#and her mentor who’s tried to stand up for her but she lashes out at them in her frustration and they’ve quit putting up with it

[verdemoth]

oh ive got some art sitting around from a while ago i can post. friends and i are back in battlecat oc hell with our own little headworld clans, i can share my guys from it

so here’s Bitternpaw, apprentice of RustClan

Bittern here would be the angsty teen who’s part of the protag party and maybe gets some POV in the arc. Generally apprentices become warriors at around 14-16 moons of age, but at 17 1/2 moons old Bitten hasn’t gotten approval for eir final assessment. For this slight she blames:

1: The leader she grew up under, Lionstar, who only took interest in his son and neglected any duties that didn’t serve his own ego.

2: The current leader, that spoilt son Brindlestar, who despite being two moons younger that Bittern became leader through nepotism and his father’s death. Bittern has such a one sided rivalry with him. He barely notices her and she’s so fucking pissed. Seething.

3: Her parent in the clan, who decided coupling with a contentious warrior from an enemy clan was a good idea, as was only revealing their disloyalty in the midst of Bittern’s apprenticeship. Ey thinks perhaps Lionstar purposefully ‘forgot’ to give em a warrior ceremony, to shun and ostracize em much like eir peers did. Clan tension is quite high at this point of time, skirmishes and worse have been common for years.

Though Bitternpaw had never given a reason to doubt her loyalty (beyond flimsy blood relation), she’s growing quite disillusioned with RustClan. When a prophecy incites some apprentices from the three clans to venture out beyond their territories, Bittern chooses to go with them despite not receiving any call from StarClan. Ey’s older than the other paws and so finds herself taking responsibility like she’s an older sister to them.

[boltwrites]

@welcometochilis585 asked: I’m not sure if you write fluff but maybe something where Logan and the reader had been together, but because the team died in his universe he assumed reader died as well. They get reunited and reader runs up to him and gives him a hug. Wade is just standing there like what? Then he says something snarky/sarcastic, Logan threatens him, but it’s just fluff. Maybe before all of that we could have a look into their past, reader is a mutant too, maybe a human ouija board🤷🏻

A/N: i'm sorry bro but no, you didn't submit this right, lmao. it's ok i got you.

Also, I changed the mutant power to be a little bit more connected to the storyline - makes more sense that reader survived.

You thought you had died, when you woke up in the void. That's what Professor Xavier always said would happen, if you tried to use too much of your power. You always had some sort of connected with... another plane. You didn't know what it was, but you could pull things from it, send things in.

When you were younger, you thought it was the afterlife. So you sent in little trinkets, offerings. Food, drink - costume jewelry. Coins, when you wanted to make a wish. And sometimes, when you needed it most, you could reach in and find something you needed, too. A pencil, when you forgot one for your standardized test. Brass knuckles, when some punk tried to get handsy in the back alley of a club when you snuck out. Stuff like that.

But Charles - when you finally found him, when he gave you a job and promised to help you hone your power - he warned you of your gift. He told you that what you were connected to wasn't an afterlife, but some alternate dimension, outside of space and time. And that while you could exchange goods with it, trinkets and things - that you should never send a human there. That it would probably kill them.

Well, you were alive. At what cost, though?

At least you weren't dead, back at the school. Oh god, the school. You tried not to think about it. About what happened.

You had fond memories of that place. You'd think about those, instead.

The kids that opened up to you about unsafe homes. the ones that asked what it was like, to have a dangerous mutation. If it scared you, that you could hurt people with it. You loved them, those kids - the kids you helped to gently guide in the right direction.

You were careful, and kind. Somewhat shy. You stuck to your work.

Until you met Logan.

He was everything you weren't. Your peers - the others adults that worked with you - they had been raised by Xavier. They all had kind of a sameness about them. A similar work ethic, maybe, or set of morals. You always felt like an outsider around them, since he'd only recruited you as an adult.

Maybe that's why you clicked with Logan. Yes, he was reckless and wild and maybe a little selfish, but there was a freedom of thought he possessed that the others didn't. He didn't think the mansion was the pinnacle of mutantkind. He questioned things openly, he wasn't careful.

And most of all, he was good with the kids. The ones that came in late, the ones that came in angry. The ones that you tried to get through to, that you struggled with. He took them out to train or play catch or even just to talk, and then came back calm.

You tried not to fall for him. Knew it was stupid, knew he probably wouldn't be the kind of stable partner you wanted. But you couldn't really help it.

And, luckily for you - he liked you too.

You remembered your first kiss. It was stupid, silly - he'd come to talk to you about a kid - a kid that you tutored, mostly - who had been bothering a kid that had taken to him as a mentor. You knew exactly what was going on with the two of them - your child had bright red skin due to her mutation. She thought the boy that was trying to date her had to be playing a horrible prank on her. That he was mean and rude. So, she'd started lashing out at him.

Logan had confronted you, snapped at you about the situation. And, as you talked about it - the conversation shifted from a hypothetical about two mutant kids, to the very real fact that the two of you were inches apart, your fingers fluttering near his collar.

So, he'd kissed you. Deep, sweet, passionate -

He hadn't been there. When it happened. You couldn't save anyone else. Just yourself.

And now you were here trying to survive with a weird little band of mutants and heroes. And your heart ached whenever you saw Laura fight. It hurt.

It hurt. And it still hurts. It still hurts, when you see him. Because when he sees you, his eyes blow wide in disbelief. He's halfway down a bottle and you know he's yours. You know that's the man who used to laugh and twirl you around the kitchen when all the kids had gone to sleep. You knew he'd broken himself after it all.

And you didn't care.

"Logan!-" you cried it out - tried to quell the tears in your eyes as you sprinted to him, threw yourself into those arms. You knew he would catch you - the crash of the liquor and Gambit's exasperated shout were barely audible as you threw your arms around his shoulders. And when he wrapped his around you - softly, tentatively - you knew. You knew it was him. Not just any Wolverine - your Logan.

"Hello? Did I miss some important exposition somewhere? If I did, it's definitely your fault-" the Deadpool Logan was with gestured towards Gambit, who looked like he might fling at card at the man just for being in the periphery of his liquor explosion.

You didn't care. You pulled back, smiling up at him. He looked shocked - brow knitted in the cutest little bit of wonder. "How-?"

"OK, no exposition! Fine, whatever! I'll just improv, I fucking guess!" The Deadpool threw his hands up. "How's this - if claws over here didn't have whiskey dick of the penis-"

Logan fucking growls at him, with a single, firm "don't."

The Deadpool ignores him, of course, and continues on with a "-you could take your plot-relevant princess here back to your royal carriage - that's the Honda Odyssey - and make little void babies!"

You can feel Logan's bicep tense - like he's going to pull the claws on this guy - and you press your hand to his cheek, shaking your head.

"He's a Deadpool, babe. He's not worth it."

"Fuck, I've missed you."

[bird-inacage]

Arcane S2 Act 1: Caitlyn's Arc (The Call of Revenge)

This is not my usual corner of tumblr, but I adore Arcane and I wanted to air out my thoughts on Act 1. There's understandably a lot of contentious commentary surrounding Caitlyn's 'villain uprising'.

As Mel points out, "she hides it admirably, but the poor girl's in so much pain". Caitlyn is by all definitions a loose cannon right now. She's clearly not in a sound nor stable state of mind. She's plagued by immense levels of grief, anger and hatred, that have her possessed and consumed. She's tried to put on a brave face but she's lashing out. She's raw. She fantasises about killing Jinx. Revenge is rarely ever rational or fair. It's emotionally charged and can often veer into madness.

During their fight with Jinx, all that comes to a head. In the heat of the moment, Caitlyn completely loses all her rationale, any dregs of compassion we knew from S1 swiftly go out the window. She must kill Jinx, no matter what. When people lose something dear, revenge can become their sole motivation, the only thing giving them purpose and a reason to keep going or to even stay alive. When a war suddenly takes away one of your loved ones, it becomes personal and very real. Up until that point, you can take a more diplomatic approach. A more idealistic stance. That is, until you've become a direct victim of the situation.

There was always a degree of sheltered naivete we saw with Caitlyn in S1, which clashed with Vi's more jaded (or grounded) sense of reality. And now Caitlyn's experiencing that for herself. Those feelings are currently at their most heightened, most potent and therefore; most dangerous. Luckily Vi had Vander to guide her when she tragically lost her parents, but there's no one to steer and influence Caitlyn when she's now at her most vulnerable and volatile.

Vi is wrapped up in the centre of said conflict and is still processing a lifetime of grief herself. Jayce is pre-occupied with Viktor. Mel has disappeared. Her mother is dead. Her father is paralysed by grief. There is no Grayson or equivalent to lead the enforcers. She doesn't have a mentor figure to consult or look to for guidance, who has her best interests at hand. "I don't know how, okay?!"

Ambessa seeks to exploit Caitlyn as a figurehead to aid her own objectives, precisely because she's in the perfect position to be easily manipulated and weaponised. "Come child", is a stark reminder that essentially Caitlyn is still a child. A child whose lost their mother and lost their way and now stands in the middle of a political hailstorm. So when Ambessa offers out her hand, it's no surprise Caitlyn takes it.

In my opinion, attempting to distill Caitlyn's actions as categorically right or wrong is a huge disservice to the complexities of the situation and the story. No one sets out to be the villain of their own narrative. We feel justified in what we do, because of who we are and what we've gone through. In our own minds, our actions make sense to us. And quite frankly, no one is immune to that.

[cariantha]

Talk is Cheap (1/2)

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Warning: Mentions of pregnancy Category: AU; Angst (with a happy ending) Word count: 1.5K Prompt: What would have been the outcome if Sawyer had discovered that she was pregnant whilst Ethan was in the Amazon? A/N: The theme song for this fic is “Go Get Her” by Restless Road. Part 1 of this AU follows my HC for E&S up until the unexpected event at the end. Part 2 will be posted in a couple days.

After Ethan rescinded his resignation from Edenbrook, he and Sawyer agreed to keep some distance until she was no longer an intern and he was no longer her boss. But that was easier said than done. Having crossed the line, they found it impossible to go back to their respective sides. They were able to keep up appearances at work, but after hours they spent their time together in Ethan’s apartment, hiding from the world.

Ethan was quick to share the exciting news with Sawyer as soon as he received the offer. He told her that he had been invited to join a team organized by the World Health Organization. The carefully selected team would be traveling to an indigenous village in the Amazon. They hoped to prevent the further spread of an unknown virus and provide much-needed medical care.

Sawyer had mixed feelings. She knew this was something he had always wanted to do, and she outwardly supported and encouraged his upcoming adventure. But inwardly, now that they were finally together, she selfishly wanted him to stay.

When Naveen announced Ethan as his replacement and appointed Sawyer to the diagnostics team, Ethan promised her that they would “figure it out.” Sawyer had no reason to believe otherwise. To date, they had successfully kept their secret under wraps. It wasn’t ideal, but if it meant they could continue to be together, why fix what wasn’t broken?

All too soon, the time came for them to say goodbye. Standing in his doorway, Ethan framed Sawyer’s face between his hands. He studied her face, committing her features to memory, before planting a final kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you in a couple months.” 

“Will you check in once you’re there and settled?” Sawyer asked hopefully.

Ethan gave a nod, then watched as Sawyer flashed a sad but affectionate smile before walking away.

<><><><><><><><><><>

After a week with no contact, Sawyer tried to call him. No answer. She followed up a few days later with a text message. No reply. Two weeks had passed without a single acknowledgment from Ethan. 

She gave him the benefit of doubt. He was in the jungle after all, and maybe communication with the outside world was a challenge. But as more days passed, she started to wonder if something had happened. Something that would make him shut everyone out, again. Like the time he thought he failed his mentor and quit his job.

With just a couple hours left of her shift one afternoon, Sawyer stepped onto the elevator to find Naveen dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief. “Hey there, are you feeling okay?” she asked. Given his recent medical ordeal, she was immediately concerned.

“I’m fine, dear. Not to worry. I just came from outside.”

Acknowledging the unseasonably warm weather, Sawyer commiserated, “Being from Arizona, I can take the heat. But the humidity? Ugh. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.” 

“It can be downright uncomfortable. Though Ethan would probably welcome it given the climate where he's currently stationed. Poor fellow. His shirt has been completely soaked both times I’ve spoken to him.” 

Sawyer felt a sudden stabbing pain in the center of her chest. Her heart slowly bleeding out, she tried to maintain her composure. “You… you’ve spoken with him?” 

Naveen, who was once the nation’s leading diagnostician, knew immediately from the change in her tone and body language that something was amiss.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened to the fifth floor. Emotions betraying her, Sawyer swept a finger along her lower lashes to catch the tears that threatened to spill. It didn’t go unnoticed. 

Naveen quickly pressed the button to close the elevator doors. “I have some tissues in my office,” he offered, reaching out to give her hand a quick squeeze. When the doors opened again, this time to the seventh floor, the chief led his personal lifesaver to his office. Once they were seated, he pushed a box of tissues toward her and asked, “When was the last time you spoke with him?”

“The night before he left town.” She told him that she had tried to call and text, but Ethan hadn’t responded. “I-I don’t understand. Things were good… we were good.”

Naveen offered consolation, sharing his disappointment in the man who had become like a son to him. “I’m sorry, Sawyer. He’s an idiot. Plain and simple. I can offer no other excuse for his behavior.”

Despite her heartbreak, she couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at his candor, grateful for the validation.

“I have heard the way he speaks about you. Seen the way he acts around you. He lights up! Do you know how rare that is? You are special to him, Sawyer,” he reassured. Then with a sigh, "One thing I've learned about Ethan is that he feels deeply, and when those feelings become overwhelming, he shuts down. If I had to hazard a guess, that's the reason he has ghosted you."

She nodded, processing the information. “I love that you know what ‘ghosting’ is,” she said with an appreciative smile. Not wanting to take up any more of his time, Sawyer stood to leave. “Thank you, Naveen. I should get back to my patients.” 

A couple minutes later, as if summoned by the universe, Ethan’s name and picture appeared on Naveen’s vibrating phone. “Were your ears ringing just now?” Naveen answered.

His protégé furrowed his brow. "Why would they be?"

“I just had a chat with the newest member of the diagnostics team. You remember Sawyer, of course?”

Ethan huffed and shook his head in frustration. 

With parent-like disappointment in his tone, Naveen asked, “What are you doing, son?”

Like an annoyed teenager, Ethan looked away from the camera. Whatever was or was not happening between him and Sawyer was none of Naveen’s business. Part of him blamed Naveen for putting them into this situation in the first place. As he gazed into the distance, carefully considering his response, Ethan missed when Naveen’s attention was momentarily diverted by a gentle rap on the door. 

Sawyer poked her head in and pointed to the desk. “Sorry, I forgot my pager,” she mouthed.

Naveen gestured for her to come in.

“How is she?”

Sawyer froze when she heard the familiar voice, her terrified eyes flicking up to Naveen’s. 

Looking back down at his phone screen, Naveen countered, “Why don’t you ask her yourself?” 

“What?” The view in Ethan’s hand blurred before finally coming into focus on Sawyer’s equally panicked expression.

The lovers-turned-strangers stared at each other for an awkward moment until Ethan finally broke the silence. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she reciprocated, voice steady despite the thundering in her chest.

Naveen handed his phone to Sawyer. “Why don’t you kids catch up? I need to check in with my assistant before she leaves for the day.”

Reluctantly taking the phone, she watched Naveen retreat. Only after the door clicked shut did she turn her attention back to the now guilt-ridden face on the screen.

"How have you been?" he asked with trepidation.

Sawyer shook her head defiantly. She didn’t care about pleasantries. She wanted answers. Fighting back the tears that she had just gotten under control, she cut to the chase.

“I thought you and I… I thought we meant something to each other… I thought we were together,” she fumbled for the right words.

“We were.”

“We were? Past tense?” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Did I do something wrong? Something to upset you?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Sawyer.”

“Is there someone else?”

“No,” he said firmly with a shake of his head. “No.”

“Then why, Ethan?” she pleaded for understanding.

“For the same reasons I stopped things in Miami. I can’t be–if I am–your career is–and you mean too–”

The connection became unstable, with Sawyer only able to catch every few words that he spoke. “You keep cutting out… Ethan, you’re breaking up–” The screen suddenly turned black and the call ended. “You’re breaking up..." she repeated, the double-meaning not lost on her, “with me.” 

Falling into a chair, Sawyer covered her mouth, muting the quiet sob that she could no longer contain. “God, I’m so stupid.” After a couple minutes, she sniffed back her tears and composed herself. Cracking the door open, she found Naveen with his hip perched on his assistant’s desk. 

He couldn’t help but notice her reddened, blotchy cheeks. His questioning eyes met her bloodshot, swollen ones. Sawyer answered with a shake of her head, handed him his phone, then turned and briskly walked away.

<><><><><><><><><><>

A month later, Sawyer sat on a paper-lined exam table chewing on her thumbnail, waiting for the doctor to enter.

Knock, knock. A slightly older woman dressed in pink scrubs entered the room. “Hi Sawyer, I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Dr. Moore.”

“Hi,” Sawyer greeted. Not usually one to shy away from small talk, her anxiety made the task seem impossible.

Dr. Moore sat down on a low stool, wheeling closer to Sawyer with a tablet in hand. “I have your test results. Your pregnancy test is positive.” As the doctor spoke of conception and due dates, and suggested a quick ultrasound to confirm, a single tear fell from the corner of Sawyer’s eye.

Part Two

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @potionsprefect @jamespotterthefirst @annfg8 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @jerzwriter @quixoticdreamer16 @mysticalgalaxysstuff @inlocusmads @txemrn @trappedinfanfiction @mvalentine @takemyopenheart @openheartforeverinmyheart @coffeeheartaddict2 @genevievemd @starrystarrytrouble @hopelessromantic1352 @kyra75 @lsvdw-blog @rookiemartin @headoverheelsforramsey @zealouscanonindeer

[stheresya]

The heroines of both The Grisha Trilogy and The Red Shoes (1948) respectively kinda share the same conflict, despite the stories being set in very different universes with its own circumstances. One is a story set in a 19th century russian-esque fantasy world, the other is set in the ballet world of 1940s UK. Both stories feature female characters who have a special skill/ability which is deemed an essence of their very being, who then become entangled with a scheming older man that elevates their abilities to its full potential, but meanwhile these girls also fall in love with a seemingly good guy, a love that inevitably prunes their abilities. And so they must decide between having love but devoid of their essence, or exploring their essence to its full potential but without love.

“It isn’t something separate from you,” Baghra snapped. “[…] Do you ask your heart to beat or your lungs to breathe? Your power serves you because that is its purpose, because it cannot help but serve you.” (Ch. 13, Shadow and Bone)

- Why do you want to dance? - Why do you want to live? - I don't know exactly why but… I must. - That's my answer too. (The Red Shoes)

What differentiates the stories, other than the environment where they're set, is how each of them deal with this conflict. In TGT this conflict is felt most by the reader than by the heroine herself. The paths that are presented to Alina are embodied by her childhood sweetheart and an older powerful man who ignites her in various ways, both men form a love triangle with Alina where they compete for her, even if each man wants her for very different purposes. Alina knows this but she refuses to grapple with a decision, she already know head-on that Mal is the one, and she mostly just tries to navigate both of these contradictory aspects: the grisha/saint identity as well as her normie boyfriend, despite being constantly warned that this would not be a feasible on the long run.

But in TRS, however, the conflict is deeply felt by the main character as well as the viewer. Also, and this is very important, there isn't really a love triangle in the movie. The main character is divided between her boyfriend and her mentor, who doesn't seem to harbor genuine romantic feelings for Vicky even though he still feels something that borders on obsession for her due to her talent (some people, like myself, interpret this as his own twisted form of romantic love, but I'm going here with what's clearly shown in the movie). The mentor is a bit similar to the Darkling personality-wise. He is a man who has renounced love altogether and lives solely for his job (or as he calls it: his "religion", which is ballet), and he expects his prima-ballerinas to do the same. So when he learns that Vicky has fallen in love with his composer he goes mad and lashes out on both of them, which causes Vicky to readily stand by her boyfriend. But of course things don't stop there as she constantly second-guessing her decision, even when her man tries to deliver on the happiness that he's promised her. The movie is constantly asking us: is it fair to give up your dreams for the sake of love? can you truly be fulfilled in your dream when you have no love?

But why am I making these connections? I suppose because watching this movie made me realize that these sorts of conflicts can never really lead to a happy ending. It's the perfect conflict for a tragedy. I guess one can write an ending where the conflict is resolved by just having the character be allowed to have both. But in my opinion it feels a disingenuous and coward choice to just take the conflict away, without having to face it.

And that's why both The Grisha Trilogy and The Red Shoes end in tragedy. The difference is that the latter is honest in its tragedy, while the former tries to paint the situation as... not exactly happy, but still hopeful, maybe bittersweet, but ultimately ok. It's ok because it was "fair", it was punishment for her "greediness" (she wasn't greedy). Another thing that I think The Red Shoes does better is allowing for the heroine choose. The ending of the movie, albeit sad, is entirely Vicky's choice. The Grisha trilogy doesn't go that way. Instead it does the RS equivalent of having Alina suffer a permanent injury that makes her unable to go on pointe, thus killing her career as a ballet dancer, and then Alina has to settle with her boyfriend after all, living as a shell of herself where she not longer has her essence, and she's not even allowed her own name anymore. But it's ok! she has her (unsupportive) man with her!

So long story short, there is no possible scenario where Alina could've had a happy ending. But we as readers could've a more fulfilling end if only the story were more honest about the ending it was writing. Alina died in every way except physically. It's not a happy ending in any way.

[sillyandquiteawkward]

notes and headcanons on this comic :3

makes me ill thinking about anya checking up on swansea the multiple times she catches him as he stops breathing in the middle of the night, especially when i imagine you can hear his snores echo similarity to curlys moaning and wheezing.

also yeah swanseas the only one mentioned to snore so sleep apnea be upon ye. ding. he has a cpap in his quarters, but thats blocked off so hes pretty sleep deprived. he sleeps sitting up near utility. doesnt help much.

on the note of curly, he's quiet right now, but anya and swansea will be up talking long enough for his meds to wear off and wake jimmy up.

anyas comment of you have to remember who you sleep next to is obviously a comment on both swanseas kids not being quiet around their sleeping parents, but also about how she sleeps next to jimmy, why shes constantly on edge standing right next to him, stuck in the same four rooms as him. another reason why shes quick to wake up and wander.

swansea wants to tell anya about the pod in secret from the others, but he doesn't know what anya wants to talk about, just that they both want to talk. he saw anyas sticking around with things on her mind as an invitation for them to have a deeper conversation, and anya was ready to reciprocate.

anya doesnt know what swansea wants to talk about, and it fills her head with does he know what jimmy did to me? thoughts, especially after the daddy comment sent a chill down her spine (however swansea said that in reference to him and his idea of jimmy being selfish enough to sabotage others for the pod). anya will be the first to confess whats on her mind, taking up most of their conversation, and swansea will tail end the conversation with his pod concerns by the time jimmy comes in.

i think anya telling swansea of her pregnancy and what jimmy did to her leads to swanseas image of jimmy not changing very much due to swanseas already poor view of jimmy, but he does show sympathy towards her. swansea also doesnt act on this information as hes unsure how bad this will disrupt his situation. if he lets jimmy know what anya told him, he might lash out, and if swansea attacks first, then he has to deal with having that on his conscious while he drinks himself to death. swanseas ready to die on the ship, but he doesnt want to actually think about how shit the situation is. things have been fine in the aftermath so far. lets not mess with it. kind of vibes.

i think anya sees swansea as a father/mentor figure as well as a friend (as much as an older coworker can be), as hes about the age of her parents, so confiding in him gives her some relief, however the anxiety of telling a man what happened and nothing happening again (or worse, the possibility of being the cause of "curly" crashing the ship. that also has to weigh heavily on anyas mind. she often wonders why he did it and if it was her fault.) and that thought strikes fear and doubt into her. i can imagine what she tells swansea to be slightly...sanitized. shes so afraid of being the problem that she tries to make it seem like not a big deal. so swansea also believes that it isnt as big of a big deal.

anya had a few sleepovers as a little girl, but she laments missing out on them bc she wanted to have more of them, following the blueprints of movies and shows. i think anya really wanted those stay up late truth or dare, gushing about your crush, kissing your friends, sneaking out, type sleepovers, however the kinds she had were less storybook and more mundane. maybe she wasnt able to fulfill some of those desires and that leads her to classify herself as missing out on them. and now this is her last chance to indulge in the fantasy.

swansea has had sleepovers as a boy, but he won't say that bc he thinks its childish. but also, because anya seems to be sad that she missed out on having them or that she cant have more (he cant tell), he doesn't find it important to bring it up. hold my hand anya let's have a slumber party at the end of the world.

fuck yeah i wanna slumby party

[valleykarate]

❝ i expected you to have my back.  ❞ deanna

deanna stands in front of robby just outside the cobra kai dojo, tory gives a subtle signal to nova, sav, stef & scarlett to follow after her (& casting a glance over her shoulder at robby for a moment before the five girls head towards nova’s car). it’s as if cobra kai has finally found its king cobra to complement the queen cobra. she can’t help but see echoes of johnny in him—the anger, the defiance, the deep hurt hidden under a hardened mask. she’s seen this before, so many times in johnny, who’d spent years lashing out at the world, trying to make up for things he couldn’t fix in himself. in kevin, who’d struggled to let go of the past & the intensity of cobra kai even after their kids were born, but who did his best to heal with time & support.

& now, seeing robby like this, caught in the same cycle, it breaks something inside her.

but something else weighs heavily on her heart: ethan’s absence. the void he left in her son’s life, the way his disappearance had left a jagged wound in her family, feels like a constant ache. she thinks of how ethan had once been there, laughing, joking, filling their home with warmth. but now he’s missing, & the silence is deafening. robby has to feel it too, that absence. or at least, deanna hopes he does. they all do.

she thinks of all the times johnny has failed robby, of all the missed birthdays, the broken promises, the nights robby has spent waiting for a father who never shows up. deanna’s been there to witness some of it herself, especially in the early days, when johnny was still suffocating under the weight of an all valley tournament loss by his karate rival, the abuse under kreese. she remembers the hopeful look in his eyes when he said he’d be there for robby—only to watch him stumble over his own mistakes & promises, never following through.

each time, she silently hoped that maybe, somehow, johnny would turn things around, that he’ll finally understand what his son needs from him. but the disappointments just keep coming. robby’s face fell when yet another promise goes unmet, another soccer game johnny never showed up to, or when johnny was around robby, he was barely sober, stumbling over apologies that mean nothing to a kid who’s heard them all before, to the people who have gotten desensitized to the screw ups, but couldn’t help being disappointed a little more each time.

& it’s not just that. deanna’s always been there to pick up the pieces as much as possible. she’s tried to be a buffer for robby, stepping in when johnny couldn’t—offering him comfort, support, guidance, some of that tough love she’s known for, at least compared to her husbands’ softer, more empathetic approaches during his & jaime’s childhoods. but the problem’s never just johnny’s mistakes. it’s the way those mistakes make robby feel: abandoned, unimportant, like he doesn’t matter.

deanna can still see the pain in robby’s eyes when he waited for johnny to come through both in childhood & during the juvie visit, only to have him let him down again. it’s eaten away at robby’s trust, twisted his view of himself & the world. she understands why robby’s built walls to protect himself from more hurt, but she also sees the damage those walls have done. johnny’s left so many scars on robby, scars that can’t just be patched up with a few half-hearted attempts at reconciliation. & when robby’s needed him the most, during his time in juvie & after getting out, after feeling cast out—johnny hasn’t been there. instead, he’s chosen miguel, chosen to mentor someone else’s son, while his own’s left to fend for himself.

she can’t shake the feeling of betrayal she’s carried for years, even when she tries to rationalize johnny’s actions. he’s failed his son over & over, & it’s hard not to feel angry on robby’s behalf. she remembers the moments when she’s stood by, watching johnny struggle, watching him fail his son repeatedly, all the while knowing robby needs him the most. & the worst part is, johnny never seems to fully realize the weight of his neglect, never fully grasps how much damage he’s caused. she’s tried to intervene, offer robby the support he needs, but after all these years, she knows he’s learned not to trust easily anymore. & who could blame him? everyone he’s ever counted on has let him down.

it’s no surprise to deanna that robby had gravitated toward cobra kai, toward a place that offers power & control in exchange for his pain & his sense of self. & even though deanna hates seeing him there, but she can’t help but understand why. he’s just trying to hold onto something, anything, that makes him feel like he matters.

“robby,” deanna begins, her voice soft, layered with all the years of frustration & sorrow she’s felt for both him & johnny. “i know you feel like everyone’s given up on you. & most of that is because of johnny.” her tone is blunt as she adds: “he should’ve been there, & he wasn’t, time & again. he failed you, & it wasn’t fair. but this isn’t you. you’re not johnny. you don’t have to carry the weight of his mistakes. you don’t have to become the person he was to prove something to the world—someone so wrapped up in his own pain that he doesn’t see what it’s doing to the people who love him.”

“i expected you to have my back,” @taughtpain says suddenly.

the accusation stings more than deanna wants to admit. she softens, her voice losing its usual edge. “robby… i do have your back. i wouldn’t be here trying to talk to you if i wasn’t. but you’re making choices that… god, i wish you could see what this place is doing to you. this anger, it’s just feeding into more anger. you’re so much more than that. you’re better than what cobra kai is trying to turn you into.”

“& i know johnny wasn’t there for you—he failed you, over & over, & i’m sorry for that. but don’t let his failures define who you are. don’t let them push you further into a place that doesn’t care about you.” even if it’s starting to happen now.

she pauses, her gaze softening but firm. “feeling helpless or choosing a different path isn’t a weakness, robby,” she says gently, her voice steady & full of compassion. “it’s a part of life. it’s something you don’t have to face alone. seth’s out there, risking his own safety, looking for ethan because he cares about him. & chase is worried about all three of you, scared you’re going to end up hating each other over all this.” even if she knows that her son is pissed at robby right now, she hopes that with time, they can reconcile. she pauses again, her tone sharp with conviction, & her gaze sharpens again. “but are you really okay with this? with hurting everyone around you who has already proven they care about you?”

[brrahbrrahcharacterimagines]

Sensei (Jiraiya x reader) SMUT

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Jiraiya x Reader

Word Count: 2580

Warnings: Masturbation (female), cum, oral (male receiving), dirty sex, sensei kink?, praise kink

A/N: I'm not even sorry

Starting your ninja training older than everyone else meant you always felt like you were behind. While all the other students became chunin in their mid-teens, you were 18 before you even took the exam.

That being said, you were older than most of your sensei's previous students.

It didn't used to bother you as much as it did now. Sure, you were sad before that you felt as if you were falling behind the other students. However, now you were worried for another reason. You were worried that Jiraiya saw you as a kid.

He was used to having young students, and he saw them in many ways as his children. You assumed he had the same kind of relationship with you, despite your age. This was fine at first, but the more time you spent with your sensei the more you wanted him to see you differently.

For your part, you had begun seeing him differently already. You took notice of his broad chest, his strong arms. He was trying to teach you a new justu, showing you better form.

Jiraiya was pressed against your back, his arms around your own so he could move your hands to the correct position. His hot breath fanned against your neck, making a chill run up your spine. To him it was no more than teaching a student, but for you it was the moment you began to see him as more than your teacher. Feeling his strong chest pressed up against you ignited a fire inside of you, one that still had not dimmed.

After that day, everything about the way you saw your sensei changed. Previously you hadn't cared much for the way the "Pervy Sage" chased women. You only cared about it in relation to your training, annoyed when you were unable to find your sensei. Now you found yourself jealous when he slunk off to bars or brothels alone, feeling as if he had chosen the option of being with other women over being with you.

You knew these women meant nothing to him, and many didn't even reciprocate his advances. Even so, there was already another woman that actually did mean something to him: Tsunade.

There was no way you could compete with her. She was another of the legendary Sannin, having trained with Jiraiya when they were young. Not only was she admirable for her strength, but she had also spent many years forming a bond with Jiraiya that you felt you could never attain. You knew how he felt about her, and despite the feelings being unrequited it hurt you more deeply than you would ever want to admit to him.

-

Tonight was nothing special. Another night, another village you would spend the night alone in. Jiraiya was already off for the night, no doubt to "gather intel" for his newest Icha Icha book.

You sighed, laying back on your bed in the room you had rented for the night. Your heart ached a little as you looked to the other bed in the room, one that would most likely stay empty tonight as Jiraiya found a bed elsewhere.

Giving up on feeling sorry for yourself, you looked around the room for something to do. You didn't feel like training, having already gone at it all day. You'd already eaten too, crossing that option off your mental list as well. It was times like this that you wish you had a hobby to bring on the road with you.

Glancing back over at Jiraiya's empty bed, something caught your eye. It was his newest publication, another of the Icha Icha series. You had to admit, something about the series had always intrigued you. Before you had always been too shy to pick up a copy, worried about what others might think of you. It's not like you had to worry about Jiraiya coming back tonight when he would be so busy.

You snatched the copy off his bed, flipping it open. The first few pages weren't bad, simply two characters going about their day together. However, it was only a couple more pages in when the characters made it back home and shut the door behind them.

It was filthy.

You had known the kind of content in these books, and had known the type of man that Jiraiya was. He wasn't one to tiptoe around a dirty word, but you had no idea just how dirty he could be in his writing. You read on.

He reached his hands up her blouse, taking a delicate, hardening nipple in each hand. A cry of his name escaped her hips as he began to gently rub circles around them, smirking at her reaction.

As you read the words on the page, you could feel yourself becoming more and more aroused as each word went by. You could almost feel Jiraiya's hands on your body, copying the movements of the characters.

You felt a flash of heat through your body, down towards your womanhood. Without feeling them you already knew your panties would be soaked. Knowing it was Jiraiya who had wrote this was making your mind run wild, imagining he were doing all of these things to you.

You continued reading, moving the book to your non-dominate hand so the other could crawl up your shirt. You grabbed your boob in your own hand, reading on. You flicked a finger across one of your nipples, relishing in the feeling of how hard it already was. You stifled a gasp at the touch, feeling dirty. The situation was giving you a rush, and it was turning you on more than you had been in a long time.

You couldn't stop reading, as if you were possessed. All you could do was read page after page, the actions escalating.

She undid his pants, puling them down to let his hard cock spring free. All she wanted was to take it into her mouth, and she did. Swirling her tongue around the sensitive tip she tasted his precum, only urging her to continue.

You pictured the scene in your head, imagining what it would be like to take Jiraiya into your mouth that way. Imagining it only made you more turned on, thinking about looking up at him through your lashes as he bucked his hips towards you, fucking your mouth.

He lined himself up at her entrance, holding back from slamming into her wetness. He slid his cock along her folds, teasing her until she begged for it to be inside of her.

You moved your own hand down into your panties, soaked just as you had expected. Your body lit up as you reached for your clit, rubbing small circles around the sensitive bud. A soft moan came from your throat, only making you wish Jiraiya were the one to ease it out of you.

You moved your fingers further downward, rubbing along the outside of your pussy. Lost in the moment, you didn't even hear the door creak open.

-

It had been a long night for Jiraiya, and a lonely one at that. Any girl he tried to flirt with denied his advances, and he hadn't even gotten any intel on the mission out of it. He decided to call it a night, walking back to the room he had rented for the two of you.

He expected you to already be asleep, as you usually were on the nights he returned. However, as he reached the door he heard more than snoring coming from the room. At first, he thought he had remembered the room number incorrectly.

For a moment, Jiraiya stood outside. Was there a man in there with you? He decided to peek inside, wanting to see if he needed to go and get his own room for the night.

Opening the door, his eyes went straight to you. He felt his eyes widen so large he was afraid they would pop out of his head. You were laying on your bed in only your panties, and from the sounds in the room he could tell they were already soaked through. Your breasts were on full display, making him wonder why he didn't look at them more often. In fact, he began to wonder why he didn't look at you as a whole more often. He was no stranger to finding younger, though of-age, women attractive, but something about being your mentor had made him block you off in his mind.

Now, as his eyes darted from your breasts to your pussy in an attempt to take it all in, he was mad at himself for not letting himself be attracted to you sooner.

Then he noticed your other hand. In it was a copy of his latest novel, and based on how many pages were left you had just gotten to the good part.

His dick had already begun to press on his pants from the sight of you, but now he knew what had made you feel this way.

It was him.

"Glad to see you enjoy my writing," he said cockily.

-

"Glad to see you enjoy my writing," you heard . Your hand froze in place as your eyes flashed to the doorway. To your horror you saw Jiraiya standing there. How much had he seen?

You shrieked, grabbing the blanket at your feet so you could pull it over your exposed body.

"Easy, it's not like I haven't already seen it now." He teased.

"What are you doing back tonight?" You barked, trying to hide your embarrassment with anger.

"I just wish I'd waited a little longer to come back, maybe you would have already had your panties off."

You knew these were the words of a pervy old man, but you couldn't help the way you felt as you heard them come from Jiraiya. Finally having the courage to look at him, you noticed how dark his eyes had gotten. Looking down, it was hard not to notice the tent forming in his pants.

You had thought you were already as turned on as you could have been, but seeing the way he looked at you was on another level entirely. You had always wanted him to look at you this way, wanted him to desire you.

You let the blanket fall, exposing yourself to him again. You tried not to show your excitement at the way you could see his smile grow as his eyes darted back to your chest.

"How about you take them off for me, sensei?"

You thought you had given the older man a heart attack. He froze, something you figured uncommon for a man so experienced as Jiraiya. He only faltered for a moment, quickly regaining his thoughts and making quick strides over towards you.

He did as you asked, tearing your panties from your body and rubbing his calloused fingers against your pussy. You moaned at the contact, rolling your hips towards Jiraiya.

"You like that?" He asked, "do you like it when your sensei touches you like this?"

You could barely respond, merely nodding as he elicited another moan from you. He leaned towards you, capturing your lips in his own. In the same moment you reached towards him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

"Fuck Jiraiya," you moaned as he began kissing down your neck towards your breasts. Jiraiya smirked at your reaction, knowing what he was doing to you. He pulled away just long enough to undress his torso, coming back to lick a circle around your nipple. One of your hands roamed his chest, running your fingers over the scar you found so sexy. The other buried itself deep in his thick, white hair, trying to pull him closer to you.

He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking on your tit as he lazily rolled his tongue around the bud. You continued to moan, urging him on.

For his part in the matter, Jiraiya hadn't felt this young in a long time. Sure, he'd had a run-in or two at a brothel, but nothing like this. Something about this felt more real to him. He knew all of the noises you made for him were genuine, and all he wanted to do was make them get louder.

You felt yourself reaching closer to orgasm as Jiraiya pulled away, taking off his pants. You raised your eyebrows as he exposed himself, met with more than you had expected. For a moment you were worried it wouldn't fit.

"Get on your knees for your sensei."

You did as you were told, getting on your knees so that you could take him eagerly into your mouth. You thought back to the earlier pages in the book, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock.

"Fuck Y/n," he groaned, trying to push more of himself into your mouth. "Your mouth feels so fucking good baby."

You moaned around his cock at the words of praise, sending delicious vibrations through his body.

Looking up at Jiraiya, everything was even better than you had imagines. His hand was in your hair, pulling you further onto his dick.

"That's right baby, get this dick nice and wet so I can fuck you."

You did just that, excited when he pulled out of you mouth. He pulled you up off the floor as if you weighed nothing, pushing you back on the bed.

"Do you want this baby?" Asked Jiraiya, lining himself up.

"Yes sensei," you moaned, teasing him and trying to push your hips closer to his. "Please fuck me Jiraiya."

At your words he pushed himself into you, going slowly enough to let you adjust to his size. When you were ready you started rocking your hips against his, begging him to move.

He began thrusting in and out of you, his thighs slapping against yours in a way that made your pussy throb.

"Jiraiya," you moaned, already feeling close to orgasm after being so close earlier in the night. You could tell he was feeling the same, the tightness of your wet pussy driving him crazy.

Jiraiya looked down at you, watching your tits bounce as he fucked you in a way he had never imagined. Your eyes rolled back and your mouth parted as he thrust into you, only adding to his ego as well as his own pleasure.

"You're gonna make me cum looking like that," he grunted. All you could do was moan in response, holding eye contact with him long enough to feel his thrust falter a little.

The tension was building up in the pit of your stomach until Jiraiya shifted, hitting your g-spot as he thrust. You couldn't hold on any longer, walls contracting around his cock as you screamed his name. He didn't last long after that, your pussy clenching around him pushing him over the edge. He pulled out, spilling over your stomach as he finished jerking himself off.

As he finished, he leaned down to press a kiss to your tired lips. Something about the action felt almost domestic, and you couldn't deny the butterflies in your stomach.

"I'm glad I brought this with me," joked Jiraiya, motioning to the book that lie forgotten on the floor.

"Me too," you teased. He smiled back at you with sleepy, satisfied eyes. This would be far from the last time, you were sure. And you couldn't wait for the next one.

-

-

MASTERLIST

[redux-iterum]

A Kindling: Chapter Twenty-Two

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Dodge him!” Bluestar barked.

Firepaw blinked stupidly and tried to shake himself awake, muscles complaining as he struggled to his feet. One heartbeat he had been in his nest, and every beat after that had him somewhere new— dragging himself along after his mentor, then stumbling into the training hollow. Now he was being knocked around by Greypaw. His eyes were too bleary to see through and a single step took every ounce of the dearth of energy in his body.

He blinked again, fiercer, finally able to make out his friend standing across from him. Greypaw didn’t look much better off, but he was standing straight and his yellow eyes were open and focused. That was the only clear part of him; his stripes spun and melted together with the lighter grey parts of his pelt.

“Firepaw!”

He turned his head towards Bluestar’s voice, but stars help him if he could see her properly. Her own yellow eyes were much less friendly.

“You need to focus,” she said sharply.

“Sorry…” Firepaw mumbled, and shook himself again. It didn’t help. “I’m tired, is all…”

“You had plenty of rest this morning, didn’t you?” Bluestar’s blurry tail lashed. “Wake yourself up and dodge him.”

Firepaw looked to Greypaw, who had now crouched, ready to charge again. His own tail was stiff and low, and his ears folded back nervously. Firepaw tried to prepare himself to leap to the side, leaning towards the right. Hesitantly, Greypaw jumped forward, but even at his most careful, he bowled Firepaw over and sent the little tom rolling backwards (though still to the right).

“Firepaw!”

He didn’t get back up immediately—he had to pull himself from the welcome soft sand, still warm from the recently-set sun and soothing his tired and aching body. Greypaw approached, perhaps to help, but he jerked back and quickly cowed before an approaching, angry Bluestar.

“What are you doing?” she snapped. “I told you to dodge him. You didn’t even try!”

“Did,” Firepaw mumbled. With great effort, he got up and looked at his leader. “The walk took a lot out of me, I think, and—”

Bluestar’s paw shot up for silence. “Greypaw and Ravenpaw made that walk with you, and they’re doing just fine. You slept throughout the rest of the day and part of tonight. I don’t want to hear any excuses.”

Firepaw searched for something helpful to say—an apology, a positive remark, a promise to do better. What came out of his mouth was the exact opposite of that.

“Well, you’re getting them,” he said. “I’m tired. I can’t help it.”

Bluestar’s eyes flared. She loomed over her apprentice, tail lashing hard enough to blur out of his vision. “You need to remember who you’re speaking to.”

“I remember,” Firepaw said, much more calmly than he felt. “But I don’t think you’re being fair, that’s all. I’m not Greypaw or Ravenpaw. I’m me, and I need more rest than them, I guess.”

Out of the corner of his eye, the other cats in the hollow were all staring at the mentor-apprentice pair. He couldn’t focus on their faces, but he could guess they were all a lot more nervous than he was.

Bluestar’s teeth bared themselves in his face. “You are out of line.”

Firepaw’s eyes squinted a little on reflex, but he forced them back open to stare the leader down. “I’m sorry I’m making a good point that you don’t like.”

Ravenpaw gasped quietly somewhere to his left.

Bluestar snarled. Firepaw met her eyes, not in challenge, but in observation—and then he realized it, clear as the blue sky.

She was embarrassed of him.

And that stung more than any strike across the face she could have given him.

A lump formed in his throat and his stomach rolled nauseously. He searched her eyes, silently pleading that he made a mistake seeing that, and she was only angry…

No. Embarrassment. Regret, even. Regret of what? That she’d brought him in? Let him argue with her?

Firepaw’s stomach urged him to be sick.

When Bluestar spoke next, it was in a low, threatening growl. “If you’re going to do so poorly in fighting, perhaps you should hunt instead.” She lifted her head out of his face and jerked a nod a little backwards. “Go. Don’t come back to camp until you’ve caught something.”

“Bluestar, can’t he—” Greypaw moved forward again, only to flinch back when her glare turned on him.

Surprisingly, Ravenpaw lifted a paw and said meekly, “M-maybe we can hunt too?”

Bluestar turned his way now and he cowered. Whitecloud stepped up to him and gently placed a paw on his back.

The leader, tall and bristling to twice her size, glowered at Firepaw. “I said go.”

Firepaw’s eyes fell. Silently, paws and tail dragging, he walked past her, not looking at Lionface, Whitecloud, Ravenpaw, or Greypaw. The ferns brushing against his pelt hardly registered to him.

It was still fairly early in the night, the moon barely a claw’s width and the stars glittering cheerfully where the foliage didn’t block the sky. Firepaw glanced up at them once, but lifting his head too high made him dizzy, so he stuck to focusing on what was in front of him.

It was tempting to wait until he couldn’t hear or smell the cats in the hollow before finding a spot, curling up and sleeping his emotions and weariness away. Very tempting. But Firepaw shook his head aggressively and stalked on. He was going to catch something, no matter how long it took. Otherwise, he wasn’t allowed back in camp.

Not that I haven’t broken a rule before…

His nose, at least, was kind to him, sharp enough to catch the trail of a mouse. Firepaw crouched to stalk and instantly regretted it—his sleepiness caught up with him and tried to pull him onto his side for rest. He forced himself, hard as it was, to crawl forward. He barely made a few steps before his paw crunched down on a twig and the unseen mouse scuttled away, twitching a few blades of grass as it went.

Firepaw sighed and shut his eyes. He sensed this was going to be a pattern. With great difficulty, he stood and kept moving, nose in the air and sniffing away.

On any other normal night, the air would feel crisp and bring his feet a little bit of dancing energy. The soft soil would delight him with its rich scent, and the soft rustles of leaves and ferns would ignite his senses like nothing else. As it was, he was cold, his feet were damp and slightly muddy, and he could barely pay attention to anything going on around him, let alone enjoy it all.

Again, he scented prey—a mole this time—and again, he only had to take a step or two forward before he ruined the hunt, now by scraping the ground with his tail. The mole was gone before he could blink. He shut his eyes again, tighter, willing himself to be positive and focus.

Time seemed to halt in its tracks as he continued, finding and scaring away more prey than he could count. Cold breezes nipped at his ears and nose, his feet weren’t even lifting off the ground anymore, and his tail collected mud. There was no point in trying to make out details in the bark of trees or individual leaves; he was seeing blobs of colors now. His mind had the barest of clarity, allowing him small snippets of thoughts here and there. Otherwise, he might as well have been in a dream.

Who knew how much time passed before a stray tree-root snagged Firepaw’s front paw. He couldn’t react in time to save himself, so he fell forward, landing on his chest. He didn’t have it in him anymore to stand back up. Instead, he sank the rest of the way onto his side, head half in the moist earth, and shut his eyes.

He’d be back up in a moment…

 “Honeymouse?”

Firepaw cracked open an eye, turning his head ever-so-slightly to a golden form above him. His mind woke up now, and his vision cleared enough to make out Goldenflower’s worried face.

He raised his head up and squinted—it was much brighter than it had been a moment ago. He was confused, to be sure, but he remembered to be pleasant. “Hi, Goldenflower.”

The matriarch sniffed at the side of his head that had been on the ground. “Oh, stars, you’re all muddy. How long have you been lying here?”

“Um…” Firepaw squinted harder, thinking. “What time is it now?”

“Almost dawn.”

“Then, uh…when it was dark, I guess.” He yawned, stretched, and slowly stood up, much easier this time. “I was too tired to keep track of time.”

“You little thing…” Goldenflower’s massive paw gently brushed away the scrapes of soil on his face, though some was stuck to his fur. “I was so worried when you didn’t come back. Bluestar told me what happened, and…” Her amber eyes narrowed just a bit, but it was enough to completely change the tone of her face—Firepaw suddenly had the urge to back away from her paw. “We had a conversation.” Her eyes softened again, the change reversed. “I hurried to find you, but it still took me a while. I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh.” Firepaw blinked and looked around. It was most certainly almost dawn—the sky was turning gold in the distance and the forest was yellow and night-sky-blue in a striped pattern of light and shadow. “Thank you for coming for me, but… I don’t think I can go home yet. I didn’t catch anything.”

Goldenflower shook her head. “That’s all forgotten. You’re free to come back whenever you want.” There was a slight pause before she softly added, “And I’ll stay out here with you if you’re not ready.”

The change to kindness from anger and morose failure to hunt was a little drastic for a still-waking Firepaw. He took a moment to absorb it, and another to shake himself. This time it definitely woke him up. Refreshed again (to some degree, at least), he looked up at Goldenflower and blinked gratefully.

“I can come back now, I think,” he said. “If Bluestar’s okay with it.”

“She will be,” Goldenflower replied sweetly, “whether she likes it or not. But here, hold on, let me dust you off.”

She gave Firepaw no time to argue—in a heartbeat, she was circling the apprentice, gently pawing the right side of his body as free of the soil as he could be. Some of the wetter parts had clumped up stray clumps of hair, but she did quite a good job, leaving him mostly presentable.

“There.” Her eyes crinkled, pleased with herself. “That will do for now. Let’s get you home.”

“Bluestar really said I can come back?” Firepaw asked as they turned and started in the direction of camp.

Goldenflower nodded.

“Huh.” Firepaw looked ahead, considering. “She was really mad at me. But I guess it’s fair. I made her look bad in front of everyone else.”

“You didn’t do anything, love,” Goldenflower said firmly. “Your friends told me exactly what happened. She should have handled that better.”

Firepaw was thankful for her support, but the image of Bluestar’s embarrassment in her eyes made him reconsider going home. It was ice in his belly, the kind that would make him sick if he’d eaten recently. His head and tail lowered in shame.  

Goldenflower noticed and gave his ear a lick. “You won’t be in trouble when we return, I promise. I made sure of that. Let’s get a meal in you and you can keep resting in your den.”

“Thanks,” Firepaw said quietly. “I don’t know if I’m still that tired, though. It’d be better than talking to Bluestar, I guess, but… I don’t think I should avoid that.” As he spoke, he raised up his chin a little and looked to Goldenflower. “That’d be wrong, right? To just not talk.”

Goldenflower looked down at him with great affection. “You two will talk, I’m sure. But it’s very late, and most of the Clan is heading to bed by now. You just need to eat and rest again.”

That didn’t really answer his question, but Firepaw let it go for now. He just walked alongside her, her maternal aura soothing him.

The pair made it back to camp without incident. When they entered, several cats looked up expectantly… and a little nervously? Odd. Firepaw nodded to them and they relaxed a little, though they still eyed Goldenflower apprehensively. The matriarch did not acknowledge them; she simply returned to the nursery, where Brindleface was waiting outside of the den. Firepaw watched as Brindleface almost skittered away from Goldenflower, who acknowledged her with a pleasant “thank you” before sitting back down in her usual place.

Firepaw didn’t have more time to ponder this—Redtail was approaching, flanked by Lionface and Whitecloud. He quickly stood straight, self-conscious of his dirty coat.

“You alright, chrii?” Redtail asked quietly, lowering his head to Firepaw’s eye-level.

“Oh…” Firepaw nodded quickly. “Yes, thank you. I-I didn’t catch anything, if Bluestar…” He paused and looked around. “Where is she?”

“Our guest wanted to speak with her,” Whitecloud said. “She’s been in her den since then.”

Firepaw glanced at the hag’s spot. Sure enough, she wasn’t there.

“Where’ve you been?” Lionface peered at Firepaw, sniffing. “You’re half-mud.”

Sheepishly, Firepaw looked up at the toms with his head low. “I, um, might have fallen asleep out there.”

Lionface snorted and Whitecloud gave him a sympathetic blink. Redtail shook his head disappointedly. Firepaw feared that he’d made a mistake before the deputy spoke.

“We should have given you the night off,” he sighed. “I’m glad Goldenflower found you. She was insistent on doing it herself.” He grimaced. “I’d be surprised if Bluestar showed up again tonight after that whole thing.”

“Well, it’s over now.” Whitecloud nodded to Firepaw. “You must be hungry. There’s a mole on the prey-pile. I hear you like those.”

“I do!” Firepaw perked up, paused, and then asked, “Am I allowed to eat, Redtail?”

“Go ahead,” Redtail said, sounding amused.

Firepaw bobbed his head to each tom before trotting off to snag his prey. He still didn’t feel very hungry, but it had been dusk since he’d eaten, and he knew he needed something. He took the mole and moved a little away to make room for others before sitting down and eating. The mole tasted like nothing, though the chewy feet brought some small comfort.

After his meal, he silently picked himself up and went straight for the apprentices’ den without speaking to any of the few cats left outside. Greypaw and Ravenpaw looked to be asleep when he came in, but Ravenpaw lifted his head when Firepaw’s shadow crossed him.

“Are you okay?” he whispered. “We were worried, you were gone for so long.”

“I’m alright.” Firepaw bumped heads with his friend. “I just fell over and went to sleep out there. I think I’ll continue now, if I can.”

“Oh, good.” Ravenpaw sagged a little with relief. “Well, I guess we can talk tomorrow, then. Sleep well. I mean, keep sleeping well, I guess.”

“You too.” Firepaw moved past him to his nest with a tail-flick. Ravenpaw curled up again as Firepaw flopped into his moss-bed.

He didn’t expect that he would be tired enough earlier, but the comfort of being home and having a meal soon shut his eyes and relaxed his heartbeat. Still, he went in and out between sleeping and waking, hardly thinking clearly enough to tell the difference between the two.

[starlit-lilies]

@tamyrawilliams​​:

Pushing people away. Looking back on their latest interactions, it could have been read like that for sure and Tamyra could understand lashing out at others because of something else entirely, she sure did her fair share of that in the past. But she stoll appreciated the apology Lily was expressing.

“I’m definitely not going to say no to you trying to make it up to me, whatever plan you have in mind,” she said, her voice gentle but cheeky. “I know some would say don’t mind it, but I’m not one of those people, so I’m all ears.

"But Lily, aside from all of that,” she added, her voice turning more serious. “I just need you to know that disagreements aside, I never wanted anything bad for you or your family. Maybe we don’t agree about the island or the jungle, any of it, but what I’m doing is to understand this place we live in, even if usually it has little consequences, and to protect myself and the people I care about. And some of those people are the people you care about as well. So you know, maybe our ideas and beliefs aren’t the same, but I’d like to think our goals are.” And Tamyra meant it. She could get frustrated easily, she was easy to pick a fight or an argument with, but she did what she thought was best for the most part.

“Me and Jovi… we’re both dealing with the aftereffects. I’m sure you know what those are like, how much they suck. Nothing good about them.” Tamyra went for swims, kept away from people for the most part, didn’t want to create even more trouble after the incident with Joaquin.

“And Jupe is a champion. She had so much shit thrown her way from the fakes but she shrugged them off for the most part. She’s somebody who’s really hard to get down and keep down,” Tamyra smiled, soft, her voice gentle as she talked about her sister. They were getting closer slowly and she was extremely glad of it. “She insisted I stayed with them after we all got out of the trees and took care of me, it helped a lot during those first few days especially.”

⋆ 。゜☁︎ 。⋆ 。゜☾゜。⋆

Lily grinned at Tamyra’s teasing, but she ducked her head a little as her former mentor’s tone turned more serious. Her words made Lily’s eyes unexpectedly hot and she took a breath, lifting her head to meet Tamyra’s eyes, swallowing hard. It was easier to talk about their families than… whatever it was she was feeling now.

Pathetic, a little bit, don’t you think? her voice crooned in the back of her mind.

“Jupiter’s awesome,” she said with a smile. “She was like that in the Labyrinth, too. Even at her lowest she tried to keep her head up.” She remembered the early days, waking up to find Jupiter crying, staying awake with her. But here they were now, with families, with people who cared about them (are you sure?). “I’m glad you guys have her to help out. Let’s hope the symptoms get better soon.”

What came next was a little more difficult, and it took her a few moments to gather the courage to say, but it was necessary. Lily said, “I’ve never thought you meant me any harm, Tamyra. And I know—I know you think I influenced the jungle in some way, when the Labyrinth came for us, but I’ve—I promise I have never wanted you to be or get hurt. Ever. I know we’re both protective of people we care about, so you’re totally right, our goals are the same even if we have different approaches. And I know I have issues with thinking my way is the best way and also the only way, so I’m working on that.” Lily laughed, rubbing a hand over her face. “Honestly, I’ve started to think you’re right about the island. A little bit.”

Her gaze flicked to the treeline, a bolt of fear shivering through her, accompanying the realization that she’d been foolish to say that out loud. She touched her forehead and brought her hand out, an old gesture of apology.

“But um, the project.” Lily turned to the basket she’d put beside her, standing up and wading into the water so Tamyra can get a better look. In her hand were long strips and squares of thin, silvery fish-leather, some of which are higher quality than others. “Tomas wants people to start recycling fish-skin. He put me in charge of making the leather. But I was thinking, you know, what do we do with it after it’s leather? ‘Cuz it’s actually really thin, and not very water-proof.

“The magazine said that the traditional shirts would take like, 50 fish, but they could also be used for belts and shoes and things. So I was thinking—if you’re up for it—we could work together on like… clothing designs and making them real?” Lily looked up at Tamyra, trying to gauge her reaction. “You can say no, of course, but I thought it could give us a project that doesn’t have anything to do with the island.”

[comradelup]

“Try putting your foot up on the chair.”

Kravitz does as he’s told, propping his leg up and leaning on it, peering down into the lens held by Taako, who is laid flat on the ground and holding up the camera.

“Perfect,” Taako mumbles, and Kravitz hears the shudder start going off. “Feel free to move around.”

Kravitz tries a few poses, leaning forward to almost glare at the camera, leaning back and giving off (what he hopes is) a regal air. He holds his arms over his head in that artsy way he’s seen more experienced models do before.

It feels weird to even compare himself to models. This isn’t his passion, he’s just doing a favor for a friend. “How’s this?”

“Lookin’ good, my man,” Taako says, then he lowers the camera and sits up, looking around the “studio” that is the basement of the twins’ apartment. “How about you try sitting in the chair?”

Kravitz steps off of it, turning around and falling into it as Taako stands and rolls his shoulders. As he finds a place to stand for these new shots, Kravitz asks, “You sure this doesn’t look stupid?”

“Positive. I’m not a bad photographer,” Taako answers, a majority of his attention on the settings of his camera.

“It’s just— I got all dressed up to take pictures in a basement on this dinky chair.” Kravitz gestures to the basement and the chair, then smooths out the long black skirt he’s in. It’s much too fancy for chair that looks like it’s housed torture victims.

“That’s the point, O Unenlightened One,” Taako says with a smirk. “The message is that royalty and grace can be found anywhere. Diamond in the rough and all that.”

He looks up from his camera, peering through his lashes at Kravitz with that same smirk. Looking him up and down, he adds, “You’re the perfect model for this.”

Kravitz almost feels the weight of his gaze. “And why is that?”

“Because my sister found you working in an office, when you’re pretty enough to do this professionally.” Taako says it with such bluntness that Kravitz can’t help but snort and laugh.

“Why not both?” Kravitz suggests and Taako crouches down and gets into position to shoot. Kravitz falls into a pose that he hopes isn’t stiff and obviously forced. By the sound of the rapid fire shuttering, it’s good enough.

“Both is good,” Taako says, “Takes a while to pick up a modeling career. Same applies to the other side of the camera.”

“Is that why you’re working with Barry and Lup?”

Taako shrugs, pausing in the shooting to let Kravitz find another position. “They’re friends, not colleagues.”

“How’d you meet, anyway?” He finds a stance and Taako starts taking more pictures.

“Lup and I met in the womb. Super cramped, not a lotta space. We had no choice but to talk. It’s like when you get stuck with someone in an elevator.”

Kravitz rolls his eyes. “I meant you two and Barry.”

“He’s also a photographer. Mostly landscape, but he wanted to try portraits. He reached out to me and asked if we wanted to work together on a shoot. Turns out he lived closer and at some point I just became his mentor.”

“And how long have he and Lup been together?”

Taako lowers the camera and fixes Kravitz with a flat look. “They aren’t.”

“What?”

“I know!” Taako exclaims, throwing an arm up and letting it plop onto his knee before resuming his grip on the camera. “As soon as they met Lup said she wasn’t letting him go. Three years later and she still hasn’t made a move. And he’s into her too but hasn’t done anything about it either. They’re idiots.”

“You should do that matchmaking thing from movies,” Kravitz jokes.

Taako stops, slowly lowering his camera. “I should.”

“I was joking.”

“I’m not,” Taako says, “Wanna help?”

“…Duh.”

[doublekrecs]

Going Live

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis: You're an intern for the FBI but double as a camgirl in your spare time. You thought you kept things pretty well under wraps but who knew one of your mentors watched you all along. 

Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v action (remember to wrap it), face fucking, use of sex toys, tiny bit of degrading

a/n: writing this in the setting of season 10/11 because spencer looks so damn good and i wanted to include my girl tara

also part 2 of more than physics should be up later today! hope you enjoy -🧞‍♀️

You had been a paid intern for the FBI for about a year, paid being said lightly. But the job was definitely worth it. While being under the wing of the BAU you had not only learned so much about your hopefully future profession, but you had made a family with the team. Especially under the wing of Tara Lewis, she had been there for a little while but you looked up to her work and she was more than happy to offer advice and a good wine night.

The team knew you had a second job on the side but weren’t exactly sure what it was, just that you worked from home. They respected your personal life enough to stay out of it, however that didn’t stop Rossi from offering you a little extra because “that's what uncles are supposed to do”. You would always wave him off and say you could handle yourself, because you could. 

You thoroughly enjoyed working. The money and gifts were obviously a big reward but there was always something so exciting about being on camera. Maybe it was how risque it was, being exposed for thousands to see. Or the fact that many were pleasuring themselves to the sight of you.

It was Friday night and you were getting your setup ready. You already had your outfit and glam on. Someone had sent you a set from your wishlist, lilac lace hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating all your assets and boosting your confidence. In your hair were the same color streaks you did with a tinting spray. You set the camera and laptop up in front of your bed. Silk sheets and plush pillows behind you where you could rest comfortably before your show started. 

Little did you know across town Spencer Reid was getting ready to tune in to said show. He was never one for tech, having Garcia still hand him paper files and would refuse to upgrade his phone. He had gotten a computer just so he could video chat with doctors quickly about new medicine for his mother. However he quickly found out there was so much more the internet had to offer.

_

He had stumbled across your show one lonely night. Spencer couldn’t see himself going out to find a one night stand so the pleasure of his hand it was. He was looking through videos when he saw the thumbnail with a girl wearing glasses similar to the ones you wear when you forget contacts. His curiosity got the best of him and if he was a cat he’d be one life down. He couldn’t believe the sight on the screen in his lap. 

There you were the bubbly intern, body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you from the pink wand you held over your clit. He was delightfully flustered and the moans spilling from the computer’s speakers weren’t doing much to help.

He was entranced by you writhing in pleasure but was knocked back into reality after hearing you giggle. God he loved when you made that noise in the office, usually after fake flirting with Hotch or hearing about JJ’s boys. But this situation was totally different and if he was honest with himself he was very into it. 

You reached over to grab a large pink dildo. Taking it in your mouth before swiping it through your folds. It easily slipped in and you started rapidly pumping it into you chasing your orgasm. 

Spencer was too enthralled to even think about touching himself. He was using the gift which was his eidetic memory to the best of his ability to make this something he’d never forget. 

You came with a loud moan, hips lifting and grinding against the toy to chase the friction. Quickly you turned off the wand and took the toy out. You sat up and looked into the camera before sucking it off. Spencer's eyes widened as he let out a groan shifting on his bed. 

“Alright guys that was fun for tonight,” you said as you sat criss cross on the bed. “I didn’t think I’d be able to get to five.”

FIVE?? He thought in his head. He felt like he was gonna explode just watching those last few minutes. How was he supposed to last watching you make yourself cum five times. 

“Thank you so much for all the tips and support! My links are all in the description and I’ll see you angels next Friday! Muahh” you signed off blowing the camera a kiss. 

Spencer knew it was wrong of him to view a coworker in such an exposed light but he couldn’t help himself. So he spent the night viewing some of your old videos which brought him to what he swears to be the best orgasm of his life. Of course he sent gracious tips and made sure to buy little items off the wishlist, mentally noting to return every Friday night. Even if it meant hiding in the bathroom from Morgan in their shared hotel room on cases. That was two months ago. 

_

Just as you finished your session the phone rang signaling a case. Quickly you got in the shower and put on comfy business clothes since you usually stayed with Garcia doing extra research and taking notes. You quickly grabbed your bag and keys, making your way straight to the office. 

In the elevator you heard someone calling to keep it open. Spencer made his way in, buttoning his cardigan and adjusting his bag, quickly saying thank you. You pressed the button to the floor as you felt a pair of eyes on you. Looking over Spencer was eyeing you with a confused look on his face. You were about to question him when he spoke up first. 

“I thought you had streaks in your hair”

“I did… Earlier tonight but they washed out.” He looked even more confused, then his brain put two and two together. He just realized what he had said. For a genius this wasn’t one of his brightest moments. 

You looked at him amused as a deep blush spread from his neck to the tips of his ears. There was only one way someone would know about your quick hair change: by watching your show. The door to the elevator opened and you walked out giggling as he started sputtering apologies behind you. You quickly cut him off. 

“Spence, it's alright. If you want we can talk about this later because right now you have a bad guy to catch. But may I suggest making your name something less obvious, not that I don’t love ‘magiclover187’.” He stood there mouth gaping as you patted his shoulder and walked up to the conference room to meet the rest of the team. 

_

The case was one of the easier ones. Very minimal killing and the team was back by Tuesday morning, ready for a week of paperwork. Spencer had been dancing around you the whole time, he could barely keep eye contact with you and would rush to leave the room if you walked in. If he was this flushed around you with clothes on you could just imagine how much of a mess he would be when he watched you perform. Which brought an idea to your head. 

Friday rolled around and you walked over to his desk where he was nose deep in one of his Russian books. You put your hand in it to bring it down. Once he noticed it was you he was about to start with another ramble of apologies when you stopped him.

“Alright I’m tired of the awkwardness and I want my friend back,” you said with a soft smile. “Why don’t you come over tonight and we can have that talk. I’ll even order a pizza and we can watch Doctor Who.”

“Y/n are you sure? I-I mean it is um uh Friday.. And ya know you usually film,” he said as he played with his tie. 

You giggled at how nervous he was. Poor little genius didn’t know he was the only one with tricks up their sleeve. 

“It’s fine I promise. Just a night with my favorite customer,” you said winking at him. He choked and looked around to see if anyone was looking at his outburst.

“I’m kidding.. Sort of,” you trailed off. “But I mean it about you coming over. I’m going home now but I expect you there in an hour with drinks.”

With that you turned around and walked off, adding a little extra sway to your hips. Obviously that did the trick as you heard a small groan behind you. Spencer dropped his head back as he started wracking his brain to figure out how to live through the night without making a bigger fool of himself or cuming in his pants. 

_

You know maybe you were evil, you thought to yourself as you put on the finishing touches to your outfit for the night. Once you got home you sped into the shower to freshen up for him to come over and get your setup ready. You were wearing a cream colored strappy bodysuit. Over it was a large cardigan, almost resembling the maroon one he owned, strange. To top it off you were wearing your glasses and your legs were adorned with your favorite thigh high socks. 

The three knocks on the door instantly made a smirk appear on your face. This might just be one of your best schemes yet. Looking through the peephole you saw Spencer gnawing on his bottom lip holding a few bottles of soda. Taking a deep breath you opened the door greeting him with all the casualty in the world. 

“Hey! I’m glad you came, come in.”

He followed you in and tried to keep his eyes above your neck, trying to act like he wasn’t getting completely hard by just your outfit.  You sat down on your couch and patted it for him to sit next to you. He took the seat and gulped not really sure what you had planned. 

“Um how long for the pizza to get here?” 

“The pizza’s not coming Spence,” you said shaking your head. “But you are.”

You leaned forward to place your hand on his on the couch. “I want you to fuck me on camera Spencer,” you said with sweet confidence, fluttering your lashes. His eyes kept flashing between your cleavage showing through the cardigan and your lips before finally landing on your eyes. He didn’t see a single hint of humor in them, nothing transparent but lust. 

He pulled his hand from under yours to place in your hair, pulling you into a heated kiss. You pushed back on his chest a bit to try and get some air. 

“Save that magic for the show,” you said as you pulled him up to lead to your bedroom. 

The camera was set at a little bit of a lower angle. The audience would just be able to see you and at most Spencer’s chest. You had made sure it was fine and even turned it on as a test so he could see what he looked like. After you got everything out of the way you hit the button to go live and instantly people started flooding in. If the bulge in his pants told you anything, it was that he was excited to be on the other side of the screen this time. 

“Hello my angels!” you said into the camera, Spencer was taken back at what was going on. After months of lusting over the young intern he was finally seeing the show in person. 

“Today I have a special guest with me. My very good friend, the Doctor,” you took his hand to pull him into frame. “He’s very excited to be here,” you said, hand moving down to palm him through his pants. 

His hand reached out and wrapped around your throat, making you look up at him. Huh. This was a new Spencer you wouldn’t mind seeing more often.

“Let's not play games princess. Or else the only thing making you cum tonight are your pathetic little fingers. Am I clear?”

You shivered at the intensity of his voice instantly trying to nod the best you could within his grip. He let go and you went back to task at hand, undoing his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. He was long and pink. Precum already spilling out of the pretty tip, you couldn’t wait to have him in your mouth, among other places. You wasted no time in licking a broad stripe along a vein under it. His hand went to grab a handful of your hair giving it a testing tug as a warning to stop teasing. 

Your hand went to grip what couldn’t fit in your mouth but you tried your best to take him all in. You could hear the pings of tips and comments being said. Spencer could too and leaned over slightly to read them. 

“Face fuck her,” he murmured. He pulled you off of his cock and looked down into your eyes, “Is that what you want princess? Hm.” His thumb went to clean up the spit dripping down your chin before rubbing your lips. “You want me to fuck your face?”, he said in a condescendingly sweet voice. 

“Yes Doctor please! Fuck my throat.” 

“Good girl.”

Both his hands made their place nested in your hair, guiding you to his cock. He wasted no time in being brutal. Tears were leaking down your cheeks as he kept on hitting the back of your throat. Spencer was enjoying himself to the fullest letting out curses and praises at how good your mouth felt. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer and you could feel it too as he started to throb in your mouth. He then pulled you off, a trail of spit connected from your lips and his cock. 

“Such a dirty whore for me. Show everyone how messy I make you,” he took your head and made you turn to look in the camera. Comments pinged talking about how pretty you looked with mascara running and smudged lipstick. 

“Thank them and ask if you deserve to cum on my cock,” Who knew Spencer had this in him. But you were loving every second of it and put on your best pair of puppy dog eyes to beg the camera for Spencer to split you in half. And you had no shame in doing so. 

“Please let the Doctor fuck me. I’ve been such a good girl for you guys,” you pleaded into the camera. The audience was pleased with your begging as they said you deserved it for being so good. 

Spencer took his time in unbuttoning the cardigan you had on, teasingly rubbing your arms as he slipped it off. His hands then went to the bodice of it, groping your breasts and teasing your nipples through the fabric. 

“Ah shit doctor, please fuck me already.”

Who was he to deny you of such a thing when you asked so nicely. He pushed you back down on the silk sheets. Pulling you by your thighs to the end of the bed where he moved the thong of the bodysuit to the side and slid his cock up your folds. Lubricating it in your juices before slipping right in. You both gasped at the intrusion, his hands grabbing your hips with a force sure to leave bruises. He used the leverage to set a brutal pace, ramming his cock into you. 

Your ears were ringing from the pleasure but you could hear the constant pings of your tip box and comment section flooding. 

“Shit baby you’re so tight. Perfect little pussy squeezing me so good.” You babled off thank yous and whimpers from being so close to your climax.

 You felt Spencer stop for a second and reach over to grab something. Then you felt it. Your wand set to the highest setting placed on your clit as he started to thrust into you again. Sounds of your moans and skin slapping together filled the room along with the buzzing of the vibrator. You were sure there was going to be a noise complaint notice on your door in the morning. 

You were so close to having the bubble in your stomach burst and so was he. 

“I'm gonna cum Doctor,” you practically yelled. “Please cum inside me!”

“Cmon princess. Let me feel you let go.”

With that the knot broke and you swore you died and went to heaven. Your walls squeezing Spencer led him to his end a little after you. Thrusts faltering and groaning at the feeling of pleasure washing over him. He turned off the wand and put it to the side before slipping out of you. 

Looking into the camera you gasped at your appearance. Hair disheveled and face messy from crying in pleasure multiple times that night. Your mixed release leaking down your thigh and onto the sheets. 

There were non stop pings of people calling Spencer a lucky bastard and asking for him to come back next Friday. Spencer nodded his head over to your bathroom to get you guys something to clean up with and let you do your closing. 

“Thanks for the love tonight angels,” you said with a smile on your face, entirely blissed out. “As always the links are in the description and I’ll see you guys next Friday. Maybe I’ll talk to the Doctor about future appearances. Bye!” 

With that you fell back on your bed and closed your eyes. Your body jolted at a sudden coldness between your thighs. 

“Right sorry,” Spencer whispered.

“So where did that come from?” you looked at him with an eyebrow raised. 

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he stated seriously. 

You giggled and took his hand, “Thanks for doing this with me.”

“Of course. Now why don’t you shower while I get us a pizza. For real this time.”

“Or we can shower together then call the pizza.”

He contemplated it before smiling at you, “You always have the best ideas.” 

“Don’t I know it.. Doctor.”

[collisiondiscourse]

battle scars || a deku & class 1-A drabble

(A quick drabble talking about members of class 1-A, the scars they share, and the love that heals them. TW for descriptions of violence and both external and internal injuries.)

There isn't a single hero that Deku knows of who doesn't have scars.

They aren't stigmatized, no not at all. No one who's ever seen a hero in action before thinks that scars are ugly. In hero society, scars are celebrated. Admired, adored, worshipped--whatever connotates the wearer to something positive. In a world where suffering and self-sacrifice are glorified, scars are a mark of beauty.

Even then though, Izuku Midoriya can't help but think that his scars are better off hidden.

He knows, god does he know, that everyone has their own wounds and injuries. Little divots here, the occasional prosthetic there--everyone he knows is marked in some way that reminds the world that they are still human where it matters. They aren't gods or faces off a product--just average traumatized people who unfortunately love humanity more than they love themselves.

Class 1-A being no exception.

Mina, for example, has burns. Big burns, small burns, burns of all shapes and sizes that litter her body like the pattern of the hero costume she wears. A few too many evil scientists with interests in chemistry like to think that their knowledge gives them the upper hand, but the Alien Queen always proves them wrong.

One of her horns is chipped, and when she gets drunk she admits that her sense of sight might be going. Sometimes, the scars sting, but the sweet ache of her body as she nails another dance routine reminds her that there's more to the world than how people look. When she begins to forget that, Kirishima claps loudly as she lands another pirouette.

Kaminari is dotted from head to toe in Lichtenberg scars. It's something that surprises no one, and something the blond feels no shame in showing off at any given moment. The lightning patterned marks are most prevalent along his forearms and palms, every hug from him feeling rough but safe nonetheless.

Occasionally, due to one too many brain fries, he'll have days where his mind doesn't seem like it's all there and memories fade like footprints in the sand. On those days, Denki lays down and Jirou runs her hands through electric blond hair while humming a soft and sweet tune.

Kirishima's scars run like cracks. They splinter and have ridges that look very much like his own quirk. Most of them are very faint and shallow, getting more focused and deep around his chest and forearms as he held firm against countless unrelenting attacks.

After one too many nosebleeds, the red-head finds out that he's way more prone to internal wounds from the way his organs deal with shock absorption less adaptively than his skin and bones do. Eijirou's tense muscles eventually learn to relax under the gentle caring massages from an exasperated Mina.

Iida, on the other hand, has a prosthetic. An unfortunate and horrible incident left him missing half a leg after pissing off a Stain-inspired villain who was a little too much like her idol. He's much less scarred (a benefit of his full-bodied armor), but Deku still sometimes sees the way he struggles to breathe.

Internal scars from internal wounds similar to Kirishima's make his body sometimes forget that he's stopped running. Tenya wears these scars with responsibility and blushes whenever he greets an enthusiastic Hatsume Mei for his monthly prosthetic maintenance check.

Uraraka has scars all over her fingers. Nicks and slices from where people tried to render her quirk useless by taking off a finger. She has a star-shaped mark on the right side of her forehead from where a building caved in and shattered her helmet.

Neat little slashes run up and down her ankles and soles of her feet from lucky shots people had before she floated away. Ochako wears these scars with ferocity and pride, adorning them in pink band-aids that Toga sometimes scratches at when the brunette comes to visit her in jail.

Todoroki is... a little different. The scar over his right eye is a lot more faded, yet still there. It grew up with him, healed and faded at the edges like the wounds in his heart, but not forgotten because of how it made him who he is. He has burns of all types adorned around his body--caused either by his own quirk or others.

He also often gets sick when he overexerts himself like the hopeless workaholic Big Three member he is. Yaoyorozu and Inasa visit him on those sick days, bringing light and chicken soup into his big empty home.

Bakugou's a lot similar to Deku. Their families and friends have noticed that if you put a diagram of their bodies side by side with markings of their injuries, it wouldn't exactly be a mirror image, but seemingly two parts of a puzzle clicking together. The blond had all sorts of scars around his body, a hazard that came with the title of Japan's Symbol of Victory.

There were deep lashes on his back, marks of muzzles and handcuffs from attempt after attempt of kidnappings and ransom hostages. On his forearms were twin bracelet scars, from an especially ruthless villain that attempted to cut his hands off in an effort to eliminate his quirk. Over his torso were two faint pink marks shaped like explosions, both from the first time he sacrificed himself for Deku.

Bakugou had similar aches on his shoulders and neck from overuse and recoil whenever he'd pushed himself too quick and too soon. Kacchan would scoff at the notion of hiding his scars and treat the pain with a quick home-cooked meal, fingers twitching when Deku would plop himself on the counter and ask about his latest shift.

But Deku?

Deku hid well. He hid because it was his habit to deceive and alter his appearance--covering things up with a simple black arm band because in the grand scheme of things there were some secrets best left unseen. Deku wore long sleeves and concealer over his skin like it was a suit of armor, hiding the rawest parts of him because even as he grew and climbed his way to the top, a part of him always remembered that the burden he carries is too heavy to let be seen.

So he hides.

He hides the way burns litter his skin from trying to contain the inferno that is OfA and walking through fire to bring civillians home. He hides the Lichtenberg scars and the way green lightning sometimes crackles hard enough to make him flinch as he fights his way through unbeatable hoards of enemis. He hides the prosthetics, the way his arms gave out on him quite a while ago, forcing them to be replaced and improved. He hides the way people have tried to tear him apart and steal his burden for themselves.

One for All was his greatest gift and most painful curse.

Some nights he trembles and shakes, muscles spasming in effort to just simply keep going. Shivers run up and down his spine because with every injury his blood circulation worsens and worsens until cold and pain is all that he feels. Izuku will sometimes walk around, scars hurting and throbbing hot white under his skin, and look for medication that dulls the ache and makes him go a little less crazy.

Hands mindlessly running over bumps and edges, scars from villains and friends and debris and growth spurts. He would stand in front of a mirror like a house of cards and pull himself apart, reflection making him detest himself from how gnarled and ugly and imperfect he was.

"--No, my boy. Not imperfect." The tall and gaunt figure of his old mentor would tut. Thin and skeletal fingers would grasp the bottom of a white shirt and lift it up, gently revealing a scar so deep it almost looks like a crater. "Not imperfect at all. For people like us, your scars make you far more than just a hero."

Deku, of course, would hum in resignation. He looks at All Might--no, Toshinori Yagi with a skeptical look and the retired hero would smile.

"You are... a miracle."

And just like that, Deku would be brought back to being 14 years old, quirkless and desperate. He's on his knees, looking at the Symbol of Peace in his true form--thin and pale but still oh so powerful. A voice tells him that there is a destiny he has far greater than he'll ever realize, an adventure that awaits him through the old skinny man with unruly blond hair.

Izuku didn't see weakness that day, no.

He saw hope.

So now, even as Pro-Hero Deku hides away the parts of himself that are broken and raw from the world he protects, he finds his cure all the same. In the arms of those who are warm and familiar, Deku sheds his armor, his foundation, his long sleeves--

and he is simply Izuku.

He is Izuku who gets spa days and yoga sessions with Ashido, Denki, and Eijirou that stops his muscles from spasming on days where it gets unbearable. He is Izuku who gets tender massages and hearty midnight snack runs with Ochako and Tenya when nightmares and visions just won't let him sleep. He is Izuku who gets soup and warm borrowed hoodies from Shouto and Kacchan when stress makes him keel over and shudder at the thought of working. He is Izuku who gets big warm hugs and a fierce movie marathon with his loving mother and mentor who is his father in all but name.

He is Izuku, riddled with scars that still heal.

[mackenziebrooks]

I'll Prove It To You

Summary: After getting together recently. The reader has to go on a mission with Luck and Magna. Before the reader leaves, she overhears Captain Yami and Asta talking. The conversation that she hears lingers in her head the entire time she is gone on the mission. Which makes the reader not able to focus on the tasks.

Pairing: Asta x reader

Warnings: cute, angst, dark content, yelling, cussing, fluff, mentions of Asta’s demon, overly protective Asta, sad, crying, sick, tears, the reader gets hurt, hurt, injuries, angry Asta, mention of the word sex, Yami and Asta have a talk, mention of the word hickey, heartfelt confessions, comfort,

Word count: 6,563

A/N: Here is a fic of everyone’s sweet emerald green-eyed boy, Asta. I also want to give credit to (Genn). We both gave our inputs into this story and I needed to give her credit. I would feel bad if I took it all and I know I shouldn’t. Hope everyone likes it. (If I need to add anything to the wanting list let me know).

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“Shit! Asta you idiot! I am going to be late!”, you yelled as you jumped out of bed and started to get your gear on.

Asta looked over the clock and cursed under his breath, he got up and started rambling around for his clothes. He spoke, “Don’t put this all on me Y/n! It’s just as your fault as mine”.

You slipped your squad robe over your head and opened the door, running down the hallway towards the living room of the base. Asta was right behind you, putting his headband on and trying his best to keep up.

You had to leave for a mission this morning with Luck and Magna, Captain Yami told you to be in the living room at exactly nine o clock. Well...you had three minutes to make it there in time. Maybe having sex with Asta the night before you had a mission to go on was not the best idea, but you couldn’t take last night back. Hell, you didn’t want to take it back. It was the best night of your life. Because Asta and you got together recently.

You just hoped that Luck and Magna didn’t leave without. Nah they wouldn’t. Yami is smart enough to not let them leave on a mission alone.

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Asta and you showed up exactly at nine o clock. The moment you two walked into everyone’s sight landed on you guys. They could see the various hickeys on Asta’s and your neck. Knowing exactly what you two did last night.

Captain Yami was sitting on the couch with a cigarette in his mouth. He took a puff and exhaled the smoke into the air. He spoke “Well it’s nice for the two lovebirds to finally join us”, with a chuckle.

Asta and you gulped a little and sat down in your respective seats, waiting for Captain Yami to explain the missions for today. Captain Yami spoke “For most of you, today will be patrolling around the kingdom. Vanessa and Charmy. You’ll take care of the skies. Gauche, Noelle, and Finral, you’ll take the streets. Magna, Luck, and Y/n. You three are going on that mission to a village a few miles from here to look around. Asta, you’ll be sticking with me for the day”.

The whole squad said “Yes sir”, and they all went their separate ways to go get their jobs done. Luck, Magna, and you stayed behind for a bit. To make sure you have everything you need before setting off for your mission. While getting everything together, Captain and Asta walked in talking. Captain Yami said, “I told you not to make Y/n late and what did you do? You almost made her late. Also, didn’t I say that she was off-limits”.

Asta could only just stand there and look at Yami, biting his lip to keep himself from lashing out at his mentor. In his head, his demon was raising hell saying things like “I’ll do whatever I want” and “She is mine Yami! Mine!”

Asta however, only could say “I was just being nice. I can’t help it that I have feelings for Y/N. I also can't help that shit got out of control and things happened last night”. Captain Yami pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, this kid is going to be the death of me. That is what went through Yami’s head. Yami said, “Kid, I don't care. I told you to not mess with her and you disobeyed my order. Therefore you are staying here today and not going on this mission”.

Hearing everything, Luck, Magna, and you just kept quiet. You three didn’t want to get on Captain’s bad side either. Yet, you felt bad. You made Asta go against the rules of Yami. Something that the squad knows not to do. Asta didn’t seem to care, he had feelings for you and he was going to make you see them. He loved you and cared about you so much.

You were about to walk over to talk to him about the whole conversation, but Luck called “Y/n!, let’s get going. Magic Knights always get a head start”. All you could do was look at Asta and you just say “I’ll talk to you later Asta, see ya”, then you headed out the door to go on your mission.

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The moment you walked out of your door, Asta felt like absolute shit. He thought he could finally have happiness in his life, and it’s already starting to be taken away from him.

The patrolling with Yami, Asta is just standing there all quiet. He wasn’t his happy self, he was just gloomy. He only gave Yami nods and small answers to his questions. If Asta saw anyone he knew, he would make small talk with them. When they ran into Yuno, Asta stood there and kept quiet. Yuno could tell something was bothering his rival/best friend. Yuno even said, “Asta...you can always talk to me if something is bothering you”. Asta could only nod and spoke, “Yeah...I know Yuno...thanks”.

Asta may be faking smiles on the outside, the demon was festering on the inside. He was growing more and more intense through the whole thing. The demon wanted Asta to just go off on Captain Yami, not think one second for the use of his words. Asta pushed him back and kept himself at bay. He was not going to do that to the person who saw so much potential and gave him a chance. Gave him a home.

Charmy tried making him sweets to cheer him, Asta would take them but he wouldn’t eat them. Vanessa would try her best to talk to him, Asta didn’t want to talk. Asta only wanted you. Captain Yami was starting to feel bad for what he had said to his little pupil. He didn’t mean to say it the way he did, he just wanted you to turn out like the rest of them.

Yami would sit beside his ash-blonde kid and say “Kid, I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it like that, I just...wanted to keep Y/N out of harm's way is all. I hope you can forgive me, kid. Oh, and you have permission to date Y/n, even if you did break my rules”.

Asta would half-smile and least take the apology from Captain Yami. He would reply “Thanks Captain and I forgive you, you were just trying to protect us”. Asta knew he couldn’t stay mad at Captain forever, because he’d never know if they had to work together if something dangerous was to happen.

Asta wanted to know “Did you truly want him still after all of this?”

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You on the other hand were questioning everything. Was the love Asta and you had even real? Did Asta love you or was it just to prove to Yami that he doesn’t listen?

Yami’s words kept playing over and over again in your head. You couldn’t get them out. You had to get them out. You had a mission that you needed to focus on. Magna brought you out of your thoughts by saying “Hey! Cheer up Y/n, it’s all okay. Yami does this all the time. Don’t be so upset about it”.

Luck would come up and put an arm around your shoulders and say “Yeah! We have a mission that needs to be taken care of. So we need to be focused”.

Just as you are about to speak, (some type of magic) get thrown at you three. Magna deflected it away with ease and said “Looks like you have to be focused a lot more sooner Y/N”. Luck quickly took his arm off of your shoulder and stood ready. You let your grimoire out of your slash and follow along with your comrades. You said “Thanks for the motivation guys, truly helpful”.

A guy came out from the woods and spoke “Oh how lovely, three young magic knights left unattended to. This is going to be a very exciting slaughter for me. I’ll start with the girl”.

Magna and Luck both bared their teeth and said “Over our dead bodies. You’ll never get to Y/N. We will make sure of it!”

The guy chuckled darkly and spoke “Oh sure you two will. Yet you do not know how my magic works. Ever hear the words ``silent but deadly”, as he raised his hand. His grimoire fluttered open. This guy spoke some words that you three were not familiar with.

In an instant, you felt a stabbing pain in your shoulder. You quickly grabbed at your wound and yelled out in pain. Luck and Magna both turned to you and yelled “Y/n!”. You said, “I’m...fine, just take care of this guy. I can still fight”.

Luck and Magna both nodded, headed straight for this unknown person. The guy said, “Oh I have a name pretty thing and it’s called Rin. Seems to me like you still aren’t fully understanding my attention. I’m getting rid of you”. Rin said the same words again, as he dodged Luck’s attack. You felt the same stabbing pain, but this time in your thigh. Causing you to drop to your knees.

You grit your teeth, keeping yourself from crying out in pain. You needed to help. You used your magic and let it do its work. While you still felt cuts and bruises being formed on your skin, you kept your spirits high. This fight had to be finished one way or another.

Luck and Magna both were getting hurt just like you, but you were taking the wounds way worse than they were. Luck doing everything he can to keep you from getting more hurt. While Magna took his communication device and called Yami. Hoping that the big brute would answer quickly and not make stupid remarks.

Once Yami answered, Magna spoke “Captain, we are in trouble and Y/n is hurt. Badly hurt. That she is pouring blood out of her shoulder and thigh. We can’t beat this guy. His magic, it is weird. You got to come help!”

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Captain Yami was sitting at the bar, about to enjoy his drink when his alert device went off. He groaned in annoyance. Noticing it was Magna, he knew it better be a good reason to ruin his afternoon drink. Yami spoke “Blaze this better be…”, but he never got to finish his words. Magna completely explained everything that was happening to them.

Yami had no idea that Asta was still in the room and was overhearing the conversation between his squad member and captain. The moment he heard Magna tell Yami that you were hurt, Asta was on his feet instantly.

As Yami finished the call, Asta spoke “Yami let me go please! It’s Y/n! Please let me go! I’ll do anything, just permit me to go help!” Asta’s eyes showed that he was not going to take no for an answer. Yami wanted to tell him, no but he knew he couldn't do that to his kid.

Yami knew if he did say no, then this whole situation would get more complicated and messy between Asta and you. It also would start the feud between Asta and him again. Yami didn’t want that to happen. Yami said “Fine kid. I’m going to let you go but I am going with you. Because you are not going to go and do something reckless and stupid”.

Asta smiles and understandably nods. Asta grabbed his swords and he headed out the door. Yami hollered “Vanessa, Gauche. Hold down the fort. Finral you are coming with us. We need your transportation”. Vanessa and Gauche would only say “Yes sir”. Finral wouldn’t say a word, he would make the portal and then the three of them would be heading to their members.

The whole trip through the portal, Asta is just anxious and ready to get to you. He needs to see just how badly you are hurt. Because Magna likes to exaggerate things, but Asta had the feeling that Magna was telling the truth. That you were hurt badly.

__________________________________________

When the portal opens, Finral, Yami, and Asta could see it all. Rin was still throwing everything he could at Luck and Magna. Magna staying close to your form. Keeping you protected. To this point, you were laying on your side. Trying to stay awake.

Asta could see all the blood on the ground. Not knowing it was from Magna, Luck, or you. His eyes lock onto your almost lifeless body. His whole body is starting to shake. That he starts to lose the fight with his demon, but he keeps it together.

Rin however dips before he could get caught from the new threats that entered his forest. Not wanting to deal with the big monkey of a man and the weird deformed kid.

Yami and Asta quickly hurried over to you. Asta dropped to knees, looking over at you. Asta says “Princess, who did this to you”. His voice changed from his sweet soft tone to the dark and demonic tone.

Asta couldn't fight the other side of him any longer and he was letting it fully come out. Someone hurt the one he loves the most and he wanted to get revenge. Yami wanted to tell Asta to not let it out all right now, but it was too late. Yami couldn't control the emotions going through Asta. Yami would have done the same thing.

As much as you wanted to tell him who did this to you, you couldn't tell him. Because you were doing everything you could to save your breath. The only thing you could make out was “Asta”. You watched as your blurred sight took in his wing, his talons, his horn, and his mixed colored eyes.

If Asta wasn’t by your side before, he was by your side now. Asta cupped your cheek gently with his human hand and he softly spoke “I’ll make them pay for what they did to you Y/n. I promise you that”. His voice was smooth enough to still talk to you. It would be smooth when he would talk to Yami and them. Not to the one who hurt his friends and girlfriend. Asta let go of your cheek and he then turned towards Luck and Magna.

Luck and Magna both gulped, not wanting to hear what Asta had to say. They were still terrified of his demon form. Asta spoke “Who did this to my girl”, clearly wanting his answer now. Luck spoke, “It all just happened so quickly. The guy..his name was Rin came out of nowhere and did this to Y/n. Did this to us”. Magna could only say “The Rin guy took off just as your guys got here and he went towards the north”.

Asta nodded his head and said “Thanks guys”, started to head towards the direction Rin had gone to. Though he stopped and waited for Captain to finish. Captain Yami would only be able to look at Asta in a whole new demeanor. Instead of the reckless kid he had always known, Yami saw him as a magic knight. Protecting what he cares about the most.

Magna would pick you up bridal style and head towards the portal with Luck. You would look at Asta before you disappeared into the portal. Yami spoke “Finral, you come back to us as soon as you are done getting them back to the base”, Finral replied, “Yes sir, I will be back in a flash”.

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As much as Yami is proud of Asta, Yami said “Asta. If we are going to do this, you have to act on my command. Not on your own. I promise you, kid, you’ll get revenge on this Rin guy, but it will be on my terms. If you do not listen, I will send you back with Finral and I will do this investigation myself. Understand?”

Asta wanted to turn around and argue with Yami. But, Asta knows that his captain is right. He has to do this on his command and not his own. Course Asta wanted to go back and be with you. Asta knows he needs to stay and make sure nothing happens to Yami, even if Yami can take care of himself. A magic knight does not run away from a fight. Asta spoke, “Yes captain I understand”.

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While they are off hunting down Rin. Finral got Luck, Magna, and you all back to the base safely. Magna carried you in and the rest of the squad could only gasp. They’ve never seen you this injured before. Vanessa would instantly take you from Magna, as he'd go and get freshened up. Along with Luck.

Vanessa, Noelle, and Charmy all took to Asta’s room, knowing that is where you would rather be. They all would take turns taking care of you. Noelle would carefully wrap your injured shoulder up, after cleaning all the blood off. She’d do the same with your thigh. Vanessa would patch up any scratches you had on your body, to keep any infections out. Charmy would go make all the soft and comfort foods that would help you regain your strength. Sadly, their worst fear came..you already developed a sickness due to your wounds.

They are completely concerned, more than they were initially. They could handle the wounds, but you being sick also? This was not good..not at all. Noelle would phone the kingdom’s doctor. The doctor would assure them that it was normal. Told them to just watch over her and let the wounds and the infections run their course.

Even if you knew you were home safe and sound. All you wanted to do was sleep. All you wanted was Asta. Because you felt safer if he was with you. Wearing one of his shirts wasn't enough to make you feel better. All you could do was cry for him. Making the rest of the squad pray that Asta would return home soon.

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It had been almost an hour, Yami and Asta still trying to find Rin. Asta’s anger had slowed down a bit, but it was still there. Captain Yami said, “We will find him kid don’t worry. I’ll let you have a piece of him and then I will take over”. Asta nodded and kept his eyes open for anything. Magna did explain that his guy’s magic was silent. Asta would be able to take him on. He produced anti-magic.

Not even within a few minutes, Asta’s Ki senses hit and slashed towards his right and then towards his left. Asta spoke “Come out you coward!”, growling. Yami smirked, proud of his kid for using his Ki. Yami would say “Excellent kid”, drawing his katana.

Rin would come out of hiding and say “How? No one can detect my magic and deflect it at ease!”, sending out more attacks. Asta dodged the ones sent his way, as Yami did the same. Asta said, “I can you bastard. Ever heard of anti-magic?”. Rin’s eyes would go wide hearing the words “anti-magic”. Rin just kept sending and sending attacks to his two enemies. Though this was a battle for revenge, Yami was enjoying being beside his demon child. Fighting and protecting the squad they loved. Minus how much they annoyed Yami.

Yami would say “Kid, use your demon speed and get behind him”. Asta would nod and fight his way to get behind Rin. Rin would put up a fight to keep Asta at bay, but it was useless. Asta was way faster and easily got behind Rin. Rin would turn around and fight Asta. Asta would grab him by the face and slam him to the ground. He would grip Rin’s shirt tightly, raising his fist and punching Rin in the face. At least a couple of times. Then putting his hand around Rin’s throat.

Yami would say to himself “Fucking hell kid”. Yami would hurry over and say “Asta don’t. I know you want to but don’t. That is an order”. Asta does all he can to restrain himself from not ending Rin's life. He wants to continue to punish Rin, just to make up for you getting hurt. At the same time, he needs to stop. He doesn’t want to ruin his reputation as a magic knight.

Asta would let go of Rin’s throat and back away from him. Yami would pick Rin up and have him by the collar of his shirt, just as Finral opened up a portal. Yami would make remarks to Finral, but not at the moment. Asta spoke “Took you long enough time machine”, Finral said, “I am your superior Asta, but right now. I know you are not in the mood to argue”. Yami and Asta would talk into Finral’s portal and they would go back to the Clover Kingdom.

Getting back to the kingdom, there were a lot of questions. Asta just stood there and listened to Yami and other captains talk. He wants to be involved, but he is keeping himself away. He isn't sure if he would be able to stop from ending Rin’s life if he were to see him again. Then again, he is also worried about you. Because you are his number one priority.

Soon as this is over, Asta is going straight to the base.

__________________________________________

Once Asta makes it back to the base, he is searching for you. Lucky he runs into Noelle asking where you are. Noelle would say “Y/n is in your room Asta, but she is asleep. She also is recovering from her injuries and a fever. So it’s going to be a slow recovery for a while”. Asta would not even reply to Noelle. He would take off running towards his room.

He would see you laying in his bed, sleep as Noelle said. Your skin is paler than your normal tone. You look almost lifeless while laying there in his bed. It made him more emotional.

Asta begins to wonder the what-ifs. What if you died? What if they were too late? He just got you, he couldn't lose you already. You were his life.

Asta didn’t want to wake you, you needed the sleep. He took the seat next to his bed and watched over you closely. He was angry, sad, and hurt. If he could take all of the pain away from you, he would. He would rather be in your place than you.

Every little sound or little move you would make, he would be alerted instantly.

As much as he would love to be laying next to you in the bed, he chose to stay in the chair. Asta didn't want to make the pressure on your body worse. He’d gradually take you wearing one of his shirts. At least he knew he was still protecting you, keeping you warm.

His demon would be rambling in his head, saying things like “We should have ended that Rin guy’s life. Why did Yami have to intervene?” Asta would push his demon away and not worry about his words. You were the only thing that mattered right now.

Slowly, you would stir and open your eyes to a blurry vision. You spoke softly “Asta?”

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Asta’s ears would perk up and he’d be right there in your line of vision. He’d take your cool hand into his warm one. Stroking it softly, letting you know he was there. Asta spoke, “I’m here princess”.

Asta’s voice is hoarse, from not talking. From being angry. Yet, he is relieved and happy to see that you have opened your pretty eyes. It assures him that you are alive and wasn’t laying in his bed like a corpse.

“Asta are you here?” your voice cracking since you haven’t talked for quite some time. Tears start to form in your eyes, tipping over your beautiful eyelashes. You were hoping that this wasn’t a trick. Your dreams plague with no one but Asta. Sometimes it was just the two of you, happy in love. Others, it was bloodshed that ended with yours or his death.

Asta’s throat is clogged with emotions, his green eyes vibrant and shining with unshed tears.

“I’m here baby, I promise”, Asta says softly. He’d move closer towards you. His hand coming up to palm your cheek and he watches you nuzzle into it. “We got the guy. He’s in the prison cell right now”, he’d tell you.

Your vision starts to get a bit more clear, so you could see Asta better. You could see his eyes were to the point of letting the waterworks fall. You’d sit up in front of him and place both of your hands on his cheeks.

“Asta, I’m so sorry. My head wasn't in the right place. Luck, Magna, and I were somewhat paying attention but not fully. It..it just happened so fast”. You were pouring your emotions out to him. Telling him you were sorry and you didn't mean to get hurt. Knowing you were better than this.

You continued “It’s just what Captain Yami and you talked about before we three left. It got to me. I was thinking that you didn't love me. That you just did this whole thing to prove a point. I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you Asta”.

Asta quickly took your face in his hands. His heart was breaking at the realization that you were essentially hurt because of him. Because of the misunderstanding before you left. Sorrow envelops him to the deepest part of his soul. He will never forgive himself for this.

The pain in his chest felt so sharp, it almost hurt to breathe. Even the demon inside of him was deadly quiet.

Asta spoke, “You got it all wrong Y/n! It was never to prove a point. Captain Yami was being protective over you because we’re squad members”.

With a shaky deep breath, Asta leveled you with a stare that is bright with desperation. He wasn't sure if you’d believe him but he had to try at least.

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“Baby, you are good enough for me. Hell, you are better than me. I am just a commoner chosen by the five-leaf clover. I’m not worthy of your love but I’ll make damn sure to earn it and keep you by my side”, Asta says.

His thumb wipes away your tears. His voice is raw with emotions as he presses his forehead against yours. “I love you. I’m yours until you don't want me anymore. And you're mine. Forever”.

You take your hands off of his cheeks and wrap your sore arms around his neck, closing your eyes. You said “I love you to Asta, I want you forever”, with a smile.

The two of you stayed in this position for a few more minutes. Taking in the moment of finally being the two of you. After everything that had happened with the last few hours.

“I’m sorry I didn't understand and took everything the wrong way. I just care about you and I don't want to lose you. Oh and do not say you are not worthy, you are Asta. You’ve earned every single bit of me. My love, my respect, and my support. All of it”, you declared.

Softly you asked “Babe, can you lay down with me? I’d feel a lot safer if you did. If you can’t I understand”.

Asta is up as soon as those words leave your lips, he’s eager to lay with you, to have you in his arms. He climbs gingerly on the bed, mindful of how sore your body is. Asta scoots closer to your body, relaxing and curling into you once he feels the barest contact of your skin against his.

While he was still angry at himself, he's just happy to have you alive and with him. He truly didn't deserve you. But he loved you too much to let you go. He'll spend the rest of his life proving his worth to you. If he has to.

__________________________________________

“Asta?” you call.

Asta hums when you call his name waiting for a response. His heart accelerates every time you say his name. But he couldn't lie and say this time he wasn't scared about what you had to tell him.

He has to remind himself that you're not going anywhere. He settles on caressing your skin gently, trying to soothe his nerves in the reassurance of you being alive.

“I’m still sorry for ever doubting that you did this to prove a point. I love you truly”, you say. Without realizing it, his rigid body softens once you tell him you love him. Asta didn't realize it but he guessed he was preparing for the worst. But hearing you say those words, makes his heart swell.

“I love you more baby”, he drifts off for a bit but then continues “Don’t apologize. I can see how it sounded bad coming from the captain. He was ominous about it”.

You reply “Yeah I know but I am still kinda to all of this. I just...I don’t know”

You slowly turned around and put your hand on his chest and sighed. “I just want you to be proud of me and I feel like I failed you, I wanted to be better but still”, you tell him.

The more you kept thinking about it the more emotional you got. Tears falling from your eyes. You added, “I do not feel like a magic knight. Everyone else is so much better than me”.

Asta placed his hand over yours. It pained him to hear your cries, hear you put yourself down. He wanted to take it all away. But he knows this is something that you have to deal with on your own. He’d be there for you. Just like you were there for him.

He lets you cry your emotions out. His hand squeezes your hand firmly. When your cries quiet down, he honestly speaks.

Asta says “You know what the squad sees? We see you as one of the best magic knights in our kingdom. You're not here for status but because you want to keep the citizens safe. You’re kind to all, care about the honor of your comrades and you aren't afraid to lead. Not to mention you are powerful. Noelle said you motivate her to keep practicing for control over her magic. Do not get me started on Luck and Magna. If there is anyone they respect more than Captain, it's you. I could go on but my point is, you’re the one everyone looks up to. Myself included. Babe, I am so proud of you. Nothing you could ever do would make me any less proud. If anything, I’ve failed you...and I am deeply sorry for that. But I will never stop making it up to you”.

__________________________________________

“I know you’ll never stop making up for thinking you failed me but in reality, you haven't failed me, Asta. Did you not see what you did? You came the moment you found out that I was in danger and hurt. That's pretty worthy if you ask me”. You say.

You brought his chin down so you could see him better and look into his emerald eyes and asked “How is your demon taking this? Probably fuming”.

Asta’s eyes are solemn when he answers “Angry you’re hurt. Angry you think so low of yourself. But he’s happy to see you’re safe. We both are and that you’re ours”. Which is true. The demon being part of Asta, he took you as his also. If Asta loved you, the demon had to least try and take you in.

You’re shocked but continue to ask “A demon happy to see that I’m safe and that I’m yours? Isn’t that kinda weird? Mean a demon can love? I’m not saying that it can’t but look at us. Don’t be mad at me for questioning”.

Asta shrugs, not at all offended by your questioning. He says “I can't say for sure that he loves you babe. But I do know that he cares about you. He wanted to destroy that Rin guy for hurting you. Your pain and injuries made him restless”.

You spoke, “Well mean he is a part of you so therefore he should care about me. Why did he want to hurt that Rin guy? I just want to learn more about the person I love”. If you were going to be with Asta, then you needed to get to know more about Asta and his demon. Things that he liked and didn't like.

“Because Rin hurt someone dear to the demon and I”, Asta would reply. His eyes darkened. He could tell the demon was under the surface. The demon was scratching to be let out. But Asta kept him at bay, this was not the time to go into a blood lust. He didn't want to scare you in your condition.

Asta stated, “Soon as you are healed up, you can talk to him, princess”.

Asta had to admit, it made him happy that you acknowledged the demon was a part of him. Essentially he was it and it was him. It’s a lifelong bond. It pleased him and the demon greatly that you cared enough to want him and his dark side.

__________________________________________

To avoid his dark-colored eyes, you looked down and spoke “I don't know when that is going to be babe. The doctor has me on bed rest and you know Captain is going to make sure I follow orders. Hell, even when I am healed I still have to wait”. Being stuck in the house killed you. Sure it was to rest up and hell but you still hated it. You were the one to always be outside. Whether it was to train or to just enjoy the outdoors.

Asta tipped your chin, so you could look at him. His eyes were back to his soft shade of green. He saw you were pouting when you told him about having to stay inside. While he did understand your feelings, he couldn't help to find your pouting adorable.

He stated “Hey. I’ll be with you every step of the way alright? I know you don't like the thought of staying in but you need to heal. You’ll be up and ready before you know it. I’ll be right there when you do baby”, ending it with a grin.

You responded, “Yeah, I know you’ll be with me every step of the way”. You smiled up at him and placed your lips against his. You hadn't kissed him in quite some time and you missed the taste of his lips.

Asta grunted into the kiss, kissing you with all of the passion he could muster. He missed your lips just as much, missed the taste of you just as much.

Asta pulled away and said “I heard you’ve been experiencing a sickness along with your wounds. How are you feeling babe?’’, you simply said “Yeah, it just some small infections happened to start before I got them properly cleaned. I am fine now though Asta”.

Asta smiled and nodded before he spoke “If you get to feeling any worse. You better let me know princess”. You nodded your head to give him your response. You’d tell him the moment you started to feel bad.

You took his headband off and put it on the side table next to you, then you looked at him. You said “It’s not time to be a magic knight anymore. It’s time to be a boyfriend and a caregiver if that is okay with you?”

All Asta could do was watch you take his headband off and his adorable smile formed on his face. He brushed your lips with his and spoke “That’s more than okay with me baby. Do you need anything? Name it and I will gladly go and get it for you”. He meant it. Anything that you wanted, he’d make sure to go get it for you.

__________________________________________

“Hmm, could you go get me some water? Then when you get back, can you stay here with me? You know cuddle and protect me”. You simply ask him.

Asta smiles and answers “I'll go and get you some water babe, then when I get back we can cuddle”. He caresses your face, kissing the top of your head. A kiss that was full of promises. Asta said, “I’ll protect you with my life my queen”.

And he would. Asta would die for you if he had to. You were his everything and he was going to take care of you.

Asta kisses you one more time before getting out of bed. It’s not long before he's back with your cup of water and he hands it to you. He waits patiently for you to finish it, once you are he sets it down on the side table. Then he's back in the bed, snuggling into you. He's mindful of your wounds as he drapes one arm around your body. He placed another kiss on your head.

You placed your head on his chest and listened to the beat of his heart, it was slowly playing a lullaby for you to fall asleep. You said, “Nothing else love, I am fine. Just do not leave me unless you have to”.

“I won’t, I promise”, Asta says. The hand that was wrapped around you came up and played with your hair. Helping you fall asleep more.

It felt good with you being in his arms. Asta felt like himself again. No longer angry, frightened, or hurt. He felt...content. Sure you guys will still probably need to talk more. He is sure that you’d want to talk to the demon. Right now, it was just you and him. Nothing else. For that he was grateful.

Asta checked to make sure that you had fallen asleep and you did. His own eyes started to become droopy. He guessed he was tired from all of the stress and fighting. Yet he didn't mind falling asleep knowing you’d be there when he wakes up.

He lets out a yawn while the arm around you tightens up. Asta spoke “I love you, princess, sleep well”, a peaceful smile forms on his face as he falls asleep himself.

[kaylans-imagines]

solare

pairing: peter b. parker x fem! cheerleader! reader

solare: an italian word to describe a person who brightens the room, who is warm, good, and cheerful; who also worries about others. 

Synopsis: in which peter benjamin parker finds the personified version of warmth and happiness.

Peter Parker had endured a lot throughout his life. He had lost his uncle, his life for five years, then he came back, and then lost his mentor. It was a wonder to him and everyone else that he found a way to continue pushing through and fighting the fight for good, even if he at times couldn’t exactly figure out just why he was doing an unpaying job. He would push away those thoughts and remind himself that he did it for the little guy, for the underdog, for the people like him before he got bitten. Still, there were days when the darkness would cloud over his mind, and he would spiral into sadness. 

His Aunt May had suggested he go to a counselling group, someplace where he could express himself without fear of judgement or illwishers. Where he could find people he could relate to and for once have people care for him. He had dismissed that idea by claiming he didn’t have the time to do, too occupied in burying himself with his schoolwork, Spider-Man duties, and keeping up his social life. That was the end of that conversation, but he still couldn’t help but yearn for some type of way to release all the negative emotions that weighed heavily on his mind and his heart. 

He had admittedly been distant from his friends and from his Aunt May, but he couldn’t find it in himself to find something to talk about. He was thrust into a world that he didn’t recognise anymore. It had been five years, and in those five years, people had grown up, and things had changed drastically. Much like the person in the mirror, he didn’t recognise his surroundings when he looked around. He could only hope he wouldn’t drown and get stuck in a flood of uncertainties, in this new time without his mentor to guide him. 

He sighed through his nose as he swung around the lit city, back towards the comfort of his own bedsheets. He couldn’t wait to get lost under the sea of blankets and find comfort in the sounds of the bustling city. Spending all of his life in Queens, he grew accustomed to the yelling, the loud honking of horns, and the busy street life that now offered him solace. A haven. A source of relief he wasn’t able to find elsewhere. The confinements of his blankets and the sounds of New York gave him the ease he needed. 

Assuring his aunt that he was back home and alive, he quickly slipped into his bedroom and snuggled under the covers, relieving himself of the tension he carried. His mind fell into a trance of serenity and easiness as it wandered through happy memories he savoured—recollections of his Uncle Ben, Aunt May, and himself at the beach when he was younger. Uncle Ben and him bonding over ice cream while they walked in Central Park—Peter would point out a dog in the distance, Ben would look at it and then his nephew and chuckle, promising that when they get a bigger home, they will get a dog. He reminded himself of when he helped May with the gardening; it wasn’t much gardening, just a few pots on their balcony, but it was peaceful. 

His life was a routine. Every morning, he would wake up at the same time, have a quick breakfast, kiss his aunt goodbye, and the rush towards the train where he would go to school and meet Ned by his locker. The school day would cease, and he would go to decathlon practise until it was over, then make his way towards Delmar’s, which had re-opened in the five years he was blipped, and then complete the leftover homework he needed to do until he had to go on with his Spider-Man duties. It was the same, except for weekends, every day, and he was okay with that. It helped make his life easier—knowing that there were no surprises or changes in his day-to-day life made it easier for him and helped unburden him from the weight he carried with him. 

The day he met Y/N had been a good day. He hadn’t missed his train that morning; Flash wasn’t up to his usual antics, choosing to ignore him and flirt with an uninterested cheerleader, and he had a good feeling about the History exam in his third period. That was until he stepped into his Physics class and was informed of the new seating chart being projected in front of the class. He and Ned had been able to bypass the seating chart for two quarters already, but they both knew their luck would fizzle out and they would have to be separated. Peter hoped he would get seated with someone he knew, so long as it wasn’t Flash. He would take being a stranger's partner over being Flash’s partner any day. Sighing in relief when he didn’t see his name next to Flash’s, he searched for him on the screen. 

Peter Parker and Y/N Y/L/N, table 08.

Peter wasn’t good at making friends. He tried, but he always came off too strong or not strong enough. He was painfully awkward and stumbled over his words. He would also talk about something no one else was interested in and come off as weird and a ‘nerd’. Over time, he was able to be okay with having one friend, and just recently, his newfound group of friends. To force himself to make small talk with a new person made his stomach churn. He wished he could have May’s social skills and welcoming nature. 

Exhaling to relax the nerves building in his stomach, he made his way towards the table with a paper eight taped on it. It might have been the fact that the window was right beside the table or the fact that Peter hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, but he swore he saw a glow bouncing perfectly off the silhouette seated on the hard stool closest to the window. She was looking out the window, perfectly content on looking at the garden Midtown had decided to grow during the five years half the population was gone. It was a beautiful garden. 

Shuffling on his feet, he dragged himself to the seat next to the seemingly glowing girl with intentions of sitting down without making noise, not to pull her from her gaze, but the universe had other plans. His toe met the stool’s hard metal, making the girl snap out of her daze and look at Peter with mild surprise. He was fully expecting her to lash out at him, to ask him why he needed to make so much noise, and he was fully ready to apologise. But the questioning never came, and neither did his need to apologise. Instead, he was met with a warm smile and concerned eyes.

“Are you okay? That sounded like it hurt,” she spoke with a lightness in her tone he had never heard before. New Yorker’s were usually brash and straight to the point; there was no place for airiness or lightness in voices. They didn’t care about anyone else but themselves and their loved ones. To feign importance in the busy city, one had to speak with importance. She was a breath of fresh air to him, like the feeling of the seaspray on his face when he steps into the ocean. Around her, he felt at peace. 

“I-I’m Parker, no,” he stumbled over his words and mentally cursed himself, “I’m Peter.” This was the part where people would smile at him with fake sincerity, shake his hand, and make some excuse to leave. He was waiting for her to look at him with judgement and refuse to shake his hand. He wasn’t expecting her to take his hand into hers and shake it with a giggle. 

“Next to meet you, Parker Peter. I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” she introduced. She drew him in by the way she stared at him, so deeply and with intrigue, and kept him wanting more of her presence in the way she spoke, with confidence but kindness. He was sure this was someone he needed in his life, someone he had to keep around. She was like the sun, and the sky rolled in one, someone he couldn’t help but stare at. 

They shared shy smiles, sneaking glances now and then. Peter couldn’t focus on his teacher’s rambling, too entranced by the body sitting beside him. From the corner of his eye, he could see her scribbling in her notebook, following along with what the teacher was saying. He could see little drawings on the corner of her paper; small hearts, smiley faces, and infinity signs taking up the corner. The sight of the doodles filled his heart with warmth; they were adolescent like and riddled with innocence. They were endearing, just like her. 

The class seemed to drag on, and Peter was barely able to keep up. His mind was in another world; thoughts of protecting the city after homework to what he would have for dinner. A small part was thinking of the pretty girl who doodled on the corners of her papers. She had drawn a small smiley face on his paper at one point and sent him a smile when he looked at her afterwards. She had made a long class, that usually felt like it dragged on, shorter and yearning for more time. If anything, just to sit there and be in her presence. 

The bell signalled the ending of the class, and Peter slowly stood up. He packed his belongings as slowly as he could. He looked to the side; she put her books into her bag - they were all colourful and decorated with glittery and bubble stickers. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She sent him a smile and stood up from her chair, pushing her chair in slowly. 

“Bye, Parker Peter. See you, next class,” she said sweetly with a wave and exited the class, a happy and light bounce to her step. He watched her leave. Her hair bounced and glossed under the school’s fluorescent lights, and her skirt sashayed behind her. He watched as she waved and greeted people before she disappeared from his view. He didn’t stand a chance with the pretty girl in his chemistry class. 

Ned bounded towards him, talking his ear off about what his partner did and how he was so glad he had someone who wouldn’t make him do all the work. Peter, at that moment, felt like a bad friend. He wanted to listen to his best friend, keep a conversation going. But all of him kept him from doing so, instead directing his thoughts towards the popular, bubbly girl who was now surrounded by her loads of friends at her locker. Peter smiled her way, not expecting it to be returned, but to his surprise, she smiled back and raised her hand with a little wave. He took the time to peak into her locker. He could see pictures and magnets lining up the area; permeating the dull grey with life and personality. He also made out the neatly folded cheerleader uniform resting on the top shelf. Of course, he would have to start crushing on an unattainable cheerleader. 

He had no choice but to settle for crushing on her and wanting her from a distance. He figured that simply being an acquaintance to her would be enough. It would be enough. Being in her life would be just fine. It was a sad thought, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t gone through before. The thought made his heart hurt, but that was also coupled with the thoughts he had already harboured—memories of his past, he and his uncle, of Tony. Those kept him up at night and clouded his thinking whenever he swung building to building.

That night was the same; he sat on top of his apartment building, taking in the changing scenery. The lack of stars once brought him comfort, but he found recently that they brought him more pain. Normally, he loved the vastness of the wide space and how little they knew about it. He would let his imagination run wild with possibilities of everything in the unknown. When he was younger, he liked to imagine there were aliens up there, living happily without care. He would divulge in that from time to time, feeding his inner child. He loved the tenacity, the freedom, and the serenity of it all. But the same things made him feel small. It put everything into perspective. It put into perspective how small he was. Sometimes, he couldn’t help but feel as if there was no escape. 

He sat on the edge of the building, taking in all the different personalities the city below him had to offer. Couples cuddled up with one another, walking into their shared homes. Families laughing with one another as they finished their night. Friends walked with one another, whispering in ears and cackling to drown the cars and taxis’ noise. That was the city he loved. The city he grew up in. But that didn’t stop him from wanting an escape. Somewhere far from the city where he could simply sit and think without the distractions. He knew that was wishful thinking, but it didn’t cost a thing to dream.

Choosing to end the night earlier than usual, he stood up from his place and swung forward. Aunt May wouldn’t be home, so dinner wouldn’t be ready until she got there. He considered going to Delmar’s; having one of his sandwiches always made him feel better. Something stopped him, though. Maybe it was the sound of a laugh, one he had heard before, or the familiar satin blue scrunchie that rested on her wrist. He watched her, talking on the phone and laughing and throwing her hands up in the air. He quickly averted his eyes, staring at her for too long was weird even if he was Spider-Man.

That night he slept better than usual. Aunt May had found him asleep on his bed with his arm hanging off the mattress, his body slanted, and his head hanging off to the side with his mouth wide open. While it was an awkward position, she was glad he was sleeping so early in the night. The years had been rough on him, pushing past his limits and stressing him beyond belief. He was overdue for a break, and a long one. But she knew her nephew; he would never take a break. The city of Queens needed him.

While he normally dreaded going to school, not because he had to pay attention, or because it was hard, but because for seven hours, the city of Queens was left defenceless and at mercy. But, this day was different. There was a spring in his step and an easy smile on his face, not even Flash’s taunting got to him. Walking into the chemistry classroom, his eyes roamed the classroom until they landed on his new table. She was already sitting there. Scribbling on her glittery notebook with a blue pen adorned with a fuzzy top. 

Settling down next to her, she sent him a smile, “good morning, Mister Peter,”

He laughed, “Good morning, Miss Y/N,”

Peter was left yearning for more interactions with the gorgeous cheerleader with the fun pens, especially after she gave him a sticker with a golden retriever on it; it was an adorable puppy with its paw out and licking, what he presumed, was glass. She had told him it was because he reminded her of a puppy, most notably a golden retriever puppy. Her words had made him flush and sputter over himself, nearly causing him to injure his hand on the bunsen burner set in front of them. She giggled and gave him another sticker; it was a simple smiley face that he put on his notebook next to the golden retriever. 

She had bitten the bullet one day and invited him to a football game, one against Midtown’s rival school. Peter had been to football games before, having been in marching band, but that was before he was Spider-Man. A high school football game wouldn’t fit in his schedule, but the way she asked him and looked at him with an expectant and hopeful grin had him saying yes. So, he did what any sane person would do, and said yes. She squealed and wrapped her arms around him, taking him but surprise and let go of his neck. She gave him another sticker that day, one with a teddy bear holding a red heart in its centre.

That’s how he found himself sitting in the uncomfortable metal bleachers next to Ned and MJ, who insisted on coming but wasn’t paying attention, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to block out the cold. While Ned was focused on the football game happening before them, and MJ was engrossed in her book, Peter found himself staring at the seemingly glowing cheerleader chanting out cheers and praises. He watched as she threw her pompoms up and waved them around when Midtown presumably made a touchdown and huffed in exasperation when they didn’t.

The final buzzer went off, knocking Peter from his trance. Ned and MJ were getting up from their seats and making their way down the bleachers making Peter scramble to catch up. They waited for him, rather impatiently as Ned was tapping his foot and MJ was patting her book, and he rushed towards them. He stopped when a small body in a blue and gold outfit stood in front of him, a grin on her face and her pompoms resting on her duffle bag. He locked eyes with Ned who gave him a thumbs up and pushed an unimpressed MJ away from the fence. 

“Parker! You came! Did you have fun?” she asked, her words rushed and fast as she could barely contain her excitement. Peter chuckled and nodded his head, wanting nothing more than to hug her. To help her calm down, of course. She took him by surprise, a common theme, by wrapping her arms around him and snuggling into his chest. He was glad she couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating, but it was in overdrive. He thought that his senses had dialled up to one hundred when he was bitten, but it was nothing compared to how they were at that moment. She had a control over him that he never thought anyone would have. But he was glad it was her and not anyone else.

“What d’ya say Parky? You wanna go on a stroll?” Peter looked down at her and nodded his head. He hadn’t heard a word of what she said, too distracted by her beauty and the way her arms felt around him. She was the warmth on a cold day; hot cocoa under a blanket of snow, and the sunset after a nice day on the beach. She was someone Peter wanted in his life when things got to be too difficult for him to manage, and when he was at his highest because he knew she would only send him to the moon.

He waved goodbye to Ned and MJ, Y/N did too, promising to listen to Ned’s new LEGO purchase the following Monday, and watched as MJ’s car pulled away from the curb. She took his hand into hers and dragged him towards her car. She unlocked it before motioning for him to get in, throwing her bag into the backseat and starting the engine. He couldn’t help but glance around the car. Stickers decorated the dash in front of him; he was sitting in pink seat cover with the letters ‘TPWK’ stitched on it in white, and her steering wheel was decorated with a big sunflower. It was so unapologetically her, and that made Peter smile. 

In the time Y/N drove, Peter texted May and let her know he would be out late. He was met with a ‘good riddance! Stay safe :)’ in response. Peter watched the streetlights pass by as Y/N drove through the city and past city limits. For once in his life, since he was a child, he let himself be free and enjoy the scenery night brought. He was bummed that the city filled the night sky with smog because he really wanted to appreciate the beauty of the stars and the moon. He wanted to see her under the moonlight because he knew without a doubt that she looked even more gorgeous. He had been so distracted by his thoughts, that for once didn’t make him want to hide under a heap of blankets, that he hadn’t noticed she stopped the car. She hadn’t said anything; she just watched him. He was at peace, and that was all she wanted him to be.

Peter opened his eyes and looked ahead. He could see the city in the distance, the lights on in buildings, and with his super hearing, he could hear the city’s faint sounds. She cleared her throat and pointed up, her moon roof was open and exposed the glittering sky above them. He stared at it in awe. He knew they were far from the city, but he hadn’t realised how far, far was until he saw unfamiliar glistening above him. She watched him with soft eyes, smiling at his bafflement and wonder. It didn’t need to be said, but she knew he needed this moment. 

In the months that followed the switching of seats in chemistry class, she noticed things about him. The bags under his eyes that covered his freckles, the tired and subtle yawns, and the rushing of homework that was due the next period. She didn’t know why he was always tired, but something in her told her it was important. The bigger part of her told her that she needed to do something for him, something to distract him and ease his mind. So, she brought him to her spot outside of the city, to do what she did best. She stared at the moon and let her mind run with what it would be like to live in space and reside on the moon.

“You see that pattern up there; I call it the Huntress,” she pointed towards Orion, “stories of the stars are always about men, and the stories about women are always depicted as helpless. It makes me feel better knowing that a woman is the hunter in the stars, even if it is just in my mind.” Peter nodded along. He wanted to hear more. So, she told him her versions on the stars. He let himself get lost in her words, inching closer towards her over the console. She paused her story and motioned up towards the moon roof. He climbed out first and helped her, the two of them settling on top of her car.

She continued her story on the twins, the two of them leaning on one another. Peter felt all his inhibitions and everything holding him back let go and get lost in the night sky. That night he didn’t think of all he lost, of everything he had endured; that night he thought of the sunshine sitting next to him and how he would be okay in the face of peril, so long as he had her by his side. His personal cheerleader. He thought of the way her lips felt on his and the giggle that erupted from her soft lips; about how they tasted like pomegranate. 

In her, he found himself walking on the sun’s rays and being hugged by warmth. For once, he didn’t stare at the sun with anger; instead, he basked in her warmth because the warmth enveloped him. 

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[romioneficfest]

Bottom of the Bottle

Title: Bottom of the Bottle

Prompt/Day: fire whiskey + angst

Tumblr name: 

Rating: PG-15 / T

Brief summary: He’s been search for the answer in firewhiskey but it’s never been there.

Any possible triggering/warning tags: drinking

Without asking Ron downed the glass that had been placed in his hands and fought against sputtering as the warmth trickled down his throat. It wasn’t enough. This day, this week, ever since they’d buried his brother and gone on with the endlessness of after it hadn’t been enough. The bitter cold of winter was nothing in comparison to this. His brother had died. His friends. His mentors. All dead and what use was he still here.

“Another,” Ron demanded, thrusting out his glass and he wasn’t sure who tipped the bottle towards him.

Always the same. Ever since Hermione had left for her parents and Harry had run off to clear his head leaving him stuck waiting for them to come back. It was the only thing that helped, Firewhiskey. Only lately it never seemed to work quite right.

“Please,” he muttered, thrusting out his glass towards the table of strangers who would be his friend only for tonight.

They were looking at him with morbid curiosity. He wondered if they knew his name. If he was living up to his new reputation. Pretty soon they’d be asking him.

Are you that Weasley?

And then he’d get pissed because they were all that Weasley in their own fucked up way. The not a Werwolf. The dragon tamer. The prodigal son. The no longer a twin. The chosen-one’s lover.

What was he in that line up? Perhaps he should just go home. But he was out of the good stuff and  that was why he demanded their company for two rounds more.

It was nearly midnight when he spotted her. So drunk he was half convinced she was an illusion. But his illusion’s hands never felt so warm going around his neck and never smelled so perfectly Hermione. Then again his memories of her were usually more cross and less kind when they whispered in his ear,

“It’s time to go.”

He looked at her, expecting to be reprimanded but her exhausted features were somehow worse of a punishment. Obediently he rose to his feet and after a brief scuffle with his chair and an even longer battle with the sleeves of his cloak he followed her, sulking, out the door.

The summer air should have been warm, the sticky heat of August, but even with the dementors banished the air was still frigid. Their bundled up looks were the pinnacle of fashion in Hogsmeade these days.

It wasn’t a long walk. And he was well practiced in stumbling home, his lips reeking of cinnamon. As they approached the entrance to his and Harry’s rented room, Hermione fished the key from his pocket before he had the chance to fumble with it and waited for him to race up the stairs before she shut the door behind them.

He was still bracing himself for the lecture. For the sigh and the cold shoulder.

In truth he was just counting down the days until she finally realized what he’d known for a long time. He wasn’t enough for her. This was all he was worth. He tried fumbling with the buttons of his cloak as she entered the kitchen but it was useless. His fingers fat and frigid.

When at last she entered, carrying a glass of water she looked at him appeasingly.

He wanted to lash out and he didn’t know why.

Instead her soft voice whispered, “let me help.”

Before he could push her away her nimble fingers had undone the mis-buttoned mess and when she pushed it from his shoulders, her fingers brushed against his skin and for a moment the numbness dissipated.

“Sit down.” She requested of him and he obliged, letting his cloak pool around him.

He reached for her hand and the soft warmth of her fingers had the same radiating effect. They fell into the chair, her weight warm and welcome. This was the feeling he’d been searching for at the bottom of every bottle.

“I’m sorry,” he slurred, breathing her in.

“What’s wrong?” she begged and for the first time her face betrayed her emotions. Sadness, fear. Not of him but for him. “Why are you-?”

He supposed she’d heard the rumors. Last weekend it’d been a fist fight that had left them both with shining eyes. The week before a ban from the Three Broomsticks that Madame Rosmerta hadn’t had the heart to enforce.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered again helplessly.

Finally, pity. “I wish you didn’t.”

“It’s the only thing that helps,” he tried. “It takes away the edge of all this shit.”

The temporary sobering of the cold was fading with his vision. And for the first time that night he didn’t want it. Didn’t want the world to be blurred. Didn’t want the only sound to be his heart pounding. He wanted to be here, with her.  

“Kiss me,” he begged although he had no right to ask it of her in this state.

But of course she obliged. She was what he’d been yearning for after all. Hermione’s lips were tender against the corner of his mouth and he did not dare demand more. This was a gift. It was all he needed.

“I really missed you,” he whispered against her skin.

“I miss you,” she echoed, brushing back his dirty hair and gave another apprising look. “I missed you so much I could hardly stand it.”

And he couldn’t help the insecurity that slipped from his lips. “Did you?”

If he’d been sober perhaps he could have made the words teasing but he wasn’t.

“More than I can put into words,” she assured him and with every brush of her fingers he felt it again, the warmth.

“Don’t go away again,” he asked although he had no right to.

Yet she rewarded him with a little smile, kissing his temple and he could feel himself trembling.

“Not without you.”