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lovelybarnes · 3 years

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god- l. laufeyson (part 2)

pairings: loki laufeyson x reader, platonic!tony stark x reader, mentions of nick fury warnings: language and minor angst about: part 2 to god a/n: i apologize for taking so long to post it, i was having trouble coming up with the little details and honestly just writing overall but it’s up!! and another bucky fic will be up tomorrow or saturday!!

loki is suspicious after you leave. in the- admittedly short- time he’s been shoved away and locked in a cage to rot, he had seen you all of two times, and he was enthralled. flabbergasted, too, surprised that a simple mortal managed to stay hidden in the deep parts of his brain and refuse to leave. you were… interesting, just as you had described him: not as a villain, or evil, or horrendous, but captivating; unbelieving that he would do anything for no good reason.

whether that was true or not was still up for debate, so he had yet to decide if you were incredibly intelligent or the simple, stupid mortal he thought you all to be. nevertheless, he found himself slightly disappointed when you left, waving goodbye to him and tucking your book under your arm. while he tried to dissolve the sensation, tony stark came bounding in, standing as close as he could to the glass barrier. stark barked words that loki didn’t care much for, ignoring the man. he could see you wince from inside the elevator, a sliver of your face still available from the closing doors.

“hey, hey!” stark barked, snapping his fingers at loki. the god tilted his head at him, “yes?” he asks, voice dripped in more annoyance than usual. “that girl who just came out of here?” stark started, while loki took a minute to examine his words, “girl,” was she not an accomplished avenger? he thought tony of all people would show the respect that loki thought none of them deserved. “if you even think about doing anything to her, i will bring in the big guy to slam you around some more. you remember him? or do you need a refresher?”

loki nearly scowls at the mention of hulk, body reminding the strange ache that was left after the oaf slammed him into the floor. he only chuckles lowly, though, “how much do you distrust a fellow avenger to believe they cannot handle themselves?” loki muses. tony scoffs, shaking his head, “i really don’t think you’re in a position to question me.”

“i’m a god. i am always in the position i wish to be in,” loki reminds, making tony roll his eyes, “you’ll never see her again if i can help it. and i can,” he says. “oh, but i like her!” loki rebuts, riling tony up, “so sweet, don’t you think?” tony freezes, abruptly turning around and slamming a hand against the glass, “you will not lay a hand on her. i’ll make sure of it.”

“i seem to remember midgardians can usually do as they please,” loki replies smoothly. “and you really think she’ll want to spend time with a monster?” tony questions. loki smirks, “i suppose i simply have a feeling.”

tony is seething when he comes to your lab, having switched with steve to come talk to you. you’re humming along to a song he doesn’t bother to recognize. “you’re in a good mood,” tony observes. at the sound of his voice, you turn, taking your earbuds out and grinning at him. you press what he assumes is the pause button on your phone, “tony! i’ve actually been meaning to ask you something,” you begin. tony raises an eyebrow to tell you to continue. “it’s about loki,” you continue, anxious about his reaction. the man pauses, exhaling softly, “oh. i know what you want to- i’m so sorry for doing that to you, y/n. i promised that i wouldn’t put you with him and we should’ve been more prepared. it won’t happen again.”

the confusion is clear on your face, vocally affirming it with a “huh?”

“that’s what you wanted to talk about, right? babysitting loki?”

“well, yes, but no, it actually wasn’t bad, i wanted to bring up the idea of maybe allowing him books? or maybe music or something, i can’t imagine going from having any book at your fingertips to none at all. also, he’s not getting enough food and i wanted to talk to you abou-” tony stops you with a raised hand, “what?” you recognize the conversation won’t end too well, so you try to phrase your words in a way that tony won’t get too angry at. “i just- when i was watching him, i thought we could be a little less… cruel.”

“with the guy who tried to take over earth?” tony retorts, you sigh softly, already beginning to feel resigned. “he still deserves to eat,” you defend weakly, “come on, tony, please? i’ll watch over him myself when he’s listening to music or reading or eating and i’ll take it back when i have to leave.” tony shakes his head, “someone will always be watching, and it won’t be you.” you frown, “why? don’t you trust me? i’m an avenger, tony. i’m not weak or useless, it’s just watching over someone who is literally in a cage. he can’t even escape.” tony’s about to say no again, so you press, “how come nick fury- man who doesn’t trust- trusts me enough to do that but you don’t?”

tony’s fingers squeeze the space between his eyebrows, eyes closed. he contemplates the effects if he refuses, no doubt ending in the thinning-by-the-minute thread that is your trust in him completely snapping.

“fine,” he finally agrees, and your frustrated frown melts back into a relieved small smile, “but everything you give him has to go through someone else first. i don’t care if it’s fury or hill or romanoff or me, but it has to be approved.” you nod quickly, “yes, of course.” tony raises a finger, “and, you will watch him the whole time. you got yourself into this, kid. i trust you can protect yourself from him if you ever need to.” you agree, “absolutely, and, uh-” you reach into your bag, pulling out the book finnegan’s wake, and your old ipod, equipped with a single downloaded song and earbuds plugged in. “i actually have already chosen a book and a song that i think he would appreciate during the time he tells me himself what he would like and while it gets approved, and um,” you push the objects toward tony, a surprised look lining his features, “since you have time now… the ipod has only that one song and i doubt he can do anything with either of the items, although i’ll be here if he does.”

“you picked these out for him?” tony questions, and you nod again, “i don’t really know him, i doubt anybody does, but i thought james joyce was a good guess considering.” tony looks from the objects in your hand back to you, before sighing and grabbing them. “i want to break free?” he asks, holding up the ipod. you feel your cheeks heat, “music is hard, i went for the obvious.”

tony exhales, looking down at the book, “fine, both are approved.”

“what, you’re not gonna check to see if i carved out a hole into the book and put the tesseract in there so he could escape?” you ask sarcastically, taking back the items while he rolls his eyes. “no, i trust you.” you grin, “you better. there’s no reason for you to not,” tony agrees with you softly, genuinely feeling bad while he kisses your cheek in goodbye. “steve was just called on a mission and needs a replacement, so you better get down there. bowser isn’t in a good mood today.”

you huff out a light laugh at the nickname, cradling your dear books and tangling your fingers in the cords of the earbuds while you walk to the elevator. you catch your bottom lip between your teeth while you watch the numbers blink above the elevator doors, nerves from your choices finally making a home in the pit of your stomach and making your grip tighten on the items. you really don’t know him, and one of the few things that you do know about him is that he isn’t the nicest- although you think it probable that it was warranted- which begins the inkling of regret of your carefully-picked choice to form. you try your best to push past it though, attempting to reassure yourself through the fact that loki’s reading options are limited, and as evil as everyone (including him) claims he is, you suspect (hope) that there is something in him that can’t simply disregard kind gestures. you suppose that theory is from what thor has told you about frigga. you hope it’s correct.

the elevator dings, knocking your thoughts off their destructive railroad and your attention to the shield guard wearily eyeing you and what you carry. “hey, wally,” you greet, shooting him a smile as you walk over to him, pulling your id card from your pocket. “what’cha got there?” he asks, sitting up straighter in his chair to look closer at you. “a- already approved by tony stark- book and song for loki. you know how much he had access to in asgard?” you question. he shakes his head, and you sigh, “me neither. but i imagine it’s a lot, and i don’t think he’s been introduced to our books yet.”

wally stares at you for a few seconds, before pursing his lips, “already approved by stark?” he checks, “already approved by tony,” you repeat. “just no ear things. don’t want him to choke somebody,” he instructs, holding out his hand. you oh quietly, hurriedly pulling off the headphones and putting them in his hand. wally only nods then, trusting you enough to not ask for any more reassurance, and pressing a button next to him to allow you into another elevator. the ride is much shorter, and you bounce on your heels, fidgeting with the edge of the book.

you barely recognize when the doors part, the slick-haired god already examining you. “in asgard, it is strongly discouraged to damage books like you are doing,” loki states. you stop your picking, dropping your hand and walking inside. “hello to you too, loki.” the god ignores you, instead focused on what is in your arms. “i thought any pleasantries for you weren’t allowed down here,” he says, eyes focused on your ipod. “ah, not if you ask nicely,” you reply, standing next to the chair, “and, these aren’t for me.”

you set your own book down on the floor- a very cliche wuthering heights, but it was either that or romeo and juliet, and you’d prefer not get caught reading about a forbidden romance while watching a villain- and hold up the one for him, grinning. “so i don’t know much about asgard or its books because thor hasn’t budged yet on taking me, but from what i can gather, you have little to no media from here, right?” loki ducks his chin suspiciously in response. “so i can imagine you haven’t read shakespeare, or james joyce, which reminds me a lot of you, so…”

you offer no more explanation, putting the book on your chair and showing him the ipod, walking closer to the glass. “this is an ipod. it’s used to play songs offline, and i picked one out for you. i don’t know if you’ll like it because i don’t really know what type of music you like or if you like it at all-” you pause, finally recognizing how long it had been since he’d talked. “but, uh, i hope you do.”

you look up at him then, unsurprised to find him already staring back at you. “you did this for me… why?” he queries skeptically. “i told you before; i imagine it’s difficult to go from everything to nothing in a day. and i think it must be boring to be trapped in there all day with nothing to do.”

loki still looks distrustful, but you grab the book, pulling out the key card to open his food slot. “i can’t leave these in here after i leave, but i’ll stay until you finish both,” you assure, pushing the book through the small gap. your ipod is still in your hands as you walk back near him. he looks at you for a few moments longer before his eyes flick to the book. “and there are no… explosives? poison of some kind in that?”

you shake your head, “no, of course not.”

loki narrows his eyes at the paperback anyways, walking towards it apprehensively. “when you want me to, i can teach you how the ipod works and you can listen to the song. it’s by a rock band called queen,” you babble, watching as he slowly observes the book before picking it up at an even more leisurely pace.

“i’m going to go sit over there now. just let me know if you need something,” you can’t seem to stop talking, so you focus instead on your legs moving you back to your seat, picking up your novel before sitting. you’re about to ramble on about something else again, until you notice the publication in loki’s hands, slightly panicking at the immediate rush of satisfaction and happiness it gives you when he opens the first page.

you try to avoid the sound of turning pages when you stay stuck on the same sentence, too concerned about why your neck decided to warm when the god accepted your favor.

“you can play it,” loki voices suddenly, almost as if reading the loud thoughts about your decision on the song. he looks up at you, “reading is usually accompanied by light music, but i suppose i could listen to rock.”

you nod, pressing a button on the small device that makes the beginning notes bounce off the walls of the room. your fingers gently tap along to the beat on the edge of your page without your noticing, too used to the melody to not react. you try not to look too hard at loki to watch for his reaction, too interested if he’ll like it or not.

after the first minute passes by and he doesn’t object to the sound, you count this as a win, allowing yourself to relax into your chair and actually read the words lined on the page, discovering them to make a lovely combination. you only notice when the song ends when loki speaks up, “it is okay,” he compliments, “i enjoyed it. i think i’d enjoy your so called queen.” you chuckle softly, “i thought you would. do you have any favorites here so i can add them for next time?”

“no,” loki responds, not taking his eyes off the page. “i’ll find some for you, then,” you promise, then press play on the ipod again, not missing the tiny quirk of loki’s lips, making you way too giddy than you should be.

after it has been over six hours and loki has barely finished finnegans wake, you’re completely sure he took extra time to read it; whether it be to absorb it better or simply have more time with it in his hands, you don’t care, pride swelling up in your chest because you did something right for him. he hadn’t complained about the repeated song, and you can’t blame him. the sounds are a lot more entertaining than the cold silence that usually occupies the space where he resides.

you ask loki more about what he thought, attempting to coerce him into telling you his preferences, until tony is calling you up.

you’re about to leave, both books and ipod in hand when you pause.

“y/n,” loki starts, and you realize it is the first time you’d hear your name out of his mouth. you decide you like how it sounds in his voice, not disregarding how you shouldn’t. “yes?” you answer instead, meeting his eyes. “thank you.”

you swallow, surprised at the genuinity in his voice while you nod, “it was no problem.”

loki finds it disturbing how much he dislikes seeing you walk away.

#loki laufeyson #loki friggason #mcu loki #reader x loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #mcu loki x reader #mcu loki x you #loki laufeyson imagine #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x you #tony stark #avengers x reader #avengers #avenger!reader

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bubblegumbeech · 3 years

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@omnicrex Ask And Ye Shall Recieve

Okay so, The only one who tells Danny what‘s up with Dan (Dark!Danny) is Vlad. Everyone else just says: “hey this is what you become in the future”

A little sus right? Considering no ones going after Vlad for his role in everything?

Maybe... that‘s because what Vlad told Danny was all a carefully fabricated lie

Why lie? I hear you ask.

:3c

Because it was a trick to get Danny to do something for him while also attempting to endear himself/emotionally manipulate Danny

My theory:

Vlad Lied about “you had no where to go but to me -a guy you hate- after your family died”

This is Unequivocally false!!

Maddie had a sister who owns a farm in the country side!! Wouldn’t Danny go there to be with his last living family member? Unless Vlad Did something to stop that from happening and forced Danny to stay with him instead...

Which sounds VERY Vlad.

He then lied about Danny asking him to “rip the humanity out” so he wouldn’t feel hurt anymore. This next part I’m not sure about but I think Vlad did/said something along the lines of threatening to do that and Danny, emotionally unstable, reacted by Being the one to rip out Vlad’s humanity instead.

Also the reason Vlad survived more or less intact is because he’s less ghost than human unlike Danny who is a perfect split but that’s just more head-canon and not necessarily evidence

Obv they would have fought, but Vlad would have been severely weakened, and Danny would have been able to absorb Vlad’s ghost side, leading to the creation of Dan (the ghostly combination of Danny and Vlad)

My next point!! The EVIDENCE

See, when Dan transforms into Danny there are a number of things that Don’t match up with Vlad’s story

For one (1): why does his transformation look exactly the same as it always does when phantom turns back into his human form? white rings and all? We’ve seen other characters shapeshift and disguise themselves as human and it NEVER looks like that!!

For two! (2): How are his eyes BLUE!!! Every shapeshifting ghost that has pretended to be human in this show had their eyes stay the same color from their ghost form!! Even when possessing people!!

For three!! (3): This one isn’t as strong because the fenton’s tend to be kinda useless in canon in general but How would none of the Fenton’s tech or what not, failed to pick up a full ghost masquerading as their son? Unless it was the usual amount of half-ghost human form bs

Also! It makes sense, that Dan’s form is different if he absorbed a ghost as powerful as Plasmius. It also makes sense, that his human half wouldn’t change at all since it’s a physical body and that’s not how humans work. This is why he’s Dark!Danny and why the focus seems to be on Danny and his possible future mistakes.

This also ties into (and is strong evidence for) my theory that Danny wouldn’t age after he died/became half ghost which is why his human form is still the exact same!!!!!!

Why did Vlad lie about it?

Simple! He wanted Danny to change the past, without his ghost powers his life fell to ruins. He was unable to manipulate the world to his whims and he was left to rot. -This young, naive Danny that has a soured opinion of Vlad but not a pure genuine hatred, not yet, is his ticket to getting back the life he had

So he emotionally manipulates him, plays up the “I was only trying to help I care So much about you oh woe is me” angle

And then demonizes/guilts Danny: “you murdered your own human half!” So that when Danny went back to his own timeline and fixed everything, the Vlad of the past would get a bit more lenience and be able to further worm his way into Danny’s life.

After all, what better way to convince someone to keep giving you a chance if you’ve already “redeemed yourself” once?

That’s my Ted talk for the day.

Everyone talks about TUE Vlad being redeemed but I call BS

That fucker watched the world burn around him and then decided to try again

#Danny phantom #TUE #theory #OP #Bee's thoughts #Dark!danny #Dan phantom #vlad masters #bumble thoughts

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beetleboo · 3 years

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long post. one i’ve been trying to make for a while now. hell, i wrote this like... third week of may. didn’t post it until now because i didn’t know if I wanted to.

but something i want to lay out, been wanting to lay out for months. dont want to talk to anyone about it, just want to put the info out there for it to be seen.

if you re/blog this i will block you. i may put this on the relevant sideblog at some point.

because 2020 was the worst year on record for me for a number of reasons, and it’s torn me down to the lowest point i’ve been in a long time, and this is just. everything that’s gone down. not a callout post, no one gets named, but these are all the events

partially in relation to my fandom sideblog, because that’s where i had community, and where it’s all just. gone. doesnt exist anymore.

i started up a server, ages ago now. somewhere i curated to be a positive and safe space for things, and for a while, it was that.

around the end of 2019, spilling over to the start of 2020 when it picked up, i found, both on my blog and in discord spaces, in particular the server i ran, that people no longer talked to me. no one would hold a conversation with me past a few basic responses, no one replied to anything i shared, no one engaged when i tried to start discussions. so i pulled back from the main server - S1. thought it was just a lull in activity. stayed that way for weeks, months, and I just muted the server. no one ever cared about anything i had to say. was lucky if anything i posted got even a token emoji react

was in another, smaller server - S2. people i talked to damn near every day, even in voice. played games together - that became... no fun simply because everyone else was so much better/further ahead in the game. i was completely useless, so didn’t server a function in game and never really felt like anyone actively wanted me around, but i still participated in chat.

but again, no one ever responded to anything I posted beyond maybe a token react

couple people discussing something one day. I contributed with Theory A, and quite immediately got that shut down. few minutes later, they rephrased exactly what I said and happily nattered away. so whatever I said wasn’t worth it when it came out of my mouth but if they talked about it, it was all well and valid. so again, between that specific experience and no one interacting with me, nor anything I post. server muted. treatment taught me no one cared about my presence there.

gave admin rights to S1, my server, to someone I trusted. two requests only: dont delete channels and let me know if you want to invite anyone (since I kept it private)

RYE (i’m just assigning random three letter names to people to keep this straight) posted public invites several times. never asked me. one of the two things i asked. brought it up with them that it bothered me, just got vague noncomittal responses. more public invites. eventually, after having the server muted for months, i handed over full control and left. that was almost a full year ago. none of the people have talked to me in that entire year, through discord or here or anything.

except RYE who sent me a message after a couple months like ‘wow i havent heard from you in a while hope you’re doing ok’. i wasn’t. after a bit but still the same day, i said as much. that i wasn’t doing well. they never responded. and i don’t mean like, they didn’t respond that day. i mean i literally never heard from them until months later when they sent me a meme and also didn’t respond to me commenting on that meme.

and this is one side of things. all of the above was the first half of the year. this next bit happened about. march2020? I was in another server - S3. another place that was a good space at the time. was in voice chat with two other people. started talking about one thing. MIN very suddenly said something along the lines of ‘i don’t care about this i’ll come back when you’re done’

this is one of the very few things that can trigger me - i’ve had a lot of people talk down to me if I dare look excited about anything. when they came back, i asked if they could try to just. depart conversations more softly. MIN always said ‘if i do anything hurtful to you just tell me! i dont want to do that kind of thing!’

this was clearly a lie as they exploded on me, telling me they always have to walk on eggshells around me, that I ask so many things from them. before what I asked them that day, I can only recall one other thing i asked (which was not to talk about a person who was abusive towards me, and they were like ‘yea sure np’ about that, over a year prior’)

the whole thing turned into basically me having to shut down the fact that i was hurt by what they did, had to ignore that now and i had to fawn and placate them and the only thing i got out of that was that my feelings were irrelevant, only theirs.

(incidentally, I have had two other people turn on me in similar ways, accusing me of doing shifty/bad/terrible things, and not being willing to tell me what they are when I ask, only saying that ‘i should know what i did’ so that’s also now a Fun New Bit Of Trauma.)

and that entire weeklong event lead me straight to a breakdown. literal genuine breakdown i cannot convey how devastating that entire scenario was without going into far too many details.

so between all of these things happening in less than six months, with three different community spaces folding and collapsing and fading away from me, with many of the friends i thought i had just. moving on to other things and dropping me. people i talked to every day just not bothering with me anymore. they all have gone on to other stuff and no one ever went ‘hey beets wanna see what i’m up to’ or ‘wanna do this thing with me’

a handful of instances of me saying ‘yeah i’m dealing with these fears that have been reinforced lately that people aren’t safe to deal with, even thought part of me knows they’re probably irrational it feels like i have evidence to back it up’ and people immediately take it personally like i’m saying they’re not safe. despite. me outright saying. i know logically it should be irrational. but their reactions just reinforce it so it’s just a loop and tells me, again, never to bring up any of my problems with anyone.

so this all just reinforces that there’s something wrong with me. couple years back i spoke to a friend and how i was frustrated that I seemed to end up in bad spaces and they said ‘well you’re the one thing in common so its probably your fault’ and obviously they’re not my friend anymore but that has affected me so deeply. i can’t do anything without overthinking, whenever anything goes wrong i tear apart everything i’ve done and everything i’ve said or thought and i don’t know why things keep going bad. i try so hard but i’m just. not right.

so it all teaches me that there’s no point in reaching out in trying to talk to people because if i say ‘hey this hurt me’ i get ignored at best or torn down, yelled at, scolded. no point in trying to talk to new people because everyone just walks away at some point. not even a natural drift apart, i can handle that. but just very suddenly, they’re gone, off with better people doing better things.

roundabout, ties back to ‘consumption versus community’ - this is why i’ve been struggling so hard with lack of engagement on my sideblog. lucky to get a dozen notes on anything i make, unless it’s something other people can use (like mods) and even THEN it’s rare to see much activity. and that was FINE because i had people to talk to elsewhere, who would ask questions and we could back and forth and i shared my stuff and they shared those and it didnt matter if my posts only got a dozen notes because i had friends to talk to.

now i get (example) seven notes, six of which are likes and one is a reblog with no commentary. when i have something with a ton of notes, still, minimal commentary, no one talks to me. even on a mod with five hundred notes it just feels like i went ‘hey i made something :)’ and everyone picked it up and walked away with it, no one went ‘hey this is cool i want to talk to the person who made it.’

and it just feels like 95% of the time, i’m just overlooked.

and it’s worse than it’s ever been in my entire life, and I wonder, what’s the point of any of this anymore.

why bother to make the posts to share when it all just gets passed by. what’s the point in trying to reach out to new people and make friends when i get lashed out at or left behind? the social is gone out of my social media. i had community, and now it’s gone.

so this has all been going on for months and months and months and hey! suffering. and i dont expect it to get any better, don’t expect this post to fix these issues, but i’ve been trying to say something about all of this for fucking months and i think just, laying it all out is all I can do about it. i’m sure i’ve forgotten some things to touch on but as it is, all these events, all of it happening all together. new traumas, old traumas reawoken, reinforced, i’ve been torn to pieces i don’t know how to function, i can’t remember the last time i felt like even half a real person. taught that the safe, positive spaces that meant so much to me don’t actually exist and they’ll all turn on me and be torn away. nowhere is safe anymore, and trying to make it safe is just going to ruin me again.

people aren’t safe, places aren’t safe, been proven to me time and time again so i just. stay away.

no matter how much i try to fight that, it just doesnt work.

anyway tl;dr beets needs therapy probably

#beetleposts #miserytag

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lettrespromises · 4 years

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╰┄───➤ LettresPromises informs you : you have one notification. ❜ Letter object : ‘Screaming into the abyss’ - Katsuki Bakugou.

╰──➤ Katsuki Bakugou sent you a letter, would you like to read it? ❜

Letter object : Injured, Bakugou is forced to stay at home under the orders of the medical unit where he will begin being tormented by his own emotions and the guilt of not being able to help you. As the emotions build up within him, he finally explodes, and you’re here to pick up all the shattered pieces and glue them back together.

Author’s letter : ❝dear reader, I had to, I’m so sorry but I had to write something about this following the catastrophe of chapter 285. I do hope, however, that you will like this (and I might have gotten lost in descriptions once again so I apologize in advance.) also, bonus point if you’ve read nietzsche or heard about his theory on the abyss (wink, wonk @ the last line of the letter.) sending lots of love your way! sealed with a kiss, nikki.❞ Genre : Angst, fluff, comfort. Warnings : Cursing. Word count : 2.6K.

Maybe, the mask deserved to fall. Maybe, the mask was meant to be shattered. Maybe, the mask belonged amongst the ashes. The crimson mask which, to the common eye, echoed to the imagery of a surge of flames which were fueled by passion and perfectionism. These flames were scary, almost untamable in a way, but they were beautiful, tempting— and here laid mankind’s first paradox : feeling the urge to approach and tame a wild entity. But today, the shine reflecting in this suffering inferno has changed. It’s not longer crimson, it barely holds any shade of red. This fire used to burn to intimidate others, now, it burns just enough to survive. It has changed.

And that’s how everything became blurry— the crimson orbs found themselves to be the martyrs of the emotions draining them. Pearls of salt gathered at the corner of his eyes and fell while following the path created by the dry tears which had previously rolled down the flesh of his cheeks. It was like a cascade, and the rhythm of the tears almost seemed mechanic— as soon as a tear hung from his chin, another one started taking form to replace it right away.

Knowing that he couldn’t control his own emotions drove him insane, but he fell in the trap set by his subconscious— the more he was thinking about how to gain the upper hand over his emotions, the more he felt constricted by the invisible knots forming in his throat. Perhaps knowing that there was no other solution left was yet another motive to cry about.

Bakugou’s head hung low, his crimson orbs never leaving the floor as he was doomed to observe his own downfall through the repetitive drops of his tears. He didn’t dare to blink either, judging that it would only make the tears grow bigger until he would not be able to perceive something clearly anymore. His nails were dug into the skin of his palms, imprints of crescents trailed behind as a testimony of his frustration. His mouth was wide open, too, Bakugou was inviting his body to scream its pain, force the illness out of his body, and although he forced himself to voice vividly his agony, no sound came out of his mouth— he was screaming into the abyss.

« God-fucking-damnit, why is it so fucking hard, hah? W-Why can’t I fucking get this out?! » A crescendo shadowed his intonation, but failed to cover the betraying breaks accompanying his voice. The surprising cracks in his voice made him shut silent, and for a second, he wished no sound could leave his parted lips if it meant he was going to show even more vulnerability. But most of all, he wished that you would not come home earlier and perhaps in the nick of time, he would have re-gained the possession of his own emotions. He couldn’t find himself to imagine a scenario where you would burst out of the door and see him naked, in a way— what were you going to say to him? Were you going to call him ‘weak’? Were you going to break up with him? Were you going to be disgusted? If it meant losing you, then Bakugou was willing to be a silent martyr.

He was way past trying to find an answer to the enigma and thus find why his emotions were filling his senses, he knew that said answer was not going to fall straight from above, perhaps there was no answer. But he couldn’t help and reminisce the events which took place a few weeks prior to that— he failed to arrest a villain and, whilst battling them, got severely injured and was forced to stay off of hero duty for a few weeks. Bakugou felt useless, and guilt for not being able to save citizens was exuding from his every pore, sometimes, he wondered if he really deserved the status of hero in these conditions. The sole heroic acts he was allowed to do was send a text to ‘Shitty Hair’ and congratulate him on his work, not that he would ever openly admit that he was willing to do anything and everything to take his spot.

His work was dangerous, he would wake up every morning wondering if today was the last time he was going to kiss you goodbye, and perhaps he started pouring more bits of genuine adoration in his morning pecks since this epiphany struck him. But his work was also addictive, the sensation of feeling adrenaline course through his veins until hitting his brain was a marvel and he just wanted to know what it felt like to save civilians, prevent crimes from happening— he wanted to witness this all over again, as if he had been overwhelmed by a sudden wave of amnesia.

The sound of keys rattling in the lock didn’t even startle him, he stopped crying, and that was enough of a victory to him already. But as soon as you stepped foot in your shared apartment and were welcomed with silence, your guts were quick to tell you that something was off. You ventured in the vicinity with cautious steps, as if you were discovering your apartment all over again under the heavy influence of silence, but you couldn’t see Bakugou anywhere.

« Katsuki? Are you here? » You called, not sincerely expecting an answer. « Oh, fuck off already. » He responded silently, sincerity abandoning his words.

You had tried to look for him in every room, but failed to find him. Sure, there was one last option and the most intimate one, but knowing that Bakugou could possibly be stuck in your bedroom felt like breaking his own intimacy. You had tried to be by his side as much as you could during his time at home, but you were a hero yourself, and perhaps you felt like staying away from him for a bit would diminish the burning sensations of his pain.

You found yourself knocking against the door and immediately forgetting about your own advice on how to give him intimacy, « Katsuki, I know you’re in there. » but you met silence as a response. Pursuing your intentions, you tried opening the door but you realized soon after that it was locked, your brows were furrowed in incomprehension. You allowed yourself to release a breath you ignored you were holding until feeling the invading sensation of several knots forming in your stomach under the feeling of guilt, and thus, you fell on your knees near the door, weakened.

« Katsuki, love, do you want to talk about it? » You inquired, the sound of your voice coming out as a hushed confession.

« Talk about what? » He barked but it was innocent.

« Don’t tell me you locked yourself in our bedroom because you actually like it. »

« I do whatever I fucking want, that’s none of your goddamn business. » This is why he should have stayed silent, to avoid the crack to distort his voice.

« Katsuki, open the door before I destroy it with my bare hands. »

You were met once more with silence, but this time it hurt more, probably because Bakugou chose not to respond deliberately. Still, you waited for a few seconds, never leaving your position nor moving by an inch— after all, you still had the hope that he silent because he was on his way to come open the door. But, oh well, what a disillusion!

« Come out of the bedroom whenever you want, I’m out. » your actions accompanied your words and you got up, dusting yourself off in the process.

And while your hands swatted away the bits of dust clinging onto the fabric of your pants, the deafening sound of your bedroom door swinging wide open caught you off by surprise. You were met with the dim fire dancing in his crimson orbs before acknowledging the invading sensation of his limbs encompassing your waist in a (literally) breathtaking hold. You were rendered stiff, not only because of the rapidity of this action, but also because this was not a characteristic of Bakugou. His head was nestled in the crook of your neck, not that he had the courage to willingly show his face marked by the torment of his emotions anyway, and his fingertips almost turnt white under the pressure applied on your lower back.

« Don’t go anywhere, stay here. » hot breaths crashed against your skin. « I’m not going anywhere, I’m here, I won’t go away. » you responded equally as intimate, your fingertips brushed the roots of his hair in circular motions. « Now, » you let your hands travel down his face until cupping his cheeks and making him bore his eyes into yours, « do you still refuse to talk to me? »

He blinked once, to make sure he had heard correctly, and then a second time, to prevent the tears from finding the familiar path drawn on his cheeks. He couldn’t stand looking at you, or rather, he couldn’t stand the fact you were looking at him in all his shameful glory, bare with all his emotions written all over his face. But from your perspective, never once did he look as beautiful as now— the reddish tone of his eyes married the scarlet color of his iris, the color of his cheeks matched the color of his eyes, too. But most of all, he was beautiful because he let his emotions speak for him.

He was hesitant, unsure of how his body was bound to react, unsure of how you were going to react as the haunting thoughts of you finding him weak were still clouding his mind. And yet, he couldn’t gather enough strength to look elsewhere but in your eyes, as if a calming bliss were attracting his orbs like magnets would do. He took one breath, it was solemn, but necessary for both the sake of his tirade but also for the sake of unifying his thoughts upon exposing them to daylight.

« I fucking feel like shit ‘cause I haven’t done anything since I’m injured. You, Shitty Hair, Dunce Face, everyone is busting their ass off to fight shitty villains left and right and I gotta’ stay at home doing nothing. I can’t do shit to help you. For fuck’s sake, I can’t even cook to help you out after your day on patrol— I’m fucking useless, you hear me? I’m fucking useless while you’re risking your life out there every day. What the fuck am I supposed to do? Sit here and not do shit? Sit here until I have a fucking confirmation that you’re safe and sound? I fucking hate this, I fucking hate feeling like a burden to you, I fucking hate feeling useless! » The more he talked, the more venom he spat, the more his voice was breaking under the tight grip of his emotions.

It was your turn to reply, but your brain couldn’t seem to form a comprehensive sentence. Sure, there were words and whatnot, but none clicked to create a real sentence. Your mouth was set agape in anticipation, and you laid your gaze upon him and his features— how he dug his pearly whites into his lower lip to refrain himself to give in to the temptations of his emotions and cry, how his eyes screamed for an answer on your end because he couldn’t stand silence as an answer, how he tried to catch his breath and ease his heart.

Your palms were still covering his cheeks. But if this action came from a place of willing to get his attention, now you just felt as if you were cradling the finest piece of china which threatened to shatter at any given moment. You knew how horrible of a situation this must have been for him, so you allowed to grant him his deserved intimacy, your palms orientated his cranium in the crook of your neck, just enough to give him sentimental privacy. And although you claimed that you were doing this for him, you were also doing this to prevent yourself from breaking into tears. Your hearts beat in unison, so did your emotions.

« I don’t even know where to begin », you begin as your digits ran through his hair to soothe him, « I feel so guilty for not doing something about this before », upon saying this, Bakugou pinched your hip in disagreement to which you let out a hushed yelp in response, « Bakugou Katsuki, I know your pride will tell you not to believe me but listen to me for one second, will you? It’s plain and simple, you’ve always been the person I look up to the most. When we were at U.A, I wanted to be like you and every time I was asked who was my inspiration, I would always say that it was Mount Lady or All Might but the only person I could think about was you. You did injure yourself, it sucks but you did it while fighting off a villain and you allowed a family to escape the zone safe and sound. You’re injured because you saved people, not because you tripped down the stairs. » You finished, allowing your lungs to absorb some much needed oxygen while Bakugou slightly tightened his hold as he already missed your voice.

« If you’re not proud of yourself, you know I’ll always be. And, please, you’re not a burden— if anything, I’m glad to know you’re safe here but I also know that soon enough you’ll be able to cook me something because you hate it when I cook for you. », you continued and obligated him to face you one last time, « whenever you’re in doubt, think of how much I love you, and how great of a hero you are. » you concluded your sentence by reducing the space between your lips and crashing yours against his in a unison of sentiments.

Both protagonist shut their lids close to allow the sensations granted by the kiss to roam their body and mind while they were both persuaded of seeing stars. Sure, you had kissed Bakugou more times than you could remember in the past, but here, you could easily discern the tones of care, gratitude and genuine adoration gracing your lips. And once oxygen failed your lungs and had to break the kiss against your will, you noticed that the crimson inferno was more vivid than earlier— Bakugou thanked your passion for fueling his fire and bringing it back from its ashes, like the fire of a Phoenix.

« ‘Love you, too. » Bakugou whispered against your lips.

« I’m sorry, care to say it again? » you responded, a playful smirked plastered on your facial features.

« Hah? Didn’t you fucking hear what I said? » He stared at you in disbelief, already second-guessing his choices in declarations, « I’ll say this once, so listen well, dumbass : I love you. Got that, now? ‘Cause I’m not saying it again. »

But you heard everything, of course you did, you always do. You hear his odd nicknames, you hear his cursing, you hear his screams, you hear his secret declarations of love and you hear him when he’s screaming into the abyss.

« I love you too, Katsuki, so much. » The abyss stared back at him, and offered him a smile.

#bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha x reader #mha #bnha #bnha x reader #bakugou fluff #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugou oneshot #bakugou hcs #bakugou smut #bakugou imagines

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firefly464 · 4 years

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The Real World - Chapter 4

Uhhh so I may have gotten a bit carried away writing this chapter... Oh well! I had lots of fun writing it :D

Made in collaboration with @i-have-this-now

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~~~

Tommy stared out the window of his small wooden shack. He had been relocated from the broken down van to a new, hastily put together room in the corner of L’manberg. Everyone had figured that the van was due to collapse at any second, and they didn’t exactly want the teenager in there when it did. After all, it wasn’t like he could just go back to his own base. That was directly in the middle of the Dream SMP. Going back there would be like signing a death warrant.

He understood his friends thought process, he really did. But just because he understood it didn’t mean he was happy about it. Ever since he arrived in this strange world, the broken down van had been his home away from home. He knew that just being in it was dangerous, but that didn’t really matter. It was important to him. He was just glad they hadn’t forced him to stay in the underground bunker with everyone else.

He sighed as he stared up at the night sky. What time was it now anyways. 2am? Maybe 3? Didn’t really matter either way. His mind was too full for sleep. He kept thinking about his home. His real home. He thought about his family and friends. He thought about his dogs, his favorite foods. How long had it been since he last slept in his own bed? Since he had eaten something that wasn’t just bread and steak?

A tear slid down his face. He wanted to go home… But he had no idea how he had even gotten to this world, much less how to get out. Hell, there wasn’t even anyone who he could talk to about it. Unless…

A thought crossed his mind. He recalled how Dream had acted during the duel, in the seconds before he had lost consciousness. He had screamed and ran over to his side, as if trying to check on him. It was something that didn’t match up with the stories tubbo had told him. Whenever Tubbo had brought up Dream, his eyes filled with genuine anger and hatred. He spoke of a ruthless man who had destroyed their lives. A man who wasted no time in attempting to blow them all up. A man who had laid down explosives just to prove a point. It was a story that just hadn’t made sense to Tommy.

Dream was a nice guy, and a friend. Sure he would tease and poke fun, but that didn’t change the fact that he meant well. It also didn’t make sense with what he had seen. After the duel, Tommy hadn’t seen Dream at all. If the stories Tubbo told were true, then it would have made sense for him to attack while he was unconscious or wounded.

Maybe… Maybe Dream was connected to what was happening to him? He knew that it was a stretch, but at this point he had no other leads. He just wanted to figure out what was going on and how he could leave.

He scanned the dark L’manberg property. Empty. Not a single torch or lantern was lit. Which meant… it was clear for him to make a run for it. He knew for a fact that none of his friends would support him going to visit the enemy. If they had any idea what he was trying to do, they would lock him inside the wooden shack until the nether froze over.

Quietly, he slipped out into the warm summer night. As quietly as he could, Tommy crept across the terrain to a small hole in the wall. He couldn’t go out the main entrance, it was completely caved in from the explosion. Trying to climb it would only end poorly.

He was nearly out of the L’manberg property when a voice cut through the silent night air. “Tommy? Where are you going?”

The teenager swore under his breath. Of course Wilbur was out here. He had even said earlier that he was going to try to keep watch. Tommy turned to where the voice had come from, and nearly shrieked. In the pale moonlight, Wilbur looked like a monster straight out of a story book. His eyes were blood-shot and puffy. Pale, almost translucent looking skin was stretched across his face. His cheeks were sunken in , giving him a ghostly appearance.

Tommy stepped closer to the older man, now feeling concerned more than anything “I was just… going for a walk…” he said, trying to make the lie sound convincing.

Wilbur scoffed. “At 2 in the morning? I thought you were supposed to be resting.” he raised an eyebrow

“I um… got better?” he responded, running his hand through his hair, “and I just wanted to go look around a bit… I’ve been inside for the past week.” he chuckles nervously

“Chugging 5 health potions if not enough to be considered ‘better,’ Tommy. I thought you already learned your lesson.” He made air quotes with his fingers to send his message across.

Tommy’s eyes widened “how did you…” his voice trailed off

His friend laughed at his confusion. “I saw you on the roof of the van earlier. No way would you have been able to make it up there if you were still injured. A quick check on our potion supply was all it took to confirm my suspicions.”

“W-well then you should know that I’m perfectly capable of going on there on my own! I’m healed up now!”

“Tommy, I don’t care how healed you are. You aren’t going out there on your own. Understood?”

Tommy’s jaw dropped open “What? Why the fuck not?”

“Because it's dangerous! Who knows what could happen to you if you went out there. Dream already tried to kill you once, who's to say that it won't happen again?”

“I can take care of myself! I’m not going to do anything stupid”

“Do you really expect me to believe that? You literally challenged Dream to a fucking duel while we tried negotiating peace treaties. If that isn’t idiotic then I don’t know what is.”

Tommy took a deep breath. Of course Wilbur didn’t trust him to go out on his own. Pretty much every other choice he had made was rash and dumb. Even if it had been mostly for the sake of entertainment in the real world, that wasn’t the case in this world. He was just a brash teenager here. “Will, I’ll be fine. I promise. I just need a chance to go and clear my head. We both know that I won’t get a chance to during the day.”

Wilbur closed his eyes, considering Tommy’s offer. He did understand where he was coming from. The L’manberg territory wasn’t that big, and it could feel suffocating at times. Besides, he needed to trust his second in command, didn’t he? “Fine. But I expect you to be back by dawn. And I want you to come back and report to me immediately if you see anything suspicious. Understood?”

He nodded, releasing a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding. “Of course,” he said, taking a step towards the hold in the wall. “Go get some rest Wilbur. You look terrible”

He shook his head “I’m fine. I just need to keep everyone safe”

“You can’t keep people safe if you’re passed out. Go rest. I’ll wake you up if I see anything.”

“... Fine. Just be careful” Wilbur stood and walked away from the tree he was sitting against. Tommy stared at his friend’s retreating figure for a moment, before walking out into the crisp summer night.

As soon as he knew Tommy had left, Wilbur turned and rushed towards the hole in the wall. Like hell was he going to let Tommy go off on his own. The kid was going to do something stupid with no one to back him up. Will wasn’t going to let that happen.

~~~

Dream stood in the training grounds above his home. With a wooden training sword in his hand, he attempted to practice some of the techniques that George had used earlier that day. God, why was he so fucking useless?

24 seconds. That was how long the longest bout had lasted. 24 seconds before Dream surrendered. It had taken George 4 different bouts before he had called it a day. Dream had refused. He begged his friend to teach him how to use the sword, making up some bull shit excuse about the lingering effects from the poison to justify it. He wanted to learn how to fight. After all, he was apparently the best at combat in the smp. It made sense. After all, he was a world record holder. So why on earth was he so useless?!

“Because its not a fucking game anymore,” he said out loud, frustration seeping into his voice. He was glad no one was around to hear him, or to see him stumbling around with the practice sword.

“Here I thought you were supposed to be good at PVP,” said a voice behind him. Tommy's voice… Dream whirled around, still holding the sword.

On one hand, he felt a rush of relief at the words. Tommy had survived. He was ok. But on the other, he was still the second in command of L’manberg. For all Dream knew, Tommy could have been sent to assassinate him. It was a theory that was only made more likely when he considered his failure from earlier that day. Wilbur had somehow heard about how weak and pathetic he had become, and sent Tommy to kill him while he couldn’t fight back.

Dream locked eyes with his friend. Tommy stood at the opposite side of the small training grounds, watching Dream practice. The teenager stepped onto the wooden floor and picked up one of the practice swords. He held it in his hand for a moment, before making a couple swings and stabs. He may not have fallen over, but he still looked like a dork.

Tommy let out a laugh, “This is so cool. This is so fucking cool!” he spun and pointed the sword at Dream. His face had a massive grin on it, making him look like a little kid. “Come at me bitch boy, I’ve got a knife! What are you gonna do about it!”

Dream raised an eyebrow. Tommy was acting as if he had never held a sword in his life. But that didn’t make sense. In this world, sword fighting seemed to be rather common. And Tommy had been rather skilled at minecraft PVP. That should have translated to his combat abilities in this world. So why was he acting like a 5 year old? “You act like you’ve never held a sword before,” Dream said.

Tommy stared at Dream, trying to gauge his reaction. He tried to figure out the best response. He had heard Dream muttering about it not being a game anymore, but that wasn’t nearly enough to risk revealing himself. So instead he pushed just a little more. “Says the one flailing around like a headless chicken. Aren’t you supposed to be the Minecraft god? Or are you just bad?”

Dream froze. No one had even mentioned the word Minecraft since he had arrived here. Whenever he tried bringing it up in conversation, his friends had just looked at him like he was crazy. But here Tommy was just saying it like it was nothing. “How do you-” he began to ask, but was cut off by the sound of metal.

Tommy’s eyes narrowed. Dream knew something. And he wasn’t sharing. In a single motion, he drew his netherite sword and pointed it at Dream’s throat. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his hand from trembling. Dream dropped his practice sword and raised his hands in the air. Tommy was seething with anger. “I fucking knew it! You stupid son of a bitch I knew you had something to do with this! What did you do to me?! Where am I?! Why can’t I go home?!”

“I-”

“What are you planning Dream? What are you trying to get out of this?” He growled.

“I don’t know!” Dream said desperately “I don’t know what's going on!”

“Bullshit! You’re the only one who’s even remotely reacted to something from the real world. You must know something!”

“Tommy I just want to go home!” Dream shouts “I don’t fucking belong here! Don’t you think if I knew how to leave, I would?!”

“Give me one good reason why I should believe you,” he said, stepping forward slightly so that the tip of the blade rested against Dream’s throat.

“Because you’re my friend!” he yelled. “If I knew how to help you, or what to do, then I would!”

Tommy considered Dream’s words. He had a point… the two of them were friends, weren’t they? Tommy should at least give him the courtesy of listening to his side of the story before jumping to any conclusions. Dream’s appearance only solidified his decision. His eyes were red and swollen from lack of sleep. He looked like he was in a similar condition to Wilbur. Except instead of stress and worry, Dream’s declining health was due to frustration and fear.

He lowered the blade to his side and stepped back. “Fine. I’ll believe you for now.” He looked down at his hand “When were you brought here?”

Dream let out a breath of relief. He knew that if Tommy had really wanted to, he could have run him through, no questions asked. And Dream didn’t even know how to defend himself. “About a week ago I think? It was during the bow duel…”

Tommy nodded. “Same. All I remember was being on the computer, and then suddenly I held a bow and had an arrow through my chest.”

Dream winced “Are you ok now at least? I’ve been really scared that I actually killed you…”

“Fine. I drank a couple health pots earlier today, so at least my wound is healed. It’s been more boring than anything else” he was silent for a moment, thinking. “Dream… How much do you know about the war?”

“Um, wasn’t it pretty much the same as it was in game?”

Tommy shook his head “No. According to Tubbo, it was so much worse here… Apparently the war has been going on for over half a year now. I guess the only reason everyone lasted so long was because they were constantly downing health and regen pots. But even so, I guess it was a bloodbath…” his voice trailed off, remembering the pained and weary expression on Tubbo’s face when he had talked about it.

“Are you serious…?”

“Yeah. Everyone back in L’manberg is terrified of you. They all despise you for what you’ve done to them. I guess the other you was a ruthless monster…”

The concerned look on Dream's face only grew more and more as Tommy continued talking. The two of them stood in silence once Tommy had finished. After a couple minutes of thinking, he finally spoke. “Tomorrow, I’ll be calling a council to negotiate a peace treaty. I’m going to put an end to this war, once and for all.”

Tommy nodded “that sounds… good. It’ll be nice to not have everyone look so fucking scared all the time” He glanced up at the moon in the sky. “I need to be heading back. Will is gonna be worried if I’m not back soon.”

“Oh yeah, isn’t it past your bedtime?” he asked with a chuckle

A smile broke out onto tommys face “I’ll have you know, I am far too old and mature for bedtimes.”

“Right. I’m sure that everyone would agree with that”

“Oh they most definitely would. After all, I’m the second in command to Wilbur! It takes a lot of maturity to do that.”

“Uh huh. Get going you freaking child”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of your stupidity!” Tommy called out as he walked away from Dream and back to L’manberg. For the first time since he had woken up, he felt actually hopeful. Hopeful that he would find a way home. Hopeful that maybe things would turn out ok. He grinned to himself as he jogged down the wooden path, mostly just grateful that he was no longer all alone.

~~~ Wilbur paced in his small room, trying to figure out what to do. The conversation between Tommy and Dream echoed in his mind. At first, he had been following Tommy to protect him and make sure he didn’t do anything rash. He had very nearly revealed himself to the teenager when he had approached the training grounds. But then he had heard him start to speak.

Tommy may have baited and attacked Dream at first, but then Dream had claimed to be a friend. Wilbur wasn’t sure what bothered him more. The fact that Dream was claiming to be an ally, or the fact that those words had caused Tommy to spare him. Just last week, Tommy had sworn to kill Dream, no matter what. Why on earth had he suddenly changed his mind?

Unless… Unless it was all an act. An act to get close to them, then stab them in the backs. No. No Tommy would never do that. There had to be some other explanation. Some other reasoning for his behavior.

Wilbur hadn’t heard the conversation after Tommy had spared Dream. He knew that he should have stayed, but he couldn’t bear watching his friend betray him. Better to live in the dark. He would just have to keep an eye on him. Yeah. Keep an eye on him, and make sure that he didn’t do anything to hurt them.

It would be fine. Everything would be fine.

~~~

“Look. If you’re here to ask about Tommy or Dream, then you can piss off. I came back to streaming for a break from all that,” Tubbo told his viewers. His eyes involuntarily drifted towards his other monitor, as they often did when he thinking about his missing friends. His second monitor was where he had Discord open. Where Tommy and Dream still sat in the main voice channel, completely silent. Neither of their families had the heart to turn off their computers, so they just sat there, exactly as they were before they vanished. Tubbo liked to sit in the vc whenever he was streaming. Something about it was… comforting to him. He wasn’t sure why.

His attention was drawn back to the stream chat by a donation. It was filled with questions about his missing friends.

He let out a groan of frustration. “All right, we’re going on sub only mode for a bit. I can’t deal with this shit right now. Thanks mods,” he told the chat, “I know, I know, I don’t like it either. But I just can’t deal with questions about them right now. Sorry guys.”

That was when it happened. A rustling sound. A voice very quietly saying, “what the…”

Tubbo frowned in confusion. “Can you guys hear that? Or is it just me?” he asked.

That was when he heard it. Tommy's voice. Tommy’s voice coming in from the discord vc. All he said were two words. “Hello? Tubbo?”

The stream went offline.

~~~

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jxmieswxnter · 3 years

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Ayo, it's me again

Do you think you could just throw in all the Dan x Charlie theories/headcanons you have? I don't care if it takes entire days I just want my boys

hello hello, ask and you shall receive (I will definitely leave stuff out because I have no brain...) also linking other ScottNelson posts here and here and here

Dan x Charlie headcanons

Dan is stationed in Liverpool and Charlie in Exeter and so they have to do long distance for a while until Charlie transfers up to Merseyside and they move in together, with Dan’s rescue cat of course

Charlie gets promoted to DI after three years in Merseyside and gets his own sergeant - Dan’s serg and Charlie’s serg get along well and gossip about them behind their backs

they have a pet bird together and Dan keeps teaching it to curse and Charlie keeps telling Dan off about it

plants, and Charlie names them all

both Harry Potter nerds

Dan is bi, and Charlie is demisexual and gay

lots of forehead kisses

Charlie will let Dan shave him

they keep their relationship on the down low for a while, but that’s just a personal preference

Charlies gets Dan into skincare

both have hayfever and so spring time sucks, but Charlie is a good boy and takes allergy meds while Dan often forgets

Dan is like a human furnace which is great in winter when Charlie gets cold

Charlie will steal Dan’s jackets and hoodies

stargazing

hiking

cinema on the back row, holding hand and feeding each other popcorn

Dan bringing Charlie flowers just because he wants too, and knows his favourites are sunflowers

go to Liverpool Pride together

Lengthier DxC headcanons/moments

Long distance was particularly rough for them because Charlie was undercover for a good chunk of time. Dan’s contact with him was limited to whatever phone calls Charlie was allow to make. It was rough of course, and sometimes they’d fight on the phone, which always cut the calls short and both would feel guilty because they’d waisted their limited time together. Happened more than once, but that’s just how things go sometimes.

Charlie is shot because his cover is blown. Dan finally gets to see him but he wished it wasn’t like that. Dan hightails it down South and lives with Charlie while he recovers. Dan isn’t used to having to look after somebody and Charlie isn’t used to being so useless, but it’s nice that they get to spend some time together after practically a year with minimal contact. Is a lot to handle, but it’s good.

Dan, as an orphan, doesn’t really have any family. He grew up in foster care and never really bonded with any of them. Charlie has a brother and both his parents, and all have been fairly supportive of him. When Charlie takes Dan home - one of only two partners Charlie has ever let his parents meet - Dan is swept up with how welcoming they are of him, how genuinely nice and curious they are able him. And he gains a little family from Charlie’s side.

Also gets a family with the other Sergeants. He’d met Gavin briefly but that was it, so it’s nice when he runs into him again and they get chatting. All five of them get together for lunch, and while Dan is a little nervous - as is Charlie but he hides it better - everything turns out alright. They all get along, have a group chat going too. Jamie keeps them all up to date on the dumb things John’s still doing and cute pictures of Betty too.

Charlie has, at least twice, come into the station in the early morning to release Dan from a cell, having decked someone the night before for something homophobic. Dan’s a lot better than he used to be in terms of anger issues, and if someone’s insulting him, he usually just lets it go, but if he sees young people being the target of abuse, or Charlie, he will intervene. He’ll always try to stop is calmly first, but will deck someone if need be. And Charlie wants to be mad, he doesn’t condone violence, but honestly, he kind of love that Dan will stick up for people if they can’t do it themselves. “Really Dan? Again?” “What? He deserved it. Was picking on this kid.” “You didn’t have to punch him.” “No, but I did, and I don’t regret it.”

#midsomer murders #dan scott #charlie nelson #dan scott x charlie nelson #scottnelson

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pollenat · 3 years

Text

NCT 127 Returning to you from the war

➛ Note: Inspired by American war movies, so I had the times of World War II in mind while writing this. This is in no way meant to romanticize war. I wanted to focus on the reunion part - something that I do consider romantic. Some are lighter, some are more serious. All according to my imagination.

TAEIL

The waiting was the worst. Surrounded by a large crowd of people similar to you - impatiently expecting the train to appear - you felt small and useless. The vehicle’s interior possessed something of the utmost value to you, a part of your heart, and so with each passing minute the half that remained kept beating quicker as if it could feel the other coming closer. Your chest was about to get torn apart by the strength of gravity pulling you to your celestial body, Moon Taeil. Somewhere someone yelled, somewhere else another person sobbed and you couldn’t decide whose behavior fitted your feelings better.

As soon as the train stopped on the station, people started pillowing each other, everyone trying to climb the living pile of human beings. Your own best bet was a metal fence just asking to be climbed. Hands glued to the railing, you watched over heads of different shapes and sizes. The sobs and screams raised in volume. Men dressed in green rolled out of the train’s exit. They were too far away for you to make out their features. Somewhere in the back of your head a voice was telling you that it’d be impossible to miss Taeil, and yet, the minutes passed and no man reminded you of him. People screamed, either from happiness or relief. Some more impatient spectators tried pushing through the crowd. The living wall turned out to be too thick.

“Bobby!” an elderly woman screamed from somewhere to your right. Startled, your eyes darted in the direction to find reunited mother and son.

Someone laughed warmly next to you. A strange, but familiar voice. In a state of shock, you looked back, to where Taeil stood to your left. He was smiling widely. His cheeks were hollow. One of them had a razor cut on it. His right hand landed on your back. He seemed awkward, unsure how to react to your frozen state. A thumb rubbed your back.

“Taeil!” Perhaps an eternity passed before you realized.

You jumped off the railing and straight into his unprepared embrace. Taeil had to take a step back under your weight, but your tight hug made sure to keep him in place. You were both much weaker versions of yourselves, compared to how you were two years before. But with adrenaline pumping your blood, your arms gained something of a superhuman strength.

“So you were waiting for me after all?” He teased, but his strengthening arms told you just how relieved he was to see you. And you understood. Joking was his way of dealing with tension.

“How did you find me? I was searching for you in the crowd and couldn’t spot you.” Neither of you weakened the grip.

“You were sitting on a railing. Of course I noticed you.” His voice came out muffled, as he hid face in the side of your neck.

Someone elbowed you while pushing through the crowd, and you cringed in Taeil’s hold. His head quickly left the hiding place, as if to tell the stranger off. You saw a rare grimace of detestation decorating usually gentle features. But he didn’t snap at the woman who paid you no mind. Instead, he pulled you to the exit, arms still circled around your features.

“Let’s get out of here, hm? I’m never looking at a train again.”

“Even when we go on holidays?” Taeil looked at your face, the remnants of grimace now nowhere to be seen.

“Ask me again in a week.” Although people were screaming and weeping in the background, you heard his laughter loud and clear.

JOHNNY

Someone called for you. Busy cleaning your shelves, you welcomed the new distraction with a sigh. The past few weeks you’ve been doing nothing, but keeping yourself busy. Anything would do, as long as it kept your head away from the contents of the letter. The last one Johnny has sent you, two months before. You’ve written him back twice, and neither of the messages were answered.

Conclusion seemed obvious, though you’ve never received the bad news. You were kept in the dark, and you’ve welcomed it with last bits of hope that he’d return soon.

With one last glance at the room, you walked downstairs.

“There’s a package for you at the doorstep.”

“And you couldn’t just pick it up?” Your sibling smiled a little, though they quickly bit their lips to hide it. “What are you being so weird about?”

Opening the door, you expected a postman in his dark blue uniform. Not someone dressed in dark green and reminding you of a familiar face. A tall silhouette with wide shoulders and a flirty smile. It quickly dropped the teasing facade to spread into a wide sign of genuine happiness.

“Get it? I’m the package!” You didn’t, but stunned into silence, you could barely understand what was happening.

Johnny brought you to his chest, cheek to cheek, as he hummed happily to himself. As if he had a melody on mind, trying to lull you into sleep. You’d eventually wake up and realize that he was just a dream, because though you hoped, you were sure he was dead.

“You always laugh at my jokes, what’s with you today?”

“Pinch me.”

“What?” Johnny looked at you as if you had lost your mind. But who knew, maybe you did.

“Pinch me.”

“Babe- This is pretty public-”

“On my face.”

“Ah, alright I guess.” Two of his fingers pressed at your skin, signaling your brain through the nerves that indeed, you were awake, and Johnny was very much alive. Even more! Standing in front of you!

“Why would you scare me like that?”

“You asked me to pinch you-”

“No, I meant the letters! You didn’t answer!”

“You see, it was the element of surprise.”

“You and your surprises!” You mumbled against his skin, now returning the embrace with newfound strength. “I thought you were dead.”

Johnny calmed under your tight grip, mumbling sorry’s back to you. It was as if you were writing new letters, now on each other’s skin with whispers and few happy tears. Your hands crawled around his silhouette, forming a picture before you could take a good look at him. To be honest, the picture didn’t matter, just the fact of him being with you.

TAEYONG

It took you a few weeks, but eventually you got used to the woman’s chatter. She’d tell you about her war theories, what her youngest did when she wasn’t around, what her husband liked to eat for dinner. She needed to talk, and you just nodded every now and then, asked a question when something she said was actually interesting. The polite atmosphere had to be upheld - you were working right next to one another. There was no place for feuds.

“I’ve heard some of the boys are already returning.” The woman told you. She was standing behind as you fixed the threads.

“Sounds too good to be true.” Had the machine turned on a second earlier, you’d have had one finger less. “Shit.”

“Have you got someone returning? I hope they let my oldest out.” She made no comment regarding the almost-an-accident. After all, it was just another day at the factory - things happened. Someone in a row in front of yours has even lost a leg. But that was just an unpleasant memory at this point.

“Yeah, I do have someone.”

She kept insisting on sharing that part of your life with her, but you didn’t know what else to tell her. It’s been months since your last letter from Taeyong. At that point, you were trying to get used to the thought that the news could have been bad. But they’d have told you, wouldn’t they? The possibilities were hard to gulp down, and so you returned to work.

Not long after, a wave of talking disturbed the production hall. You dropped the shears and looked around, trying to catch whatever made everyone so talkative all of sudden. Down the corridor, made in between stations, you caught a glimpse of green, so uncharacteristic for the browns and grays that workers wore. The green moved down, closer to your row. It had a spring to its step, an enthusiasm of a child.

You abandoned the material in another hand, now curious who had the courage to pass the factory’s gates. Silence took over the hall, and echoing steps joined a duet with the machines. It was coming closer and closer, until from behind the ragged material, a face appeared. Big eyes placed on thin features. An excitement written all over bitten lips.

“Taeyong?” Hardly believing it to be him, you didn’t call aloud. The woman you worked next to walked to your side.

“He’s yours?” You didn’t answer, eyes stuck on him only. It was as if you tried to find a reason not to believe in his existence. A flaw that would tell you it was all just a hallucination. It made no sense for him to be there - neither the place, nor the timing was right.

When he met your gaze, it was as if someone turned the lights on. Everything became clear. His cheeks spread under the weight of a smile. The spring turned into a run, and soon enough, your limp body was locked by a key to it all - Taeyong.

“You’re back.” You stated the obvious. Taeyong pulled away to look at your bewildered face. A shadow of doubt clouded his forehead, as if your disapproval was a possibility. “Oh fuck, you’re back.”

He didn’t answer, there was no time for him to do so. As soon as you swore, you pulled him back to you. The hollowness he left filled once again. This time, hopefully, for good.

YUTA

“Have you seen him?” A friend asked you. Reading through a wrinkled newspaper, you almost didn’t catch their words. But the question’s sense was enough to bring your heartbeat to speed up.

“Seen who?”

“Oh, come on!” They grabbed the paper straight out of your hands to hide it behind their back. “You know I’m talking about Yuta. Everybody knows about the two of you!”

That’s a story from two years before, when the man mentioned was just a neighborhood’s troublemaker and no soldier. And it’s not like there was any depth to you and Yuta. He has clearly shown it by the lack of communication you’ve suffered. Yes, there was never a label put on the you two, so distancing yourself from the mess would’ve been a logical thing to do. But somehow, as the time passed, you felt longing. You missed his teasing, dirty jokes, flirty smile, and just the sight of that beautiful face of his.

“And what exactly do they know about the two of us?” The friend opened their mouth. “There’s nothing to know, because we’re nothing.”

“So, like you didn’t send each other steamy love letters or something?”

The question made you laugh, partially because of the bluntness, partially out of bitterness. No letters. No communication. Nothing. You didn’t even know he came back.

“No? Search my drawers if you want to. There’s not a single thing with Yuta written on it.”

“Oh, come on!” You turned to play with the fountain’s cold water. Despite the gloomy aftermath of the war and a busy everyday, you’ve found some time to celebrate the Summer. “(y/n)-”

You hummed at them to continue, but no words came out. Irritated by their silence, despite the clear sign for continuation, you looked up to see them staring at the space behind you.

A pair of hands landed on your shoulders, joined by a scream meant to scare you. Surprised (alright, terrified), you were quick to turn around. The person responsible was none other, but Yuta himself. So he really was back.

His wide smile shone next to the Sun, a welcoming gift he offered you. One of his hands remained on your shoulder, as if it was completely okay to touch an almost-stranger like that.

“Look who’s that.” Yuta turned to the side, his smile turning cold at your friend. His head motioned for them to leave. They were quicker than your reaching hand - abandoned you alone with the man as if that was okay. Yuta sat down next to you on the fountain’s edge. “My favorite neighbor.”

“Oh, am I? Do you even know my name?” But he didn’t grow annoyed at your tone. If anything, your words have made him even happier.

“So you did miss me!”

“Why would I miss you?”

“Because I’m me and you’re crazy in love with this guy.” There he motioned at himself. “

“We’re not even friends, so relax. Welcome home, or whatever.”

Yuta was watching as you stood up and walked away. As far away from him as possible. That meant few meters, until he caught up to you and pulled you through the bushes to a small private space. Somewhere you’ve used to meet. His arms circled around your waist, but you didn’t stop him.

“Don’t be mad now. I needed to see whether you’d miss me.” “I mean two years is enough to get over someone.” “And did you?” “Hm? “Did you get over me?”

You had no answer to that. Because yes, you still felt it. Your silence was enough for Yuta. His grip tightened and he pulled you closer to his face.

“It’s alright. I didn’t get over you either.”

DOYOUNG

After a couple of days of constant rainfall, you’ve forgotten what a sunny day looked like. The gray sky has loomed over your head as if in sync with your anxious thoughts. A companion to your walks in the mornings and evenings. At least it has somehow made you less alone. If you were sad, then the world was too.

The Sun’s return felt like a promise. Things were going to be okay. Eventually, hopefully. Its rays woke you up and walked you home, a substitute companion. It has taken over the gray sky’s role, but did better. The blinding sunlight was drawing a smile on your face with its warmth. It carried your body in a light step, made it take up a longer route home.The world seemed much more enjoyable than it really was.

The house you’ve lived in stood in its place. The white wall now slightly yellow, while the light bounced off of the windows. It felt like a proper home. Like it’d shield you from the doubts and wrongs of real life.

Stepping inside, you caught the sound of your grandmother’s voice. She didn’t tell you about a guest, did she? You were in no state to appear in front of others. Your shirt had a dry oil stain on it.

“Oh, it must be (y/n)!” She sounded excited. “Where have you been for so long?!”

Her voice was floating from the dining room, and so you headed towards it, right after taking off a bit too tight pair of shoes. There was no escaping now that she heard you making a ruckus in the hallway. The guest would have to deal with your tragic state.

“At work! Where else-”

There, in front of the old woman, was a male silhouette. A thin and tall person with wide shoulders. His shoes were black and tatty on the tips. Trousers were somehow too long, so their dirty ends pooled behind his heels. The jacket could use some proper ironing, but it didn’t matter because your eyes reached where the collar made space for the neck. A pointy chin, opened lips, hollow cheeks, the tip of a nose and finally, the dark eyes.

A long year has passed since the last time you’ve heard him say your name. It was hoarse, filled with disbelief and quiet. Nevertheless you could hear him well.

“Doyoung?” He closed the distance, never looking away from you.

His arms have always been strong, but now you could feel more muscles than fat. His cheeks, although always slender, were now sunken, dark. He smelled of sweat - his favorite cologne nowhere to be found. Hugging him didn’t feel the same to what you were used to, but you were more than ready to make new customs.

“Why didn’t you let me know you were coming back?” He leaned back, so you could look at one another.

One of hands let go to wipe a smudge of oil off your cheek.

“It was meant to be a surprise.”

“You big old goof.” He faked a frown. Faked, because his wide smile couldn’t be hidden.

JAEHYUN

Hugging yourself tightly, you scanned the crowd in search of the promised land, or at least the one Jaehyun has told you about before he was shipped off to fight for the country.

From all you remembered, it had dark eyes, a handsome face and strong arms. The rest was an unknown you were willing to find out, had it been the same as you’ve seen it last, or different, as an effect of its stay. Frankly, you didn’t care how much he has changed - you just wanted him back.

Someone ran past you, screaming incoherently. The motion of a person moving so close made you take a step back, straight into a stranger’s chest. Or maybe not a stranger’s.

“Sor- Jaehyun!” He laughed, proud of his little prank. “How long have you been standing here?”

“For quite some time? I was waiting until you’d realize.”

There was a desire to punch him in the shoulder, but you busied your hands with embracing him instead. It was even better than getting an offended yelp out of him. Although you’ve been crying over how little you remember of his hugs, having him in your hold again made every fact came back. The way he liked your hands the best. How long he needed the embraces to last. Where his nose needed to hide, before he could sigh happily.

Jaehyun promised you a land you were looking forward to, but knew all about.

The only surprise was a weird texture of his skin at the back of his neck. One of your fingers played with it when the man in your hold shivered. The time for welcoming embraces ended.

“What was that?”

“Ah, nothing.” Jaehyun looked to the side, but as soon as he realized that it was like showing you the place he didn’t want to uncover, he put his arm there.

None of his tactics worked. The redness of burns ended at his jawline. You could see it clear as day.

“Don’t be weird about it. I can see your scars.”

Jaheyun groaned in frustration, changing sides so you couldn’t see a thing. He stood in stubborn silence, waiting for the end of whatever he thought needed to end. Nobody spoke for some time, until you couldn’t hold it in any longer and asked “Are you that ashamed of them?”.

“Am I still handsome with them?” His question was a laughing matter. How could a scar make him any less beautiful? “What are you laughing at?”

“Haven’t you heard that scars are considered very attractive?”

Jaehyun looked back at you. The arm he was using to hide his neck dropped to the side, and he seized your body questioningly, as if there was an answer to all the things that bothered him. Well- who knows? Maybe there was?

“Are they? I thought that was just a myth, you know, to make people feel better.”

You smiled teasingly, looping fingers at the edges of his belt.

“Well, I would most certainly disagree with that being a myth.”

He nodded, considering your words. At a silent question of your raised eyebrow, Jaehyun exhaled, grabbed one of your hands, and pulled you towards the station’s exit.

WINWIN

Sicheng stood in his bedroom with an expression one could only call unreadable. He felt weird without his uniform, regular trousers and shirt irritating his tormented body. They should be his solace, solid ground to stomp on with the war behind him. And yet the material was an unwelcome texture that covered the visible marks of his maturity. He wasn’t a boy anymore, like his room presented - with its childish wallpaper and a small collection of toys placed neatly on the shelf. Sicheng was a man raised by the military. If there had been something he was the best at, it would be shooting and carrying out the orders.

That’s partially why he was wary of coming face to face with his old life. Realizing how twisted he had to be now in comparison to his younger self was something he wanted to avoid. Of course, he failed the task as sentiment took over him as soon as he saw his plastic horses on shelves. But the picture he was now looking at, tucked in the frame of the big mirror, was even more overwhelming. He didn’t remember why it stayed at home instead of being in his pockets through it all. The nervousness of leaving must’ve made him forget about it.

After a longer moment of hesitation, his hand abandoned the safety of his thigh to grab the photograph and look at it from a smaller distance. Slick paper was aging quickly, but Sicheng couldn’t find it in himself to curse whoever did such a poor job for the large amount of money he had to pay. You were smiling fondly at him from the picture, and he imagined you doing the same once he would see you. Sadly, doubt had a strange habit of returning to him so often these past few years that the dreams of your grin quickly turned into ones blurred by his own tears. What could await him by your side?

Both excitement and dread pushed him to leave his house behind and ride a bus to find out how disturbing the reality was. Many things stayed the same, like the raw walls of your flat’s corridor or the depth of your neighbor’s wrinkles. Only little things changed and yet they were difficult to spot.

In front of the old doors he had second thoughts and was close to turning around. As soon as he did that, his usually steady hands let go of the bouquet of flowers, and he made too much noise gathering them together.

The entrance behind him was opening in sync with his legs straightening, so when he stood up, your eyes were already watching his. In all honesty, he expected you to look alien, as if it was the first time he has ever seen you. But it was completely different. You were familiar in every possible aspect of existing. The changes were like in your surroundings - little, invisible to someone that didn’t know you as well as Sicheng did. The man in front of you could instantly point out the difference in your hair’s length, a new scar decorating your face, how thin you’ve become thanks to the harsh years of war... All of these brought him both sadness and happiness. Sadness, because you were affected and happiness, because the memory that kept him sane at night was identical to the reality.

He was so lost in the sight of you, he didn’t even notice how strange he looked to you, although your face was an open book just for him to read. Maybe if he had noticed, he would lose all of his courage and eventually escape the daunting atmosphere.

“Hey.” He managed to say in the softest of tones that remained the same even after the war. His hand gripping the ruined bouquet of flowers shot in your direction to offer the small gift. “It’s been a while.”

His words sounded so dumb to you, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to hold the laughter back. Not at them, but rather from happiness you felt. Sicheng smiled shyly when your fingers skimmed his meanwhile taking the flowers. One could say that you were magnets - naturally pulling towards one another after just a simple exchange of touches.

In your embrace, he didn’t think about the doubt, he thought about you. Just you in general. Happy, teary-eyed, with harsh hands and soft kisses, in your lowest low but on the cloud nine as soon as he returned into the picture. How could he feel doubt when your salty lips were endlessly smooching his dimples?

JUNGWOO

Your first thought seeing the boy you used to know, was just a confirmation that somehow you’ve lost any certainty about him.

Kim Jungwoo has changed in almost every possible aspect. There were shadows of wrinkles on his forehead. Hair that he used to wear long was still short from the army. Cheeks, usually full and pushed to the sides by a genuine smile, were now thin and falling in on themselves. Lips looked pale. Though you couldn’t see their texture, you knew they had to be dry. Only his eyes remained somehow similar as they held the last bits of innocence. Brown orbs were swinging between focus and the lack of it, easily getting distracted by the simplest things. Jungwoo’s body language was similar - he would either attempt the bad-boy-leaning-against-a-counter pose or catch himself returning to standing straight as his head turned to look at something. Two men that he was with were bent over their drinks, talking to one another without paying too much attention to their third companion.

“Is this really Kim Jungwoo?” A friend spilled her blond locks on the table as she positioned herself to take a better look at the young man in question. “My my, hasn’t he changed a lot?”

Her wide eyes turned to yours. The message she was trying to send you wasn’t clear. What did she expect you to say in return?

“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m a little surprised too.”

“A little? You’ve been basically drooling for at least ten minutes now.” Blonde slapped your arm teasingly. “But hey, not judging. Little Jungwoo sure turned into a dreamboat.”

Embarrassed by her words, you turned your head away. You were unwilling to admit she was right. Because yes, the innocent boy that has always been incredibly shy, changed into an attractive man with confidence radiating off of his body. You couldn’t accept the change both in him and the way your own eyes were yearning to look at his features.

When his eyes met yours, you froze in the seat, a sheepish smile turning into a straight line. Jungwoo didn’t wait. A wide smile blossomed on his face, and he instantly walked over.

Without anything else to do, your gaze landed on Jungwoo’s on. He must have been as shocked as you by the chance meeting. His lips were parted and thick eyebrows have risen high up. None of them overshadowed an evident smile.

“Jungwoo!” Your friend sang from the spot next to you.

The young man spared her a single glance as he welcomed her, but quickly returned to stare at your face. You could feel the knowing gaze your friend was giving you. After few awkward seconds of some sort of a staring contest, she elbowed you to do something.

“Maybe you should go and catch up?” The girl offered with clenched teeth.

Startled, you finally pushed yourself up and out of the crowded booth to stand next to Jungwoo. Slightly intimidated by his bold gaze, you asked “Want to go for a walk?”

The laughter he answered with was bold and confident, but Kim Jungwoo wasted no time in offering you his arm.

“Happily.”

MARK

The first thing his sleepy features did, was frown. The headache was painful, but seconds later it left, as he remained frozen in place. You wouldn’t have noticed, had it been not for your position. His face was in your peripheral vision, just above the book you were reading.

It came out of nowhere. Nobody knew when he’d wake up. All you had to do was wait, because he could breathe. As a very tired doctor has repeated to you every day - time was the best remedy. And so you waited. The fact that he finally woke up? You didn’t believe it. Frozen in place, unsure whether to stay or call for a nurse, you waited. If the time was the best remedy, then it had to be the best judge as well.

Mark’s eyelashes fluttered before he allowed the world inside. As soon as he did, he closed them as well. On and off again, he blinked rapidly, trying to get used to the light. The book closed in your hands. His nose scrunched. Fingers straightened at his sides. An inaudible voice told you to reach for them, but you gripped the book tighter instead.

“Is he waking up?” You looked back at one of the five men that were all locked inside the hospital’s room. His left arm was gone, but it didn’t stop him from looking positively at the world. Every then and now he’d busy you with a small talk, and you’ve grown sympathetic towards him.

“Yes.” Upon turning back towards Mark, his dark eyes met yours. His face didn’t change an expression, but you knew he recognized you. Something about the sparks in his eyes that every author loved to bring up.

A small smile of relief blossomed on your features. The spreading warmth told you - it’s going to be alright now. If Mark had woken up, then he had been on the road to fast recovery.

“Hi.” You knelt down by the side of his bed. The corner of a nightstand pressed painfully at your body, but you wanted to be as close to Mark as possible.

Still sleepy, with eyes half-closed, he smiled back. His hand moved a little in your direction, but it was too weak to reach it. Not the one to deny him, you beat the distance yourself, transporting his hand to your face. It felt cold against your cheek.

“Hi.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Hmm-” a yawn blocked him for a moment. “Tired.” His voice was hoarse, as expected from someone who has slept for almost a week.

“That’s alright. You’ve been out of it for quite some time-”

“Have I? How long?”

“Six days.”

“Ouch.”

His reaction made you giggle quietly, and his small frown was quickly replaced by another smile. You couldn’t stop yourself from placing a comforting kiss on his forehead. Mark watched you silently, his eyes still glossy.

“I should go and call the nurse. They need to give you a good check, now that you’re awake.”

“You’re going?” He looked as if you have kicked his puppy. Fingers attempted to lock around your hand, but it was fruitless. Mark was weak, and he couldn’t even hold a limb up.

“I’ll be right back.” Before he could say anything more, you left. Although aware that nothing felt real, you didn’t want to start the topic of war. The time would come. For now, you’d like to act as if it has never happened.

HAECHAN

The concrete blocks felt hot under the palms of your hands. Compared to the pleasant warmth seeping through your trousers, the firsthand contact felt like touching lava. You wouldn’t have known, but you could only guess it had to be as painful.

The radio speaker has been repeating all day, like a mantra, the weather was a gift at the end of the war. You didn’t feel like the hotness was any sort of a gift, though you haven’t decided yet, whether you loved it or not. The last year was nothing, but a series of undecided opinions. Lonely, watching as your entire neighborhood disappeared, you felt like the whole world has died. Now, all that remained just broken shells of tortured souls.

You remembered the past. The games of hide and seek, limited only by the crossroads at the ends of your street. Stolen cigarettes smoked behind the closest factory. Rumors repeated every time you saw someone, because there was not much happening in the lives of teenagers stuck in their little world.

The noise of an engine filled the street’s void. A woman hanging laundry on a balcony on the other side of the street, looked down to search for its source. Your head turned too, but the hotness bouncing off of the asphalt made it impossible for you to make the features out. Only one thing was sure - a car was coming your way. You didn’t want to stand up for nothing, so you placed hands on your feet as if to nail them to the ground.

“Where is the orchestra? Where are the balloons?”

It couldn’t be- could it? He had to be a mirage. The last time you saw Lee Donghyuck was a year ago, when he sneaked into your bedroom in the middle of the night. The next morning he was supposed to leave for the war, so he decided to kiss you goodbye. One small kiss that tasted of cigarettes was all you remembered him for. And his striped pajamas. A stark contrast to his current green uniform.

The man jumped off the car’s back and waved at the driver to go. The other man honked before pressing the accelerator on.

“You won’t even stand up to welcome me?” His words made you push yourself up.

For some reason, although he stood in front of you, real, he didn’t feel right. There had to be a hook, a switch that would make him fade away into oblivion once the wrong motion was made. You wanted to believe in him, but the loneliness you experienced has left a mark on your mind.

“What’s up with you?” He took your sunglasses off. “Oh, you’re so happy to see me, I left you speechless, right?” A brilliant and cocky smile lightened up his features.

Stuck in a loop of opening and closing your mouth, because you had so much and, simultaneously, so little to say, you never answered. Instead, your eyes wandered around his face, taking in all the signs of change that the past months have left on him.

Donghyuck was missing an ear. Where your eyes were used to seeing a shell-like organ, there was nothing. Your fingers reached for the empty spot and rubbed at the still delicate skin.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Although he tried to sound brave, you caught the glimpse of uncertainty in his voice.

He has rarely shown insecurity, so the idea of experiencing that new part of his- Perhaps the whole idea of being able to experience him, made you finally smile.

“It’s super cool.”

“Yeah, I know. Captain said I will be getting a medal for my service.”

Laughing to yourself, because that was such a dumb thing to worry about in the present moment, you embraced Donghyuck’s frame. He returned it instantly, locking his arms so tightly around you, it hurt. But- You know what? There was no but. You accepted the embrace laughing.

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios

#that moment when instead of doing what you must do you scroll down to your oldest draft and finish it #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop fanfiction #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct au #nct fanfiction #nct x reader #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 au #nct 127 fanfiction #pollenat's scenarios

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lethendralis-paints · 3 years

Note

Hey Lethy,

Hopefully this is the last question for awhile. As I learn the basics of drawing people I’m starting to think about art style. I guess I’m having a hard time finding something I want to model(?) mine after. I see multiple art styles I really love. Some more cartoony and others more realistic like yours. But I’ve also been crazy over the art style in Hades. There are too many I really like. But I’m also worried I might not be able to change it if I don’t like it. That probably sounds crazy though.

I guess I’m asking how do you pick.

Thanks again for so much help!

Heya, anonymous friend!

Oooooh, that’s an awesome question and one I’ve been mulling over myself a lot!

Long-winded answer and ramblings are under the cut.

1) Artistic style musings.

After careful consideration, I came to the conclusion I was being held back in my progress for years due to unconsciously imitating anime style of drawing, just by virtue of me watching a lot of it in my formative years and drawing fan art. I never had formal artistic education, so it was up to me to get a grip, kick my own ass and sit down and study the fundamentals properly.

Which is exactly what I’ve been doing in the last couple of years (you can observe the progression if you skim my blog here btw).

A seasoned professional artist told me, without mincing words, that you should first get a firm understanding of fundamentals - perspective, figure drawing drawing from reference, understanding how light works, values and so on, before attempting stylisation, or else, in their own words, you’ll end up on shit street in terms of style. And I tend to agree with this thought, as no amount of flashy stylisation will be able to hide one’s lack of understanding of basic principles of drawing.

One mistake that me and countless other beginner artists made, was focusing too much on polishing a fundamentally flawed drawing in hopes of making it better. And the harsh truth is, no amount of detailing and hours of blending or shading will make up for botched proportions, lack of perspective or unsorted values. :/

So, personally, I don’t worry much about style yet and just focus on learning the basics. As soon as I started to do that, genuine improvement began and my own recognisable style began to from on its own, which I’m proud of. Have you noticed the same happening in your own studies, I wonder?

2) Hades game - I really like that game’s style as well. But if you look closely, this heavy stylised approach is grounded on solid knowledge of anatomy, composition, colour theory and so on. If you try to copy without knowing why the artists working on that game made these particular stylistic choices, you’ll end up with a blander version of their drawings. Keep in mind, that different stylistic choices apply to different themes. What works for comic book hero art is completely useless in, say, portraiture. So sticking to it will inevitably limit your visual vocabulary. So, again, working on studying drawing fundamentals is key to developing a versatile toolset as an artist (sorry for being boring and hammering this point down).

3) Picking a style - for now, if you noticed, I have 2 or 3 stylistic approaches I switch between while working. Heavily stylised, sketchy/cartoony one for when I doodle for fun, like here:

A detailed and clean storybook illustration style, which is my personal comfort zone, as I find it very pleasurable and relaxing to do character design and render all of the small details:

And a painterly style that’s not dependent on line art, but more on capturing forms, proportions and values right and one that challenges me the most:

Hope that was helpful! Do remember that you can always jump into my DM’s or on Discord to talk art more, as it makes me very happy to share what I’m learning!

#long post #Anonymous #ask lethy a question #developing an art style

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im-justso-bored · 4 years

Text

Week 8 of Clown Theories and Analysis

S3E08: Are You Leading or Am I?

Oh man, what a finale. I went through so many emotions, that was a ride! I’m gonna try to keep this one a bit shorter than the others. I just really want to touch on the main themes for this season and how they led up to this finale.

Freedom

Family

So instead of going scene by scene like I usually do, I’m gonna touch on our four main characters: Konstantin, Carolyn, Eve, and Villanelle.

Konstantin - So it seems like Konstantin’s true loyalties are to himself which is seen and mentioned a lot in this season. It seemed, especially in seasons 1 and 2, Konstantin had a loving relationship with his family. We don’t really see much of his relationship with his wife but we do with Irina in the season 1 finale.

it went from this:

Irina defending Konstantin.

To this:

Seasons 1 and 2, Konstantin seemed to genuinely care and look after his family, putting them before himself. But somewhere between season 2 and 3, he becomes solely focused on saving his own ass. Even going so far as to leaving Irina locked up. I don’t think season 1 or 2 Konstantin would have done that, even when his life was on the line in season 1, he risked it to get Irina back which led to him being shot. But all Konstantin is concerned with in season 3 is staying alive, therefore putting himself before his family.

This begs the question, deep down, was he always like that? It definitely didn’t seem like it in the first two seasons so was it what ever happened in between seasons 2 and 3 after getting his family back? I wonder if they’ll ever dive into that and give better clarity on why Konstantin has changed so much.

Outside of his family however, it does seem like normal behavior for Konstantin to betray everyone around him: Carolyn, Eve, Villanelle. We’ve seen it all multiple times. I’m glad that Villanelle say that too, when it really came down to it.

Villanelle experienced Konstantin’s betrayal firsthand and seeing him do it again to someone else he claims to have loved, made her decision to not save him all the more clear. That’s who he is and he can’t ever be trusted. Family or not, Konstantin chooses freedom and himself first.

Carolyn - So I think I found a reason for Geraldine lol she’s still useless plot-wise but she does fit the family theme that’s prevalent in this season. We see each of our main characters dealing with their family dynamics in different ways and for Carolyn, that’s losing Kenny and now being stuck with Geraldine. Which I think highlights just how compatible (in their own way) her and Kenny were.

This scene here really captures that dynamic.

“You were your father’s. And Kenny was mine.”

Carolyn is who she is and always will be just as Geraldine is the same. And it seemed to work well when Geraldine had her father and Kenny had her mother. Which is normal (although I’d say it’s a bit more extreme in the show), there’s usually a daddy’s girl/boy or a mommy’s girl/boy. Whether you’re one or the other, doesn’t mean the other one doesn’t care or love the same. But because of that and just how different Geraldine and Carolyn are, it created a dynamic that felt forced or without love. Which isn’t necessarily true.

It’s understandable that Geraldine would want to connect with the last of her family that she has left but instead of meeting Carolyn in the middle, she was constantly too much which is the exact opposite of Carolyn.

All that being said, I think one of the main things they wanted to get into this seasons was the different family dynamics. And with Carolyn and Geraldine, the main thing here is the constant struggle for Geraldine to “change” Carolyn or to get her to “properly grieve” and connect with her which Carolyn just can’t do and won’t pretend to do. She cares in her own way but she can’t change who she is and that’s something Geraldine just can’t seem to accept even though Carolyn has accepted who Geraldine is. Which leads to Carolyn saying what we all as a fandom have been screaming since Geraldine entered:

Eve: Eve doesn’t really seem to have any close ties with any of her family. You hear about an aunt in the beginning of the season but that’s about it. Her family is Niko, that’s all she really has. Well that and her work, you could say that for a while she was married to her work more than Niko. But season 3 begins with her not working for MI6 and Niko isn’t with her either leaving her alone. Which is, of course, why she tries to hang on to him so much. It’s not about love anymore. It’s about Eve selfishly hanging on to her last strand of humanity and family, ignoring how toxic and bad she really is for him.

It took a long time but Eve finally accepts this, especially when Niko tells her to piss off. I know that especially hit Eve hard after everything that happened just for Niko to still tell her that he wants nothing to do with her. I think this is what it finally takes for Eve to really come to terms with the type of person she is and the darkness inside of her.

She’s always been aware of the darkness growing in her but I don’t think she ever took full responsibility for it. Like in the season 2 finale after killing Raymond (still upset this wasn’t really brought up this season). Yes, Villanelle manipulated her into that, but Eve still made that choice, and it was something that we all knew she thought about like in the train scene in season 2 when she’s about to push the guy in front of the train. Despite all of that, she never accepted or admitted to that part of herself. Which adds to Villanelle’s frustration and confusion in the s2 finale, as we found out this season is something that she can’t stand.

I think what happened with Niko was the beginning of her accepting that and then killing Dasha was the moment where she fully acknowledged it.

I got a little sidetracked there, but yes, Niko was Eve’s only family, her last strand to normality. And I think that a big part of accepting the darkness inside of her was also accepting that attraction and connection she has with Villanelle. Villanelle is the only one that Eve can understand and relate to, she’s the only one who truly sees Villanelle for who she is, just as Villanelle truly sees Eve. For a long time, Eve was too afraid to admit that Villanelle was always right though.

Accepting her own darkness also meant accepting Villanelle and their connection. It also meant accepting the only person who has been consistent, open, and understanding of her true self. And then choosing her as her family in the end, which Eve does.

Villanelle - So I talked a lot about Villanelle’s family dynamic in my 3x05 review so I’m not gonna spend much time on that. I wanna talk about how in these last few episodes, V has to make the choice between family and freedom.

She’s stated a few times that she doesn’t want to work for the Twelve anymore, she doesn’t want to kill anymore. She wants to be free. And after the events of 3x05, being free meant leaving Eve behind.

V is so emotionally vulnerable here that the only thing she can think of is just getting away from everything. It doesn’t matter that Konstantin has betrayed her before or that he has constantly chosen himself and his family over her, she just needs to get away.

After what happened with her family in Russia, and with everything that people have said to her and about her, we see Villanelle really struggle with her sense of self and how lonely she is.

“She is a perfect killing machine.” “You are a beautiful monster.” “You are darkness.”

That’s not who she wants to be and I think the only way that she sees as a way of distancing herself from that is by running away with Konstantin, then she can be whoever she wants. That is, up until this scene:

Eve sees her for more than just the terrible things she’s done. She knows that Villanelle is more than just a tool for chaos.

I think watching what happened between Konstantin and Carolyn, two people who “cared” about each other, really resonated with V. It almost parallels Eve and V in the past, never quite trusting the other and constantly hurting each other. Konstantin, as I said before, is someone who has betrayed everyone around him which has left him alone and on a lot of people’s hit list. This could easily be Villanelle in the future had she stuck around with the Twelve as long as Konstantin did. Even here, he still continues to use other people to his advantage, begging Villanelle to do something, again seeing her as a means to an end like everyone else (except Eve). I think it was here that Villanelle realized that freedom doesn’t really mean anything on its own, especially if it’s running away with Konstantin. For Villanelle, Eve is her family and that’s more important to her than freedom.

In this way, she’s learning from Konstantin’s mistakes. Which is also shown in her decision to respect Eve’s choice to walk away in the end.

It’s all about choices. This is something Eve had to learn this season and something Villanelle learned as well. Villanelle has seen what constant manipulation and betrayal can do to someone (i.e Carolyn and Konstantin). She doesn’t want to be that anymore, she doesn’t want that for her and Eve. She’s finally reached a point where she can think outside of her own desires and feelings and acknowledge Eve’s and not only that but put her own aside and put someone else first. Villanelle finally understands what love is and that it’s not possession (”You’re mine”). Knowing full well that Eve is who she wants, she still gave Eve the chance to walk away like everyone else has done.

I read in one of the interviews that Villanelle pretty much knew (99%) that Eve would turn around but I’m pretty sure that 1% was the only thing Villanelle could think about in this moment as she turned around. It was so important to have Eve turn around first. It’s so important that Eve picked Villanelle first and that V turned around to see that Eve couldn’t walk away. That shit pulls at my heartstrings. This was such a beautiful and perfect scene in every way.

OVERALL - So I definitely didn’t keep this one shorter like I intended to lol

This was such a great finale, there’s so much growth from season one and I love it. I think that while I was a little apprehensive about this season at certain points, I think that it all led up to this finale really well and going back and rewatching this season will definitely be a treat. Everything about this episode was great, the humor was spot on, the dialogue was great, the music was perfect, everything was just *chef’s kiss*. Actually hold up, there is one thing haha how tf did Bear forget about a camera for two weeks while investigating a murder??? I can’t let that one go but other than that *chef’s kiss*! I’m really looking forward to season 4 and where Eve and Villanelle end up after this scene. I have very high hopes for s4, Laura Neal really came through this season so I can imagine that season 4 will be a ride!

Anyway, thank you to the people who have read my reviews. As well as those who have left comments on my posts and who have reached out. This has been a great distraction from the shit fest that is 2020. I’ll still be around and will be writing some fanfic to get me through this hiatus for anyone interested. I’m currently writing a series of one-shots but will soon start planning out an AU. Send me some AU ideas that you guys wanna see, I haven’t quite figured out what I’m gonna write about yet. Or if anyone wants to talk about the finale or expectations for season 4 or just anything at all, my inbox is open! Stay safe out there and make sure to take care of yourself, these are difficult times and it can be hard to stay positive but hang in there, change is coming.

I didn’t proofread this so sorry for any mistakes 😅

#Killing Eve #Killing Eve season 3 #Killing Eve spoilers #Killing Eve season 3 finale #KE 3x08 #Sandra Oh #Jodie Comer #Eve Polastri #Konstantin #Carolyn #Konstantin Vasiliev #Carolyn Martens #Villanlle #Villaneve #Oksana #Oksana Astankova

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

Text

Colored Blue

Genre: Royalty!AU, somewhat enemies to lovers

Pairing: Sehun x Fem!reader

A/N: I’m not sure if there’s much to the enemies to lovers part.... also, i don’t normal put the word count, but so everyone’s aware, this is about 6k... enjoy! (hopefully!)

The carriage ride was far from smooth. Each small pebble or rock or crack in the ground jolted the wheels which in turn shook the coach. Each bump churned your stomach that was already jostled with nerves.

“Why do we have to do this?” you asked, your eyes closed to try and calm the nauseated feeling.

Your governess, Edna, tsked from the bench across from you.

Although you were too old now to need a governess, Edna continued to stay on as a companion, someone to keep you company on trips like this where your parents were unable (or simply chose not to) to attend. That was quite alright with you since you much preferred her presence to anyone else’s. She was like an eccentric aunt to you, somehow both responsible and adventurous. Sort of.

Edna would never approve of sneaking out late at night or being alone with someone who was not your betrothed (which you were lucky enough not to have one of those – yet). However, she wasn’t against your archery lessons or horseback riding that went a little faster than a leisurely trot. She was practically a walking contradiction and you weren’t entirely sure of what she would and would not approve of. It was always a guessing game; one that you liked playing to keep yourself entertained.

“Are you really wanting me to go over it again with you or are you simply wanting to cure your own boredom?” Edna asked, not even glancing up from her needlework. How she could do that without pricking her finger every bump was astounding.

“Oh, I know why,” you huffed. “At least, on the surface. But it sounds like a pathetic excuse, if you ask me.”

“I don’t believe anyone did,” Edna smirk. Head still bent over her needlework, she looked at you through her eyelashes. Both of you started to laugh.

Your laugh, however, soon faded to a light chuckle before dying out completely. It wasn’t fair. That was practically the slogan of your life. “Unfair”. Each aspect of your life - from how you dressed to how you ate to who’s company you kept - was dictated by both decorum and your parents. Being a lady of noble birth may have sounded like a glamorous life in the fairytales Edna had read to you as a child, but it didn’t take you long to find that it was nothing but a cage made of manners and tradition. While the bars had always remained steadfast, a new lock was about to be put on the door. One that was much stronger - and possibly unbreakable.

Running away always sounded like a wonderful, spur-of-the-moment idea. Unfortunately, your mind would instantly remind you that you had no clue as to how to survive outside the castle walls. You didn’t know how to cook or hunt or work with your hands beyond the theory of it. You wouldn’t last more than maybe two days on your own and that fear kept you put.

The carriage slowed to a stop. After a short succession of knocks, one of your knights poked his head in through the small door.

“Mi’lady, I wanted to let you know that we’re just outside the city walls. Once through, it should only be a few minutes more to the castle itself.”

“Thank you, Sir Markl.”

With a last nod, he closed the door before shouting to continue on.

You were already here. Sure, you’d really been traveling for two days, but it still felt so sudden. How would your presence be received?

Since your grandfather was a young duke, your two families had feuded. Sometimes it was simply high tension, while there were times where it was fought on the battlefield. The last skirmish was nearly two decades ago, forced to a fragile truce by the king. And now the old man was hoping to strengthen that truce by marrying you off to the son of the rival duke. Oh, of course. It was merely a suggestion. As if it could be ignored.

How were you supposed to be happy with someone who surely hated you?

You were certain that this boy grew up with the same kind of dirt spewed out about you from his parents that you heard from yours about them. Except, it wasn’t just your parents that didn’t have the most flattering view of this future duke.

Other barons and knights didn’t seem to have the highest view of him either. Standoffish, uninterested, rude, and loose-lipped were a few of the adjectives you’d heard used to describe him.

Wonderful.

All too soon, the coach came to another stop and you could hear Sir Markl loudly announce your arrival. After a few seconds, you heard the gate being raised and the carriage lurched forward to go the forty feet or so to the real front door of the castle. You knew it was too late to run, but the image of you bolting out of the carriage and into the woods to get away seemed very satisfying in your head.

When the door swung open, Edna motioned for you to exit first. In a very unladylike way, you blew air out through your lips before morphing your face into a neutral expression. In a fashion much more expected of your station, you stepped out into the sunshine. With the help of Sir Markl, you managed not to trip your way down to the ground.

Staring up at the large wooden double doors, you took a deep breath. You felt like you were at the mouth of the dragon’s cave, the sacrifice left to die for the good of the village.

“Come, mi’lady,” Edna urged with a wave of her hand. You nodded once, picking up your skirt and making your way up the steps as the doors were opened for you.

The steward was waiting for you inside the front hall. He bowed and introduced himself, although your brain didn’t quite catch his name. Your mind was a little occupied at the moment.

He led you through the halls of the grand castle where drapes and paintings that depicted scenes of hunts and parties covered up the less welcoming-looking gray stone. Your eyes wandered among the art but never lingered too long. There would be plenty of time to memorize their threads and brushstrokes in the future.

The steward finally came to a stop outside another pair of double doors that could only lead into the Great Hall. The place where the Duke would conduct his meetings with citizens and dignitaries and where the festive parties would be held. You didn’t want to go in there, but what choice did you have?

With both hands, the steward pushed open the doors and announced your arrival.

Sitting in a large wooden chair painted in a flashy gold sat the Duke, his wife - beautiful and smiling, nothing at all like the wicked witch you’d pictured as a child - sat to his left.

“Welcome!” the Duke greeted. “It’s wonderful to see that you’ve arrived safely.” While there was certainly a small strain in his voice, the words out of the Duke’s mouth seemed genuine.

You curtsied as custom. “Thank you for your hospitality, my lord.”

“I’m sorry that our son is not here as well,” the Duchess said with apologetic eyes. “He is in the middle of training at the moment and we didn’t want to make you wait for him to clean up. You must be exhausted from your journey. Sohee will show you to your room. Please, take your time settling in. We will reconvene at dinner.”

Relief flowed over you as the young maid walked up from her spot off to the side, curtsied in front of you, and turned to leave the room. Finally, you’d be allowed to rest and you didn’t have to meet your possible future husband quite yet. In fact, the more you were able to put it off, the happier you would be.

In a very un-ladylike manner, you flopped down on the bed as soon as the maid Sohee was gone and the door was closed. Staring up at the ceiling, you blew air out from between your lips. Should you start counting down the days until you were allowed to go back home now?

“Oh, it isn’t even that bad,” Edna scolded you. “The Duke and Duchess were friendly enough.”

“For now,” you mumbled. It was true that their greeting was warm and they seemed genuine in wanting you here. But the childhood fears and scene of imagination that you’d grown up with weren’t easily tossed away.

Edna sat down next to you on the bed and coaxed you into a sitting position. “I know you’re tired of hearing it all, but this is truly for the good of your people and your own future.”

“I don’t exactly remember consenting to any of this.”

Shaking her head, Edna fixed a strand of your hair that had fallen onto your face. “That’s the sacrifice to be made in order to live a comfortable life.”

“Comfortable is not the word I would use,” you argued. How could a life dictated by marriages and land and being in the King’s favor be comfortable? You’d much rather be free, allowed to fall in love with whoever you desired and to go places when you wished – and avoid the ones you wanted.

“You have much more than most,” Enda reminded you.

You bit back your tongue out at her back as she stood up, knowing any further argument was useless. Like you weren’t reminded of that on a daily basis. Did their struggles suddenly make your own invalid?

The muffled sound of clashing metal interrupted your thoughts. Curious, you went over to the slim window that let in the sunlight into your new room. Just outside on the ground below you were a group of four or five men all attacking one central character. Even from here you could tell that he was tired, but he didn’t give up. He kept swinging his sword, blocking blows and delivering attacks of his own. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop one of the other men from getting the better of him. He caught the lone fighter around the ankle, pulling his leg until he fell backwards. You flinched at how much that must have hurt.

As if he’d sensed you watching, the man looked up at you. You only allowed for a brief moment of eye contact before you quickly turned around, your heart pounding in your chest from being caught.

“What has you all excited?” Edna teased as she started to unpack your trunk.

“I am not excited.”

She chuckled at you, straightening up and placing a hand against your cheek. “The warmth of your face says otherwise.” Peeking over your shoulder she chuckled again. “It looks like his grace is still busy practicing his swordsmanship.”

Your eyes widened as you flipped back over to look out the window again. “That’s the Duke’s son?”

He was… scrawnier than you imagined. More lean than the barrel chested nobles you’d met in the past. Granted, they were built that way in order to wear heavy armor day in and day out.

Over the sight, you went back to your bed, hoping to get some true rest in before you were forced to meet him face to face. He may have been physically different than what you’d thought, you were sure you would be more correct on his personality. After all, rumors had to have some basis of truth, right?

A few hours later you were summoned for dinner. Edna was allowed to come with you and she took the seat to your right at the long banquet table.

To be honest, you were a little surprised to see only the Duke and Duchess sitting at the table ready to eat and converse. You were starting to get the feeling that you weren’t the only one dreading this meeting. If he was going to avoid you as much as he could then you wouldn’t complain. Perhaps if the two of you never met, you would be allowed to go home with no commitments and no hostility. After all, it wouldn’t be your fault there was no marriage.

However, those hopes were dashed when the doors across the dining hall opened and the man from the earlier scrimmage strolled in. He barely nodded to his parents before settling into the chair across from you. It was as if you were completely invisible and you couldn’t help but feel slightly offended. Sure, the avoidance and tardiness you could accept and deal with, but being blatantly ignored was… well, it was hurting your feelings for lack of a better description.

“Thank you for joining us, Sehun,” the Duchess said in a voice that was simultaneously sweet and scolding.

“Training ran late,” he said in a low tone. He made eye contact with no one, keeping his concentration on the food in front of him and filling his plate.

“At least you cleaned up,” the Duchess murmured.

“I’m sorry for my son’s rudeness,” the Duke said to you. “He should take a moment to introduce himself since he did not greet you earlier.”

Sehun paused, looking at his father questionably. When the Duke did not relent on the stern glare he was sending his son, Sehun sighed and fell back into his chair before finally standing up and bowing. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady (y/n).”

You were surprised to the point of almost forgetting to nod back in acknowledgement. The fact that he knew your name…. Surely he’d just heard it from his parents enough that it sunk in beyond his control. But he kept staring at you with those dark brown eyes that were almost black. They were nearly unreadable, blank and impenetrable. You argued with yourself whether or not there were actually thoughts behind them and he was simply that good at masking it or if his mind was as truly empty as he was making it seem. If you were to be stuck with him the rest of your life, you really hoped it wasn’t the latter.

Dinner went about in a more uninteresting manner. The Duchess would occasionally ask you about your upbringing, what you liked to do in your spare time. Once in a while, the Duke would comment as well or insert a question of his own in regards to your father’s dealings. Sehun, however, had gone to his previous mindset of pretending no one else was there. Part of you wished that he would open up, saying something, anything.

“If you’ll excuse me, your Grace,” you said quietly. “I’m still a bit tired from my journey. Would you please allow me to return to my room?”

“Of course,” the Duke nodded. “We’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well.”

You gave them each a curtsied (although the energy felt wasted upon Sehun) and headed off to your room with Edna in tow.

“You didn’t have to come with me,” you told her back in your room.

“If I hadn’t I might have given that Sehun boy a tongue lashing for how he acted,” she grumbled.

You smiled at her. “Yes, it was quite rude, wasn’t it? But what can you do? I’m not going to force him into conversation. Not today, at least.”

“Not today?” Edna raised an eyebrow at you.

You tried to keep your face innocent, but it was useless. “You know me too well. The odds of me getting out of this marriage are slim. Might as well see if the rumors of his manners are true.”

Edna narrowed her eyes at you cheekily. “You think he’s handsome, don’t you?”

That got a scoff out of you. “I do not. He’s thin and his chin is pointy and you know I prefer lighter eyes.”

But your argument fell flat. “That’s a strong chin he has. And he isn’t sickly. From the way he was swinging that sword… he isn’t weak either.”

“That hardly means anything.” You were coming up empty on any meaningful fight back.

“Keep telling yourself that. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was muscle underneath that tunic,” she said as she helped you out of your dress. “But I think getting to know him is a wonderful idea. You might like what you find.”

Rolling your eyes, you crawled in between the sheets and shoved your face into the pillow. It was a useless effort, but you wanted to stop yourself from thinking of Sehun before drifting off to sleep.

The next day after breakfast, you thought you were to get to know your future family. However, the Duke had duties out in the fields and the Duchess was meeting with the wives of the lower nobles. Sehun… you weren’t sure where he was exactly, only that he disappeared soon after finishing his meal.

So, you gave Edna the morning off and took to exploring the castle grounds on your own.

The garden was beautiful. Hedges twice your height nearly blocked out the sky. They were trimmed to perfect rectangles, little buds blooming spontaneously among the leaves. Flowers – both domestic and exotic – grew everywhere along the paths that twisted and turned within the walls of the garden.

A smile grew on your face as you came across a bush of white roses. Taking the small knife out from your boot (Edna insisted on carrying protection at all times), you cute off three fully bloomed roses and headed back inside. After convincing one of the maids to fetch you vases and dyed cloth, you went to the library. In a corner near the window, you took the roses and put them in the vases freshly filled with water. Cutting the dark blue fabric, you placed the pieces in the water near the bottom of the vase.

“Are you trying to poison the flower?”

The sudden visitor made you jump in surprise, nearly knocking the vase on the table over. You turned to simply explain what you were doing, but your lips formed a pout when you realized it was Sehun.

“No,” you snapped. “I’m dyeing the petals.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

You shrugged. “Because I like strange colored flowers. Blue and purple roses aren’t exactly found in nature.”

“Isn’t it a bit wasteful?” he asked. You thought for a moment that he would sit down and join you at the table, but he remained standing, hands folded behind his back.

“Wasteful?” you echoed.

“Blue and purple fabrics are the most expensive and yet you’re putting them in water. To dye flowers.”

“So beauty should only be allowed upon a person’s body?” Standing up, you took one of the vases and pushed it towards Sehun’s chest who barely caught the poor flower in time for it to not crash down to the floor. “Watch that over the next few days. You might be surprised at what grows before your eyes.” You turned and picked up the remaining flowers and scraps of cloth.

“Is that supposed to be a metaphor for our own relationship?” he asked out of nowhere.

You glanced at him over your shoulder. “I wasn’t aware that we had one.” And with that, you left the study, a triumphant smirk on your lips.

Your last quip to Sehun must have put a chink in his cold armor. For the rest of the day, you didn’t see him, even at meal times. A worried look refused to leave the Duchess’ face all throughout the evening. Her eyes flickered to the chair that Sehun had occupied the day before.

The Duke was the first to excuse himself from the table, leaving you and Edna alone with the Duchess.

“Lady (y/n)?”

You reluctantly raised your gaze from the plate in front of you to your gracious host. “Yes?”

“I would like to speak with you alone.” It was not a request that gave room for refusal. Even if you were able to say no, was there really any reason to?

“I’ll see you in your room,” Edna said as she stood up from her seat. Before exiting through the door, she gave you a last glance over her shoulder.

The Duchess stood up and took over Edna’s seat, picking up your hand in hers. “I understand that this must be a confusing time for you.”

Confusing? No, not really. You knew what was expected of this “visit”. Trying? Frustrating? Irritating? Those descriptors would be much more accurate. But you didn’t correct her out loud.

“We didn’t fully prepare Sehun for this possibility,” the Duchess confessed to you. “He was only aware of you coming here a few days ago. When it was explained what the hopeful outcome would be… well, he’s always been a free spirit. A bit of cliche way to describe one’s child, but it’s true. He’s always followed his own way. So, being told what would be expected of him - especially when marriage has never been an idea he was fond of - its taken its toll on him.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked bravely when she’d taken a moment to pause.

“Because I want you to put more effort on your end to get to know him,” the Duchess said with a smile. “He won’t come to you, not if left alone. The King wants this union, but Sehun doesn’t care about that. I see a light in you that might attract him, if given the time.”

You couldn’t quite find it in you to return the smile. “So, you want to force myself upon him?”

“Not in any sort of obvious way, but, essentially… yes. For the sake of both of our territories.”

With that, she patted your head and left the dining hall.

You didn’t really want to get to know the man. You were quite alright with the idea of him not liking the idea of marriage. Perhaps your previous hope of this not coming to fruition could still come together.

But what you didn’t know was that Sehun was not as uninterested as you’d previously suspected or as the Duchess had spoken about.

From a shadowed corner of the hall, Sehun watched you get up from the table and leave the room. Something along the lines of curiosity was brewing inside. He’d never cared for the ladies that hung around the castle in the past.

Before the King had passed down this “wish”, daughters of lesser nobles and rich merchants in town tried their hardest to capture his attention. They always failed. Perhaps it was because you were something new that he was more intrigued than he should have been. Someone he hadn’t seen grow up through the many balls and dinners his parents had hosted through the years.

Or maybe it was because you didn’t seem on board for this marriage either. Earlier in the library, you didn’t bat your eyes at him or use flirty lines. You seemed more annoyed than anything that he'd interrupted you and questioned what you were doing. The flower you’d given him was still starking white, causing him to think that you might have been making up what you were doing.

Sighing to himself, Sehun waltzed up to the table and made himself a plate of food while trying to stay out of the way of the servants who were cleaning up.

“Feel free to take whatever leftovers you want,” he said softly to the younger ones. They were only children, twelve years old or so. Smiles shined on their faces as they bowed their heads to him.

“Thank you, my lord!” they cheered. He returned the gesture with a small grin of his own, ruffling the youngest boy’s hair before heading to his room for the night.

You were cringing inside as you slowly made your way to the practice field outside near the stables. One of the kitchen boys had told you that Sehun was out here with his bow perfecting his aim. The information seemed to be correct as you grew closer to the archery lanes. It didn’t stop you from questioning why you were bothering with this.

All by himself, Sehun drew back arrow after arrow, hitting the center circle nearly every time.

“You’re rather good at that,” you complimented just in time to surprise him and throw off his aim. You couldn’t help but giggle at his exasperated state when the arrow hit the outermost ring.

“Is there something I can help you with, Lady (y/n)?” he asked, obviously frustrated. The tightness of his eyebrows and the downturn of his lips told you that he might prefer if you went away, but you’d told the Duchess that you would try. Somewhat. Besides, Edna was right. While he wasn’t anything like the knights and barons you were used to, he was a bit handsome. Or… maybe more than a bit….

You shrugged. “I was simply bored and thought I would join you and get some practice of my own in.”

“Do you know how to use one of these?” Sehun challenged.

You scoffed at the insult. “I am more than adequate at archery.”

“Really?” He raised that stupid eyebrow at you again. Then he held his bow out for you. “Let’s see then.”

Confident in your abilities, you snatched the bow out of his grasp and plucked an arrow out of the quiver sitting on the ground. Adjusting your stance, you held up the bow and docked the arrow. It took a bit more strength that you were used to in order to pull back on the string, but you managed to hold it long enough to set up your sight. However, when you let go, you were a little disappointed in the landing of the arrow, hitting the round straw target in one of the middle rings.

“Not… terrible,” Sehun said. You could hear the amusement in his voice. “Better than most ladies, I’m sure.” Well, at least that was sort of a compliment. “Let me show you how to improve.” He stepped towards you, which in turn made you step back.

“What are you doing?” you snapped.

He sighed. “I’m trying to show you how to do it better. Or do you not want to ever hit the bullseye?”

He was challenging you again. Let him get close or run away. Well, you certainly weren’t going to take the second choice.

This time you stayed put when he stepped closer. You even allowed him to turn you back towards the target with his hands on your hips. His back was nearly against your shoulder blades. You were a little too aware of him, his breath on your neck and his fingers on top of yours as he helped you lift the bow and pull back on the arrow.

“Lower your elbow,” he whispered in your ear. It was much lower and huskier than it ever needed to be, letting you know that he was very aware of what he was doing. The only question: was he doing this to see how much he could play with you? A small part of you truly hoped that he wasn’t. “Don’t pull too tight or your arm will start shaking. The tension in the string is enough to send it flying without too much work on your end. And don’t aim for the dot. Instead, aim just above it. The farther you are away, the higher you need to aim as the arrow will drop as it flies.”

You were barely acknowledging what he was saying. As hard as you tried, you couldn’t concentrate on anything other than him. This probably wasn’t what the Duchess had in mind when she asked you to get to know her son.

“Are you listening?” Sehun asked, apparently noticing the way your mind was wondering.

“Huh? Yes, of course.” No, of course not.

“Okay. Good. Then let go when you’re ready.”

You tried to recall what he’d said previously, aiming above the bullseye. Letting go, you watched the arrow fly, hitting just to the left of the large red dot.

“Better,” Sehun nodded behind you. He didn’t seem to be aware that he was still so close.

Looking back at him, you studied his face. The conflicting way his eyes and nose seemed so soft, but his chin and mouth sharpened out his features, putting him halfway between boy and man. Almost subconsciously, he placed a hand on your shoulder, causing your heart to jump into a frenzy. You hardly knew this person. Why were you acting this way?

“How’s my flower?” you asked in order to distract yourself.

“Hm?” He looked to you, still not moving to create space. “Your flower? Oh, right. It’s still white.”

“Well, of course it is,” you laughed. “It takes time for it to turn colors. Perhaps this is meant to teach you patience.”

“Or you’re simply playing with me.”

You shook your head. “I don’t play games.”

“Good,” was his reply. It seemed forever went by as the two of you just stared at each other, unsure of where to go from there but neither willing to walk away.

“Lady (y/n)!”

You jumped back at the sound of your name, not as relieved as you should have been by the interruption.

Edna hurried up to you, a twitch giving away her position on what she’d stumbled upon. “It’s time to get ready for dinner,” she told you.

Nodding a little too eagerly, you curtsied a goodbye to Sehun, handing him back his bow and quickly following Edna back to the castle.

“Don’t,” you told her once the two of you were far enough away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Edna chuckled.

“Yes, you do,” you growled through clenched teeth. “So, don’t even think about it.”

Her response was a smirk.

Something happened after that day in the field. Over the next two weeks, you and Sehun spent more and more time together.

It was never on purpose. Neither of you sought out the other, but when you did run into him, you ended up spending several hours talking. The more you learned about him, the more your anxiety on the possible marriage faded away. While he occasionally had some childish tendencies, you saw his kindness towards the servants, particularly the younger ones. He was only slightly spoiled, but not to the point where it turned you away from him. In fact, there were times you found it enduring. An odd response, you were aware, but you couldn’t help it.

The two of you were walking through the gardens when the steward arrived.

“What is it?” Sehun asked.

“The Duke is requesting your presence,” the steward replied.

Sehun nodded and then turned to you to bow. “I’ll find you again later.”

“Actually, he is wanting to see you both.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. Was this it? Were you expected to agree to a wedding this soon? As much as you’ve enjoyed getting to know Sehun, your feelings for him growing every day, you weren’t sure if you were ready for that step.

The two of you followed the steward back inside and through the hallways until you arrived in the Great Hall. Sitting in their regal seats were the Duke and Duchess. Edna stood off to the side, a pale envelope in her hand.

“What’s going on?” Sehun inquired.

“A letter has arrived from Lady (y/n)’s parents,” the Duke answered. On queue, Edna stepped forward and handed you the envelope. A knowing smile played at her lips, but she kept quiet.

With shaking hands, you opened the letter and began to read. But where you had been expecting an urge to get married, you received terrible news instead. It must have been written all over your face.

Sehun came closer to you, his hand on your elbow. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“The Baron of Haeju has attacked our city,” you said quietly in a trembling voice. “My father’s knights are holding him back, but they’re asking for help.” You looked up at the Duke pleadingly. “They might not be able to win this on their own.”

“The Baron of Haeju?” the Duke echoed. He glanced over his wife before shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Lady (y/n), but I can’t send my men to assist your father.”

You gaped at him. “Wasn’t the point of me coming here to unite our lands? To heal the wounds between our families? My parents are asking for help, but you’re turning your back on them already?”

“My duty is to put my own people first,” the Duke argued.

“Father, certainly we can spare a few men,” Sehun urged.

The Duke shook his head. “No. Our relationship with the Baron has been strained far worse recently despite the amount of trade we do with his merchants. I can’t risk cutting those ties and starving our people.”

“So, you would go against the King?” you challenged.

“I’m sure he would understand.”

“Then there’s no reason for me to stay any longer.” Turning on your feet, you stormed out of the hall with Edna.

“(y/n)! Wait!” Sehun blocked your path to your room, desperation on his face. He grasped your shoulders in an effort to hold you down. “Please, don’t go!”

“There’s no point in my staying here,” you told him. “My people need me and your father isn’t willing to help. I came here because of an alliance, but your father isn’t holding up his end of the bargain.” Your heart was breaking. You wanted to stay with him. You were falling for him. But your own sense of duty and pride was too overwhelming to ignore. Kissing his cheek, you settled into your decision. “I’ve enjoyed every second with you and I won’t forget you. Ever. Please be happy.” Before you could let the slightest seed of doubt start to grow, you ran past him.

Not even half an hour later, you were in a carriage and headed home. Your father needed the few knights that had accompanied you here. Behind you, what was once a promising future was fading in the distance.

“How could you let her go?!” Sehun yelled as his parents stared at him indifferently.

“Decisions like this occur all the time,” his father sighed. “When you are the protector of this land, you will understand.”

“I thought you didn’t care for this marriage?” his mother asked.

The question made Sehun step back. “Well, I- I mean-” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Father’s made his decision.” He ran out of the Great Hall before his parents could question him further.

In his room, he sat on the floor, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. His morning had started out so well. He’d enjoyed talking to you in the garden, the one place that seemed to make you truly happy here. Even though you were listening to him, you would stop and feel the petals of the plants between your fingers, holding the flowers gently in your palm.

And now you were gone.

On the mantle above the fireplace, the rose you’d given him stared at him. The edges had turned blue, just as you predicted.

Standing up, he went over to the mantle and took hold of the flower. Already, it was starting to die, to wither away. Soon, he would have to toss it. But he didn’t want to let it go. He didn’t want to let you go.

His mind was made up. Surely, you hadn’t gone too far yet.

Bursting out of his room, he ran to find his most trusted men. They would follow him to help save your people, he was sure of it. In the stables, he was busy saddling his horse as Jongin, Tao, and Luhan did the same around him. Others waited to join them outside.

“You’re going after her, aren’t you?”

He didn’t look to his mother as he nodded. “I have to. I can’t let her walk into a fight. Not when I can protect her.”

“Good. You love her, I can tell. I couldn’t ask for a better outcome.”

Peeking over his shoulder, he frowned. “Did you know that would happen?”

“Of course not,” she said. “But I hoped you would open your heart to her. It tends to make these arrangements easier.”

Shaking his head, he kissed his mother’s cheek and then mounted his horse. “Let’s go!”

The group took off, galloping full speed down the road that would lead him back to you. With a lighter load, they had the advantage in catching up to you, but it would still take too long for Sehun’s liking.

It seemed like hours had gone by and he could feel his horse growing tired.

“Maybe we should rest,” Jongin yelled over the heavy beating of hooves against the dirt road.

As much as Sehun wanted to argue, he knew they couldn’t keep going like this. But he was granted one last miracle. Just as he was beginning to pull back on his reigns, a carriage came into view, prompting him to go faster. He recognized the coachman and the knights surrounding the carriage. It really was you.

He pulled up alongside the carriage before overtaking it, forcing it to a stop or be responsible for a terrible collision.

“What’s going on?” Your companion, Edna, stuck her head out the window, eyes widening when she caught sight of Sehun. “Lady (y/n)!”

“What is it?” You, too, looked out the window and gasped. Pushing the door open, you jumped out while at the same time Sehun dismounted, running to you. He took you in his arms, holding you tight against his chest. “What are you doing here?” you demanded when you pushed back.

“I’m not letting you leave like this,” he declared. Then, he bent his head, connecting his lips to yours.When he pulled back, the corners of your mouth were pulling up. It made his heart warm to see you like that. “First, my men and I are going to help defend your home. And then, I’m going to marry you as promised.”

Tears pooled in your eyes that sparkled at him. “Why?”

“Because I’ve fallen for you like a petal falls from a flower.” From his tunic, he pulled out the now somewhat squished blue rose.

“It turned blue,” you smiled.

“Just like you said.” He swooped in for another kiss, happy to have you in his arms. He wasn’t sure if his plan to join your father’s men would work, but that was a risk he was willing to take to be with you. Only a month ago, you were the daughter of his father’s enemy. Now, you were his blue rose; unique, different, and forever close to his heart.

#exo #exo royalty au #exo royalty!au #sehun x reader #oh sehun #exo imagines #exo scenarios #exo enemies to lovers au #sehun x fem!reader #fluff #angst #kpop

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opalmaplehibiscus · 4 years

Text

A Father’s Pride Hidden Under the Stars

**Hello! Thank you for the request! I honestly had fun writing this one especially since I was able to write about Leona’s past again :’) I hope you enjoy it! ><**

HC of younger Leona and His Father interaction theory

· The royal palace was like hell. Living in a place where you were treated like dirt, as if everything you did was garbage, unacknowledged and loved despite sharing the same royal blood as the rest of the royal family… it was awful

· Leona hated living there, getting reminded that no matter what he does he’ll never receive the same respect, affection, and praise as Farena, who wouldn’t even have to move a finger to make it look like he did something grand

· In the end though, enduring everything payed off as he would often quietly but excitingly run towards the doors to a certain office, where the only person in the world to hold his heart, would be there, welcoming him with a hug and warm smile

· No matter how quietly Leona opens the door, his father, the king of Afterglow Savana, would already know and have snacks and tea ready

· When Leona first entered the office, he sat on the sofa. He nervously shifted left to right, playing with his hands as he tried his best not to disturb his father, as the king worked and signed all the paperwork piled up on his desk

· Leona didn’t expect to be carried and placed onto his father’s lap nor being hugged. His brain literally stops function as he tried to figure out how to react as his father continued to read and sign papers without letting Leona go

· Now Leona would stand next to his father, nuzzling his face onto his father’s leg while patting them lightly with his hands before he gets picked up

· While munching on a cookie, Leona would read the documents and ask questions to his father about the topic, terminology, anything really. Yes, he’s genuinely curious but also because he didn’t really know what to talk about with his father. He’s never held a “normal” conversation with others before – after all no one would ever look at the 2nd prince

· The king would explain it to him, making it easier for his son to understand seeing how much Leona enjoyed talking to him about it. It honestly makes paperwork a bit more… fun to do as he gets to see his beloved son’s eyes sparkle

· There’s a reason why Leona was acknowledged to be smart and wiser though not directly told. The way Leona brain moved evidently showed as he would point out flaws or even suggest better advices that even the king or his advisor didn’t think of

· A little later, Leona would fall asleep, his head against his father’s chest making the king smile. Whenever Leona fell asleep, the king would think about how his son finally looks relaxed compared to all the other times where Leona would often try to curl himself into a ball and blend in with the walls of the palace

· When Leona wakes up, he would find himself sleeping on the sofa with his father’s arms wrapped around him. These were the times Leona would preciously keep in his heart, enjoying how it was only his and his father’s “secret” time. No one else is part of it, and nobody will soon join in. It’s just him and his father

· But in the back of his mind, he often wonders why he would often hear a sorrowful voice “I’m sorry” and feel a hand petting his head

· Leona wouldn’t know how his father would look at him with sadness and guilt nor hear how much his father gives him the most affection smile before the king joins Leona for an afternoon nap

· When the king brings Leona along with him on his patrols, he would disguise the two of themselves to make them blend in with the crowd

· The king would be carrying Leona either on his shoulders or arms, making a small smile form on Leona’s lips as they would walk around

· During their trip, his king would be giving Leona lessons, talking about what were key things to observe and why they were walking around. Sounds boring right? If Farena was there, he would’ve already run away and start playing with the kids on the streets as the king would try to teach his children or talking to a couple store owners or merchants

· Leona didn’t care what his father was doing though. If it meant listening to his father’s business talks or being taught, he didn’t mind. Because as long as he’s with his father, Leona was satisfied

· When the king felt he had made his second child bored or felt that might’ve been a bit overboard with his lessons, the king would spoil Leona by buying him food from the stalls, toys, or books Leona had chose (He seriously questions whether Leona was a kid when he looks at all the books Leona chooses. What kind of kid would be reading Socrates and Aristotle? Even he didn’t read them as a kid and here his son was just constantly surprising him with how much knowledge and ambition he had in that small body of his)

· Leona never knew the reason for the king holding him closer like that was because of their first trip together

· The first time around, the kind was holding Leona’s hand, walking at his son’s pace as he let Leona enjoy the view and get to experience the environment most of the people lived in

· But as he was talking to a vendor for a few minutes, he felt Leona’s grip on his hand disappear

· When he looks around, there was no trace of Leona except for his barely traceable scent with a mix of someone else’s, making the king realize his son was kidnapped

· No sooner than later, the king finds his son crying in an alley where his kidnappers were yelling horrendous things that his son didn’t deserve to hear. What do you mean his son was useless? What do you mean he isn’t valuable? Leona was his son yet they dare say that?

· That day, the king felt his heart bleed as he saw his son’s state. That was his son, the son that gave him joy and pride, yet he was treated like this. It was times like this he loathed being king. Being forced to continue working without being able to give his sons the attention and care they needed – who knows what they were actually going through? Were they suffering? Were they getting hurt? Was this incident an everyday thing?

· The day Leona showed his affections towards his father was on his birthday. There wasn’t a grand party nor a feast prepared like how Farena’s birthday would be celebrated. But it was okay because it was only on his birthday did Leona get to spend a whole entire day with his father

· Yet that year’s birthday was the most special birthday for Leona since his father, for the first time ever, showed him what the king called “his secret place”

· After spoiling his son the whole day, the king took Leona to a grassland during the evening. When the sunset past and the stars started showing, the king would talk about how he came here during the nights and relax, passing on the story of how the great kings would be watching over them from the stars

· When Leona asks if the king had shown this place to Farena and his father answers with a no, Leona suddenly tackled his father into a hug, tears running down his cheeks

· At first, the king was worried, but instantly felt relief and touched as he heard thank you’s tumble from Leona’s trembling lips

· It was also the first time ever the king ever heard Leona say “I love you” as Leona continued to show his love for his father for the first time

· The king never heard Leona talk about himself but today, a day he cherishes with all his might, being shown this side of Leona made the king felt he finally did at least one thing right

· Leona was filled with joy as he was the only one to know of this place his father called a “secret”. It means his father holds him close to his heart, right? That means his father actually loves him!

· When Leona finally calms down, the most beautiful smile that would only be seen once in a life time blooms on his face. It made his father smile even more with affection when he hears how his son wanted to become like him when he grows up

· He knows that he couldn’t give Leona false hope. That it’ll only hurt him more in the future if he doesn’t tell him now. But the king couldn’t find it in himself to tell Leona he wasn’t going to get the throne. Silently, as he held Leona close and patting him on the head, he silently begs for forgiveness

· All of these memories resurface as Leona wakes up, finding himself in that same place on his birthday, a few weeks later after Farena was crowned

· He wanted to use his unique magic to destroy that place his father once called a “secret” just like how he destroyed all the gifts his father had given to him. But in the end, he found himself unable to do it and leaving with annoyance and frustration

· Without Leona knowing a shooting star passes through a sky down vertically, as if it was a tear coming from a certain star that shined the brightest that night

#twisted wonderland #twst #leona kingscholar #hc #headcanon #bittersweet #theory #twst leona

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laceymorganwrites · 4 years

Text

Keigo

Word Count: 2,133

Pairing: Hawks x reader

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 267, Dabi is Touya Theory, angst with a happy ending, swearing, hurt and comfort

A/N: chapter 267 happens

me: *cracks knuckles* (also, I wanted to post this before the next chapter Comes out so there are two Posts today!)

All of his life Hawks was looking for the meaning of it. He came to the conclusion that there simply wasn´t one. How could there be? Heroes were selfish, he was no better, just a weapon of the government to do with as they pleased. Sure, he was popular and working alongside his personal savior, Endeavor, was exciting and a privilege. But that was about it.

He had to shed his name from a young age on and with it the chance of ever building his own personality and character. Hawks didn´t believe in anything but what he got taught and told, but over the years, now especially, that facade started to crumble.

He wanted to be normal, he wanted to be Keigo Takami again, he was sick of his fans, didn´t they know that he was lying to all of them?

Nothing in his life was true, nothing genuine, there was no happiness in it, only pretentious public appearances he learned to hate.

It didn´t bother him much in the beginning, he was hopeful, naive and dumb. He just wanted to be a hero like his idol, was that really so wrong?

Over the years Keigo realized that he could´ve been a hero if only the government didn´t get to him first. Maybe if they never picked him up and he became a hero on his own, he´d have a clear conscience by now, he would´ve never had so many secrets and blood on his hands as he did now.

Hawks couldn´t even tell anyone about his inner conflict, about the regret he felt, how he wished to have never taken the job in the first place, especially his current mission. The mission he failed like an idiot. He couldn´t stop beating himself up over it.

You were a police officer, quirkless, apparently useless in today´s society and Hawks envied you.

He found himself wandering aimlessly at night often after he took the mission, wondering if it was the right decision.

You were just finishing up arresting some burglars when you saw him, a frown formed on your face. You always thought heroes were so stuck up and mocked people like you, you found yourself wondering if the police or fire force were even needed anymore, after all the heroes were there to save the day, weren´t they?

But all they did was having flashy fights in public, leaving the dirty clean up work to you.

No, you weren´t a great fan of heroes, but you gave up speaking your mind on the matter since everyone always said you were just jealous that they had quirks and you didn´t.

Of course that was bullshit, you didn´t need a quirk to survive.

Hawks sighed, shoulders slumping, watching you leave the station.

“Rough day, number two?” you chuckled, stopping in your tracks as you saw the hero that was usually so laid back and easy to talk to. But now he just looked so wrecked.

“You have no idea” he gave you a charming smile, dramatically positioning his hand over his chest.

The comment made you roll your eyes as you tried very hard to suppress a smile. Naturally, you failed. How couldn´t you in the presence of the winged hero? Sure, he was handsome, but you never cared about that, you only cared about the fact that he was witty, he seemed like a guy who could make everyone laugh, and damn, you really could use a good laugh right now.

“You shouldn´t complain so much, you get paid a lot, everyone loves you… you´re not completely understaffed and have to take care of all the break ins and thieves in a ten person team” you said, mockingly, yet there was truth in your words. You and your team split the city so that each of you covered a certain area. Every day you spent your day running after criminals, putting them behind bars and then running after other ones. And still you did it, if you didn´t no one would, it would only mean more work for the heroes and to be honest, most of them, at least the top tier ones, they already had their hands full. You saw it on TV every day, heroes battling villains that made your blood freeze, you could never stand up to them.

“I think you´d get the job done faster with me around” he rested his arms behind his head, a precious smile on his face. If you´d only know how fake that smile was and how honest his words were.

“Not gonna lie, we could really use someone like you in our team” you sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile.

Hawks visited you more often after work, he felt like all of his responsibilities were gone whenever he was with you. He treasured those moments, he could finally let go and be himself, whoever that might be, but that was the great thing, with you, he could explore all that. And over time he even started flirting with you, something you tried to ignore for as long as possible. You didn´t want to be just another one of his fangirls, but honestly, why did you care? He was a hero, the number two at that, he could get whatever he wanted and who were you to deny him? You had to admit he was pretty cute and it did feel nice to have his attention. So you flirted back, exciting to see where this would go.

Never once in your life did you think that a stable relationship would be born of your meetings.

And yet, here you were, Hawks was now the most precious part of your life, you didn´t want to imagine it without him in it. He opened up to you, not completely letting you in on his inner conflict and identity crisis yet, but enough to show you that he fully trusted you.

He knew he never should´ve engaged in this relationship with you, it was a distraction that could cost him or you his life, it was a possible danger to his mission. And it was his way to say fuck it. It was a fuck you to the government, oh how he thrived on it. Not that that was all you were, to him you were everything, you were his calm and peace, his normality. And normal was something he really craved in his life.

You only ever saw him at his worst, tired and completely broken after coming home from yet another stressful day at work, this mission really took his toll on him but you never asked about it, thinking that it was better this way.

His mission was over however, you saw it all over the news, the heroes have won. They all looked equally worn out and injured.

After a week everything seemed to have calmed down, the heroes in the hospital were finally released and everything went back to normal.

Only that Hawks still hasn´t returned. And that scared you.

You wanted to know where he was, if he was alive, you wanted to see him, but nobody would let you.

You spent your days awake, jumping at every motion at the door, but it wasn´t him. Of course you still had to work, but you couldn´t focus on anything else but Hawks.

Again you went home, had a shower and prepared food for yourself. You still made too much, hoping he´d come back to you. Maybe he was just tired of you, which you couldn´t blame him for, but the thought alone still hurt enough.

So focused on staring at the stove, you didn´t notice the door opening, you only realized that Hawks was back when he hugged you from behind and you felt his weight, instantly calming your nerves.

“Babe!” you turned around, hugging him back, not looking at him completely, not taking in all the damage he took. He was back, that was all that counted for now. You had to calm down first, crying into his shoulder, you didn´t want to let go of him.

“Are you hurt?” you finally let go of him, frantically wiping the tears off your face and freezing when you saw his state. His eyes were empty, filled with tears as he sobbed, whatever happened, it broke him and it broke your heart. He had scarred burns all over his face, his wings were gone and so was his usual happy aura.

“Yes...” he answered your question, nodding and burying his head in your chest, pulling you close to him, he needed your touch right now, needed to know you were there for him like always.

“Hey, why don´t we sit down, hm?” you turned off the stove, you could prepare the food later, and took Hawks´ hand to lead him to the couch.

There he curled up to you, his arms around your waist and his face buried in your lap, crying out his tears and you let him. You caressed his back, soothing him, putting your hands in his hair and gently tugging at the strands.

“I killed him….I killed my friend” he sobbed, you didn´t say anything. He´d tell you about the mission when he was ready.

“He didn´t even do anything! He was a good man….and still I…. I´m a murderer. I´m not a hero. I´m not what they made me, I´m just a piece of shit” he cried out, his words hurt you, whatever happened there, it changed him. He wasn´t the man he used to be.

Hawks raised his face to look at you, his eyes were desperate.

“I have a name, you know?” he pleaded, clinging onto your shirt like a lost child.

“Of course you do, baby...you just never told me” you rubbed his back again, then taking his face in your hands to caress it gently, careful not to touch the wound too much.

“Because I wasn´t allowed to….they said I didn´t need it anymore...that I could become a hero. But it was all a lie...” he called out, trying to explain what was going on in his head.

“Touya knew it...he told me, he was my friend too...and I couldn´t stop him...I couldn´t help him...we were friends when we were children, but he couldn´t take it...he got away, he was saved. I was too stupid to understand, but he managed to make it. And now I understand him, now I understand why he wants to destroy the hero society… I mean do we really need heroes? We barely won, I failed my mission, I failed to be a hero, I can´t do anything right...and the others, they just play along, they still believe in it” he rambled, it didn´t really make sense to you, but you listened. You wondered who Touya was and what happened to Hawks and him in their past. But now wasn´t the time to ask.

“What´s your name?” you asked after he calmed down a bit.

Hawks looked up to you as if you were an angel, which to him, you were.

“I´m Keigo Takami” he answered and in this moment the last shackle that bound him to the government shattered. He had a name and he had every right to use it. He was human, he had an identity and he was allowed to figure out what that was, he mattered.

“I missed you, Keigo. I´m glad you´re back” you hugged him and he melted into the hug.

Over the course of the next months Keigo told you everything about his past, his mission, his childhood friend Touya and everything else. He wasn´t Hawks anymore, his wings were gone for good, therefore he was quirkless now.

But that didn´t mean he was useless.

The two of you were a great tag team in the police, he could smile again, genuinely this time, it was like waking up from a nightmare in your comforting arms. He could be Keigo, he could be himself, he could be happy and smile and actually mean it this time.

It was relieving beyond belief.

Working at the police was relaxing and exciting at the same time, he loved working there, nobody there tried to control him and make him do things against his moral code while calling themselves heroes and the best for society.

And most of all, he loved you. He loved living with you, waking up and going to sleep in your arms, returning home to you, watching bad movies and making out on the couch, talking to you, hearing your opinions on things, just your presence was enough to brighten his day.

He was so lucky to have you.

Now that he lost his wings, he also lost everything that held him back, everything that forbade him to be himself.

#boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagine #boku no hero academia oneshot #boku no hero academia hawks #hawks x reader #hawks #keigo takami #bnha #bnha imagine #bnha oneshot #bnha hawks #my hero academia #my hero academia imagine #my hero acaedmia oneshot #my hero academia hawks #mha #mha imagine #mha oneshot #mha hawks

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third-rail-vip · 4 years

Text

20 OTP Questions

Tagged by @tarberrymentats thank you so much for the tag! <3

I’m going to tag @minuteminx @asaara-writes @pchberrytea @mayihavethisdanse @potatocrab @laurelsofhighever and anyone else who wants to, tag me because I’d love to see your OTPs!!

I might have gone a bit overboard, so I’ll put most of this under the cut…

Mac x Ivy

1. Who can outdrink the other?

Oh, definitely Mac. They learnt that the first night they met, not that she was trying to keep up it’s just Ivy is a thorough lightweight. He didn’t like questions, she can’t help but ask them, so the deal was one shot per question. She is smol and cannot hold her booze. Two centuries on ice and she seems to have lost some of the tolerance she built up in college. Magnolia had to tell Mac to make sure she got to the Rexford ok. Of course, en route she picked up multiple jobs and talked Fred into giving them 500 caps for going to Hallucigen. Mac was gobsmacked, it was the beginning of a beautiful if unexpected friendship.

These days if you give her too much, you’ll find her sat on the floor in the corner of Railroad parties with Tinker Tom talking conspiracy theories.

2. Who says “i love you” more?

Probably Mac, but not because he loves more, but because he’s definitely the more vocal of the two of them. Words are one of his main love languages. Plus, he’s lost a partner before (which Ivy hasn’t) and there were things unsaid in that relationship that he’ll always regret, so he knows the importance of telling the people you love how you feel, and telling them often. Ivy is more of a show than tell, even though she’s the type to fall first, she’s been hurt before by exactly that so she’s slower to use the words and breaks them out less often. She shows she loves him through her actions.

3. Who has trouble sleeping alone?

Very much Ivy, not that Mac doesn’t to some degree, but this is a scary new world for Ivy and she feels very much safer having someone there. She was a wreck when he was away in the Capital Wasteland and really struggled to sleep at all. She is more likely to not be able to get to sleep if she’s alone. Mac is more likely to have a disturbed night, waking up feeling an absence.

4. Who swears more?

Ivy. She may look sweet but she really can have a foul mouth. She will basically swear for Mac as well. He’ll cut himself off and she’ll fill in the blank. She resists the urge, or at least desperately tries to pick other words at the last second when the kids are about. It doesn’t always work well.

5. Who does more of the housework?

It’s shared. Ivy makes more mess though, she’s clean but untidy. She seems accumulate way more stuff than Mac does, and boy does she spread it around the house. She’s also very distractible, so he can get back and find a half-risen loaf in the kitchen, which she’ll have left, having had a thought about something she wanted to draw while it was still in her mind. So, the sketchbooks are out in the living room, but then she’ll see a sketch of Mac and remember she was going to fix the arm on his duster again. And so on and so forth. Mac isn’t without guilt, there are always comics on various surfaces, left open (taking up maximum room) to show Ivy or the boys the best bits. If Codsworth had lungs, he’d hyperventilate. She will tidy up after herself though, when she realises she’s left everything all over. I mean, nobody wants to hear a Mr Handy cry pre-recorded tears.

6. Who forgets their anniversary?

They don’t technically have an anniversary, actually getting together was a bit of a messy and protracted process. The easiest date to remember is Halloween when they first met in Goodneighbour. Maybe one day they’ll have an official anniversary for something else, but for now.

7. Who steals the duvet in their sleep?

Sometimes they can have a bit of blanket tug of war going on depending on who got into bed first. Ivy was nesh even before the war, but two hundred years on ice has done her no favours. She gets criminally cold hands and feet. If they were just sharing a bed before they got together, Ivy would 100% steal that duvet, but these days she just wraps around her mercenary and they sleep like a little two person blanket burrito.

8. Who keeps the other awake at night with their snoring?

Neither keeps the other awake. Mac is the one who snores, but they are little damn kitten snores, like his sneezes. If anything is going to keep Ivy awake, it’s him falling asleep first and her just silently going “awwwwww” at her adorable boyfriend.

9. Who finds stray animals and begs the other to let them keep them?

This is totally Ivy and cats. They have dogmeat of course, but he’s his own man and he’s always welcome with them, but he’s not really theirs. Ivy love cats, she will sneak off to play with settlement cats when she should be doing far more minutemen type activities. They are definitely slowly accumulating cats at their most regularly visited settlements.

10. Who usually makes dinner?

Ivy enjoys cooking most out of the two of them, and she’s rather good at it. Getting better all the time as well since her and Codsworth are doing their best to remember and collect pre-war recipes, or at least work out how to make equivalents. Mac is a reasonable cook, but over the years he’s generally been happy to exist on pre-war ‘just add water’ kind of food, rather than cooking from scratch, which is definitely Ivy’s jurisdiction. But if she’s cooking, and if he can persuade Codsworth to leave them to it, he loves to cook with Ivy. Even more so when the kids want to get involves too.

11. Who plays their music out loud?

Oh god, they both do. The pipboy radio is always going. Turning it right up and singing along is almost mandatory. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you might catch Ivy playing the guitar or the piano and singing. She’s usually shy about it, but she’s good. She’s performed once at The Third Rail as a birthday present.

12. Who hogs the bathroom?

Given the opportunity of a hot shower in Vault 81, you will lose Ivy for so long you’d think she’d drowned. Drenching herself in enough scolding hot water to supply a minor settlement, truly is the most self-indulgent of self-care. Mac isn’t the biggest fan but he can be persuaded. The only time he’ll hog the bathroom is when it’s time to keep that goatee in tiptop condition. He’s very particular about it.

13. Who gives the most compliments?

Like with saying ‘I love you’ most, Mac is definitely the one who lays on the compliments. He learned early on that Ivy isn’t used to being complimented like that, or at least, it’s been a very long time since she was treated that way. He’s almost made it a personal mission to set that right. How easily she blushes at them is just an added bonus.

14. Who usually starts/causes arguments between them?

They aren’t an argumentative couple, from past experience, Ivy does not cope well with that kind of confrontation within a relationship. They are more likely to snark if something has annoyed them, but are actually really good at reading each other’s body language for when something they’ve done has upset the other. But if it comes down to it, Mac is more likely to be the one to get into a more heated discussion about something that’s upset him. Ivy is the one to calm a situation. The only time they’ve had an actual stand up row was during Blind Betrayal.

15. Who isn’t afraid to embarrass the other in public?

They aren’t afraid of a bit of public bantering, and will definitely play up for an audience if they’re in the right mood. Ivy is a little more inclined to publicly tease Mac in one way or another, but that might be more because Mac suspects she can deal it out better than she can take it, rather than her being the more equipped to do it. Although when it comes to quietly flustering her in public, that is very much Mac’s jurisdiction.

16. Who gives the other cringeworthy pet names?

There’s a definite teasing edge to most of the nicknames they call each other, they’re both more comfortable with being called them when there isn’t too big of an audience around. But I guess Mac would be more embarrassed by Ivy’s habit of calling him anything beginning with ‘sweet’ – it’s not good for his tough mercenary image, you know. Mac doesn’t care who hears him call Ivy ‘angel’, he’s being calling her it for so long (way longer than they’ve been together) but he might draw the line at shouting ‘kitten’ across Diamond City marketplace. Most other names they call each other are more along the lines of compliments or abbreviations of their names.

17. Who fusses over the other when they get sick?

Ivy is definitely the more diligent medic, and a very well qualified worrier. So when Mac is hurt, she’s all over that, and he regularly jokes that she carries enough gear to set up a small field hospital with her at all times. Not that that habit hasn’t saved their asses on multiple occasions. Mac is more likely to get genuinely scared if Ivy is badly hurt or sick because of past experience. When it comes to just being a little bit poorly, Mac will milk it like an absolute drama queen. Ivy is a soft touch and will let him. But she’s also very good at telling when he’s better and is just looking for extra attention. She’ll make up ‘treatments’ to see if he’ll keep up the charade and how committed he is to being waited on hand and foot.

18. Who finds it impossible to stay angry at the other for long?

For a guy who can mature a grudge like a fine wine, Mac has never ever been able to stay mad at Ivy. Not even in those early days when she was ‘useless’ and they barely knew each other. Mac melts at those big brown eyes, even if he tries to keep the frowns on the surface, all the anger goes in an instant. It’s rare for her to get angry at him, but if the hurt is real then she can hang onto it until he’s shown that he’s earned back her trust. It took him a while to win her back after coming back from the Capital Wasteland having not sent word at all since he left.

19. Who clings to the other for comfort when they’re sad or scared?

Ivy would be the first to cling to Mac when she’s scared, in fact she was, after very early close call. That experience rather reinforced Mac as a safe place for her, bearing in mind she’s known him from just a week after escaping the vault, he’s definitely been a grounding presence for her. When something is wrong, the first place she will seek comfort is in his arms, even from long before they were together. Mac doesn’t break down until they’ve known each other for a lot longer, but he feels safe enough by then being that vulnerable with Ivy – it’s difficult because he has always had a habit of putting himself in a protector role in so many of his relationship with people that allowing himself to be seen as scared or even sad is difficult for him. But once those floodgates are open, nothing would stop him from seeking comfort from her, even when things are awkward between them.

20. Who is more ‘physically passionate’? (hugs, kisses, or maybe more…)

When it comes to big public displays, it would probably be Mac (not in the early days though, he was definitely more private then) but he likes it known that they’re together – especially to that one dude from diamond city security who keeps hitting on her. Ivy is more for subtle displays in public; holding hands, cheek kisses etc. Although there was one incident…anyway. Privately they are equally likely to be all over each other.

#otp 20 questions meme #this turned out big!#mac x ivy #then i met you #maccready #robert joseph maccready #ivy kendrick #maccready x sole survivor #maccready x f!solesurvivor #sole survivor #my art #gorgeous screenshot by mayihavethisdanse

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blackbatsnwitchshats · 3 years

Text

New Opportunities

Chapter 7

Chapter Summary:

AFO/Ichidai: hey, hi, i'm karma ;)

Bakugou: *shocked Pikachu face*

______________________

The pleasant surprise on Midoriya's face when he found Ichidai waiting for him by the koi pond was incredibly humbling.

The other boy had come out of the building looking miserable, glancing his way for but a short moment before dropping his gaze to the ground again. Though, another look towards him caused Midoriya to jolt up in excitement when he realized he hadn't been stood up. To Ichidai, it wasn't unlike seeing a shelter puppy run towards him -a big ball of anxiety smothered by even greater hope.

"You're here!"

"I am," Ichidai nodded. "Though, I have to ask where your lunch is?"

"Oh! I -uh-"

Midoriya fumbled his words for a while before ultimately looking back down as his feet, almost ashamed.

Ichidai raised an eyebrow and stated, "Someone stole your lunch money."

He must have hit the nail on its head, because Midoriya sighed and his shoulders drooped like he was a wilting flower. "Yeah."

"Was it Bakugou?"

"No."

Both of them were quiet for a beat before Ichidai hummed and made room for him on the bench. "Well, then I guess I'll just have to share my lunch with you today."

"Suzuran!" Midoriya yelped, going ramrod straight and waving his hands in front of himself. "You don't have to do that! I'll be fine!"

However, his own stomach contradicted him by speaking up at that moment. It growled, loudly, and Midoriya looked down at himself in betrayal. Of course Ichidai couldn't help but chuckle, and that only made him cover his bright red face in embarrassment.

"You're right; I don't have to. I want to, though. So here," Ichidai said as he took half of his sandwich and held it out to him.

Midoriya peeked at him from between his fingers. "You're sure you're okay with sharing?"

"One-hundred percent."

"Well," He hesitated a bit longer before taking the sandwich and sitting down on the bench. "...Okay."

Midoriya took a bite and smiled. "This is good. Did you make it?"

"No," Ichidai shook his head. "My guardian did."

"Your guardian?" Midoriya asked curiously.

"He looks after me and my older brother. Our parents are no longer with us," Ichidai explained.

"Oh... I'm sorry."

Ichidai waved off his concern. "It's okay. You didn't know."

"Anyway, what about you?" he prompted as he bit into his own half of the sandwich.

"It's... uh... mostly just me and my mom. I don't have any siblings, and my dad is overseas for work."

"Must be pretty quiet at your house."

"Yeah, but we find things to do. Mom took up sewing as a hobby and I... well, I write."

Ichidai had noticed. If Midoriya wasn't doing assignments, he was writing in that separate notebook of his. He'd never gotten close enough to see what was in it though.

Now would be the perfect time to ask.

"You write? Creatively?" Ichidai tilted his head. "Is that why you're always carrying that beat up Compos book with you?"

Midoriya fidgeted his feet nervously. "Er... Yes and no. I do quirk analysis."

"Really?" Ichidai perked up not unlike a squirrel at an offering of nuts. "That's pretty neat!"

His own sincerity and exuberance almost startled him.

Midoriya himself was certainly taken aback by it.

Toning it down slightly, Ichidai asked, "May I see?"

Midoriya hesitated a bit before reaching into his backpack. "I guess, ...though -just letting you know- it can get a little... dark... sometimes."

"That's alright."

Ichidai opened the clearly beloved notebook and began reading.

Halfway through the second entry, he muttered, "You're very thorough... and you said you do it just as a hobby?"

"Uh... yeah. It's something I've been doing it since I was little. So I've kinda gotten the hang of knowing what to look for."

"This is amazing, Midoriya. You could be a professional quirk analyst."

Flipping forward a few pages, Ichidai was further impressed. The attention to detail in the other boy's observations was astounding.

"Most of your work is about heroes," he noted as he closed the notebook and handed it back. "Do you like them?"

"Yeah! Heroes are awesome!"

Goodness -the amount of glee in that answer was second only to Midoriya's joy upon finding Ichidai waiting for him.

"All Might's my favorite, but what about you? Do you like heroes?"

Ichidai just barely managed to keep a straight face at the mention of his arch enemy, shrugging in an effort to make his grimace look more neutral than disgusted. "Eh... I'm more interested in their quirks than the heroes themselves. Though, if I have to pick one, ...probably Fatgum. He has a cool quirk and doesn't seem like all that bad of a person. Everything I've seen and heard about him has been pretty positive over all."

"Fatgum, huh? I don't think I've looked into him yet. He works closely with the police, doesn't he?"

"Right. From what I understand, the way his quirk works-"

The bell for the end of lunch interrupted him.

"I guess we'll have to save this for later. After school?"

"Sure!"

________________

"You two have gotten rather friendly. You dating or something?" Bakugou jeered at them one morning.

Ichidai sneered back, "Why are you asking? Jealous?"

Rebuffing the blond had become his norm in the past few weeks. He'd thought Bakugou had been annoying before, but -now that Ichidai was friends with Midoriya- he'd gotten at least ten times worse.

Following them around. Asking too personal questions. Just generally being a nosy little bastard.

It was like Bakugou had some sort of complex involving Midoriya, and he couldn't stand not having the green haired boy and his attention all to himself.

Though, Midoriya for his part did seem to be losing some form of interest in his bully. He wouldn't answer Ichidai when he broached the subject, which made him curious, but Ichidai was more than willing to drop it in favor of more interesting topics.

Like quirks.

He and Izuku could talk about quirks for hours.

They didn't always agree on everything, like possible sources and applications, but they never felt the need to argue either. They'd yet to get bored of each other; their ideas, theories, and general flow of conversation never ran dry. There was always a new hero -a new quirk- to peak their interest.

They got along like a house on fire, and -for whatever reason Ichidai couldn't quite understand- Bakugou took offence to that.

Either way, Ichidai was having a blast rubbing it in his face.

When he wasn't making a nuisance of himself planting relatively harmless traps for Aldera's faculty failures, he was monopolizing as much of Midoriya's time as he was allowed. Partially because Ichidai knew the pathetic sharks would swarm the green-haired boy as soon as he left, but mostly because he was actually having fun with someone for the first time in goodness knew how long.

All For One couldn't remember the last time he'd genuinely enjoyed someone's company. He'd been so caught up in running his criminal empire that making any sort of personal connections just didn't happen. Not to mention the fact it just wasn't a good idea in the first place.

Now though ...now he could without worry, and he wasn't going to let some two-bit wanna-be hero brat ruin it for him.

"Nah. I just wanna know why you're wasting your time with the deku. You do know he's quirkless, right?"

In his peripheral, Ichidai could see Midoriya shift in discomfort. Probably worried he was going to drop him as a friend like a hot potato.

It made Ichidai wonder how many times it had happened, because he had no doubt it actually had.

"Yeah? And what of it?"

"So you do know; you just don't care. Why?" Bakugou huffed, "It's not like he's going to amount to anything or do anything important. He's useless."

"Useless, huh?" Ichidai raised an eyebrow, humming, "Well, ...if he's useless, then you're worthless."

Bakugou's mouth dropped along with the rest of their classmates'. Even Midoriya, standing just beside Ichidai's desk, couldn't believe the words that had just come out of his mouth. They all looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

"What did you just say?" Bakugou asked quietly as he clenched his fists.

Ichidai rolled his eyes. "You heard me."

Bakugou launched himself at Ichidai, fists flying. He yet again aimed for Ichidai's head, but missed as Ichidai lowered himself in his seat and braced his shoulders against the window sill. Glass rained down around them. Neither boy paid any attention to it though as Ichidai brought his feet up and planted them firmly on Bakugou's hips, kicking the blond off of him.

Bakugou flew back into several empty desks, their metal legs screeching over the tile floor.

He pulled himself up from the floor and snarled, glaring death at Ichidai. He tensed, preparing to tackle Ichidai again, before the classroom door slammed open to reveal their teacher and the principal.

"What on earth is happening in here?!"

Thinking quickly, Ichidai pointed to Bakugou and stood up to reveal the newly broken window next to his seat. "Bakugou broke the window trying to punch me!"

Classic.

Bakugou pointed back at Ichidai and opened his mouth, likely to deny the claim, but the arm he raised was the bloody one he'd used to punch the window. There was no getting out of trouble now. The evidence was clearly stacked against him, in plain view.

Repeatedly glancing between Bakugou and the window, the principal looked just about ready to blow his top. The anger in his voice was clear as he spoke, barely managing to keep himself from yelling. "Young man, this is absolutely unacceptable. Grab your things and meet me in my office. Now."

He then turned and marched out of the room.

Their teacher heaved a heavy sigh once the other man was gone. Looking to Bakugou, he said, "You heard him, kid. I'll call the nurse and let her know you're coming. She can escort you after you get that hand of yours looked at."

Bakugou grumbled under his breath, but nonetheless gathered his things. Shooting scalding looks Ichidai's way all the while, he stomped to the door and slammed it shut behind him.

"Alright class, fix your seats. There's still plenty of work to do. Those math problems aren't going to solve themselves."

________________

Later, during their walk home, Midoriya asked, "Suzuran, why did you do that? Earlier today..."

"Do what?"

"Call Kac- Katsuki worthless."

"Oh, that," Ichidai shrugged. "I wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine."

"He's always calling you such horrible things, and I thought, "Why not return the favor with something equally as cruel? It'd only be fair, considering everything he's done." I figured that if he wants to go around calling people awful names, he should at least be able to handle receiving the same gestures in kind. As we saw earlier though, that's obviously not the case."

Midoriya nodded, quieting for a moment. Rubbing his arm, he asked, "You really don't mind that I'm quirkless?"

Ichidai pursed his lip in thought before answering, "Yes and no. I care in terms of what it means for you, but it doesn't hold any weight in my decision to be your friend."

"Really?"

Midoriya looked at him so warily yet hopefully that Ichidai simply couldn't bring himself to do anything other than reassure him.

Bumping his shoulder against Midoriya's, he said, "Really really."

It wasn't his intention to make Midoriya cry, but that's exactly what happened.

Though, Ichidai supposed he didn't mind. Happy tears were leagues better than sad ones.

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