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tteokdoroki · 3 years

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waves that hurt | k.bakugou + i.midoriya.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn!reader x izuku midoriya.

♡ word count: 3.04K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, hurt, angst and comfort.

♡ summary: dark days mean dark waves that crash across your mind, intrusive and mean the waves pull you under— but they are the helping hands that pull you up and let you breathe.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy tw for depression, intrusive thoughts and self depreciation, self doubt and low self-worth. this fic is written mostly from personal experiences and may not be accurate to how everyone feels! mentions of therapy.

♡ author’s note(s): this is my contribution to @doinmybesthere ‘s mental health awareness collab, this is kinda personal to me and something i experienced recently!! i hope it can provide some comfort to anyone out there, please don’t forget to check out everyone else’s works and i hope you’re all safe ‘n well <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

“kacchan, it’s much worse this time, i really think you should come home early tonight.”

deku whispers into the phone, his marred hands rub slow and soothing circles into your back from over the duvet— you can feel his warmth, light and airy through it but he feels and sounds much further away. a million miles across a dark ocean that trickles through your thoughts, intrusive and mean, keeping you under and away from clear air.

you wouldn’t want to pull him into this, bother him with the way you drown in dark thoughts— so you pull away from your boyfriend and tuck yourself away into the sheets.

izuku doesn’t retract his hand even as you pull away, listening to katsuki grunt orders down the phone— make sure yn’s eaten, make sure yn’s had water. basic things you should be able to do on your own but can’t, paralysed by the anxiety and depression that clamps down on you like a vice and refuses to let you up so you can just breathe. you want to breathe and not feel like the world is crashing down on you, to have a second to yourself where everything seems like it’s okay.

brushing fingers over the nape of your neck, toying with the coils of your baby hairs, your boyfriend speaks, only gently. “baby,” says quietly, his weight causing the bed to dip. “katsuki will be home soon, do you want to come with me to let him in?” you shrug, a sick feeling twisting in your gut. you see the black tendrils and waves in the back of your mind, bringing forth a new batch of ugly words that force you down. are you really that much of a burden these days that katsuki has to call it quits on work for you? “how are you feeling?”

you don’t know, you don’t know how to tell him that every thought you have hurts and there’s a pain in your chest with every breath you take. “i don’t know, it’s just...bad izu…” you want to explain how you feel deep inside, but the words are trapped like balls of tar in your throat— fear that if you say something he’ll walk away.

“you don’t have to say anything, don’t force yourself to…” he speaks with a soft voice, cotton to your ears in an attempt to soothe you. you can just about feel the clean air flowing through your lungs at the sound— it tells you he loves you, no matter what and you almost believe it before sinking back under. “let’s get you some water okay? wouldn’t want kacchan scolding us would we?”

the joke hangs in the murky and heavy air for a few seconds before you muster a small smile— your green haired boyfriend lets out a tiny sigh of relief and pressed a kiss into your hairline, the affection simmers under your skin and briefly brings light to your dark mind as izuku starts leading you to the kitchen.

you’re curled up in izuku’s lap when the front door pops open with a click— signifying your other boyfriend had arrived home. you flinch, hiding yourself in the blankets keeping you warm and locking away the dark thoughts from the eyes of your lovers.

part of you hated them seeing you this way, that’s why you forced yourself to keep everything away from them— but they knew, they always did and always came to your rescue. you didn’t want them to feel like they had to look after you when the days were bad and draining and your mind took hold of everything that you felt. you didn’t need the weight of your own problems on the shoulders of two pro heroes who had enough to deal with.

in the end, you would destroy them like you did with yourself.

you can hear katsuki shedding his gear by the door, feeling his intense and heated presence flood the room and barely penetrate the barrier you created for yourself even while you lay in izuku’s arms. for as long as you’d known the two— even from back in your U.A days, bakugou had hated self-pity, of course in recent years he’d cooled down a little and spoke less on the actions of others but even still, you weren’t sure if you could handle him looking down on you for looking down on yourself and for feeling this way.

the blanket is suddenly lifted from your head, momentarily blinding you with the overwhelming light that is your boyfriend, katsuki bakugou. a twinkle of concern lines his ruby eyes and you can see traces of his charcoal eyeliner that he usually smudges underneath his mask— he’s so beautiful but you’re afraid of the twitches of worry, afraid that he’s mad at you for being the way you are.

“hey honey,” bakugou hums, crouching to your level to cup your cheeks, stress bleeding from his body when you nuzzle into him.

izuku gives you a squeeze, an encouraging one and you nod. “hi,” is all you can muster, afraid of blurting the intrusive words that crackle across your brain.

katsuki sits back on his haunches, looking between you and his boyfriend before he attempts to kick off his shoes. the room is full of a thick, ugly quietness that you know you’re responsible for— they don’t have to say anything, you know that it’s you. because when you’re like this it’s hard for bakugou and midoriya to talk, afraid that they’ll say something to set you off and you afraid that they’ll leave if they knew how you really felt. how trapped and alone you felt inside, how the twisted darkness added tones to your vibes and dragged you down with every step that you took.

they don’t need to say it because it flows from your body like a rushing river and drowns them, fills their lungs and it’s your fault for infecting them with your own bitter taste of life.

“have you eaten?” the blonde of the two boys asks, looking you dead in the eye. you want to answer, but again the viscous back from earlier starts to flood through your body. you try to take care of yourself of these days where you feel it the hardest, but it’s difficult to move and to breathe— and the drive to complete even the simplest of tasks is barely ever there.

you move to speak, caught up in the thick smog of your own brain when izuku gives your body a squeeze and shakes his head, the forest of his hair brushing against your cheek. “you’ve had water, right?” izuku has no problem answering for you. “but nothing to eat,” he whispers, keeping his voice low as if to hide his worry from you— it’s light in his tone but tremors throughout the number one’s body. you feel sick for making him feel that way.

katsuki’s gaze shifts back from his boyfriend to you, his expression unreadable because he knows how you get if they worry too much about you. you’re thankful, partly for that at least, his blank face prevents your mind from reading too deep into things and blaming yourself for things out of your own control.

“‘m makin’ your favourite for dinner. you’ll eat it, no questions asked.” the explosive pro hero states firmly, rising from his place crouched down by your side, obviously not before thumbing over your cheeks to wipe away evidence of your dried tears. “gonna run you a bath too, damn nerd better get you upstairs and ready by the time it’s done.” deku’s chest rumbles with a light hearted chuckle beneath you, lifting the heavy weight of the air within the room— bakugou had always loved brashly, with a fiery intensity that hardly left room for the answer ‘no’, and while izuku was more tame, they balanced one another out in a way that felt more like a warm hug than a battle. they grounded you, in the best of ways.

true to his disgruntled words, your blonde headed boyfriend runs you a hot bath. you don’t miss the addition of lavender oil to the perfectly warm water, the baking soda which you’re sure he only knew to add because his mother had said it would remove the demon spawn toxins in his body. izuku is the one to help you strip, holds your hands as you kick off gross comfort clothes and folds them away, after pressing kisses to your groggy face and chin.

it’s almost funny to see the two biggest and beefiest pro heroes sit on your bathroom floor crossed legged and beside the tub— both of them taking up the majority of the room. you know for a fact that no one would believe the sight unless they saw it, but they’re there. both of them, izuku midoriya and bakugou katsuki are with you encompassed in the silence while you wash away the ugly words that plague your mind and fill the pores of your skin.

they’re still there.

even as sweet lavender water moves in soft waves over your bare body, while black ink moves in the same way across your brain— tattooing self-depreciating thoughts into every inch. you’re not worth their time, they say, you’re wasting it. because how could their precious time be put to good use if you’re taking it up, they could be saving people but instead your boyfriends are here, drowning in your own darkness.

they’re still fucking here.

when they could be out there saving the people who needed it, who were suffering out there in the world outside of your home.

and the suds against your body, the warm water sloshing over your thighs isn’t enough to get rid of the burning sensation of vile phrases printing themselves against your body and clouding every thought that you think. toxic, mean and nasty things you can’t scrub away— none of it is enough to make you feel like you deserve bakugou tenderly lathering you up with the rose scented soap his mother had sent you for christmas or the sips of cool water midoriya brings to your lips in order to prevent you from overheating in the steam of the bathroom.

deku catches the painful twist in your face, pausing his movements to study you. “whaddya need?” you need it to stop, to find something to replace the pain and doubts that fill you.

“water, hotter,” you croak quietly, tears building up in the base of your throat as katsuki catches on and flicks the tap for a stream of hot water to fill the tub. “please,”

they tell you to let them know when to stop if the heat gets too much, but the scalding water burns away any reminders of the self loathing you feel across every inch of your mind, your body and your soul. it stings at the darkness in a way that’s painfully soothing and maybe if you sink under— it could stop hurting completely. if you could slide deeper into the water, would the waves of darkness not crash so hard?

and then the damn breaks, like a tsunami the guilt and anguish you feel crashes over your body and takes control, leaving you fighting for oxygen in the form of your happiness.

everything that you’d been holding back flows freely in salty tears from tired eyes, scorching a path down the apples of your cheeks and mingling with the contents of the tub below. your boys, they don’t notice at first, how you cry and curl in on yourself until you think the world won’t notice you anymore but then just as they always do, they’re pulling you into their warmth and bubble of light— freeing you from black intrusive tendrils even if it means they have to crawl into the tub and wade their through the ocean you’ve made to set yourselves apart.

“don’t—!” you heave with an uneven voice, signs of you falling apart evident in every way. bakugou and deku pull away from you slowly, with dripping shirts and worry written across freckled faces and red eyes. they’re scared for you, hate seeing you force your feelings down and away from them. “please don’t touch me—you’ll—“

the water in the bathtub sloshes from where you retract from their touch, backing yourself up against the wall and away from your boys. “we’ll what?” izuku presses but only gently, keeping you afloat, stopping you from sinking and bakugou stays put in his place, letting the latter talk you down.

you shake your head, trying to think of the right words but it’s hard to, with the crashing waves heavy against your ears. how do you tell your lovers that everything hurts, to think and to feel, to live day by day. you don’t want to bother them with and an extra stress to their busy lives. but you can’t keep it in any longer, bursting at the seams. “you’ll drown. i-if i touch you, i’ll pull you under, you’ll drown with me and you won’t be able to breathe and all those horrible things that i think about will burn in your lungs until you give up fighting like me,” your tears and hiccups interrupt your words, but they listen. bakugou and deku, they listen and they stay.

“yn—“

“because if you do, then all that i feel will be a burden to you— i’ll break in ways that can’t be fixed and you’ll be forced to pick up the pieces and i’ll just be a burden,” you continue, not even pausing to take a breath while you continue to cry. “if you stay to pick up the pieces, you’ll be taken away from people who need you, who are worth saving, and can be helped and—“

you can’t recount how many nights, similar to this in which you wondered why and how two pro heroes could want and love you, why they dealt with your down days that sometimes outnumbered the ups— even if they’d shown you how much they cared, you couldn’t help but feel guilty as if your sadness took up their time to save someone else.

“you can be helped, yn. you don’t have to go what you’re going through alone, you’re worth the time and the effort of helping, no one deserves to suffer,” the green haired of your two boyfriends cuts through the tail ends of your words, still keeping distance until he knows it’s safe to touch you again. there is no look of condescending pity on his face, no sign to show you’ve pulled him into the dark of your mind. it’s just izuku, trying to help you pull through.

you look to katsuki hesitantly, he hasn’t said a word. “but i don’t want to be seen as...as weak, or to worry you because i can’t get out of my own head—“

“y’not fuckin’ weak, we’d never think that of you. we see you try to hide your pain, pretend things don’t get to you when they do. but fuckin’ handlin’ things on ya own can make y’stronger than any two heroes combined,” a look of anger flashes across his features, finer with age and tired with work. but bakugou isn’t angry with you, but with himself for leading you to believe that you were an extra weight on his shoulders. both of their shoulders. “yer not gonna get rid of us or scare us away, we love ya, we’re here for ya ‘n if it’s help that you need or think yer not worthy of, we’ll find some. it’s okay t’ask for help.”

maybe it’s hearing it from someone else, that your pain and your depression is valid, that you’re not an extra weight on the people you love that allows you to come up from a tar-like ocean for fresh air in your lungs, for the waves to calm and the storm raging in your mind to soothe. maybe it’s the two of your boyfriends being there for you despite the fear that you’d scare them away with not being okay that washes away some of the awful things you think.

you know that their support won’t make things go away over night, that it will take time for you to heal but for now you can keep your head above the water just long enough to breathe.

“can i touch you now? is it okay?” deku asks, feeling less distant from you than at the start of the day, but as your body shakes with the last of your tears all you manage is a nod before the number one hero is pulling you into his chest from the tub and the number two is wrapping a towel and his arms around you.

you sit sandwiched between the two, they keep you at the surface— holding you tight while you let out what you’ve been holding back. “we can get some help if y’want it, the doctors...therapy might be nerve wrackin’...scary even, but it can help and we’ll be there every single step of the fuckin’ way,” katsuki reasures you with pets to your head, rocking you back and forth on your bathroom floor, steam clinging to the air that you can finally breathe.

izuku nods along in agreement, pressing kisses to your wet hairline. “we’ll be here. you won’t be alone.”

the murkiness of the water in your mind starts to clear, but only just— their warmth starts to push through the clouds like sunshine brushing against your skin. a light to the dark that's plagued your every waking moment, the waves no longer crash and destroy but instead lap comfortingly at your painful thoughts and tame them just enough for you to have a moment of clarity.

you don’t have to be alone or millions of miles away, you deserve the hands of your loved ones that offer you help instead of pushing them away. the process of healing and things like therapy or meds will be hard sometimes, but katsuki and izuku will be here by your side, to help you manage days where darkness rolls in waves that hurt and help you breathe once again.

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

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The Façade of the Suitor - Pt. 2

***Wow! You guys are really digging this series! Thank you so much for your support 🥰🥰🥰 I don't get to share OCs often, so it's really reassuring to see you guys take to Harlow. She's a character, that's for sure 😅😅 Thanks for all the love! - B*** Summary: MC catches the eye of Lady Harlow, a higher demoness who has had a small feud with the brothers for centuries. She's determined to steal MC from them and keep MC under her wing. The brothers, however, are determined not to let that happen. Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

After a week had passed since the ball, Lucifer had dared to hope that maybe that had been the end of things and that Harlow would just leave him and you alone. But fate had never been on his side. A letter arrived in the mail, sealed with a horrifyingly familiar purple stamp and her nauseating fragrance. It was, of course, addressed to you.

Lucifer's nose wrinkled in distaste. He'd have to dispose of this before you ever caught sight of it. He had turned to do exactly that when he bumped into Satan and dropped the letter. Satan sighed and bent down to pick it up. "I thought that you of all people would be capable of watching where you're," he stopped short as he finally looked at the letter. Satan's jaw clenched as he looked back at Lucifer. "Why in Diavolo's name are you in contact with her again?" Lucifer sighed and tried to take the letter back, Satan stepped out of his reach. He glared at the angry demon. "Not that it's any of your business-" "Not my business?!" Satan snapped before Lucifer could finish his explanation. "She turned you against all of us and nearly tore this family a part and you don't think it's my business if you're in contact with that- that- that snake again?!"

Lucifer growled at the reminder of his past failure. "If I had a choice, I would wipe her foul existence from the face of this realm, but I can't. I loath that woman as much as you do. The letter isn't addressed to me. It's to MC."

Satan's eyes widened and quickly looked down at the letter, seeing your name scrawled in her disgustingly perfect cursive font. He dropped the letter as though it had burned him. "We can't let them see this. Harlow shouldn't even know MC exists! How the fuck did this happen?"

Lucifer picked up the letter, " The exchange program ball. Near the end of the evening, MC and I were relaxing near a wall and Harlow approached us." Satan looked at his brother as though he had two heads. "And you just let her?" This quickly earned the younger demon another glare. "We were at a public event where I was representing our House and Diavolo and MC was representing the human realm. There wasn't much I could do without causing a scene." Satan rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air. "Of course! You'd let Harlow sink her claws into MC just so you can protect your reputation. I forgot who I was talking to for a moment." Beel stepped out of the kitchen and into the room at the sound of the yelling. "What's going on?" "Noth-" "Harlow's trying to get to MC." The "father and son" duo sneered at each other. Beel's eyes widened as his face paled. "Well, we aren't going to let her, right? We can stop her this time. Now we know her tricks. It won't be like last time?" he was staring directly at Lucifer. The eldest felt his stomach twist and churn guiltily at the desperation in Beel's stare. They all knew from experience just how cunning and manipulative Harlow could be. She had targeted Lucifer specifically, and because he let down his guard, his whole family soon became infected by the demoness venom. He refused to let the same happen to you. Lucifer turned on his heel and threw the letter into the fireplace. The three brothers watched as it slowly was consumed by the flames and turned to ash. "Tell the others about what happened. There's no doubt that Harlow will attempt to reach MC again. It's our duty to stop that from happening," Lucifer spoke up. Beel nodded right away before taking off to obey the command. Satan sighed and glanced at Lucifer, "You know this won't stop her. She'll figure out a way to get to MC." Lucifer continued watching the flames. The fire's glow reflecting in his obsidian eyes like a memory flickering in the darkness. "Maybe so, but at the very least it will give us time to come up with a plan on what to do when she does." In the end, Satan had been right. The brothers worked tirelessly together to intercept any letters, bouquets, or baskets that had been sent for you. Asmo kept a collection of the bouquets and gifts in his room, and simply told you that they were objects of admiration from his fans. You had walked in on Beel shuffling through the mail one day, and he had managed to fluster out an excuse before hurrying out of the room and shoving the most recent letter into his mouth. Mammon became even clingier than usual and was always by your side. Although he was physically with you, his mind and eyes were always looking around you for any signs of the demoness that he was trying to avoid. Satan had worked with Solomon to put an enchantment on the House's gates that caused anything that had recently touched Harlow's hands to be incinerated as it passed through the gate. Levi had been forcing you to watch the top ten anime betrayals and any anime with a manipulative or toxic antagonist in hopes that it would help you recognize them in Harlow if she ever got to you and that you would do the right thing and choose your real best friend him (and I suppose the others as well). Belphegor would purposefully fall asleep on you as much as possible to prevent you from leaving the House and therefore heightening the risk of Harlow coming to meet you personally. Lucifer had begun to do his own research on Harlow, once more, and was looking back on his own past experiences with the demoness to gain wisdom on how to outwit her. Despite all of their efforts, it wasn't enough. You came down to breakfast, looking complexed but intrigued as you held a piece of paper with a dreadfully purple broken seal on the top. The brothers froze as Harlow's familiar perfume reached their noses. Levi swallowed his food as he looked at you nervously. "M-MC, what...what do you have there?" You blinked up at them and held up the paper. "It's a letter from

Lady Harlow. A bat flew through my window this morning with this attached to its foot. According to the letter, she's tried more normal means of communication, but had no luck. Hmm, I wonder why?" you pondered out loud as you continued reading the letter. The brothers exchanged worried looks. Lucifer straightened his posture. "What else does it say?" You barely looked over at him as you responded. "Oh, she has invited me to a private luncheon at her manor. Apparently, she'd like to get to know me better." Your words caused everyone at the table to stiffen. "Seems suspicious to me," Belphie stated as he rested his head on your shoulder. "You shouldn't go. She's probably planning to kill you or something but is just pretending to be nice to get you to let your guard down." You smirked down at him. "Hmmm, sounds familiar," despite your joking tone, you noticed the room tense and Belphie looked away in shame. You frowned and placed a hand on his arm. "I...I was joking, Belphie. You know I've forgiven you for that. You've proved that you've changed. We're okay," you looked around at the others, finally picking up on the tension in the room. "What's going on? Why is everyone acting so weird?" Satan sighed and met your eyes. "Harlow is the Lady of Manipulation. She thrives off of playing with others' emotions and desires to get her own twisted wants." "She's dangerous," Lucifer added. You were shocked to see that he was seemingly unable to meet your eyes. Instead, he stared at his plate as though lost in a memory. "She's incredibly skilled at what she does and will worm her way into your thoughts before you're even aware of what's happening. She's cunning and sly," he finally lifted his head to look at you. You shivered at the intense urgency and regret in his gaze. "Lady Harlow is not one that you should give even a second of your time to. If you give her even a single inch, she will take a mile." You frowned and looked back at the letter. It was filled with so many kind words and eloquent phrasing. She had seemed nice enough at the ball, and she went through all this trouble just to send you an invitation. "Thank you for the warning," you spoke sincerely as you looked at the others. "I'll be sure to keep your words in mind and be careful." Mammon scoffed and crossed his arms. "You make it sound as if you're going." "I am." The room burst into a mix of angry proclamations, commands that you were not going, and pleas for you to listen to them. You smiled sympathetically at the brothers. "I know you're worried, but it would be extremely rude to reject a personal invitation like this from a noble, especially after all the effort she went through to have it delivered. I should at least go to see what she wants. I'll have my D.D.D. on me and you can guys can ask me all the questions you want as soon as I get back." Lucifer's eyes searched your expression in a mix of frustration and desperation. "MC did you not hear a single word I just said? One visit is all she'll need. I really must urge you not-" "Lucifer stop," the room fell silent as Lucifer's mouth snapped shut. His gaze hardened at your use of a command. You sighed and ran a hand over your face. "I'm sorry, but this isn't your choice. I know you seem to have...something going on with Harlow, and I will take caution from your words during my visit. But I'm sure I'll be fine. I live with and have befriended seven of the most powerful demons in the Devildom. What's a silly noblewoman going to do to me?" You gently lifted Belphie's head off of you and rose. "I should get ready for the school day. I'm sorry guys. I'll see you all later." As you left, a small piece of hope from within the brothers left with you. Lucifer snarled and downed a glass of wine. "Right," he said bitterly and looked over at Satan, "onto plan c."

*** I hope you guys enjoyed it! I promise you will find out exactly what went down between Harlow and the brothers later on. But for now, let the games begin 😈 Thanks again for all the support and love you've all been giving this series!***

Taglist: @cosmixbun @sufzku @simeonspebble @lovevictoire @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @obeys-world @peachyeevee13 @otome-scribbles @azureusmoonie @poly-bi-mf

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bts-weverse-trans · 3 years

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201123 Weverse Magazine 'BE' Comeback Interview - Jimin

Jimin: “I’m the kind of person who likes to be loved” BTS BE comeback interview 2020.11.23

When he’s talking, Jimin often starts his sentence with phrases like, “I just,” “it just,” “they just …” But then he immediately goes on to open up about his feelings, always providing a sincere response.

On one V-LIVE session back in October, you wore the clothes that you had planned to wear at the airport if you were to go on tour. Jimin: I hadn’t really noticed, but I think I’ve finally come to terms with the reality of our present situation.

By “situation,” you mean how it’s difficult to meet your fans in person? Jimin: Yes. If we had to go on stage in this situation, or if we had to perform our songs, I’m not sure how we would go about accomplishing that. At the same time, It felt like something that was closed up and blocked was opened up again. There isn’t the kind of excitement we got from tour season, though, so it’s easy to feel worn out. But, just like when we’re making new songs, I try to do whatever I can.

BE feels like it’s all about taking care of your feelings and the process of moving forward. Jimin: I had the role of listening to what the members wanted to include in the album, but it’s more a record of the present than it is about our individual feelings. We talked openly about how we’re having a hard time and how we’re trying our best to get over things, and that became the album.

As the project manager for BE, how did you go about gathering and organizing all the members’ ideas? Jimin: I became the project manager because Yoongi recommended I do it, but I didn’t think I had to lead anything along, more just make sure the other members could do their work quickly and easily. Usually that meant asking about their opinions, or passing opinions back and forth with our company. So I would collect ideas, organize them, say, “These are some of the ideas we got back. What do you think?”—ask them again, if they said okay, pass it on to the company, and if they made a song, I sent that over, too.

How did you prod along the members who were taking too long with their ideas? (laughs) Jimin: I would mention them by name in our group chat, and that got them to reply. (laughs) Any time I said someone or other didn’t submit their idea yet, all the others would chime in with, “Hurry up, guys!” and then they’d give it to me.

Sounds like it’s great for one of the members to be project manager. (laughs) How did you accommodate all the different ideas? Jimin: When we first started, we sat down for about an hour and said: If you feel downtrodden, just make a song about feeling desperate; if you want to give others hope, go ahead and write a hopeful song. Let’s find the topic and work from there. And since there’s seven of us, and the album’s going to be about current events, let’s put in one skit to make seven songs; and let’s not put in any solo songs. Let’s make something that we can all work on together.

That approach must have been different from the way you worked on your other recent albums. Jimin: We never said anything like, somebody will make this song and someone else will make that song. We would just take a song and say, Who wants to do this? Who wants to do that? I became more ambitious, and wanted the other members to recognize the work I was doing. And because it was so fun working together, any time I made something, I wanted to play it for them right away. I also loved when they gave me compliments, so that added to the fun. When the songs are eventually finished, we hoped the fans would be able to pick up on all those emotions exactly as we felt them, although there are some songs that didn’t make the cut. (laughs) It was really fun.

You could say that, while it’s important to deliver songs to the fans, the process of creation itself is also important. Jimin: A little while ago, I learned something new about myself: I’m the kind of person who likes to be loved. Looking back, I realized I do what I do not just for the work itself, but to be loved by my friends, family, the group, and fans. It’s been really hard to hold onto those connections, but I felt a fullness once I was sure of that love and kept those relationships close. It was like getting something of my own.

Rather than simply being loved, is it actually a satisfaction arising from the effort involved and the deep sense of trust it builds? Jimin: I used to think more frequently about what I was getting from them than what I was doing for everyone else. Even if I don’t strictly owe our fans or group members anything in return, I feel a deep and sincere appreciation for all the things they do for me. I also saw some people for who they really are, some people who don’t really care about me. Rather than pushing those people away, I learned how to react less emotionally to them. Likewise, I was able to be more emotionally honest with people who are very considerate toward me.

It’s become difficult to express those kinds of feelings to fans these days. The only choice, really, is to talk to them through your songs. What is your message this time? Jimin: There’s a message in every album and music video we make; but you don’t have to understand the message, I just hope you enjoy listening and watching. That’s the first thing. I hope you really like the songs and videos I created while working to not become complacent, so I took great care and practiced a lot to present something perfect to you.

On that note, I think your singing and dancing are changing quite a bit. Your performances in “Black Swan” and “Dynamite” are completely different, but perhaps because of your changed body silhouette, the feel of your dance has become more consistent. As a dancer, what is it you want to express? Jimin: I just hope my emotions come across. I just want the emotions I put into my dancing, actions, and singing to be felt. So I got a lot of feedback, asked around, did some research and found that for each emotion you might express on stage, there’s a body most appropriate for the job. We all have different body types. In order to get the body that can best express my emotions at my age, I went on a strict diet, but I don’t stick to it nearly as intensely as I used to. (laughs)

If you watch your dance in “Dynamite,” your body, especially when you turn away, looks different from before. You look lighter. What effect did your new body have on your dance moves? Jimin: I look how I want to look when I’m around 58 kg, so I went on a diet and lost 5 kg. That’s when I found the look I wanted to present to everyone. I can’t be objective about myself, but there was a certain vibe that I wanted. In the past I tried really hard to be no-frills, and by focusing less on trying something new and more on avoiding mistakes, I prevented myself from advancing any further. But in “Dynamite,” I tried out expressions I’d never tried before. I wanted people to be able to tell that I was really concentrating on this when they watched the video, so for this song, I tried to be sentimental and—how should I put this—I even tried to look suave (laughs) and funny, too . I ended up focusing on painting a single picture rather than on each of the individual elements.

And what is it you wanted to show off? Jimin: We haven’t been able to put on a real show during COVID-19. I wanted to show that we didn’t waste all that time but rather have kept going through it all, that we keep working hard. But portraying “working hard” through dance would look really tiring, so I smiled and danced throughout filming “Dynamite.”

How was that possible? It couldn’t have been easy to keep the whole team motivated. Jimin: With the spread of COVID-19, it took us a while to really believe our rise to the top of the Billboard Hot 100. When we checked our phones and it said we got first place we were amazed, but it was hard to believe, although we were all crying. (laughs) But when COVID-19 first hit, we said, “Ah, it’ll pass quickly and we’ll be right back on tour.” The reason was that we had said, even if it gets tough, let’s give it our all for the next year. Give it our all and collapse.. That was the plan, but we were really disappointed. What was worse was, when I heard it would be hard to have any performances this year, my head … it sort of went blank. My mind was empty. We couldn’t just take a break either. Other people had it really hard but we could keep working. I didn’t know whether we should be happy or sad about it. There were no answers for anything. It was really tough.

How did you get over that? Jimin: If an interviewer or anyone else asked me what my goal was, I told them my goal is to perform with the members for a long time, and that is probably my biggest goal; but I was really saying that to the group: I want to be with you guys for a really long time. I think we conveyed that feeling well to one another. I seriously worried a lot that the group would get exhausted. But they’d be laughing with one another, cheering each other up. We had a lot more time to chat together, so whatever was going on, we could always talk about it over a drink at our home and work it out.

What makes you take your work so seriously? Jimin: I really want to love this job inside and out. If we just look at work as work, all we’ll be after is money, but I never once thought that our group’s dynamic, or the relationship we have with our fans, was based on that. But I think if you’re exhausted mentally and physically, the work becomes a chore, and then your relationships will inevitably suffer. That’s what I was afraid of.

The song “Dis-ease” is about how each member feels about working. How do you feel about your work? Jimin: I don’t consider my main profession, performing and singing, “going to work.”. But when I’m doing something else with the camera right in front of me,that feels like “work.” Singing and performing for our fans isn’t work—it’s something I really, really want to do.

You helped write “Dis-ease,” correct? Jimin: The bridge. I was recording with Pdogg and there was one part that didn’t have a melody, so—should I call it improv?—I was just singing something without thinking about it, and then he asked me to sing that again. So I asked if he was sure, and then he asked me to write the melody, so I ended up writing it.

Some of the other songs on BE have something like that too, but “Dis-ease” somehow feels particularly like old school Korean hip hop. Jimin: I thought so too. I thought of 20 years ago when I sang it. The majority of the song was written by j-hope, so that might just be my thinking (laughs) but I sang it when there was a question mark on who would sing the vocals. I was really doing whatever I wanted, so I sort of had to be restrained (laughs) but it was fun.

Was there any place the vocals changed while recording? There are a lot of parts on BE where you use almost a normal speaking voice. Jimin: I usually already have the big picture set in my mind when I sing, but this time it wasn’t like that. “Life Goes On,” especially—that song’s not about me, but I couldn’t help but empathize with it, so right from the beginning I performed it without having to think about how my voice should sound. I wasn’t thinking about some particular emotion of mine I wanted to express to you. I just recorded exactly the feelings I had as I sang.

There’s a song titled, “Telepathy.” When you streamed yourselves in production on YouTube, the group mentioned the idea of telepathy which made me think you were sending the song directly to your fans. If you could talk to them through telepathy, what would you say? Jimin: People have kind hearts, and I just hope they don’t let that go. You asked about telepathy, but I think we really do have a telepathic connection with our fans. It’s not crystal clear or anything, but I think if we’re sincere then they can feel it somehow. I think that’s why our fans support us and are always by our side.

And what about the other way around? What would you like to hear from your fans? Jimin: One thing I’m always curious about, about our fans, is what’s the hardest thing in their lives. What each of them is struggling with, what’s making them happy—I’m really curious to know. We face our own difficulties as well, so I always wonder if there’s someone in each of our fans’ lives to ask them if they’re doing okay. I hope things get better soon, that people can keep holding on, and that the adults will follow all the rules. Kids don’t have a lot of options right now to do the things they want to do. I imagine a lot of kids see this as something that’s being forced upon them by adults, so I hope the grown-ups will properly explain the situation to the kids so they can help each other too, to end the pandemic.

The news is saying that they’ve made a COVID-19 vaccine, so you might be able to meet your fans sooner than later. What are you going to say to them when you finally see them again? Jimin: I don’t think we’ll say anything. I think we’ll just look at each other for a very long time. And if I’m able to say anything, I’ll probably say, “You made it. Now let’s get back to having a good time.”

Trans © Weverse

#bangtan #jimin #be album #weverse #comeback interview #weverse magazine #201123 #2020

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undertalethingems · 4 years

Note

OK that makes sense!! i was just confused yknow, since in chapter 7 everyone finds out he planned to murk frisk anyway. but in my personal headcanon i kinda think even if he didn’t promise toriel, he wouldn’t have k!lled frisk right off the bat. i kinda feel like he’s too lazy to do something like that especially with no evidence to prove frisk is a murderer (though in the comic he does say that papyrus and toriel changed his mind) thanks for answering!!

adding on to what i just said u might be like “but he literally told frisk they’d be dead where they stood” i kinda think he was just trying to fuck with frisk, especially if he wanted to ward them off from killing anybody in the current or future runs. i dunno

or maybe my concern isn’t that that wasnt sans’ plan but more... i dunno i think most of his friends would be a bit understanding considering his situation lmao

hm... well, i guess my feelings on the “you’d be dead where you stand” phrase is that... it’s an odd thing for sans to joke about. we know what his jokes and trolling are like--and a threat like that really doesn’t seem to be in the same vein. it also comes at a moment where he’s being fairly serious, so it’s not entirely out of the question that he meant it, even if he brushed it off afterward... it also doesn’t really make sense as a threat to keep you from killing everyone, as it comes pretty late in the game and seems... indirect. i dunno. it’s not an easy scene to for me to make sense of, and so i’m going with the headcanon i feel explains it best.

however, i definitely don’t think he really wanted to do it. he only does his ‘bad time’ schitck if it’s literally the worst outcome possible--and he leaves it to the last possible moment, holding out that you might change your ways before you reach that point of no return. But he couldn’t think of any other way to potentially prevent that outcome from being possible in the first place--it’s all too easy to get trapped in your own head, and I think perhaps that happened to him in this case.

And I don’t know that the other characters really understand Sans’ situation--at least not yet, it hasn’t had a chance to really sink in :”D it’s also not something they really expected from him--they only know what he chooses to tell or show them, and hearing he’d had a plan to kill the human they all care about comes as a shock, regardless of whether he had a sound reason for it or not. they certainly have a lot more to think about now, Sans’ plan included =u=;

so, that’s my thoughts on it for now -.-;;

#undertalethingem chats #unexpected guests lore #undertale headcanons #sans (undertale)

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himbohargreeves · 3 years

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The link between diet and autism: a critical analysis of the recent Earth Locker episode and a chance for River to relive her lab report title writing days

Link to the original video

So as I already mentioned I’ve seen a few people talking about the recent episode of the Earth Locker (a podcast by Robert Sheehan, Tom Hopper, and Bryon Knight) where they talk with Tom and his wife Laura about their experiences raising their autistic son. I watched the whole episode and while there were a lot of good points made, there was also some misinformation, statements that were poorly explained and could be misinterpreted, and a couple of pretty harmful ideas put across which I’m gonna go into below.

Disclaimer one: I’m gonna be saying a lot of stuff that I’m not going to be posting sources for. This is because everything I’m saying comes from my experiences as an autistic person, my experiences working as a support worker for adults with autism where I am currently a key worker for two autistic individuals, my work related training on autism, mental health, and diet & nutrition, and my knowledge from my psychology degree in which I also spent a lot of time studying biology and physiology. This is all just stuff that I know, and at some point I might try to add some sources but I’m writing this fresh off watching and making notes on this video so my energy is already running a little low and I’d rather focus on getting my points across instead of having to take time to source every piece of information.

Disclaimer two: The purpose of this post isn’t to attack or defend any of the people involved in the podcast. This is also in no way a criticism of Tom and Laura’s parenting. This is purely a criticism of the discussion that took place on the podcast, not on any of the choices they’ve made for their son.

Disclaimer three: I’m going to be using the phrase “challenging behaviour” a lot while I’m explaining things as this is the term used in most modern research and is what we use at work. This basically describes any behaviour that causes harm to the individual or to other people around them, or behaviour that is detrimental to the individual’s wellbeing.

So the main thing I want to go into with this is the misinformation and misinterpretation of information that was central to the discussion in this podcast, and that was around the connection between diet and autism. Most of the things Tom and Laura said about the effects of diet weren’t incorrect, but it wasn’t explained accurately and missed out on some key points so let’s go:

In terms of whether diet can “cause” autism: no it can’t. There’s absolutely no evidence to suggest it does. It also can’t “worsen” autism because autism isn’t something that can get “worse” or “better”. A person with autism can develop and learn new skills and they can also regress (and diet can influence this, which I’ll go into further on), but an autistic person at a lower stage of development does not have “worse” autism than a person at a higher stage of development.

Poor diet can have an impact on autistic people in the same way as with neurotypical people. If we eat junk, we tend to feel like junk as a result, and when we feel like junk it can be harder to concentrate and carry out our usual day to day tasks. However, autistic people are also significantly more likely to suffer from digestive problems and food intolerances, and so for a lot of autistic people (or parents of autistic children) diet may be something that requires close attention. So saying that an autistic individual’s challenging behaviour could be a result of their diet isn’t necessarily untrue, but it does massively oversimplify the issue. The challenging behaviour is more likely a response to pain or discomfort, (as well as frustration if they are unable to communicate this), which is caused by a diet unsuitable for this specific individual, which is caused by an intolerance or digestive problem, which they were at greater risk of developing due to their autism. It’s worth mentioning that medical professionals still don’t know why this comorbidity exists.

So, referring back to Tom and Laura’s experience with their son, they were explaining that their son’s challenging behaviour spiked while he was on a high-sugar diet. Laura also added that he had been suffering from increasingly frequent infections in his ears and throat while eating these foods, which makes sense because high blood sugar levels can weaken the immune system and make us more susceptible to infections. They then explained that these infections stopped following a tonsillectomy and a change to a sugar-free diet, which then also lead to a complete reduction in their son’s challenging behaviours. Again, implying that the reduction in behaviours is a result of cutting out the sugar is oversimplifying. It’s most likely that their son’s challenging behaviours were a response to the pain the infections were causing, which may or may not have been linked to his sugar intake. Either way, autistic people are all individuals and so while a reduction in sugar intake has benefited their son, by no means does that mean that all autistic people should be following a low-sugar diet or that this would be beneficial for them.

This isn’t entirely on topic but there are two other things I want to address in terms of what Tom and Laura said while talking about their son, the first being when talking about their initial approach to their children's’ diet before they were aware that their son was autistic. Laura essentially said that she wanted their children to be able to try different foods and that the focus would be on education about health and diet rather than cutting “unhealthy” foods out of their diets completely, which I thought was a great way to approach things. However she then added that, had they known about their son’s autism at the time, they may have approached things differently, which I was confused about. I think (and hope) she was just trying to say that if they had known upfront that sugar particularly seemed to be detrimental to their son, they would have reduced that straight away rather than having to use a process of trial and error which makes sense, but just the way it was phrased set off alarm bells because it sounded like she was implying that they would have controlled his diet more strictly if they had known he was autistic. Hopefully this isn’t the case because autistic people don’t need to have their choices limited if there is no detriment to their health or wellbeing.

Another thing I was confused about, and I’m not sure if this was supposed to be more of a weird analogy rather than factual information, was when Tom started talking about “sensory glands” when talking about their son’s hypersensitivity to sounds. I think his exact words were something along the line of saying that the high sugar levels were causing his “sensory glands” to “swell” which was heightening his sensitivity. And like... unless I missed something there is no such thing as a sensory gland and they certainly don’t swell up when we’re over stimulated or when we have a lot of sugar. Sugar triggers high dopamine responses in our brains which then leads to cravings and can cause spikes and crashes in mood, and it can also cause inflammation, all of which can cause discomfort and in turn could lead to an increase in sensitivity, but as far as I know sugar doesn’t have a direct effect on our senses.

Now on to the elephant in the room and the two big, glaring no-no's in this podcast, both of which were said by Tom (these are not direct quotes because I didn’t get a chance to jot them down in time so I’m paraphrasing slightly):

“we cannot ignore the correlation between rising autism rates and the increase in fast food consumption” (spoiler alert: yes we can)

“I really want to get to the cause of autism and see if there’s something that can be done to prevent it”

So, first of all, autism isn’t something that needs to be prevented. Autistic people are not a detriment to society. We don’t have an illness, we just experience the world differently and, in some cases, require additional support to live our lives as fully as possible. Obviously it can’t be ruled out that fast food, or anything else, has a part to play in rising rates, but there is absolutely no evidence to suggest that it does and correlation absolutely does not equal causation. Gay representation in the media has also been steadily rising with rates of autism diagnosis. Does this mean that seeing gay people on TV makes people autistic? No. As Laura briefly mentioned, it is far more likely that the rising rates are actually due to an increase in understanding about autism and the accessibility of diagnosis, especially when you consider how many people are still slipping under the radar even with all the knowledge we have today.

I appreciate that most of this podcast is just a conversation between friends about various topics, but when the goal of this podcast is to “raise awareness”, and with the shared platform the people involved have, casual statements like these are incredibly dangerous. With the general implication that if everyone lived a healthy, clean, and organic lifestyle, we could reduce the number of autistic people in our society, this not only puts the “blame” on parents of autistic people, and on the individuals themselves, but is also dipping into eugenics territory. And while I don’t think the intentions behind either statement were malicious, they were incredibly ignorant, and the fact that they went completely unchallenged was concerning and made me pretty uncomfortable.

There were still a lot of positives in the podcast. I’m really glad Laura was also involved because she definitely came across as being the most educated on the subject of the four of them and did make a point of bringing up issues with diagnosis (particularly among girls with autism), her and Tom’s privilege in terms of being able to work with doctor’s to find out as much as possible about their son’s dietary needs and to then provide him with a tailored diet, and also addressing the issues with “high functioning vs low functioning” when Rob asked about the “severity” of their son’s autism. However there was still an undeniable amount of inaccurate or poorly presented information, as well as some things that were just plain incorrect and offensive. I appreciate that a lot of this was coming from personal experience rather than being generalised information, but I think this could have been communicated a lot more clearly and effectively considering the intention was to spread awareness, and the episode would have massively benefitted from the input of an autistic adult. Rob specifically had a lot of questions about autism in general and I think they would have been much better answered by somebody with autism, rather than a parent giving an outside perspective of their child’s experiences. It’s always a little uncomfortable to watch four neurotypical people discuss autism, regardless of how positive their intentions are, and I don’t think it would have been a great challenge for them to find an autistic person who would have been willing to talk about the topic with them.

#YES it took me two hours to write this NO I won't elaborate #tom hopper #robert sheehan #the earth locker

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beetlegoose01 · 3 years

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pride is not the word (harry and albus)

AN: A request from Twitter by my good friend @ scorbus who requested for hurt/comfort father-son duo Harry and Albus. Yeah I can do platonic stuff too guys! You can request (almost anything) on my Twitter, Tumblr (here) or AO3 account. :D I’m pepperimps01 on all of them. I’m also currently working on a full length Scorbus story which I’m super excited to share...eventually.

Without further ramblings, here you go <3

Characters: Harry Potter, Albus Potter

Summary: Harry comforts his son from a nightmare.

Word Count: 774

~~~~~

There were quite a few things Harry considered he got right as a father. He was far from perfect, with no father to base upon, but he tried his best. Lily and James were easy to understand, easy to please...but Albus was harder.

Though it didn't always start that way. As an infant, Albus was quieter than his elder brother, but when he wailed as loud as his lungs could, it was obvious he was hungry or sad. Those responses, Harry understood quite well. When he was a small child, Harry was there for hugs or plasters to cover skimmed knees or ice creams on hot summer days. Albus looked at him with adoring eyes for guidance. Now, they hardly looked at each other.

Certain things could not be solved with reassuring words or hugs. And that's what made Harry so troubled. The little boy who had a fear of the dark, who insisted he still needed cuddles every morning, who always closed his closet door to prevent monsters; was gone for now. But Harry vowed to be there for him no matter what.

After the events of a few months ago, Harry had become more apprehensive. Sleepless nights were frequent as he checked each of his children's rooms to make sure they were comfortable and safe. James was found in his room, the door wide open as he snored loudly on the comforter. Blankets were scattered on the floor, as if the auburn haired teenager was having an intense duel in his sleep- and the duvet were winning.

Passing his room to check on Lily, the girl was asleep as well, but this time with her glasses still on her face. Chuckling to himself, he removed them and placed them on her bedside table without waking her. He left the room pleased with himself. But that did not last long, as his heart dropped, listening.

Silent, muffled sobs were heard in the next room. Harry paused. He inched towards the room- Albus' room, hand hovering over the door knob.

He must have heard the shuffling from outside door, before Harry twisted the knob, a tiny, pitiful voice uttered. "Hello?" It sounded broken, cracking under layers of tears. His heart broke.

"Can I come in?" Harry whispered, voice hushed but desperate.

Please don't shut me out. I need to know you're okay.

"....yeah."

The door creaked open slowly, immediately turning to the shivering lump on Albus' bed. He sat up, blinking owlishly in the moonlight. Tears streaked his cheeks and his eyes were red and puffy. He looked younger, vulnerable, his dark hair tousled about in distress.

No words needed to be said. Harry sat beside his son, pain in his eyes. "What are you doing up?"

"I was...well...I was..." Albus played with a strand of string on his pajamas. "I had a nightmare." He didn't dare look at Harry. "I know it's babyish." He added quickly, embarassed. "I'm sorry."

"It's not babyish." Harry assured him, careful not to move too close. "Albus, it isn't. Plenty of people have nightmares. And with the trauma you dealt with, it is no surprise that you..."

Albus trembled, biting his lip. "It was about her."

Harry nodded. "You didn't deserve to go through that."

Albus moved closer to Harry, hugging him as tight as he could. Sobs wracked against his body as he wept. Harry wrapped his own arms protectively over his youngest son.

"It...it was terrible." He whimpered. "But it was months ago- I shouldn't be having nightmares like a baby."

"I have nightmares too." Harry nudged him, smiling softly.

"You do?"

"All the time actually. Your mum is used to it by now." He continued, meeting his eyes. It was like looking into a smaller, freckled cheek mirror. "Albus Severus, having night terrors- reacting to such a horrible experience doesn't make you a baby. It makes you stronger, empathetic. Your heart was taken advantage of by an evil witch. Please don't ever apologize for showing grief. It's all really part of being human."

"It just feels so..." Albus trailed off, feeling an unexplained pressure to understand his feelings. "I don't know."

"Exhausting?"

"Kind of."

Harry seemed to read his mind. "I know. But it will get easier to understand. We'll help you, Al. Me, your mum, even Jamie and Lily." He paused. "And Scorpius. We're here for you." Kissing his temple, he looked back at his son's doe eyed expression. "I love you."

Hugging him, Albus uttered one single phrase that healed Harry's worries.

"I love you too, dad."

Harry wasn't a perfect father. But Albus was his perfect son.

#char writing requests #harry james potter #harry potter #angst #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #albus potter #albus severus potter #lily luna potter #james sirius potter #writing requests #platonic #father son comfort #post cursed child

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fyeah-bangtan7 · 3 years

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Jimin: “I’m the kind of person who likes to be loved”

#bangtan #jimin #m:weverse magazine #p:website #201123

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rjhpandapaws · 3 years

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Secure the Stage

Ch 2: A Man of Many Masks

"Alright, that's a wrap." Silas called as the scene finished, he was smiling. The play was coming along well, "You guys did great today. Go home and relax."

The group that was practicing today packed up their scripts and dispersed. Silas walked out with them, seeing them off and then lighting a cigarette with a content sigh. As he took the first deep inhale he felt his muscles relax and some of the lingering tension fall away. He let it out with the plume of grey smoke that curled away from his lips on the exhale. Silas took his time smoking and headed back inside once he was done. Like usual he used the back entrance to get to the stage.

Silas loved acting, it allowed him to be someone who was more than just Connor's mirror image. The faces he wore, the people he became, they mattered, brought to life by someone who took pride in his craft both on and off the stage. Silas was always acting, bending himself into whatever those around him needed him to be. Silas protected himself behind a labyrinth of masks. Any company he kept was held at arm's length if not farther. He didn't do relationships, everything was a no strings attached kind of deal. He didn't want anyone getting too close. The person Silas was once the curtains fell was only for those closest to him to know. And that group was made up of Markus, Connor, and Richard. His family and no one else.

He finished putting the chairs away and moved on to taking apart the floor props and set pieces so they could be put away. He started to sing, going through the set list for the play. He hadn't realized he had gained an audience until he had finished one of the more depressing numbers and heard a gasp. It was Saturday and the theater was technically closed so no one should have been around. He straightened up and turned toward the right side stage wing where the sound had come from.

His one man audience turned out to be a member of the security staff. He had near black hair and dark caramel eyes, there seemed to be a perpetual furrow to his brow that was reminisce of concern. He was taller than Silas by about three inches, if he were to hazard a guess. The security guard was attractive and filled out his uniform quite well. Silas frowned at the thought, he needed to finish cleaning up so it would be done right, not day dreaming of sneaking off with a stranger to blow off steam. He sighed and approached his unwanted audience.

"You just planning to stare or are you going to help me," he looked down for the stranger's name, figuring it was a bit rude to start in on someone with out knowing their name, "Allen."

"Uh," Allen glanced around seeming a little unsure of himself. Which was probably Silas's fault for snapping at him, he decided he would be nicer. Be whatever Allen needed him to be, like he did with everyone else, "I guess I can help. What do you need me to do?"

"Great. We're breaking down sets." Silas smiled over his shoulder at Allen as he moved to get back to work, picking up from where he had been interrupted.

He heard Allen follow behind him. He came to work beside Silas as they took apart the city scape back drop, "Do you have a name?"

Silas couldn't help his grin at the stupid way the question was phrased, "I do." He teased, easily falling into the role of someone easy going and fun. Easy in part because he meant it, "Would you like to know it."

Allen rolled his eyes before he returned to work, "Yes."

"Silas." He said, finally relenting in his teasing.

They made small talk sometimes as they worked on taking apart the sets. Other times Allen would ask him to do impressions. His requests getting more outlandish ad they worked. Though he was delighted every time Silas pulled them off. It was the most fun Silas had ever had while cleaning the stage. Eventually, when the novelty wore off, they went back to talking.

"So why do all of this?" Allen eventually asked, gesturing to the left over set pieces that they had to break down, "Breaking down the sets and all the cleaning? Isn't that what the theater staff is for?"

"The theater staff are here to make the experience of the theater better." He said as he walked to the left stage wing to grab the broom and start sweeping trying to keep the annoyance from his voice. Allen didn't know any better, "Not to clean up after the actors."

"Okay, but like, why you specifically." He prodded, "No one stayed behind to help you."

"They never do." Silas said as he finished sweeping and headed back to the left stage wing to grab the dry mop, "Most of the group have lives outside of the theater. This is my time to unwind and I enjoy it."

"Sorry for intruding then." Allen said, straightening up from where he had been leaning against the wall and gestured behind him as he spoke, "I can leave if you want."

"You're not intruding, its fine." He smiled and then changed the subject because his curiosity was starting to kill him, "You know about me, so how about you tell me a little about you. What's with the security get up?"

Allen rubbed the back of his neck and let out a nervous chuckle, "I'm in school for criminology. This is just to pay the bills."

"Ah," So he probably wanted to be a cop like Richard did, he wondered if Allen would ever cross paths with his brother, "Going to the police academy when you graduate then?"

"That's the plan." Allen said with a slight smile, "I'd like to make SWAT at some point."

Silas's eyebrows took a hike toward his hairline, he propped himself up on the mop handle staring at Allen in shock, "That desperate to get shot? Here I thought you were working security to flex your strength. Use your muscle to knock some heads together."

His eyes roamed over Allen without his permission, he briefly wondered what it would be like to be pinned down by him. A solid body like that had to feel good. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the timbre of Allen's voice.

"I want to help people. Save them if I am able." The genuine conviction in Allen's voice shook Solas down to his bones, "There are enough people trying to prevent the bad from happening, but not enough ready for when it inevitably does. I want to change that."

Silas couldn't prevent his smile even if he had been bribed with his favorite brand of cigarettes, "That's very noble of you. I like it."

"Thanks." Allen paused for a moment, not used to Silas's brand of complimenting, "I think?"

Silas laughed and started mopping again, "It was a compliment."

"So what about you?" Allen asked as Silas put the mop away, "Why theater?"

"That's easy." He walked to the edge of the stage and sat down, "Up here I get to put the world away and become anyone I want to be. In the process I get to help people find there escape as well. Pull people into a story and we all get to forget about all the bad shit going on in the world for a few hours. A performing arts degree seemed like the best way to make sure that I get to keep doing that."

Silas was surprised that he spit all of that out. Normally he just gave a simple answer. He didn't really understand why or how Allen pulled the answer out of him so easily. His phone rang scaring the life out of him. He looked down to see Markus's name. It was time to go apparently, it didn't feel like three hours had passed. He answered so Markus wouldn't worry, listening as the nurse told him where he was parked. When it was done he hung up.

"That would be my ride. See you around Allen." He hopped off the stage and headed for the lobby.

"Yeah. See you around Silas." The security guard called after him.

Silas lit another cigarette on his way out smoking it on the way to Markus's car. When he finished he stuck the butt back in the box to throw away when he got home since there wasn't a trash bin near by.

"So how was practice?" Markus asked when Silas got in the car.

"Good." Silas said with a smile, "We're about a week ahead of schedule."

"That's great." Markus turned on the radio as they pulled out of the parking lot back toward Silas's apartment.

When they got to the complex Silas thanked Markus and headed up to his unit. Allen made his way back into his thoughts. More specifically Silas's worries, he didn't normally open up that easily, but Allen had asked about the theater and Silas hadn't been able to stop himself. It was uncomfortable and the sensible solution would be to keep his distance. But he was so tempted to give in, and he knew if he did he wouldn't come out of it in one piece. Like all tempting things, Allen was dangerous. He was attractive, sweet, and strong. Silas was interested, and that was a problem. Interest lead to feelings, and feelings lead to love, and Silas didn't do love.

"If you're not careful Silas, you're gonna fuck around and fall in love." He mused aloud.

And what a thing that would be. Breaking his own set of rules for someone like Allen. Someone who looked like safety incarnate. This would only end badly. He was already in this deep so what did he have to lose. If he got burned he would have known from the start.

#Secure the Stage #StS #rk800 60 #dbh sixty #dbh captain allen #captain allen #allen60 #bonkable offense?

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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

Text

The Married Life

Commission for @useeer !!! Tysm once again for adding more Bloodhound to my ever growing pile, we truly bein sexy out here.

Summary: Bloodhound and you are married, and yet, sometimes they figure out new things about you they weren't expecting. Not that this is a bad thing, of course, just a new kink for the big bad wolf to ruin you with. OR. In which your spouse finds out you're into desperation play by holding your pee and wants to abuse that when you two are on a walk in the woods and you suddenly gotta go.

Minors and ageless blogs DNI or you will be blocked. AGE IN YOUR BIO!

Reblogs > Likes.

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Bloodhound/Reader (Trans male)

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reader is a trans male whose parts are referred to as cock/dick/hole, body mods are mentioned like tongue piercings, DESPERATION PLAY/WATER//SPORTS, u and Bloodhound are married and in love, humiliation play

Words: 5.4k

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Marriage was a funny thing.

When you had known each other for a long time, had loved each other for a long time, you wonder if there is anything new about your partner you will discover. For Bloodhound, they had learned they could notice and pick out every little thing you ever did with intense focus. Noting things down to the way you preferred to eat your food or how to watch for your hands to prevent you from picking or gnawing at them when your anxiety struck.

They thought they had mostly figured you out, and yet you surprised them day to day with new things arising. Whether if it was because you picked up on some of their own hobbies or if you simply said a new phrase as if you’d said it all along.

Yet, what had been the most interesting thing to note was a curiosity not even Bloodhound could figure out right away. Something that was subtle and almost slipped under their analytical gaze.

It had all started in the woods one day. Chasing you was part of the thrill of your little hunts. Pinning you down was the icing on the cake of it all. But then something curious had happened.

~Rest under the cut~

When they had been fucking you that night, you had whimpered out as if embarrassed about having to relieve yourself. Any other time Bloodhound would have heeded you and stopped entirely, never wishing to make you uncomfortable, but when they had pressed a little more, all you did was squirm even at their questioning. No safe word, not even when they asked for your color. Bloodhound merely thought they’d play into your love of humiliation- not minding in the end if you pissed on the forest ground while they plowed you, or even on themself. Not as if it was something to be ashamed of.

They thought it had been your love of the humiliation that drove you to be so... into it. And yet, now, they wonder if it had not only just been the humiliation aspect of that night.

Bloodhound watches as you start to withhold yourself if you must relieve yourself in day-to-day life. You sit on the couch despite clearly needing to go to the restroom, cuddled up against their side as they read a book. You squirm and adjust, sometimes your breath will hitch but they could pass that off as you being stubborn of all things. But then they start to notice when your hand presses subtly to your crotch or lower abdomen. You do it so subtly and quietly that even they wouldn’t notice if they weren’t focusing on you rather than their book.

Your breaths are so quiet in the way they hitch, your subtle motions of nuzzling into their shoulder or chest are nothing new, but they find it’s almost as if you’re trying to ground yourself. And when you finally get up with a little squirm and a whine under your breath, they ponder to themself quietly.

How long have they noticed you doing these things and merely thought nothing of it? It is not as if they would judge you, let alone make fun of you for something like a kink. You were very generous in indulging in their own, even if they were sure you were just waiting for someone to offer to do more...intense things with you. Not like Bloodhound minded, they certainly enjoyed everything you let them do to you. And on the occasion, what they’d let you do to them .

They wonder when you leave to the restroom if that moment in the woods wasn’t just a chance encounter to humiliate you. But if all this time you had this little kink of yours and you were too embarrassed to just tell them. And somehow, someway, they managed to nail it on the head in that moment without even their own knowledge.

Healthy communication was important to them as it was for you, but perhaps this was too embarrassing of a topic? Bloodhound could admit their own embarrassment in admitting they had a breeding kink, but that topic had come up on accident after mentioning their own desire to have a family of their own later in life. There had never been an opportunity for you to openly discuss this kink since no leading conversation had occurred to get you there.

But how to start a conversation to make you feel comfortable discussing it?

Regardless, Bloodhound wanted you happy. They weren’t at all opposed to doing things that involved such a kink. But pressing you wouldn’t bode well, they knew that. You’d become shy or possibly shut down and be unable to speak. It’s best to wait for the opportunity to arise, and for now to simply monitor what things you may do during the day they hadn’t noticed that may pertain to this...topic.

When you’d returned to them on the couch, they greeted you with open arms for you to rest your head against their chest. “There is my beautiful husband,” They crooned at the sight of you, relishing in the redness taking across your cheeks as they drag you into a soft, adoring kiss before pecking your forehead.

From there, after that thought had taken root, they monitor you more closely, little to your knowledge.

For you, Bloodhound being observant wasn’t anything new. Hell, they knew your favorite color by the third date without you even saying anything. It started when you made a joke to them after they asked if they could kiss you, telling them teasingly they didn’t even know your favorite color, and when they confidentially stated it, you’d wondered if you actually did say anything. Turns out they knew it just from your outfits, it was a color you consistently had on you. And one you pointed out when you liked things. Go figure.

Their observations were always sweet and accurate. Though, sometimes you worried if you weren’t paying enough attention to them in turn.

What you were hoping for is that your spouse wouldn’t look too far into you after that night in the woods. Or...maybe in some way, you wanted them to look into it so you didn’t have to say it aloud. It was an embarrassing kink for you, hard to even think about let alone trying to figure out how to tell Bloodhound.

But, you’ll admit, you’d gotten off by yourself in the shower more than a few times imagining just how they’d fucked you raw like that. Remembering just how they’d sounded when they crooned out ‘My sweet boy, is that all?’ all condescendingly when you’d whined about needing to pee mid-sex. They hadn’t even questioned you, just asking for your color on the situation.

They wouldn’t mind indulging you, you knew this! You knew this and yet- it still made your face burn. Even when you came from your own fingers and quaking in the shower as you remembered them slamming into you, filthy talking you by your ear and daring you to release. Daring you to make a mess of yourself-

It felt too embarrassing to just...just bring up!

Bloodhound, throughout your entire relationship and through marriage, had always been one to pick up on your subtleties. So, you tried to play into that. You started joking more often about things like that, like when you drank too much water you’d laugh and say something like, “Man, really hope I don’t have to pee in the middle of our walk again, huh?” Only to be disappointed when Bloodhound would kindly state they could wait, or you could merely relieve yourself on your walk.

Or other things like holding yourself for longer, nearly going cross-eyed when you did it. Squirming in your seat next to them and praying they’d tease you about it so you had an excuse to whine for them to do something about it. But they either weren’t paying attention, or ignoring you out of politeness. Even when you would softly whine and give up as you went to the restroom.

Bloodhound was all about communication and being mindful not to overstep boundaries. You knew what you had to do, you just had to talk about it, communicate to them and see if they were interested as well.

But, fuck, was it so hard!

It’s a conversation for another time, another day you try to tell yourself. For the next few weeks after that event in the woods, you try to bring yourself to talk to them about it, but can’t bring it out. Praying and praying another chance encounter would happen, that Bloodhound would bring up their curious nature and question you about it. Yet, you can’t help but feel they did know, but were just...waiting for you to say something.

You liked being their prey, you always did, but sometimes their patient hunter nature was such a pain in the ass.

It was a pain in the ass when you started dating and had no idea how to tell them you wanted them to fuck you raw and they’d been oh so patient for you. Waiting and never going further even if you saw they wanted to, too. And now it was a pain in the ass all because your mouth wouldn’t open just to say ‘Hey, babe, so, funny story. Remember that day in the woods and you told me to basically piss myself mid-sex? Yeah, I was into that. But that part especially. But- wait no, the rest of it was really good too, but I mean, specifically that part was GREAT- not that sex with you isn’t great but--’.

Okay maybe not worded exactly like that. But that was the EXACT reason you couldn’t get it out in the first place! Your embarrassment and lack of ability to word it in a serious fashion made you tongue twisted and. ..and. ..and-

“Your thoughts are loud, my love,” Bloodhound’s voice snatches you from your thoughts where they can be seen in the kitchen packing away things into a bag over their shoulder. You two were planning to go to the nearby waterfall, the warm summer air allowing you two to swim and bathe in its waters in an intimate fashion in the nights. But now, their curious eyes flicker to you, their head cocked. “You may speak freely. Is there something on your mind?”

“No-- well, yes, but-” You pause there when you note Bloodhound’s concern, their eyebrows knitting and approaching you when your hands start to fuss with the other. They take your hands within theirs gently, their cold hands intertwining with yours. They take your left hand, kissing over the simple golden band with the sun etched into it- one that matched theirs with a crescent moon-, making your face burn but your nerves less on fire with anxiety than they were. “But...I’m just not sure how to talk about it? It isn’t even important, just something on my mind.”

“Anything you have to say is important to me.” Bloodhound murmurs, kissing up your knuckle, up the back of your hand, before standing on their tiptoes just as you bow your head to press a warm kiss to your forehead with their full lips. “If it is not upsetting you or something dire in your eyes, I shall let it go so we can enjoy our time together tonight. Shall we talk later?”

“Yes,” You breathe out in relief, your cheeks warming red as their cold hands gently cup them. It’s the look they give you, quiet and full of love. Where you can make out their good eye, golden and bright flickering across your face and that small, dimpled smile on their face. Gods help you, you loved them so much. “Yeah, of course, Hound. Now, quit bein’ sappy, don’t we have a walk to do?”

A sly grin etches across their face when you say the word ‘sappy’. Their eyes flickering down to your lips when your tongue flicks across them to show the stud on your tongue. Their eyes flash hungry briefly and heat rolls down your spine in a pleasant wave. “Sappy? Beloved, we both know that is not nearly as ‘sappy’ as I may be. Shall I remind you?”

Flickers of memories of poems written to you in beautiful ink while they’re away at the games, sealed with beautiful wax with flowery words of them missing you and how whichever raven went with them this time around missed you as well. Poems you had saved in a box- needing a new box soon with how full it was now. Of how they would hold you in bed, stroking along your cheek and murmur of your beauty. Of how soft they got when you could get out flowery words in turn, their cheeks warming and trying to hide in their red curls, only to call you their beautiful husband, their sweet boy-

Your face burns to your ears and you flash an embarrassed smile that makes Bloodhound smile victoriously in turn when you begin to stutter and squeak out, “N-no! No, no, I remember quite well, thank you!”

“Are you sure? We have time-”

“Hound!”

Their laugh is like music to your ears, their smile even more so when they flash their double canines before leaning in to peck a kiss on the corner of your mouth adoringly. There’s a quick double check to make sure you’re ready to begin the hour long walk to the waterfall from your little cottage in the woods.

Your spouse was dressed for the warm night out casually, beautiful as always. A tight pair of black camouflage yoga capris nearly made you want to get on your knees and thank anyone who would listen to you about Bloodhound’s perfect ass and hips. A black sports bra with the Apex symbol in red over their right breast and their fur collared bomber jacket. Their glasses were unnecessary in the dark of the night, the moon was close to Talos and provided plenty enough light, but solar powered lights also led along the trail. Nothing too bright to hurt them.

You were dressed in your normal gray hoodie and casual black joggers, perhaps not the smartest option for a warm night out, let alone such a long walk, but it made you most comfortable. Besides, if any touching was to be had, Bloodhound’s body was naturally freezing and would balance out any overheating business you might get.

The walk is always comforting. The soft chitter and chirping of the insects around and the sound of the winds rustling the trees was always a dream. Bloodhound hooks their pinkie with yours a few minutes in, and when you transfer to grab their hand and kiss the back of it, you smile at the way you catch them turn their head in a flustered manner.

It never felt like a long hour when walking with them. It felt peaceful and invigorating. Small conversations brought up like when you bring up their last game of the season of them being champion, how they clearly preen with pride and kiss the back of your hand in turn and murmur that their victory was a gift for you. It’s the playful little moments of bumping hips and how you’d seen Bloodhound go from being alone and preferring their own company to now wanting you close. The way they smile freely with you, twirling you under the moonlight to dip you and make you laugh as you’re dipped low enough to nearly hit the ground.

Halfway through the walk, you start to feel that pressure building again and curse yourself for drinking a whole bottle of water before your walk. You try to ignore it, just continue walking. But another ten minutes in and you’re squirming, bouncing from foot to foot. Trying to squeeze your thighs together until you’ve clearly slowed your pace. Bloodhound seems to notice only when your hands slip, looking back at you curiously where you flash a nervous smile.

Their eyes flash in that way that screams predatory, which doesn’t help the need to clench your thighs together. Especially when they begin stalking closer, their head cocked and curls falling over their shoulder. “You seem tense. Are you alright?” Their tone is teasing, almost mocking you as they step closer and closer. It makes you naturally back up, taking a step back each time they come forward. “Is something the matter, my love?” Bloodhound presses, their full lips quirking briefly at one side in the flash of a smirk and your cheeks burn all the way to your ears.

Asshole spouse you had. Stupid, sexy brat.

Your face is hot, your legs nearly shaking as you take your next step back. “I-I-uh—I need to- to uh- take a quick break to pee--” You practically squeak it all out, feeling heat race down your body when your back hits the base of a large tree. Bloodhound is quick, chest to chest with you and their eyes screaming hungry and curious.

What was going on in their mind? What were they thinking? Had they...had they been observing you?!

You whimper out when their thigh comes between your shaking thighs, forcefully parting them despite you trying so hard to keep them closed to help the pressure. Your eyes roll back into your head when you feel their hand brushing down your side, resting on your lower abdomen but not pressing. Just a threat. Your heart is racing, your mind racing as embarrassment and arousal shoots through you all at once.

“Then go, beloved. What is stopping you?” They croon in your ear, their other arm resting by your head and keeping you locked in place. Their breath fans across your cheek where you’ve turned your head to not make eye contact, a sob wracking your frame when they lift their powerful thigh to press between your legs and putting pressure against you.

The sob makes them pause, clearly unsure of themself now, but before they can even open their mouth to question you, you’re quick on them already. “Green. Green, green, fuck, am I so green right now, Hound, baby , God-”

“Thank you.” They murmur quietly by your ear, kissing the lobe softly and making you feel praised. It’s just a moment of pause to get themself back into it before they’re kissing down your neck, the lightest amount of pressure starting to be put on your lower abdomen until your eyes are watering and you're squirming to try and get away. A smirk is felt on your neck, their teeth grazing an old scar that was left behind their teeth from before. A mark.

Theirs.

“N-no—no, no, no, baby, please, please-” You begin to sob out, rocking desperately against their thigh as tears fill your gaze. Your hands cling to the sides of their jacket, shaking like a leaf when their thigh presses up harder, making it easier to grind your cock against and using pleasure to distract you form the pressure. If you—if you pissed like this, it’d be all over their leg. It’d be all over them-

Humiliation and embarrassment crack through you like lightning. You sniffle and shake as you plead and beg for them when their hand presses with just enough pressure to feel yourself tightening. “PLEASE! No, no, Hound, please, j-just let me g o PEE SOMEWHERE ELSE!” It comes out rushed, in a high-pitched squeaking cry. But all you hear is them hum as if you’re discussing the weather, licking a line up the column of your neck with their split, pierced tongue. “I-I’ll do anything! Anything, baby, please, please, please-”

“Anything?” Bloodhound croons back at you, easing the light pressure on your lower abdomen and leaving you instead to frantically hump across their thigh. You’re pretty sure you’re drooling, your vision blurry as you look over their shoulder and up at the moon. You felt watched.

What a voyeur the Allfather could be when their Champion was playing.

“Little one, you know better than to say that. What shall become of you if I do anything I wish?” They speak in a condescending tone, leaning back with their hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at them through your desperate humping. Your lips are parted, eyes half lidded as your hips desperately hump across their thigh, using the pressure on your cock as an excuse to forget about the pressure.

“Anything, anything, anything, just- please, please, don’t m-make me here-” You hiccup out, your lower lip quivering. You can make out how Bloodhound’s eyes fall to your lips, never having felt more helpless and like prey then when you are under their gaze. Just a toy for them to use and play with.

You had a feeling they liked you like that the most anyway.

“On your knees, bráðinni minni.” Bloodhound murmurs, pulling their leg from between your thighs and watching as you drop near instantly onto your knees. Your lips quiver, slamming your thighs together and trying to rock against your own thighs to relieve that pressure, or at least distract yourself. Your eyes are teary as you look up at them, your lips parted and undoubtedly drooling on yourself.

You make out Bloodhound’s thumbs hitching in their stretchy pants, pulling them down to mid-thigh and exposing them. Dark red curls already wet at their lower lips, how their fat clit peeks heavily from them and making your mouth water at the sight. Your own cock twitches helplessly, even more so when their fingers curl into your hair and pull you forward.

One of your hands rests between your thighs, trying to use your arm as a place to put pressure and distract yourself. Your other hand rests on Bloodhound’s outer thigh, already eager to feel your nose press to their curls. They smell heavenly, tasting even better on your tongue when you can slip your tongue past their lower lips. Lapping at them in firm swipes of your tongue like they liked, all the way to the underside of their clit to make it stand to attention.

Bloodhound always made the prettiest sounds too. Their soft, huffing snarls with each breath and the way their thighs tremble. Sensitive. You whine against them when they shove your face closer, fingers knitting into your hair to pull you upwards until you take the hint and seal your lips around their clit.

Your face is flushed, heat all throughout your body as you try to hump against your arm and squirm to try and refocus the pressure back and forth. Your distraction lays heavily in Bloodhound’s grasp and how they hold your head still, their hips humping against your face and fucking your mouth. You can feel their slick drooling down your chin, smearing across your nose with every greedy and desperate hump of their hips.

You look up at them and see a god. How their red curls twist wildly around their head, their eyes shut and long lashes casting shadows over their cheekbones. Their eyebrows knitted in pleasure and full lips parted to croon at you in their native tongue. Some of it you can make out, things like, “So good, my love, you are so good at this- ” “That is a good boy, take it.” “Yes, yes, yes -”

Your tongue slides out so you can slide it through their slick folds with every hump against you. You can taste them so heavily, making sure to flick your tongue just right so the metal ball on your tongue swipes across the underside of their clit each time their hips come forward.

“Fuck-” They swear under their breath, harsh and exhaled with pleasure. You swear if hearts could fill your eyes they would be lit up, feeling your own cock jerk and a whine fall from your lips at even the implication that they were the one desperate for you. You try to tell them without words how beautiful they are by sliding your hand up their thigh, catching their free hand over their hip to lace your fingers.

When Bloodhound cums , they squeeze your hand and the hand in your hair holds you firmly in place. Their entire body trembles, their hips only lightly humping against your eager mouth as you lick up what you can. Feeling each jerk and twitch of their clit against your lips, each contraction felt with your tongue and the excess wetness spilling out of them.

When they release you, you sit back on your knees, dizzy and panting with your eyes bleary and slick clinging to your lips and chin. A cold hand cups your cheek, their thumb swiping off your chin and you immediately suckle off the digit offered to you. Licking greedily for more of their taste, not even noticing how your own thighs tremble and clamp harshly down on your arm.

“Such an eager little thing you are. Do you like how I taste?” Bloodhound’s voice is condescending, digging into you as their hand leaves your face. You try to nod, your lips quivering as you look up at them and wishing so badly they’d just fuck your face again. But they keep looking at you, cocking their head lightly and reminding you of their pup-like tendencies briefly. But then you realize they want to hear it out loud.

“I-I--- yes, yes, you taste so- so good,” You try to whimper out, your cheeks burning red as humiliation creeps down your spine. They had to know what they were doing, keeping you on your knees and watching you squirm. You sniffle, “Hound, baby , please, please, I-I can’t hold it anymore, please, wasn’t I good?” You try for the low blow, your lips pouting, tears filling your eyes as if you could win their sympathy.

“Oh? Was that not reward enough? I thought you liked my taste.” Bloodhound croons, a smirk playing on their lips as they tug their pants back up just as you let out a sob. But they don’t leave you alone for long, soon moving to lean against the tree as they sit down. They grab you, maneuvering you into their lap until you’re lain across it on all fours. Your abdomen has zero pressure on it, safely resting in the open space of their parted thighs. A blessing, you assume.

You kick off your shoes just in time, your legs quivering to part enough to let Bloodhound strip you of your lower clothing until you’re just in your socks and hoodie. It hurts. It hurts so bad, but feels so good to hold it at the same time. Easier in this position to hold it, squeezing your thighs together and suddenly aware of how hard and slick you are in turn.

“Spread your legs, little one.” Bloodhound murmurs softly, their nails skimming up the back of your tense thigh and along your ass. You try to shake your head, crossing your arms under your head as you lie them in the dirt. Despite the shake of your head, your thighs tremble like leaves as you spread them apart, your brow furrowing when cool air rushes across your slick flesh and making your cock twitch.

“What is your color?” A quick check in from them, softly murmured as the hand not tracing your thighs gently strokes back your hair from your face. You whine out a ‘Green’ in turn, nuzzling at your own arms to avoid showing them your flushed and teary face.

“You shall hold it then.” Bloodhound says with such casualness, making your eyes widen as their fingers stroke down your sex. Your hips twitch when their fingers stroke across your cock, up to your hole in a fluid motion and teasing it.

“What? N-no, no, nonono, Hound, I can’t - I-I-”

“You can. And you shall.”

You burn all the way to your ears, only nodding your head frantically as two of their fingers slip into you with ease. You hear them hiss at it, curling their fingers towards your frontal walls in a way you know is just to tease you further with the pressure. You sob out into your arms when their fingers go from the soft, testing curls to starting to thrust into you. Fucking you on their fingers thoroughly as if they would on their strap on.

Three fingers enter you, their pinkie skimming across your swollen cock with each harsh thrust into you. Tears pool down your cheeks, your thighs quivering and your hips trying to jerk away or toward them- not even you can tell at this point. All you can think of is the way your body aches and trembles. Or how hot your face is when you feel a bit of wetness you know is not slick dribbling from you briefly.

“Look at you, elsku litli bráðin mín. I did tell you earlier you could release, and you denied me the same way, yes?” Bloodhound’s voice is a dig into you, curling their condescending claws around your heart as you drool and roll your eyes into the back of your head. Humiliation and embarrassment hold you tight, helpless to their digs as their fingers insistently press upwards and cause the pressure in your lower abdomen to tighten, begging for release.

You sob out when their fingers press and press and press, until you’re forced to piss yourself. The pressure is too much, forcing it out of you and down your thighs and surely onto Bloodhound’s clothed leg. Another sob escapes you when you hear them tsk at you.

“Messy. And you did not even receive permission. How pathetic .” Their voice is dull in your ears that ring with embarrassment and arousal, high off the feeling of their fingers still inside you but just holding there. You choke out an apology, sniffling into your arms despite your hips trying to press back into their hand desperately.

Bloodhound’s fingers start to move again, pounding into you as you let out a muffled scream into your arms. Everything sounded so wet and loud, your toes curling and your legs kicking. Your head is forced back from your arms, their fingers twisting into your hair and yanking you back into a perfect arch just as you cum. The sounds erupting from you are in fact pathetic, high pitched whimpers and ‘thank you’s bursting from you as if praying to a god.

In more than one way, you were.

When you come back to life, you’re blinking away tears, sat up in their lap as Bloodhound cradles you to them. You’re sat sideways in their lap, your head tucked into their neck as they cradle your nape, their other hand gently stroking your inner thigh and making you shudder. You make a soft sound, nosing at their jawline and sigh when they chuckle softly.

“Hello, my love. Are you alright? How are you feeling?” They speak softly, turning their head to kiss your sweaty forehead as you hum in turn.

“’M’ great. A little cold.”

“It is summer.”

“Yeah, but I have Jack Frost holding me right now.”

A laugh blossoms from their lips, icy cold kisses pressed to your cheeks in order to make you laugh and smile, trying to push away from them and whine obnoxiously as you dramatically tilt back in their arms. Inevitably they get you to hold still, their curls tickling your shoulders when they press another kiss to the tip of your nose before their own nuzzles against it affectionately.

It’s your turn to speak first when you settle back down into the quiet, resting your hand atop theirs on your thigh with a satisfied sigh. “Soooo...time for that talk from earlier...you, uh, figured that kink out, huh? Does...Does it weird you out?”

“Not in the slightest. I quite...enjoy new ways to humiliate you. I do not think you have, ah, cum so hard you have passed out in a long time.” They tease you, pressing a kiss to your temple when you let out a noise of embarrassment.

From there, you’re left to settle until you can stand. They offer to carry you, but after insisting you had enough humiliation for one night playfully, they offer your pants instead. Allowing you to see the wet spot covering their thigh, only making you burn red again until they flash you a cocky little smile. “And I thought marking was my responsibility.”

“Hound, please- ”

Their laughter follows throughout the woods. Waiting for you to dress once more before taking your hand and guiding you the rest of the way towards the waterfall for a much, much more needed bath.

You’ll try and... thank them properly once you’re there. For indulging in your little kink.

Marriage was truly a funny thing.

#Bloodhound #Bloodhound x reader #apex lemons #apex legends #nsft #lemon #trans male reader #commissions #princess writing

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ayamari-no-goshi · 3 years

Text

Eidolon 13 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary: AU: What started off as the result of a simple act of rebellion ends up causing his life to spin out of control. How will young Danny cope with the results as well as a past that has a strange habit of coming back to haunt him.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, kidnapping, and various other things

Chapter warnings: implied adult taking advantage of a child

Parings: hints of Danny/Sam much later on

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr

Chapter 13: Perceptions

The pain was like nothing Danny had ever experienced. With each flare, his body became rigid in a desperate attempt to withstand it. He tried, desperately, to relax as the tension just added to the pain, but it was to no avail. The flares were coming in increasing intervals, and his body could not help but brace for them. It was made worse by the lingering burning sensation left from the previous attacks.

A scream escaped him as another flare, more intense than the last, forced him into an unnatural arch. He collapsed almost as soon as it was over. Gripping at the pristine carpet, he bit his lip to hold back another cry as an echo of the pain washed over him. It was difficult to tell how many of the painful flares had coursed through his body or how much time had passed since Vlad forced the unknown substance down his throat. All he understood was the pain was getting more intense, lasting longer, and affecting more of his body each time. Though he was not sure exactly how he knew, the pain he was experiencing had started on or in his skin and was progressively creeping inward, like a small camp fire slowly growing to its full potential.

He wanted to move, to run, to escape from the torture, but it was no use. The pain had left him feeling extremely fragile as if he would shatter if he attempted to move. There was no telling if the strange liquid along with the flares was actually doing damage to his body, or if his current predicament was benign. But it didn't matter anyways. Even if he did manage to move, he would just be struck down by another spasm.

Even if it did kill him, he was going to fight to the very end. He needed to know if Winston was okay, to apologize to his friends for being kidnapped, and to find out what exactly happened to his parents. He absolutely had to accomplish those before he died. There was no way he could ever face his friends and family again if he didn't.

…

Damn, it looked like he wouldn't be able to accomplish his goals after all. His body was beyond exhausted, so much so he could barely muster the strength to open his eyes. The linger burn still coursing through his abused body indicated he was still among the living. The slow and steady thumping of his heart and the rasps of his shallow breaths were the only sounds within the barren room. Each sound seemed to getting weaker as the moments crawled by, but it was difficult to tell just how much more his body could take before it just gave out.

His breath hitched as another flare engulfed his body, but it was different from all the previous ones. It was far more intense and showed no signs of stopping. His body was too overwhelmed by the sensation to even make a sound, and he briefly wondered if this was what dying felt like as the fiery pain seemed to be burning away what was left of his short life. Flashes of regret began to blend into his reality as a small part of his mind registered it was truly the end.

A strange tingling in his finger tips interrupted the pain and alerted him to a new sensation. An icy cold was beginning to seep into his hands. Did that mean the pain spasms were coming to an end? Relief washed through him but was almost immediately replaced by fear as he realized the cold wasn't a blessing. It had begun to snake its way into his body at an alarming rate, freezing the burning flesh and replacing the previously living tissue with frozen death.

The flaring pain did not dissipate as the coldness spread. Instead, it seemed to fight back against the cold to reclaim control. His body became a battle ground between fire and ice, living and dead, as the two forces warred back and forth. Cold tendrils grasped his heart and lungs momentarily halting them bringing more intense pain.

He grabbed at his chest and neck wishing there was something he could do as the fire intensified and tried to burn away the cold. His breathing quickened as he tried to keep himself from falling into the darkness which was gathering at the edges of his vision. The fire was back in control of his lungs, but it was losing ground. Within moments, the cold tendrils had wrapped themselves completely around them. As he took his last painful breaths before his lungs seized completely, he vaguely registered that the door to the room was opening as the blackness finally overtook him.

…..

Consciousness came back to him gradually. Better phrased, his concept of awareness returned. He knew he was curled into a ball while laying on something soft… a bed perhaps? He was stiff and wanted to move, but refrained due to a lingering notion… What was it…? Pain. He had been in pain before waking, but from what?

Slowly, he opened his eyes to find himself on a pure white bed with dark wooden posts. The room it was sitting in had little in terms of furniture and was also an unremarkable white color. Sitting up, his eyes caught sight of a stain on the carpet. An image stirred in his mind of a strange green substance spilling on it. Blood perhaps? No… his wasn't purely green; it was mixed with a human's red.

But wait… wasn't he human? He shook his head of the thought. It didn't seem completely right, but it wasn't entirely wrong either. He glanced at his hands in the hopes they held some sort of clue to his jumbled thoughts, but they were unremarkable: tanner than average will giving off a faint whitish glow.

Sitting up, he rested his face in his hands as he tried to piece together his jumbled thoughts. Most of his memories were blurs, flashing with momentary clarity before speeding away. Why wouldn't anything come to him? He knew someone who he didn't really like placed him in the room, but the reason behind it remained gone. Maybe some food would help him think better.

How had he not noticed how hungry he was until now? The feeling of emptiness in his stomach was enough to make him woozy. The feeling combined with a general weakness throughout his body made him feel hesitant to move lest he pass out again. Yet, he knew if he could make it to the center of the room there was something which would at least hold him over until he could find something more substantial.

Instinct eventually won out over his reason, and he forced himself to look for it. He tried to stand but nearly collapsed as soon as he started to put weight on his feet; whatever he had gone through before waking had really taken a toll on his body. Frustrated, he called upon the small reserve of energy held within his core to help take him to his destination.

Thinking it would be alright, he allowed himself to drop down to the floor, only to fall to his knees when gravity reasserted itself. Wow, he was weaker than he thought. Good thing the energy source was directly below him. He hesitantly placed a hand on the carpet above what he thought might be a large battery. He could feel it pumping out energy throughout the room under the floor and through the walls. Though it was difficult to tell exactly what the energy was, he knew it was somewhat dangerous to him. Perhaps it was designed to keep him in the room? Or maybe it was there to help prevent him from falling through the floor.

He could worry about the implications later. Right now, he needed to feed. Carefully, he pushed his hand through the carpet and wood underneath and allowed it to rest on the top of the machine beneath him. He could feel the energy start being directed from the machine and into his hand. He smiled in delight as the energy, which he now knew was electrical with some ectoplasmic properties, filled his body with power and lessened the hunger.

Vaguely, he wondered if it would be a problem if he continued to take the energy from the machine. Whoever had placed the machine there would probably be upset if it stopped working... So, he would only take a little bit more and then try to find another more viable source for later. It was a good plan, but a strange notion broke through his satisfaction. It wasn't normal for someone to put their hand through a solid object.

Panicked, Danny pulled his hand out of the floor and stared at it. He… he had just purposely put his hand through the floor! How did he…? Why did he…? He glanced down at the spot in question, hoping for some sort of answer. Nothing seemed out of place. Heck, if it wasn't for what had happened and the strange sensation telling him something was there, he wouldn't have even known the machine was just under the floor.

Confusion took over his thoughts as he rationally tried to understand how he knew it was there let alone take energy from it. He barely made any progress as he was suddenly hit with a wave of nausea. A groan escaped him as he could feel the sheen of sweat starting to form on his skin. Going from experience, he knew he was not going to be able to accomplish anything substantial until it passed. Danny took slow deep breaths as he propped himself against the bed as he attempted to wait it out.

Was this really going to continue to happen every time something weird happened to him? If so, he was really going to have to consider investing in Pepto-Bismol.

…

"Ah, I see you're awake," a cultured voice said in an offhanded way after the door to the room opened. There was a momentary pause before it spoke again, "Feeling under the weather? I can't say I blame you. Not only is your body adjusting to its new constitution, but ectoplasm isn't the friendliest of substances to ingest."

Danny could feel his eyes widen as he turned around to look at his captor. "Y-You knew about this…? W-what did you do to me?"

Vlad just smiled as he walked over and crouched down in front of him. "Of course I knew! We're the same breed after all." He then gently grabbed Danny by the jaw to prevent the boy from looking away. "I knew the concentrated ectoplasm would be enough to trigger a proper transformation. You should thank me; it would have taken you months to get this far."

"Transformation…? I don't…. What are you talking about?" He stammered as he tried to make sense of what the older man was saying as he slapped the man's hand away from him. Though he was feeling much better than he was previously, he didn't want to get too aggravated. There was no telling when his stomach was going to rebel against him again.

"You haven't realized it yet? …Or perhaps you've been too… occupied to even consider the differences in your body." Without a warning, Vlad then grabbed him by the arm and yanked him into a standing position before pulling him out of the room and down the hall. Danny barely had time to register the yellow and green décor of the hallway before he was shoved into what appeared to be an exceptionally large powder room complete with a full sized mirror. "Perhaps this will help make things clear, though I have to admit, I believed you were going to look much more impressive. Ah well, that will teach me to take complete stock in old legends."

Taking a few moments to make sure he was mostly fine before he gave the billionaire a puzzled glance. The man's response was to smirk and wave him towards the mirror and the reflection within it. Hesitantly, Danny complied though a few confused moments passed before he understood what he was truly seeing.

The boy in the mirror had a slightly tanned complexion combined with incredibly bleached (but was it truly bleached…?) snowy white hair with silvery highlights. The boy's eyes were an unnatural color; the same green of the drink Vlad had forced into him. The clothes were rather plain: straight legged black jeans with a couple accent chains and a black t-shirt with white trimming along the neck and sleeve edges. A white studded belt and black half-gloves with white cuffs completed the look.

It took him even longer to realize the image in front of him actually belonged to him. His immediate reaction was to look over his body to see if he wasn't hallucinating. How in the world did he manage to get into his current get up? While he didn't mind the overall effect (it was actually somewhat cool), he was a little more than creeped out by the implications. Glancing at the billionaire who was leaning against the door looking rather smug, Danny had to repress a shudder. No about of therapy would ever fix this.

"So… What do you think of the new you, Daniel?" Vlad asked him once he realized Danny was done taking in his new appearance.

"What do you mean 'what do I think'? How did you…? When did you….?" Danny's hands flailed as he tried to piece together a coherent question. Several more half-formed phrases were sputtered as slowly backed away from Vlad until he bumped into the sink.

The older man chuckled darkly as he watched Danny's frantic movements. "I assure you that the only thing I've done after giving you that drink was to place you on the bed. Nothing more, nothing less. Your current appearance is a product of your transformation."

"Transformation…? Is that what you're calling it?" Danny spat at Vlad as his suspicions began turning into horror. "Ugh!" Another wave of nausea overcame him causing him to stumble. Vaguely he understood his body still hadn't recovered properly which was being amplified by his panic. But, the majority of his mind just wanted to know 'why now'?

As he tried to recompose himself, his hand which was resting on the sink suddenly slipped. He was able to catch himself before he fell on his face, but quickly realized he hadn't actually slipped. Instead, his hand had decided it was a great time to become insubstantial and pass through it and part of the dark mahogany cabinet underneath. Panicking both from the event and the knowledge someone who was not a friend had witnessed the strange event, he tried to pull his arm free only to realize it had become effectively stuck.

"Panicking is only going to make the situation worse." Vlad's tone was rather matter of fact as he surveyed the scene. Danny couldn't understand how he wasn't disturbed by the sight in front of him, until he remembered Vlad wasn't just a man, he was a literal monster as well. The older man moved forward slightly with an outstretched hand. "Here, let me help you. There are several pressing matters awaiting both of us, and it saddens me to see you struggling with the most basic of your powers."

"Stay away from me! You're nothing more than a seriously crazed up fruitloop!" he shouted as he frantically tried to free his arm. Vlad paid him no mind as came over, gently grabbed his arm, and phased it out of the sink.

Under normal circumstances, Danny would have thanked the man for helping him out of such a situation. However, getting an arm stuck in a sink could never be considered 'normal.' "Get off me!" he shouted as he shoved Vlad, startling the older man. Knowing he had a chance, Danny made a break for the now unguarded door and ran down the hall in the opposite direction from where he originally came.

…

After turning yet another corner, Danny came to the conclusion he was hopelessly loss in a gigantic house belonging to a madman who was currently chasing after him. He wasn't even exactly sure how he knew the billionaire was in pursuit, but something in the back of his mind kept whispering that he needed to keep moving as Vlad wasn't too far away. It wasn't quite a flight or fight instinct as that wouldn't give him knowledge of which general direction Vlad was in, but he wasn't too sure what else to call it. Whatever it was, it was certainly useful. Even if he couldn't find the exit, he would at least be able to stay one step ahead of his pursuer.

… Well, as long as his energy held up he could stay ahead. He was still rather stiff from the pain and convulsions from prior to passing out. It also didn't help he was still nauseous, but it was starting to pass. He was pleasantly surprised. Usually, he wasn't very athletic, but he had covered an impressive amount of ground in the time he had escaped from Vlad. It was probably adrenaline, but he didn't care. Any little edge which could help him get away was very welcome.

He shook his head as he rested against a nearby wall as he gave himself a moment to relax and try to get all the images out of his head. Not knowing exactly what happened to him while he was unconscious was serious starting to freak him out, but he needed to keep his wits about him if he was going to have any chance of escaping.

A cold sensation interrupted his thoughts causing him to look to his right. Vlad was starting to get close to where he was again, but how was the man coming from that particular direction? Wasn't he coming from behind him a few minutes before hand? He shook his head again as he started sprinting down the hall. Fear was starting to eat at him as he ran. Vlad's presence seemed to get closer every time he came to another bend. It was almost as if he was moving through the walls…. It took Danny a moment to realize that was a very real possibility. If Vlad could pass through solid objects such as people, wouldn't he be able to do the same with the walls?

Danny skidded to a stop as he came to another crossway in the green and yellow decorated corridors. He was getting nowhere fast, and he only had moments before Vlad found him. Taking another quick break, he took the left hallway and started moving even faster than he had been previously. At the end of the hall was an open area, which appeared to lead to a large staircase. If he could get there, he would probably be somewhere near an exit!

There was only a few feet left until he would be able to see the new area clearly, meaning it would only take a few seconds, but his luck refused to hold out. He stumbled which caused him to fall face first to the floor.

….

Danny was incredibly disoriented as his vision cleared. He must have hit his head when he fell. Damn it! He had been so close! Wait, how long had it been since he fell? Had Vlad found him? Standing up, he found himself in a rather large room with the ceiling being exceptionally high. More than a little unsure where he was, he started looking around for an exit.

The walls of this room were even more unremarkable than the ones in the room he had been trapped in for a few days. Theses ones were a dull gray; no different than a slab of concrete. In fact, that maybe exactly what they were made of. There were no windows or apparent doors which made it feel more like a prison. Vlad must have found him and thrown him in to teach him a lesson. Damn it! How was he going to be able to escape now?

While he continued to look around, something hard stabbed him in the back. He was about to swat it away when a strange and unpleasant energy spread from the object's tip into his body. A scream escaped him as the energy burned and shocked him, creating a feeling almost equaling the pain of the spasms from earlier. Just as suddenly as they started, they stopped. Relief washed through him as he tried to recover, but it was short lived. Something hard hit his face and sent him flying into the closest wall about three feet off the floor.

Sliding down the wall was almost as bad as being hit. The wall had originally been a smooth texture, but his impact created several spider web cracks. To say the least, it was a very unpleasant feeling to slide over them as he fell to the floor. As he tied to sit up and figure out what hit him, something with that same pulsing energy as before came very close to his neck. He looked up to see a glowing green bo staff being wielded by what he assumed was a person. It appeared to have a woman's shape, but it was dressed in a protective suit… What were they called…? Hazmat…? Yes, hazmat… that sounded right.

The suit was a strange blue – gray color and skin tight. It had a hood which was pulled up over the unknown person's head, hiding the hair. Redish goggles completed the outfit and made the person's eyes seem inhuman and angry.

"Don't move!" the person hissed, moving the end of the bo staff a little closer to Danny's neck. "I don't know why Vlad sent you, but I am not going to let a ghost harm either me or my daughter!" The voice was harsh, protective, and unfamiliar, but it was female.

"Woah! Hold on a second!" Danny stammered as he eyed the glowing weapon in front of him. "I'm not going to hurt you! I didn't even realize you were here!"

The woman's eyes narrowed from within her goggles as she connected her staff with his skin once again. His screams only ended when the staff's strange energy was no longer coursing through his body. "Nice try ghost," she told him as she stabbed him with it again. "But I'm not going to fall for it! All of you are the same!"

"Wh-what are you talking about…?" Danny asked weakly as the weapon was removed. Not only were the shocks painful, but they seemed to be zapping his strength. "What ghost? I'm… I'm not a ghost!"

"Oh, and I suppose normal people have unnaturally white hair and glow?"

"Hey, that was something Vlad did to me…! Wait a minute… I'm glowing?" A memory from when he first woke up in the white room flashed though his mind. He glanced down at his hands and examined them closely. It was hard to see in the light, but there did appear to be a faint white glow around his hands. "Why the hell am I glowing? What was in that drink he gave me?"

"You didn't even realize…" the woman muttered faintly as she continued to stare at him. Her expression wasn't completely devoid of malice, but at least some curiosity had made its way into it. "You're either newly formed or a really good actor… Hmm… I've never gotten to study a newly formed ghost before…"

Danny tried to scoot away from her. He didn't like how this conversation was starting to go. However, he would probably still choose dealing with the woman with the weapon and questionable sanity instead of the creepiness that was Vlad any day. "Look, I really didn't mean to bother you!" he told be quickly as once again looked around for an exit, but it was difficult due to the woman's proximity to him. "I really want to leave as much as you seem to want me to, so if you could please just show me where the door is, I'll be out of your hair!"

The woman frowned at his words as if she was making sure she had heard him correctly. She once again put her staff underneath his chin. He flinched at the touch as he prepared for another shock, but none came. He opened his eyes to see that the woman was using the staff to help her get a clearer view of his face. What was it with people doing that to him? Was there something wrong with the way he looked? Well… that was a ridiculous question to ask with his current appearance, but at least the woman wasn't shocking him this time.

"Fascinating! Your form is incredibly similar to that of a human's, and you clearly still think like one."

"'Think'? What's with this think business? I am human!"

The woman seemed like she was about to say something else, but was gently pushed aside by a smaller form with long red hair. "Mom!" the figure warned as she glanced back and forth between him and the woman. "You're scaring him!" She then turned towards Danny, smiled, and extended her hand. "Here, I'll help you up. By the way, my name is Jazz."

============================================

Um, I'm just going to point this out now. I don't support Pompous Pep, at all, or adults taking 'advantage of children'. But with the way Vlad's acting and being very vague about the entire event, combined with Danny having no clue how he got the change of clothes adds up to Danny's suspicions. Honestly, I wasn't even expecting to add that bit in there until I started writing it and realized, "wow, this situation just suggests pedophile…. Vlad, you are a creepy man!"

Oh, and to explain the part where Danny woke up… I'm not sure how many of you are familiar with the different aspects of ghosts, but it is not unusual to see electronic equipment act up or lose power when a ghost is present. Current belief is that the ghost will somehow barrow power from a device and use it manifest itself. Some can also draw on emotions (like Spectra), but those tend to be negative entities.

#Eidolon #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #danny phantom #danny phantom au #dp #dp au #danny fenton #sam manson #vlad plasmius #tucker foley #maddie fenton #jazz fenton #fantasy #paranormal #supernatural

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jacksgreysays · 4 years

Note

Hail to the Queen, Shikako, Uzushio remix?

it could have gone like this:

"Not it!" Tatsuma shouts, such an abrupt and loud interjection to their otherwise calm conversation that Shikako startles.

Hiki and Yose, quick to follow, exchange a glance before putting their index fingers to the tips of their noses, also declaring, "Not it!"

In a bewildering cascade, the other department heads do the same. Some more graceful than others, but no less swift, until at the end of it Shikako is the only one left in the room who hasn't disavowed... whatever is going on.

Kairyu, the ancient and wizened head of the summoning department, gives Shikako a wide and alarmingly sadistic smile. "Congratulations, Uzukage-sama," he says.

"What." Shikako looks around, trying to find the context clues that will make that statement understandable. The other department heads smile back at her with varying levels of glee. They don't look like Kairyu has said anything bizarre such as declaring her, an outsider, Uzukage. "What, no."

They continue to smile at her, some of them going so far as to similarly congratulate her for becoming Uzukage.

"Nooooooo," she says, drawing the word out. "No, this can't be how--no, this doesn't make any..." Shikako looks down at the sheaf of papers in front of her, the reports from each of the heads summarizing their respective departments' latest research and achievements.

In the past few years since Shikako has settled in this world--and, more specifically, in Uzushio--she's had to adjust to their way of life. The society built around innovation and creativity, the common and almost casual use of fuinjutsu to break and remake reality was easy. Less so was their sense of humor.

The village has accepted her with aplomb, generous and encompassing, and Shikako thinks if she cannot go home, then this is a satisfactory second place. She could maybe do with a little less pranking, but that's apparently just how communication and affection is done in Uzu culture.

Incredulous, she looks back up at them. "This can't possibly be how you choose the Uzukage."

Kairyu strokes his chin; despite his age, his beard still has hints of red in it, a sign of the famous Uzumaki vitality. "It used to follow a bloodline and it was a life term sort of thing."

Shikako nods, because that at least makes sense; that's how Sand and Stone do it, at least.

"But we decided that wasn't fair..." he continues, and Shikako nods at that, too. Monarchies aren't known for being a government of equal and just representation.

"... because what if they wanted to go into academia and were forced instead into leadership? For life? Can you imagine the inventions trapped and forever denied to us because they were busy with diplomacy or war? Just imagine the advancements we could have lost! So we decided a five year term was long enough for stability, but short enough that the Uzukage wouldn't stagnate too much in their chosen field."

Shikako does not nod at this. This is a bonkers way to choose a leader. Then again, Uzushio is weird enough that this might not actually be a joke. "... and the deciding process?"

Hiki and Yose pat her shoulders in a commiserating manner. "The mathematics department thanks you for your service, Uzukage-sama," Hiki says.

"The music department is a wretched hive of near constant activity," Yose adds, fondly disparaging her own department. "I can't even imagine handing it over to my deputy for five whole years just to run the village."

Tatsuma shakes his head solemnly, "I'm sure you'll be faster next time, Uzukage-sama."

---

it should have gone like this:

Later, when she and Naruto are trying to figure out how it all happened, the two of them in the neutral--or, perhaps more accurately, mutually claimed--territory of Land of Wave it will be Tsunami who provides an explanation.

"It's an Oath of the Ocean," she says simply, a gentle smile on her face. Shikako wonders if she feels at all weird that the Hokage and Uzukage use her house as a meeting spot or if she just sees them both as the twelve year olds she met all those years ago.

Naruto crinkles his nose in confusion while Shikako wracks her brain desperately for any memory of that phrase. Nothing is coming up, but she's only been Uzukage for a few months and there have been a lot of higher priority matters to deal with. They look at her beseechingly and her cheek dimples with amusement: that's a point for the twelve year olds.

Tsunami joins them at her dining table and two of the most powerful people in the Elemental Nations eagerly defer to her. "It's something my mother used to tell me stories of when I was a little girl," she begins while Shikako pours her tea, the steam of it wafting up and adding to the ambiance. "Daring tales of adventure and camaraderie, the power of loyalty and devotion and promises..."

While entertaining, the stories for the most part followed a similar train of heroism, sacrifice, and the sort of happily ever afters that could only exist in a shinobi society. They did involve two or more heroes, at least, which somewhat matched their current situation, but otherwise the tales were so disparate that Shikako couldn't see the common thread.

"... I believe she said that ninja of the Hidden Leaf had a similar thing--something to do with fire, I think?" Tsunami concluded, taking a sip of her tea.

"The Will of Fire?" Naruto asks, glancing from Tsunami to Shikako in confirmation.

"Hm, yes, that sounds like it," Tsunami says. "But it was so long ago."

Shikako hums, considering. The Will of Fire is an actual phenomenon, even if it's been largely couched in PR terms that obfuscate the science behind it. The other villages have their own sort of strange skills--like the Hero's Water of Hidden Waterfall or the Desert Scions of Sand--so perhaps that's what the Oath of the Ocean is as well.

Although how it can do so much with so little is baffling:

Naruto needed to be present at the Chuunin Exams in Cloud as Hokage. Jokingly, he had said to Shikako, "Look after my village while I'm gone."

Shikako had responded with a fond roll of her eyes, "Your home is my home."

And when a gaggle of administrative nin carrying a ludicrous number of scrolls amongst them entered his office, Naruto grinned slyly. "And my people, your people," he said, clapping a hand on her shoulder before fleeing like the absolute coward any Hokage becomes when faced with paperwork.

That should have been it.

Except a few days into her temporary regency, news came in of a grand fleet of ships that had made landfall in the ruins of Uzushio. And another few days after that, a pair of messengers with bright red hair introduced themselves as representatives of the Uzu Flotilla seeking their Uzukage.

Gamely, Shikako explained that their, well, princess was in another castle so to speak. And, also, already Hokage.

"The name Naruto Uzumaki is a good Uzukage name," one of the messengers, Nagare, says with a shrug.

"Very traditional," the other messenger, Mancho, pipes in agreement. "Also, very famous!"

"And that is why the elders considered bringing the flotilla back earlier. We heard tell of him even on our journey," Nagare continues, "But he's not our Uzukage."

Nodding, Mancho adds, "We'd know."

Desperately trying to hide her confusion, Shikako nods in return.

"We didn't sense them until, what, six maybe seven days ago?" Nagare asks, turning to Mancho.

"Eight, I think. Although those first few days there was a lot of partying so my count might be wrong, too."

Shikako deliberately does not think of the number of days since Naruto left Konoha. "So do you need help finding whoever is your new Uzukage?" she asks, hopefully.

Nagare and Mancho turn to her, both of them bemused. "Nooooo," Mancho says slowly.

Nagare answers, "We've already found her."

---

but it actually went like this:

When everything is over, the world in relative peace, Shikako requests herself for a mission. A training trip, she'd assured everyone, much like the one she took to the Fire Temple all those years ago.

Except this time it would be to the ruins of Uzushio.

The Hokage doesn't tell her no. This is the first thing she's wanted that had nothing to do with preventing the end of the world. And so she goes.

Nothing much happens on that first trip. It's largely exploring the area, carefully mapping out or weatherproofing the places she finds. Some buildings are relatively well preserved enough that she knows she can leave it for another time, others are so reduced to rubble that she can only mark the location and hope if anything is left there to salvage it will survive a while longer.

Before too long, her month is up and she goes back to Konoha vowing to return.

Progress is slow going, really. The second, third, and fourth trips are much the same. At this point her friends consider it more a personal vacation than sabbatical, akin to taking time off to go camping and enjoying the ocean air. They're not entirely wrong, but there is an unshakeable, lingering air of solemnity through it all.

The fifth trip she makes a D-rank so she can bring her students along without things going to hell in a hand basket. Thankfully, it works. And while there still isn't much in the way of fuinjutsu discoveries, it is a good trip.

The following trips, Shikako and her team clear and collect more and more to the point where now they have to spend more time collating and archiving than continuing their explorations. When she brings this up at a kunochi club meeting, Shiho's eyes brighten.

"And there's no danger?" Shiho asks, eager but still anxious.

"There's no danger," Shikako assures. "But even if there was, I will handle it. Everyone is under my protection." Shikako herself is still uneasy saying such things, but if it brings comfort to others, she'll let them use her reputation as a shield.

With a gaggle of intel nin sorting through their findings, Shikako and her team are freed up again to explore. More progress is made in that trip than before, and while nothing particularly inspiring is found there are some techniques which improve existing practices or tweak them enough to cause vigorous discussion when Shikako returns to the RnD with notes.

It continues like this for a while, a fairly small operation.

Shikako has no idea how Kankurou finds out about it.

"I'm just going where the Kazekage sends me," Kankurou says, his own gaggle of intel nin clustered behind him. "It's not like your movements are exactly secret, and the old nags in Suna are making noises about Leaf expanding their territory."

Before she can protest, he continues, "I know that's not what it is, Gaara knows that's not what it is, but we still have to do something to keep them quiet. So hey, here's some of our nerds if you want to put them to work. That one in particular is good with reversing the effects of erosion." Kankurou points to one of the Sand nin who meeps and ducks his head. "They're your responsibility now. Have fun."

"And what are you going to do?" Shikako asks, eying him skeptically.

"Whatever I want? There's sand and there's sun. So it's kind of like home, except no one is bugging me to do anything," he answers.

Famous last words. Shikako does put him to work, using the puppets to go into areas where it's not structurally sound enough for humans. Although that has more to do with the fact that after three days of doing nothing he keeps distracting her genin out of boredom that, really, he was asking for it.

They discover so much.

The ball is rolling by that point. Other villages send representatives of their own, mostly researchers with one or two guards but even those guards join in the efforts. Soon the villages collectively decide to build an international outpost there to be maintained and staffed throughout the year. When her team are promoted to chuunin, Shikako spends more of her time supervising the outpost than in Konoha, though they are frequent visitors and researchers as well.

It's not the same, she knows. It's not a whole village thriving and growing, but it's people eager to learn and discover and create for the sake of knowledge and that, Shikako thinks, is close enough in spirit than what Uzushio has had for a long, long time.

And when she walks the land, she can feel that lingering air of solemnity has finally been lifted and replaced with something new.

A/N: .... ooOOOOOOOOOHHHH!!! Oh no, anon!!! You know how emotionally compromised I am by Uzushio!!! I am so immediately overwhelmed by my feels!!! I can't do this justice, I love my impossible, ideal Uzushio too much I can never convey it, but I tried, anon, I tried.

For the Could/Should/Actually Fic Ask Box Event!

#jacksgreyson #anonymous #prompt response #writing #fanfiction #could should actually fic #dreaming of sunshine #naruto #hail to the queen #uzushio #shikako nara #naruto uzumaki #tsunami #shiho #Sabaku no Kankurou #blood and earth (not theory and chalk)#closer to home

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polymathemawrites · 3 years

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Hand Holds 2/?

cw: same as before but we’re adding on descriptions of borderline hypothermia to the mix

Mathias and Flynn find themselves up against the elements and get snowed in together

Posting the letters at the mailbox, Mathias waits till the flap goes back down, snapping into place as whatever odd Dalaran magic sucks the letters off and away. Moving towards the gryphon master he notes out of the corner of his eye, Fairwind shoving their mugs off onto one of the lodge workers. By the time he's finished arranging for Shadowtalon's return to Boralus after her rest the Captain has finished and come to stand at his side.

"But won't you be wanting to go with her?" The gryphon master asks, peering up at the dark sky, "If you plan to go on foot somewhere, I'd do it another day, this storm is going to turn nasty soon."

Mathias followed the man's gaze but only saw the same slow flurry of snowflakes that seemed to always fall this time of year near the mountains. "How soon?" It still paid to listen to locals, every bit of intel helped.

"By morning at least but you'd get better information from a Tidesage as to what the water wants to do."

"Not a lot of them about here right now, mate. Otherwise we would have had your fires put out in minutes." Fairwind smiles amiably at the man, "What sort of storm are we talking?"

"At least twelve inches of cover, likely. See how much colder it's gotten with the sun down?"

Used to Elwynn's more mild winters in comparison to Tiragarde, Mathias considered it was always colder here but did note that there'd been a sharp drop earlier. Thanking the gryphon master he checked his bag one last time, going to stand behind the inn as he did it, unsurprised that Fairwind had followed him there.

"Where are we going?" Fairwind asks, casually leaning against the side of the inn, the bustle of recovery efforts a hum behind him.

"This isn't a we. I'm scouting and you're not coming, Captain." He can't look at the man, he can't bring himself to, as if he knows if he does, his entire resolve will crumble.

"Have you ever scouted through Tiragarde on foot, Master Shaw? It's not easy, not that I'm doubting your abilities, Tides know you have enough of them, but when a storm comes on it's impossible to wayfind your way out unless you know the area intimately, even then it's a gamble. I'm sober for once," Fairwind laughs and Mathias turns to him against his better judgement, the man is suffused with warmth and good cheer, the colour of his eyes is hidden in the dark corner they're tucked into but the glint of them is unmistakable, the man is not just easy on the eyes, he is breathtaking like this - a private moment stolen, a view of the man that was entirely Mathias' and no one else, "And I know Kul Tiras like the back of my hand, let me be your guide for the night, you won't regret it."

That Fairwind could make that sound like a sexual invitation really doesn't surprise him, what does is his own response.

"Fine, but you need to keep up with me or I'll leave you in a snow bank to freeze."

He wouldn't really leave him in a snowbank to freeze and Fairwind seems to know this for he laughs softly as if it's a joke. Mathias realizes that maybe it is, seeing as he wouldn't just leave him. With Fairwind's steady stride and slightly longer legs it's not too difficult for the man to keep up anyway. By the time they're onto the road and skirting a field of ice elementals the Captain has told him about the history of the Lodge, the Wendigo that had devoured an entire encampment of guards in one night, and the time he fell off a horse and nearly broke his leg. Two of these things were regionally applicable, the horse bit had absolutely nothing to do with anything else happening and Mathias was turning mental summersaults attempting to figure out how Fairwind had connected it all together.

He's forced to give it up when the man asks him a direct question, "Where are we heading again?"

"I never told you actually, so there is no 'again' at all."

"Fairs that, so where are we heading?"

In the distance he can see the watchtower of Vigil Hill and above them the steady snowfall has continued, but it doesn't seem to be picking up much, if at all. "Down the Drustvar coast, some adventurers caught sight of a Horde encampment and I want to get eyes on it as soon as possible." He hears the apprehension in Fairwind's steps and manages to outpace the man by a few feet before the ex-pirate picks up his pace to fall alongside him again. After one run in with the Horde today, he's not surprised by the reaction, the Captain wasn't a soldier, he wasn't a fighter, he was a sailor who worked for profit and Mathias should have told him right off, it probably would have dissuaded the man entirely. "You can turn back or stay in Vigil Hill, I'll understand."

"Oh don't worry, you won't get rid of me that easily." The levity and bravado is back into Fairwind's voice and step and Mathias is warmed faintly by the courage in the man, or perhaps idiocy, save he doesn't think it is that - Fairwind is perfectly capable of measuring the risk to reward of any given task, it's what makes him such a good runner of Azerite, amongst other things. It's just not entirely clear what the reward is here, what has the man following him on a scouting mission at all. Certainly Mathias isn't such splendid company that it's reward enough to follow him into a potentially dangerous situation?

"Good thing I thought to pack some food to bring along, thought I'd need to bunk down for the night but they had it all well in hand by the time we even got there."

"Yes, Holton seems to keep things running smoothly."

"Should be enough to feed the two of us, hopefully. You could eat enough for an ogre when you get your mind into it." Fairwind's tone is fond so the comment doesn't rankle him as much as it would coming from someone else. Many things the man says would have caused him a bit of ire coming from anyone else, which just goes to show how compromised he's become concerning his feelings for the Captain. "Not that you look like one, has anyone told you lately how beautif-" Fairwind's words are cut off abruptly by Mathias throwing his arm out to prevent the man from walking his way off the path and into a ditch, but also because he didn't think he could handle hearing the rest.

"Oh, thanks love, wasn't watching where I was going, too busy watching you!" Fairwind laughs and throws him a charming smile which he turns his attention from entirely, although silence and ignoring him had never worked on Fairwind even once. He nearly trips when the full sentence catches up with though, the casual use of 'love' and the flirtatious turn of phrase - it is only the years and years of training that kept his footing stable.

"You would do best to pay attention to your steps, I'll let you tumble into the ditch next time."

"Wouldn't want you any other way, hardly yourself if you just follow me around keeping me out of ditches."

Mathias sighs, "Please do not make me regret allowing you to come with me."

"Do my best, love, but if you end up killing me and burying me in the snow, will you at least pour one out for me?"

Mathias throws him a worried and slightly confused look, "Why would I kill you? We're on the same side, Fairwind."

"Oh I meant, if I ever get on your nerves, or I suppose more of them than I usually do." The actual sheepish and self conscious tone of the man's voice sends a spike of guilt and something softer and sadder through him.

"You're charming and pleasant company, Fairwind." More than pleasant, Mathias had to admit to himself, he's relatively sure any number of people who knew him would have laughed at him for a number of things he'd done that day, from getting caught up in Feathermoon's trap to agreeing to let Flynn Fairwind himself follow him on a covert operation. Noticing the Captain has gone silent he glances to the side only to see a dark flush striping across Fairwind's handsome face. "Captain?"

The ex-pirate looks at him with an abrupt jerk, that curious flush tinting darker, "Oh, you're not putting one on?" The man cocks his head to consider Mathias and as such he's not watching where he's going and despite what he'd just said about letting Fairwind meet his end in a ditch he carefully maneuvers the man to cross into Vigil Hill without ending up in water. "Just a little hard to believe coming from you, mate."

"I like it when people can keep up with me in actions and words." The repartee they'd shared during the Vault job and after had been a pleasure, and Fairwind was capable of keeping up with him in many ways. He was perhaps overly lonely to have the company mean so much to him but the temperature was swiftly dropping and Vigil Hill was empty at this hour (and after much of the inhabitants had fled during the Ashvane funded incursion of pirates earlier in the year) so someone keeping up with him meant more than it probably should. They were ignored by the Night Watch, being just two men passing through, and Fairwind didn't bring attention to them by replying until they were out of the outpost and headed toward the northern point of the little isle.

Now far enough away from Kenning's Lodge the air lacked the acrid burn of smoke and instead set his lungs on fire via the cold. The snow was beginning to fall in a speed with which Mathias was starting to believe would be up to a gnome's knees soon. The northern end of Vigil Hill was home to a dock and moored there was a row boat and a lone watchman who stood from his chair as they made their way to him, grease lamp held high. "If you're looking for passage I'm not takin' anyone further than Hangman's Point."

"Come on, it's colder than a witch's tits and you won't take us down the coast?"

"Go get your own boat if you want to go further." The man looks old enough to be Mathias' father, not that he ever knew the man himself, still he could sympathize, the water looked ready to turn to slush and the man's spine was already bent, the cold probably wasn't helping.

"Just passage to Drustvar will do, thank you ferryman." Mathias cut in before Fairwind could make enough of a nuisance of them to have the man's mind change entirely about taking them over at all.

The trip over is uneventful after the aging boatman is convinced to let them row instead. Falling into a silent syncopation allows Mathias to center himself again and leave behind the Captain's flirtations.

When they disembark the ferryman holds his hand up to halt them. "If you're coming back this way you won't need a boat lads, the water will be frozen by morning, thick enough to walk on it."

"We will likely be taking a gryphon from the town north of here, thank you for the advice and safe passage." Mathias bows.

Fairwind, shaking out his hands gives his own farewell, "If it's going to be frozen you get yourself into a warm place then and take care crossing, you won't have us to feel guilty and row for you."

The ferryman laughs and his voice carries eerily over the water, the sound of the oars dipping into slush following.

Turning away from the water to look at the thick forest of Drustvar he felt more than saw Fairwind do the same as the man's arm brushed against his.

"Can't say I wanted to spend the day before Winter's Veil eve in Drustvar, but the company is worth it."

"Are you going to flirt with me the entire time?" Mathias turns, footprints left in the sand, looking for the nearest path to cut into the woods and away from the open air of the shore, the feeling of exposure sent a curl of chill down his spine which didn't help the fact that he was now freezing.

Flynn was remarkably silent for once when he strode to follow after him. "That coming from the man who just said he enjoyed my company. But I'll confess, I wasn't sure if you even knew I was flirting, mate. If it makes you uncomfortable I'll stop."

"It doesn't." It comes out before he even has a chance to stop himself, and then he's backpedaling, "But it's highly inappropriate and you should stop anyway."

Fairwind's footsteps falter behind him but then speed up and the man is at his side again despite Mathias trying very hard to outpace him at that exact moment. Damn his longer legs, damn all of Fairwind really.

"Inappropriate for who, or for why at that matter?"

There is a break in the treeline, what looks like a trampled path, maybe caused by animals, or maybe by men. He carefully pulls himself up the rocks before the trees, stopping only to turn and hold his hand out to help Fairwind as well.

Without pause, the ex-pirate takes his hand and uses the hold to help himself up. Standing suddenly chest to chest at the edge of the treeline, Mathias falls still and shivers.

"You're cold-" the Captain begins, only for Mathias to cut him off.

"You're not my subordinate, I have no rank over you, but I am the Spymaster and you constantly doing this in public, without me reprimanding you for it, will likely only result in people thinking I'm a pushover. No one is allowed to take those liberties with me, Fairwind. I do not allow it, if you were one of my agents I would have put a stop to it long ago."

They're still holding hands, still close enough to embrace.

"I'm not your agent." Fairwind smiles down at him, it sends a thrill through Mathias that settles like heat in the pit of his stomach. "No one could ever call you a pushover, love. No amount of rank and class is going to get me to stop, only you. You tell me you don't want it, and I'll stop, for you." He registers Fairwind's other hand coming up slowly, toward his cheek, before it can touch him a familiar and unwanted sound proceeds the sudden and sharp slash of air through the trees.

In Northrend, the howl of a blizzard was something he'd come to recognize. Even kept safe in the thick walls of the keep the wailing of nature was prevalent. Here, it hit with such sudden ferocity he grasped onto Flynn's arm for support, about to tell the man they needed cover when Flynn shouted it for him.

"If we don't get inside we'll be snowed under, love!"

He doesn't even need to spur them on, Flynn is practically dragging him along the path, and he kicks off at speed, rushing them along faster.

Maybe in Tiragarde the snow would have come down slower - there was something supernatural about the speed with which the forest was being buried by this storm. With local legends (or truths) about Witches running rampant and the Drust plaguing the place, it led credence to those thoughts. He could only hope that the Horde outpost to the south was being similarly affected.

Within minutes visibility was gone, their only boon was that the path they'd found kept them from needing to beat down the bush cover.

He hadn't been frozen before, not now that the howling wind was cutting him to the bone, the only source of warmth he could feel was the hand still clasped in Flynn's own.

When practical thoughts of survival turned steadily toward an acceptance of death, when he began to feel hot - he knew he was right about the magic in the snow. His pace was sluggish and yet Flynn still dragged him onward, he could hear the man howl something at the sky, but he didn't understand it, or maybe he was hallucinating.

The idea that he was beginning to slip became even more likely when he could swear he saw the impression of a building. Except then they were sheltered from the howl of the wind before it and Flynn was about to kick the door in so Mathias came to his senses enough to pull the ex-pirate back. He dropped their linked hands finally to go for his lock picking kit. The door's defenses fell away readily enough and the door was saved from having it's hinges broken. That his hands were shaking so much it put an extra few seconds on the lock no one could fault him for. It would have been unfortunate if they'd had cold air and snow blowing in on them.

Inside with the door shut against the intolerable chill allowed Mathias the moment to consider how he'd likely been ready to die. He'd have to take stock of that later, much later, and not now, and likely talk to one of SI:7's medics about his mental state. Or - or he could push it off till later and then never do it and throw himself into work as soon as he got back to Boralus. Not that he had experience doing that, oh not at all.

Realizing he'd been standing in the middle of a one room cabin doing nothing but mentally snarking himself for his workaholic solutions to every problem for a few minutes now, he finally moved to help Flynn with the potbelly stove in the corner. While the entire cabin had a fine film of dust upon it's furnishings, the precut wood by the stove was dry and between the two of them they had a fire going soon. Luckily the pipe was clean and so they didn't end up smoked out either.

"Mathias," Flynn drew his attention, forcing him to realize he'd been standing there in front of the stove holding himself and shivering for an extended amount of time, "We need to get you out of your armor." He also noticed that Flynn had somehow shed his own soaked-through clothing without drawing attention to himself and was down to his skivvies and nothing else. He stares, numb and perhaps stupidly, unable to do anything but stand there, even as Flynn comes forward and carefully begins to undo the clasps of his pauldrons.

He's kickstarted by Flynn's touch and follows his lead, hands shaking. Remarkably Flynn isn't shaking nearly as badly as he is. "H-h-how-" Mathias tries and then gives up, until his teeth stop chattering he doesn't have the patience for himself.

"Shh, love," Flynn's voice is so soft and low, worried maybe, and caring, "Just let me take care of you."

Maybe if he'd been capable of it, he would have flushed but he was too frozen right now. He moves his limbs as Flynn instructs him to and soon enough his armor is discarded on the ground and Flynn is pulling him under the dusty covers of the cabin's single bed. With his head tucked under Flynn's chin and his body tangled up with the ex-pirates he found some relief finally. Flynn was not hot so much as he was luke-warm but even that slight temperature difference was beautiful, rapturous, intoxicating. Like a blast of holy light flooding through him and for a man of the shadows it was almost too much - almost, but delicious enough to curb that overwhelming sensory experience.

"I take it you've never fallen into a frozen over river." Flynn speaks against his hair and Mathias makes a hum in the negative not that it's very clear either way. "Didn't think so." Flynn added so he must have understood him anyway.

As the pain and shuddering slowly abates bone-deep exhaustion takes it's place. He doesn't realize he's fallen asleep until Flynn is moving from the bed to put more wood in the stove and easily drifts off once more when he's back in Flynn's arms.

#fairshawlidays #fairshaw #Mathias Shaw #flynn fairwind #look i made an attempt okay

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edendaphne · 4 years

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“Discordant Sonata”- Ch. 14

Sorry about the cliffhanger last chapter! (>////<) I hope you enjoy the continuation!

>>Read it here on Ao3<< >>Read it here on Wattpad<<

CHAPTER 14: RUBATO

Music glossary: Rubato (Italian: 'stolen/robbed') - Musical term for the elasticity of music, most often expressed in time, or rhythm. In essence, by 'stealing' time, or borrowing it, rubato allows the performer to achieve greater musical expression and freedom. The player may deviate from strict tempo regularity by stretching certain beats, measures, or phrases and compacting others, in a musically correct method of atonement.

(Mood Music: "One Man’s Dream" - Yanni)

Ladybug was falling. Her body felt like it was floating, yet she could see a myriad of objects zooming past her: buildings, vehicles, street signs, people, as if her world had been rotated ninety degrees and gravity was pulling her across the street instead of towards the earth. She dropped down (or was it sideways??), further into the blackness. Time seemed to have slowed down, although she couldn’t be sure. It was as if she were a stone that had been dropped into a vast ocean, its currents violently rushing past.

Where am I?

She looked up towards the only source of light, which dimmed more and more as she fell. When it was merely a speck, she wondered if she’d plunged into a complete, terrifying darkness, all alone. Was there no way out? Fear gripped her chest, and she struggled to hold in a whimper.

A sudden brightness blinded her and someone, or some thing, caught her, preventing her from falling any further. Panicking, she squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught of lights, and she struggled to wrest herself free. She squirmed and tried to shove the unknown entity away, but it was all in vain, as she was merely squeezed even tighter. The unknown force was simply too powerful to fight off in her confused and disoriented state, and although the grip wasn’t rough or painful, it was firm and unrelenting.

“Let me go!” she cried, still scrambling to get away. “Please, somebody help!!”

She felt someone’s face lower next to hers. “Easy, easy, it’s just me. You’re okay,” a deep voice cooed, their warm breath tickling her ear.

Her struggles ceased; she knew that voice.

“Chat…?”

Ladybug forced her eyes to focus, and they traveled up to meet his. She felt her body relax a bit as she looked into the familiar green glow. Could it really be him? How much of this situation was real?

“What happened? Is it really you? Am I… is this a dream?” she asked.

Chat Noir gave her a self-deprecating smile. “As much as I’d like to joke about being the man of your dreams, you’re actually awake right now.”

Ladybug quirked an eyebrow. Well... he certainly sounded like the real Chat.

She ignored the sudden heat in her face and asked, “Where are we? How did I get here?”

She felt Chat shrug as he held her, his face mirroring her own look of confusion. “It’s… I’m not exactly sure how to explain.” His eyes looked distant as he recounted what happened. “I saved the people from the vehicle that the akuma threw, and then started running back towards you guys. But I saw that she had you cornered, and I realized I wasn’t going to reach you in time. I was so scared. But then, like…” His face scrunched as he tried to articulate what happened, as if he were still trying to make sense of it himself. “Something stopped me. I got this feeling, this urge, that I needed to go inside this building. It seemed like a really stupid idea, but it’s like I couldn’t ignore it. So, against my better judgment, I followed it. Then when I was inside, I heard Plagg’s voice in my head. He said… ‘BLACK HOLE’.”

Ladybug blinked. Black Hole? Why did that sound so familiar…?

“So I repeated the words, and just like with Cataclysm, this... power activated in my hand; one I’ve never used before. And then it was like, somehow I knew what to do next. I put my hand on the wall and I focused, thinking about you and your location. I made a hole appear under you, and you fell through it. And then you landed here.”

Ladybug’s eyes grew wide. She realized that the power he was talking about had been briefly mentioned in Fu’s writings and records about other miraculouses, but no other details had been available.

“Chat, that–that’s remarkable,” she breathed. “You discovered a brand new power when it was needed the most… That’s amazing! Thank you.”

Chat looked away, cheeks reddening. “I-it was nothing. Just doing my job.” He cleared his throat, then nodded at the Lucky Charm in her hands. “S-so, uh... I noticed that you’ve got an interesting looking lightbulb there. Got any ideas?”

Oh. The Lucky Charm… she’d somehow managed to hold onto it during her odd trip through the black hole.

Right on cue, her earrings rang out their first beep.

She shook her head. “Not yet. But let’s go back outside so I can look around and see what we can use.”

“Good idea,” he replied with a fond smile, then seemed to be waiting for her so he could follow.

Her face felt warm again, and she added awkwardly, “Uhh… you’re gonna have to set me down first. I’m fine now, really.”

Chat’s eyebrows flew up, finally realizing that she was still nestled in his arms. “O-oh! Right! H-here you go,” he stammered, quickly setting her down onto the floor. They looked at each other, wringing their hands and chuckling awkwardly.

She turned and began to walk away when she felt him gently grab her arm.

“Wait,” he said, his expression turning forlorn. “I-uh… I wanted to apologize. For what my father said. He said a lot of really horrible things to you, and you don’t deserve any of it. He wasn’t always like… like that. I know he was just trying to turn us against each other, and I wanted to argue back, b-but it’s like I’d open my mouth and nothing would come out, and I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

She turned her body around to face him completely. Was he really apologizing for what had happened back there?? She had to consciously fight the urge to step forward and wrap her arms around him, as overzealous physical affection probably wasn’t what he needed right now. Especially not after what Hawkmoth said to him about her and her… motivations.

“Chat…You don’t have to apologize. The things Hawkmoth said, the things he does… you have no control over any of it; none of it is your fault. You’re not responsible for his words and actions. The man currently wearing the butterfly miraculous isn’t your father. He’s a villain, and extremely mentally disturbed. He’ll do and say anything to achieve what he wants.”

Chat looked away, his fists squeezing tightly. “B-but… what if he’s right, about some of it? Do you really need me? Would it be better for me to just hand you my miraculous so you could wish for him to go away, or wish for his miraculous back? I’m partly responsible so I should be the one to accept any consequences. Would I be more useful if I simply disappeared? Would it fix everything? Would it... save him and make him go back to normal?”

Ladybug felt her body stiffen and a sudden nausea settled in her gut.

Chat still loved his father. He wanted to save him.

She looked up at him, her determined eyes meeting his fearful ones. “Chat… don’t ever think for a second that things would be better off without you. Take a step back and look at the whole picture. You literally just discovered a new power, in the middle of battle, to save me from an akuma. That’s incredible!”

Chat’s cheeks flushed and he looked away, rubbing his arm shyly.

Ladybug continued, “If you don’t trust yourself yet, then trust me. I don’t need your miraculous.” She slowed down, emphasizing each word clearly. “I need YOU.”

“I…” he gaped at her, at a loss for words. A wave of emotions flickered through his face in quick sequence. Shock. Relief. Affection. Hope. Finally, he replied, “Th-thank you for saying that. You have no idea how much that means to me. And... I do trust you. It’s just… I just feel so powerless whenever he’s around, almost like I revert back into being a little kid, too afraid to talk back, too weak to act. Sometimes it feels like I’ll never escape him.”

Ladybug gulped and decided to chance stepping closer. She took his hands into hers, squeezing firmly, her eyes searching his to make sure her actions weren’t unwelcome.

“I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. But I assure you, you’re doing the right thing. It’ll take time for you to feel more confident around him, but I know you can do it. We can defeat him. YOU can defeat him. I believe in you, Chaton. I believe in us. The ladybug and cat miraculouses are back together where they belong, and as a team they can bring back balance. Together, our magic is greater than his. And I’ll do everything in my power to help you be free of that man.”

Chat bit his lip, gazing at her fondly, looking like he was moments away from tackling her with a hug. Instead, he shook his head with a dreamy sigh. “I don’t deserve you, My Lady.”

Ladybug ignored the heat that rose to her face, and booped him on the nose. “Stop saying that, you silly cat. You deserve every possible good thing to happen to you.”

Chat raised her hands to his lips and left a lingering kiss. “You’re already the best thing that’s ever happened to ‘Chat Noir’. Thank you,” he said softly.

“I–I...”Her breath caught slightly, the huskiness in Chat’s voice producing a pleasant tingle that traveled down her spine. “Y-you’re welcome,” she managed to stammer out.

“Also… I know this isn’t the time, but after we defeat this akuma, I’ll tell you everything about my mother. She’s the reason why we did everything. We were trying to save her. She’s… well, at first I thought she was sick, but things are more complicated than that. Anyway, I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

Because I really do trust you, and I need you to know that , his eyes seemed to say as they bore into hers.

She smiled at him. “If she’s anything like you, I’m sure she’s an amazing person.” Chat looked down at her, his emotions threatening to spill out at her words.

He was about to reply when his ring beeped out its first alarm, and they were startled apart.

Chat walked back to her with a smile. Linking his fingers between hers, he said, “Let’s do this, Bugaboo. We’ve got an akuma to take care of.”

(Mood Music: “Never Say No” - Abel Korzeniowski)

The pair peeked out from behind a wall, locating the akuma, who was still searching for them after Ladybug’s mysterious disappearance.

Ladybug whispered to Chat, “Do you have any idea where her akuma could be hiding?”

“I think it’s in her necklace. It lights up right before she uses her powers.”

Ladybug looked around, searching for more clues, as Chat stood behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders, keeping guard. All the streets and buildings were so dark, it was hard for her to see anything. Occasionally she would ask Chat to read out a sign or placard, taking advantage of his night vision. Squinting, Ladybug’s eyes landed on a certain building, and finally an idea planted itself into her brain.

“So… she sucks up all the light around her, like her own version of a black hole.” She brought out the small, polka dotted lightbulb, turning it with her fingers. “But what if we give her more light than she can handle?”

Chat noticed the building she was eyeing. “Got a plan?” he asked curiously.

“I think so. You think you can lure her into that shop?”

Chat stepped away with a cheerful salute. “Can do!”

“Great! Give me a minute or so to set everything up. Once you’re inside, follow my lead,” she instructed.

Chat winked at her. “Aye aye, partner! See you soon!”

A few well-timed puns and taunts later, Chat had the akuma exactly where he wanted her. He baited and goaded her into the building (which turned out to be a photography studio), as Ladybug had instructed.

Indoors, however, the tight quarters made it much more difficult to keep the akuma occupied and stay out of harm’s way. As they reached the middle of the studio, Chat backed up into a lone tripod and lost his footing. The akuma used the opportunity to strike him with an uppercut that landed him on the ground, disoriented.

“I guess I have to put you down first before I can take care of your Lady friend,” she said as she raised her blackened palm towards Chat, the pendant in the middle of her chest beginning to glow.

Before she fired, however, she heard Ladybug call, “Hey, Night Terror! Leave my Kitty alone and watch the birdie instead!”

The woman looked around in confusion to find the source of the voice, only to be met by a cacophony of camera clicks and dozens of rapidly flashing lights. Ladybug quickly replaced the flash lightbulbs with fresh ones to continue the onslaught of light, and Chat used the opportunity to knock the akuma over with his staff. The woman shielded her eyes helplessly as she fell with a sharp cry, and Chat yanked the necklace away from her. He flung it across the room to Ladybug, who threw it on the ground and stomped on it.

“Off you go, you pesky butterfly,” Ladybug grumbled as the purified akuma fluttered away. She called for the Miraculous Cure and tossed the polka dotted flash bulb into the air, and everything around them quickly went back to normal.

The former akumatized victim sat on the floor, massaging her temple with a light groan.

“Uggghhh, where am I?”

Chat Noir knelt down beside her and asked, “Are you alright, ma’am?”

The woman turned her head towards him, opening her mouth to answer, but shrieked upon recognizing who was speaking to her. “Chat Noir!! S-stay back! Wh-what do you want?!”

Chat’s expression fell and he raised his hands to show he meant no harm, backing away with a quiet apology.

Ladybug made her way towards them, clambering over the plethora of cables and photography equipment. She placed her hand on Chat’s shoulder and explained, “It’s okay, don’t be afraid. Chat Noir works with me now. He’s here to help. You were akumatized. Can you tell us the last thing you remember?”

The three made their way out of the building while the young woman prattled at length about a group project she’d been a part of for the past few weeks that had been making her life a living nightmare. Hours before the due date, one of the group members had revealed that they hadn’t completed any of the assignment, and everything else just fell apart. Ladybug and Chat groaned in understanding and solidarity.

“Group projects are the worst,” they all agreed.

Before they could offer to walk the akuma victim home, however, a barrage of video cameras and microphones was shoved in their faces, startling them back into the moment.

Reporters.

Lots of them.

Ladybug sensed Chat stiffen beside her in discomfort.

Then the bombardment of questions began.

“Ladybug! Are you and Chat Noir working together now?”

“Is this permanent or just a temporary alliance?”

Ladybug donned her professional interviewee persona and began the tedious task of clearing up some of the events that had happened recently.

“Chat Noir and I are now allies, and we’ll be fighting Hawkmoth as a team from now on,” she stated simply.

“Why has Chat Noir worked with Hawkmoth until now?”

Ladybug answered, “Hawkmoth has been controlling and blackmailing Chat Noir for the past few years, and he’s only recently managed to escape him. Hawkmoth is the true villain.”

An angrier voice clamored, “What are you going to do to keep your cat on a leash?! He can’t be trusted!”

“Will you be taking his miraculous away as punishment?”

“Did you find out Chat Noir’s identity and threaten him to help you?”

“Did you kidnap and brainwash him with your ladybug magic?”

Ladybug fought the urge to facepalm herself all the way to Mars. This was quickly spiraling out of control. “Ugh, wow. No, that is not how magic works. Unlike Hawkmoth, I’m not threatening him or coercing him.”

A familiar face popped up from behind another reporter. “Ladybug, are you and Chat Noir sleeping together?”

Chat flinched in horror, looking quite like he’d swallowed a fly, but Ladybug managed to answer with a straight face and stern voice, “That question is highly inappropriate and I won’t be answering it, Nadja .

Nadja Chamack didn’t seem to be phased by the fiery glare that Ladybug was sending in her direction; but before she could follow up with another invasive question, a friendly voice by a certain bespectacled novice reporter chimed in, “Mr. Noir! What brought about this change of heart?”

Ladybug bit back a reprimand about how Alya should really be home at this hour, and instead, stepped to the side to let Chat handle the question. She’d been wanting to shield him from all of this intrusive media attention, since he probably wasn’t used to all the unwarranted personal questions. But she also understood both the need for him to experience this, and the fact that he was perfectly capable of standing up to them on his own.

Chat replied somewhat timidly, “I… I guess I realized that he was going too far. I was trying to help a loved one, and he led me to believe that we needed the ladybug miraculous’ powers to save them. He told me that we were doing a good thing. But I didn’t realize just how much our actions would affect everyone else, until now. I’m truly sorry I’ve caused you all so much trouble these past few years.”

Someone in the back yelled, “Simply saying ‘Sorry’ isn’t gonna fix everything!”

Chat resisted the urge to shrink away. He replied, “I know it won’t. What I did was wrong. And there’s nothing I can do to change the past. But actions speak louder than words, so I’ll just have to prove myself to you. I promise that you have nothing to fear from me. I’m here by my own volition, not because Ladybug is forcing me. I truly want to make up for all the wrongs the people of Paris have had to suffer. From now on, I’ll do my best to atone by helping Ladybug protect the city, and we will bring Hawkmoth to justice.”

The multitude murmured and buzzed with equal parts uncertainty and interest, still trying to figure out the new hero.

A sharp trill broke through the air, and Ladybug had never been as grateful to hear her earrings beep as she was at this moment.

“We have to go. Will the police please escort this young lady home?” she asked, making eye contact with the police officers nearby, and they nodded in reply.

She motioned for Chat to follow, and they disappeared into the skyline together.

Before she and Chat parted ways themselves, however, he tugged on her sleeve to get her attention. She turned her body to face his, looking up into his concerned eyes.

“We don’t have much time; I’ve only got about ten more minutes left til I transform back,” he said. “But I think it’s finally time I tell you about my mom.”

----------------

Notes:

Chat Noir's "Black Hole" ability from this chapter was based on one of Chat's powers in the original PV version, as seen in the concept art below:

Next chapter: The first day of school! It's the last year before they graduate, and they'll be meeting up with some of their old friends and classmates.... Including a certain two-faced brunette with a penchant for lying >:3

#Discordant Sonata #Miraculous Ladybug #Ladynoir #Enemies AU #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Adrien Agreste #fanfiction #Eden writes

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tiffgeorgina · 4 years

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what did you think of the new episode???

OH LORD i had a lotttt of thoughts on this episode, understandably. CONTENT WARNING FOR DISCUSSIONS OF SUICIDE AT THE VERY BOTTOM OF THIS POST (it’s a long paragraph). also obviously spoiler warning for 2x08.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255

please reach out to somebody if you’re feeling distressed after this episode, or if you or a loved one is considering self harm or suicide. im always here if you need somebody to vent or talk to. i love you all and i would be devastated if anything happened to any of you.

anyways, episode discussion below:

-first of all, the corgina scene at the very beginning was PRICELESS. tiff and corkie had it DOWN until tiff lost her cool. i was DYING. casey wilson invented the word “fuck.”

-marcus/dawn and connie/mo double date. this whole scene had me CACKLING. marcus being such a comrade was not at all what i expected. the three-on-one connie smackdown i could not BREATHE. also includes classic moments such as “we’re doing black shit right now keith” and regina stealing every scene she’s in. also WOMEN xosha roquemore (connie) in dark lipstick is the best part of s2 prove me wrong

-also kind of out of order but dawn calling mo her best friend did not sit right... like in my soul. it’s like inherently wrong. so STRANGE to hear her say that.

-but connie sucks at being subtle lmfao dawn was not having any of that

-“i can’t vote. im a felon” just out of nowhere GOD. and the fact that that’s the first time dawn’s learning that mo went to prison is fucked up. i’ve never seen a woman want a man to shut up so badly, and i’ve never been so glad that said man did not shut up lmfao

-tiff and blair’s apartment looks so good yes god!! also this season keeps referencing blair’s parents and it’s kind of putting me on edge. especially since next episode is “blair [being] forced to revisit his past.” on another note, andrew’s voice in this scene is SO FUNNY. you can tell he’s a voice actor i think

-also like we knew blair was into older men but now we like know lmfao. the richard gere jokes had LAYERS these writers outsold

-ok blair&tiff’s relationship... yikes. i cannot tell what the writers want their relationship to be. are they unhealthy and toxic and bad to each other? or are they platonic soulmates and life partners? make up your MIND, showtime.

-DON’T INFANTILIZE THE CUP BYE KJDFHGDFKJ

-first blarris scene was TENSE. acting good

-the confirmation that roger has kids... i mean i suspected it from the moment tuc’s character was announced in september but it makes the ending so much more painful. i KNOW that’s the only reason why they pushed the fact that the harrises are parents in this episode, bc it was never confirmed earlier.

-i hate how funny michael hitchcock is. im trying to hate newell but im laughing. why are his lines so funny who wrote this.

-the sound design in this episode was a lot to take in. the music was intense asf and it stays intense throughout the whole ep

-keith cracking onto blair and trying to reconcile with him bc he’s feeling empathetic but blair shutting him down... can’t say keith doesn’t deserve it but i would’ve loved to have seen keith and blair just talk about being closeted and having affairs and shit.

-THE TRUMP CHILDREN LMFAOOOO they all look so smug the casting was great this ep

-mo shit talking connie TO HER FACE bc he knows connie can’t give up the act... fucking priceless i love to see it acab

-dawnroe physical contact hhhhh can you tell im rewatching this ep as i type this

-the wording on the “you’re with the FBI?” line is so perfect. bc it makes it totally sound like dawn’s onto mo and connie when really she’s just like “you’re siding with the FBI bitch?” highkey genius line

-posted this too early by accident oops. im still editing im not done yet lmfao

-MARCUS MO AND DAWN SAID ACAB FUCK YES

-ROGER GRABBING BLAIR’S HAND I AM ASCENDING. i knew about the hand holding scene there but i didn’t think roger would initiate it <3

-roger nearly kissing blair :’/

-LORD the trump children are little shits god

-daddy says it makes me look hot. you mean cute? ...no.

-oh GOD not this blarris scene. i like to believe that a gay person generally wouldn’t threaten to out another gay person on principle, but blair has shown how shitty of a person he's become all season. i hate it and it’s still ooc but i’ve seen worse on this show tbh.

-roger’s got a point, if he supports his campaign fund manager right off the bat, he’ll look like a total fraud and his career will be over. the fact that blair barely gives a shit really speaks to what his character has become. “fuck them” what a classic line

-ANDREW’S ACTING!!! his voice when he says “you use me” ugh i felt that in my chest. plus roger looking away after he says that... i mean god this cast is so talented

-blair snapping god. he’s got a point, he and roger have been dysfunctional asf all season. doesn’t justify threatening to out somebody AT ALL but finally hearing some emotion out of blair, a little bit of anger and frustration, it’s refreshing.

-does “who are you, blair?” count as a parallel to “who are you, pfaff?” from 1x01?

-blair outing roger to newell... yikes. again ooc and bad. blair’s a shitty guy but we’ve seen him have empathy before, even in s2. why would they make him do this i don’t get it.

-keith finding out about lenny is good. maybe something will finally come of this arc?

-parallel to 2x02 with blair mentioning his mom’s phrase, cool. probably gearing us up for more references to his parents next ep, culminating in a flashback to his childhood in 2x10.

-this scene where the trump kids are destroying everything is classic. you can genuinely tell that everybody there was having so much fun shooting that. idk, it’s nice.

-trump reveal HA what a great end to that scene

-keith coming by and fucking everything up... i mean i guess everybody KNOWS now. dawn/marcus is over (good) and dawn is probably right pissed at mo rn. but hey, fuck em all resurgence!!! ive been waiting for it and now it’s here!

-im scared, what’s connie gonna do? fuck cops

-“that’s a long way to go just to get a dig in” “it was a stretch but-” see what happens when you’re a narc? you lose your wit :/ sad! nice exit line from connie tho

-CW SUICIDE MENTION. ok time to talk about what definitely needs to be talked about. god this has had my chest hurting all day yesterday. i knew blarris would be outed eventually bc sho likes to milk every plot point for every bit of drama they can get out of it, but i did not expect roger to take his life. and blair finding him is just devastating. i said this on twt, but the fact that somebody could be so overwhelmed with internalized homophobia that being outed could cause them to commit suicide is so incredibly and deeply sad to me. i’ve been crying for a while over that fact.

im just. im really sad. i’ve connected so much with these characters over the past two-ish years and this is such a devastating turn of events. i have no words. it isn’t bad writing or ooc by any means, it’s just so extremely and incredibly sad. there are probably thousands of people who have been in roger’s exact position before, and the realism really hits me hard. i can’t put into words how overwhelming sad this makes me.

also pretty upset that this came as a COMPLETE shock to me and all my friends. we all watched on the sho streaming service, which did not have the “viewer discretion advised” card before the ep. the premier did, but the episode on the app did not. i really REALLY wish they had added that before i had seen the episode so i could prepare myself, even if just slightly. also wish they had added a suicide hotline number at the end.

seeing blair grieve his loss is going to hurt but it’s probably going to give us closure too. i think about this show all the time, and now thinking about it makes me so overwhelmingly sad. i sound dramatic but this show has been with me for so long. not being able to see much of blair’s reaction beside the initial shock has been haunting me. im so scared for what the future episodes are going to bring.

thank you for reading, i love you all <3

#suicide ment //#suicide #black monday #shoblackmonday #andrew rannells #slander #meta analysis #open mic night #anonymous

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