), God knows it's gonna be some big-ass mansion. And it'd be sort of a throwback of sorts to the dorms. And I feel as if they'd the be glad for that familiarity, with how much change is occurring. And also, Bakugo and Monoma under the same roof would be fucking hilarious.

I want to see Shoto deck a fellow UA student for saying the wrong thing. Like maybe they'd say "Bakugo acts like a such a villain, no wonder everyone is scared of him." And Shoto would just look around to see Ochaco holding Izuku back with identical looks of rage on their faces. He'd see Bakugo looking down at his feet, trying his best to look unbothered, but his frown is more sad than his usual one. He'd see the Bakusquad trying to convince him it's not true. He'd see Tsu with her fist clenched, and Tenya glaring daggers at the person, and just deck the guy. Incases his fist in ice, to make the blow harder. Kick him a few times too. And would look up at their shocked faces and shrug, "No one fucks with my family. And Bakugo? He's family. All of you are." Deku just starts bawling there and then.

There's no UA traitor, and they just forgot to remove Touya from the family group chat.

After Monoma realizes that no one stops Bakugo from coming after him when he says dumb shit, learns to control his mouth by their first year of working/living together. Interviewers would ask him, "How do you manage with number 2 (tied with Shoto) pro hero DynaMite trying to 'kill you the time?" And Monoma would just answer, with deep tiredness in his voice "Speed, self control, and not sleeping."

HC that Uraraka's quirk isn't zero gravity. It's gravity manipulation, so zero gravity is just a subsection of that. Her quirk exceeds the rules of zero gravity, and it's plausible that because she didn't have much money growing up, she wasn't able to get it properly tested, which should have been free, but we've established hero society is fucked up. This means, essentially, that she should be able to create a black hole. It'd take a lot of training, and a crap ton of effort, and she'd never do it, but she could.

The heroes should be glad 1A (Shinsou and Izuku especially) are good people. Because they could ruin them. They could take down hero society by themselves, and they all have been given reason too! They're just good people, and the heroes should appreciate that. Because the moment they stop being good people? It's all over.

HC that Aoyama is one of those kids that has known he was gay since birth, and never had to come out because people just knew.

Just realized something, feeling sad so you must too. Shigaraki could have been Touya's Izuku in another world. In a less fucked up universe, they could've been friends. Shigaraki- Tenko could have saved him.

Monoma is trying to start an enemies to lovers with all of 1A, Shinsou included. He obviously knows nothing about social interactions, maybe the poor boy is just trying to flirt the only way he knows how: being a prick.

In the Combined Hero Agency, fans and other heroes wonder how Mei keeps up. She's the only support hero, makes (though her interns help) and designs hero costumes AND support items for everyone in the agency, while also making them for her interns when asked, AND has time to participate in family game night every other week.

She really has no secret, just a love for what she does, hard work, dedication plus a lot of time and patience. That doesn't mean she doesn't endorse the rumors she has some secondary quirk or something, she actually enjoys fuelling the fire and watching it unfold. Fucking with the media is her favorite pastime.

At some point, Class 1A convinced Shinsou to make Endeavor to say "I'm a giant piece of shit" live on TV. And that was only after they swore up and down that he wouldn't be kicked out of the hero course, and promised to take the fall if anything goes wrong. The worst thing that happened was All Might trying to say what he did was wrong but he was told to fuck off.

The boys in class 1A like lending their jackets/sweaters/hoodies/jumpers to the girls. And the girls don't return them a lot, and only Mei, who feels bad if she keeps them, returns them, surprising the boys. You leave yours in the common room, don't expect it to be there in 30 minutes. And it didn't stop there. The boys also take each others' cover-ups (Shoto started this by asking to borrow Tokoyami's), and take the girls'. They find them comfortable and soft, and they nice-smelling. Basically everyone's wardrobes (private stuff is kept separately) is up for grabs by second year.

1A and (most of) 1B (+ Mei) are just like so, physical affectionate with each other. So much that even when they're pro heroes, the media isn't sure which relationships are which. Even when they clarify, they don't do anything to stop the rumors and even revel in it, fuelling them from time to time. Like, Ochaco would show up to an interview wearing Izuku's gloves, and the next she'll be in Tokoyami's sweater. Not to mention that her and Tsu are dating a (former) VILLAIN.

What if Momo like, buys a house. But not just a house. Like when they're still UA students, she buy a house for all her friends that don't want to go home over the holidays/weekends. It's (surprisingly) a lot of them.

Katsuki because he doesn't want to get yelled at after almost dying a crap ton. Denki because his parents will be mad about his grades, and he's trying, but it's so hard, and he can't focus. Ashido because she gets made fun of back home for her looks. Shoto because Enji. Tenya because he wants some time away from the pressure of his family to "live up to the Ingenium name", and don't get him wrong, he wants to be the new Ingenium, but he also when he just wants to be Tenya for a bit. Ochaco because she's tired, and wants a break. She loves her parents, but it's so much stress. Tsu because she'd rather be with her friends. Shinsou because he doesn't have a home. And much, much, more.

I think Dabi would've turned out more like Shoto if he had an Izuku. They were incredibly similar, in mentality and around the same backgrounds. The main difference is that Shoto has people to support him now, Dabi didn't. If Dabi had someone like Izuku to help him, help break down his walls, to make him feel validated, and seen (which, as I stan Shiggy and Izuku being siblings because AFO, could have been Tenko in a different world) he wouldn't be a villain.

Kids that are worried that they'd lose their friends when they become heroes would be So happy too. Like "I want to become a hero, but what if my friends and I lose touch? I don't wanna leave them behind, even if we're pros!" While they'd just be there like "we've been with each other since high school bro. they don't have to go nowhere lol"

HC that their fans would start to believe God is a woman, because Momo.

And like, they would be regular visitors at schools and orphanages. None of them ever got to be kids, and very few of them had good experiences with school, so they would want to inspire more kids. That they can become heroes, too. They'd definitely keep all the gifts they got, plus Momo and Izuku seem like the type to pin up every drawing they get from their kid fans in their offices, no matter how good/bad. It'd be good morale, and the kids of the next generation of heroes would have perfect role models to look up to.

It'd be cute if 1A didn't go on to start their own hero agencies. I mean, they'd have to figure something out with Tenya and Shoto, but I feel as if they would go on to make one, big hero agency instead. They have the perfect selection of quirks and personalities, from rescue heroes to support ones! With a bit of help from their friends, of course. (Yes, Mei is included. I love her too much not too)

Sero and Denki seem like the type to get (platonically) married, though Sero is aroace (personal HC) and Denki is dating Shinsou. No one even blinks an eye anymore, too used to their BS.

I HC that Shoto was previously very closed off with his siblings, even after he was allowed to spend time with them. I want to see, after spending time with 1A, him open up. Slight things at first, like offering to go for a run with Natsuo, or giving Fuyumi a kiss on the cheek, to going to amusement parks with Natsuo, and talking about his day and friends with Fuyumi. They not sure what caused this change at first. But then they meet Izuku, and the rest of the IzuCrew, and 1A, and suddenly it all makes sense, and God do they love these kids.

I want to see 1A actively antagonize Endeavor, but only when there's no one that would tell around. Like, anything they can get away with legally, and somethings they can't, but they make sure to not get caught. Natsuo loves it.

I have this HC that around the middle of the year, 1A just gave up on sleeping separately, or the "everyone sleep in your room" rule. After the horrific bullshit they'd been through together, they figured out that sleeping in the same room as each other helped the (inevitable) night terrors that came. And setting a time that everyone should be in their rooms was disastrous. So now it's common to see Shoto or Izuku in Tenya's room, or Mina and Kirishima in Bakugo's, or some nights they all just sleep in whoever has the most space at the time.

I want to see 1A when they're in 2A move into the dorms again. Like, Enji would go "Shoto I don't want you in the dorms this year." And Shoto, who's been waiting to go back since the dorms closed and has already packed all his shit goes ". . . You've gotta be shitting me, old man. I'm gonna go see my friends, who I value more than you. Fuck you." Then freeze him, grab his bags and run to the spot where the rest of the class agreed to meet, to get food then got to the dorms.

Shoto is constantly being used as the class portable heater, and has learnt to accept it, not without making the occasional "I went through years of abuse and trauma for this" comment though

Hatsume and Izuku should be friends. I feel like they'd understand each other. The others try, but they're the only ones who can keep up with how fast each other's brains go.

I want to see 1A visit Rei in the hospital. It started as Shoto introducing his friends to his mom, but they grew fond of her, and now visit her regularly to talk, and update her on what's going on with like Shoto, or school

Imagine if there was no UA traitor, and they just forgot to remove Touya from the family group chat.

Rei should be introduced to Izuku as "my best friend", Tenya as "the friend who stops me from doing bad things", and Kastuki as "my other best friend, though he denies it". Shoto with his lack of social skills would just go "Oh Bakugo? We're friends. He's like that with everyone."

Rei doesn't need to know about the murder, what she doesn't know can't hurt her. And whenever Shoto tries to mention it to her, Tenya just slaps his hand on his mouth to shut him up, or nudges him aggressively until he (after a long time) gets the message .

After a while, when Izuku is asked what hero he wants to be like, he responds All Might. Why wouldn't he? All Might is bold, courageous, strong, and always saves people with a smile. The perfect hero.

But in his mind, he only has one true answer. Eraserhead. Mr. Aizawa is the perfect hero, maybe not to the public, but to his problem children. He's always there for them, and hasn't failed them like a lot of heroes and the society at large has.

Aizawa-sensei is the epitome of everything they strive to be, and though they'll always give different answers: All Might, Hawks, Powerloader, Cementoss, Lunch Rush, there'll always be one true answer. Something only they know. Mr. Aizawa is the ideal hero.

Dark Shadow uses they/them or it/its pronouns. Just makes sense, considering Dark Shadow isn't human, and likely doesn't conform to the same rules of gender we do

Considering Shoto (canonically) trauma dumps to make best friends (Izuku and Katsuki), it's only a matter of time until he does the same for Tenya. Especially after the Stain arc. And I feel like it'd just SHATTER his world view of heroes and hero society. He sees it through even more rose-tinted glasses than Izuku, so the realization that someone wildly viewed as a hero could so such things and get away with it would be totally new to him. Especially because the only experience he had was with Tensei, who is the ideal hero.

Back on my 1A and 1B hero agency bullshit, all their interns love them. They're always so kind to their interns and treat them really well, despite how they normally are or treat their fellow heroes. They remember what it felt like during their own internships, being scared and on their toes. They don't want their interns to feel like that around them.

In their shared agency, Kota and Eri intern there of course, but so do a bunch of other hero students. Some from Gen Ed too, anyone they feel like have potential, application or not.

The Combined Hero Agency (I don't have a name yet) most definitely teach their interns quirkless self defense, for all the times their quirks have failed them or made things more difficult. Hand to hand and using a variety of weapons.

1A is used to Mei and Izuku (Sometimes Tenya tags along. Very rarely, Denki) meeting up to talk costumes and mad genius shit, with Izuku's quirk analysis and Mei's skill in building, 1A would have the best costumes.

these are all so extensive and thought out .......... i love this anon uve put work into these they're so excellent .......... i love 1a family dynamics :( godddd i love them theyre lovely i love this AHHHHH MAN

#long post #anon #ask #bnha #1a

[nikkoliferous]

Phase One: Thor

Since I was looking up my past live-blog of the novel and realising how annoying and repetitive reading through it all is because of my having structured it as a bunch of reblogs, I’ve decided to organize it all into one long-ass post instead. In case anyone else wants to read it in the future. Or in case I decide to re-read it. Because I’m hilarious. 😅

SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO

My Hilarious Yet Wrathful Overview Of Phase One: Thor, Redux

—

If your son who’s to become king requires a babysitter to not screw it all up and also the idea of him being king is stressful enough to put you into a coma, maybe, uh… reconsider doing that? Just a thought.

But you see here why Odin was so deadset on Thor becoming king, despite him being ill-suited for the role. It’s not about what’s best for Asgard; it’s about personal legacy. Thor is Odin’s mini me, and Loki is very much not. There are places within the text where Odin laments Thor “lacking his father’s wisdom” (he’s definitely inherited your humility, though, Odin!), but he hopes for Thor to grow into a “wise king” like himself. Whereas he holds no such illusions (lol, pun) that Loki will ever take after him.

now with tag commentary! #this scene is in the script and both novelizations #(though in reading this novel seems to just be a more complete version of the junior novel? #idk i'm confused because they're supposedly written by different authors but so far the text is identical) #and it drives me insane each time i read it

“Haha, I’m a warmongering piece of shit, isn’t it funny?”

I know, I know. I try to cut Asgard some slack for being such a militaristic culture because social changes happen slowly and when you live for thousands of years per generation, it makes sense that your views on things like war would be regressive. The text says Odin has ruled Asgard for tens of thousands of years (so much for taking Loki’s “give or take 5,000 years” line literally; sure, the Odinsleep would have extended Odin’s lifespan, but by that much? Idk).

Still, fuck Odin. Especially since he’ll eventually try to shame Loki for doing the same thing he’s fucking boasting about here. And on a much smaller scale too.

…is it, though?

I actually think Loki’s relationship with being the centre of attention is really interesting in its complexity and we don’t discuss it enough. I’ve said this before, but he strikes me as the sort of person who craves attention but also wouldn’t really know what to do with it if he had it. He craves it as a result of neglect, because he’s never been shown recognition or validation. This is why he seems to revel in it in Stuttgart, even in (or maybe especially in?) his brainwashed state. But he also frequently comes across as pretty introverted and has horrible self-esteem, so I think on another level, sustained, genuine attention would make him feel kind of uncomfortable. Loki seems to believe that in order to be loved or respected, he has to literally be Thor, though. And Thor has always been the centre of attention, so for Loki, attention is synonymous with respect.

I find Loki’s relationship with wanting attention especially fascinating because I too both crave and fear it. As a borderline, I need it. When no one is paying attention to me, I lose my sense of identity. I feel as though I literally cease to exist. It’s excruciatingly painful. And yet, I have no authentic sense of self; I’m just a chameleon, and the closer people get to me, the more likely it is they’ll see behind my mask. They’ll realise it’s all a show and that I’m actually no one. And then they’ll leave. I can’t help wondering if that’s how Loki feels sometimes too.

Wait, what? You mean goat. His horns are shaped like a goat’s. This is a ram: 

This is a goat:

This is Loki:

Do you see now? They’re like a goat. Not a ram. Not a cow. A GOAT.

This book was written before Ragnarok was a thing, so it may be unfair to connect the two, but it still seems worth noting that it was Thor who reduced Loki to being no more than a trickster to begin with. “You could be more,” my ass. Loki’s problem has never been that he was one-dimensional; it was always that the people in his life, including Thor, refused to see any other dimensions to him. Which makes those words particularly cruel—as if they aren’t cruel enough already, what with the physical torture and all. 

Always happy to have cause to point out that

Loki was on Thor clean-up duty their whole lives; he certainly was not trying to kill Thor.

People like to point to Loki’s attempted genocide of the Jötnar and attempted(-ish? lol) conquest of Earth as proof that he’s some kind of violent maniac. But in a little place I like to call reality, Loki was historically far less aggressive and bloodthirsty than his peers.

Question: why is one conqueror evil and the other is righteously entitled to ruling over the Nine Realms?

Asgardian exceptionalism FTW

I can’t even begin to imagine what would lead you to expect such a thing, Odin. 😂

Uh, ‘cause it is?? And also their planet is MELTING without it??

This is all only within the first two chapters, btw. Lmao

—

—

—

“Looking for answers,” my foot.

YOU WOULD THINK SO, WOULDN’T YOU??

#i mean unless you knew heimdall #he only commits treason on days that end in y

—

—

What’d I say? Thor clean-up dutyyyyy 

Just wanna remind everyone that this 

is why he’s smiling during this scene 

because it makes me laugh every time. 😂 

—

My heart breaks every time I remember that second excerpt because literally ALL OF IT happened to him when he survived falling through the wormhole. My poor boy. 😭

But also of note… Loki gets cold (and also does not like being cold). This interests me because 1) as many are aware, the prevalent headcanon that Loki has a low body temperature irritates me and 2) it possibly(?) lends weight to the theory that he may not be fully Jötun, whether by virtue of his birth or Odin’s spell.

Haha, look at this Feminist Icon™ trying to take credit for his female friend’s accomplishments! Truly inspiring. 

#for some reason the ragnarok lovers have somehow decided that thor is both a feminist and lesbian icon #whatever that means 🤷‍♀️ #and i'm still trying very hard to figure out why #is it literally just because he *says* he respects women or whatever in that dumb rambly conversation with valkyrie?

Ooh… you were so close to getting the point, Volstagg. So close. Take your tongue off Odin’s boot for just a couple minutes longer.

Also, the author just forgot the name of the Casket. How did this book get published? 😂

JUST LOOKING FOR ANSWERS, HUH?

Because fuck Loki, amirite? He, uh… he’s a prince too, you know.

Also… Fandral, you dweeb 😂

…am I reading too much into this, or did Odin just literally forget that Loki exists?

On the other hand, the author also seemed to forget Loki existed for most of this chapter, so who knows. 🤷‍♀️

lmao @ Jane immediately trying to convince herself she’s too rational to be attracted to a stranger 

Honestly, though, big mood. 

Just your periodic reminder that Thor’s sycophantic friends KNEW Loki was right and decided to throw him under the bus anyway. 

Just as I’ve always said: That was it. That was their ENTIRE rationale. That Loki *could* have done it, therefore he must have. Please tell me these people have nothing to do with Asgard’s justice system.

…lol, jk, Asgard has no justice system.

Ok, first of all, no.

Second: thank you, Fandral. You’re a self-absorbed cad, but also evidently Thor’s least stupid friend.

Thirdly, how…? First, it was, “Loki arranged all this because he’s jealous of Thor.” Now they’ve suddenly jumped all the way to, “All of Asgard is in danger.” What exactly does Sif think Loki is planning? He’s gonna, what… assassinate Odin and then sell Asgard to the Jötnar?

—

Please stop hurting me.

Just so there’s no confusion: this one sentence explains everything Loki did for the rest of the movie. It explains how a person who has been historically non-aggressive suddenly transforms into a warmonger. To prove himself a real Asgardian, like his brother and father and grandfather. 

—

…why did Odin fall into the Odinsleep in two completely different scenes in this book? I’m super confused.

Also, we really need to talk about how cruel it is of Marvel to keep forcing Loki to prove his loyalty again and again and again when he’s been doing so almost literally since we met him. And by “we need to talk about it”, I mean I need to tie Kevin Feige and co. to a chair and spend a minimum of five hours lecturing them on how poorly they understand their own fucking character.

Let’s just be clear here: they’re talking about Loki. They’re saying Loki, their LEGITIMATE king, is an enemy of Asgard, based on evidence so paper-thin it’s practically invisible. Just… please, let that sink in. Take a moment to appreciate how utterly fucked up that is. 

I’m sorry (not really), but Thor was so much funnier before Ragnarok.

This scene has always kind of bugged me. If Odin removed Thor’s powers, how come he can still control the weather? Confusing.

So what exactly was Thor’s plan anyway, before he realised he couldn’t lift Mjölnir? He was just gonna call on Heimdall to help him commit treason AGAIN, show up on Asgard against the expressed command of his king, and… Odin would just shrug and be like, “You got me, son! I guess I can’t keep you down. Welcome home!”?

…I mean, I guess that more or less is what happened in the end, but it’s hard to imagine it would have still gone down that way without all the stuff that happened with Loki. Idk.  

#look what i'm saying is... thor is not exactly a thinking person #no one on asgard is a thinking person #except loki but he's crazy now so he's also thinking somewhat poorly lol

Cool, Thor. Now imagine feeling that way for ONE THOUSAND YEARS and develop a little fucking empathy for your brother.

But you won’t.

You’ll brush off his feelings of worthlessness as “imagined slights”. 😒

Nice that somebody knows how the royal line of succession works, I guess… 

That sound you hear? Yeah, that’s just my heart breaking. NBD. 

First, they mislabelled it the Casket of Eternal Winters. Now it’s the Cask of Ancient Winters. Author must have been thirsty when they wrote this. Lol 

Look, not to nitpick, but this is not the recommended procedure when you see a storm that you don’t believe is of supernatural origin coming. I’m just saying. Lol 

Uh… ‘cause he is?? And your pals are committing treason AGAIN, Thor, so it technically is responding to a threat to Asgard. Just FYI.

Anyways, this is an important point that doesn’t get made often enough. People want to act like Loki illegally usurped the throne somehow, but even without the deleted scene that explicitly shows Frigga passing rulership to him (a scene which is, for some reason, entirely skipped over in this book, but whatever), understand this: Loki could not have controlled the Destroyer unless he was legitimately King of Asgard. The fact that he’s able to do so is irrefutable proof that his rulership is valid.

lmao you little shit

So… here’s my issue with this scene (and with Thor as a character): He always assumes that Loki’s acting out specifically to hurt him. That Loki’s entire life and thought process revolves around Thor. He does it in this scene, he does it in The Avengers… it’s just a chronic thing with Thor. Everything is viewed through the lens of Loki inexplicably hating him.

But that’s… just not accurate. Yes, Loki harbours a lot of jealousy towards Thor. But that’s not what’s happening in this scene. Loki is not trying to kill Thor here because he wants him dead; he’s doing it because Thor (and his friends) are getting in the way of Loki completing his ultimate goal. Loki tried to solve this problem non-violently, by lying about Odin being dead. It’s Thor’s friends who all but forced his hand by going behind his back and trying to bring Thor back to Asgard against Loki’s (and Odin’s!) direct orders.

For all the humility he’s learned in the past few days, this entire speech is still really all about Thor. About assuming that Loki’s doing this for personal reasons, because he holds a grudge against Thor for some unknown reason. This is implicit in his request to “take [my life] and end this.” It never even occurs to him that his friends are traitors to the Crown and Loki, as King of Asgard, is perhaps justified in pursuing them.

It also needs to be acknowledged that Thor’s apology here is hollow, even if it’s ultimately coming from his heart, because he has no idea what he’s apologising for. “Whatever I have done to wrong you” is not an apology. An apology addresses specific hurtful actions taken and commits to not repeating those mistakes in the future. Thor cannot commit to not repeating the hurtful things he’s done, because he doesn’t know what he’s done. Despite his best intentions, what Thor is doing here is actually kind of manipulative. He’s not addressing any substantive issue between the two of them; he’s just trying to talk Loki down. And it ultimately fails not because Loki doesn’t care or because he wants Thor dead, but because it doesn’t actually change anything.

Finally and only semi-relatedly, we should maybe at some point talk about the fact that Loki, who is stated to be a master tactician, has displayed a weird pattern of hardly ever being as lethal as he could be. He freezes Heimdall in place instead of killing him outright; he backhands Thor with the Destroyer instead of incinerating him; he, well… *gestures vaguely at almost the entirety of the first Avengers movie* Anytime the violence is even a little bit personal, he seems to hedge. Odd behaviour for somebody who’s supposedly super evil.

I’m sorry, I know I’ve pointed it out at least a hundred times before, but I just can’t encounter this scene in any form without taking a moment to appreciate how underrated and hilarious it is.

I also genuinely wonder how many Ragnarok stans who have accused me of having no sense of humour, have failed to laugh at moments like this one. Kinda feel like if you need to have the comedy spoonfed to you in the form of ass jokes, maybe you’re the one whose sense of humour is lacking. 🤷‍♀️

Let’s be super clear: this is not what happened. Loki did not betray Odin; he was betrayed by Odin. He did not open Asgard to its enemies; he attempted, misguidedly, to destroy Asgard’s enemies. And he most certainly did not commit suicide out of a sense of guilt.

I’m not saying Loki did nothing wrong, nor am I saying he feels no regret for the lives he has taken. What I’m saying is there’s no indication that he believes he betrayed Odin or Asgard in the process. Which makes perfect sense, because he didn’t. Everything he tried to do was for Odin and Asgard. It was misguided and horrible, yes, but it can hardly be classified as a betrayal.

The insurmountable burden on Loki is not that he did terrible things, but that no matter what he does or how hard he tries, Odin will never look at him with anything but contempt. Consider once more these passages from the very beginning of the book, at Thor’s coronation:

—

Consider that this book goes to great pains to point out that Odin favours Thor because Thor is a warrior like him. And yet even when Loki embraces that, even when he acts more war-like than ever before, Odin rejects him— just as he always has.

There is a reason why this moment is the last time Loki will ever call Odin his father. Because he realises once and for all that, no, nothing he tries will ever be good enough; no, Odin won’t ever look at him with pride. That is Loki’s burden. That is why he lets go.

The epilogue is really just two pages of making me want to vomit. 

There’s your party where Thor and a certain subset of the fandom insist that Loki was mourned. There’s barely an indication here that anyone even perceives his demise as a negative thing.

“[Sif] could see Frigga thought [Loki was dead] as well” also contradicts the tie-in comic for TDW, so I don’t know what the author is on about there. Unlike the majority of Marvel comics, the tie-in comics are canon to the MCU, so it’s a bizarre statement to make.

COULD YOU SMEAR THE DEAD* ABUSE VICTIM A LITTLE HARDER, PLEASE? Fucking hell.

No matter how many times I encounter this scene, in whatever format, I still fail to become desensitized to how disgusting it is. I realise there’s a good chance that whatever version of events Thor has been told was twisted at best; but how you can look at a man whose son has just committed suicide under any circumstances and say there will never be a better father than that guy, is utterly beyond my capacity to understand.

And Odin’s “you’ve already made me proud” line just feels like extra salt in the wound because, again, Loki let go because he realized Odin would never say those words to him. And yet they come so damn easily when it’s Thor.

Fuck this entire family so much. I think I hate them more than Loki does. Sometimes I wonder what he would think about that. How he would react to knowing that not only is he actually loved, but that he’s so loved that people are genuinely furious at the way he’s been mistreated. That there are people who regularly devolve into full-on rants because they just can’t contain how much anger they have towards the people who hurt him. I think he’d have a hard time wrapping his head around that concept, tbh.

Anyways, to end on a not-completely-depressing note, I’m still waiting for someone at Marvel to explain how Loki knew what Thor said in this scene after plummeting into a wormhole. ‘Cause he references this conversation as Fauxdin at the end of TDW. So like… ?? Did he steal Odin’s memories before he erased them? Because that would be… kind of neat, actually. And very clever. Not entirely ethical, of course, but it’s Odin, so fuck ethics.

WELP, THAT’S IT. Thanks for following along with my dumbassery, hope you enjoyed yourselves. Lol

#phase one: thor #loki meta #thor meta #odin's a+ parenting #frigga's b+ parenting #topic: thor and loki's broken relationship #loki #thor #heimdall #lady sif #the warriors 3 #jane foster #ragnarok cinematic universe #mcu #topic: asgardian hypocrisy #topic: asgardian militarism #topic: odin's family dynamic

[searchingforbucky]

Fic Rec (Part 19) :)

Hi everyone! And welcome to day 1273198172 of quarantine lol. On a serious note, I hope you all are staying safe, happy, and healthy. I know these stories in this list provided me much needed entertainment for the past week or so, and I’m hoping they will help you all the same. I love this AU, its always so fun to see the different routes people take, so without further ado welcome to the Vampire!Bucky Rec List :) *** Means Smut Sorry its a bit short, theres not many out there. The links weren't working so there is none in this.

Biting Cold by @hootyhoobuckaroo

OK so this one I think is a perfect start to the vampire list. This one is absolutely fantastic. So it’s about Bucky and the reader being in a pre-establish relationship, when suddenly some freaky stuff starts happening very close to home. So Buckys a Vampire, and the reader doesn’t know it. But the reader is terrified of vampires. Obviously that causes a little problem. I just really liked how unique of a storyline this was, I love just how genuine the fear was and the emotions they had were. It constantly kept me on the edge of my seat because I was wondering what was gonna happen. I am absolutely in love with protective bucky so you know that this has it lol. And honestly I just really loved how one it was well written, but to reply with something that I had never read before. And I don’t wanna spoil it or anything, but it was just a real nailbiter. Definitely recommend. 

All My Friends Are Heathens by @sebseyesandbuckysthighs ***

OK, so I think this one was the first vampire Bucky story that I ever read, and it’s absolutely fantastic. So this one is about Bucky being a vampire, and he’s amongst the avengers who are all their own sort of “monster“. And the reader comes to visit them, and Bucky is just absolutely drawn to her, and unfortunately she is human. I think my favorite thing about this story is just how well drawn out each character is, I was absolutely invested in not only their relationship growing, but the whole storyline in general. I was obsessed in learning about what the different monsters were, what their little thing was that they did. And I really loved how absolutely cocky and mysterious Bucky was. This one is smutty, but nothings wrong with that LOL. This is just a really good, really head turning story. A lot of twists in this

Bad Things by @xbuchananbarnes *** (kinda)

All right, now this one is really something. So this one was incredibly interesting. It’s about Bucky in the reader being in a pre-established relationship, and he promised to turn her when she turns 28, but in the meantime he makes her move to 10 different places so that way she can get used a whole bunch of different things that she would have to win when she does actually become a vampire. I really liked how mysteries this one is, just how sweet they are together. The fact that her 10th Pl. is what it is, for the reason it is, is something that is incredibly sweet to me.  anyways, I loved seeing all of the little snippets in to how they met, and everything like that. but I really honestly just love how sort of vague it is? If that makes sense? Like there are so many possibilities that your mind is running for miles after you read it. It’s one of those stories that you just keep thinking about, you keep thinking about what the other eight places were, what’s going to happen in the future it’s really awesome. The sequel is even wilder lol.

Thirsty by @jobean12-blog ***

So this one is a short yet sexy little Drabble. It’s technically a vampire Bucky, though it’s not necessarily like a main focus of the story. But I really liked it so I’m going to include it anyway. This one is just you know really cute. It shows the fun little feisty side to them, it’s pretty sexy, some dirty talk that’s like....damn lol. But I really just like stories that show couples are kind of so obsessed with each other, and so in love with each other, that they’re able to have fun in that way no matter where they are. I really liked it 

Craving You by @propertyofpoeandbucky ***

So this one is really cool, this one is about vampire Bucky and succubus reader. It is a compilation of little drabbles, and it’s really interesting. So I love seeing the dynamic between the two of them, just how interesting it is to see how they deal with their lifestyles, and having to do it together. And stuff happens that they have to navigate how they’re going to deal with it. I don’t wanna spoil it but it something that is very interesting to see. It’s also kinda smutty so that’s nice hahaha. Just a really cute, really interesting story

Blood Bound by @the-omni-princess ***

Ohhhhhh man! Now this one! This one is like a TV series I swear, like vampire diaries but a lot better. So this one is about vampire Bucky and a witch reader. And it is so freaking good, and so interesting. So currently is on hiatus, but I thought it was awesome enough to put it in there anyways. Because it doesn’t matter how much of it there is, what there is is amazing. It is like so nailbiting, there’s so many twists and turns and angst, but it’s also incredibly cute. i’ve never read a story like this, and I’m not sure if anybody else could do it like this. And I love how the soulmate idea is interwoven in there, I’m a sucker for soulmates. Honestly it’s like every trope that I love is somehow in this story, but it’s not overwhelming, it’s just really well done. In the world that’s created is so immersive and awesome

In the Dark by @persephone-is-here-omg​

All right, I really like this one too. I think my favorite part about this one is the fact that it relates Canon Bucky to vampire but you. It talks about how Hydra made him a vampire and the torture that he went through because he was a vampire. I really like how it didn’t completely get rid of his story, it wasn’t fully an AU, and that’s so interesting and cool to me man. And I also thought it was interesting seeing all the small little snippet into their relationship. It’s interesting to see EV juxtaposition of how she willingly gives up everything for him, but he got that stuff stolen from hydra. It’s just a really interesting story

Sunshine by @iwillbeinmynest ***

​Alright so this one was amazing. This one is about vampire Bucky, and it’s honestly pretty sad, at the beginning he had basically resigned himself to live a life in the cold. However he needs the reader who somehow can make him feel warm. And that was honestly the cutest part of the story, just how much he loved feeling warm, and she made him feel warm in so many different ways both physically and emotionally and it was so soft. But don’t let that trick you into thinking that this is just a soft story, there are absolutely some crazy things happening in the story. And I absolutely love Tony in this, I think it’s a great representation of him. Such a really awesome story

Men of the Moon by @hellomissmabel

So this one is really cool. It is a vampire diaries a you. It’s also kind of a Stucky x reader but not a Stucky fic if that makes sense? Like Bucky x reader and Steve x reader but no throuple. Obviously, that would be weird because they’re brothers lol. Anyways, now that I just rambled through that. I really love this. I think that all of the characters fit into the vampire diaries characters very well. I’ve honestly never liked vampire diaries, but this made me really like it LOL. I think it was done so much better than the actual show was, why couldn’t the show be like this. anyways, it was just so interesting to read the dynamic between the three characters, and everyone else really. I also loved just how invade the ending was, it’s like I can imagine so many different things happening after it and that’s always something that’s really nice with the story when I can kind of finish it myself.

Hungry Eyes by @lenavonschweetz ***

OHHHHHH this one is SPICY lol. Bucky is one cocky son of a gun. So this one is about vampire Bucky, and for the betterment of the town, him and the reader make a pact that he would feed off of her to avoid suspicion. Except for he would only feed on her wrist because anything else is too intimate. Well that went out the drain real fast. This one was honestly kind of just straight smut lol, but there’s some plot in there that’s really awesome. There’s some awesome tropes, friends to lovers, cocky Bucky, vampire Bucky, SMUT. It all comes together to form a really interesting really well done story. I really liked it  

In the Dark by @waiting4inspiration ***

Oh man, so this one is really interesting too. So this one is about vampire Bucky and werewolf reader, and the reader is an arranged marriage with werewolf Steve. There is a sort of creature war between vampires and werewolves, and that leads to a bunch of problems. But surprise surprise, the reader falls in love with her sworn enemy. And that’s awesome, I love those tropes. I think it’s Really incredible just how well she balances the two worlds, it’s way better than twilight I’ll tell you that right now LOL. But I just really love the dynamic between everybody, there’s angst, there’s fluff, there’s never a time when you’re bored. It’s just left and write something that either leaves you on your toes you’re feeling everything at once. It’s really great. It’s not finished yet but what it’s there is amazing.  

Special: For Heavens Sake by @221bshrlocked​ ***

wow OK, talk about unique. So this one is a vampire reader story, but it was so cool I have to include it. So obviously it’s vampire story obviously, but it also an ABO story, like whaaaaat. So ABO is admittedly the main aspect of a story, but I just thought it was absolutely incredible how well they combined the two tropes. I loved how oh much fuck he was actively trying to be with her, I really love the dynamic between them. I really loved how raw and genuine emotions are, I can’t imagine how scared them both must have been during certain parts of the story, I’m not gonna spoil it but there were definitely some parts where I was on the edge of my seat wondering what was gonna happen because it was so interesting. There was so much happening in the story and it was just awesome.

Thank you all for reading, again, sorry its so short. and sorry it took so long lol. I appreciate you all. :)

#vampire!bucky #vampire!bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barns imagine #ficrecs #fic recs #searchingforbucky

[nodesiretogrowup]

alrighty, review time!

Do you think Donald wrote the song? He did write a song when he was younger and the lyrics fit him best

I love that Donald is the sane man of the Caballeros

Why did you choose the bathroom? That’s really weird and kind of perverted

I love the picture of a rubber ducky in a top hat on the wall

Just how big is that bathtub? Four grown men were able to fit in it at the same time

Never mess with a man who has a demon-ghost butler

“That’s the FOURTH rich guy’s bathroom we’ve been kicked out of.” I...I would like to know about the other three. And again, WHY THE BATHROOM?!

“We just need someone to listen to us!” Donald giving us the theme/moral of the episode

Was Louie just waiting out there?

Louie looks like a drug dealer. He also looks a bit like the reboot version of himself from that poster in Quack Pack

“And you’re willing to do whatever I say, at any cost whatsoever?” “Well, not any...” “QUIET, DONALD!” Guys, you should listen to Donald, he knows Louie better than you

Poor Donald, the only sane man here

I love the stickers on Louie’s laptop. I wonder if he actually knows how to hack

I love the stupid “it” trends. Hats-Hats and Invisible Piercings, what will they think of next

Of course Dewey would keep up with an IT list. He actually cares about his image/how his peers view him

The lead singer of the Feather Weights looks like a punk girl version of Drake. I’m gonna go with them being related somehow. Or they used to date. Or they go to the same hair stylist. THEY ARE TIED TOGETHER SOMEHOW

Yo-yo tricks were more of a 2000s thing, Dewey (seriously though, does anyone else remember when yo-yos were SUPER POPULAR for some reason?)

Panchito is so ridiculously EXTRA and I LOVE HIM

“These are my people.” Oh sweet Dewford, they wish they were on your level

“Internet fame-the most important fame of all” Well it’s the most achievable

And then Dewey just rolls off screen

“If only someone had a super-elaborate scheme to get in...KA-BOOM!” Dewey’s not the only showman in the family

This show LOVES some big boards

Why/when did Louie plan all of this? I mean he did want the Caballeros to make him their manager so he could get a cut, but why?

Already you can see that Louie’s pride is gonna get in the way

Again, Donald is being the responsible one

I love their signatures. Panchito’s is like a 12 year old girl’s, José’s is curvy, and Donald’s is the least showy. And I love that Panchito thought “Don” was enough lol. He is close to Launchpad levels of ditziness

The pictures Louie uses on his board are GREAT! I love fridge-raiding Panchito

Agent Dewey-License to Chill. Dewey, that was two episodes ago

“I have a very special job for you.” “Oh-ho ho-ho, special.”

Luis P Canard. Is that a false identity Louie already had or did he make it up for the party? Or is there an actual Luis P Canard?

Huey looks SO CUTE! Though he should have known something was up when Louie asked him to forge a signature. Do you think Huey has forged other documents with or without knowing it?

Louie looks good with that black “lipstick”

“Welcome to the scheme.” “What scheme?” “Nothing.” “TELL NO ONE.”

Gyro Gearloose-Kid inventor. Does that mean he was a child prodigy or that he LITERALLY invents kids? Or both? The possible clone’s tube had K.I.D. on it. I bet this will be explored more, probably next episode

I love how they all stare at the earpieces when Gyro says the DEFINITELY won’t explode 

I love that the lion statues have sunglasses and there’s a statue of a ballerina hippo from Fantasia

OUR QUEEN HAS ARRIVED

How do ducks whistle if they don’t have lips?

Daisy-smiles, Donald-I WOULD DIE FOR YOU

I love Daisy’s fake laugh

With both of them in tuxes you can really see that Dewey and Louie have different body types. Louie has broader shoulders.

“I’M GONNA DANCE DOWN THE RED CARPET.” No Dewey, that’s for the after party

It’s the PEP guy! I feel like he’s gonna become a villain with how much he’s been embarrassed (and he already LOOKS like a cheesy superhero show villain)

GRAVES IS BACK, BABY

Dewey has made a LOT of enemies

“New plan-Dewey is NOT going to the party!” DAMN, THAT’S COLD

“This is the Dewey-est party in town!”

“Oh, WHY was I cursed to be so FLASHY and UNFORGETTABLE?!” I love my dramatic son

Why did the Caballeros have to switch hats?

“SO TIGHT. !”

WE NEED MORE DJ DAFT DUCK

Ok, real talk? That party looks boring as fuck 

I like that there’s sweat when Dewey pulls off his helmet. It’s the little details

“Everyone listens to my plan.” Dewey looks PISSED

“The plan to wow Glamour with our haunting melodies.” Panchito is Drake/DW if he was a Latin Lover. THEY NEED TO MEET. IT WOULD BE HAMMY AND GLORIOUS

“You mean our SICK dance beats!”

Donald is like “girls, girls, you’re BOTH pretty”

But seriously, they need to decide what direction they want to go with their sound

Donald is ALWAYS the voice of reason (except in The Town Where Everyone Was Nice, he got a bit caught up in that lie)

“I will charm my way on stage with my golden voice.” #youtried

That smirk José gives him, beautiful

“Easy, grownups.” YOU JUST GOT DISSED BY A 10 YEAR OLD!

“So I’ll dazzly Daisy with my hip, cool yo-yo tricks.” I would have liked to see how that played out

Does Louie have some kind of dirt on Jane? Why does she keep helping him out? Why does she call him “Mr. Duck?”

Glamour is a BITCH. And it seems like Daisy might share the same luck as Donald and Della

SERIOUSLY, WHAT DO YOU HAVE ON HER, LOUIE?!

Donald was posing all cool

Why send Donald in to do the most important part of the plan? At least have someone with him. Louie should have gone with him so Donald could distract Daisy and Louie could use his pickpocket skills to get the pass. Louie did not account for the variables

“Ooooh PHOOEY.” I love that all of the Duck family say Donald’s catchphrase

POOR DEWEY!

I love Louie’s other distraction ideas-explosion, food poisoning, SET FREE A WILD MONGOOSE, ghosts, ANOTHER explosion 

LET DAISY SAY FUCK

I’m pretty sure Donald got a boner when he saw Daisy DESTROY that vase (I also found it hot). He was scaroused

OUCH. That HAD to have hurt/broken SOMETHING

How did Louie get that picture of Webby? Hell, how was that pic taken in the first place?

“WHEEEEEEE” Webby knows what’s up

“MY FAULT! It’s...your bag.” Oh Donald

LET DAISY SAY FUCK

“My band is sorta...crashing the party.” DONALD YOU ARE TOO CUTE

The yo-yo just rolls away

Louie, you hurt Dewey’s feelings! Also, your plans are pretty ridiculous too, including the one you are currently trying to pull off. There had to be a better idea than a harpy

Listy-er

GLAMOUR MUST DIE FOR WHAT SHE DID TO LOUIE! IT’S A GOOD THING DONALD WASN’T THERE OR ELSE SHE WOULD BE

“I don’t want to be at Funzo’s forever.” “Why not?” Oh Webby, so innocent to the horrors of minimum wage jobs. Also it’s nice to see Webby being able to have an ordinary conversation with someone

FALCON’S EYEBROWS ARE MESMERIZING

It’s equal parts cute and sad how long Dewey takes to count

MANNY IS FUCKING SWOLE

Manny is 0 for 2 when it comes to being the muscle (I’m counting him vs Mega-Beaks as well)

“That was odd.” You have no idea

Donald sees Daisy as the GODDESS she is. GET YOU A MAN LIKE DONALD

I KNEW IT! I KNEW SHE WANTED TO BE A FASHION DESIGNER! It was like the only guess I got right so let me have this

“Nobody listens to me either.” Awww

“They don’t understand me.” AWWW

“Well that’s weird, I understand you perfectly.” MY HEART!!!

I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH! And when it changes into how Daisy hears him...chef’s kisses. It reminded me of Remember Me from Coco and I Love You Too Much from Book of Life

Real talk-the song really got me. I feel a lot like Donald. A lot of times it feels like no one is listening or understands me because my thought process is a bit different. Or they can understand but they don’t care, like how Daisy feels. When Donald sings for her, I teared up because I want to be comfortable enough with someone to let down my guard like that. Music is a big part of who I am so I would love if someone sang for me even if they don’t have the “perfect” voice. I want someone to feel comfortable enough with me to let down their guard and be real

Daisy is a woman of ACTION

Do you think she’s been stuck in that elevator before?

“My kids!” “Wait, you have kids?” Whenever Donald calls them his kids I gain 5 years to my lifespan. I can’t wait for Daisy to officially meet the kids

“Oh no, not again!” Starting to rethink your life-choices aren’t ya?

I love Mark. He’s so stupid and out of touch with the real world

“Oh Gravesy! Long time, no crime.” GRAVEBEAK LIVES ON!

I love Mark’s hoverboard crashing and catching fire in the background. And then it chases Slash

Haha, Mark’s name is Markus. What a dewb

I was rooting for rich lesbian aunt, but mom works too

Graves is SO DONE with these people

Dewey is all of us

Poor Louie. His self confidence is the most fragile of the kids

Nerp

“Just listen to me for once.” WE ALL NEED TO LISTEN TO EACH OTHER, THAT’S THE THEME OF THE EPISODE

THEY’RE HOLDING HANDS! And Mark seemed into it ;)

“I want to look away but I can’t” CALLING IT NOW, THIS LINE’S GONNA BE A MEME

I want Dewey’s yo-yo skills to be a reoccurring thing

That’s one of the things he has in common with his uncle-being a performer even if they aren’t the best at it

Louie’s face as he sneaks away is great

“The failure of it is ridiculous...and BEAUTIFUL!” Gonna use that to describe myself from now on

Dewey is IT. SO FABULOUS!

Daisy, maybe you should let the man get rid of them

DOUBLE BADASS ONE-LINERS

LET DONALD SAY FUCK

HE’S SO PROUD OF HIS BOY

I like the “totally not Pirates of the Caribbean” music that accompanies José when he’s fighting

“Nice singing.” “Nice moves.” NOW KISS

“Oo, nice dagger.” Webby, not the time for that

There is NO WAY that the scene with Gabby and Webby isn’t foreshadowing SOMETHING

“I gotta get out of Duckburg.” Jane starts a GoFundMe page to get out of Duckburg when she gets home

BATTLE COUPLE!

DAISY WILL FUCK YOU UP

DON’T MESS WITH HER MAN

It was then Donald realized that he had met his future wife

DONALD AIN’T GONNA TAKE THAT SHIT FROM YOU

It was then Daisy realized she had met her future husband

“LOVE YOUR BLOG” Who knew Manny kept on on the latest trends

Glamour probably realized those fuckers were crazy so she should back off

SILENT M’MA CABRERA!

OMG EVEN THE TREE HAS FUCKING SUNGLASSES

Manny is one suave motherfucker

Glamour playing with the yo-yo while Mark acts like a spoiled brat

DEWEY IS PROUD OF HIS DADNALD!

IF WE DON’T GET DEWEY’S DOZEN AT SOME POINT I’M SUING

“Our brotherhood is the greatest scheme of all!” SO FUCKING WHOLESOME! MORE LOUIE AND DEWEY PLOTS

“HEY, YOU’RE MESSING WITH MY MOJO!” Don’t be a hater, Manny!

“I could listen to it all night.” DAAAAAWWWWWWW

GAAAAAAHHHHH THIS EPISODE WAS SO GOOD! I love that there was a common theme of feeling like you aren’t being heard. Daisy felt like she was too unimportant to be listened to, Louie doesn’t listen to Dewey because he feels like Dewey isn’t serious enough, and NO ONE listens to Donald because his voice is hard to understand. In the end they all get heard, with Donald and Daisy getting the bonus of finding someone who understands them. The two of them really are relationship goals. I cannot WAIT for more wholesome Donisy content. This one bumped Quack Pack down from my favorite so far.

#ducktales #dt spoilers

[damienthepious]

ah shit we broke 50k on this beast. happy Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday

Scattered on my Shore (Chapter 12)

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Ch 9] [Ch 10] [Ch 11] [ao3] [Ch 13] [Ch 14] [Ch 15] [Ch 16] [Ch 17] [Ch 18] [Ch 19]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Sir Damien

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Pre-Relationship, (for the three of them. it’s established r/d), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, (this will also be), Enemies to Lovers, (for damien and arum eventually lol)

Fic Summary: Strange things wash up out of the lake near Rilla’s hut, on occasion. But this monster… this monster is certainly the strangest.

Chapter Summary: Damien and Arum, Arum and Damien, and Rilla- Rilla is having a difficult evening.

Chapter Notes: Yesterday was the one year anniversary of the day I first started writing Penumbra fic. Oh, how time flies. Oof. Also. Hm. I've been mentally calling this the emotional whiplash chapter. Be gentle with yourself? Warnings for blood, violence, fighting, canon-typical deception, canon-typical monstrous horrors and canon-typical monster-horror deaths, including some upsetting imagery that I wrote at like two a m and then was a little perturbed by the next morning. Uh. I think that's everything? I swear this fic is soft sometimes.

~

Rilla still tastes sticky pink at the back of her sinuses, reeking strange but somehow vaguely sweet, and Tal's voice calls out through the jungle. Tal's voice is not the only noise, though. There is crashing, tree limbs cracking, shouting and roaring and rattling that makes Rilla's stomach twist with familiarity she doesn't want to place.

She clings to Marc's shoulders as Dampierre runs them towards his brother's voice. She catalogs symptoms, catalogs coincidences in the back of her mind, and she hopes that the twinge of instinctive terror in her gut is wrong.

~

Time sighs past them, tortuously slow, and Arum is beginning to suspect that the knight is deliberately attempting to drive him out of his skull. Eventually Arum's thin patience snaps, and he sits up straight in the bed, tail thrashing as he scowls.

"Must you do that?"

Damien doesn't seem to hear him. He paces in a tight circle on the other side of the room, seemingly unaware of the book still clutched tightly in his hands, unaware that his knuckles are going pale with that tightness. "Saint Damien above, please," he murmurs to himself, for perhaps the eighteenth time, "oh I cannot lose her, I cannot- how can I remain here, still and unharmed while she flies towards danger with a smile, my Saint? How can I endure the torturous burden of safety while my beloved could be in any peril, any peril at all? Perils unknown! Perils unknowable, teeming in the dark of night, and with my forever-flower accompanied by so untrustworthy a companion-"

"Songbird, honestly, the squawking-"

"The Salamander, of all companions, and I must remain behind, must either leave her unprotected- or precariously protected, at the very best, or else I shall break my word to her! To act otherwise would be to break not only the bond of my word, but to break her heart in the same moment-"

Arum barks a laugh. "Oh please, honeysuckle. I do not think Amaryllis' heart is quite so fragile as that." He snorts. "Not quite so fragile as yours, that is, always aching and cracking within you."

Damien pauses his pacing, then shoots the monster a scathing look. "What business have you, beast, in discussing either of our hearts?"

"You certainly won't shut up about it in earshot," Arum growls. "Forgive me for misconstruing a conversation out of your ceaseless heartsick blather."

"I would not expect a monster to understand the value of prayer, Lord Arum," Damien says through his teeth. "Nor the ache of love."

Arum opens his mouth, meaning give a biting retort, and then he remembers Amarayllis' eyes, and how soft they were when she asked-

He closes his mouth again, sighing, and Damien eyes him suspiciously for a few moments before he resumes his pacing, resumes his muttering.

The poet's heart speeds again as the minutes continue to pass, his breaths growing more shallow. Arum does not know what else he is meant to focus on, besides Sir Damien slowly twisting himself to pieces. His words are running so fast that they have begun to bleed together, almost too panicked for Arum to parse into individual thoughts, and when Damien chokes on a breath and his eyes go bright Arum cannot keep his mouth closed another moment longer.

"You are not helping, Damien," he says, and the knight turns towards him, his lips curling in something that could have been a scowl, if he did not look so otherwise distressed. "If your prayer has value, so be it, but it does not appear that it is doing anything at this moment beside causing you to pull your own feathers out. Stop- stop thrashing about and find another thought to worry on. Threaten me again. That certainly seemed to amuse you, before."

Damien startles, oddly, somewhere in the middle of Arum's words, and then he goes still. "I…" he pauses, coughs. "I suppose… I suppose I have been- twisting and drowning in the mire of this misery for far too long," he mutters, pressing his hand over his mouth. "Tranquility is… so terribly far from me, this night," he says, even more quietly, more to himself than anything.

"Amaryllis is clever and ferocious. I very much doubt she would bolt off in foolishness at the risk of her own neck. Do you imagine that she would wish for you to drive the both of us to madness in your worry? If your words are not helping, find other words, or other action. Do something useful, honeysuckle. If you continue as you are, you will simply distress yourself further." He pauses. "And continue to give me a headache."

"Something useful," Damien echoes, his gaze distant. "What … I cannot compose in this state. I cannot- I do not know what to do. I am…"

Enough tension pulls at the poet's frame that he looks as if he may crack in two.

Arum sighs. "Here," he says quietly. "Give me that book, at least. Before you go ahead and snap its spine in your little talons."

Damien looks at his own hands, then, as if he had forgotten that they existed entirely, his grip on the book finally loosening. "Ah-"

"Amaryllis was going to share the notes with me anyway. I may as well begin work on my translation. Perhaps I can have a page or two to share with her when she returns."

"When she returns," Damien whispers. "When she returns. Yes. Of course, when she-" he shudders out a breath, and then he steps close enough to Arum to pass the journal to him.

The leather of the binding feels warm from Damien's hands, and Arum brushes his thumb over the label on the cover, written in Amaryllis' impatient but neat scrawl. "Excellent," he says, because he does not wish to say thank you. "Now, perhaps you should check the food, as she asked, honeysuckle. Perhaps it will be easier to calm yourself if you have a moment where you need not share the room with so foul a beast as I."

Damien opens his mouth, his cheeks darkening, and then he snaps his jaw shut again, looking away. "The food. Yes," he murmurs, and then the poet retreats.

When Damien leaves the room Arum leans back, sighing and allowing himself his own moment of worry.

A couple hours. Amaryllis is- Arum's words were in no way false, she is both clever and ferocious, and he does not know this other human she has gone into the wilds with, but he cannot imagine that she would trust her protection to someone unworthy of that honor. This is her home. Certainly she knows the territory that surrounds it. Certainly she will be in no danger at all.

Certainly.

He composes himself before Damien returns with their meal, and Damien is tense and stiff but he finishes his bowl without another muttering collapse, which Arum is learning is as close to a success as he is likely to manage. He resumes his translation, then, poring over the thin botanical tome and trying not to notice as Damien's heart gradually begins to race again.

The poet straightens, suddenly, standing from his lean against the counter, and then without a word he goes back out to the front room again, leaving Arum watching his back in alarm. When he returns he is clutching what appears to be- his bow, his armor, his quiver and packs and all manner of miscellany. Damien crouches to drop the lot of it on the floor, somewhat close to Arum's bed, and then he sinks to sit beside the pile, pulling his bow out first and examining it with keen, narrowed eyes.

"What are you up to now, honeysuckle?" Arum asks, lowering the books in his hands.

"Something useful, I hope," Damien warbles in response. "I have been meaning to restring my bow for weeks, now. I cannot do much else, at the moment, so I may as well perform the tasks I have been delaying in favor of more pressing matters, as I am being currently pressed to stillness instead."

Arum certainly cannot complain about that. Damien's expression has gone focused, poised, as he carefully and skillfully bends his bow into the proper position for him to remove the current (apparently unsatisfactory) string. Arum eyes the rest of the pile curiously, observing the well-battered armor, the quiver which looks both old and loved, patched with many careful mendings.

Arum narrows his eyes at the rest of Damien's packs as the knight carefully begins the process of restringing his bow, and a small plain leather sheath catches his attention. He reaches with his tail to pull it out from the rest, lifting it to take into his hands, setting Amaryllis' book and its translation aside on the sheets for a moment.

"Hrm…" Arum notes that this leather is vaguely tattered, but not mended with care as the quiver is. He slips the knife out, and Damien turns towards him and tenses at the edge of his vision but Arum is far too distracted to care because- "Honeysuckle, have you no respect at all for your weaponry? I understand that you favor your bow but-" he turns the blade in the light, noting the dullness of the edge, the light speckling of rust across the metal. "This is a travesty. It is dull as a branch and it looks as if it went swimming with you. You would be more likely to harm yourself with this mistreated thing than any enemy." He growls low, scraping his claw along the edge of the blade, bringing it closer to his snout to inspect more closely, clicking his tongue in disappointment. "Careless. Negligent. You must have a whetstone somewhere, oils and the like, honeysuckle. Bring them here this instant and I will give this little blade the care it has been denied."

Arum continues to turn the blade close in front of his eye, and it takes him a long moment to realize that Damien has not moved. Arum blinks, shaking his head, and then he looks over the metal and Damien meets his eye, his seated stance tense, his hands on his bow gone slack and his eyes bright with worry and with- something else Arum cannot interpret.

Arum frowns, unsure for a long moment precisely what the issue is, before he realizes-

A knife in his hands. An armed monster, and a knight with his bow unstrung.

Of course.

Arum looks away from Damien, his breath rattling in discomfort, and his hands flex against the hilt of the blade. He inhales around the strange weight in his chest, and then he hisses the breath back out through his teeth. "Don't be foolish, honeysuckle," he manages in a growl. "What could I do with this wretched knife that I could not do with my claws already? If I wanted to hurt you, there would be cleverer ways than this. Bring me the tools. I do not care to watch you oil and polish and spoil your favored toy over there while this little edge remains in disrepair. Besides," he gives a short, stilted laugh, "a dull knife is far, far more dangerous than the alternative. I will protect you from your own negligence, have no fear."

Arum does not look back towards Damien, so he does not see whatever expression it is that the poet wears as he stares for another long moment. He manages not to look when he hears Damien rise to stand, as well, though when the knight leaves the room he cannot keep his shoulders from sagging.

Damien does not have the first clue what Arum is capable of, with any sort of blade. Damien does not have the first clue what Arum is capable of at all. But obviously, obviously the knight's instincts are sound. He is more correct than even he knows.

Damien returns, and without a word he hands Arum the requested tools, and then he goes to resume his own tasks.

Without a word, Arum turns the blade in his hands, and then he begins the slow, gentle work of restoring it to its proper sharpness, and shine.

 ~

The false Rattlepanther is a puddle of melted spores behind them, and Dampierre bursts out from a tangle of bramble and glossy leaves. Their entrance into the clearing scatters the thick pink mist enough that Rilla sees the source of the noises immediately, the shouting, the fighting-

Damien and Arum, trying to kill each other in the mud, just beneath the enormous thumping threat of the Numb-Cap.

They're both bloody already. The bandages on Arum's midsection are soaked through with red beneath the dirty brown, his frill is worse off, even, than it had been when she found him in the first place, and Damien- Damien's arms are totally sliced up, obvious claw wounds, and there is a similar gash across one cheek, too, bleeding brightly over his chin and down his neck as they grapple with each other, their legs caught tight together in the sticky grip of a writhing pink slime mold beneath them.

"Damien! Damien stop-"

They do not pull away from each other, but both of them glance towards her for a moment as she leaps down from the saddle, Arum with his teeth bared and bloody, Damien with his eyes flat and hard and blank.

"Of course," Damien says in a cold murmur. "Of course. I begin to doubt and- and you, my precious flower, you come like dawn to show me my true path. To remind me of my duty. This creature has twisted your mind, has pulled your heart from me-"

Her heart plunges like a stone, actually, at the accusation. "Damien, that's not-"

"Has upset the order of our very lives. It is for you, my love, that I must kill this monster. I must slay this beast."

"If you even can, you boasting little fool-"

"Don't! Stop! Just- don't do anything, I'm coming over there and-"

"Rilla, wait-" Marc grabs her shoulder, and Rilla fights back an urge to smack him. "Remember how it was with Talfryn. They're knee-deep in slime, and for all we know they could be more of those spore illusion things, right?"

"I-" Rilla looks back towards them, and then she meets Marc's eyes. "I don't know. I don't know if- I don't know why they would-"

"If you go over there you're gonna get stuck in it too," he says, and Rilla grits her teeth together tight.

"If they're real they're going to kill each other!"

Marc's brow furrows, but he shakes his head. "So what do we do, then? Maybe we can pull Damien out, but that monster's not gonna make it easy, and we gotta do that without getting sucked in in the meantime."

"I know, I know," Rilla chokes, her mind spinning in helpless circles as Damien and Arum fight. "I just- I'm thinking, I'll-"

"Do you think they're real?" Marc presses, squeezing her shoulder, and Rilla looks up at him for a moment before she looks back towards the grappling pair. "Talfryn- those things he said. All of that- it was on my mind today. Would Damien fighting a monster like this, would that have been on your mind today? Or- is there any chance Damien would even be out here?"

She and Marc have been turned around enough- Rilla doesn't even know how far they are from the hut, anymore. Could Damien and Arum actually be out here? Is that possible? Rilla doesn't have a clue. Possible or not, though-

Real or not. Rilla's heart is pounding and pounding and pounding. Louder than the Numb-Cap. Twice as fast, too. Damien and Arum trying to kill each other- would they? Would they really, or is Rilla just so scared, does the idea hurt her so much-

Arum isn't evil. Arum wouldn't hurt her. She knows that. She's been hoping that Arum not hurting her would extend to Damien, too, but- but Damien still thinks-

Rilla can't even tell who's winning. Damien's bowstring is snapped, it looks like he's just trying to stab Arum with one of his arrows instead, and Arum is holding him back from completing the strike with two clawed hands digging into his wrists, his other hands swiping towards Damien's stomach.

"Stop!" Marc's hand on her shoulder is the only thing that keeps her from bolting towards him. "Saints- stop it! Stop fighting! You're going to kill each other-"

"I will slay this beast," Damien snarls, his muscles straining as he twists, barely avoiding the claws and barely having his own strike held off. "I must do my duty-"

"Get on with it, then, honeysuckle," Arum snarls, claws drawing blood at his wrists, and Damien cries out-

"Arum!"

"I told you, Amaryllis. I warned you that you would not be able to collar him-"

"Be silent, beast," Damien shouts, wrenching his arms back from Arum's resisting hands, "and die-"

Damien's hands bring the arrow down, and Arum's hands swing his claws up-

And Rilla isn't even sure which terrifies her more.

Damien plunges the arrow into Arum's shoulder and he gives a pained, gasping snarl that stretches into almost a howl, and at the same moment Arum's claws find Damien's ribs, making him scream.

Rilla could scream too. She can- she knows- the angle of the arrow, the depth of Arum's claws, she can still fix them, both of them, she can still make this okay if she can get them away from each other-

If they're real.

Arum digs his claws in, twisting his wrists. Damien shouts, and grits his teeth, and pushes the arrow deeper, and behind them, the Numb-Cap beats like a giant exposed heart.

Rilla takes a breath. She digs her hand into the satchels at her belt.

"Step back, Dampierre," she says, and as the horse moves she moves with him, until they are just barely far enough, and then she throws the explosive.

It catches quickly. The slime mold races with fire as if it is soaked with oil, and the fighting figures are caught within it, so-

They burn beneath the mushroom, screaming and writhing, and Arum does not pull his claws from Damien, and Damien does not release his grip on the arrow. Not even when the both of them melt and pop into a flurry of burning spores, as the Numb-Cap's horrible beating heart finally scorches out.

Death grip, Rilla thinks grimly, and then she leans heavy against Dampierre.

She guessed right. It wasn't them. She didn't kill them.

The light of the flames is still burnt into the back of her eyes, two twisting silhouettes, intertwined.

She guessed right.

That doesn't make her feel better. Not at all.

~

"There," Arum says softly, and Damien, who has long since finished with his bow and has now resorted to rearranging the entire contents of his traveling packs, looks up.

"There?"

"It has been treated as well as possible, with the tools provided. I hope it shall not be so neglected again."

He holds the knife out between them, then, hilt first, and Damien-

Damien stands, slowly, and steps close enough to reach out and take the blade back.

Arum drops his hand and his gaze once the knife is in Damien's hands. Damien lifts it closer, inspecting, and-

It is beautiful. Arum even polished the hilt, even cleaned the grit from the engravings. Damien can see the surprise in his own eyes reflected in the new shine of the metal, and he can tell when he tests it against his thumb that it is sharper, perhaps, than it has ever been.

"It is nearly as sharp and dangerous as I am, now," Arum hisses low with a flick of the tongue, and something about his tone coils in Damien's stomach, and his breath catches and his fingers twitch and-

"Ah!"

Damien only barely manages not to drop the blade, though he has run the curved tip across his palm, below his thumb, pulling open a shallow red line.

"Honeysuckle-" Arum sits up straighter, his tongue darting in the air again, and then his brow furrows deep. "Foolish creature. I sharpened it. Did you not think it would then be sharp? "

"My- my hand slipped, Arum, I assure you it was not some intentional testing of your word. Ah, ah-"

Arum slips from the sheets, rolling unsteadily to his feet. "Let me see- ah, not too terribly deep, then." He reaches a hand out, taking the blade back, and then he pushes Damien so that he stumbles to sit on the bed instead. Damien makes an instinctive noise in protest, but Arum narrows his eyes sternly. "Sit, you delicate little songbird." He turns away then, limping to the counter and then reaching to rummage through the cabinets, grumbling to himself as he goes.

"Arum, I-"

"Hush. I have seen the doctor work enough that I believe I can manage so small a wound as this." He returns with disinfectant and a roll of bandages, and when Damien opens his mouth to protest again he scowls. "I should certainly love to see you attempt to apply all of this one handed, honeysuckle. It was my efforts that you managed to damage yourself upon, allow me to fix it so you may not lay this blame on me as well."

Damien feels his cheeks darkening as Arum kneels heavily beside the bed, and then he takes Damien's hands in his own with an inarguable sort of gentleness, turning his palm upwards and hissing low. His eyes glitter as he examines the injury, as he begins to treat it.

Lord Arum does not work with the same smiling sort of care that his Rilla does, but he is efficient and attentive, even as he growls under his breath. When he slices through the bandage with a claw to separate it from the roll, Damien's pulse jumps oddly, his breath catching, and Arum meets his eye for a moment.

"Careless little honeysuckle," he murmurs as he finishes the wrapping. Then he draws his claws over the white of the bandages on Damien’s palm with a delicacy that makes Damien's skin race with something that feels like lightning. "If I did not know any better, I would think you were trying to have your petals plucked…"

Damien feels heat rush through him like a furnace door thrown open at his back, his hand flexing in Arum's grasp. "I… Lord Arum, I…" he pauses, and Arum's eyes are so vivid, so strange. "Th-thank you."

Arum blinks, and then his vivid eyes drop. He releases Damien's hand, then shifts to grip the bed so he can pull himself to stand. "Don't thank me," he mutters, his tone so entirely blank after the strange warmth that came before. "It was my sharpness that cut you. I was simply ensuring that you would have no evidence to throw in Amaryllis' face to push further towards my death, little knight."

The coldness of the words pushes Damien to stand, far more than Arum climbing back into the bed does.

"Arum-"

"What?" Arum is already curled onto his side atop the blankets, already turned away, but he shoots Damien an irritable look over his shoulder. “What, knight?”

Damien feels his mouth hanging open. His eyes draw slow along the strange, elegant curves of Arum's snout, his teeth, his horns, but he cannot find the right words.

The pause hangs too long, and Arum drops his eyes with a sigh, rolling to face away.

Damien feels his heart, thudding like a stranger at the door. He lifts his bandaged hand, cupping it to his chest, and he feels the wound pulse too, with each unceasing beat.

~

The jungle is darker, after all that fire, and there is a glass jar rattling heavy (in metaphorical weight) in Rilla's pocket, and Rilla has enough Numb-Cap to make Marc's medicine for years, now, and she's so tired that she feels like she could collapse. And Marc-

"So… Rilla… do you want to-"

"No."

"You didn't even let me finish!"

"You were gonna ask again if I wanna talk about it, and I don't, Marc."

"But, Rilla-"

Rilla scowls and starts walking faster, pulling ahead of Marc and Dampierre for a moment or two.

"Rilla! C'mon, don't- don't be like that. You can't honestly expect me not to be worried! That- that whole thing-"

"We handled it, Marc. It's done with."

"We did and don't get me wrong, any adventure with that many explosions is gonna wind up featured prominently in my memoirs, but seriously, what the hell was that?"

"A bunch of big, gross, mutated fungi with shitty magic metaphor powers," she gripes, but Marc pulls Dampierre in front of her, making her stumble to a scowling stop. "Marc. I want to go home, finish your pills, and go to sleep."

"You know that's not what I meant, Rilla." He stares down at her, his eyebrows furrowed with uncharacteristic gravity. "That fake-monster that fake-Damien was trying to kill. You called it by name, Rilla."

Rilla's muscles tense. She hadn't- she didn't realize that-

"If you're doing something dangerous- we're family, Rilla. I just want to know that you're safe, okay? It's been … things have been dangerous, lately. More dangerous than normal, I mean. The monsters have been pulling stuff like that fungus, you know? Stuff that gets in your head, uses your fears against you, turns you against each other, and I just- I know you won't take a break from your work, but I need to know that you're at least looking out for yourself."

"I'm looking out for myself, Marc," she grits out through her teeth, and then she pushes her way around Dampierre. They're close enough to the hut that she can see the light through the underbrush, and she just doesn't have the energy-

"I'm just- c'mon, I'm not being unfair here, I know I'm not," he says, trotting after her again. "Just tell me why you seemed just as freaked out about Damien hurting that lizard as you did about it going the other way, Rilla, because I just can't-"

She spins back, scowling. "Drop it, Marc!"

"Just give me something to go on, here! Give me something that lets me know you aren't doing something illegal and dangerous again, because right now I'm scared that the next time you get caught red handed, they're gonna skip the exile and go straight for execution!"

Rilla's breath catches. "I- I-"

"Rilla," Marc says. "Please. You know that I love you. You gotta talk to me, because if things have gone so wrong that I'm the one worrying about you? We're breaking the natural order of the universe, here. Water's gonna start flowing uphill next thing you know."

A laugh pushes past her panic, choking but sincere. She hesitates, then steps closer to Marc again, reaching a hand to rub Dampierre's ear as she meets Marc's eye.

"I love you too," she says, first, and then she sighs. "I wish I could explain, Marc, I really, really do, but- but I don't know how to. You just have to trust me. You have to trust that I know what I'm doing."

"You say that even when you don't know what you're doing, though," he points out, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well." She shakes her head. "This time I mean it, okay? Look, just- I didn't know for sure that they were fake when I burned them, Marc. I had a solid theory, but I didn't know, and I still did it because I knew it was the right thing to do. Because I knew Damien would rather burn than kill himself with guilt, and because I knew if I was wrong about A-" she stumbles. "About the monster, if he would hurt Damien or anyone else, it would be my fault. So- so I burned them."

"Rilla…"

"You have to trust me," she repeats. "I know that I'm right. That I'm doing the right thing. But- but if the evidence doesn't bear that out, I'll … I'll face those consequences. I'll deal with the situation. I'll fix it."

Marc's frown eases, just slightly, and after a moment he sighs, reaching out to pat the back of her hand. "Alright, Rilla. Okay. Just… be careful? And- and just- let me know, y’know? If you need help, if- if things get out of hand."

Rilla sighs, too tired to bristle properly at the suggestion that she might need help, and then she nods. "I know, Marc. I will. Now c'mon, we're almost there, and I still gotta make your medicine."

~

They hear Rilla come in through the closed exam room door, and she calls out very clearly to Marc through the outer door before they hear her pull the window open so she can continue to talk to him as she starts to mix her ingredients together.

It takes about an hour, all told, and Damien does not relax that entire time. From the way Arum keeps forgetting himself and growling low, from the way his tail continues to flick and thrash, neither does the monster. Eventually, though, Rilla passes some quiet words to Marc, and then she finally, finally closes the window again. Even through the door Damien can hear Rilla sigh so deeply it makes Damien's heart pull, her exhaustion a physical sort of pain within him.

Once he hears the hoofbeats fade away from the hut, Damien pulls the door of the exam room open and Rilla is already standing just outside, her legs muddy to the knee, her hair pulling from her braid and clouding around her, her eyes bright, and she looks at him and then over his shoulder at Arum and then her shoulders sag and her face splits with such relief that it looks as if it may crumple her.

Damien takes her into his arms instantly, without thought, guiding her back out into the front room. "Rilla, my dearest, my Amaryllis, you aren't hurt, are you?"

"No. I promise, I'm not, I just-"

"What happened?"

"Monster mushrooms, basically," she mumbles, shrugging, and Damien tries not to feel it like ice in his guts, his failure to protect her. "We- we dealt with it."

He inhales, exhales, prays for a silent moment, and then he asks, "And you are certain that you were not hurt?"

"I'm just-" her voice is too thick, but she gives a laugh through it, waving a hand in the air and pushing her hair out of her face. "Tired, that's all. I'm just- exhausted and covered in gross fungus slime and- and I've got about a thousand sticks caught in my hair, and- and- and I'm glad," she laughs again, a little wild. "I'm glad you didn't f-fight, while I was gone."

"Of course not," Damien says, as soft as he can manage, and then he pulls her closer, squeezing tight for just a moment before he spins, turning her as if they're dancing for only a breath. She chokes a surprised laugh against him as he gently maneuvers her to sit by the table, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "Now. I can help with at least one of your dilemmas, my love. Let me fetch a brush, and I will at least help you comb the jungle from your hair before we sleep."

She inhales a shaky breath, then nods. "Alright. I'm- I'm not gonna argue if you wanna- if you wanna spoil me a bit," she murmurs weakly.

"Always," he murmurs through a smile, "I always do." He kisses her temple again before he straightens to go fetch the comb.

When he returns, Arum is in the doorway of his room, peering out at the herbalist with obvious concern, leaning heavily on his crutch.

"You are- not injured?"

Rilla sighs, and that more than anything assures Damien that her exhaustion is no small thing. Ordinarily, she would at least scowl at having that question asked of her a third time.

"Merely weary, she assures me," Damien says, and Arum flicks his eyes towards the knight for a moment before he frowns, and then nods. The monster watches as Damien steps close again, sinking to sit behind Rilla so he may take the tie from her hair, and slowly begin to comb out the tangles, the leaves and- and bits of ash that seem to have stuck there.

She sighs again, deep and tired, leaning back into Damien's hands, and he slowly, soothingly, quietly combs out her hair. He's nearly forgotten Arum watching them by the time the monster slowly crosses the room, sinking to sit at the other end of the table, watching with suspicious, curious eyes. When Damien is finished, when he has managed the worst of the tangles and brushed out the soot and debris, he sighs, and then he starts to separate out the sections to pull her hair into a new braid, but-

"Ah. Hm."

His hand. The hurt is almost entirely dulled, by now, but the placement of the cut and the resulting placement of the bandages make it so he cannot quite bend his thumb in the way he needs to. Rilla glances over her shoulder, blinking at him muzzily, and then she finally seems to notice the injury herself, sucking in a startled breath.

"Damien, what- what happened? " She pulls his hand into her own, her thumbs gentle on his skin, and over her head Damien watches as Arum cringes, drawing his shoulders up towards his chin, clearly expecting-

"Simply a cut, love. I was going through my packs, and I was careless, and I cut myself. I assure you I am fine."

She frowns, and then she shoots him a look. "This bandaging is too neat. You didn't do this."

Brilliant, Damien thinks helplessly, his heart pooling with bright, sparking love. "No," he says. "It would have been too difficult, of course, with only the one hand. Lord Arum was… generous enough to assist."

Lord Arum hisses under his breath at the mention, his frill raising and his face turned decidedly away from the both of them, now, hidden by the folds.

"He was, huh?" Rilla says, and her amusement manages to push through the layer of exhaustion that hangs upon her. Amusement, and a clear note of fondness, as well. "Well…" she pauses, gently turning Damien's hand in her own, biting her lip. "I… my hands are a little… shaky, at the moment. Maybe he'd wanna be generous again, just for a second?"

Arum freezes, and then his frill presses to his neck and he glances towards the pair of them with a look of alarm.

"Wh- what do you mean? What do you want?"

Rilla ducks her head, and then she glances up at the monster and Damien knows what she means, even if Arum does not.

Damien feels, perhaps, that he should be… concerned, at the very least. Disgusted, perhaps. But…

"Do you… do you know how to braid, Lord Arum?" he asks, tilting his head, and Arum blinks, and then scowls.

"Of course I do. Don't ask foolish questions."

"Would you… perhaps… would you help me to braid Rilla's hair, again? With my hand…" Damien frowns gently at himself, and he fully expects the monster to snap, to laugh, to bolt.

Arum stares, his violet eyes wide and stunned, and then he drops his gaze, pulling his hands close to wring awkwardly in front of himself for a moment before he seems to become aware of what he is doing, and then without answering he- he crawls closer, bringing himself beside Damien and stubbornly not looking at Rilla as she smiles, breathing a soft laugh.

"Fine. Helpless little thing. Move aside, will you?"

Damien shifts, moving to sit beside Rilla instead, and then he gestures for Arum to take his place, and the monster does so with a graceless grumble. Rilla exhales, her eyes closing again as three of Arum's hands (the fourth, his broken wrist, apparently not quite dexterous enough for the task just yet) sink into Rilla's hair, parting and sectioning it off before he starts to weave an elegant braid slowly down.

Arum's shoulders are stiff, at first, but Rilla is quiet in front of him and the monster seems to ease into the pattern of the motions, eventually, and Damien is quiet as well as he watches, the movements of Arum's scaled hands almost hypnotic in their rhythmic consistency.

Rilla falls asleep before he is halfway done. Damien thinks that Arum notices that this has happened as well, considering the way that his motions grow slower and more careful as his claws carefully twine her hair together. When he reaches the last few inches, Damien passes him the little leather band for him to tie at the bottom of the braid. Damien tilts his head to better see the rippling whole of it, a complex and beautiful weave, even if it was only done with three of the monster's four hands. Damien is unsure if he could replicate it with only his two. He finds himself wondering what sorts of complexities they could create if he and Arum were both to…

Arum is staring at the braid as well, and he lifts a hand as if to drift it down the softness of Rilla's hair, but he stops himself just before he makes contact. He pulls his hand back to his chest, clutching the scales just over his heart, and Damien feels his own heart skip, oddly.

Arum glances towards him then, his tongue flicking.

"What… ah… she has-" he pauses, hissing a low, concerned noise. "Amaryllis is sleeping on my legs, honeysuckle. What- what- what do I do?"

Damien barely manages to muffle his laugh so that it does not bubble bright and loud. He does not wish to wake her, if he can help it, but it is- ridiculous, utterly absurd, for Lord Arum to be so thoroughly trapped merely because he does not wish to wake Rilla. Damien has some degree of practice in this arena, however.

"Just be still for one moment, Lord Arum," Damien murmurs, and then he comes closer, eyeing the both of them and taking a moment to determine his approach. He leans down, slipping one arm beneath Rilla's knees, the other behind her back. It is impossible not to touch Lord Arum in this, too, since she is leaning back against the monster, and his scales are cool and strange against Damien's arm. Arum hisses low at the contact, and his chest is rumbling in a way that vibrates against Damien's skin. Damien tries not to notice. Tries not to feel the way the contact makes his stomach twist, the odd contrast of Rilla's gentle warmth in his arms beside Arum's coolness, and then he carefully, carefully lifts.

Rilla, safe in his arms, her head slumping to rest against his shoulder with her monster-woven braid rippling down her back, and Arum stares up at the both of them with his head tilted, his expression focused and wary, and Damien smiles without meaning to.

"Thank you," he murmurs, and Arum scowls but does not deflect this time, and Damien drops his gaze from the monster as he carefully carries Rilla to the bedroom.

When he reaches the doorway, however, he hesitates, and then he glances back towards Arum, still sat amongst the cushions by the table.

"Can… can you manage back to your room on your own?" Damien asks, after a pause, and Arum looks away.

"In a few minutes, perhaps," he mutters. "I believe the doctor put my legs to sleep along with herself."

Damien stifles another laugh, pressing his lips softly to Rilla's hair to hide his smile. He hesitates again, but then-

"When I have settled her… I will come help you to your feet again, at least," he murmurs.

Arum blinks, his thin lips parting in surprise, but Damien simply nods and carries Rilla into her room, before Arum can thank him. Before Damien can memorize that precise look, flustered surprise shaping Arum's inhuman face.

[->]

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #scattered on my shore #lord arum #sir damien #amaryllis of exile

[jobsystem-blog]

possibilities for pc agency in choice of games romances

long post under the cut about my feelings about romance in games, particularly choice of games (along with stuff like genderflipping characters based on the pc’s gender and sexuality), basically just wanna vent + organize my thoughts on this! [cw for sex mentions + a single assault mention]

i’ve been playing and thinking about a lot of choice of games recently. i’ve always been drawn to them because nearly every one features lgbt characters and romances, but as much fun as i’ve had with the format, as well as the individual settings and characters, that romance aspect that had me so drawn always fell just a little bit flat. a lack of individuality and character in romantic options. they generally weren’t defined, and were customizable to the point of being boring. even now, even when they have their own personalities to some degree, none of the intimate moments between your characters ever feel real or special, because they are either the same across different romance options (choice of the deathless is a sore spot for me lol), or the moments aren’t integrated into the plot and don’t have any sort of emotional basis (i.e. they’re just tacked on)

i remember my first cog that wasn’t just the basic choice of dragons, romance, etc., heroes rise. you only got one love interest, who looked just like a specific celebrity you chose at the beginning of the game. in the next game, you literally choose another love interest’s name for them. of course, genderflipped chars tend to have this issue worse than characters with established genders, not because of that inherently, but because the lack of characterization and high customizability shows even more blatantly. that being said, even non-genderflipped characters can feel cookie cutter and boring after the first playthrough (again....choice of the deathless*)

over the course of the heroes rise series, you do actually get the chance to have romances with established characters, which really intrigued me. i never actually finished those romances (particularly not jury, which REQUIRED you to nonconsensually kiss him to begin the romance, but that’s a whole nother thing), but i remember being really excited realizing you actually could have a relationship with jenny, jury, and prodigal. especially since they felt like they each had their own sexualities, rather than just being bi for convenience, or straight/gay based on your sexuality**

there was something about those romances that felt, to me, much more integrated in the plot. like i was actually having a real romantic subplot in some superhero movie, instead of it just being tacked on and empty the way some of the romances felt***

over time, choice of games have definitely focused more on character development than their predecessors, with a much higher volume of characters with set genders and sexualities. the problem is....it hasn’t been nearly enough

i get that not every game is going to have romance be a big deal. my issue with this is that if you’re going to include romance, it should feel like it’s part of the story, not just some random aside. if writers aren’t going to give as much attention to romance as other parts of their story, why even bother including it? i think cog authors need to start understanding that there doesn’t need to be romance in their games for people to enjoy them, and boring romances don’t do anything for the quality of their stories

i’ve been quietly frustrated about this for a while now, but after playing heart of the house, with its relatively well-developed romances (and surprisingly detailed sex scenes lmao), my issues with how choice of games typically handle romance have become clearer in my head. i’m realizing now that the level with which heart of the house incorporated romance into the story should be the bare minimum that a game that markets itself as having a romance element should. even the one genderflipped character had a fleshed out personality, and good romantic/intimate scenes.

that being said

heart of the house still falls into some of the same traps that virtually all other choice of games do:

1. “pick this one specific flirty option to begin the romance”

this isn’t specific to choice of games, pretty much any game with romance that’s not a dating sim does this. it’s frustrating, because it only really works with certain pc’s personalities. i wanted to romance bastian in heart of the house with a weird occult nerd who doesn’t quite understand social conventions, but finds himself falling for bastian over time. i eventually had to break character if i wanted anything to happen, because apparently in the world of choice of games, characters can only understand love/flirting if it’s in the form of a saucy pickup line, which again, works for some characters (like the one i romanced dev with in another playthrough), but not for others.

the solution: give players multiple ways of starting a romance that can suit a variety of personality types. allow multiple ways to flirt, allow ways to subtly indicate your interest to your prospective love interest for people who wanna make shy, passive characters, and give multiple points at which a romance can start throughout the story so that people can experience their characters gradually falling in love instead of having to miss out on their chance to romance a character because they didn’t imply they wanted to fuck within the first five minutes of meeting them

2. linear romance

despite giving you a bunch of other personality stats and traits for every other part of the game, romances generally tend to play out in the same linear ways across playthroughs. somehow all these things affect every other part of the story....except for romantic + intimate scenes. it really breaks me out any immersion, especially when my character has to act out of character to even access any romances in the first place.

the solution: give players more agency during romantic + intimate scenes. let them take the lead, or allow the love interest to. let them direct the flow of the scene, just like any other non-romantic scene in the game.

3. genderflipping and perspective

genderflipping is controversial among the cog player base, with the majority of people relaying a single criticism of it: accusing the author of writing a character as a specific gender (male or female), and then just switching pronouns. another related complaint, is that of authors writing love interests for specific genders of pc (for instance, the way the sex scene with dev is written makes me think it was primarily written for a female pc, particularly with the way your male pc’s sexual preferences are basically decided for him). it’s true that many games do give off this vibe. however, many of the complaints strike me as strangely essentialist, as if a character should have a completely different personality if they’re male than if they were female, it’s true, gender has a huge impact on people, but this essentialism denies the reality that we are all human, we are all suggestible and influenced by our environments (which imo, largely account for gender differences in personality trends), and there is no one personality trait that every woman has that every man does not, and vice versa. i think we can criticize heteronormativity, homophobia, and misogyny without reifying the concept that men and women are intrinsically different on an emotional and personal level. imo, this very essentialism, where characters whose genders are variable across playthroughs (both love interests and the pc) are written from a specific gendered perspective, is what causes people to be alienated during romances, one way or another

the solution: again, this is where player agency comes in. allowing players to define their own narrative based on their own idea of their character will help players feel connected to their character. additionally, having a strong idea of what a character is like is key. rather than defaulting to heteronormative assumptions of how romance and sex must play out for male love interests vs. female love interests, take a minute to actually think through the personality of your character and what their preferences would be like. this is what i loved about bastian in heart of the house, because though he was a genderflipped character, what he was doing in the sex scene felt very in line with who he was, regardless of gender. meanwhile, dev’s sex scene was...well-written, but didn’t really speak much to dev’s character, in my opinion. in some ways, it almost felt out of character, and it was certainly very ooc for my pc, who was an outgoing flirt who liked to take charge. if you have a strong handle on what kind of person your characters are, they’ll seem genuine regardless of anything else.

4. integrating romance with the story

oftentimes, you can tell right away when a romance scene is going to be happening in a cog. the story suddenly gets diverted from w/e you’ve been focusing on until now, onto either some circumstance that has very little plot relevance, but is contrived to bring you and another character together, or a circumstance that does have plot relevance, usually with a brief diversion focusing on your chosen romance, followed up by the consummation of your relationship shortly after. even when you’re romancing a major character, during plot-important scenes, their dialogue with you often does not change, regardless of the level of relationship they have with you (enemies, friends, lovers, etc., it’s often all the same). the fact that you’re in a relationship with any given person generally doesn’t affect the overarching plot (except for choice of romance, ofc), and romances often feel tacked on for extra flavor. i don’t think i’ve seen a game that combines all these issues in one (except like....choice of the dragon but i dont think that counts lol), but most games have at least one element of this. in heart of the house, the first and only intimate/sex scene you have with your love interest always happens during the ball, and at no other time. in dinoknights, you may as well not have had a romance at all, except during a few brief asides.

the solution: this one is more complicated than the others, but even if you don’t want the player’s relationships to directly affect the main story, romantic + intimate scenes often feel much more integrated when they aren’t mainly segregated to defined “romance portions” of the game. a better way of approaching it is letting the story happen as it will, making sure love interests are interesting, well-defined, and relevant to the story, and considering how a romance might affect events as they play out. in my own game concept, there is a choice you can make that determines whether a certain character lives or dies. if that character lives, the aftermath of the danger that threatened them results in a vulnerable moment for them, and is the first point at which you can start a romance with them. this event would happen in the story regardless, but the way it proceeds would change based on your relationship with and reaction to them and the event, making a pivotal part of the story a similarly pivotal part of the development of your relationship.

i don’t know if this is all i want to say on the subject, but i wanted to get my thoughts out and down, for reference and also to help me think through the subject

congrats if you managed to read and stay interested in all of this lol

*ironically, the genderflipped character in deathless was the most interesting romance, iirc **i don’t actually think this is inherently a bad thing, but having characters with a variety of sexualities makes every other character’s sexuality feel more fleshed out, imo ***that being said.....i really did love lucky when the hero project first came out djshkjhs ****i’m referring to bastian with he pronouns, because that’s what he was in my playthroughs, and i don’t actually know what the female version of his character is named

#💌 #🌱

[kinetic-elaboration]

April 12: Thoughts on 1x11 The Calm

Thoughts on 1x11 The Calm:

S1 Bellarke is the hottest Bellarke fight me.

My boy Jasper doesn’t even appear in this ep and he’s STILL being useful literally making gunpowder like fuck off.

Bellamy is all for just killing everyone and Clarke wants to find some other way. I dunno if I read this as her being influenced by Finn or more like...her mind always whirring, always thinking of better solutions. She’s never content with just the most obvious thing. That said, their positions are reversed a season later: Clarke is all for just blasting the top off Mount Weather and Bellamy wants a more nuanced plan because he sees the people on the inside.

Why wasn’t Murphy + Octavia ever a thing? Also Murphy is smart about cooking meat. Chef!Murphy (head)canon already forming.

“When you’re really pissed off, you always find a project. Something to keep your hands busy so you don’t punch someone in the face.” Finn is annoying but this is good Raven characterization intelligence. Also their conversation is so painfully awkward. She really does just tamp it all down, bottle up those emotions.

Literally nothing is hotter than Bellamy being a leader and giving orders and the delinquents being a competent little group defending and taking care of themselves.

And yet again, Clarke suggested hunting and Bellamy essentially had to sign off on it (not only did he challenge on her and make her explain herself, but tbh if Clarke had told people to pick up spears and go they would have been like yeah right princess)--but it was Bellamy who gave the actual orders, BELLAMY who appears as the leader in the delinquent pov.

I wish there were more young delinquents--really young not Jasper-and-Monty young. Like this loquacious kid who goes hunting with Finn and Clarke. Or even Charlotte, kids that age. ...Really I just wish there were more delinquents. :/

So Raven’s first instinct isn’t to fuck away the pain, it’s to run. Dumb but understandable. She insults Bellamy based on his Ark job (”Aren’t you a janitor?”) which also feeds into my other theory about Ark and class status.

I know I’ve written B/raven stuff and I do ship them in a low-key way, in a ‘they would be interesting together’ way...but I don’t ship them in a canon way, tbqh. In this Bellamy and Raven scene, I see them having a good rapport, but in a way I also see him working her, getting her back on track not just for her own good but for everyone’s good. He has a double agenda and both parts are important.

I wonder how much familiarity everyone on the Ark has with everyone else. That’s not totally clear... people seem to have passing familiarity with others, but not close familiarity. On the other hand, Wick seems pretty comfortable just talking to a Councilor like whatever nbd. On the other, other hand that could be Wick’s personality and/or the circumstances. Most of the ship is probably dead and the rest will die soon so why be formal!

The creepiness of the Ark in this ep should not be understated.I love this aesthetic.

I want to know what the best part of a boar is! Clarke, don’t interrupt. Rude.

Two main characters and a kid you’ve never seen before go hunting in the woods. Which one is going to get speared?

Say what you want about Wick but he and Kane made a good team and I will stand by this opinion too.

In describing their route, Finn said they crossed a road. What road?? When have there ever been roads anywhere in this show?

Kane found a dozen survivors, Jaha has, like, 3....and somehow in Camp Jaha/Arkadia there are like several hundred (?) people. From only two stations like how is that possible? Also didn’t Farm Station have a couple hundred? They must have sent down over a thousand people lol. Kane did not find very many.

Also that Earth Monitoring Station is where the space survivors are living now and it was fucking destroyed in a fire but I guess we’ve just conveniently forgotten about that, huh useless show writers who can’t figure out their own continuity?

Kane has this annoying habit of just being uselessly self-sacrificing all the time. He would be so much more effective if he didn’t do that. He has a lot of hubris, I think. The unforgivable sin: thinking yourself so debased as to be unforgivable. It’s also another way of elevating yourself, of thinking yourself so important that you have sinned more than any other, are worse than any other...it’s still all ‘me me me.’ I think Kane is like that. He’s always looking for ways to sacrifice himself or to be dangerously heroic. I wonder if that matters more to him than, like, actual other people. (Some of this analysis could apply to Jaha at certain parts of his story, though mostly imo in S1. In S2 he starts thinking a little differently.) (ETA it definitely applies to him in this ep, where he wanted to sacrifice himself [and Sinclair] and Kane’s like ‘I’m not a dumbass, we need you smart people to save everyone else, this isn’t a wholly altruistic rescue mission you know.”)

Anya’s idiotic guilt trip re: Tris: “You did this to her.” Yeah I know she’s like 12 and that makes Clarke feel bad because her people don’t use pre-adolescents as soldiers but she should take the attitude she took with L. later. You don’t want me to fuck you up? Don’t attack me first. Would Anya be shedding any tears over the dead, disgusting bodies of the children her chemical attack killed? I doubt it. And they weren’t even soldiers! I mean really the Grounder attacks on the delinquent camp are the equivalent of an attack on a village of civilians, especially initially.

So Monty finds some of the first evidence of Mount Weather (the exodus ship logs showing interference) and Raven’s like ‘neato...give me that for parts.’ He’s much more curious than she is. She’s more...practical? Single-minded? Not that Monty isn’t practical. I dunno. Unrelated but I had this sudden image of modern!Monty listening for signs of alien life, for some reason.

Monty wants to keep the radio because he still believes in the Ark and he wants to see his parents again. “My family is up there.” Makes me even more curious what his relationship with his family is like. (You’d think S3 would have answered that but...not really.) He’s one of the few people who seems to care about those left on the Ark. And he looks so sad when Raven unplugs it... A rare moment when he lives up to his fandom cinnamon roll image. And when Raven leaves he picks up the radio thingy and I wonder if he’s considering putting it back together.

Murphy has a fish.

I gotta love Raven’s confidence: I’m hot and I’ve identified a straight man, if I start undressing, he’ll sleep with me. If I were as hot as her, I’d probably be that confident too, but still.

Bellamy’s “I’m not that guy” speech is actually hilarious when parsed. It’s like the equivalent of “IF I were going to say X, it would sound like this, but since I can’t, I won’t.” Like “If you’re looking for someone to tell you [a list of things in detail], that’s not me.” But you just did dumbass. His ‘bad boy’ persona cracks so easy.

Right before Clarke unpacks the medical tools, there’s a shot of a random $50 bill on the ground. Mmmmm something tells me that our weak U.S. paper isn’t going to survive a century post-apocalypse lol. There’s also a piece of paper. What is that stuff doing there?

Oh never mind. It’s an old bank. There’s paper and cash all over and lots of little drawers. Makes sense, banks would have vaults, and bunkers did have money in them. Maybe they’re in the Treasury’s old bunker. I never noticed that before, but it’s actually quite clever. The set design on this show is A-PLUS.

I’m not into the enemies-to-lovers thing generally but Anya/Clarke should have been a thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.

What an incredibly unsatisfying sexual encounter.

Kane says ‘no more than 1,000 survivors’ and ‘at least 1,500 dead.’ There have to have been at least 1,000 though, because they send them down on 12 ships and assuming they spread themselves about equally (which isn’t necessarily true but would be the smartest thing), that would be about 83 people to a ship. And I’m fairly sure Farm Station had more than 83 people and I’m also semi-sure that Arkadia as of 3x01 had more than 166. I mean it’s really hard to tell, and I can’t remember what sort of casualty numbers they gave for the Mount Weather explosion, but these seem like very low numbers to me. I don’t know. Maybe it does make sense and I’m just missing or mis-remembering something.

Having said all that, they did find another cache of survivors after this dialogue (including Abby), which might explain the discrepancy. (ETA not really because they only find, like, 10.)

Kane’s trip through the vent is a nightmare scenario for me so I’m just gonna...not watch.

Lindsey Morgan is so kickass in this ep, like how she stutters a little bit on “family” when she’s talking to Monty.

I completely forgot about this but the Grounders literally try to steal Clarke away like wtf. First of all, I wouldn’t trust her even as far as I could throw her if I were them. And second...she’s the enemy? But “prove your worth and you’ll be welcome here” I guess. Maybe Anya’s into her. I guess it’s good to poach the best talent from the other side before you destroy them. Also love that Clarke pretends to consider it.

The kill marks are to symbolize kills in combat so, really, Clarke’s 3x01 crack abut not having room on her back for all the deaths she’d caused misses the point...as far as I can remember she’s never actually killed in combat. Killing in self-defense, in group self-defense, or as part of an overall military-type mission isn’t the same as in combat, especially as she mostly acts as a general-type person, giving orders rather than doing deeds. Even pulling the lever, with Bellamy, is an awfully sanitized way of killing.

Going after this guy, getting him talking, taking out his knee and then slashing his throat, is one of Clarke’s best moments. HIGHLY UNDERRATED. Really second only to her escape from Mount Weather in early S2. Also props to Eliza Taylor, I appreciate how her expression afterward is half ‘oh shit I killed a man, this is terrible’ and half like steely resolve and determination.

Can Monty not tell the cardinal directions? (Your other West, Monty.)

A rare moment where Octavia and Raven seem like friends. Actually this is a good Octavia episode. She’s only in 3 scenes, which might explain why...

Also underrated is the tense but quick blnk-and-you’d-miss-it horror movie moment of Monty being taken by the Mountain Men. “What’s that creepy signal?.... Omigod... “ And he was never seen or heard from again.

So...why did the Mountain Men take him? Shits and giggles? To see if they could experiment on him? They seemed to have decided pretty quickly that the Sky People were like them, guests rather than blood resources. I wonder what the thought process was.

The end of this episode was aces. Great set up for the finale. I miss when this show was good.

#the year 2018 #2018: the 100 s1 #2018: fandom thoughts