#and the way i got HUMBLED by one brave person and now i thank them for it!

[evansbby]

yo 😂😂😂

[therealslimshakespeare]

Dear John | Part 2

Masters of the Air Fanfiction

Series Summary: Major John Egan wasn’t the pen-pal sort but a couple of hours into a dark night full of writing condolence letters he finds himself wondering why he never tried his hand at the nicer forms of correspondence. Who better to reanimate his numb inspiration than the glamorous Miss Lana Tierney? -the army’s girl next door, the pinup so prolific she was practically a wall paper print and Bucky’s long-standing cinematic crush. It’s not like she’ll read it anyways. Right? Right.

Warnings: suggestive language, crass vocabulary, the vintage form of sexting -honestly this is mostly fluffy in reply to his more overt letter

Author’s note: after episode four I’ve got feelings and fics for this universe that are far ahead of these establishing pieces. So I’ve gone ahead and tossed this preliminary one out but I may very well skip around and ahead to October next. At least now y’all know: she wrote him back. Hehe. If it’s of interest, I’ll probably end up writing John’s reaction to receiving this response as well as Gale’s response to realizing his friend actually went and sent that awful thing.

Date: Early August, 1943

Dear John, (I’m sorry Major Egan, I just had to)

Thank you for your kind letter of the 18th. It’s been many years since I received so delightful a correspondence or so candid an expression of admiration. And you should know I keep most of the letters the sweet people of this country send me. They’re stacked in quite an orderly fashion in my various garages, kept for the rainy days to peruse and keep the blues away and also so I might try very hard to reply. I don’t take such affection for granted. It’s humbling really, always has been, to be so loved by folks but it’s another level entirely to be singled out by someone as brave and impressive as yourself.

I found your letter to be heartfelt and wonderfully brave and in an effort to be equally transparent, you should know that when I finished it I clutched it to my breast and whispered half a dozen prayers for you. Or as you might say, I held it to my knockers.

That’s an awful word, you must know that Major.

As is “rack”, for that matter, but I’ve a sneaking suspicion that you would make it sound charming as even your blotted paper was electric. How could you dare to praise my film set flapjacks and mention making babies? I’m fizzing just glancing at it. You really must be quite the fella and I’m terribly sad now that our rendezvous, such as you say it was, got cut short. You must reprimand your friend -Buck, is it?- and tell him he did an bad deed that night. There’s nothing I like better than duets and hamburgers, we might’ve been one of the great loves by now if he hadn’t meddled. But don’t be too hard on him, if he’s the sort to take it well, kiss him for me, after you chide him.

But since we are being honest, I must admit, reading your letter, being privy to your thoughts, seeing myself through your eyes as it were - dear man, I feel rather riled. Quite riled, in fact. Why, I haven’t felt riled in a while, not like this. Not like an ordinary girl with an extraordinary boy. Do you know what I mean?

Maybe you don’t.

I mean regular, old fashioned flustered. That’s what you’ve made me. And thank you for that, John. Can I call you Johnny? I wonder if you’re the nickname sort, or if you’re real stern and serious, a real John-John. Not a Johnny at all. But either way, I think you deserve a treat, for being so nice, Major Egan. For reminding me I can feel my pulse somewhere besides my wrists before a show -and for all you’re doing in the war, besides. There seems to be no safer hands to trust this to, you do seem so very fond of them, I am led to believe you’d be protective of them, too.

Enclosed is something for the personal morale, I hope you’ll think of me nightly with it at hand, in fact, I’m so excited about it I’ve taken this ill advised measure to insure you do. I’d very much like a report, do they live up to your expectations? They’re homegrown, after all, I hadn’t much say in them but now I’ve got them, I don’t see why they shouldn’t do their bit to keep you alive. A small sacrifice.

One of those reasons you mentioned, John, you’ve so many of them, more than you know. A million souls over here rooting you on, insisting you make it out the other side.

I’m forefront among them, I’ll be scanning the crowd when I come to Europe -because I will, at your invitation. Perhaps if you send me a picture of your own mug I won’t be looking a fool asking every man in uniform if I remind them of an acorn. Are you going to tell me what on earth that means? I’ve tried to work it out but I always end up with some mathematical conundrum and I just know in my heart of hearts you wouldn’t let me down like that, would you Major? It’s something awfully salacious, isn’t it? Please let it be!

I’m a vain little thing and I can’t deny the way this poor heart of mine is all pitter pattering at the thought of you being so awful while also so nice. It’s a strange blend, and rather like my coke, I do prefer my men mixed.

Best wishes, may you have cloudless skies and fresh coffee to your heart's content. My sources -and I’ve excellent ones, an upside of working the war bond circuit- tell me you’re airforce. I think that’s remarkable and I hope you give that picture some thought. Mine, and yours.

Your vain little friend,

Julia Jean Turner

P.S.-I’m only ever ‘The Lana Tierney ‘ to strangers, and we aren’t strangers now, are we? not if you’re to take my picture to your bunk. i suspect you may have already taken that liberty. who’s to say I did not take similar liberties upon reading certain stirring passages of your letter? Xx 💋

__insert vintage titty pic__

Whew this week was a doozy wasn’t it? Here’s some fluff for those of y’all who needed it, and I can promise angst soon for those who want to stay in the soul shattering mood. Hope you enjoy. Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, let me hear your screams.

Drop a comment to let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my MOTA fics. Xo

Taglist:

@stylespresleyhearted

@ab4eva

@earth-to-lottie

@suraemoon

@blurredcolour

@steph-speaks

@crazymadpassionatelove

@rubyfruitjungle

@taestrwbrry

[otomiyaa]

Top 23 of 2023

Top 23 of 2023 on Tumblr is out and it made me remember something....!!! For those who also remember, I started this game last year and I just thought it would be nice to do it again. For reference, my post is ofc long gone, but here's Mia's~~

Tagging: @ticklygiggles & Everyone who wants to do it lol

Part 1: Fandom Faves 

01. Favorite new fandoms of the year: Red, White & Royal Blue, Honkai Star Rail

02. Favorite new ships since this year: Henry x Alex (RWRB) Sampo x Gepard (HSR), Ballister x Ambrosius (Nimona)

03. Favorite anime/TV shows of the year: Atarashii Joushi wa Do Tennen, Our Flag Means Death Season 2, Niehime to Kemono no Ou

04. Favorite movies of the year: Red White and Royal Blue, Nimona

05. Favorite characters of the year: Furina!!!! (Genshin Impact), also Gepard Landau (Honkai Star Rail), Miguel O'Hara (Across the Spiderverse), and a big honorable mention to the Fontaine gang in Genshin Impact (especially Freminet and Neuvillette)!

06. Favorite soundtrack of the year: Genshin Impact - Fontaine soundtrack and the Our Flag Means Death Season 2 soundtrack

07. Favorite book/manga/comic of the year: The Work Love Balance manhwa, and RWRB which is older but I discovered it thanks to the movie coming out.

08. Favorite games of the year: Genshin Impact, still my fav^^

09. Highlight of this year to remember: Bowuigi trending as a ship.

Part 2: Community Review

10. Favorite Tumblr moments of 2023: Tickletober with the very own list Mia and I created, and even though it was a negative thing at first - getting swarmed with kind words from you guys after I lost my blog. I'm a mere humble person but you guys seriously made me feel a little important for a moment there ^///^

11. Favorite fan art of the year: Hard to say, but I'll say this sampard piece I got from Val baby for my bday, and this Ukatake commission by @dokidoki-muffin, this spiderdads commission by @giulscomix, and this Ittorou commission by @chibimochii have also stolen my heart!

And ofc all other commissions of this year (the bowuigi one fs;ijogij; and miguel one omggg, the pokemon commission so CUTE). And *wiggles fingers* I have more on the way....

12. Favorite fic of the year: Hard to say but I've been enjoying a lot of the Tickletober works specifically by @lovelynim and @ticklygiggles, and also this Nimona fic by @bambinella has become a fav, and all RWRB fics by @kourtniwritesagain!!!!! I still need to reblog them here.

13. Favorite ask game of the year: I can't remember which ones I played, but I remember there was a time I had reblogged "post your anonymous confessions" or something, and it resulted in the most interesting asks and conversations with you guys^^ I liked that.

14. My top achievements as a writer/artist/creator/blogger: If I'll be around in a year, this won't be 'writer' but 'blogger', but for this one as a writer, it'll again be completing all 31 days of tickletober right on schedule despite a minor intervention.. :"D

15. My own best fic/post of the year: I have no idea! But if I ask AO3, it answers that my best fic of this year is my bowuigi fic mahahaha (based on kudos btw).

16. My most underappreciated fic/post of the year: Let's give that award to these 2 poor Tickletober fics (which I enjoyed writing a lot) that were not reblogged by anyone meaning they are no longer on Tumblr since my account loss:

Day 21: Horns/Fangs | Sariphi x Leonhart, King of Beasts (Niehime to Kemono no Ou) 

Day 23: Party | Momose x Shirosaki (Atarashii Joushi wa Do Tennen) 

17. A post of mine that got more popularity than expected: My comeback post! The comments, likes and even reblogs, I couldn't have ever imagined.

18. Something I changed on my blog since this year: You tell me 😂 No but besides the whole blog change, another change is that I got over my embarrassment and was brave enough to commission a couple of artists this year. Me and my money are now in a happy place!

Part 3: Next Year

19. Something I didn’t post this year but would like to do next year: A fic recommendations/faves post (from other writers). Wonder if I'll ever get to it, since my reading and fic reblogging is already not what I like it to be, meaning that every fic I reblog would probably belong on that list lol. But alright, I'd like to make a faves of the faves list then.

20. Goals for next year: Read more...!!! Read more books, more manga, more webtoons, more tickle fics. I love them, so I should read more! My truest ambition.

21. 2024 releases I look forward to the most: Every single update for Genshin Impact and Honkai Star Rail, and also: Spider-Man: Beyond the Spider-Verse, Inside Out 2, Deadpool 3, Venom 3, Kimi ni Todoke S3, and Beastars Final Season!

22. Something else I look forward to next year: Traveling to Japan with my boyfriend! Also: receiving more tickles cuz why not. And last but not least, seeing Taylor Swift live at the Eras Tour in Amsterdam!

Part 4: Spreading Love

23. Shoutouts to people who made my 2023 a better year: I know, and you might know, I didn't do so well last time since I tagged a bunch of friends but also forgot to mention some... not because I didn't care about them but because I am a flopper. So to prevent this embarrassment I won't mention any names this time.

I especially would like to thank everyone who is still around, who is reading this, who followed my new blog. To be honest, on my old blog I felt flattered to have so many followers but I was also aware it was the effect of being active for 7 years in a ton of fandoms, and that it didn't say anything about the accurate number of people appreciating what I was posting.

But to be at already almost 500 followers on this blog? Where I only post shit? Now that's a compliment I will gladly accept. Thank you to all of you for the support!

Last but not least, special shoutout to the friends I talk to on Discord sooo much now, you know who you are!

Question list for copy paste below!

Part 1: Fandom Faves 

01. Favorite new fandoms of the year

02. Favorite new ships since this year 

03. Favorite anime/TV shows of the year 

04. Favorite movies of the year

05. Favorite characters of the year

06. Favorite soundtrack of the year

07. Favorite book/manga/comic of the year

08. Favorite games of the year

09. Highlight of this year to remember

Part 2: Community Review

10. Favorite Tumblr moments of 2023

11. Favorite fan art of the year

12. Favorite fic of the year

13. Favorite ask game of the year

14. My top achievements as a writer/artist/creator/blogger

15. My own best fic/post of the year

16. My most underappreciated fic/post of the year

17. A post of mine that got more popularity than expected

18. Something I changed on my blog since this year

Part 3: Next Year

19. Something I didn’t post this year but would like to do next year

20. Goals for next year

21. 2024 releases I look forward to the most

22. Something else I look forward to next year

Part 4: Spreading Love

23. Shoutouts to people who made my 2023 a better year

[burritosandpeppermint]

It was quite customary for Noelle and I to have buttons on our bags in San Francisco. When we moved to Chicago I rearranged a lot and had a bunch of pins and buttons going, mostly like the above and also a lot of bands that I've loved. But over time some of them would lose their backing or unclasp and I'd have to re-do them, or re-buy them if they were gone for good. Eventually out of frustration I just took all of them off and moved a few to a different part of my bag that didn't seem to suffer the same abuse.

I've had them like this for a few months now, and they've stayed on, so that's good, but lately I've been wondering if I should take them off, if I'm really just doing ally theater by even having them, even if my support is real in my heart, and in my monthly donations.

And then yesterday when I was waiting to cross a street a younger person came up to me and said "Hey, I like your buttons." I was thrilled and I beamed and I said "Thank you!" in the most happy/humble way, almost gushing and blushing.

So, yeah, I'll keep them, because it matters. That may have been one brave or outspoken person out of who knows how many who actually looked at my bag and saw what was there. I hope that more people know that there are allies, or those of us who want to be good allies, out there, and I guess the best way to do that, and to piss off bigots, is to display that you love and care for marginalized people.

(Side note: I kept kicking myself for not telling that person where I got them, so on the very off chance that this post becomes magical:

The progress pride and Black Lives Matter buttons were from Women & Children First, an awesome feminist and children (but also kinda general) bookstore in Andersonville. I love it.

The Pro Choice button is from Tiny Werewolves, which I would really suggest you peruse, especially if you have pets.

The It's Okay To Punch A Nazi button was from an Etsy shop that is now closed, but it's not too difficult to find some variation on that theme.)

[aafrillia]

DAY 1: DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY

Do you think when describing one’s personality, it should be someone else’s job who seems to know that person?

It can be true, but now I’d like to describe my personality on my own as I believe that we have to know ourselves better, so this is the way I’m learning about myself.

When talking about personality, we think of the way someone behaves around people. But I think it can be more because I know for sure that personality is to be made. I don’t mean we’re faking, but it’s more like we act differently depending on the situation we’re in or people we talk with.

In that case, I’d like to describe myself based on the MBTI test and questions as references.

Let’s start with the MBTI test result I just got. It’s said that my personality type is INFJ-T (Advocate), which is not so surprising because I almost always get the same result every time I take the test. Never start with E, because I am a certified introvert.

The results describe my personality in several categories, but I will focus on the personality traits only. I’m well aware that I’m an introvert, but to get into details of my personality thoroughly is still quite daunting. I believe the traits and numbers are kind of different from my previous MBTI test result, so it’s surprising that this one feels more accurate than the last.

Energy: No doubt that I prefer keeping my circle small and meaningful rather than having a big group of friends, given how easily social interaction can drain my energy.

Mind: To say that I’m intuitive can be an overstatement, but I want to confidently proclaim I’m an open-minded person; I’m not afraid of having uncomfortable conversations.

Nature: Being sensitive is not really pleasant because you often prioritize someone else’s feelings first over yours, but I guess that is part of me that I should be proud of.

Tactics: I can’t say I’m a 100% organized person, but I definitely value structured planning over spontaneity. Though sometimes I can be spontaneous too.

Identity: I’m all that in the description; self-conscious, sensitive to stress, success-driven, perfectionistic, and eager to improve.

I believe the result doesn’t show the whole picture of my personality, which I think doesn’t represent me the best. So let’s try to ask some deep personal questions for myself.

I will choose several questions that I think can describe me well as a person.

What’s the one thing you would like to change about yourself? I would like to be more comfortable about myself, be more confident, and be more humble. Ah! I wanna change my spending habits too, LMAO.

What kind of parent do you think you will be? To put this question here may be irrelevant, but me now and me in the future as a parent wouldn’t be as far. I wish I could be a loving parent who provides and nurtures my children in the best way possible; becoming their best example of being a decent human and doing things properly, so as to give them a decent environment to live and grow.

Are you confrontational? I am not brave enough to confront someone first because I am worried of offending that person.

What would your best friend say is your best quality? Probably ‘understanding’.

What or who would you sacrifice your life for? My family, especially Ibu and Ayah.

What do you hope you grow out of? I hope I can grow out of taking things personally and overly self-critical.

What brings you the most joy in life? Little things such as moving my body along with the music, listening to music I’m currently obsessed with, watching cats, crocheting, spending time with my family, helping others though it may be small, seeing my students do well in their classes bring me joy in life.

When was the last time you really panicked? It’s when my mother had her first seizure. I’ve never been scared in my whole life, but when I saw my mother lose control of her body, it was terrifying. Thank God, my mother is getting better now. I hope it never happens again. Aamiin.

Do you lose your temper easily? I don’t think so, but sometimes when I am in a low mood or PMS, I will probably snap, LMAO. It’s not often, okay? Compared to my teenage years, I’ve become much better at managing my temper now in my adult life. Rather than getting angry, I choose to step away and be alone to manage my emotions (re: cry myself to sleep).

What qualities do you admire in others? Honesty and humility.

I hope through these questions, they can show and describe my personality better.

[loveephia]

you as inarizaki's beautiful manager..

↳ nekoma ver. | shiratorizawa ver.

fukurodani ver. | aoba johsai ver.

- inarizaki literally holds the title of being the 2nd strongest vb team in the entire nation

- if that doesn't scare you, IDK ANYMORe

- you could trip, and they'd probably snicker at you 😭😭

- anyway, you kinda just joined the team so that you have something to add to your resumé

- everyone is thrilled

- you know some of the players since they're quite popular

- kita is so handsome

- suna just has this deadpan expression on his face. scary.

- "i'm sure you already know who i am." atsumu, no

- "hey, m'osamu." at least he had the decency to humbly introduce himself, unlike his twin

- aran is an absolute sweetheart

- you're one of the very few people he respects on this team.

- ren also had a deadpan expression, but he did nod at you, so that's something

- kita is so handsome

- AKAGI WELCOMED YOU WITH OPEN ARMS

- you are now bffls aka best friends for life 🤞🤞

- ginjima thinks you're brave for managing such a fiery team, so you've automatically earned his respect

- riseki wants to talk to you, but you're so pretty that he's afraid he'll mess up his own sentences 😭

- kosaku gives you two thumbs up of encouragement because this year is going to be hectic for you

- kita is so handsome

- practice starts, and you're still learning the reigns, not really speaking all that much since you're quick introduction a while ago

- you're drying their bibs, taking down notes for when's their next practice match, refilling water bottles

- ya know, all that stuff

- why are there so many STRAYS

- you swear you're getting some sort of arthritis from the number of times you had to bend down and pick up a ball

- yeah, so as it turns out, the 2nd years were doing this on purpose

- they wanted to talk to you 😔

- EVEN SUNA

- MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T SO MYSTERIOUS AND PRETTY THEY WOULDN'T BE DOING THIS!!

- one of these strays actually happened to hit you in the face

- courtesy of atsumu 🙂

- osamu has waited for this moment all of his life

- (for atsumu to look like a bumbling fool in front of a pretty girl)

- that's one thing crossed off of his bucket list, that's for sure

- of course, with atsumu's enormous amount of pride, he blames it on you

- "WHY WERE YOU JUST STANDIN' THERE?!" in your defence, you were literally on the sidelines reading about the rules of volleyball. how was any of this your fault??

- kita gives him a sharp glare, almost as if he's scolding him, and what happens next is like magic

- he managed to get THE atsumu miya to quietly mumble a "sorry." TO YOU.

- and so you continue on with your day!!

- you didn't scold him

- now me personally,

- joking

- practice is finally over, and it's dark out

- you usually walk home as soon as school is over, but since you stayed behind a couple of hours helping out the team, you're sceptical of walking alone

- kita, sensing your uneasiness, offers to walk with you

- you love him so much you just want to bite his cheeks cuteness aggression

- you oblige, and it just so happens that the miya twins are heading the same way you are!!

- suna and aran see them and catch up

- "don't you live all the way in the other neighborho—?"

- "shut up, suna—!"

- so, now you're walking home with five bodyguards!! which was literally just what you needed

- they make a quick stop at a convenience store, and atsumu buys you a popsicle

- "consider it as an.." come on 'tsumu SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE

- "apology fer hitting you earlier."

- you smile, accepting the peace offering. "thank you."

- YOU SMILED.

- FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER TODAY.

- atsumu pretty much froze on the spot there, literally taken aback from how pretty your smile is

- dude, you got even the other boys staring at you

- you think it's a bit creepy, though.

- "oi, knock it off. stop staring at me."

- kita clears his throat and looks away from you because this time, he thought you were beautiful

- once you're finally home, you bid the others goodbye and flop onto your bed already looking forward to tomorrow's practice

©blushlani | lowercase intended

[badlucksav]

I'm fashionably late (as always) but today is Fanfic Writers Appreciation Day, so I need to gush about some very incredible, talented people, some of whom I'm very lucky to consider friends. This is probably going to be very lengthy, so if you don't want to see me scream about how amazing these lovely people are, I suggest you keep scrolling.

I've been in fandom for just over 2 years, and I've met some incredible people along the way. Here's what I love about them:

@neurologicaldamage as one of my oldest fandom friends, I have long enjoyed screaming excitedly at each other over new ideas or plot developments in existing fics. It was a thrilling ride waiting for each update of "These Scars of Ours". Your angst is the most exquisite type of pain I will gladly subject myself to over and over again.

@authorjoydragon JOY! My beloved multishipper. You are one of, if not the, biggest reason I have blossomed into the fully fledged multishipping trash that I am today. Your fics are like the sweetest, fluffiest piece of cake I can enjoy. I can't even remember the first fic I ever read from you. I definitely remember "Accidental Rendezvous" though, and I am forever honored you commissioned me for it! @orangepanic you took someone who wasn't even that into the LoK fandom and gave her a whole new OTP while she was on hiatus from Zutara. You are the captain of Irosami, and I am humbled to have become your first mate on this wonderful little ship. I have adored everything that I've read from you so far, but I am deeply enjoying "Hotman" and "Starvation Paradise", as well as your new gift for me, "There Was Only One Bed".

@homeagainrose Not only are you a talented writer, you are also an endless well of knowledge that has become invaluable to me (and many others, I'm sure). "Summer At the Swimming Dragon" is everything, and my excitement is palpable every time you update it. But of course, everything you write is superb (also a big fan of "Hello Sailor").

@asajjvxntress You were one of the first Zutara writers I stumbled across. It was "I've Got A Dark Alley" if memory serves, and definitely contributed to my love of modern AUs. I fell in love with "New Girl" and then watched the show, which is now one of my favorites and it's all because of you! Your output feeds our ship so well, and we are honored to have you.

@myargalargan O Captain, Our Captain of the lovely Sukka ship. Your writing is so darling. Sukka is so wholesome, but somehow it feels even more like that when you write them. You take a side pairing and make them a main pairing. "Our Little Remedy" was much anticipated, and I must thank you for introducing all of us to...you know *wink wink*.

@krastbannert My dude, the way you write is so...hauntingly captivating. Even on your happiest fics, there's always this slight air of melancholy that I just adore. The way you get into a character's head is so amazing, too. It feels like you've cracked them wide open and studied them to understand them as well as you do. "Brave Soldier Girl" captured my attention with just one chapter. @heavensenthearty you give 100% to everything you do with your writing. You have such a poetic way with words. It doesn't feel like first person works often with fanfic, but you always make it work perfectly. @its-sooz-again Where do I begin? The pairings, the topics, the characters you explore are sometimes things I never would have thought of, but when I read you writing (or look at your art) I think, wow, this just makes sense. I've always loved Jet, but you've given him such a profound sense of humanity for me that has deepened my love for our favorite traumatized orphan of war. "The Break in the Bend" lives rent free in my head.

@lone-star-ranger you write some of the best fluff! The way you seamlessly weave canon into AUs, AtLA with LoK, Azula with Star Wars, is incredible. You've gifted me so many wonderful fics and have truly become my first mate on the S.S. Yuten, for which I am always deeply indebted to you. "Perks of Matchmaking" is short and sweet, and I'm forever honored that my gift for you inspired a fic that you gifted to me. I've rambled on long enough, and thank you if you've made it this far. Here are some honorable mentions who deserve all of the praise, but I'll be here all night if I try: @siambre, @marijayne-writing, @barelyaware, @mycomfortblanket, @boomerangguy, @thatoneguy56fanfic, and so many others! Thank you for all that you do.

[lily-drake]

Photograph

Based on

Thank you @johannaiii for letting me write this!!!! It was so much fun and it was a really good prompt!

Talia didn’t like the process of giving birth, in fact she loathed it.  She swore she would never, and she meant never do it again.  But when she was giving birth, and she found out that she was having twins, and she got to hold her children that she sacrificed and suffered for, she loved them.  When she learned that one of them was a girl, she knew that her father would be furious and demand her death.  So she immediately summoned one of the monks from the Tibetan temple that her father was allying with and gave them the girl.  She demanded that they train her and protect, and that she would never, ever be mentioned to Ra’s.  She even killed the nurses who helped her give birth to make sure that there was no one left who would know.  It wouldn’t be hard to find replacements for them anyways, it’s not like their lives were significant.  They had served out their use, now there was no need for them.  When it was time she presented her son, Damian, to her father claiming him to be the only child and heir to the Demon’s Head.  Ra’s was very pleased with her and she felt pride at being able to carry out her task properly that her father was very much pleased with her and her child.

Even though Marinette, as she had named the child before she had given her up, was no longer in the league, she made sure she was still in her daughter’s life.  Once every year she left for “training” purposes with Damian and went to the ancient temple in Tibet to visit her daughter and make sure that the two siblings got to spend time with each other.  Marinette was growing up so fast and the monks would report to her of her daughter’s progress.  They told her that Marinette was destined for greatness and to be a powerful leader, and that pleased Talia greatly.  The man in charge of her daughter's training, Master Wang Fu, would show her photos of her daughter and her accomplishments; she wished that she would be allowed to do the same for Damian.  But the League and the Temple of Order, while partners, were two separate entities when it came to how they were trained and taught.  She smiled as she saw her children sparing on the temple’s grounds, each assessing how strong the other had become since their last meeting a year ago.

They were both 6-years-old now, and Marinette had lost one of her top baby teeth.  She wore the traditional light blue training robes the monks wore while Damian wore his traditional black and red armor with his katana sheathed on his back.  She watched her children and a small smile graced her lips as she watched the two.  They were opposites in almost everything, yet they were still so similar.  Damian’s fighting was aggressive and forceful while Marinette’s focussed on out maneuvering and tiring out the opponent from a distance before striking where it hurt the most.  Their personalities were like fire and ice with Damian being aggressive and mighty while Marinette was soft and humble.  Damian was assertive and forceful in the way he spoke, while Marinette was gentle and descriptive.  Though, like she said before they had many similarities that helped to cement their relationship.  They both were very artistic, in battle they both would get up and personal with their challenger if given the opportunity, both were very intelligent and soaked everything up like a sponge, and both were highly competitive.  The sound of metal being hit together sounded from the training grounds as Damian and Marinette fought with their respective weapons; Damian with his katana and Marinette with her two daggers.

“You’ve definitely improved since the last visit, 'ukht, but so have I.”

Damian announced as he went in to sweep his sister’s legs all while bringing his blade down towards her.  Marinette used her daggers to lift Damian’s blade and flipped backwards as Damian tried to perform his strike.  She was very flexible and graceful when she was in the air.  It sometimes looked as if she were flying when she performed some of her stunts.

“Maybe you have, Xiōngdì, but I seem to still have the upper hand.”

Marinette replied with smugness dripping from her voice as her brother glared at her.  Marinette carefully crafted her words to manipulate while Damian spoke his mind and used his to order and command.  They were opposites, but they completed each other in a way few will ever know.

The day Damian and Talia were to begin their trek back down the mountain Fu ran up to Damian and placed a piece of paper in his hands.  He bowed respectfully to the old man and looked at the picture.  It was a picture the old man had taken a few days ago.  Marinette was smiling brightly and had her arm around his shoulder while he had his arms crossed in front of him and leaned into his sister’s touch with a small smirk.  They were both in their training clothes and stood in front of the mountains that hid and protected the Temple of Order.  He smiled at it and glanced at his sister who was waving goodbye with a big sad smile.  He simply nodded and left not knowing that this would be the last time he would for many years that he would lay eyes on her once again.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Order, it was gone, destroyed!  Marinette felt tears rush down her face as she watched her friends and mentors perish in the flames of miraculous magic gone astray.  She could feel the cold wind passing by her as Master Fu dragged her away, but she couldn’t remove her gaze from her home that was falling into pieces.  What would Damian think, she had to leave something for him to let him know she was okay!  But she was never given the chance because she couldn’t pull away from her master.  They were the last ones left, and Marinette couldn’t wrap her mind around it at all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Damian and Talia hiked the trial many months later, and as they neared the top they could sense something was definitely off.  The top of the temple would usually be in view by now. When they finally reached the top they froze as they saw the ruins of the burned and destroyed temple in front of them.  Talia was the first to break from her daze and ran to the ruins searching through them to find any remains of her daughter.  Damian soon joined his mother, but it was no use.  Damian and Talia believed the worst had happened to her, and with silent tears flowing down his face he stabbed his sword into the ground in front of the burnt remains and fell onto his knees in front of it.  The sword would serve as a gravestone for the fallen warriors here, but it specifically would serve as Marinette’s grave marker.  She was a brave warrior, one of the best, and she was gone now.  Talia stood by her son’s side and soon kneeled in front of it as well with her hand placed on her son’s shoulder.  As they traveled down the mountain Damian swore that he would never be vulnerable again, he would never care about anyone ever again, because the pain he felt was too intense and never wanted to feel it ever again.

So both He and Talia took on more missions, Talia was rarely at the base, always gone doing whatever her father needed.  The training in Tibet never happened again, and Damian grew closer to his grandfather.  He trained harder, attacked ruthlessly, and channeled all his pain and rage into his strikes.  He held onto the photo that Fu had given him of the two of them so many years ago.  He had it tucked away in a secret place in his room where no one would ever find it, because he wanted to keep her with him in some way.  Never again, he wouldn’t be hurt like before ever again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette lived with Master Fu in a tea parlor under the guise of Marin Fu.  She helped him run his parlor and distribute his charms to the people through the teas she brewed while he placed charms on people through the massage therapy he did.  Fu let her be home schooled as she already knew way more than any normal school could teach her.  She would just be repeating things when she could be learning more new material.  She was also taught how to better practice her magic and use the miraculous.  She was going to be the new guardian one day, she was going to be the last guardian one day, and that thought scared her and brought back all of the nightmares.  She locked that night and anything before the fire back up in her mind only remembering what she needed to when she needed to.

Fu wanted her to interact with people though, so with the money he made he sent her to a gymnastics class where she could still retain her skills and get better at them.  She honestly loved the classes and she felt so free when she did them.  Nobody could beat her, in fact she advanced to level 10 quickly and was well on her way to the elite by the time she was 13.  And that’s when Hawkmoth struck Paris.

Lady Rouge and her partner Chat Noir made a decent team, but he was nowhere near her skill level which often annoyed her.  He wasn’t a true black cat, her brother was.  He was her balanced counterpart, and this cat was just a stand in.  And as time went on the imbalance continued the boy became corrupted by the destructive energy of the ring.  She had continually told Master Fu about it, but he would not listen.  And then it was time for him to pass, and she became the grand guardian, the last grand guardian.  Tears fell down the young 15-year-olds face as she watched her mentor's spirit leave him in his peaceful slumber.  He was so old, and it was just his time for him to go, but now she had nowhere to go, but she knew what she had to do.

“Hello, M’lady.”

Chat Noir said in a flirty tone as he spun his staff as if the speed he was doing it at would impress her.

“Hello, Chat.”

She replied terse with her arms crossed in front of her as she leaned on the railing of the Eiffel Tower and gazed at the sky that held little stars due to all of the lights of the city below them.

“Are you not excited to see your soulmate?  Come on M’lady,”

He said grabbing one of her hands with a large smile and deep voice,

“let me take you out somewhere, just the two of us.”

It took everything in Marinette not to break his wrist in that moment, but she had to play along.

“Okay.”

Chat’s eyes widened and his leather tail began to move side to side in an excited manner.

“W-wait, really?!”

“You know what, ya.  This week has been really tough and I could use it.”

Chat’s smile turned into a smirk and a dark twinkle lit up his eyes.  He took a step back and held his hand, his ringed hand, out for her to take.  SHe smiled at him gently and innocently and took his hand, and as he was about to pull her forward she took hold of the rings and ripped her hand off, taking the ring with her.  There was a blonde boy with green eyes staring at her with shock and hurt written all over his face, then eventually anger.

“I am revoking you from being able to wield the Black Cat Miraculous.  You are not compatible to wield this power as you are not my balanced counterpart.  The ring has been corrupting and harming you after all of your exposure to it when you are not the right one to wear it while I hold the earrings.  Thank you for the help you have given me in the past, but I’m afraid that I can not risk hurting you any longer.”

The boy stared at her with wide shocked eyes and nodded.  She could see that he too had now noticed the change as with the ring it didn’t feel like he changed at all.  She helped him get to his house and left after shaking his hand and thanking him one last time for his help.  And as she was about to leave the property she heard the sound of something above her opening and through the now open window she saw an akuma flying out of it.

She quickly caught the akuma and crashed through the glass window into the dark room.  Before Hawkmoth could even realize what had happened she had tied him up in her yo-yo and he was pinned in place with the tight cord.  If she pulled it any tighter it would cut into his skin and draw blood.  She grabbed the broach from the middle of the suit --which was as hideous as his akuma designs, if not worse-- and watched the man detransform making sure the camera on her yo-yo recorded the whole thing.

“You will be subject to the curse of whatever your abused kwami sees fit for you, and then the people of Paris will have you.”

Was all she said as she brought the man onto his knees so he could properly respect the kwami and the God’s they are.  Nooroo appeared and stared down at the man in front of him with an angered fiery glare.

“Gabriel Agreste, you have abused me and my miraculous for too long!�� I bring upon a curse upon you, that no one will ever believe a word you say, and that your craft of manipulation will only work against you!”

And with that, pain courses through Gabriel and the wings of a butterfly were branded on the left side of his chest just above his heart.  She left soon after that and sent the footage for the police.  She watched from a distance as the police took him in, and told one of the officers that Adrien was innocent and had no connection to his father’s scheme.  Once she was sure Gabriel would not be able to escape his justice she pulled the horse miraculous from her yo-yo and summoned a portal to wherever she needed to be next.

~~~~~~~~~~

Damian was in the cave training when Todd burst in and began to run towards him with a stupid smug grin on his face.  Damian rolled his eyes and watched Todd stop in front of him holding something small and flimsy in his hand.

“Demon Spawn,”

He breathed out, his smug smile growing wider,

“Did you have a girlfriend in the league?”

Damian was….confused.  He had no such thing, but as Todd showed him the thing in his hand his blood froze.  It was the photo of him and Marinette.  How did he find it?!  Why did he even have it?!

“Give it back, Todd.”

Damian growled lowly hands gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.

“She is!  Guys, Damian had a-“

He tackled Jason after that and wrestled the photo out of his grip and held it close to him.  He glared daggers at Todd and made absolutely sure that the old photo was still intact.  Once he was sure.  Todd was back on his feet and Damian had the urge to run him through with his sword for daring to rummage through his belongings and to dare touch his picture.  He opened his mouth to spit out fiery words of anger, when a portal opened right in front of Damian.  A girl walked out of it and the portal immediately closed.  It was absolutely silent in the cave as the other occupants who were also there stared at the person.  The girl was rigid as she stared Damian directly in the eyes, and he felt a familiar pull to her.

“Kaalki, Tikki separate.  Tikki spots off.”

She spoke quickly, and her voice, and those words, and he knew who she was.  But that was impossible, because she had died, hadn’t she?!  Arms wrapped around him and he could hear sniffles and he felt his arms wrap robotically around the small frame of his sister.

“Xiōngdì, I missed you so much!  I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner!  Th-the Order was destroyed and Fu woul-wouldn’t let me leave a message, and-and someone was misusing the Butterfly in France (sniff).  And-and…..”

She took a long shaky breath in and sighed,

“I missed you so much.”

It took a while to realize that silent tears were falling down his face, and he hugged her even tighter against his chest.  Because his sister, his twin sister was alive, and she hadn’t died in the fire and destruction of the temple.

“It’s okay, 'ukht.  I’ve got you.”

They stayed like that for a few precious moments before Todd yelled,

“What the f*!”

———————

Permanent Taglist:

@aespades @adrestar

[spice-chan]

Cure Me

King!singledad! Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader

Prince Matsuki makes an interesting friend. he could have never foretold who she is to his father...

TW: curses, sickness

Thank you so much to @stargazingaloneatnight for sending this lovely request ! I totally got carried away though, so it’s going to have a second part. 

Thanks a lot to @patt-writes-stuff and @reddriot for being amazing beta readers !!

Wordcount: 4.4 K

..........................................

At the ripe age of 18, you were married off to the woodcutter in your village. 

You weren’t enthusiastic about it, but you didn’t dissent. After all, in a small village, all the people of close age were expected to marry eventually. It was either him, the farmer or the butcher. A prince isn’t going to come and sweep you off your feet.

You moved to the isolated cabin near the woods where your husband resided, and you lived there with him for a year. You wouldn’t exactly describe it as harmony, but it was peaceful enough for you to be content. He respected you and you respected him, but you yearned for something more.You yearned for love, for the overwhelming feeling that would envelope you whole, that would elicit shivers from your spine, and down to your very toes. 

But you had to get those foolish fantasies out of your head; after all, your husband was now all you had. Until you didn’t have him anymore. 

His body was found, squashed underneath a large tree that fell the wrong way. 

Guilt and loss reigned in your mind and heart. You wondered, should you have appreciated him more ? Should you have cherished the little moments instead of wishing for something better? 

It was a lonely existence for a while after that, until a red eyed, spikey haired little boy ventured to your isolated abode. 

………

Loneliness was a disease that feasted on your open wounds until they were gaping holes, bleeding and gushing, but you were unable to stitch them back together. Who wants to be lonely, truly? So all Bakugo did was cover the open wounds with his hand, growling protectively as he shielded himself. And he couldn’t stitch together the hole in his chest, even when his hand was stained red as evidence of his pain. 

He thought he loved her. He convinced himself he loved her. The only woman and person who seemingly managed to stand him and understand him. He tried so hard to be good to her. Tried to act better when he saw the gleam of judgement in her eyes. Only to wake up one day with a letter telling him “don’t look for me” and “I’ll be somewhere better. Away from you and that spawn. Good luck with him, though you’ll probably have enough soon and throw him somewhere far, the sound of his cries is annoying.” 

Him. 

She couldn’t bring herself to say her son’s name. 

It’s like he was a disposable piece of trash to her. Katsuki’s teeth gnashed whenever he remembered the way she spoke of her own son, his son. 

“DAD!” screamed a little boy, the carbon copy of his dad, running to his father's lap where he ducked down and hid between them. 

Bakugo growled playfully, bending his back to look at the excitable little boy, who held his finger to his lips. 

“What do you think you’re doing, squirt?” 

“I’m hiding from Shitty Maid.” 

Katsuki quirked his eyebrows at the foul language that came out of his son’s mouth, but his response never made the light of day as a flustered and heaving maid entered the dining chamber, her eyes frantically searching. 

“My king, I’m so sorry ! Have you seen Prince Matsuki come here ?” she questioned breathlessly, the prince having evidently tired her out. 

Bakugo clicked his teeth rather impertinently. “No, you shitty maid, I didn’t see him come here,” he replied and resumed eating, seemingly unperturbed by his son being ‘missing’. 

“Sorry, Your Majesty, I’ll resume my search for him. Sorry to have disturbed you!” she exclaimed before picking her gown and scrambling out. 

Bakugo stared beneath his chair pointedly, his carbon copy only giving doe eyes as a reply. 

“Why are you hiding anyway?!”

Matsuki crawled out from underneath the chair and stood up, dusting his knees. 

“She wants to teach me eti-etiquette or whatever,” Matsuki grumbled. “I’m going out to play with my friends.” 

Etiquette? How useless. Is that what they are teaching his son? 

Bakugo clapped his back, glad to see his son not be a pushover. “Don’t be late, squirt.”

“Ok, dad!” Matsuki jumped and enveloped Katsuki’s muscular frame in a hug with his tiny arms, warming Katsuki’s heart as he ruffled his son’s spiky hair. 

……..

Matsuki couldn’t find his friends. 

He ventured into the woods in search of them, sporting a scowl everyone should be familiar with. His tiny, handsome face scrunched slightly as he looked around the place curiously. His feet padded on, scrunching on crispy fallen leaves in their wake. 

He walked for a while, marking trees as he went along to ensure he didn’t get lost, but eventually, a sugary sweet scent had his tiny legs move faster on their own accord in search of it. The closer he seemingly got, the more powerfully the mouth watering scent assaulted his nose. It smelled cozy on this chilly day, like a warm cup of milk by a warm fire as snow fell outside.

He reached a clearing. The thick, intimidating trees that loomed over him shrunk away until there was none left. 

No trees, but he found a small cabin with a window cracked open. 

He boldly marched up to it, his mouth set in a straight, determined line. A fisted palm knocked once, twice, and thrice on the worn out wood, to ensure that it was heard. 

His nervousness set in when the handle turned and a lady emerged at the threshold. He steeled himself. His daddy told him that if he wanted something, he should work to get it. 

You smiled at him warmly when you spotted him: a young, unfamiliar boy. He looked out of his element, but his strange red eyes stared at you despite how he seemed to be unused to such situations. His eyes reflected the embers of a brave soul. 

“There was a nice smell coming from here,” he admitted, his tiny face scrunching into a scowl that seemed more adorable than anything.

“Well, yes, I baked cookies,” you responded mildly, your voice never too high but quite clear. The boy’s eyes widened, his red hues glistening in child-like excitement.

“Cookies?!”  He jumped, and clutched your gown. 

“Can I have some ?” Puppy dog eyes stared up at you, pleading and cute. You haven’t encountered a child in a long time. You stopped going to the village as often, and eventually, they stopped visiting too. Your mother died after she contracted something, her old body unable to fight it off, and your dad ran off somewhere to ‘adventure’. 

“Sure.” You moved from the threshold. “Come in.” You gestured with your head to your small cottage, a humble place, but a reminder of your lonesome existence. 

He brightened up considerably, his mouth twisting into a sweet smile. He would become such a handsome young man once he grew up. It made you wonder how beautiful his parents must be. 

You pulled a chair for him at the table, and went to put some cookies on a plate for him. 

“YUM. That’s so delicious!” He spoke between mouthfuls, some tiny crumbs flying out of his mouth in his excitement. 

“Thank you, but be careful. You might choke if you speak while chewing sweetie,” you chided him lightly. Matsuki didn’t recognize this tone, it sounded equal parts stern and caring. He nodded and continued munching down. 

“Would you like to drink something? I have some orange juice, and uh, water. I could make tea, but I don’t think kids your age fancy that you rambled, suddenly excited about having someone keep you company for the first time in a while. 

He opened his mouth to answer, but upon remembering your words, he opted to chew for a few more seconds then swallowing his cookies before bellowing out,“Yes! Orange juice.” 

How adorable. 

You poured two glasses of orange juice and joined your little companion, munching on some cookies of your own. Before long, he finished all of them and leaned back on the chair, mouth letting out a sigh and hand patting his stomach as a show of overindulgence. 

“Good?” 

“Yup! You’re a very nice lady. Way nicer than my dummy maid,” he grumbled, you weren’t sure whether to be flattered or concerned, but one thing did grab your attention. 

“Maid ?” 

He nodded, slightly confused at your question. 

“Don’t you have one ?” You quirked an eyebrow and looked around your tiny cottage. Did it look like you have one? 

Oh God, you hoped this boy wasn’t mistaking his mother for a maid. With that in mind, you asked him, however, his face fell in sadness and the fire in his eyes dulled a little. 

“I don’t have a mother. The maids always talk about how sorry they are for me. I hate it. None of them even care about me,” he spoke in a quiet voice, tearing at your heart with his down turned face. 

“But at least I have my daddy,” he spoke up, brightening a little. You smiled at that, reaching towards him and ruffling his fluffy yet spikey blond hair. 

“That’s good. Keep cherishing your father, at least the two of you have each other.” You wiped some crumbs from around his mouth with a napkin, speaking to the boy in a lonesome voice; unintentionally mothering him. 

He smiled and nodded;unintentionally accepting. 

The boy was either mistaking some people in his household for maids, or he was some rich merchant’s son. On that note—

“Did you tell anyone you’re coming here? They might be worried about you,” you asked cautiously, but then your eyes widened as a new wave of worry hit you. 

“Oh my God, what if you got lost? Do you know your way back?” 

You sighed in relief when he nodded, flashing you a smile with his teeth on display, one of them missing from the front, making it all the more endearing. You narrowed your eyes at him, prompting him to elaborate. 

“I always come to play around here with my friends. It’s really close to home!” You oo’d. However, it was now his turn to panic. “Oh no, I forgot all about them !” He looked outside, seeing the sun shining proudly in the centre of the sky. 

“I think I can still catch them,” he declared determinedly, and hopped off his seat. His tiny legs carried him to the door, his pale hand grasping the worn down doorknob, but before twisting it, he turned to you, his smile of youth gracing his face again. 

“See you later, nice lad !”

.……..……

“No way! You wanted to be a pirate? But they’re so nasty!” he exclaimed, scrunching his nose at you in disgust. You shrugged, shoulders slumped. 

“I thought it’d be a fun time. I found it in a book and dreamed that one day, I too can embark on an adventure and find hidden treasures,”you explained with a dreamy, yet nostalgic look in your eyes, akin to one looking back fondly at a long gone memory. It’s been nearly a year since you met the mystery child. You’ve been...noticeably happier. 

His cherry red orbs made your day, along with an innocence that was very hard to maintain in these tough times, although that's probably because his toughness differs from yours. 

He pouted, running a hand through his tamed locks. “Well, why can’t you?” 

He stared up at you expectantly, oblivious to what he was expecting. His red orbs burwith ith the flame of innocenand and didnuldn’t dare blow it out. 

“I don’t know.” 

Even for his young age, he was perceptive. Bbut before he could question your downtrodden face, you stood up, coughing loudly. It went on for a few seconds, and Matsuki watched worriedly as you cupped your hand over your mouth, shoulders shaking from the force. 

After you stopped, you breathed for a few seconds, face flushed and stamina depleted. But again, before he could question anything, you stood up, stretching. The sun hit your face, which looked noticeably paler, but you forced a smile anyway, and held your hand out for Matsuki to grab and follow suit. 

“Let’s go inside, you wanted me to redo your hair, right ?” He grabbed your hand with renewed vigor, hopping off the wood and trekking with you back inside the cottage. 

He said his maid had to slick his hair back because they had guests over and he ‘had to look more presentable’, which you internally scoffed at. His hair was amazing as it was. 

You’d never seen a texture so amazing. It was soft as silk, but it appeared spikey. Like a porcupine or something, looked thorny but had a soft side? 

You brought some water and wet his hair, before drying it with a towel. You could already see some results. You brought a hairbrush and began to hum softly while brushing his semi dry blond locks. 

You towelled it once again, before patting him across the back. Your head felt light, and a light pain began to creep in. You probably need some water. 

“THANK YOU! It was so ugly before.” He pranced about, happy that his hair no longer looked like some ‘sappy extra’. You wonder where the child got those interesting phrases. You stood up to get a glass of water, but the moment you stood up, the world swirled, spinned, and blurred. And then it all faded to black. 

You hit the floor with a loud thump, and Matsuki sprung to his feet and frantically ran to your side. 

His small hands grabbed your arm and shook you, his face growing warm and throat getting clogged up, before tears burst forth. They dampened your sleeves, continuously flowing like a waterfall, but you still remained almost lifeless on the floor. Matsuki was young, helpless, and alone. 

And he did what any young, helpless and crying child would do. 

He ran to the person he loves —his father. 

……………

Bakugou heard the sound of Matsuki running before h, felt the wind, tornado like, as the doors of his room were pushed open in a manner so excitable he’d consider it rather insolent had it not been his own son. 

 His reprimands were stuck in his throat when he saw the flushed face and bloodshot eyes of his shis heart aching at the sight. 

“What’s wongh” he asked softly, the tone rather unusual coming from him. Then again, his son coming to him crying was something very rare.oo., Matsuki took after his  and and he was a very brave and strong boy. Something that Bakugou lamented about, at times. Being his carbon copy wasn’t that much of a blessing when it came to the matters of the heart. 

Matsuki found his dad sitting at his desk, he ran to him and clung to his legs, crying uncontrollably. 

It took Bakugou a second to overcome his awkwardness and emotional constipation. He scooped his son up and sat him on his lap, wiping his tears away. 

“Hey squirt, calm down and tell me what’s wrong. If it’s someone that upset you, God help them-” 

Matsuki tried to halt his hiccups, failing for a few seconds while he hugged his dad, he patted his back comfortingly. 

“Dad, my friend…” he began, but his eyes watered as a fresh batch of tears threatened to burst. 

“What happened to your friend, Matsuki?” 

Matsuki sniffled, wiping his eyes before continuing. 

“So, she’d been sick for a few weeks, but today when I visited her, she fell and wouldn’t wake up,” Matsuk explainedd, clutching into Bakugou tightly. 

Bakugou hummed, nodding solemnly. 

“Can you take me where your friend is?” 

Matsuki nodded, but Katsuki was dubious about the nature of this pursuit. His distrustful nature was shining through.If this ‘friend’ was outside the protective barrier, then Katsuki didn’t know what to really expect. So before leaving his room, he donned his protective amber around his neck, a magical jewel chosen by his dragon when he was younger. All shifters choose an enchanted jewel to guard their existence and warn them of dangers. He made sure to pick up his son’s, looping the necklace around his neck, the jewel dangling and shining. 

He needed to give his son a talk about this. 

…………

They walked in the forest for a while before reaching a small, worn out looking cottage. Bakugou arched a blond eyebrow, more curious than ever. He’d think it was a ploy with more sinister intentions, luring both prince and king but… he’d never seen his son more shook up over someone, they must mean a lot to him. He couldn’t bear to delay this. 

They reached the door, the wood creaking as Bakugo opened it. His ruby eyes started searching for you, and when they caught your figure on the floor, they began gleaming. 

He felt the breath knocked out of him when he saw you, asleep (he hoped) like an angel with your hair looking wild but still adding to your charm like a halo. You looked so soft, so precious, and it felt like his life only began this moment when he caught sight of you. 

His heartbeat was so strong, he could feel it in his very eyes, who were overwhelmed with the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He had seen plenty of beautiful women, ones he didn’t spare a second glance at, extras, unworthy of his time. But for some reason, the beauty of you rooted him in his spot and halted all rational thoughts. He was only broken out of his reverie when Matsuki shook him. He felt a rush of love, devotion, and ease like he’d never felt before. It all made sense, the sense of loneliness, of being lost when his path is clear in front of him. Of finding every potential romantic partner lukewarm at best. 

“Dad. Can you help her ? I don’t want her to be sick anymore.”

And in that moment, it dawned on him. 

Katsuki found his soulmate, but there’s a chance he might have already lost her. 

He ran to you checking your vitals, and thankfully, everything seemed fine. He put his forehead against yours, cursing when he felt a scalding fever. 

“What happened ?” He picked one of the numerous questions buzzing in his head. 

“Well, she did my hair like I’d asked her, but the moment she stood up, she fell down! I tried waking her up, but she wouldn’t. She’d been coughing a lot the past few weeks too and looking tired,” Matsuki explained clearly, now comforted by having his father share the weight with him. 

Katsuki looked around at the rather shabby place. Fit for a commoner. Not you. 

He was baffled at having a mate. Only the most legendary, wise and favoured dragons did, the dragons that made it to history scriptures. Things no one considered him to be. Things he was succumbing to not being. Things she convinced him he wasn’t. Sure, he could fight deadly wars, bring nations down to their knees, but violence did not warrant a soulmate. 

He scoop you up, closer to his chest. Heyouyou tightly, heart physically hurting at the thought of you being in pain. He just met you, what’s with him ? 

He stood up, nudging his son to leave. 

What a coincidence. An insane, crazy coincidence. 

His son, his only blessing in this shrouded world, was what led him to the one thing nobody thought he’d have. 

“Tell me more on the way.

Matsuki nodded. 

……………

Bakugou laid you on his bed, surrounding you with the softest materials one could ever touch. He pulled a chair besides you, lounging on it as he waited for a healer to arrive. 

You remained unconscious, but it seems like your temperature increased even more. He was so lost in his own thoughts, that he didn’t register that Matsuki walked inside the room until he was addressing him. 

“Is she going to be alright ?” Bakugou didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth, then again, he didn’t have the heart to lie to him either. 

“I don’t know.” Somehow saying it out loud hurts even more. 

A knock on the door broke the gloominess. 

“Come in.” 

Hope walked in, in the shape of a short, old lady with medical equipment. 

Recovery Girl inspected you, from temperature to heartbeat. And when done, she sighed. 

“Everything boils down to it being a simple fever, but in that case, she wouldn’t be unconscious,” she explained ambiguously. She took one of your hands, and andr fingertips were icy cold. 

She hummed contemplatively. She brought out a healing crystal, squeezing it in one fist, while she held your hand in the other. The idea was to transfer the healing energy from the crystal to you, only possible through a healing mage. 

However, when nothing seemed to happen, Recovery Girl opened her fist. She found a shattered crystal. 

“Oh my…” 

Bakugou growled, frustration willing up and tipping over. “The fuck!” 

Recovery Girl glared at him. Such language shouldn’t be used in front of a child. 

“Typical healing methods aren’t going to work.” 

Silence reigned over this time, willing the old lady to continue on, both his and his son’s hearts on the edge. 

“I believe she’d been cursed.” 

Bakugou scrunched up his eyebrows at the absurd explanation. Who’d curse you of all people ? He only just discovered your existence!

Yet for some reason, he felt like he’d rather die than let you, the one who could love him for all his flaws, the one who always brought a smile on his son’s face, suffer. 

“How?” The deity up there must be very cruel, to take you away when he just met you. 

“I don’t know, son. There’s a very strong, malevolent energy, enough to break a healing crystal. It’s going to make her body reject anything that could heal it,” she explained solemnly. 

“If you want this young lady healthy and well, we need to take different measures to heal her. Also, do you know who cursed, or where she could have incurred it? That will be very helpful.” 

Bakugou looked at Matsuki, knowing that he himself is clueless. 

“This is the first time I met her. Matsuki seems to have met her a while ago in her tiny ass cottage outside the protective barrier.” She looked like she had some questions, but instead directed her attention to the little Bakugou and asked him what matters most right now. 

“Do you know anyone that might’ve done this? Have you seen her interact with anyone that could possibly be capable of it?” She knew asking a child would likely be more fruitless then not, but she still wished to help you in any way she could. 

Matsuki shook his head. 

“I’ve never even seen her talk with anyone.” This only served to increase Bakugou’s suspensions. Could it be something to do with your affiliation with Matsuki ? And if that was the case, then there’s so many other things he must take into account too, because that would mean that there’s a traitor in their midst, or at least someone that had been tracking Matsuki for… what fucking ever reason. 

He sighed, feeling an ache beginning to form in his head. He touched your arm, wanting to reassure himself that you are alive. 

A gasp rang out from the occupants of the room when you opened your eyes, making them seem glowy when the sunlight reflected off them, giving you an ethereal, angelic radiance. 

The air left his lungs, while blood rushed to his cheeks, making them seem ripe as apples. 

“How is this possible?” 

This shocked him awake, out of his reverie and into reality. 

Recovery Girl glanced at the arm Bakugo was touching, humming to herself with a knowing glint in her old, wise eyes. 

“Well, my king, did you forget? The oldest, most powerful magic that dragons have been gifted::soulmates.” 

Bakugo blushed again, kissing his teeth and glaring at Recovery Girl. 

“What are you babbling on about, old hag?” 

“I believe you know.” 

He glared at the ground, childishly not answering. 

“Um...what’s going on?” A small, feminine voice asked. Bakugou turned to you, melting at the majestic sound of your voice. 

“That’s a good question.” That brat. 

Bakugou tried to stay in contact with you, afraid of making the burst of magic triggered by your bond slipping away. 

“Uh, you lost unconsciousness and Matsuki asked me to help you. Oh, and apparently you were cursed.” Bakugou bluntly spits the facts at you, not thinking ahead for your reaction. 

“A CURSE?” you shouted, coughing after due to hoarseness. The old hag shot Bakugou another glare, before sweetening up and looking at you. 

“We’ll explain after you rest a bit and freshen up, you’d been through quite a bit.” she said, deliberately not divulging any information yet. She didn’t need to be there for the grand explanation. She’d rather not be, actually. 

She stood on her weary legs, leaving the room unnoticed as you admired your surroundings, and as Bakugou admired you. Matsuki’s stare lacked the burn of fascination as he stared at his father grumpily. 

“The fuck you looking at her so weird for?” Matsuki seethed. You gasped and turned to him. 

“Matsuki!” He bristled in frustration, having forgotten how much you hated it when he cursed. 

“Sorry. He was though!” 

Bakugou, throughout the whole thing, glared at his son with blushing cheeks. He wanted to spank some respect into him so bad right now. 

You turned to Bakugo, gaze weighty in the seriousness it’s burdened with. 

“Thanks for helping me, I appreciate it. You’re Matsuki’s father, right? The resemblance is hard to miss. Well, I have a lot of questions, but firstly, what do you mean by cursed?” 

You felt as if a rock was pressed against your chest, gloom overtaking your features as you awaited his answer. Still hopeful that it was a joke, but the ancient dark magic was not to be joked with. 

“Someone cursed you. It’s the cause for your sickness, and it’s slowly sapping the life out of you. You’re only awake because uh...the magic of our bond is more powerful.” Bakugou rushed the last part, his heart beating, squeezing painfully when silence hung in the air after his not so confession. 

You purse your lips, the movement catching Bakugo’s attention, drawing him to your lips. Supple, kissable lips. 

“Our bond?” 

Bakugo nodded. 

“You’re my soulmate, it’s why—probably why Matsuki was so drawn to you.” Bakugo was looking forward to explaining more, before his door was busted open (a common occurrence these days it seems) by a panting soldier, who summoned the strength to salute stiffly. 

“Your majesty, we have received a letter from Celeane Siloh.” 

Well, what a great introduction to the family. 

...............

Kofi

Don’t forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed this !

[crumbledcastle28]

Chapter 6: A Jedi

Warnings: traumaaaa, lots of anxiety, like lots of anxiety, the reader really hates herself in this one, minor minor violence, references to violence, mostly just anxiety and hate.

Author’s Note: This is where the series starts to pick up, so I executed it as best as I could! I also went a little off canon with this one, so I hope it makes sense with the story. Thank you for any support!

Your journey to Sorgan was pretty smooth… but Mando was tense.

You tried your best to reassure him multiple times that this was the best choice for the kid and that you could help him with any challenge thrown at him, but he would just respond with a sigh and a solemn nod. So, you decided not to push it.

He had done even riskier missions on his own, so he can handle this one.

Once you arrived, you walked into the common house and met a woman named Cara Dune.

She introduced herself to you and she seemed very friendly, but when Mando mentioned that she was an ex shock trooper for the Republic, that is when you tensed up.

You had done things in your past that you knew would offend her. Not even offend her, but provoke her to strangle you alive. The fact that she was from Alderaan made it obvious enough that the Empire had hurt her deeply.

The only way to protect yourself was to hide who you really were, and your heart sank.

You felt like you had finally broken away from that way of life. The hiding, the anxiety, the fear. You felt like you could be yourself with Mando and the kid and not have to worry about that anymore. But the galaxy was cruel like that.

After the brief introduction, Mando proceeded to outline the plan and everything that the man on the recording (who you later found out to go by the name Greef Karga) had said, and Cara looked far from impressed.

“I don’t know, I’ve been advised to lay low,” she said, “If anyone identifies me, I’ll rot in a cell for the rest of my life.”

That makes two of us, you think.

“I thought you were a veteran,” Mando mumbled.

“I’ve been a lot of things,” Cara replied. “If I so much as book a passage on a ship registered to the New Republic-”

“I have a ship,” Mando replied, “I can bring you there and back with a handsome reward. You can live free of worry.”

“I’m already free of worry,” she said, “and I’m not in the mood to play soldier anymore. Especially fighting a local warlord.”

“He’s not a local warlord,” Mando replied, “He’s Imperial.”

You could see how Cara visibly tensed up at the word “Imperial.” If you weren’t scared of her before, you sure as hell were now.

“I’m in,” she responded, and you smiled at her.

She grinned back to you and asked, “Where do you fit in in this plan?”

You looked at the child in your arms and said, “My job is to keep the child safe. So I will protect him until he is used as the bait, and I will adapt to where he goes from there.”

“She can defend herself plenty,” Mando says, and Cara nods at you.

“I believe you,” she says, and you give her another smile.

I really hope I don’t let her down, you think.

~~*~~

Within the next hour, the four of you had arrived back at the Razor Crest.

Mando started the ship on track to Nevarro while Cara took a look at the weapon arsenal.

You watched as her eyes scanned over the array of options, and you couldn’t help but feel deep sorrow for her.

Her life was torn apart by the Empire, and now she was getting thrown right back into a fight. The fact that she wasn’t even going to join the mission before Mando mentioned that the client was Imperial made you nervous. She was not a woman you wanted to mess with, so you hoped and prayed you would stay on her good side.

The kid had somehow managed to make it to the controls and grab hold of the throttle, which made the ship veer abruptly side to side.

You ran to the child and lifted him away from the throttle while Mando stabilized the ship.

“Are you sure one set of hands is enough to watch that little beast? Worst case scenario, we made need y/n to fight with us. Maybe an extra set of hands could help,” Cara said, trying to catch her breath from running all around the ship.

Mando looked back at you and you nodded.

“She’s right. I can watch the kid as long as you need, but if you guys need me in a fight I can’t keep him with me. He could get hurt.”

Mando nodded and sat back down in the pilot’s chair.

“Looks like we are making a pit stop,” he said.

~~*~~

The Razor Crest landed on the property of a man named Kuiil. Mando said that he had helped him greatly in the past and he trusted him, and if Mando trusted somebody, you did too.

He greeted you with open arms and was incredibly nice. He led the four of you inside his humble home, and you never realized how long it had been since you stayed in an actual home.

Kuiil studied the child in your arms and said, “it hasn’t grown much.”

“What is your name,” he asked you.

“I am y/n. It is nice to meet you Kuiil,” you said and he nodded reverently to you.

“What about this one? Does she have a name,” he said, gesturing to Cara.

“This is Cara. She was a shock trooper,” Mando said.

“You were a dropper,” Kuiil said, and Cara nodded.

“Did you serve,” she asked.

“On the other side, I’m afraid. But I’m proud to say that I paid out my clan’s debt, and now I serve no one but myself,” Kuiil said.

The other side, you think. Kuiil served the Empire? And Mando had worked with him before?

You couldn’t deny the fact that this got your hopes up. Mando… working with the enemy.

If only he knew, you thought.

All of a sudden, the door behind Kuiil opened, and an IG droid stepped inside with a tray in his hands.

Mando immediately sprang to his feet and pointed his blaster at the droid. Cara joined him, and you blocked the pram the child was in with your whole body.

“Would anyone care for some tea,” the droid asked, and your eyebrows knit in confusion.

Weren’t these droids normally hunters?

“Please, lower your blasters. He will not harm you,” Kuiil said, obviously trying to diffuse the situation.

Mando, however, didn’t seem to want to go that route.

He kept his blaster pointed directly at the droid’s head and said, “That thing is programmed to kill the baby.”

You straightened your back at his words, blocking as much of the pram as you could, until Kuiil shook his head and said, “Not anymore.”

He then explained how he found the droid at a battle site and brought it back to his workshop. He decided to repair it, and then spent many days teaching the droid everything from scratch. It developed a personality, Kuiil mentioned, and it’s experiences helped the personality become unique to the droid.

“Is it still a hunter,” Mando asked.

“No, but it will protect,” he said, and Mando finally lowered his blaster.

There was no way Mando was going to let that robot anywhere near the child.

~~*~~

Later that night, you and Cara were sitting in Kuiil’s house while Mando was outside speaking with him, no doubt trying to convince him to protect the child.

“So what’s your story,” Cara asked, taking a sip of tea.

“Oh.. well… Mando picked me up on Tattooine. I worked there as a mechanic for a woman named Peli. It was a good job, but I wanted to get off that planet. I had lived there for a long time, and I wanted to explore the galaxy for once. It sounds cheesy, but I’ve always wanted to do that at some point. Mando agreed to take me with him on his missions in exchange for the child’s safety,” you say, and Cara nods.

“Nice. You made a living for yourself, and were brave enough to walk away when you knew the time was right. Most people never leave their home planet,” she says, and you nod.

“Yeah… I tried my best,” you say, and you try not to let your eyes darken. You didn’t like talking about your past. All it did was stir up old memories that you had worked to push down for years. You hated your past, and you didn’t know how well you could hide it much longer. Especially when you were being questioned by someone like Cara.

“The Empire… hurt me a lot. So, I am excited to hurt it back,” you say, and a big grin shows on Cara’s face.

She takes another sip of her tea, and looks up to find Mando walking through the door.

“Any luck,” she says to him, and he shakes his head no.

“Kuiil said that the droid can protect the child, but I don’t trust it,” he says and Cara chuckles.

“Yeah.. I think we got that,” Cara says and you smile.

Mando goes to sit down next to Cara, so she scoots over a bit to make some room for him.

You heard something hit the floor, and you realize Cara had knocked over your bag on accident. You had brought it into Kuiil’s house because you used it to store snacks for the child.

You stored other things in there too, and under no circumstance was anyone allowed to see them.

That was going pretty well, until Cara knocked the entire thing over.

“Whoops. Sorry,” she says and goes to start putting the items back in.

Your body is frozen in place and you feel like your lungs are being squeezed. Your limbs have turned to putty, and you cannot take your eyes off her hands.

If she sees it, I and dead. I am so dead

“It’s- It’s ok Cara. I’ve got it,” you say and start to stand up.

“No no it’s ok, I can-” she says, before her eyes widen.

She picks up an item and starts raising it to eye level, and you are just about ready to vomit.

Your saber.

You feel like your entire body is crumbling before her and she can’t even tell. Your breathing has become almost erratic and the sweat on your forehead starts to drip down to your eyes.

This whole experience, this whole journey with Mando and the kid could be completely undone right now. Everything you have hidden, everything you’ve buried, and everything you hoped you left behind on sandy Tattooine is staring you right in the face.

And Cara is….smiling?

“No way,” she yells excitedly, before laughing and smiling at you. 

“No wonder you were so secretive about your past! You’re a Jedi,” she says.

You take a glance at Mando, who is staring at the saber, looking confused as ever.

Ok, maybe this is good, you think to yourself, trying to relax.

I can pretend I was a Jedi. Sure. I have basically the same training as them.

But who were you kidding. You knew that wasn’t going to cut it.

“A Jedi?” Mando says, and Cara goes into a whole tangent about how amazing the Jedi were. How they fought the Empire till their dying breaths and defended the galaxy. They had been betrayed by their own clone groups, and most of them died in Order 66.

“But you didn’t!” she said and smiled at you.

You managed a smile back, but you had to have looked like a psycho. You were in so much physical and emotional pain from the amount of anxiety flowing through you. You had felt out of control before, but this was more dangerous than you knew.

You were such an idiot getting your hopes up. Thinking that a Mandalorian actually cared for someone like you. How could you have been so stupid.

“Even the colors of the sabers are legendary,” Cara said. “Aren’t they y/n?”

You nod back, but you know what’s coming.

Your truth was about to shine throughout the entire house, reflecting back at you like some sick joke. And you were screwed. You were so screwed.

“Well, let’s see it then,” Cara said and ignited the saber with both hands wrapped around the handle.

“Wait” you scream, but it was too late.

The tears hit your eyes before she even ignited the weapon.

The deep, burning red saber was ignited, and there was no going back.

It’s burning, fire like glow illuminated Cara’s face, and a sunset like tint was shining on Mando’s armor.

He always looked so beautiful when light would reflect off of him, but not like this.

The red from the saber was vibrant, but you had never seen a glow as red as the anger in Cara’s eyes.

She knew what this color meant, and your identity was revealed in all its glory.

A Sith

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @pinkninja200 @bookloverfilmoholic @farfromjustordinary

[bffsoobin]

33

➤ soobin x reader, fluff, very slight angst, idiot best friends oblivious to their mutual pining

↳ prompt 33: “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” “Yes.” “What if I just break his nose a little?

requested?: yes

warnings: swearing, mentions of small injury

A/N: I’m sorry if you were expecting more explicit romance but I feel like this prompt worked better as a mutual pining idiots plot. Also apologies if this is lack luster, it’s been a few months since I wrote anything non-academic! 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

You huddle underneath your comically large black umbrella as sheets of torrential rain pound down on it, washing across the pavement below your feet as if following the tide of the ocean. Your sneakers are soaked, squeaking pathetically as you shift your weight from foot to foot and grimace at the feeling of your socks soggy between your toes. Normally you would have been huddled in your dorm room, working on homework from the morning’s classes or watching reruns of Catfish just to grumble about how stupid a person could be.

But your best friend had texted you with a code blue, so you found yourself in the back parking lot of the campus library, enduring the rain that could only mean Noah’s Arc was due to float by any second. Wind whips your hair into your face cruelly and temporarily blinds you, as if mocking you for daring to brave the storm. You can do little more than scrunch your face oddly and shake your head from side to side in a desperate bid to get the locks away from you since there was no way in hell you were taking a hand off of your umbrella just to push your hair back. A car peels into the parking lot just as you clear your vision. It’s a humble silver sedan, a Hyundai of almost 20 years old, with streaks of rust on the back bumper and a sun-faded license plate. Even in the rain you can make out the litany of decals covering the back end, especially your favorite which boasts the term “MILF: Man I Love Frogs” in bold green letters.

There’s no hesitation in your step as you slosh through the rain to yank at the passenger’s side door, jiggling it several times until the telltale click of the unlock allows you to heave it open fully. Suddenly worried about the state of the car-which is littered with coffee cups, extra clothing, loose notebooks and sheet music and fast food receipts- you shake the umbrella off outside of the car before snapping it shut and closing the door. Beside you Soobin laughs, short and low.

“Thanks for shaking off your umbrella. Really counteracts the gallons of water your brought in with your shoes and pants.” He glances pointedly at where your feet soak the tan carpet into a dark brown and you bristle.

“Thanks for calling a code blue in the middle of a rainstorm. I wouldn’t have fucked your car up if you didn’t have an emergency.” Your voice softens at the reminder of why you’re here, and you finally turn to face him better after you buckle up. He’s devastatingly handsome, as always, but you feel your heart stutter at the fact that he’s wearing the hoodie you bought him for Christmas, the one he had almost slapped you for spending so much money on. It’s slightly damp from the rain and it casts his face in shadows along with the shitty weather and for once you hate the way it looks on him. He drives without asking, already knowing exactly where he wanted to go to talk out whatever had happened.

“I wouldn’t call it a total emergency,” he begins as Spotify takes a few seconds to switch between songs. “Just something I needed you to be in the loop for ASAP.” He looks your way again, eyes calculating for a few moments before the light turns green and he’s making the all too familiar right turn into the tasty and underrated diner that you discovered as freshmen. The rain has not slowed at all and the two of you run into the building to avoiding getting too wet, although your feet squelch with renewed vigor on the red and white tiled floor.

The lighting is much better at your favorite table, and after you place your order you’re able to finally get a good look at Soobin. His soft eyes are rimmed red and puffy, and you can’t tell if it’s the weather, the lack of sleep or his persistent allergies that are the cause. Maybe all three, or maybe something new entirely. He’s staring back at you just as clearly, studying your own face and mannerisms even though it had been years since anything about him was new to you. Of course, other than the day he casually pulled you into his chest and you realized just how tall and broad and handsome he had become.

The thought leaves as scarily quick as it enters, as Soobin turns his face to smile up at the waitress delivering drinks and you catch a glimpse of reddened, mottled looking skin just beneath the seam of the hood. As soon as the waitress retreats you lean across the rickety table and paw at the cotton. Soobin puts up almost no fight, knowing he’s about to lose a battle that hadn’t even begun. The delicate skin of his cheek is alarmingly bright red and looks angry to the touch. Bruises had already begun to form around the outer ring of the graze and your heart clenches when you realize that what you first thought was a circular bruise looks suspiciously similar to a fist. A symphony of anger and concern rise within your chest and your eyes prickle with tears that you know Soobin will wipe away for you if you let them fall. 

“What-” you swallow, saliva suddenly feeling like it’s made of cotton, “Who did that?” 

He smiles shyly, ducking away from your touch but you gently grab at his cheek, keeping him from moving too far. His eyes bore into yours, flicking down to your lips before bringing them back up. Slowly, as if scared to spook you, he encloses his palm around your wrist.

“Promise you won’t yell and disturb everyone else that’s eating?” You nod eagerly even though both you and Soobin know that it was a promise likely to be broken. His hand, steady and radiating warmth into the skin of your wrist tugs tighter, hooking on to you like a life line. 

“That asshole Braden. I was passing him in the lobby of the math building and he was talking to his friends about how-” Soobin stops to swallow an invisible lump in his throat- “how he worked with you on some project and he kept talking about how stupid you were the whole time.” 

Your face twists into a grimace at the reminder of that exact project and then the image of Braden, tall and wide with an angry round face; but then a laugh bubbled from the depths of your chest. 

“To be fair, I was useless for that project. It was film class and it was about that stupid French movie I didn’t watch. So he’s not technically wrong.” Soobin’s frown twitched and then, to your surprise, deepened. Heart dropping at the sight, you felt a chill creep up the back of your neck. For as long as you’d known him, there was always a good chance that a well timed joke could curb his anger or sadness or frustration. 

“It wasn’t that that got me, well, this. After he said that, he said that even though you were stupid he wouldn’t mind seeing you on your knees.” You sucked in a simultaneous breath with Soobin, whose moody look finally transfered to you. It made too much sense now; why your joke hadn’t shifted his mood, why he was so vague about why he needed to talk to you, why he had that bruise. Your heart races as you begin to imagine how the skin will turn deep purples and greens, going sickly yellow around the edges. “It just pissed me off so bad. So I yelled at him and he squared up with me and before I knew it I was on the floor.”

To be honest, you were angrier that Soobin had come out of the altercation hurt than anything. You were used to the comments, the snide bullshit that falls from the mouths of your less kind peers.

“I’m going to kill him.” Soobin laughs, finally, as you clench your fingers into a tight fist around your innocent glass of strawberry lemonade.

“No, you’re not. I’m fine.” He finally removes the hood from his head, and if it weren’t for the bruise- which you now could see spread almost all the way to his ear- you would have been more interested in the fact that his shaggy hair had gotten even longer since the last time you’d seen it this close. You open your mouth to protest just as the waitress approaches again, this time balancing two hot plates of food on her arms. You flash her a sweet smile at the same time she notices the state of Soobin’s face and squints. She doesn’t say anything, though, and leaves almost as quickly as she showed up.

“Are you sure I can’t punch him in the face?” You ask as soon as she’s out of earshot. 

“Yes.” Soobin playfully scowls at you around a mouthful of french fries. Your heart skips at the adorable way his eyebrows knit and his dimples press deeper into his cheeks. Despite yourself, you smile, feeling the tension in the air dissipate around the pair of you. Soobin gestures loosely to the plate in front of you, wordlessly encouraging you to eat.

The pancakes you ordered are just as delicious as you remember them to be every time; fluffy and syrupy with just enough butter. Halfway through a chew, a new idea pops in your head and you struggle to keep chunks of batter from spewing onto the table as you speak.

“What if I just break his nose a little?”

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Personal trainer

Summary: Chris Hemsworth is your new personal trainer. It doesn't sit well with your boyfriend Thor, until it does.

Warnings: 18+ smut, threesome?

Pairing: Thor x Reader, Chris Hemsworth x Reader?

Square filled - Rivalry

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: Written for @avengersbingo Please read warnings before proceeding.

Thor Odinson Taglist – @raspberrymama @bitchycherryblossomlove @jennie22feona @innerpaperexpertcloud @thorfanficwriter @darklydeliciousdesires @longlostinanotherworld

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Flames of anger and jealousy grew bigger and bigger inside Thor as he watched you chatting so animatedly with your new personal trainer Chris.

He couldn’t wrap his head around why you needed one in the first place, in his eyes, you were perfect just the way you were.

But he went with you to the gym religiously, insisted on staying ever since you got a new trainer, even though it was against the gym policy. Nobody really felt brave enough to ask the God of Thunder to get out of the place.

The way you giggled and casually touched his biceps or hit him on the chest every time Chris made a funny comment made Thor’s blood boil. He had an effect on you just as much as he did on every other person in that gym. The women did their level best to strike up a conversation any chance they got, while the men took it up as a challenge, the man was intimidating, but undeniably the hottest trainer you had ever laid eyes on.

You were about to finish a set when Thor walked in to check on you under the pretext of getting you a bottle of water.

“Alright give me ten more (Y/N).”

“I already did like a hundred. Leave me alone.” You joked, panting loudly as you wiped sweat off your forehead, chest heaving while you laid on the mats.

“Ten more no excuses. I’ll take off my shirt if you do it properly.” Chris sent a wink your way, holding your knees in place and fixing your stance for the last ten crunches you were about to do.

“Oh you just want to show off those perfectly chiseled abs.”

You finished the set and exhaled out loud, tired after that grueling core workout he made you do, when Thor walked in.

“I don’t see that shirt coming off Hemsworth. A promise is a promise.”

Your teasing was the first thing Thor heard and he didn’t like it.

“What’s going on here?”

“Oh hi! Uh nothing, Chris made me work hard today. I was just asking for a reward.”

You went over to the Asgardian, stood on your tippy toes and pecked his cheek.

“I’ll take my clothes off for you when we get home, my love.”

Thor’s voice dropped as he spoke, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you closer, not bothered about your sweat-covered body.

“Well let’s get going then.”

Your flirt was cut short when Chris joined you two, Thor’s grip on your side tightening, not that you were surprised.

“Great job today (Y/N), you killed it, like always.”

“More like you killed me. It was a great workout Chris, thank you. You’ve met Thor, haven’t you?”

“Yes of course. How are you mate?”

“Perfect. Now do I get to take my girl home with me?”

“Ah she’s all yours. We’ve had our fun.”

“What does that mean?”

Chris held his hands up in surrender as Thor narrowed his eyes at the man, he clearly disliked the guy and made no attempts of keeping those feelings to himself, the situation begging for you to intervene.

“Alright that’s enough. Chris, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Thor reluctantly let you go as you hugged Chris goodbye, keeping an eye on his hands the entire time to make sure they weren’t going where they were not supposed to be.

.

“Are you being serious right now?”

You demanded as Thor kept his eyes on the road as you drove home, not meeting your gaze, his jaw clenched. It had been a fun workout session and Thor was getting on your nerves with his childish behavior.

“I do not like that man.”

“Well I do.”

Your deliberate comment was laced with irritation, but there was truth to it. Chris was a nice guy and all you wanted was for Thor to get along with him.

“You like him? More than you like me?” He didn’t sound hurt, it was just an unnecessary overreaction which angered you further at this point.

“Right now with the way you’re behaving? Yes!”

You probably shouldn’t have said that, but well you did.

That kept him silent for the entire ride home.

It wasn’t until late in the evening that the pouting and moping God of Thunder found you and apologised for his irrational outburst. Not only did he make up to you, he made sure you remembered who you belonged to, a workout you definitely appreciated more than the one you had in the morning.

.

“Look at you all cute in your workout clothes.”

You giggled as Thor stepped out in his attire - a T-shirt that perhaps was too tight to contain the rippling muscles of his physique, and pants that hung low over those hips but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chris was coming over to your house today and you had planned to go for a little hike along a trail with Thor. It was about time the two boys learned to be comfortable around each other and not start a pissing contest every time they met.

“I’d prefer being called handsome, my love.”

“Promise me you won’t get all crazy and jealous when he arrives.”

“I wasn’t jealous, I just don’t like him getting his hands all over you.”

“Thor!”

“Alright you have my word.”

Just as you were pecking his lips, the doorbell rang causing Thor to pull you in for one last searing kiss and making you giggle before you ran to open the door.

“Well hello! Welcome to our humble abode.” You joked, giving Chris a side hug and inviting him in, knowing Thor was lurking behind.

“Thank you (Y/N) you’re looking great. I see those squats working wonders.” He winked, joining in your laughter before Thor made his presence known.

“Thor! Nice seeing you again. I didn’t know you were joining us today.”

They shook hands like civilised men before turning to you.

“Yeah I thought it’d be a good idea to do this together. Shall we?”

“After you, my lady.” Chris bowed and gestured for you to take the lead, as you did, Thor slipped in his hand into yours and clasped it firmly.

.

The hike took thirty minutes to reach the summit, but Chris had managed to turn it into a workout for you, making you jog the entire length not once but twice. By the time it was finished, the two men weren’t phased however you were left a sweaty panting mess, hands on your knees as you glared at them.

“It’s not fair!”

“Alright I’m going for another one.” Chris announced, racing back down alone while Thor made sure you got some water as you perched yourself on a large rock, watching the sun go down on the horizon.

Your Greek God of a trainer shortly returned sans his T-shirt, a self-confident grin adorned his face as he came to a halt right next to you.

Tiny beads of sweat made his body glisten in the golden light cast by the setting sun. The dips and plains on his torso enhanced, your mind was too busy making up scenarios where you ran your hands all over that perfect body.

Before you knew it, Thor was also shedding the fitted tee you’d made him wear, being nonchalant about it but you knew what was going on. Shaking your head was all you did because nobody was at a loss here. Being surrounded by two drop-dead gorgeous, strong and very shirtless men was better than anything else.

“Okay you two. If you’re done basking in all your half naked glory, shall we head home?”

Neither of them answered but made no attempts to put their clothes on either. You shrugged and stood up when the muscles in your legs screamed.

“Come on (Y/N), don’t be the odd one out. You know you want to.”

Chris gestured for you to take your tank top off.

“Oh there’s a lot of things I want…”

You bit your bottom lip before walking over to your boyfriend and asking your boyfriend to carry you the rest of the way.

Thor was more than happy to oblige.

.

It felt like a heady mixture, having the two men you desired the most this close to you.

You felt Chris’s hands move slowly along the side of your neck, down to your shoulder before sliding your bra straps off and letting it fall down your arms. All while your mouth moved in sync with Thor’s as he kissed you senseless, groping at your breasts over the fabric until it readily slid down.

You wasted no time in unhooking your lacy bra and throwing it blindly across the room. Your hands found home in Thor’s hair, gripping and pulling on the ends as your tongues danced in harmony until Chris covered your breasts with his large hands, those deft fingers pinching and rolling your nipples until they peaked and pebbled.

A sinful moan escaped your lips as the kiss broke, your head thrown back onto Chris’s shoulder as his lips found the heated skin of your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses while Thor watched, stroking his erection through his boxers.

The blurry but arousing combination of hands and mouths continued while you felt yourself getting wetter by the second, your panties a complete mess at this point.

Chris let his hands slide lower, along your stomach and down into your panties all while Thor had recaptured your lips and was claiming your senses.

Your wet folds were played with agile fingers and your arousal was gathered between them before two of those fingers entered your warmth.

The stretch felt wonderful as you cried out, your voice muffled in the kiss. The two burly gentlemen touching and kissing everywhere, worshipping and devouring you.

Thor moved down to close his lips around your nipple, licking and sucking languidly while Chris worked his fingers inside you at an equally slow pace, stretching you out and getting you ready.

The Asgardian slipped his hands behind and squeezed your cheeks before finding your puckered hole, rubbing along the entrance and making you moan loudly in wanton need.

“Chris…”

“My love.”

“Quit teasing you two…”

“(Y/N)?”

“Mmm..”

“Wake up, my love.”

You were dazed and disoriented when your eyes fluttered open. Thor’s concerned figure looming over you as you slowly came to your senses and realized it wasn't real. A wet dream featuring the love of your life and the man you were shamelessly lusting over.

“It was a dream.” You muttered, repeating it to yourself as if reminding you that it could never happen.

Thor’s hand slid down your body and between your legs where your arousal was evident. You’d slept naked tonight, which meant the sheets were probably ruined. A smirk formed on his face as his fingers teased your glistening folds.

“Just a dream..could be a reality if you want.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Good thing he’s sleeping in the guest room.”

My first time writing for Mr Hems. Thots???

[daydreamed-snippets]

hello! i absolutely adored your addition to gingerly’s prompt ask :) i was wondering if you could continue it, and no worries if you can’t! thanks <3

I realize the more I write this the longer it’s getting. I probably have imagined six parts or more???? I have other WIPs that need attention, but I am so, so, so, so thankful that you like the first part of my prompt response to @gingerly-writing I’m going to post this and then part 3 hopefully tomorrow 👀 👀 👀 👀Maybe??? then take a small break to post some other stuff. Lol this is a continuation I didn’t really plan for, but am definitely excited about!!

@chibicelloking @lolafaiy

Part One Here

A dull thrum of voices stirred sidekick out of surly drowsiness. The articulation of words was muddied, coming across as garble before snapping into clarity the more they roused. There was “monitor vitals”, “recommended range”, “even by a fraction” that registered in the back of their mind. Teammates must be running some tests again.

But they couldn’t move. Not a muscle. They weren’t paralyzed, they were just restrained. Which was odd because that wasn’t—

They felt the string back around their neck again. That feeling of dread rustled, usually abating when they returned to headquarters and the familiarity of their bunk. Memories came no longer concealed by lethargy. Of the teammates being pinned down by supervillain. Of their oh-so-brave self-sacrifice. Of teammates using The Machine to pry open a portal. Of sidekick losing consciousness in supervillain’s arms. 

Sidekick held their breath, letting out a quiet moan. It didn’t work, did it? Teammates didn’t make it to that sewer way after supervillain choked them into unconsciousness. And if they did, they were unable to save sidekick. They were captured.

So what now? 

Policy would have them stay mute. To be uncooperative. To trumpet bravado and bare their teeth. 

Policy would have their self-sacrifice complete its course to martyrdom. 

Feeling their sinew stretch to uncomfortable lengths, the sidekick’s mind fortified itself, resolved to do their due diligence. They could die for the cause. They were trained to do so. Engrained by doctrine, encouraged parables of valor, and promises of glory. They weren’t a hero, yes, but they’d surely get a hero’s burial. A hero’s honor, and admittance to the halls of the nobly fallen. After all, it was promised to those slain for the cause. 

Noting how their wrists were held high above their head and were bound together, sidekick tensed their muscles against the wire to test how well it held their arms, chest, hips, and legs still. They were hanging in midair, everything was drawn taut, everything perfectly balanced so that the threads bowed them back like a rag doll on display; fraying and terribly exposed. 

At least it didn’t cut their skin this time.

The easy solution: they could mount a daring escape by making a portal around themselves. No on second thought due to calculation risks, they could make approximately 47 mini portals, severing the strings. Then once they got a better gauge of the room, they could make one large enough for them to drop through. They doubted they would be able to go far, maybe outside this room after they opened their eyes and calculated the circumference of it. Their weakness lies in the fact that not knowing where they were meant they were limited in where they could go. Power hinging on all of the maps in their head. If they could just see it on the map then they could calculate the needed trajectory and portal to it. 

But they had neither the time nor the luxury for that now.

Taking all 47 at a time, sidekick opened dime-size portals an inch above where the wires met their skin. Calculations playing in the background of their psyche. They had to be precise—they must have caution or risk searing flesh from bone. Wire fractured and cracked in midair, and sidekick dropped a small length, feet hitting the floor, knees buckling. 

They barely had a second to get up.

A shrill alarm, jarring, and ear-splitting sounded. 

Fire followed, blazing across their skin, only somehow from the inside radiating out, originating from their neck, and spiraling down. They writhed under the voltaic ministrations, convulsing until it ceased, finally falling limp.

Someone came to stand before them, and sidekick considered the familiar boots warily before flicking their gaze up, proximity kick-starting their heartbeat. And it ran wild. Supervillain settled before them, appearing polished, normal costume hidden under a button-up shirt loosely tucked into a pair of trousers. A light pea coat pulled the ensemble together. Their expression, however, looked like they were ready to pounce, eyes veiled behind a tight expression.

“Perfect. You’re awake.”

Should sidekick go for bravado, or would a more fearful submissive approach best serve them, now that their escape attempt has failed? Unsure, sidekick opted for a mix of both, figuring, at any rate, the body count associated with supervillain alone would suggest that they tread carefully. “Wh-what did you do to me? My teammates—”

“Your teammates don’t know where you are, and it’s going to stay that way for a while." They crouched agilely, a panther before a frightened yearling, tucking a finger under their chin to hold their complete attention. "I would advise against doing anything that would jeopardize your standing with me, puppy. Like trying to use your power to escape. I am not what one would call longsuffering. I may have shown you a smidgen of my mercy but don’t expect it to be par for the course." Supervillain motioned to the room with a nod. "If you’re wondering where you are, may I present to you my humble garrison. This is the medical wing, with medic and assistant behind me. We’ve removed the association’s tracking device, and replaced it with something far more fetching.”

Trailing a thumb down their neck, supervillain fiddled with the band around their throat, a neatly fitted collar. How did sidekick not notice that? It felt not much different from supervillain’s wires—something foreign and constricting. Ears burning, their face paled, sweat lining their brow. If this could get worse or more humiliating, they weren’t sure how. 

Threading a finger through the ring, supervillain wrenched sidekick off the ground, onto their hands and knees like a true dog. 

A strangled mewl tore from the sidekick’s throat. 

“You do get the gist of this, don’t you, darling? You’re a clever one. Make a portal without my direct order, and this device will give you an electric shock that will render you immobile at best, unconscious at worst.” Their shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “And it hurts like hell, or so I’m told so that should be incentive enough.”

Oh no. 

This was worse. 

So much worse than anything sidekick had endured at the Hero’s Association. Ignoring their basic human needs, ok. They can handle that. Belittling them, playing passive-aggressive games? Cool, cool, cool, cool. The occasional punishment? Everyone endures the intermittent blow or two. Suck it up, sidekick. But humiliation like this? They wanted to crawl under a rock and never be seen again. 

“Y-you,” they stammered, dread churning, turning into something they hadn’t felt in a while. Rage. “You, you, you jerk!”

“You jerk?” supervillain echoed a deep chuckle. “Dear lord, you know you should be thanking me, my very young and inventive labradoodle. One, for not taking your life as I had wanted. Two, for not ringing out your delicate neck despite that little stunt just now. And, three for rescuing you from such neglectful owners—” 

“I will never thank you for that!”

Silence filled the room, allowing the mechanical hum of lab equipment to permeate. Medic and assistant tossed glances at each other over supervillain's shoulder, as a shadow passed over supervillain’s face. That thumb returned to sidekick’s lips, the latter’s breath catching at their misstep. “You said they.”

“W-what?”

“When you spoke about your teammates, and how they’ve been fighting me all of these years. You said they. Not we’ve been fighting, but they. You haven’t used a single possessive pronoun when speaking about the six of you—or anyone in the association for that matter.” 

No. No, sidekick didn’t mean it like that. They belonged. They were a team. They are a team.

“You keep them separate from yourself,” the supervillain continued, stoking their cheek absently. “Whether consciously or unconsciously, you do. From the short time I discovered that it was a person and not a machine behind the Hero’s Association’s success, I’ve learned this: your ideals are of self-immolation. You offer yourself up as a lamb for your teammate’s success; for the association’s success. You foolishly stare down your enemy in hopes for what? Recognition? Adoration? That’s clearly not working, is it? I simply called you a dazzling diamond in the ruff, and you flushed like someone newly in love.” That tone was back. A wanton timbre for power, and sidekick face colored on command. They brought their hand up to hide it. “Your actions are like a puppy: young and misguided. Training will fix it.”

Throwing them a salacious grin, supervillain called another thread to their hand and knotted it around sidekick's collar ring. Easing off of their haunches, they stood, the wire going slack. “I will delve into these mysteries soon enough. Just as you will come to discover, in due time, that you are much better off with me than against me.”

Sidekick blood boiled, finally at the tipping point. 

They saw red. 

Supervillain thought they knew them? Thought that they were such an open book? Palms fisting, sidekick wanted very much to strike out at the supervillain. To wipe that knowing looking off their face. A feat, they realized, that could accomplish with words. And something this time with more punch than ‘jerk’. Screaming, they let out an uncharacteristic string of curses; ones they’d heard in passing, ones that had even been directed at them. Being a human gateway didn’t afford them many friends their own age or otherwise, and the other heroes were quick to ruffle their hair, and blame them for mishaps than befriend them.

Supervillain didn’t move. Even to tighten the leash. 

But medic spoke out. 

“Eh, yo, villy, your puppy be barking at you. Want me to shut them up?” Their crisp white coat stood in neat contract to their rich skin; voice speaking of hardship and closely won battles. Finger hovering over their datapad.

“Give it a minute,” supervillain said, as sidekick let out one last cry, fists hitting the cold tile, utterly spent. They bent over, muscles quivering in release. “See, it wasn’t necessary, medic. This particular breed responds to a more patient touch.”

“All that patient touch and you gon’ be wondering why you got missing fingers. Look, I don’t know about pets, but, this seems real sus.”

“Good thing you’re not in charge of them.”

“I guess, tho, I just be saying,” they let out a sigh, shaking their head, returning their attention to a beeping screen. “You know how much I love them pathetic animals.” Medic shot a look at sidekick, as their eyes bounced between the two, mouthing I don’t, and slid their thumb across their neck when supervillain wasn’t looking. 

Sidekick almost whimpered. 

Supervillain flexed their hands, fingers gracefully dancing as wires loosened from the ceiling, fell in a heap on the ground then receded altogether, sheltering in the supervillain’s pea coat. Only the one wire connected to their collar remained visible, wrapping itself around the supervillain’s wrist that. Like a bracelet, they tucked it away in their sleeve, then opted to move rather than command sidekick to heel. 

Lurching forward, sidekick had no choice but to follow. 

[husbandomail-archive]

Hi there, Jojo! I'm the previous anon's friend who asked about the matchups and I would like to humbly ask you for a matchup please? Thank you!

Gender: Female (afab), she/her/hers

Series: Bakugan, Jojo (any parts , just no villains please EXCEPT FOR La Squadra) and Digimon!

Match-Up Preferrence: I'm actualily biromantic asexual and I like both but I usually lean more on towards guys!

Personality:

Oh boy,,,, I don't honestly know how to start this one but my personality depends on the people I'm usually around with but so far my sister has described my personality can be 'extreme, that has no in between' like I can be extremely nice but also can be extremely mean but I have more to me than meets the eye actually! Here are some of my traits listed down (I would describe this the way most people would describe it like the ones we see on character profiles but anyways)

For the positive ones I have:

-smart

-introspective

-looks out for others

-kind

-creative

-funny

-ambitious

-determined

-charming

-brings positive energy to conversations

-seems to speak with gentle words

-willing to change

-sticks to personal opinions but is happy to learn from a mistake (if spoken to nicely and not yelled at)

-empathetic

-loyal

-will do anything for their loved ones

-humble

-stands up for what's right and will fight someone for you (not in a literal way but it still counts) and will not hesitate to defend them or call the person out on their bs

-curious

-is the designated 'chaotic wine aunt/gremlin/ mom friend'

-brave

-understanding and very wise

Negative ones:

-spends a lot of time in my head than being down to earth

-gives out advices to other people but never follows them

-always has to prove people wrong

-sarcastic at times

-cynical

-procrastinates

-has to rely on other people's opinions to see who I really am because I dont know who I am at certain days

-sharp-tongued

-tends to forget about other people and or forgets to do certain things but always says 'I'll do it later' (its bc of my adhd)

-people always assume that I have low EQ

-often, if not, commonly perceived as grumpy and always angry

-stubborn but not reckless

-is either cautious or too trusting of people at times to the point it just becomes a mess

-introverted

-sometimes would prefer the easy way out than the hard road taken

-seen as scatter-brained

-pretends everything is okay when clearly, it's not

-doesnt want to be seen or perceived as weak

-too independent and believes that I can do everything by myself when in reality I just don't like asking people for help because I think I'm a bother to them

-has the mindset that no one will love me for me

-likes love but is afraid to be with someone to avoid getting hurt or hurting someone

Passions, Hobbies and Goals:

-Well as of now, my main goal is to finish up college and become successful and be rich eventually but also I'd also love to like, if ever I got to like have enough money, be able to donate it to organisations that need it and whatnot and I'm a huge supporter and advocate for animal welfare, rights for minorities, women's rights and everything in between as long as they're honest and provide receipts.

Though I dont exactly like do work like they do, for example, field work, I just want to help out in any way I can and the best thing I could do is to spread awareness and talk about these kinds of issues whenever I can (and once I have like sufficient knowledge about the topic itself)

As for my hobbies, I got lots of them to the point my grandma says I'm the jack of all trades but the master of none. Most of them are artistic exploitations such as drawing, listening to music (or playing music since I have like instruments of my own), writing, crafting, cooking and reading, I also like learning about the occult and I usually dabble with divination and astrology and I collect stuff like funko pops and books but I'm usually seen on my phone and being on social media where I shitpost memes to my friends and talking to them or I'm playing games like Stardew Valley!

I think that's about it! Thank you, Jojo! Hope you have a great day/night/afternoon! 💕💕💕😘😘😘🌸🌸🌸✨✨✨

I apologize for taking so long, please thank your friend for her patience with me!

I’d pair you with Gus Grav!

I’ll admit, getting to know each other would be rough at first— it’s very difficult to get past his emotional walls, and the way you’re always running at full throttle in any direction might be a bit much for him until you both know each other better. That being said, he manages to work alongside someone like Shadow Prove, so you’ve got a good shot at working your way into his life.

Once the two of you properly get to know each other, Gus quietly admits to himself that he prefers your company over some of his coworkers; even some of the traits you call negative appeal to him. You’re both introverted, meaning you know when he needs to be left alone; you might think being sharp-tongued is a negative, but he thinks it’s amusing when you whittle Lync’s ego down to size. He also appreciates your general introspective nature— he’s spent far too long with a group of impulsive idiots, so it’s refreshing to have someone who can sit back and strategize together.

We know Gus is interested in humanity, so he’d find your hobbies really interesting no matter what; yeah sure, the vestals have music and art, but there’s just something different when you’re the one doing it. He’d love to watch you sketch and paint, or sit quietly and listen to you practicing instruments whether you’re good or bad with them. He’ll also listen intently whenever you discuss astrology— he might not believe in it himself, but Earth has constellations far different from the ones he’d grown up with, and he’s curious about what you believe in them.

Gus really is willing to work around a lot of things for the people he loves. Once you’re in his life, he’s much more patient than he would’ve been otherwise; he’s observant enough to notice when you’re quietly slipping back into yourself and away from the world around you. Gus is also introspective and keeps to himself, so he’s willing to make a deal on that front— he’ll be open about everything with you, but only if you do the same in turn. It’s difficult to be vulnerable, especially when you’re so used to being isolated and alone, but the two of you can grow past that together.

[startanewdream]

traitor

For @sweeethinny, who prompted for "8. You’re upset one night, and I need you to know that I’m here for you, and I’m kissing your forehead to show I’m here for you". She asked for a fight between Harry and James, but since it wasn't working, I made him discuss with Sirius for a subject that is very sensitive for them.

Angst, canon compliant, 2k words, and set right before the Potters casted the Fidelius Charm.

'You are mad, Sirius', James declares, eyes shining with undisguised fury. 'How could you —'

'Do you think I enjoy saying this?', Sirius replies, his voice in a carried whisper, none of them wanting to wake up the baby sleeping on his crib.

'It seems so if you are suggesting it'.

'I am not suggesting, I’m being honest here, James. There is a traitor between us'.

James shivers as it always happens when someone mentions that word. He hates it more than any other.

Traitor.

It's never really said out loud. It's whispered in fear, it's written in the eyes of every member of the Order he has seen lately, as few as they are, mistrust as they consider each other, as they look around and wonder who it might be.

Someone is betraying them.

It's not bad luck that they have been having lately, their numbers reducing slowly but consistently with information that only the Order should know. Someone has been spilling their secrets to the other side, to Voldemort.

They are losing this war because there is a traitor between them and it's becoming more obvious that the traitor is someone James has known most of his life.

But he can't accept it. Not after the last ten years. Not after the Marauders.

'It is not Remus', he insists, dragging Sirius outside Harry's room. 'It can't be'.

'Why not? He has been spending too much time away, he doesn't look like himself —'

'Of course he doesn't! You know what he has been doing'.

'Do I? Do you? Because he hasn't told us'.

‘We know it’s something to do with werewolves — but some things are classified, no one knows everything that’s going on —’

‘That only started recently’, Sirius reminds him, his voice insistent. ‘Before that, he knew about Dorcas and the Prewett and Dearborn —’

‘Same as we did’.

‘Well, considering Voldemort is after your son, I don’t think you are the traitor’, Sirius says sarcastically. ‘Or do you think I might be?’

‘Never’, James says easily, not an ounce of doubt in his voice. ‘But that’s it, Padfoot. I know you. I know Moony. I know Wormtail. I would give my life for any of you in a blink, and I can’t believe —’

‘There is a traitor, James’, Sirius cuts him. ‘And it’s one of the Marauders. It’s not me. It’s not you. It can’t be Peter, he would never have the heart for it. There is only one left’.

‘You are wrong, Sirius. I refuse to believe this is true’.

‘Just admit out loud there is a traitor, James’. Sirius grabs him by the shoulder, and James sees the tears in his grey eyes, all filled with despair and anguish. He knows Sirius hates this almost as he does. ‘Say it’.

‘I can’t’.

Sirius shakes his head. ‘Your family will die because you refuse to admit someone is betraying you? Are you so willing to risk Lily? Your infant son?’

‘Fuck you, Sirius’, James curses, his voice low and dark now. ‘You know I won’t risk their lives. You know I love them’.

‘Then cast that bloody charm. Hide yourselves. And don’t tell Remus’.

‘How can you say this? How can you turn your back to him so easily?’

‘Now fuck you, James. Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I enjoy seeing you for the first time in months, seeing my godson for the first time, and having to tell you someone that used to be our best friend has changed sides?’

‘It surely seems easy’, he replies coldly. ‘Because I would never say this. I would never doubt any of you’.

‘Then you are a bloody fool! Oh, fuck it, I can’t do this. I can’t stay here and watch you kill yourself because you are just too stubborn!’

‘Then go!’, James yells, out of himself now, and he hears Harry crying in the other room. ‘We will ask someone else to be our Secret Keeper. Someone that will not have a problem sharing it with the people we trust’.

‘God, James! There is a moment to be loyal and there is a moment to be smart —’

‘It is not Remus, Sirius. I know him. There is not one single piece on his body that is evil’.

‘He is a werewolf’, Sirius replies, and now at least James sees the shame on his eyes as he throws back the word that always separated Remus from them and, yet, was what brought them together too. They changed their lives because of Remus’ condition.

‘And how many times did we support him for it? How many times did we assure him, in the boy’s dorm room, that it didn’t matter? That his place was there with us?’

‘We are not in school anymore. Real world is nothing like Hogwarts. That changes people’.

‘I know, I’m not stupid! But the friendship we forged there was true. It is true. I won’t give up on this’.

‘Then you’ll die’, Sirius says, furious once more. ‘And you’ll drag your family together because you are too loyal to believe someone is betraying you’.

And then Sirius passes by him, not looking back, and James has a mind to go after him; but Harry is still crying, so he enters his son’s room, picking him up and trying to soothe him as much as himself.

Harry sleeps eventually, but James’ pain doesn’t lessen. It won’t happen, not until this bloody war is over, and if the future of it depends upon the sleeping baby in his arms, then it’s still far away, because James won’t ever let anything happen to his son. He doesn’t care about a stupid prophecy, Harry is just a baby. He doesn’t get to be responsible for the wizarding world.

It’s James that should fix this. It’s his duty. He is a father, for Merlin’s sake, and even if he still doesn’t know what he is doing, he knows it’s his job to protect Harry from… from one of his friends.

That’s the worst thing he ever thought of.

He sits on the couch in Harry’s bedroom, in the place he watched Lily nurse Harry to sleep a hundred times before, and the tears fall quietly on his face. It’s the fear and the shame, the hate and the pain.

Someone is betraying them. They’ve moved back to Godric’s Hollow and placed his parent’s house under a dozen different protection spells all because their flat is London was attacked; it was guarded too, a new place that only a few knew about, and yet they had escaped by pure luck — five more minutes and they would have get caught in the fire.

And then it was obvious someone had leaked the information; Voldemort was there in person, hoping to kill the prophesied one, a baby that couldn’t even sit back then.

Now there is talk of the most drastic of the protections, the charm that Lily is working on to keep them away from the world, and everyone is telling him the same. Don’t trust your friends.

But he can’t not trust them. He loves them and they love him back. How could not, with everything they shared? James always wanted a bigger family; he had his parents, of course, but James had wanted brothers, someone his age that could share more of the things with him, because he had grown up loved and yet a little lonely. And he had found the companion he craved for in Sirius, Remus and Peter, the three Gryffindors with whom he was so lucky to share a dorm for seven years.

Merlin, he shared secrets with them. They broke the law together; they made the impossible when they were fifteen, all young and stupid and so bright. They trusted each other.

How can one of them ever betray him? How can he be so wrong about them?

Not Sirius, who he trusts more than his shadow, who is his brother in every way but by blood, who had looked for him when he had no family anymore; Sirius that is his best friend ever since they shared a compartment, Sirius who turned away from his family tradition and who joined James in every decision he had ever made.

Not Remus, who is the most humble of them, who they accepted with open arms and who always looked as if he didn’t believe he got to be happy, to be loved. Remus is the kindest, the most compassionate; who once a month turned into something that was not him at all, and still seemed to understand who were those animals that showed up every full moon, recognizing them for the friends they were.

Not Peter, who always needed their protection and their attention, looking as surprised as Remus that he was accepted; Peter who had always wanted to please, the first one to understand when someone had a problem and to offer comfort, who worked twice than any of the Marauders to join them in anything they wanted. Peter, who had been afraid but had not hesitated before joining the Order, because he was brave even if he didn’t believe in it sometimes.

It is not them. They are a group. The Marauders.

Mischief managed.

That kind of thing is not broken easily.

And yet Sirius is doubting and James is being forced to accept that someone is not speaking the truth, that someone actively told Voldemort how to go after each of the members of the Order until the moment they can present Voldemort with the thing he wants most…

His son. Not Harry…

‘James?’, Lily’s voice calls him softly, and a moment later she opens the door, the light from the hall illuminating the dark room.

‘In here’, he whispers, his voice rough, turning his face so she doesn’t see it. He places Harry quietly on his crib, careful not to wake him, and dries his face, watching his son sleeping. ‘I will just stay here a moment, Lily, I will —’

But he stops, because Lily is next to him, her arms around his waist as she lays her head against this shoulder.

‘Come on’, she asks, kissing his shoulder and dragging him outside. She takes him to the kitchen, making him sit at the table. ‘I made you tea’.

‘Thanks’.

She gives him a cup, standing next to him, her hands running through his hair soothingly. It makes him sleepy in a good way. Almost relaxed.

He wishes he could sleep until all of his problems were gone; or not. If that happened, someone else would have fixed them, and James doesn’t want to burden anyone else. It’s his job, as useless as he feels these days.

And yet James feels so tired.

‘I saw Sirius’, she whispers, just a little hesitating. ‘This is not what I was thinking of when I asked him to come see you’.

‘Yeah, talking about a traitor kind of kills the mood’.

‘James…’

‘I can’t do it, Lily. He says it’s Remus, that it can only be him, but it’s Moony. His favourite holiday is Easter because of the chocolate eggs, I mean, how can anyone be evil like that?’

‘I know’.

‘Or Peter, he cried when he held Harry for the first time, how was that the face of a traitor?’

‘I know’.

‘And Sirius — he hates the Dark Arts, it’s everything he stands against, it’s everything he isn’t —’

‘I know, James, I know’. She hugs him, her arms around his head, and he loses himself in the warmth of her body.

‘What do I do, Lily? How can I mistrust any of them?’

‘That I don’t know, love’, she whispers, her voice heavy too. ‘But we will need to. There can be only one Secret Keeper’.

He breaks a little apart to look her in the eyes. Lily looks sad too.

‘It’ll be Sirius’, he says, confident in this at least. Sirius would die before he ever betrayed them, and if James needs to trust someone with everything he holds the most, it will be in him, even as fear threatens to crush him. If anything happens to Sirius…

‘We will start there’, Lily says. ‘One step at a time, like we say to Harry when he is wanting to walk. Don’t lose hope, James. Please’.

He knows why she is asking this. Sometimes, especially when they have been confined together for so long, just the two of them, it feels like the only person they can count on is in each other.

James knows this is not true. They have friends. They have a family.

But for now they are alone in this house that feels more and more like a prison, and James can’t do anything but have hope that things will get better. He has faith for Lily; she has for him. That’s how they keep going even in the darkest moments.

‘Ok’, he promises, and she places a soft kiss on his forehead like he had done thousands of times before, being taller than her. It’s a kiss that speaks of reassurance and that reminds him he is not alone.

Even if one of his best friends, one of the people he loves so much, is betraying them.

‘We will be fine’, she whispers, and though he knows she is lying, he lets himself believe in it.

[ohtobealady]

Number 8 ❤️love your work!!

Here is part 2 to this drabble. There may need to eventually be a part 3 … not entirely happy with it, but it’s done

I’ve fleshed out a scene already in existence from JFellz - S2E8 (once again). You’ll recognize the borrowed dialogue.

Oh, and S2 Robert is definitely depressed… we’re all in agreement there, right?

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#8 - Things You Said When You Were Crying

O’Brien had changed her nightgown for her. He noticed that now. She was dressed in a looser one, a cream-colored cotton gown, one with crocheted lace around the neck and shoulders, and not stains of sickness and sweat through the silk.

Though that didn’t matter. Her illness was still all too evident in the dark circles at her eyes, the pallor of her cheeks, the oily matting of her curls that stuck to her throat and forehead. An inner voice whispered how beautiful she was, and Robert had to clench his jaw from saying it aloud. Now was not the time.

He watched her from the chair beside her bed. He watched as Cora’s tired eyes met his own, as she peered down at his hands that he held in his lap, and then back up at his face.

He’d told her she was a sight to gladden his heart, and it had been the truth. Well. Mostly the truth. For while his heart leapt up in thanks at her being here, alive, his soul was heavy and he knew that Cora sensed that.

Of course she did. She knew him.

There was a small movement then, a decided one on Cora’s part, when she let her hand fall from the resting place of her middle and to her bed. He moved his eyes from her face and to her hand, her offer softening the moment, and he exhaled.

He slid his palm against her smaller one and grasped her, but the warmth he thought he’d feel at touching her, the warmth he always felt when he held her hand, was overshadowed by her sigh.

No. Not sigh. It was a small shudder of breath, a sound that felt both like relief and yet like pain. It was a sound so heavily laden with emotion that it drew a tight knot inside of his throat. For Cora did not often show her weaknesses.

Oh, just as Cora knew him, he knew his Cora. He knew her perhaps even better than he knew himself.

No -- especially better than he knew himself.

“We're all right, aren't we Robert?”

He forced himself to look up at her, at her frightened words, the brave verbiage no mask for the doubt he heard in her voice and saw in her lovely face. It was the face he had pictured as he bowed his head, praying in his chair in her room; praying as Doctor Clarkson confessed last-ditch efforts to help her.

My God, please, do not take her from me.

“Of course we are,” he heard himself reply, and he wanted to mean it. Yet another desperate prayer.

Cora lifted her chin slightly. He saw as her eyes began to glisten, as she began to blink heavily, and a creeping feeling of alarm burned up his back and chest. She was crying. And he knew why.

She loved him.

Yes, he knew she loved him, but perhaps recently it had only been a fact, not a feeling. And the confirmation that she still felt such love for him — this woman who said she loved him in touches and glances and flirts but who had said the words aloud only a handful of times — it prodded the hollow, aching places inside of him.

Her voice cracked when she spoke, “Only I know I got so caught up in everything, I think I neglected you, and if I did, I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize to me.” A command, and though quiet, perhaps harsher than he meant. But his heart was bleeding behind his ribs.

He watched her still, as she stared at their hands. And he watched her as she moved her weakened fingertips against his skin. He felt every year of their life in her touch: the way she had looked peering up at him on their wedding night, the overwhelming joy he felt at Mary’s birth, the grief they’d shared at Papa’s death. He didn’t want the memories to end.

He needed her.

He needed her, and he felt humbled that she was just there, caressing his hand.

For the first time in years, he felt it again. It was the feeling he felt when he first realized he loved his wife: Awe. Awe that she wanted him next to her. Awe that he was allowed to touch her, to be with her, to speak to her. Awe that she simply existed. How could this person possibly exist?

But alongside the awe, there was despair, because unlike before, the awe did not bring with it euphoria. And he hated himself for not allowing his love for her — this all-consuming love for her — dissolve any of the sadness he felt. Not sadness at what he’d done. Sadness at something he couldn’t explain. He had no right to this sadness, and it had no right to him. And yet … it remained.

And guilt. But he deserved this guilt.

“I think I’d like to rest.”

He watched her as she spoke, as her voice caught in her throat, as a tear escaped her eye. But she didn’t look up at him. She only held his hand, batting her lashes, trying to stem the tears he wished she didn’t shed. He was not worth her tears.

“Of course.“

“Will you stay here? Please.” A hoarser whisper, and her eyes met his. “Just for a little while.”

He felt her use all her strength to squeeze his hand, her thin and rattling chest heaving beneath her gown, her red-rimmed eyes searching his. The blues of them bright, and lovely. Achingly lovely.

He felt the burn in the bridge of his nose, the flare of his nostrils, the unwarranted wobble of his chin. And his shoulders shook with his breath. He nodded and tightened his grasp on her fingers.

She loved him. And he loved her. He loved her. He loved her. “Always.”