#but have never seen someone have him do more for his recovery than the standard healing time whatever it may be

[autumnrory]

this fic had steve in physical therapy after the end of catws but then sam thinks he should've healed fast enough after siberia to rescue them from the raft with more immediacy? make it make sense

[thelastspeecher]

Stanuary '24 - Week Two: Possess & Sacrifice

This takes place in my Smallville AU, in which Stan and Ford take the role of Clark Kent as seen on my favorite TV show of all time, Smallville. And that's all you get for context. I'm tired.

Enjoy.

———————————————————————————————————–

              Stan paced back and forth, pointedly avoiding looking at the eerily still figure of Fiddleford on a slab of icy crystal.  Ford, much like Fiddleford, wasn’t moving, merely standing by their friend, staring helplessly at him.  The voice of their biological father filled the cavernous crystalline fortress.

              “He will not die. It will take some time, but he will recover.”  Ford slumped in relief.  “Humans continue to surprise me with how much they resemble us.  I would not have expected him to handle a Kryptonian malady so well.”

              “Bullshit,” Stan muttered under his breath.  “Like a damn computer could be surprised.”  He stopped pacing, Jor-El’s words fully catching up in his head.

              He’s doing that sneaky thing, isn’t he?

              “How long is ‘some time’?” Stan asked.  Ford’s shoulders tensed again.

              “It is difficult to tell at this point.  It could be months or years.”

              “Years?” Ford croaked.  Stan glared at the closest crystal.  “But- but- is there anything you can do?”  The response took a while to come.

              “Yes.”  As per usual, the crystals lit with a dim glow when Jor-El spoke.  “I know of a way to speed his recovery to a mere week.”

              “Then do that!” Stan snapped.  “And why the hell didn’t you say you could?”  Jor-El was silent.  “Hello?”

              “There is a saying on Earth that I am sure your adoptive mother taught you,” Jor-El said slowly.

              Dammit.  If Mom taught us the saying, it’s not gonna be sunshine and rainbows.

              “There is no such thing as a free lunch.”

              “A free-”  Stan shared a horrified look with Ford.  “Are you joking?  We’re your kids!  You won’t help our friend who got sick because of us?”

              “You are my children, yes,” Jor-El said, the AI maddeningly patient.  “However, by both the standards of Earth and Krypton, you are adults.”

              “If we were seventeen, you’d do it without question,” Ford said, his voice tight with anger.  “But because we’re barely out of high school, you’re insisting on something in return.  Is that correct?”

              “Yes.”

              “I knew coming here was a bad idea,” Stan spat.  “Nothing good ever comes from Jor-El.”

              “Stanley,” Ford hissed.

              “Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about taking him up on his stupid offer!”

              “What choice do I have?” Ford asked.  “I won’t let Fiddleford lose months or years of his life to recover from something he would have never encountered if it weren’t for me.”  Ford looked down at Fiddleford and took a deep breath.  “Jor-El, what do you want from me?”

              “Acceptance of your destiny.”

              “Oh hell no,” Stan burst out.  Ford glared at him, but Stan steamrolled on.  “When are you gonna drop this destiny thing?”

              “When my sons have embraced it,” Jor-El said.  Not much emotion came through his AI voice, but he did sound more exasperated than usual.  “The two of you are more than the mere humans that raised you.”

              “Here comes the anti-human racism,” Stan said, rolling his eyes.

              “You have great potential.  Once you reach it, you will be as gods on Earth!”

              “We don’t care about being gods!” Stan said.  “We just wanna be us!  And ‘embracing our destinies’ isn’t part of that!”

              “You are spirited and rebellious, Ley-El,” Jor-El said.  “Much like my darling Lara.”  Stan froze, blindsided by a casual mention of their biological mother, someone that the Jor-El AI seemed reluctant to bring up.  Jor-El seized Stan’s confused pause to continue speaking to Ford.  “For-El.  I will heal your human companion.  In exchange, you must agree to study here until such a time as I determine your training complete.”

              “How long will that take?” Ford asked hesitantly.

              “As long as is necessary.”  There was a pause.  “I am sure my own son would never even dream of doing so, but should you decide to leave before your training is complete, I will invoke a punishment.”

              “Ford,” Stan hissed.  Ford closed his eyes.  “Don’t do it.  It’s a shit deal.”

              “I can’t let F suffer because of me,” Ford said, his voice thick.  He swallowed.  “Very well, Jor-El, I will-”

              “I’ll do it,” Stan interrupted.  Ford’s head whipped around to stare at him.  Stan walked over to Ford and Fiddleford.  “I’ll do the training.”

              “You have yet to even fly.”

              “Just means I’ve got a lot to learn,” Stan said, fighting back his terror at the idea of being miles above the hard, unforgiving ground.

              Invulnerability doesn’t make falling any more pleasant.

              “This is true…”  Jor-El sounded thoughtful.

              “Stan, what are you doing?!” Ford demanded.  Stan sighed.

              “Look, you’ve got potential.  You shouldn’t throw that away for however long the training takes.  And you shouldn’t have to put your relationship on ice, either!  Fiddleford might annoy me sometimes, but he makes you happy.  The two of you have something together.”

              “Stanley…”

              “I don’t have anything going for me right now.  If I drop outta my life for a while, I can slide back in when training’s done without any problems.”

              “That’s not true,” Ford said, sounding pained.

              “Sure it is!”  Stan feigned a lighthearted tone.  “Anyways, you can’t stop me.  I already volunteered.”

              “I accept this exchange,” Jor-El’s voice thundered.  A warm, white glow surrounded Fiddleford.  Pink flooded back into his cheeks.

              “Stanford?” Fiddleford said weakly.

              “Take him and leave, For-El,” Jor-El rumbled.  “Your brother’s training must begin.  There is a lot of ground to cover.”  Ford picked Fiddleford up.  He shot one last saddened yet relieved glance at Stan before disappearing in a flash.  Stan swallowed.  He looked up at the fortress’s vaulted ceiling.

              “All right, Jor-El, it’s just you and me!” he shouted.  “Let’s get started!”

-----

              “You saw him?” Lute asked quietly.  Ford nodded.  Lute handed him a glass of sweet tea.  Ford took the glass, his hands clinging to it like a lifeline.  The McGuckets’ kitchen was as warm and welcoming as ever, despite the rain pounding furiously against the farmhouse roof.  He desperately needed to talk to someone about the latest Kryptonian development, and Fiddleford’s younger brother Lute was the only one around who knew about the “whole alien thing”.  As Fiddleford and Lute phrased it. 

Other than Mom.  And I don’t want to stress her out with this.  Lute eyed Ford’s grip on the drink.

“Uh.  Careful.  Last time ya held a glass like that-”  The warning came too late.  The glass shattered, spilling iced tea everywhere.  Lute sighed.  “Yer cleanin’ it up this time.”  He tossed Ford a roll of paper towels.  Ford began to mop up the liquid.  “So.  You saw him.  Tell me more.”

              “Like I said, I went to the Fortress of Solitude.”

              “That’s the ice castle the two of ya got?”

              “Yes.”

              “You came up with the name, didn’t ya?”

              “Irrelevant,” Ford mumbled.  “What matters is that Stan has been staying there since he agreed to do Jor-El’s training.  Now that Fiddleford is doing better, I decided to drop to check in on him.  And he…”  Ford took a shuddering breath.  “Do you recall a few years ago when you had to use Kryptonite to take me down?”

              “Yeah.  It was like you were possessed or somethin’,” Lute said.  Ford began to brush the shards of glass into his hands.

              “That’s because I was.”

              “I don’t ‘member any meteor infected folks that week.”

              “I wasn’t possessed by a human.  Jor-El did something to take me over.  He determined it was the only way I would fulfill this grand destiny he has planned for me.”

              “Grand destiny,” Lute muttered under his breath.  Ford dumped the glass shards and wet paper towels into the trash.  “Are all Kryptonian parents like this with their kids?”

              “I haven’t had a chance to meet any Kryptonian parents other than Jor-El,” Ford said dryly.  “And even then, he’s an AI.”

              “…Right.”  Lute leaned against the kitchen table, frowning.  “He possessed ya those years back?”  Ford nodded.  “How is he able to do that?  And why’d ya bring it up?”

              “I honestly have no idea how he is able to do so.  He seems to have access to Kryptonian technology us on Earth can’t even conceive of.  As for why I brought it up…”  Ford trailed off uncertainly.  Lute’s gray eyes widened.

              “No,” he whispered.  “He didn’t.”  Ford nodded.

              “Stan seems to have been possessed as well.”

              “How- are ya sure?” Lute asked weakly.  Ford shot him an annoyed look.  “Right, right.  The twin bond.  I mean, I’d certainly know if Angie was possessed.”

              “Is she getting suspicious about Stan’s disappearance?”

              “No more ‘n Fidds is, thankfully.”  Lute eyed Ford.  “By the by, Stan stayin’ at that ice castle wouldn’t have somethin’ to do with Fidds’ miraculous recovery last week, would it?”  Ford winced.  “I knew it!  There ain’t no coincidences that big in this world.”

              “I- I won’t tell you exactly how the two events are linked,” Ford said carefully.

              “I reckon I could figure it out.”

              “Even if you do, I will neither confirm nor deny.”

              “Fair enough.”  Lute opened the fridge and removed the pitcher of sweet tea.  “I won’t tell no one ‘bout the two bein’ linked, neither.”

              “…Thank you,” Ford whispered.

              “Ain’t no problem.”  Lute set the pitcher on the counter.  “So.  How do we un-possess Stan?  Want me to grab the Kryptonite?”

              “No.  I hesitate to bring Kryptonite to the Fortress.”

              “You think it might muck it up?” Lute asked.  Ford nodded.  “And yer concerned about that why?”  Ford stared at him.

              “It’s my last link to my biological heritage.”

              “It also has only brought you ‘n Stan grief,” Lute pointed out.  Ford shook his head.

              “Still, I can’t- I can’t do it.”

              “Fine.  We’ll figure somethin’ else out.”  Lute opened the cupboard and took out a cup.  “But until you’ve calmed down, yer gettin’ yer drinks in plastic.  Not glass.”  The back door slammed open.  Ford and Lute looked over.  Stan stumbled in, hair and clothes drenched from the downpour outside.

              “Stanley!” Ford exclaimed.  Stan looked up, panting.

              “Uh, hey, Ford.  I didn’t- I didn’t think you’d be here.”

              “Were you trying to avoid me?” Ford asked.

              “Uh.  No.  Just not talk to you first.  Um.”  Stan rubbed his neck.  There was a long line of red down his arm.  “Um.”

              “Are you bleeding?” Lute asked.  Stan looked at his arm.

              “Oh.  Yeah.  I guess.”

              “How?!” Ford asked, aghast, as Lute opened the cupboard under the kitchen sink and pulled out a first aid kit.

              “Uh.”  Stan laughed weakly.  “It’s got to do with why I’m back here instead of training with Jor-El.”

              “Yeah, Stanford was tellin’ me you got possessed or somethin’?” Lute said.  “Sit down at the table, I’ll get ya bandaged up.”  Stan sat obediently.  Lute came over and began to tend to Stan’s wound.

              “I only got possessed for the flying training,” Stan mumbled.

              “That fear of heights still won’t let ya fly even knowin’ ya can’t be hurt if ya fall, huh?” Lute remarked.  Stan glared at him.

              “It’s a respect, not a fear.”

              “And if you were to fall now, you’d be hurt, wouldn’t you?” Ford asked quietly.  Stan immediately looked down at the kitchen floor.  “There’s no way you completed your training.  But when you insisted on leaving, Jor-El took your powers.”  Lute paused.

              “Is he right?” Lute asked.  Stan nodded reluctantly.  Lute looked at Ford.  “How on Earth could ya have guessed such a specific series of events?”

              “He’s threatened it before,” Ford said with a shrug.  Lute’s mouth fell open.

              “Jor-El threatened to take yer powers away ‘fore?”

              “Yes.”

              “Lord above.  They need some parentin’ classes on Krypton, I reckon.”

              “Why did you stop the training?” Ford asked Stan.

              “I got sick of it.  He’s not the greatest coach.  And…”  Stan sighed.  “I didn’t want to be alone anymore.”

              “You missed yer friends and fam’ly,” Lute said.  Stan nodded again.  “That’s sweet.”

              “Are you fine with being powerless?” Ford asked Stan.

              “Being back home with everyone is worth getting bruises and needing to drive places,” Stan said firmly.  He grinned.  “Anyways, you and I both know things like this never stick.  I’m gonna be back to normal by next week.  Just watch.”

[susandsnell]

interview with the vampire!!!! (for that one question post you reblogged)

Thanks dear! I'll go with mostly-showverse for now. Under the cut for length bc i'm a wordy bastard!

Interview With The Vampire

my favorite female character: Unfortunately we're not exactly spoiled for choice in this franchise (thanks, Anne!), but I've loved Claudia De Pointe Du Lac Lioncourt Éparvier since I first got into the franchise. The show enriched her character and went in such fascinating directions with her with the changes they made, and she's by far the most interesting person in the entire cast on top of being the reason the story exists. An intrepid polyglot, a master strategist, more vampire than any other vampire for having been turned in her formative years and therefore developing (and not developing!) as one yet simultaneously the closest thing to a moral core the story has (not in a 'women are purer' sense but that by vampire standards, she really didn't do much wrong beyond adopting Louis' "fuck you got mine" attitude lol), rage and depression and heartaching hope and resilience, she really is my spark in the dark.

my favorite male character: a tie between louis de pointe du lac and daniel molloy! i've always really connected with the grief and the guilt at the core of louis' character, but the way the show expands on it in ways that absolutely gutted me for personal reasons. rewriting him as a closeted gay Black brothel owner in the turn of the century was a stroke of genius to break away from the source material, and he's played with such beauty and nuance by Jacob Anderson, who makes him so much more than pop culture's first major reluctant vampire. He's funny and brilliant and artistic and sensitive and capable in equal measure of heartrending mercy and sharp cruelties, alternately achingly moral with sharp moments of selfishness. he's someone who loves and hates with equal ferocity, and through unimaginable pain and loss and demons of his past and of his own mind, he comes through the other side unmistakably owning the night.

likewise, i always liked daniel - i'm a sucker for the human character brought into the supernatural mishaps - but the show turning him into this incredibly believable utter jackass shitlib so intertwined with 20th century queer and political history, so funny and cruel and able to hold his own against creatures of unimaginable power through his own wit and skill absolutely won me over.

my favorite book/season/etc: Favourite book in TVC? I come back to Interview the most frequently. The grief and guilt that pours out of every page resonated with me in middle school, and even more so later on. As for my favourite season of the show, Season 2 wins by a landslide. I really liked S1, but I loved S2, and the back half of it was possibly some of the best television I've watched in years. An encroaching sense of doom, phenomenal bottle episodes, genre-blending like you've never seen, the whole cast giving career defining performances once an ep, a breathtaking and often operatic sense of scale and breadth of time, all capped off by a finale that was all about catharsis and recovery.

my favorite episode (if its a tv show): I'm going to have to go splitsies on this one and say that Don't Be Afraid, Just Start The Tape is my most rewatched/favourite, but I think that I Could Not Prevent It is easily the best (I'd go so far as to say one of the best episodes of TV I've watched), however I've been able to do fewer full rewatches because it was so profoundly upsetting the first go-through and still gets me. I'll gush about each in a sec, but I would also like to give a shoutout to the first episode because it started us off wicked strong and was instantly iconic.

Don’t Be Afraid, Just Start The Tape is where my jaw hit the floor this season and I didn't quiet scoop it up until the finale. It’s a very queer love song to so many horror subgenres (erotic, slasher, gothic, heavy elements of found footage/analog which were just delightful) and the source material/the 94 film, and you crack down to the core and it’s about the nature of the thread connecting the Vampire to the Interviewer. I’m a consummate bottle episode enjoyer, but this was really something special that brings the narrator into the story all while recontextualizing the relationships and the creeping horror of the frame narrative in Dubai and pulls together the reconstruction the narrative around the time shifts from the book (by splitting the interview into two parts) and I’m kind of blown away it exists. It's a bold move to jump to a point long after Claudia's death mid-season (for those unaware this is going to happen) and flash back to a time where the grief for her was rawer, but it raised the stakes significantly, as did crystallizing the true nature of the relationships between Armand, Louis, and Daniel (all of which get payoff in the finale) + how they've shaped each other's lives, while setting in motion the potential for where they're going to go next season. I Could Not Prevent It is the crown jewel of the show, however, and not just because it relays arguably the most famous part of the Interview With the Vampire story -- that being Claudia's death. It, too, is a bottle episode, albeit one where the bottle was performed, as Delainey explained, as an actual play, all shot onstage in a theatre that has been a prison and slaughterhouse to many, now turned inwards on our leads. Structurally, I was already awed by this; as one might surmise from my blog, I'm a huge theatre nerd, and if Don't Be Afraid, Just Start The Tape is a love song to slashers, then I Could Not Prevent It is surely a love song to theatre; there's a dark reprise of an earlier musical number in true musical theatre fashion, turns and fourth wall breaks, and a Shakespearean element of audience complicity in the tragedy unfolding. It's also a stark criticism of the historical use of theatre as a tool of racial violence, and indeed, the theatricality of racialized violence. The brutality of what is done to Louis, Claudia and Madeleine is difficult enough to stomach on its own, but the extended racist humiliation and DARVO retracing of the events of season one had me pausing the episode multiple times in actual angry tears, an emotional experience I've almost never had with television before. Every single cast member is at the top of their game -- Jacob Anderson, especially in both s1 revisits (Claudia's turning + the coffin room scene) had me legitimately breathless, and Delainey's embodiment of Claudia's defiance, righteous fury, and the exact moment when the fight goes out of her as she practically convulses into her seat, having cursed her parents one last time for how they treated her, broke me into pieces. But rather than unremitting misery, there's a bright moment of love and hope at the centre -- Madeleine, the amoral survivalist, choosing to die by Claudia's side rather than live among the coven who would kill her. Roll the fuck over, Loustat church scene -- the shot of Madeleine looking over her shoulder with that warm, certain smile while Claudia stares back, awed, is easily the most romantic scene in the entire show. After painstaking recounting, piece by piece, of every way in which her parents failed and wronged her and didn't prioritize her, here's Madeleine, already once having faced trial by mob, now walking into the fire, for her -- an affirmation that she was always so much more than a roof shingle. The image of them holding one another and whispering their last words cemented them as the ultimate lesbian star-crossed lovers; it was Aida and Romeo and Juliet and Titanic all in one. Just. Wow. Wow wow wow.

my favorite cast member: They're all great! But Delainey Hayles is adorable and lovely and I wish her all the best things in life and the world. I hope she does more theatre and more horror, I want to see her leading romances, I really hope she breaks out from this.

my favorite ship: It's weird because I came into the show and even s2 completely ship neutral I-like-everything (though of course I was a Loustat girlie before I even knew I was queer myself lmao), but if you've been following me, you know that Danlou snuck up on me and gripped me by the throat and sunk its fangs in. While we knew there was mutual attraction, the "I really thought we did!" "Do you want to now..?" exchange that had it click for me that Daniel seems to be genuinely in love with Louis, and as the show would later reveal, there's probably more than a little fondness and care from Louis' end of things. While their entire push-and-pull is super engaging, it's their give and take that really speaks to me. In 73, Daniel was the first person in over two decades that Louis was able to open up to, laying the groundwork for him as that safe place for Louis. This meant enough that in the throes of the worst physical and mental pain of his life, Louis locked himself in that miserable hellscape of a marriage to save Daniel -- both physically, and then with the tenderness and mercy that carried him through to the end of his life. 50 years on, Daniel is nearing the end of that life, and hands it back to Louis to give him back the missing puzzle pieces and the key to get himself out of that hellish marriage. And while Daniel did a terrible wrong by covering the Interview, s2 left them on good terms as a safe place of support and processing for one another, and I really look forward to seeing where it'll go from there.

Close close second to Claudeleine, though, for the star-crossed lovers reasons mentioned above. (They also have a lot of Danlou parallels!)

a character I’d die defending: i'm defending none of them. they all know what they fucking did lmfao. and I don't need to defend Claudia because she did nothing wrong!

a character I just can’t sympathize with: I dunno, I kind of sympathize with everyone you're meant to sympathize with bc that's the point? Even Antoinette went through some truly heinous shit at Lestat's hands she didn't deserve because the show does make some solid points of wrong being wrong and cruelty being cruelty no matter who is subjected to it. I guess Santiago having an implied sad backstory didn't sway me on him being love-to-hate for me, but I don't think you're meant to feel sorry for him beyond seeing him as yet another vampire spinning in the cycles of violence.

a character i grew to love: i always liked him, but my god daniel won me over in s2 with his funnyman tendencies and his tragedies and triumphs, for reasons cited above.

my anti otp: ehh, i'm pretty ship neutral? but marimand comes to mind, especially since anne ONCE AGAIN didn't seem to realize what she'd written there and just how vile it was. ick. i trust the showrunners to rectify her framing.

If you've managed to read this far, thank you and I'm sorry and congrats! I could yap forever about these vamps.

have a good one, and thank you for the ask!

[outrunningthedark]

Silly question, but do you think the main characters' sort-of reconciliation with their parents will lessen the value of the group's "found family" aspect in the future, or the firefam's dysfunctional family relationships were for early emphasis that the bond they have with each other is stronger than blood ties?

IMO, there's been no evidence to suggest (or outright confirm) that "reconciling" with bio parents will have any long-lasting effects as the weeks and months [and even years] progress. Maddie and Buck: It was a 'blink and you might miss it' moment, but Boston hinted at things not being so bad between Maddie and her parents despite no mention of/appearance by them after 4x05: Phillip emailed her to check in because Chim would call the Buckleys asking if they'd heard from their daughter; Chim wouldn't have done that if the lines of communication were no longer open. Did Maddie reach out to her mother during her struggles with PPD? No. She leaned on Chimney (and her little brother for a bit) and worked on rebuilding the life she wants for herself to get to where she is now. Buck, meanwhile, hasn't been in therapy on-screen post 4x05 and also hasn't discussed his mother or father with anybody despite Kristen's decision to have the parents try harder/be nicer (even if their effort rubs people the wrong way because parents don't usually say *exactly* what kids want to hear). Were the parents meant to "replace" his dependency on Bobby as a father figure, we would have seen them become more of a consistent presence through phone calls (even if we only know who's on the phone because of what Buck says) or relaying of info. The parents have been putting in the work for two years - but that doesn't mean Maddie and Buck are wrong for still expecting something to set them off - and the standard dynamics have remained intact. It will be much of the same as this season continues, because even if Margaret and Phillip never leave Buck's bedside (we won't see that, though), they're still gonna go home once they know he's making a full recovery. With the way Kristen creates scenarios in her head and deems them irrelevant to the narrative, I'd be surprised if either parent is mentioned again before they're supposed to make another appearance. Chimney: Sang seems to have been brought back for Chim to get a story line to himself (prayers answered!), and *my* first thought when watching the episode live was that Sang is either feeling really, really guilty (Albert talking to them about seeing Jee-Yun and realizing what he's missing out on) OR Sang has gotten some unfortunate news regarding his health and he's wanting to "make amends" before he (potentially) passes away - He's going about it terribly, though! If Sang is meant to have limited time left, any "reconciliation" won't mean much in the long run when Chim can't reach out to his father for advice or help. If Sang's return is solely about the guilt, I expect him to get the same treatment as the Buckleys - Chim won't feel compelled to talk about his father unless it's because we're going to be seeing the Han family again. (And keep in mind that the show already does this with Albert, a character that actually served a purpose at one time...) You know what? I understand wanting to see kids cut their parents off - I'm sure it's what many people watching the show have done themselves or wish they had the strength to do - but if we remove the 'parent' and 'child' aspects of the story for a moment (bear with me)...the show has embraced the philosophy that forgiving someone doesn't mean you forget what they've done or have fully healed from their actions, it just means that you're no longer allowing that person to take up unnecessary space in your head and heart because they don't deserve to have such power over you. [And in the case of the Buckleys, forgiveness means that Margaret and Phillip no longer have an advantage. If your kids learn to NOT put up their defenses whenever you're around, you can't get under their easily as easily as before.] (This became an unintentional TL;DR. I'm so sorry.)

[spirit-shroud]

Okay gimme 1, 3, and 14 for your little guy

>:3!!!! from this ask meme thing

answering these out of order since question 1 got Lengthy

3. What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

idk how much this counts but it is like. 98% of his personality??

casil firmly believes that every single person is good (by his arbitrary standard) and if they aren't good, they can be "fixed" (unless they're just straight up evil [again, by his own arbitrary standard] in which case they're going to explode.)

as an extension of this, he'll trust anyone, put his life into anyone's hands, etc as long as they're the least bit aligned with his interests. ultimately he wants to help as much as possible but his methods of going about it are oftentimes far more consequential than if he'd just walk past.

he has enough awareness to be like 'maybe i should trust people less' but then he just leans on his friends' morals more and they're. well. they are all making each other better AND worse in wildly different ways in there

14. How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

i think ultimately he wants to be seen as someone who's moved beyond his criminal past and is now some kinda shining beacon of hope and wisdom.

he is a beacon of hope but maybe not wisdom, yet. he's the glue that holds everything together and he's the reason everyone will keep pressing on but, he never really grew out of his background despite desperately wanting to atone for it. so much of him is still stuck metaphorically on the streets that he can't escape it, ykno? if the path of least resistance means picking a lock he's still #1 lockpicking guy

What memory would your OC rather just forget?

first thing that comes to mind would probably be when he lost his oath?

so for the uninitiated, my oc casil is a paladin, oath of devotion type guy. swearing to protect the innocent and his cause. before he became a paladin, he was a thief and he was pretty good at it, until he kept getting overconfident and his 'petty teenaged pickpocket just trying to get by' thing became a 'guy who is two steps away from running a small crime ring with other petty teenaged pickpockets' thing. and he generally got into trouble a bunch. he spent a Lot of time getting arrested and getting fished out of bigger issues with the law by his mom (was a paladin, considers herself retired now, loves him very much)

he's a paladin now because after a lot of this he was like 'ykno. this sucks. i should be like my mom and do better for myself and my friends' and had like a 5 yr training montage of squireship. graduated from squire school. took his oath. got abducted by aliens shortly after. ykno

so anyways, that memory he wants to forget:

tldr trying to get back into his hometown didn't go so well from a combination of him refusing to pay the fine to enter the city and him being recognized as That Incredibly Annoying Kid From Five Years Ago, and they didn't really care to hear about his arc of recovery and finding himself.

so he ends up in jail . a very familiar place for him, and there's nobody who can help him. he broke out of his cell by sheer force of will, picked the locks to get his friends out, got all their gear back, and when the guards swarmed in to be like, 'hey, dude, get back in there,' and attacked him he kind of. freaked out a lot? and single-handedly took out all of them.

he had a tangible moment of clarity and awareness that his oath was broken after the first guard and he didn't really care after that, since, without his oath, he didn't really have anything else to lose, and his friends weren't going to hold him back.

anyways in his current state he'd do it again . and he doesn't want to think about that too hard so he'd rather forget the whole thing. he desperately wants his oath back but he's not sure if that's possible anymore

[robininthelabyrinth]

I'm absolutely delighted your prompts are open! Your writing is amazing and always makes me smile, it's the best way to start the day along with a cup of coffee!

Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are given another chance at raising a child after a family is killed leaving only a young child behind. Lan Sizhui is delighted to have a baby sibling. Though everyone is more or less nervous about it (mostly be Wei Ying is a gremlin) but also there isn't any other options.

ao3

“It’ll be fine,” Jiang Cheng said, rolling his eyes. “Hanguang-jun raised Lan Sizhui, didn’t he? And he turned out fine.”

“I did,” Lan Sizhui said agreeably, then frowned. “I think I did, anyway.”

“Not to be a spoilsport, but, realistically speaking, how much raising did Hanguang-jun actually do with you?” Jin Ling asked, and held up his hands when Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi both glared at him. “I don’t mean any offense or anything! I’m serious. We know he was in seclusion those first few years, right? Who raised you then?”

Lan Sizhui thought about it. “Back in the beginning? Well…that was mostly Teacher Lan, I guess.”

“Teacher Lan’s the best,” Lan Jingyi said loyally, then added, “Well, other than that fondness he has for surprise quizzes. But that’s not applicable to parenting, is it?”

Lan Sizhui made a face that suggested that maybe it was, in some weird way, shape, or form.

“Teacher Lan, really?” Jiang Cheng asked, clearly getting drawn in despite his best intentions – as was often the case. There was a reason their little group swung by the Lotus Pier nearly as often as they did the Cloud Recesses and Jinlin Tower, despite Jin Ling not living there part of the year any longer. “Wasn’t he mostly in recovery for those injuries he got during the war? I would’ve figured Zewu-jun would’ve been more involved, wouldn’t he?”

“He was around sometimes, but no, it was mostly Teacher Lan,” Lan Sizhui said. “Zewu-jun was often busy – he was rebuilding the Lan sect –”

“I was rebuilding the Jiang sect! So what? I still raised Jin Ling, and he wasn’t even supposed to be here – I had to fight the Jin sect for months just to get the opportunity – ”

“Yes, jiujiu, we know!” Jin Ling said hastily. “You don’t have to tell that story again! You didn’t have to tell everyone that story in the first place!”

Jiang Cheng huffed. He was probably going to tell the story again whether they liked it or not.

“I think I see what you’re saying, Jin Ling,” Ouyang Zizhen put in, always a good fellow for throwing himself on a conversational sacrificial sword. “If Lan Sizhui was already a few years old when he was adopted, and then Teacher Lan raised him for the next three years, then he would’ve been old enough to be entered into the Cloud Recesses’ official junior classes by the time Hanguang-jun took charge of his education, right?”

“Yes, that’s what I meant, that’s it exactly!”

“What does it matter?” Lan Sizhui asked.

“Yeah! Hanguang-jun still raised him the rest of the way,” Lan Jingyi put in, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring. “Gave him lessons and tips and all that!”

“Isn’t that something he does as a sect senior anyway?”

“Well, yes, but it’s different for Sizhui, okay?”

“I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with that. After all, the person who teaches the most is the same as the parent, and being the person raising them is what matters no matter when they’re adopted,” Jin Ling said, with an eye on Jiang Cheng, who looked begrudgingly pleased. He looked begrudging all the time, though, so it was probably just pleased. “But my point is – once you were part of the lessons, even if he was raising you the rest of the time, you still already mostly had your personality down by then, right? We’ve never seen what someone raised entirely by Hanguang-jun from birth would be like.”

They all stopped to consider that.

“More than that,” Jin Ling continued. “This kid’ll be raised not just by Hanguang-jun, but by Hanguang-jun as he is now – after he and Senior Wei got together. You know?”

They did know.

“And of course, that’s all putting aside that the kid will be raised by Senior Wei himself, too…”

“Maybe we should start investing in defense talismans,” Jiang Cheng mused. “Because everything is going to explode. Everything.”

-

“Everything will not explode,” Lan Wangji said calmly.

“Are you sure?” Wei Wuxian asked. “Because I’m not sure, and I’m more likely to be involved in these hypothetical explosions than you are.”

“Mm. I’m certain.”

“But…”

“Wei Ying will be an excellent father,” Lan Wangji said, and his voice left no room for doubt.

“It’s easy for you to say,” Wei Wuxian whined, though he was smiling now. “You already have the experience of it! They say that it’s easier the second time, when you know what to expect…”

“Do not tell lies,” Lan Qiren said mildly. He was looking over some of Wei Wuxian’s notes – he’d insisted on any new inventions passing through a sanctioned approval process before they were put into practice and had volunteered himself to review them, a matter that had caused Wei Wuxian no end of stress until he realized that Lan Qiren really did intend to approve anything that met his standards and, moreover, understood musical cultivation enough to understand what he was driving at with most of them, even the esoteric ones, at which point Wei Wuxian gotten extremely enthusiastic about the whole thing.

This didn’t mean that they were friends or anything, but they’d at least formed some sort of tentative truce.

Most of the time, anyway.

Wei Wuxian squinted at his old teacher suspiciously. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying that it’s not easier the second time?”

“I am only saying that I have experience in raising a child not my own,” Lan Qiren pointed out, and Wei Wuxian nodded, slightly abashed; he knew that the old man had basically raised Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen, of course, although sometimes he forgot. “The first child I raised was Xichen and his personality as a child was much as it was as an adult: gentle, amiable, friendly, obedient.”

That made sense. Wei Wuxian nodded.

“The second child I raised was Wangji,” Lan Qiren said. “He bit people.”

Wei Wuxian burst out laughing.

Lan Wangj virtuously ignored them both, continuing to write a letter without the slightest hint of embarrassment – even his ears hadn’t turned red. What a shame!

“I can testify to that myself,” Wei Wuxian giggled, leering at his husband in the hopes of getting a rise out of him. “He’s still a biter – for certain lucky people.”

“He was a lot less discriminating when he was younger,” Lan Qiren said, and Wei Wuxian winced, abruptly remembering that Lan Wangji’s uncle was, in fact, still in the room. Luckily it was pretty easy to flirt around Lan Qiren, who didn’t seem to notice most of the time, but it was still a bit awkward. “And I once succumbed to temptation and gave him mixed messages, which I believe made it worse.”

That sounded like a story.

“He gave me a candy after I bit Sect Leader Jin,” Lan Wangji clarified, which made Wei Wuxian start laughing again. “He did not expect me to remember. I remembered. Nor did I allow him to forget about it.”

“It is easy to make mistakes while raising a child,” Lan Qiren said, ignoring Wei Wuxian’s cackling. “But if one means well, and tries hard to do the right thing, children are very forgiving – usually.”

Despite his best efforts to remain neutral, Lan Wangji’s eyes curved slightly in a smile. Wei Wuxian felt his heart go all warm and melty all over again.

“This is true regardless of whether it is the first or second child,” Lan Qiren added. “I have confidence that you will both do fine.”

“We will,” Wei Wuxian proclaimed. “With parents like me and Lan Zhan, how could the kid go wrong? And we’ll even try to avoid too many explosions!”

“Please do. One Lan Jingyi is enough for the Cloud Recesses.”

“You know, I was wondering – how did you end up with him being quite so…hmm…”

“Oh?” Lan Qiren said, and Wei Wuxian noted to his amusement that Lan Wangji straightened in back in sudden alarm despite Lan Qiren’s extremely nonchalant tone. “Have you not met Lan Yueheng yet? I must introduce you when he returns –”

“Perhaps not,” Lan Wangji said, sounding a little worried.

Worried, in this case, meant fun.

“No, I think I definitely need to meet this person – Lan Zhan, stop batting at me! I know exactly what I’m doing…”

-

Wen Ning looked down at the baby with which he had been entrusted.

“I don’t have any idea what I’m doing,” he confessed.

The baby gurgled.

“I think Wei-gongzi may have been thinking more about ‘babysitter that doesn’t need to sleep and has inexhaustible energy’ and less about ‘is this person qualified to take care of a baby’.”

More gurgling.

“I just wanted to apologize in advance.”

The baby yawned.

“…right then.” Wen Ning straightened up. Someone was going to have to raise this child, and based on how distractable Wei Wuxian was when he was around Lan Wangji and visa versa, it looked like it was going to have to be him. “Let’s do this.”

[angelicyoongie]

Out of the Woods (III)

— pairing: wolf hybrid namjoon x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, smut — word count: 11K — warnings: mentions of past abuse, explicit sexual content! — summary: Promising Jihyo that you were going to stay away from your writing for one weekend had been easy in theory, but much harder to actually do once you reached the little cabin the woods. To make matters worse, the only thing that rivals your inability to keep promises is your terrible luck – and after a particularly bad choice leads you to get lost in the mountains, you suppose that it's only karma that you end up face to face with a wolf that looks ready to rip your throat out.

Part I / II / III

Namjoon startles with a low growl at the knock at the door, ears twisting back as it opens to reveal the nurse alongside someone you haven’t seen before. “Mr. Kim, Miss Y/n, meet Yeonjun. He’s our hybrid shelter contact, and he has some information to share with you regarding Mr. Kim’s owner. I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll be back shortly,” You give the nurse a small nod before she leaves, your attention straying back to the blue-haired man standing just inside the door.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Yeonjun says, a warm smile on his lips. The wolf hybrid’s growl grows louder as Yeonjun’s eyes find yours, Namjoon bristling under your touch. “Don’t worry Mr. Kim, I’ll stay right here,” Yeonjun leans back against the wall, his posture relaxed and open despite the snarl on Namjoon’s lips. You squeeze his wrist in warning, begging him to calm down. You have no clue what Yeonjun is here for, but you don’t want Namjoon to ruin his chances of a good home by making a bad first impression. Namjoon’s growl stutters at your tight grip, and Yeonjun looks amused as the wolf hybrid forces himself to relax against the pillows behind his back. Namjoon settles for glaring at him instead, and you take that as a small win.

“Sorry, you had something to tell us?” You say.

“I do,” Yeonjun ruffles through the folder in his hand, eyes squinting slightly as he reads off the information. “It says here that the legal owner of Kim Namjoon, Mr. Kim Deok-ho, filed a missing hybrid report five years ago. Is that correct?” Namjoon offers a stiff nod, his jaw clenched tightly at the sound of his owner’s name. Your eyes grow wide at the new information. Five years? Namjoon was by himself for that long?

”It appears that Kim Deok-ho passed away a year after the report, due to a sudden heart attack. Since he had no relatives and has not left your ownership to someone else, you’re currently an ownerless hybrid.” You let out a shaky breath as Namjoon’s ears spring up at the information, his tail doing a half-hearted wag beneath the covers. “Based on the nurse’s reports of the old scars and marks on your arms and chest, we have reason to believe that mistreatment and abuse occurred during the ownership, and so even if someone from Kim Deok-ho’s past step forward in an attempt to claim you, it will be denied.” You slump back in your chair, desperately blinking away the tears blurring your vision. Thank god. At least he’ll never have to go back there.

”I take it that you agree with those observations?” Yeonjun gives a small smile at the relieved whimper Namjoon lets out, the wolf hybrid’s raspy yes filling the small room. Namjoon flips his hand over to grasp yours, his long fingers intertwining delicately with your own.

“Good, we’re on the same page then. The next thing we need to settle is what’s going to happen moving forward,” Yeonjun flicks over to a new page, pen hovering over the paper as he looks up at both of you. “A newly formed pack bond isn’t hard to notice when you know what to look for. I take it that you have no interest in going to the shelter?”

Namjoon brings your hand up to his chest; shaking his head as he says, “Stay with Y/n. Please.”

Yeonjun’s questioning gaze flickers over to you, and you quickly scramble out an agreement. “Namjoon can stay with me for as long as he wants,” You try your best to suppress a chuckle as Namjoon’s tail start wagging at your words, a faint blush blooming in his cheeks at the heavy thuds against the bed.

“Great!” Yeonjun smiles as he fills out his forms, “We need to do some standard background checks and we have some protocols to follow, but I don’t think there will be any issues. Just fill out this form and give it to the nurse later, and I’ll get the process started.” He places a pen and paper down on the small table near the door, giving the nurse a nod as she pokes her head in.

“We’re all done, just let me know when the form is ready,” He gives you and Namjoon a quick wave before he slips out of the door.

“Well then, I have some news too,” The nurse says. “Thankfully the operation went well, and Mr. Kim’s recovery should be fairly smooth. He’ll need to stay here for a few more days for observation as he did lose a lot of blood, but we don’t think there will be any issues,” She smiles.

“Now, since hybrids heal much faster than regular humans, we’ll have to do a few more check-ups than normal just to make sure you don’t wear the cast for too long. You’ll likely be able to remove the cast after three weeks, and then keep a brace on for a few more after that until you’re back to normal. You will be provided with a pair of crutches, but you’re stuck with bed rest for the first week to make sure you’re not putting too much pressure on your injury.” You can feel your back ache at the thought of having to spend a few weeks sleeping at the couch until you can get hold of another bed, but it’s for sure worth it if it means Namjoon will recover well.

“I think that should be all, do you have any questions?” You shake your head, a smile curling at your lips as the wolf hybrid copies your movement.

“That’s good then, I’ll leave you two be for now.” The nurse bids you both goodbye with a nod, the room falling into a sudden silence as she closes the door behind her. Namjoon flashes you a dopy smile as you turn your attention back to him. The wolf hybrid clutches your hand tightly to his chest as he shifts his upper body as close to your chair as possible, his warm brown eyes never straying from your face.

“Before I sign the papers, I just want to be sure that you’re really okay with staying with me. I promise I’ll do my best to take care of you, but Yeonjun might have some foster homes that are better suited for your recovery. My apartment is pretty small,” You grimace. You really aren’t lying when it comes to your home. Sure, you might have two bedrooms, but one of them is hardly even big enough to be a closet. It will be a tight squeeze with Namjoon while he’s injured, but you’ll manage as long as the wolf hybrid is certain.

“It’s .. okay. Want to stay .. with you,” Namjoon frowns as he works to find his words, his gaze turning a little desperate as if he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he takes too long.

“Of course. I’ll bring you home as soon as you can be discharged,” You squeeze his hand comfortingly. You can’t help but feel a little flutter of excitement at the thought of bringing him back to your apartment. “I should go fill out the form then,” You smile. Somehow, you think Namjoon will fit right in.

“Careful,” You wince as Namjoon almost stumbles into a wall, the wolf hybrid’s grip tightening around your shoulders as you try your best to hold him up. If there’s anything you’ve learned over the last couple of days in the hospital, it’s that Namjoon is stubborn. And apparently, that stubbornness is only amplified when it comes to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to use the crutches?” You ask as you try to fish up your keys from your pocket, the wolf hybrid’s tired breaths spilling across your neck.

“No crutches. Only need you,” Namjoon grumbles. You blame your stuttering heartbeat on the exhaustion you feel after practically carrying Namjoon from the hospital to your car, and then from your car to your apartment complex. Thank god you have an elevator, otherwise you have no idea how you would manage to get him up to the eight floor.

You let out a sigh of relief as you get your keys out, quickly shoving them into the lock to open the door. Namjoon’s ears spring up at the sight, his tail beginning to move behind his back at the pleasant smells that hit his sensitive nose. Everything smells like you, like warmth and comfort, and there’s nothing the wolf hybrid wants to do more than add his own scent to the mix, to make sure that others know that you’re taken. He hasn’t even been able to properly scent you since the woods, and the faint touches he’s been able to leave on your skin isn’t enough.

You help Namjoon step out of his shoes, carefully leading him down the narrow hallway of your apartment. “Here’s the second bedroom,” You nod to the first door you pass, “That’s my bedroom, and the last door on the right is the bathroom. The rest is an open concept living room and kitchen, as you can see.” Namjoon’s golden eyes carefully scan over your moderately sized apartment, his nose wrinkling as he picks up a scent he hadn’t noticed near the entrance.

“Dog?” Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he tries to hobble over to the couch. It takes you a second to catch on to what he said, the image of Sana and Jihyo cuddling on your couch a week back flashing in your mind as you struggle to hold him back.

“You’re supposed to head straight to bed,” You say, curling your fingers deeper into Namjoon’s side as he tries to wriggle out of your hold. “Namjoon, please,” You plead as the strain in your back begins to throb, your body definitely not made for almost carrying a fit wolf hybrid for an extended period of time.

Namjoon stops struggling at the tired tone in your voice, and you take the low whine that falls from his lips as an apology. You catch him throwing a narrowed look at the couch as he lets you lead him to your bedroom, and you make a mental note to maybe try to air the room out before he needs to use the bathroom. You didn’t even realize Sana’s scent would linger that long, but then again, she and Jihyo had spent all day glued to your couch.

“Here we go,” You carefully lower Namjoon down on your bed, helping him get situated and comfortable before propping his leg up with a few pillows. You sink down on the edge of the bed, a frown tugging at your lips as you notice how rough and threadbare the material of his clothes are. The only clothes Namjoon have are the ones he got from the hospital, but they’re obviously far from new. You were hoping to get him more situated before leaving him alone, but there’s no way you’re going to let him use clothes that seem like they might unravel at any moment when you have the funds to get him soft and better-fitting clothes.

“Would you be okay if I head out for a bit? I need to get–” Namjoon cuts you off with a pained whine, his hand closing firmly around yours as he says, “Please don’t go.” The wolf hybrid’s silver ears are flat against his head, another distressed noise rumbling out of his chest as he tries to tug you closer on the bed.

“It’s okay, I promise I won’t leave!” You say, your heart squeezing painfully at the panicked expression on Namjoon’s face. It’s too reminiscent of how he looked when you left him out in the woods, and that’s something you never want to revisit.

“We can order you some new clothes online and get them delivered here tomorrow! I’ll stay here for as long as you need me to. Is that alright with you?” Namjoon searches your gaze for a few seconds before he seems to find what he's looking for, the tension in his shoulders lessening as he rasps out a low thank you. “It's nothing to thank me for, it’s the least I can do,” You give his hand a soft squeeze.

“I’ll go make some dinner, you need to take your pain medication soon,” You can see the doubt in the wolf hybrid’s eyes, his hold tightening ever so slightly around your hand. “How about I leave the door open? You’ll be able to see me the entire time I’m cooking,” You say. It truly breaks your heart that Namjoon is so scared that you might abandon him, but can you really blame him? His first owner was abusive, and when he finally found someone – when he found you – who he felt strongly enough about to consider his pack, you had left him.

“Yeah,” Namjoon nods, his slender fingers slowly untangling from yours. The wolf hybrid’s eyes widens as you lean closer to fluff up the pillows behind his head, his tail doing a couple of surprised thuds against the mattress at the close proximity.

“Let me know if you need anything,” You smile. You can feel Namjoon’s gaze following your every movement as you cook an easy dinner, the position of your bed giving him a vantage point of both the couch and the kitchen behind it. Normally, being watched so intently would’ve made you feel a little uncomfortable, but with Namjoon, it almost feels reassuring to know the wolf hybrid isn’t letting you out of his sight. You don’t live in a bad part of town by any means, but it gives you that little extra ounce of protection you wasn’t even aware that you were craving.

“What about this one?” You only get a non-committal sound in response, and you shake your head with an amused huff as you add the sweater to your cart. Since all of Namjoon’s focus was on his food during dinner, it seems that he now refuses to look at anything that isn’t you, so that doesn’t leave you much choice but to pick out most of his clothes on your own. You had tried to keep a little distance between your bodies on your bed to make sure you couldn’t accidentally hurt him, but the wolf hybrid had gently tugged you closer with a displeased growl, not happy until your side was flush against his. You bite down harshly on your lip as Namjoon’s rough fingertips glide over the delicate skin on your wrist, the wolf hybrid seemingly more interesting in mapping out every inch of your arm, rather than what you’re trying to show him on the screen. You end up picking out some loose clothing, something Namjoon hopefully will like after not wearing clothes for years. You can tell he’s uncomfortable in the stiff hospital clothes, especially since the outfit seems to be a size or two too small. You do a last scan over your cart, happy with the assortment of soft earth tones you’ve picked out. Namjoon doesn’t strike you as a hybrid that would wear something overtly flashy, but if that’s something he wants to later, you’ll be more than happy to update his wardrobe.

“Okay, done! It should be here by tomorrow afternoon,” Namjoon perks up as you close the laptop in your lap, the wolf hybrid’s brown eyes flickering up to meet yours. You feel your breath getting caught in your throat as you take in how softhe looks, and you find yourself reaching out to brush Namjoon’s silver hair away from his lashes before you can stop yourself. Namjoon lets out a surprised rush of air at the contact, the warmth in his eyes almost scorching as he slowly moves his gaze around your face, taking the chance to drink in every detail of it. The wolf hybrid shifts his weight, and the loud creak of your bed is enough to make you hastily pull back, cheeks flushed as you stutter out a, “I-I uh, should probably get the couch ready.”

“Couch?” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Yeah, you’re taking the bed so I need somewhere to sleep too,” You say.

“Why? Just sleep .. with me,” The wolf hybrid frowns. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it aside from sleeping, you have done it before out in the woods after all, but your stomach flutters at the words before you can reel yourself in, warmth slowly climbing up the back of your neck.

“I can’t do that Namjoon,” You mentally pat yourself on the back for how steady your voice sounds, “The woods were different. We .. we can’t do that here.” Despite feeling like you might trust Namjoon with your life if the situation ever calls for it, you don’t actually know him. The past days in the hospital have been filled with tests and interviews with Yeonjun, and so you haven’t truly had the chance to really talk to the wolf hybrid yet. You have to at least be something akin to friends before you’re comfortable sleeping next to him.

“Oh,” The disappointment in Namjoon’s voice is obvious, his expression almost turning a little shameful as his ears begin to droop. “I’m sorry,” He mutters.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? You’ve been shifted for a long time, so it’s only natural that some things are a little different between human and animal,” Namjoon nods, but there’s something in his expression that looks a little closed off now – more hesitant. “Is there anything you need before I go to bed? Anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?” The wolf hybrid shifts his gaze around your room, pink lips parting and closing as if there’s something he can’t quite make up his mind to ask for.

“Can I .. scent you?” Namjoon murmurs. One of your childhood friends had a hybrid, a sweet little cat hybrid that always used to scent you when you came over after school. You learned then that scenting helps hybrids to calm down and feel more comfortable around new people and places faster, which lessened the shock when you first met Sana all those years ago, and it’s also why there’s not an ounce of hesitation in your voice as you say, “Of course.” The wolf hybrid’s head attention snaps back to you so fast you’re almost a little worried for his neck.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks, his warm eyes searching your face.

“I am. It’ll help you settle in here faster, right? So I really don’t mind,” You smile. Namjoon nods, pink lips pressed into a firm line as he gently takes a hold of your hand. He brings it up slowly to his face, a look of deep concentration in his eyes as he begins to rub his cheek against your wrist, making sure that he covers every visible inch of skin with his scent. Namjoon’s hold loosens ever so slightly, but just as you think the wolf hybrid is done, he leans down to swipe his tongue over your skin, leaving behind a more permanent scent mark. You bite down harshly on your lips, desperate to stifle the surprised sound bubbling up the back of your throat. The hybrids you had met before never did this during scenting. Namjoon’s ears begin to perk up the more his scent lingers on you, a content noise rumbling in his chest they begin to properly mix. Maybe it’s just a wolf thing, you decide. After all, he had scented you out in the woods in the same fashion before, so it's likely just something tied to his species that you weren’t familiar with. You allow Namjoon to switch out your hands, letting the wolf hybrid scent both of them to his heart’s content. He looks visibly more relaxed as he places your hand back in your lap, his tail beating against the bed in a steady rhythm.

“Better?” You ask.

“Better,” Namjoon confirms, a soft smile on his lips as he shifts back against the pillows. You take that as your cue to get ready for bed yourself, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

“Can .. door stay open?” Namjoon asks as you scoot of the bed, his eyes flickering hesitantly between you and the living room.

“It can.”

As you settle down into your freshly made couch, you can help but feel soothed at the sounds of the wolf hybrid getting comfortable in your bed. Your apartment suddenly feels a little warmer, a little more lived in, with the added noise of another person. You stare up at the dark ceiling with a smile, and the pleasant fluttering in your stomach tells you that if Namjoon decides to stay, your apartment might actually begin to feel like a home.

“Did you pick a movie?” You take a seat next to Namjoon on the couch, placing the popcorn bowl careful down between the two of you. The wolf hybrid nods at the screen, one of the newer blockbuster films already chosen and ready to be played. With his broken leg, there really isn’t much for Namjoon to do except watch movies or read, but you thankfully have a wall of books, and unlimited streaming services for him to use. The first two days of having Namjoon in your apartment were more awkward than you had expected. But then again, maybe it should have been weirder if it hadn’t, considering you had to help someone you barely know clean up and use the bathroom. It had been a learning curve to say the least; your cheeks stained a permanent pink until you managed to work out a good system. Namjoon’s new clothes had arrived quickly as well, and the wolf hybrid seemed pleased at the colours and the loose fit of the items you had chosen. You praised your own choices too; the baggy pants and slightly oversized shirts made helping him dress and undress a lot easier.

Though, there is one thing you haven’t been able to work out quite yet. Namjoon. Despite the wolf hybrid’s initial distrust of the crutches, he seems to have really taken to them now, especially once he realized that using them meant he could just trail after you himself without you having to struggle holding him up around the apartment. It is cute that Namjoon has been glued to your side ever since you arrived at your apartment, but with how he’s straining himself to hobble over to the front door every hour despite the doctor’s request of him not getting out of bed, it’s starting to worry you. The behaviour reminds you of your time spent with him the woods, and how he would constantly scout the area you travelled through for danger. You need Namjoon to relax and heal, but it’s been difficult, especially since the hybrid hasn’t said much outside of yes and no for the last four days. Before you left the hospital, the hybrid doctor you had spoken with had made it very clear that it was important to engage Namjoon in conversation, as his speech would only improve the more he used it. It’s beginning to feel more and more like you’ve just brought home a guard dog and not a person, and it makes your chest uncomfortably tight to think that Namjoon might not feel safe enough in your home to let his instincts take the back seat and just be.

You’re startled out of your thoughts as you suddenly hear a howling laughter coming from the hallway. You know it’s just some neighbours finally getting home after work, but Namjoon stiffens at the noise, ears perked in the direction of your door. It’s obvious that the wolf hybrid has the urge to protect, one hand already reaching for his crutches – so you just hope you’ve read the signs right when you hastily grab Namjoon’s hand, tugging it into your lap to cover it with your own. Namjoon freezes, his jaw clenched tightly as he slowly moves his eyes from the screen to your intertwined hands.

“Do you mind? It seems like this part is going to be a little scary,” You gesture to the action scene playing out on the TV, plastering on your best sheepish smile as you hold the wolf hybrid’s hand tighter. You feel his fingers twitch in your hold as another round of loud laughter rings out in the hallway, but to your surprise, Namjoon only takes a deep breath before he settles back against the couch. He flips your hand, easily entangling his fingers with yours as his bright eyes travel back to the screen. For what feels like the first time in four days, you can sense Namjoon finally letting his shoulders drop, his tail doing a half-hearted wag against the couch as he relaxes. The rough fingertips grazing your knuckles at random intervals keeps you distracted enough that you have no clue what the movie you just watched was really about, your hand tingling with the sensation of Namjoon’s careful touches.

As the end credits begin to roll, you turn on the couch, facing the wolf hybrid more directly as you say, “Namjoon, are you okay? You’ve just seemed a little tense and closed off these last days. I just want to make sure that I’m not doing anything that’s making you feel uncomfortable.”

“Not you, just me,” Namjoon rasps, his lips pressing into a firm line, “Don’t want to be .. too much.”

“Too much?” You frown.

“Old owner wanted me to be quiet. No scenting .. Said it wasn’t natural,” Namjoon’s ears fall flat against his head. “Couldn’t help it, was too young. So owner punished me.” The wolf hybrid’s eyes briefly flicker up to meet yours, the usual warmth hardened and cold and sad as he lowers his head as says, “Sorry. You can punish too.”

“Namjoon,” You whisper, swallowing harshly around the lump in your throat. You can feel your chest crack, eyes growing blurry as you think of a younger Namjoon. You know that all hybrids need psychical contact to stay happy and healthy, and that it’s especially important for younger hybrids to make sure that they learn about their instincts and needs. Your childhood friend’s hybrid was never denied pets or cuddles, the cat hybrid practically always glued to someone’s side because anything else would’ve been inhumane. The fact that Namjoon was abused for wanting something as harmless as a hug, or a scratch behind his ears makes you want to bring his owner back to life just so that you can make sure he receives the proper punishment for his crimes. Death seems too easy of a way out of the horrible things he did.

“I will never do that to you. You never have to worry about being too much of anything. Wanting someone to talk to and touch is completely natural,” You hesitantly bring a hand up to cup Namjoon’s cheek, lifting his head enough to meet his gaze. Your fear of Namjoon not wanting your touch flies out the window the moment the wolf hybrid leans his whole head into your palm, nuzzling his cheek against your hand as the bushy tail behind his back picks up speed at the contact. It dawns on you then, that after the first night he scented you, Namjoon had withdrawn completely. Him following you around and checking the door was probably the best thing he could to do to feel close to you while still keeping his distance – because that was what he had been forced to adapt to. You softly clear your throat, keeping your voice as level as possible as you give him a gentle smile and say, “If there’s something you want, you just have to ask. I promise I’ll do my best to make it happen for you.”

Namjoon angles his head in your palm, soft lips brushing over your wrist as he murmurs a quiet thank you into your skin. “Can I … ask you something else?” You can’t help the way your heart flips as Namjoon tries to follow the hand you remove from his cheek, the wolf hybrid letting out a perturbed whine.

“Sure,” He rasps, clutching your intertwined fingers tighter to make sure you won’t remove them too.

“How did you get caught in the trap?” You wince as your eyes drift to Namjoon’s cast. Jihyo had made some calls while you were with Namjoon in the hospital, and it had turned out that the old owners of the cabin had left out multiple bear traps many years ago. It had been so long that they had forgotten they were even there. You're honestly surprised that the trap still worked considering how rusted and old it had looked clamped around Namjoon’s leg, but then again the wolf hybrid is big when’s he’s shifted. Not the same as a full-grown bear of course, but his weight was obviously enough to set it off.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” Namjoon says. The dejected look on his face feels like someone has punched you straight in your stomach as he mutters, “Was distracted. Sad.” Because of you. ”Was going to leave when the trap stopped me,” Namjoon frowns. That explains why it took so long to find him, and why he had moved so far from where you first met him. If it hadn’t been for the trap, you likely never would’ve seen Namjoon again.

The wolf hybrid’s face is pinched as he tries to formulate the sentence in his head, the words a little jumbled but clear enough that you understand what he’s trying to say, ”Trap hurt, but you came back. So pain is okay.” For all the things you want to say, the only thing that comes out is just a saddened, “I’m sorry.”

Namjoon shakes his head. The wolf hybrid’s golden brown eyes are warmwarmwarm, his voice dripping with honeyed content as he says, “Found you, so everything’s okay now. Found my pack.” Your body moves on instinct as you shift closer, untangling your hand from Namjoon’s to gently wrap them around his shoulders. The position is a little awkward, but you couldn’t care less about the weird twist in your lower back as the wolf hybrid collapses into your embrace with a low whine, his face tucked securely into your neck. The soft fur of Namjoon's ears brush against your chin as he inhales your scent, a shaky breath escaping his lips as your calming scent washes over him. He doesn’t scent you like you expected him to; instead, he just seems happy to be this close to you, his breath spilling across your neck as he tries to press himself even closer.

“Yeah,” You breathe. It seems you both have.

It’s almost too easy to grow attached to Namjoon. The last two weeks since you brought Namjoon home has passed without a hitch, the wolf hybrid finally having settled properly into your apartment. His speech has improved drastically since you talked that night, and he’s been doing better and better for each day as he makes an effort to ask about your life, or your work. With the way Namjoon’s face lit up at the mention of your profession, it felt like another puzzle piece was falling snuggly into place. You’ve never had someone be so interested and intrigued by your writing before, but then again, you’ve never met someone who devours books in the same way that Namjoon does either. The wolf hybrid breezes through a book in only a couple of days, and the sound of paper being turned alongside with Namjoon’s low grumbles as he finds something interesting has become your new white noise as you work. You were certain you wouldn’t be able to write with someone else in the apartment, let alone the same room, but Namjoon blends so seamlessly into your life that it’s far from an issue.

But, with attachment, also comes fear. You call Jihyo on your way to the grocery store, your mind busy and your heart even heavier as you make your way through the spring rain. Like the sky, you pour out all of the insecurities and worries you’ve kept bottled up, Jihyo only spurring your rambling on with a few encouraging noises.

“I’m scared,” You admit. “Is it weird how fast we’re moving? The more I get to know him the more it feels like he was always supposed to be there.” Jihyo lets out a low hum as she thinks.

“I don’t think so Y/n. Sometimes you just find people you click with, there’s nothing wrong with that. And it’s not like you’ve only been hanging out for an hour every now and then, you’ve been living together for two weeks. It’s understandable that you would grow close a little quicker than normal.”

“But that’s not all, is it?” Jihyo adds, as you keep silent.

“No .. I just don’t want him to regret anything. I’m the first nice human he’s seen in years, I’m just scared that his affection is a little misplaced,” You grimace.

“That may be, but Namjoon is still capable of making his own choices. The people at the hospital treated him nicely, and you don’t see him rushing to come home with them.” You can hear Jihyo’s teasing smile through the phone.

“I guess,” You mutter. Despite his initial hostility toward the staff, Namjoon had opened up after the first day there. He had stopped growling and trying to bite the doctors' hands off, and he had even offered the kind woman that checked upon him the most a sweet smile after she had brought him his dinner.

“There’s no guarantees in life Y/n. You don’t know if Namjoon will change his mind in a week, or a month or a year. But I do know that you would respect his wishes and let him go if it ever comes down to that. I think Namjoon knows that too, and that’s why he’s not afraid to open up to you. Because you genuinely care about him,” Jihyo voice is soft through the phone. “You have no guarantees, but some things are worth the risk.” You didn’t even have to think twice to know that Namjoon was worth it. You already knew.

You briefly glance up from your computer as a steaming mug is placed next to it, the wolf hybrid giving you a dimpled smile before he hobbles back to the couch. You raise the cup to your mouth; a relieved sigh leaving your lips as you inhale the strong aroma of the coffee Jihyo gifted you last month. You hold back a groan as you take your first sip, the strain in your eyes already feeling a little more bearable due to the hybrid’s sweet actions.

Namjoon does this a lot, you’ve come to realize. Even with his injury, the wolf hybrid tries his best to do little things for you. It’s everything from bringing you coffee when your energy starts running out, to organizing your scattered notes, to tearing you away from your unfinished chapters when the words just won’t flow anymore. Your cheeks are honestly starting to ache from the smile that seems to be constantly tugging at your lips. You take another sip of the hot beverage, nearly choking on the burning liquid as you notice the two new emails in your inbox. You open the hospital email first, the standardized note doing little to calm your nerves as you skim through the reminder of Namjoon’s appointment next week. You know the wolf hybrid is itching to get the heavy cast off in exchange for a lighter brace, so he’ll be happy to know that his leg is healing as it should be.

You push through the light tremor in your hands as you go to the next email, Yeonjun’s name creating a flurry of nerves to erupt in your stomach. You haven’t formally adopted Namjoon yet. The papers you signed were for a temporary stay while the shelter did more extensive research into your funds and background, so the notice you’ve been waiting for since you left the hospital is finally here. You’ll finally know if you've passed their tests or not. You hastily click the message before you can talk yourself out of it, your eyes scanning frantically over the page until you find the section you were looking for. You slump back in your chair, eyes growing wide as you read the same sentence over and over. You’re eligible to adopt Namjoon if he wants to stay with you.

“Hey Namjoon,” You grin. The gray ears on Namjoon’s head perk up at the sound of his name, the wolf hybrid’s bright questioning eyes meeting yours as you say, “How do you feel about steak tonight?”

“Smells good,” You swear you almost have a heart attack as Namjoon sneaks up behind you, the wolf hybrid sniffing the cooking meat over your shoulder. You have no idea how he manages to be this quiet with crutches.

“Good! They should be done in a few minutes,” You say as you flip the steaks over, turning down the heat to make sure they don’t get burned. You can feel the heat from Namjoon’s body lingering behind you, the wolf hybrid still rooted in place. You bite back a surprised squeal as Namjoon’s arm wraps around your waist, tugging you back a small step so that he can hook his chin over your shoulder.

“Is this okay?” You stiffen as Namjoon’s husky voice brushes against your ear, a shiver running down your spine at the close proximity. You’re no stranger to hugging or holding hands after living with Namjoon for two weeks, but this feels more .. intimate. Different.

“Of course,” You say. You suck your lower lip between your teeth as Namjoon’s fingers spray across your waist, the firm grip making your head spin as he begins to rub his cheek along your shoulder. Oh, you realize. He’s scenting you. So far Namjoon has only scented your wrists, and you understand now why he decided to limit himself to that, because this – this just feels like so much more. The wolf hybrid lets out a pleased huff as he moves to nose along your throat, his soft hair tickling your neck as he does his best to cover your scent with his own.

You can feel your eyes fluttering shut at the gentle touches, your head tilting to the side to allow Namjoon more access to your skin. You feel the rumble in Namjoon’s chest before you hear it, and it quickly dawns on you that you have once again barred your neck to the alpha, submitted, as teeth begin to nip at your sensitive throat. You clutch the spatula in your hand like it’s a lifeline, trying your best to focus on how the metal is digging into your skin rather than how Namjoon’s fingers have started trailing up and down your waist, leaving fires in their wake. You’re doing good, you think. Just don’t think about it. It’s natural, it’s okay–

Your eyes fly open as Namjoon’s tongue drags over the gentle bite marks on your skin, a choked whine escaping your throat. The wolf hybrid stills against your neck, lips resting against your throat as his tail wags furiously behind his back. You can’t tell whether it’s Namjoon’s or your own heart that’s beating so harshly against your ribcage, the wolf hybrid’s naturally woodsy smell making you feel lightheaded at how tightly it’s wrapped around you. You both stand frozen in place, embarrassment beginning to creep up your chest as Namjoon rubs his cheek against your shoulder one last time, his voice deep and raspy as he says, “You smell good.” You offer him a dazed nod, not trusting you voice. Your eyes stay locked on the slightly charred vegetables as the wolf hybrid pulls away. You can hear him clearly now, how he slowly moves his way back to the couch. You let out shuddering breath once you deem him far enough away, forcing your knees to stop shaking and the butterflies in your stomach to calm down as you finish preparing dinner.

“I have something to ask you,” You say. You figure you might as well bite the bullet considering you’ve only been pushing your food around for the last five minutes. Namjoon gives you an encouraging smile around the food in his mouth, his ears perked and attentive.

“I heard back from the shelter today,” You pause as Namjoon’s eyes widen, his jaw working furiously to get rid of the large piece of steak in his mouth. You stifle a snort, resting your chin in your palm as you wait for him to finish.

“Go on,” Namjoon swallows harshly. “Yeonjun told me that everything checks out. My income and credentials are good enough to officially adopt you,” You say. “That is, if you want me to?” You hastily add, a sliver of fear rushing through your veins as the wolf hybrid’s face becomes hard to read.

“Do you?” Namjoon asks.

“Want to adopt you? Yes. I know I might not have the most space to offer you, but there’s nothing I’d love more.” The thought of Namjoon leaving you makes your chest feel hollow and tight, but at the end of the day, it’s the wolf hybrid’s decision. Namjoon regards you silently for a few more seconds, his brown eyes searching your face one last time before his own crumbles with relief.

“Then adopt me. Please,” He rasps, “This is more than enough, I just want to stay with you.” You can’t hold back the smile that blooms on your face, a matching grin tugging at Namjoon’s lips as you say, “Deal.”  

It isn’t until later, when you go to bring out your sheets from your closet that Namjoon stops you. The wolf hybrid is resting on the foot of your bed, his fingers loosely clasped around your wrist as he says, “Stay.”

He clears his throat at the confused look in your eyes, his ears shifting nervously as he nods to the bed. “I know your back hurts from sleeping on the couch, and I promise I’ll keep to myself. Just .. sleep here with me?” You cast an uncertain glance at your bed, trying to calculate just how much space there will be between the two of you. Your back is sore, and the long hours working at your desk don’t exactly make it better. You have ordered a new bed for the extra bedroom, but that has yet to arrive. You probably should’ve realized the website was a little shady considering just how good of a deal the bed was. You sigh.

“I’ll stay.” You’re tired of feeling like you’re seventy years old when you wake up, and your back really needs some proper rest. You help Namjoon manoeuvre under the covers before you get yourself ready for bed. It feels weird slipping into it with Namjoon already there, the wolf hybrid giving you an amused grin at the groan that escapes when your back hits the soft mattress. You can feel the tenseness in your muscles melting away as you drag the duvet up to your nose, your hand blindly reaching for the bedside lamp until the room is plunged into darkness.

“Good night,” You whisper.

“Sweet dreams Y/n.” The warmth and security of Namjoon’s body being so close to yours drags you under before you know it, and truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you slept so well.

You huff as you drag the heavy laundry basket from the spare bedroom. The new bed you ordered has been sitting inside the room for a week, but it has yet to be used. You and Namjoon came to a silent agreement to just forget that it’s even there. As you drag the basket into the living room, you find your gaze automatically drifting to the wolf hybrid. You can’t help but feel guilty as you watch Namjoon lean against the balcony, the wolf hybrid bathed in golden light as the sun begins to set. Namjoon turns slightly, his ears picking up a sound you can’t hear from inside the apartment. The wolf hybrid’s eyes flutter as a soft gust of wind ruffles his hair, his tail wagging slowly at the fresh air. Still, you know it’s not enough. It’s the faint frown on Namjoon’s face that fuels your guilt, because despite his reassurances that this is all he needs, you know it’s a lie. He’s a wolf hybrid. He needs more space, he needs fresher air, and he needs the forest. He’s not made to live in an apartment in the middle of a bustling city, and especially not after living by himself for years out in the wilderness. This may be all he needs, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t happy.

Now that the weather has begun to grow warmer, Namjoon has started spending more and more time on your balcony. It’s been five weeks since the accident, so the bulky cast on his leg is switched out for a lighter brace, but his leg still isn’t strong enough to actually go for a walk outside. You think you both have started to go a little stir-crazy after hardly leaving the apartment for so long, but thankfully the doctor let you know at the last check-up that he can likely remove the brace and start using his leg slowly from next week. Yet, the parks around your area can’t compare in the slightest to the woods around Jihyo’s cabin. Namjoon is his own person, but with the papers you signed last week, he’s now also partially your responsibility. And you just want to do what’s best for the both of you.

You shake your head, huffing out a low curse as you bring the laundry to washing machine inside your bathroom. You chew mindlessly on your lip as you think, getting a little lost in your own thoughts as you watch the clothes being tossed around inside the machine. The soft flesh is almost bitten raw as you come to a conclusion. You don’t need the city in the same way that the wolf hybrid needs the forest. In all honestly, you’re starting to grow a little sick of the constant noise. The only thing you need is good Wi-Fi and well .. Namjoon. You close the bathroom door behind you with a firm snap, the guilt in your stomach slowly turning into excitement as you watch Namjoon push away from the balcony and make his way inside. You think you know how to fix this.  

Namjoon lets out a strained huff as he shifts on the couch. You can feel your concentration slipping further with each movement, the words in front of you bleeding together as you lose your place for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes. You know the wolf hybrid is anxious to get the brace off, but he literally only has to hold on for twelve more hours until it’s time for his appointment. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he keeps his book in his lap, his neck bent at an awkward angle as he tries to continue reading it. The wolf hybrid’s chest is falling and rising a little heavier than normal, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he keeps squirming, his gold tinted eyes nearly burning through the pages with the intensity in his gaze. You place your book down on the couch with a sigh.

“Namjoon,” You can feel your heart still in your chest as the wolf hybrid’s dark eyes

immediately fly up to find yours, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he has around the bound pages. “You know it’ll be easier to read your book if you– Oh,” Your mouth runs dry. You had snatched the book out of Namjoon’s hand to bring it up higher, but it didn’t quite cross your mind that maybe it had been placed there .. strategically. Namjoon is big, and the thick bulge straining against the gray fabric of his sweatpants leaves absolutely nothing to your imagination.

Your forcibly tear your eyes away, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you hastily flip the book around to get a proper look at the cover. It appears that Namjoon must’ve found the books you had stashed away in the other bedroom, those that are just tastefully decorated porn. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Namjoon’s voice is caught between a growl and a whine, the sound strangled and unsure as he reaches for his crutches, “I’ll just uh, go take a cold shower.”

“Do you want me to help?” You snap your mouth shut, horrified at the words that just bypassed your filter. The crutches scatter to the floor as the wolf hybrid turns back to face you, his voice breathless as he says, “What?”

You carefully place Namjoon’s book down on the couch, unsure if you should take the out he inadvertently just gave you. You know this is going into territory beyond just friends or roommates, but then again, your relationship is already a little too intimate to just call it that. But, you still don’t know if that’s because Namjoon has been depraved of human touch for so long that he’s trying to catch up to everything he missed out on, or because he actually likes you. You’ve already accepted your growing feelings for Namjoon, but you’re not sure this is a risk you’re willing to take. You should probably pretend that this never happened. You jump as Namjoon gently tilts your head up, his golden eyes dark as he says, “Y/n, what did you ask me?”

Or maybe, for once in your life, you should take a risk. The wolf hybrid’s gaze follows your throat as you swallow dryly, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you softly repeat, ”Do you want me to help?” The low growl that spills from Namjoon’s mouth makes your thighs clench.

“Fuck,” Namjoon curses, the dark look in his eyes growing wilder as he rasps out a strained, “Please.” Your knees hit the floor before you can even think about it, and another low growl rumbles in Namjoon’s chest as you look up at him.

“Your leg,” You eye the awkward way Namjoon has twisted himself, the wolf hybrid letting out an impatient huff as you wait for him to settle down properly on the couch. You slowly trail your fingers up his good leg once he’s situated, the injured one resting on the coffee table behind your back. You shuffle forward until you’re properly kneeling between Namjoon’s outstretched thighs, your hands resting on the firm muscles.

You keep your eyes locked on the wolf hybrid as you ease your hands up under his baggy shirt. You suck in a breath as you feel the taut and defined abs underneath your fingertips, the muscles jumping as you explore Namjoon’s body. You knew that the wolf hybrid was in good shape after being so active for many years, but the extra food and proper nutrition he’s been getting ever since you brought him home has really filled him out in the right places. You push Namjoon’s shirt up as your fingers trail higher, the firm skin making you bite back a moan. Namjoon is absolutely ripped. Goosebumps rise on Namjoon’s skin as he lets your hands slide across his stomach, the heavy breaths falling from his lips hitching as they glide down down down until your fingers are hooked into the waistband of his sweats. His hips rise off the couch enough to help you pull them off, and the wolf hybrid hastily works his good leg out of the material to give you more room. Namjoon’s hard cock is straining against his boxers, a patch of pre-cum already seeping through the material.

”Fuck, you’re big,” You breathe, biting down harshly on your lips as the wolf hybrid’s cock twitches at your words. Namjoon lets out a raspy whine as you press soft kisses to the inside of his thighs, not stopping until you reach the dark fabric clinging to his hips.

”Is this still okay?” You check, your cunt clenching around nothing as you look up to see how just wrecked Namjoon already looks. The wolf hybrid’s pupils are blown wide, and the veins in his arms look like they’re ready to pop out of his skin from how tightly he’s gripping onto the couch. Namjoon barely manages to nod before he throws his head back with a moan, your hot breath spilling across his skin as you lean down to mouth at his clothed cock. You lick against the already damp material, your nose trailing along the thick length. It doesn’t take long before Namjoon’s chest rumbles, his voice low and deep as he says, ”Y/n, no teasing.”

A shot of arousal travels down your spine at the wolf hybrid’s dominating tone, and you waste no time pulling his boxers down his legs, Namjoon quickly stepping out of it like he did with his sweats. Your nails dig lightly into the wolf hybrid’s thighs as you take in the sight of his cock, the thick and long length making your eyes widen. Namjoon is so big you can’t even properly close your fist around him, his shaft already glistening with pre-cum. You quickly rub your thumb across his slit as another drop forms, using it to coat the rest of his length as you lean in closer, just enough to press feather light kisses to the head of it. The wolf hybrid gasps at the contact, and you peak up to find his eyes shut tight, a light sheen of sweat on his face as he strains to hold himself back from touching you, tail wagging wildly behind his back. You press another kiss to the pinkish head of his cock, the pressure a little firmer as you open your mouth enough to take him in, swirling your tongue around the tip.

”Fuck, you feel so good,” Namjoon moans. His thighs clenches at the wet hotness around his cock, fingers twitching by his side as he digs them into the couch cushions. You begin to push down further on his length, trying your best to relax your throat as you slowly bob your head on Namjoon’s cock, hand stroking the rest of it to match the rhythm of your mouth. You moan as you feel the heavy weight of the wolf hybrid’s cock resting on your tongue, the slightly salty taste only spurring you on further as you tighten your lips around him. You slide your free hand up his thigh, grasping his tense fingers to bring them to your hair. You can tell Namjoon was itching to touch by the way he immediately gathers your soft locks between his fingers, curling them until he has a nice grip behind your head.

”Baby,” You look up just in time to meet Namjoon’s hooded gaze, a whine pressing up your throat at the desperate hunger in his eyes. The vibrations makes the wolf hybrid’s hips jerk, the sudden motion making you choke as his cock brushes against the back of your throat. The grip in your hair tightens as Namjoon tries to pull your back, but the apology dies on his lips as you deliberately swallow him down even further, refusing to let him tug you off.

“Look at you,” The wolf hybrid groans, ”You were made for this, weren’t you baby?” You can only hum in response, Namjoon’s words making your cunt throb with need as you futilely try to rub your thighs together to create some friction. The wolf hybrid’s hand follows the movements of your head as you up your pace, your lips coming down to touch the fingers wrapped around his base as you take him in faster. Your name rolls of Namjoon’s tongue like a prayer as he watches you swallow down his cock, his abs clenching as you don’t let up on the speed.

”Fuck, your mouth looks so pretty stuffed full of my cock,” Namjoon growls. Trying to not choke on the stiff length in your mouth has distracted you enough that you don’t notice the weight forming underneath your fingers until you’re staring down at a fully formed knot. You don’t have much time to think about it before you feel Namjoon’s grip in your hair tighten, his chest rumbling as he helps you swallow down another inch of his cock. You’re almost at the base, almost touching his knot with only a couple of fingers between the taut skin and your lips.

“I– shit, I'm not going to last.” Tears spring to your eyes as you hum around the wolf hybrid’s length, the vibrations making Namjoon’s breaths turn harsher, louder, as your determination grows. You can feel Namjoon’s impending orgasm before he even manages to stutter out a broken warning, the grip in your hair bordering on painful as you suck harder, your tongue dragging along his length one last time before you feel the knot under your fingers begin to throb.

”Oh, fuck– Baby,” You cling to Namjoon’s toned thighs, nails digging into his skin as you feel the first burst of cum hit your throat. The wolf hybrid’s hard cock pulses as he lets out a loud moan, the tail behind his back stilling as he releases his load. You whimper as you feel spurt after spurt trail down your throat, breathing becoming more and more difficult until you’re forced to pull back to swallow it down easier. You gently bob your head, hand once again stroking Namjoon’s length as you coax him through his orgasm.

“Y/n,” Namjoon whines, his legs beginning to tremble from overstimulation as you swipe your tongue one last time over the head of his cock, swallowing down the last of the salty substance lingering in your mouth. You can feel the wetness between your own legs as you pull back to press a chaste kiss to Namjoon’s knee, the wolf hybrid loosening the grip he has on your hair to gently massage his fingers into your scalp. A blowjob has never left you so turned on before, but as Namjoon’s gentle touches against the dull stinging in your scalp continues, the throbbing between your legs is forced to take a backseat as your heart overflows with fondness at how he always finds a way to take care of you too.

You glance up to find Namjoon’s warm eyes already looking at you, the hunger in them still there. ”Let me return the favour,” Namjoon rasps as the hand in your hair glides down over your shoulders, all the way down to the hand resting on his leg. You want it so bad, but– ”Later,” You wince at the hoarseness in your throat, gently patting Namjoon’s injured leg as you say, “Let’s save it for later when your leg has healed.”

”Hmm, you better baby,” The air gets knocked out of your lungs at the smirk Namjoon gives you, the points of his canines just poking out over his lips as he leans back to catch his breath. You take the moment to marvel at the golden skin under your hands, at how Namjoon’s muscles dance underneath your fingertips. Baby. It makes your head swim in the best way. You grin as you trail a finger over the wolf hybrid’s softening cock, Namjoon’s good leg kicking out in protest as you touch the sensitive skin. He’s still dripping, the knot at the base of his cock almost gone. You push up from your knees with a soft groan, but Namjoon catches your hand before you can leave, his gray ears pulling back.

”Where are you going?” The worry in his handsome feature is obvious, and you reach out to smooth the furrow between his brows.

”I’m just going to get a towel to get you cleaned up,” You smile. You can tell the wolf hybrid is still reluctant to let you go, but he eventually relents, squeezing your fingers before he releases it.

You almost grimace at your own reflection as you run the towel under the lukewarm water. You look absolutely wrecked.Your hair is a mess, and you quickly splash some water on your face to attempt to make yourself look a little more presentable. Namjoon cleans himself up quickly as you go to grab something to soothe the rasp in your throat, the wolf hybrid readjusting his sweats around his hips as you settle down next to him.

”Namjoon–” Your breath hitches as he suddenly leans in, the wolf hybrid’s hand reaching up to cup your cheek as he places soft pecks against your lips. You melt into his touch, eagerly moving your mouth against his as you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers curling into the long hair at his nape. A pleased rumble sounds from Namjoon’s chest as you open you lips enough for his tongue to meet yours. You allow yourself to drown in Namjoon – the gentle touch on your cheek and the passionate kisses pulling you under until your mind grows hazy, your lungs screaming for air when you finally break away from his lips.

The wolf hybrid wastes no time moving his lips down your jaw, pressing gentle pecks against your skin all the way down to your neck. Namjoon’s tail wags steadily behind his back as he inhales your scent, the soft kisses turning into nips and licks as he marks your throat. You try your best to get your ragged breath under control as Namjoon takes his time scenting your neck. The wolf hybrid presses a kiss just below your ear; his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he murmurs out a fond, “I like you so much.”

”What?” You squeak, your eyes growing wide as you tug Namjoon back. Even if this is what you’ve been dying to hear, you can’t help but feel a little anxious. Anxious that this might be a mistake, that Namjoon’s affection might be a little misplaced, but still– ”I like you,” He repeats, the confidence in his voice wavering as he says, ”I don’t want this to just be a one time thing. I want this – us – to be more.”

You find yourself nodding along to Namjoon’s words before he’s even finished, a shy grin blooming on your face as you say, ”Me too. I like you too, so much.” Namjoon’s face lights up like the sun at your confession, his ears perked and his tail moving so quickly behind his back you can’t even keep track of it. The pure adoration you find in the wolf hybrid’s eyes make you flush, but Jihyo’s words keep you from pulling away. You have no guarantees that this will work out, but you know that you would be a fool if you don’t even try.

”Good,” Namjoon grins. You card your fingers through Namjoon’s silver locks, just high enough to scratch gently behind one of the wolf hybrid’s ears. Namjoon turns into putty in your hands, his head slumping against your shoulder to allow you easier access to his ears as he lets out a pleased noise. You let out a small giggle, brushing your lips against his cheek as you whisper, ”Good.”

“So ..” You extend your arm behind you, watching Namjoon intently as you say, ”What do you think?” The wolf hybrid’s head tilts as he takes in his surroundings, his gray ears twitching as he tries to pinpoint where all the different sounds are coming from. You’re standing in front of a quaint little cottage in the woods, about an hour drive away from the city and your current apartment. You had fallen head over heels for the property the moment you first saw it, the beautiful stone and wood building screaming your name as you had clicked through the photos. It does need a little TLC, but it’s nothing you and Namjoon can’t fix. The cottage looks like a dream with the lush trees and colourful flowers encasing it, and you can’t help but think that this is the home you’ve been waiting for. The wolf hybrid’s face is unreadable as his golden eyes scan the area, but you notice that his tail twitches, as if he’s trying to hold himself back from getting excited.

“What’s this?” Namjoon strides around the car with ease, no trace of his injury left as he intertwines your fingers with his.

“Well, it’s ours. If you want it,” You bite down on your lip in anticipation as surprise flickers across Namjoon’s face, the wolf hybrid quickly moving his gaze back to the cottage, and the dense woods behind it. “I do,” Namjoon breathes, a brilliant smile settling on his face, “It’s perfect.”

“Oh thank god,” You sigh dramatically, collapsing against the wolf hybrid’s side as he rolls his eyes. He quickly wraps his arm around your shoulder, tugging you close enough to nose against your neck.

”But are you sure you want to leave the city?” Namjoon says, his tone a little worried at the prospect of you leaving everything you have behind.

You circle your arms around the wolf hybrid’s waist, shifting your position enough to allow you to look up at Namjoon’s face as you say, ”I can write anywhere. The only thing that I need is you,” You rise slightly off the ground, just enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ”And good Wi-Fi,” You add with a grin.

Namjoon snorts as he dips his head down to fit his lips properly against yours, the kiss lazy and sweet as the early summer breeze ruffles your hair. The last four months have thrown you for a loop you never could have expected, but as you stand here with Namjoon, you realize that maybe that’s the beauty of it all. Life might be uncertain, but what isn’t, is that you love Namjoon, and Namjoon loves you back. And that’s all you need to know.

a/n: it took some time but out of the woods is finally finished! i really hope you enjoyed wolf!namjoon’s solo story, he’s really just a big babie and he deserves the best. :( if you liked the story then please drop me a reblog/comment, that would mean the world to me! as always, see you all soon and stay safe! <3 and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖 i would really appreciate the support!

[sugamamacustard]

Let me help you

Pairing:  Alpha! Toru Oikawa x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Hajime Iwaizumi x Omega! Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, Hurt/comfort.

Request: Because I like a bit of hurt/comfort, and I love the idea of an omega depression, I'm curious on how alpha third years on Aoba Johsai (so like Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Mattsun) would do in response to their omega being in an omega depression.

Summary: Because of unseen circumstances, you drop, and you drop hard. How does your alpha help you/redeem himself?

Author’s Note:  Oikawa’s got really long, so I didn’t include Mattsun or Makki. If you wanna request a part 2 I’ll get on it right away!

Requests: Open!

Toru Oikawa

➵ Truth be told, it was kind of his fault. 

➵Right after you both bonded, he immediately seemed to drop any redeeming qualities he had while courting you.

➵He skipped out on dates, stayed later and later at practice, gave the mile to his fangirls.

➵And while you could get over that, the worse thing you realized was when you went to cheer him on at one of his games. 

➵His bond mark was covered with a scent gland bandage and when Iwaizumi noticed it (He knew of your bonding), he sent a worried glance your way.

➵He could practically see the heartbreak from his place on the court. 

➵What was worse was that you didn’t make a scene. 

➵You stood, turned and left. That was it. 

➵ Oikawa was busy doing his pre-game whatever to notice, making the situation even worse.  

➵Iwaizumi wanted to follow you but the whistle of the ref called him back. 

➵ You didn’t want Iwaizumi to follow you anyway. 

➵You felt numb. So, so numb. 

➵Like anything you previously felt-- any longing, or wishing for your alpha-- reduced to a numb buzz that kept your body moving. 

➵You felt like you were on Autopilot. 

➵Toru made it fairly obvious that he wanted your bond mark on display, so why weren’t the same standards held to him? It wasn’t against the rules of volleyball-- several alphas had theirs out on proud display with their omega cheering in the stands. 

➵Was it you?

➵God, you felt so empty. Like your will to live was dripping away. 

➵You felt your omega lay down, whining as they tried to figure out what was wrong. Where did you go wrong? 

➵You barely felt the soft fleece of your blankets as you settled into your nest for who knows how long. 

___

 Toru was lost. You were in the stands during warm-up last game, but was gone by half-time. Okay, fine. Maybe you had to pee. But then you didn’t show up at all after that.  While at the time it took a back burner-- because we all know how Oikawa plays-- it was now front and center. His alpha was on edge and snapped on him twice already, sending sharp throbs of pain to his temples. It had been three days since Toru had seen you, his mate, so Toru could tell that was a big reason for his frustration. But Toru didn’t know why you had been gone for three days. 

If you were sick, why didn’t you text him? Were you injured? Toru didn’t know.  His neck burnt with anticipation at the thought of you in any peril. 

Where were you?

 Shoving his way past a few fangirls, Toru made his way into the gym, racking his brain for any sort of hint. Vacation maybe and you just forgot to tell him?

 “Iwa-chan! I need your-” Toru paused, huffing when Iwaizumi roughly shoved past him. His alpha was on guard immediately, making Toru growl loudly.   “What’s you issue, Iwa? Blue-balled or something?” 

The laugh that left Iwaizumi made even him, the head alpha, shiver. “My issue? What’s yours?! You absolutely destroyed your relationship last game and ask me for help?! What the hell is wrong with you, Oikawa?!”  

Oikawa swallowed. There was no nickname. No sense of friendship in his words. They were straight malice, laced with acidic venom meant to hurt him. 

When Oikawa didn’t immediately answer, Iwaizumi continued. “You make them wear their bond mark for all the world to see, but cover yours up? What in the actual fuck is wrong with you?! How in the hell you got someone like them to glance your way for more than a second is beyond me, let alone bond you; but when you do, you fucking destroy them. You’re a failure of an alpha, Toru Oikawa.” 

Truth be told, Oikawa thought that him covering up his bond mark would save you from trouble. The less people who knew about him being mated the less people to harass you. But he was your alpha. He was supposed to make sure that didn’t happen anyway.  Fuck, Iwa was right. He was a failure. This became evident as more and more things came hurdling back at him.  He didn’t even grab his duffel before he was, quite literally, sprinting out of the gym. He didn’t care who he pushed over. He didn’t care who he snapped at. He didn’t care. He only care about one person and one person alone. 

___

You whined as hunger continued gnawing at your gut. You wanted to eat, really, but you just didn’t have the energy. You didn’t have the will. 

You still felt so numb and didn’t know where to go from here. At this point, it was clear you were in the midst of an Omega Depression, and to be fair-- that scared you. You wanted to spend the evening in your nest, restart and reboot, before talking to your alpha about it the next day. You truly didn’t mean to drop. 

But here you were. The aspect of ...starvation scared you. The aspect of no closure for yourself scared you. Death scared you. But you couldn’t fight yourself to fix it. Couldn’t bring yourself to even lift your head or stay awake for more than an hour. 

The door to your room slammed open, but you didn’t look up. It was probably your guardian coming in to try and get you to eat again. But you wouldn’t. 

Your heart dropped when the smell of burnt plastic invaded your sense. 

“No- no, no, no, no no- Please god no-” Oikawa felt his heart shatter at the sight of you. You looked like you had both feet dangling in the grave, hanging on by a loose root you grabbed onto in a last ditch effort. 

He continued repeating no while running his hands through his hair, already crying before he even set foot in your room.  When he did dare step closer, that was all it took before he was running to you, pulling you in close despite your whines of protest.  His grip on you was bruising, but he couldn’t risk letting you slip. Not again. 

“Please- please don’t leave me.” He sobbed into your shoulder, your own eyes stinging (Dehydration keeping tears from falling).  “I- I can fix this- I can fix us. Fuck- Please Y/N. Please omega, let me help you. Let me make this right!”

Though you didn’t say anything, the grip on his jacket told him all he needed to know. And though it would be a long road to recovery, you and him would conquer it. 

➵ Completely contrary to Oikawa, your drop wasn’t anyone’s fault.

➵Maybe the school systems, if there was blame to be put. 

➵So much had gone on in such a short period. 

➵You and your alpha, along with his team, had been bombarded with practice and paperwork in preparation for the upcoming tournament. 

➵But just because volleyball picked, doesn’t mean school drops off.

➵ You had essay after essay due, Unit exams which would soon fall into Final exams.

➵You and Hajime had barely even seen each other all week.

➵You both still sent each other good morning and good night texts, and if you see each other in the hallway you’ll give each other a quick peck. 

➵Honestly, it was obvious everyone was on edge. 

➵Teachers didn’t care though, they just kept piling on more, and more, and more work.

➵ And volleyball just kept getting closer and closer.

➵You stumbled into the gym with a chirp, trying to sort through the multitude of papers in your arms. 

➵Your back was aching and your arms were strained, but you couldn’t drop them. That would be a disaster. 

➵ The coach sent you a raised brow, offering a hand to help. You waved him off, sitting on the bench with a grunt.

➵Everyone was already sweaty and panting, practice in full swing. 

➵God, everyone looked so tired already. 

➵You could feel the waves of exhaustion.

➵ As they were just in deep in your bones as they were in theirs. 

___

“Did you finish filling out the registry forms?”

You looked up to the coach, nodding slowly before riffling through your papers and pulling out the ones you were looking for. You handed them to the beta, quickly going back to your notes once more. 

You noted the stumbled steps and slowed reflexes, but simply made it a point to emphasize rest with the boys. Maybe a day with no practice would do them more good then practice. 

Hajime was doing well, as usual, somehow keeping his head and energy high. You know he hasn’t gotten much rest either, and you felt for your alpha. Honestly, you just wanted one day with just you and your alpha, where you both could sleep the day away and come back good as new. 

That just sounded glorious. 

“You wouldn’t mind filling out the ref sheets either, would you?” The beta smirked, already handing you the sheets. He knew you had a tough time saying no to people older and/or bigger than you; and had you doing several things that most mangers would never touch.

It was tiring.

You reluctantly took the sheets, already starting on them. The notes you were working on were yanking from under you, the coach reading over them. 

He scoffed at your note of possibly skipping a practice. “Are you serious?” 

“I’m sorry?”

“Take a break?! These boys are on the brink of a skillful breakthrough, and you want to stop them?!” 

You closed in on yourself at the yells, trying to focus on the ref sheets. He continued yelling and berating you for the notes you made. You could feel the teams stares on you, but you also knew they wanted you to learn to stand up for yourself. They had been giving you a few minutes to try and collect yourself and if nothing happened they would step in. 

It only took seconds for you to finally break down, sobbing into your hands as the coach’s yelling reached a breaking point. The team took very time to act then and there. 

Oikawa and Kyoutani were snapping and growling, pushing him back and away from you while Hajime slid onto his knees in front of you, pulling you to his chest and kissing your bond mark. He rocked you side to side, purring and letting you cry. 

You sobbed and sobbed while the coach tried backtracking, but it was too late. The pack was on defense. One of them was in danger and they were going to make sure they all were safe. 

___

You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you wake up, your in Hajime’s arms, which are wrapped tight around your waist. 

Oikawa was on the other side of you, head on Hajime’s thigh, Makki and Mattsun were cuddling together a little to the left of you. Kyoutani was closest to you (He had a soft spot for you, almost like you were another older sister to him). You ran a hand through his hair for a moment before taking a deep breath in and out. The rest of the team was scattered in the puppy pile around you, and the gym was dark. 

In fact, everything was dark. There were chairs propped up by the door, just in case you supposed, and there were jackets littered everywhere. Your heart fluttered at the thought. 

Hajime’s arms subconsciously tightened around you, luring you back into sleep.

You, your alpha, and your pack.

[scorpionyx9621]

Do you think Jason Todd fandom is kinda toxic? Because it seems like NO MATTER what DC do, there'll always be complains. Forget the bad adaptation like Titans. Even Judd Winick cannot escape the criticism with how he potrayed Robin!Jason. They just never satisfied.

SORRY, IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO RESPOND TO THIS. I just moved from Washington D.C. to Seattle, which, for my non-American friends, that's 4442km away. And I DROVE THERE ALL BY MYSELF. And now I'm trying to find new work in a new city and trying to stay mentally healthy and positive. Life is exciting but hard and scary.

*sighs*

As someone who was a fandom elder with V*ltr*n. I've seen some of the worst when it comes to fandom behavior. I'm talking people baking food with shaving razors and trying to give them to the showrunners. I'm talking leaking major plot details and refusing to take it down unless they make their ship canon (I am looking at you, Kl*nce stans) For the most part, DC Comics has had a decades-long reputation of treating their fans like trash and not caring what they think so from what I've seen, we all just grumble and complain in our corners of the internet about how we don't like how X comic portrays Jason Todd.

The challenge with Jason Todd is that he's your clinical anti-hero, the batfamily's Draco in Leather Pants, he's a jerkass woobie, and on top of all of that, he's a Tumblr sexyman. It's a perfect storm for a very fun but frustrating character to be a fan of. It doesn't help that every writer decides to re-invent the wheel every time Jason comes up so his canon lore is confusing at best and inconsistent as a standard.

I guess starting with a general brief on who Jason is and what is uniform about him with every instance he's appeared in comics/media.

Grew up in a poor family in Gotham with a dad who was a petty-mid-level criminal, and a mother who dies of a drug overdose.

Survives on the street on his own by committing petty crimes and potentially even engaging in sexual acts to keep himself alive.

Is cornered by Batman and taken in after Dick Grayson quits/is fired

Becomes the second Robin, but is known for being the harsher, more brutal Robin.

Is killed by Joker after being tortured, but somehow comes back to life and regains senses through the Lazarus Pit

Resolves himself to be better than Batman by basically being Batman but kills people.

Where there has been a lot of conflict in the fandom is the fact that Jason Todd is not a character that is written consistently. DC Comics loves to go with the narrative that Jason was "bad from the start" and was the "bad robin" when, yes, he has trouble controlling his anger, but he also still is just as invested in seeing the best of Gotham City and trying to be a positive change for the world as any other DC Comics hero.

Where I get frustrated with the fandom is its ability to knit-pick every detail of a comic they don't like while completely disregarding everything that makes the comics great and worth it to read. My example being Urban Legends. To which most people had pretty mixed reactions to. I was critical of the comic at first but as it went along I ended up really liking it. I have a feeling DC Comics went to Chip Zdarsky and told him he had 6 issues to bring Jason back into the Bat Family, and honestly he didn't do a bad job. Did it feel rushed? Absolutely. I wish there was more development of Jason and Bruce's characters and their dynamic as a whole. However, where I see a lot of people being angry and upset with Urban Legends is that they feel Zdarsky needlessly wrote Jason as an incompetent fool who needs Bruce to save him.

Whether or not that was the intention of Zdarsky is up to debate. However, and this may be controversial, but I don't think he wrote Jason Todd out of character at all. For as fearsome, intimidating, and awesome as Red Hood is. Jason is a character who is absolutely driven by his emotions. Why do you think he donned the role of Red Hood? As a response to his anger towards The Joker for killing him, and towards Bruce for not taking action against The Joker and for seemingly replacing him so quickly after he died. Jason didn't care about being the murderous Robin Hood or for being the bloody hammer of justice against N*zi's and P*d*ph*les. He only cared originally about making The Joker and Bruce pay. It wasn't until he trained under the best assassins in the world and realized most of them were horrific criminals who trafficked children and were p*dos that Talia began to realize that the teachers that she sent Jason to train under started dying horrific and painful deaths.

The entire story of the Cheer story in Batman Urban Legends was started because it finally forced some consequences upon Jason. Tyler, aka Blue Hood's father was a drug dealer who gave his supply to his wife and kids. And when Tyler's father admitted he gave the drugs to Tyler, it immediately made him fall within the self-imposed philosophical kill-list of Jason Todd. And Jason, well, he proceeds to kill Tyler's father. When this happens, Jason is in shock. Tyler's dad fit the bill to easily and justifiably be killed by Jason. We've never seen Jason having to deal with the consequences of being a murderous vigilante on a micro-level. When Jason realizes what he's done in that he's murdered Tyler's dad, he's shocked. He tells Babs the truth. He does a rational thing because he's in shock. He doesn't know what to do, he never has had to face the consequences of his actions as Red Hood and now the gravity of befriending a child as a vigilante hero who kills people just set in when he killed the father of the same child he was just introduced to.

(Oh here's a little aside because it had to be said, Jason would not have been a good father or a good mentor to Tyler and absolutely should not have been his new Robin. Jason is a man who is in his early 20's (not saying men in their early 20's can't be good fathers at all) who is a brutal serial killer using the guise of a vigilante anti-hero to let him escape most of the law. the complications of having the man who murdered your father adopt you and make you his sidekick are way too numerous for me to explain in a long-winded already heavy Tumblr essay post. There's a reason why we don't advocate for a story where Joe Chill adopted Bruce Wayne or one where Tony Zucco took in Dick Grayson.)

The next biggest argument is that they feel that Jason is giving up his guns as a means to just be invited back into the Bat-Family. To which I will tell anyone who has that argument to go actually read Urban Legends. Already have and still have that argument? Please re-read it. Don't want to? That's okay, I will paste the images from the comic where Jason specifically says that he doesn't want to give up his weapons for Bruce and his real reasoning down below since the comic isn't exactly readily accessible.

Jason gave up the guns because he felt the gravity of what he had done and knows how it'll effect Tyler. Thankfully his mom is alive and in recovery. But Tyler doesn't have a father anymore. And Jason killed Tyler's father. It may have been in accordance to Jason's philosophy, but it was a case where it blurred the lines. Jason Todd isn't a black and white character, just very dark gray. He doesn't kill aimlessly like the Joker. If you are on Jason's list you probably have done something pretty horrific, and also just in general, being in his way or being a threat to him. Mind you, in early days of Red Hood and the Outlaws (Image below) Jason almost killed 10 innocent civilians in a town in Colorado all because they saw him kill a monster. That being said, Jason isn't aimless in his kills.

(Also can we just take a moment to appreciate Kenneth Rocafort's art? DC Comics said we need to rehabilitate Jason Todd's image and Kenneth Rocafort said hold my beer: It's so SO GOOD)

That being said, the key emphasis in the story of Cheer asides from trying to introduce Jason Todd back into the Bat Family and give an actual purpose for him being there, other than him just kind of being there ala Bowser every time he shows up for Go Kart racing, Tennis, Golf, Soccer, and the Olympic games when Mario invites him, is that Jason and Bruce ultimately both want the same thing. Jason wants to be welcomed back into the family and to be loved and appreciated. Bruce want's Jason back as his son and wants to love and protect Jason. Both of these visions are shown in the last chapter of Cheer while under the effect of the Cheer Gas. It's ultimately this love and appreciation they both have for each other that helps them overcome their challenge and win.

Jason Todd is a character who, just like Bruce, has been through so much pain and so much hate in his life. The two are meant to parallel each other. While Bruce chose to see the best in everyone, giving every rogue in his gallery the option to be helped and give them a second chance, hence why he never kills, Jason has a similar view on wanting to protect the public, but he understands that some crimes are so heinous they cannot be forgiven, or that some habitual criminals are due to stay habitual criminals, and need to be put down. But at the end of the day, the two of them both try to protect people in their own ways.

I am aware that through the writings of various DC Comics authors such as Scott Lobdell and Judd Winick, the two have had a very tumultuous relationship. And rightfully so, I am by no means saying that Scott Lobdell writing an arc where Bruce literally beats Jason to within an inch of his life in Red Hood and the Outlaws, nor Judd Winick's interpretation of Under the Red Hood where Bruce throws the Batarang at Jason's neck, slicing his throat and leaving him ambiguously for dead at the end of the comic is appropriate considering DC Comics seems to be trying everything they can to integrate Jason back into the family. That being said, a lot of these writings have shaped the narrative of Jason and Bruce's relationship and have an integral effect on the way the fandom views the two. It doesn't help that Zdarsky acknowledged Lobdell's life-beating of Jason by Bruce at the very end of Cheer by having Bruce give Jason his old outfit back as a means of mending the fence between the two of them. That does complicate a lot of things in terms of how they are viewed by the fandom and helps to cause an even greater divide between the two.

Regardless, I want to emphasize the fact that Jason Todd is a part of the family of his own accord. Yes, he's quite snarky and deadpan in almost every encounter. However, Jason is absolutely a part of the family and has been for a while of his own will. There's a great moment in Detective Comics that emphasizes this. Jason cares about his family because it is his found family. Yes, they may be warry about him and use him as a punching back and/or heckle him. At the end of the day, we're debating the family dynamics of a fictional playboy billionaire vigilante whose kleptomania took the form of adopting troubled children and turning them into vigilante heroes. Jason Todd wants a family that will love and support him. This is a key definition of his character at its most basic. This was proven during the events of Cheer and is being reenforced by DC Comics every time they get the opportunity to do so.

Now, none of this is to say that I hate Judd Winick. I do not, I don't like the fact that in all of his writings of Jason, he just writes him as a dangerous psychopath, and Winick himself admits to seeing Jason as nothing much more than a psychopath. Yet Winick is the one who the majority of the fandom clings to as the one true good writer of Jason Todd because 'Jason was competent, dangerous, smart' Listen, friends, Jason is all of that and I will never deny it. However, what I love about Jason isn't that he's dangerously smart of that writers either write him as angsty angry Tumblr sexyman bait or that they write him as an infantile man child with a gun. There's a large contention of this fandom that has an obsession with Jason Todd being this vigilante gunman who is hot and sexy and while I definitely get the appeal. It is very creepy and downright disturbing that all of you hyperfixate on his use of guns and ability to be a murderer. It is creepy and I'm not necessarily here for it.

What I love about Jason Todd is that despite all of the pain, all of the heartache, all of the betrayal, and bullying, and death, and anguish. Jason Todd is one of the most loving and supportive characters in all of DC Comics. Jason has been through so much in his life, but he still chooses to love. He still chooses to see the bright side in people. Yes, he takes a utilitarian approach and chooses to kill certain villains, but at the end of the day he wants to see a better world, and he wants to be loved. It takes so much courage and so much heart to learn to love again after one has been abused or traumatized. I would not blame Jason at all if he said fuck it and just went full solo and vigilante evil. He has every right to, but he still chooses to be with the Bat Family of his own accord. That's something that I see a lot of in myself. I have been through a lot of trauma and yet I try to be a better person myself in any way that I can. It is extremely admirable of Jason to allow love back into his heart when he really doesn't need to. He kills and he protects because he has this love of society. It may have been shaped by anger and hatred, but Jason has found his place amongst people who love him and value him. I think Ducra, from Red Hood and the Outlaws put it best in the image given below.

To end this tangent, I love Jason Todd and all of his sexy dangerousness, but it's far more than that. As much as Jason may be dangerous and snarky, he loves his family without a shadow of a doubt. I look up to Jason Todd because despite all of his pain and all of his trauma, he still choses to love. Jason Todd is a character who is someone I love because despite all of his flaws and having a very toxic fandom, he still serves as a character filled with so much heart and so much passion. I wish more writers would understand that. But for now I will live with what I have. Even though the fandom may be vocal about it's hatred for his characterization, I choose to love Jason regardless because he is a character who chooses love and acceptance regardless of his pain. Jason Todd is by no means a good person in any sense of the word. He has easily killed upwards of 100 people by now. He is a character who is flawed and complex but ultimately is one who powers forwards and finds love and heart in a place from so much pain and anguish. That is what I love about Jason Todd. After all, to quote a famous undead robot superhero, "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Jason Todd chooses to love despite all of the trauma and pain and grief. Yes, he is hardened in his exterior, but inside there is a man with a lot of love to give and someone who deserves the world in my eyes.

[moonlit-reveriee]

Hey there Moon, if your requests are still open, could you do a C!Techno x Female! Reader who’s a total badass with weapons? Like she’s quick and agile with a bow and sword?

Hope you have a wonderful day/night! ^^

A Lover, and a Fighter

technoblade x fem!reader

this story was really fun to write, and i think it came out pretty cute. thank you for your request, and your patience. i hope you enjoy!

content warning // SFW, mention of drinking alcohol, description of fighting (no mention of blood or injury)

listen to this while you read: Notos by The Oh Hellos

───※ ·❆· ※───

***this story takes place during & after the revolution against Dante, with the headcanon that Hypixel takes the form of a medieval kingdom within the same universe as the dsmp***

It had been a long time since Techno had visited Hypixel, and even longer since he had taken the time to observe any of the fighters being trained there. He wasn’t surprised to see many unfamiliar faces amongst the crowds battling against Dante. But one figure in particular grabbed his attention.

As he soared through the air, launched upwards by the shockwaves of Dante’s movements, he noticed someone standing on top of a nearby building. A warrior with bow and arrow held upwards to the sky, their aim remaining steady despite the tremors that shook the earth. They leapt to the ground, swiftly pulling out a sword and began chopping down several of Dante’s goons with a single swipe.

Even in the heat of battle, he couldn’t help but be impressed. There was a deadly accuracy to all of their movements. It showed tremendous skill, and dedication to honing their abilities.

Once Dante had been defeated, Techno stayed behind to aid in Hypixel’s recovery. He walked around the battlefield strewn with debris. He shook the hand of every revolutionary he could find, secretly searching for the warrior he had seen upon the rooftops.

After a while, he was able to spot them in the crowds. A woman helping clear rubble from the destroyed community center, familiar bow and sword strapped across her back.

“Thank you for your aid in the revolution”, he said as he approached, offering a hand for her to take. She accepted it with a grip strong enough to rival his own.

“I would do anything to rid Hypixel of Dante’s corruption”, she spoke with confidence. She released his hand and turned her attention back to the rubble, lifting a wooden beam over her shoulder with ease.

“I noticed the way you fought”, he continued, bending over to pick up a piece of broken cobblestone, “you seem very skilled.”

She glanced at him from the side, mouth curving upwards into a very slight smirk.

“That’s quite the compliment coming from the blood god himself.”

“I understand good fighting when I see it”, he said with a shrug. She squinted her eyes at him, almost suspicious.

“It would be foolish of me to turn down such a compliment”, she said as she walked off towards the pile of discarded wood. He chased after her, watching her drop the beam off her shoulders with a heavy thud.

“What is your name?”, he asked when she turned to face him. She paused, quickly looking I’m up and down. She seemed skeptical of his interest in her, and maybe that was fair.

“y/n”, she said, crossing her arms.

“Would you like to duel, y/n?”, he blurted out impulsively. Her eyes widened, noticing the way he was blushing out of embarrassment.

“Are you flirting with me, Sir Blade?”, mischievous grin spreading across her face.

He sputtered, blush deepening on his cheeks while she laughed boisterously.

“Let’s clean up first”, she clapped an armored hand over his shoulder with a loud metal clank, “meet me at the duels arena in a few days.” She walked past him, leaving him to twist around and watch her back as she left.

Techno ended up seeing her again before their duel. Members of the revolution were meeting in a local tavern to celebrate, and he found her lounging in a quiet corner of the bar. Tankard in her hand, she happily watched the other members of the guild drunkenly trip over themselves. He didn’t approach her, at least not at first.

Later in the evening, a man sidled up to her table. Techno couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it seemed like she was trying to politely shoo him away. Clearly drunk out of his mind, he reached out a hand and forcibly cupped her cheek. Techno stood up from his seat, ready to yank the man back by his collar. Before he could, she grabbed his hand and bent his arm backwards behind his head. The man was sent to his knees, wincing in pain.

“I said don’t touch me”, she sneered, “learn to follow my words when I say them nicely.”

She released the man’s hand, allowing him to stumble away with a steely glare. Once he was throughly out of her sight, she turned her attention to where Techno had begun to approach her.

“I appreciate your help, even though it was unneeded”, she sighed heavily.

“Does this happen often?”, he asked.

“Not really”, she said, “I guess the guys here think plate armor is attractive.”

“It’s probably the only clothes they’ve seen a woman in”, he joked. She chuckled lightly, the sound surprisingly sweet compared to her demeanor.

“Would you like a drink?”, she offered once her laughter had subsided.

“Ah, I would”, he sighed, “but let me cover it, I insist.”

“No”, she said firmly, “I’m sure everyone here wants to buy you a drink. Allow it to be me for tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow, noticing the flash of determination in her eye. He gave her a nod, surrendering to her wishes. She bought two pints of honeyed ale, sweet and subtly floral. They drank in comfortable silence, watching the absolutely wasted tavern goers make fools of themselves.

Time passed, and day of their duel arrived. The damage from Dante’s attack had finally been cleared and construction of the destroyed buildings began. Techno felt calm as he strode through the familiar courtyards of Hypixel’s training grounds, which surprised him. For some reason, he expected to be nervous. But at the same time, there was nothing to be nervous about, right? This was just a friendly duel between friends. Just friends who have only known each other for a few days.

His felt his stomach twist. Maybe he was nervous.

When he entering the arena, he found her already waiting for him, clad in a simpler set of armor than the one she wore to fight Dante. She waved her arm upon noticing his entrance, bright and crooked smile on her face.

“Are you ready to duel, Sir Blade?”, she called across the field. Something about that nickname made his heart glow.

“Only if you are, y/n.”

“Oh, I’m ready to get my ass kicked.”

“Hey now”, he retorted playfully, “I think you will put up a good fight.”

“We’ll see”, she shrugged, stretching her arms to warm up the muscles.

“Standard kit?”, he questioned, “diamond armor, sword and bow?”

“As long as it’s not a crossbow. I haven’t figured those fuckers out yet”, she muttered.

He nodded, donning a set of armor to match hers. They took stances at opposite sides of the arena. She already had a bow in hand, arrow cocked and ready. Techno had dueled one on one many times. Some more stress-inducing than other. The anticipation of this fight made his fingers tingle with excitement. A bell began to toll. Standard practice for training duels: on the fourth chime, the fight began.

An arrow whizzed from its string, narrowly missing him as he strafed right and began moving in a wide curve towards her. She switched to her sword, ready to meet his in a clang of metal against metal.

They traded blows almost evenly. While Techno’s sword swung with immense strength behind it, hers was agile and precise. When she landed a hit, it was because she could aim her sword exactly where the armor was weakest. When their swords became interlocked, she made eye contact and grinned wildly. His concentration fell, and she seized the opportunity to disengage and put some distance between them.

From her newfound position, she returned to her bow and began firing shots with a deadly accuracy. When fighting with others around his skill level, Techno liked to wear them down. Hiding and running away, giving him a chance to recover while they chased. Now, however, his strategy was being challenged. Her skill with a bow was outstanding, even at very long distances. There were very few places he could hide that she couldn’t hit.

Their reached a point where the battle was at a stalemate. They had returned to sword combat, a heavy sheen on sweat on their brows. She parried a blow from him, but he pushed back with any remaining strength he had left, sending her staggering back wards. She gritted her teeth, running forwards suddenly with a ferocious scream. It surprised him so much he barely reacted as she slammed into him right at the waist and tackled him to the ground.

He twisted to land on his side, causing her to fall on the ground next to him. They both panted, making no move to stand up.

“I-“, she gasped, “I’ve never done that before.” He huffed out a laugh, propping himself up on his elbows and offering a hand to help her sit up as well.

“That was a good fight”, he said after they’d both caught their breath.

“Thank you”, she said, removing her helmet and wiping away the strands of hair that stuck to her face, “I didn’t expect to win, but a draw is good enough for me… Thank you for giving me the chance.”

“You fight very different from me”, he said while shaking the hair out of his face, “I was curious to see how it would go. You’ll have to show me some of those sword techniques, they’re great.”

She smiled, puffing up a little bit at the praise. Her hand came up to brush away some of the dust that stuck to the side of his face. She seemed to do it subconsciously, because her eyes widened at the realization and she moved her hand away quickly. In a heat of the moment decision he grabbed her hand in midair, holding it in his own. Her eyes met his and the seconds seemed to stretch.

Something drew him, like a magnetic force, to lean in and press a kiss to her lips. It was relatively quick, but it felt so much longer to him. When he pulled away, she blinked at him. Her cheeks were pink, but he was unsure whether it was from the kiss or the fighting.

“I should have asked first, shouldn’t I?”, he said after clearing his throat.

“No, no”, she replied, still slightly dazed, “you’re fine.”

“I don’t know why-“, he stuttered, “I doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to, we can just forget it happened.”

“I-“, she paused, “… I think I’d like to remember it actually.”

The grip on his hand tightened, and Techno felt butterflies in his chest.

“I think my mind’s going a little foggy”, she continued, “could you remind me?”

It took far longer than it should have for his brain to process her words. When the gears finally clicked, a dry laugh escaped his lips.

“Are you flirting with me, dear?”, he retorted.

She laughed, a joyous and melodic sound. He cut her off before she could finish, causing her to giggle against his lips. Sitting in the middle of an empty battle arena, various weapons strewn around them, they allowed themselves to share in each other’s presence and be happy.

───※ ·❆· ※───

AHAHHAHAHA i just wanna say thank you again for this request because it ended up being such a joy to write. it was so fun to write the reader with this kind of personality

plus, it gave me an excuse to give this story a medieval fantasy aesthetic, which, in my humble opinion, is the superior aesthetic for techno

i can’t stress this enough, thank you to every anon who’s submitted a request for being patient with me! i’m trying to get through them chronologically while still giving myself enough of a break that i won’t get overwhelmed or burnt out. regardless of any wait, i hope you enjoyed!

thank you for reading <3

-moonlight

[jennycalendar]

Oh your “Jenny being alive would make Giles WORSE in season 6” sounds Fascinating please expand!! (If you would like)

took me a hot minute but thank you VERY kindly for enabling me <3

so as y'all know, the point i always hammer home on dreadfulcalendarwoman dot tumblr dot com is that giles's character arc starts and ends with jenny. like she is the turning point for him in EVERY way wrt the way he chooses to interact with the world, despite her never being top priority in his life. i actually think it is so deeply interesting that buffy's unwavering love for giles is not enough to pull him out of his determined isolation, simply because she is The Slayer and she's Fated To Die and while she's come to terms on some level with her death, giles doesn't ever completely seem able to come to terms with the concept of losing her. so it's actually not gonna ever be buffy who can spur giles towards growth, partly because of that and partly because of the fact that she cuts him SOOOOO much slack. like that's her dad! she wants him to take care of her! she will forgive SO much of him.

jenny does not do that with giles. jenny draws lines and sticks to them to the best of her abilities and we have seen in canon how badly giles deals with those lines -- like in ted, where she essentially says "you being around me is bad for my recovery right now" and he behaves like she killed his dog or something. but the thing is that he still does register and respect that she's got boundaries, and he does try in his own way (hindered as he is by what some might call an unhealthy obsession with jenny) to adhere to the rules she sets down. there is also a very clear problem here in that jenny is super fucking inconsistent and what she allows giles is completely changeable and arbitrary up until the dark age -- like she is deliberately yanking him around because she wants to see how complete her control over him is, and still doesn't totally believe that it's absolute. and then of course GILES thinks that jenny KNOWS she has absolute control over him and is deliberately USING it, which i think definitely contributes to the resentment and anger of the angelus mess. but that's just canon.

ANYWAY i wanted to talk about that because i think it sets the stage REALLY NICELY for giles and jenny's dynamic in a canon where she lives! jenny represents this sense of normalcy and stability in giles's life -- in a lot of ways, his obsession with her is centered around this idea of her as his future wife and long-term life partner, which is something he never thought he would get to have or even WANT to have with anybody. canonically, in season three, the loss of jenny causes giles to double down real hard in his role as a watcher -- reflected in his suddenly incredibly rigid and starchy wardrobe, but also in the way he's no longer pursuing connections outside the scooby gang at all. losing jenny in canon makes it clear to him that he has nothing but being a watcher, and that he will fail at that as well if he allows himself to love someone the way he loved her (see: acathla). and loving jenny brought giles such profound joy that i don't think he ever wants to really handle the concept of never having that again, so of course he throws himself into watcher stuff instead of confronting that.

but in a canon where jenny lives (even in a canon where they spend the third season continuing to be a fucked up mess, which i think is realistic -- it's gonna take time for them to build something healthy after all the we-are-never-ever-getting-back-togethers of season two), giles no longer has that reason to double down as a watcher! instead he has this enduring and consistent possibility that he is allowed to love somebody without it blowing up in his face, and i think that that would genuinely help him so much. he wouldn't need to adhere so rigidly to Watchery Standards, he wouldn't WANT to do the cruciamentum if it ran the risk of hurting buffy -- he would start letting go of this pessimistic, cynical view of the world and the fact that buffy's doomed to die, and work instead on cultivating a home and a surrogate family with jenny. like at his core giles is a homemaker and he longs for community and family and a sense of belonging, just like the rest of the scoobies! he canonically likes being cast as the patriarch but labels himself as an "uncle" because it still gives him an out. i don't think he'd want to wriggle out of familial attachment if this was a world where he never had to experience losing jenny.

THING IS THOUGH, this is still a world where he loses BUFFY. and while canon giles cultivated this very deliberate distance between himself and buffy in an attempt to prepare for the eventuality of her death, this version of giles is one who has started to genuinely view buffy as a daughter and support her in that way as well. there's no emotional distance that he can fall back on to support himself through his grief. he has lost his daughter. in so many ways that is worlds worse than losing jenny before he ever got the chance to really love her, and i think it would have the potential to wreck him on a level that rivals canon.

so season six giles would be handling his grief in the same way that canon giles did -- he's throwing himself into a role that distances himself from the trauma of losing somebody he loves. this time he is ACTIVELY trying to distance himself from buffy -- not "for her own good," but because he just refuses to handle his grief, and even her coming back wouldn't shake his sudden understanding of the fact that she could die just as horribly and permanently again. and so in THIS version of season six he is very aggressively defining himself as Jenny's Husband and trying to push jenny towards having their own biological children and absolutely ignoring the fact that because of his insistent refusal to acknowledge his loss, his marriage is falling apart. he no longer wants to view himself as a watcher or as connected to buffy in any way, because he never ever wants to lose her like that again. that's his daughter. he cannot love her anymore because losing her destroyed him and he can't go through it a second time.

and jenny is just having A Time because she is a smart cookie! she sees why this is happening and she wants to be able to help giles through it! but she literally can't help giles when he is refusing to admit that there's even a problem. and poor buffy who is still dealing with the trauma of being ripped out of heaven also has to deal with and in some ways cater to giles, whose grief prevents him from being there for her in the way that she was genuinely expecting from him. like i think this is a canon where buffy and giles's relationship could have been at the place for her to tell him the truth, but then she comes back and he is a fucking mess and she does the whole depressed repression thing and tries to take care of him. Which Does Not Go Over Well With Jenny.

i'm not sure how this gets solved. i actually wrote a chapter of this a billion years ago wherein jenny and buffy and spike and dawn start forming this weird and incredibly sad family unit after giles leaves for england, and jenny and buffy kinda mutually struggle with this idea of a mother/daughter relationship after years of weirdness between them. i think that the onus would really be on giles to pull himself out of it, because he would have effectively burned his bridges with his wife HARDCORE by that point -- but it would still be a version of giles who had three more years of emotional stability than in canon. there's always a chance.

[elerondo]

Headcanon | Rivendell and Celebrian

This headcanon is set in the timeline from S.A. 1697 to T.A. 2501, so it’s going to be very long. It is my attempt at the fullest account of Elrond’s priorities in that timeline, and his life and marriage to Celebrian. And the After.

PRELUDE After the initial crush that Elrond had on Celebrian, Elrond did wait more than 1700 years before proposing to her. Elrond did not want to subject her to a life of war and hardship with him when they’d only just met. Elrond loved Celebrian enough to let her go home to safety and a more peaceful life. But Elrond loved Middle Earth more, that he would sacrifice his personal happiness in order to protect and save the free peoples.

The dire costs of the War of the Elves and Sauron were echoes of the War of Wrath, where Elrond had seen the wrath of the dragons as a youth and the trumpets that eventually marred and sunk Beleriand. He was determined not to let Eriador reach that stage of destruction, and since few of the strangers in the Valley were well enough to engage in battle, Elrond was frequently at the helm of offensive measures against the forces of Sauron that sought to besiege Rivendell.

POST WAR OF THE ELVES AND SAURON When Rivendell was founded, it was basically filled with refugees and soldiers gravely wounded from the destruction of Eregion and Sauron’s conquest of Eriador. Simply put, Rivendell was functional at best, and a stinky shit hole of armour and blood at its worst. A stronghold with severely weakened military power. There was no Ring of Power to protect it yet, so Elrond took it upon himself to ride out and meet evil before it could come near. Frequently, he rode from the northern foothills of the Hithaeglir, to the south bordering the outskirts of Eregion, then east across the valley to the ford of Bruinen, and even further still to penetrate the forests to the west.

Even though Elrond wanted to beautify Rivendell with other areas like education, hospitality, music, etc, it remained clear to Elrond that his immediate and most urgent priorities had to be taking vanguard in most marches as his elves and men were recovering, returning home, or sailing West.

After Vilya was handed to Elrond and he was made Lord and Master of Rivendell, Elrond was at the peak of his power and strength. Loyal and following the passions of a war won, the coverage of Vilya stretched from the Men-i-Naugrim to the Coldfells to the Last Bridge to the meet of Mitheithel and Bruinen. It matched his initial marches, patrols, and more. Elrond purified the forests and straightened the roads, dealing death to the last of the fell beings out of the Coldfells, the East Road, and the Old Forest Road. Strongholds were built upon the Misty Mountains and the borders of Eregion to keep watch on the southern and eastern passages. Where the Ring could reach, there Elrond’s spirit was, working its inner machinations to keep it safe.

FALL OF NUMENOR Elrond took his marches very far south to keep the borders and to exercise his Crown rights. He tripled the patrols around southern Eriador. If there were any stray survivors, they must be verified clean and without evil before they could travel. Otherwise, they were caught and handed to the nearest City willing to let them stand trial. When the presence of the Crown Prince of the Noldor increased near the borders of Gondor, there were quite many mixed reactions. A certain pressure to observe decorum, for example, to stop everything one was doing to answer questions, possessions checked thoroughly, and weapons that were deemed stolen or machines of darkness were confiscated until further notice. As long as one saw the banners of Gil-galad, even from a distance, they were compelled to stop and obey.

MARRIAGE TO CELEBRIAN Elrond is not a free and easy leader. He is a leader who actively chooses to sacrifice his happiness, his reputation, rest / sleep / food, for the sake of protecting and aiding the people at large. Elrond’s version of taking care of himself was stretched until his limits threatened to break, then rest for a while. It was the equivalent of sleeping once a week.

I think that Celebrian would have heard a lot about Elrond and what he was doing, Elrond’s fame and infamy spreading far and wide over the Misty Mountains. On the other side of the land, Elrond knew his deeds and renown were preceding him. He had some fears that he wouldn’t be well liked, because who could understand the land’s emergencies as well as him? He didn’t think anyone could, not because he was arrogant or wanted to do everything himself, but he was the most endowed.

Celebrian would be the only person Elrond could be weak to without being judged, rejected, or told to change or stop what he was doing. With her, Elrond was that bit more comfortable in taking / asking for comforts, and sharing his griefs, resentment, the nasty stuff and not just his plans, counsel, the good stuff that was always dispensed to all without cost. Celebrian was the shoulder Elrond cried on, while he was the shoulder for the world. Celebrian was the person whom Elrond revealed all of his quirks and eccentricity to. It was Celebrian who really made Rivendell into a Homely House. Celebrian was the one who helped him fulfil his visions and execute the blueprints of his mind while he properly focused on keeping Eriador and Rivendell safe. With her in mind, Elrond took more care of himself because he did not want her to be worried about him. Elrond was the healthiest in the 1000+ years before the Angmar War.

ANGMAR RISING The split and existence of Rhudaur in T.A. 861 unsettled him and so Elrond frequently visited Arthedain in secret, debating upon many topics of potential insurrection and defense strategies. The chief of the matter were these: Both Rhudaur and Cardolan desired to possess Amon Sul, and Rhudaur resisted Argeleb who claimed to be High King over all of Arnor. Elrond was sensitive to the matters of kingship and the Palantir. For the lands of Men and the Palantiri to come under one king was better than for them to split into the hands of the wrong people. Celebrian understood that for Elrond to ally Rivendell with Arthedain, hostilities with the rest would be inevitable.

( my Angmar war timeline here where Elrond suffered a Morgul-wound at the end of )

THE WATCHFUL PEACE … is a deceitful name. It was more watchful than it was peaceful.

Rivendell spent the early years recovering from the 600 year war, especially Elrond - being the first of all elves to suffer a Morgul-wound, a large scar on his back with no recovery method yet. Elrond had to devise and experiment on himself, while he was suffering from it, before he managed to heal himself. However, the military never again rises up to any relevant standard in a war. A lot of commanders were lost, Elrond was weak and sick, and many elves succumbed to their injuries, grief, and they faded or sailed West.

Every year for the rest of Elrond’s life in Middle Earth, on the same week, the Morgul-wound brought Elrond searing and debilitating pain. He still could hold the power of Vilya over The Angle and the Misty Mountains, but the western forests and Coldfells were neglected.

Rivendell never ceases to send patrols across Eriador, despite Elrond being in an extremely bad shape and the vale was desperately short handed. Elrond depended on Vilya more, both to heal and to protect, as he would leave Rivendell defenseless except for the Kingsguard, while he sent aid and resources everywhere else. Celebrian was beside him every step of the way, going into a Post-war scenario in a huge piece of land called Eriador again. They really could not enjoy the quieter times at all.

Furthermore, before the Watchful Peace ended, evil again invaded Eriador. It was followed by Galadriel’s summons of the White Council.

CELEBRIAN ASSAILED, DEPARTURE TO THE WEST 46 years later, tragedy ended the marriage of Celebrian and Elrond. He would be officially widowed with her passing over the Great Sea. The greatest healer who ever lived could not save his greatest love.

He let her go when she made her choice to go. He did not force to stay her, it would be too cruel to her. Elrond chose to do what was right instead of what was kinder to himself. When she left, she tore half his heart and flesh along with it.

This trauma is one that Elrond carries with him. The darkening of the times did work to twist his sacrifice into guilt, into thoughts of ❛What if❜ he was stronger, more powerful, better, or enough. Because of how obvious it was that Celebrian’s assault was premeditated by Sauron to weaken Rivendell, Elrond would always blame himself for bringing her into his life. Perhaps he should have just continued hiding his love. Perhaps she would have been safe. Perhaps.

In Elrond’s lowest moments, he could not understand what was so good about Valinor. He could not reconcile Celebrian’s choice of Aman over him and their 3 children together. For all his wars and battles in Middle Earth, no army ever came from the West to aid the people. He has no good perception of Aman. Over time, Celebrian’s departure joined one of many gravestones that Elrond had to force himself to move forward from. It was the only way, force himself not to dwell on it, bury himself in work, in the forge, in planning. For his children, for all the people who depended on him, for the sake of unseating Sauron, Elrond had to move forward even if it was by crawling through the mud.

His love for her did dull, did become mixed with depression, and he feared to see her again if he sailed to Aman. Elrond fears that Aman might actually be better for Celebrian than him. The dilemma? Wanting Celebrian to be happy and healthy, but wanting it to be him for her and no one else. Elrond knew the solution to that, and the answer was: Not him. It is a fact that is so hard to swallow at times, that he has to leave the love of his life in someone else’s hands.

[gameofdrarry]

Wizards Hearts Recs: Healer!Draco

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 The Four Doors by fluxweed Rated:  Explicit Words:  48845 Tags: Mind Healer Draco Malfoy, Legilimency (Harry Potter), Memory Loss, Memory Magic, Sexual Fantasy, Masturbation, Power Imbalance, Auror Harry Potter, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Dubious Consent Due To Patient/Healer Dynamic, Mind Fucking (Literally), Not Epilogue Compliant, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE Summary:  It’s been four months since Harry lost his memory. Four months of dead ends and no answers. With time running out until his memories are gone for good, Harry agrees to a course of Legilimency therapy with a renowned specialist: Mind Healer Draco Malfoy. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Where The Falcons Fly by MyNameIsThunder Rated:  Mature Words:  283177 Tags: Healer Draco Malfoy, Seeker Harry Potter, Quidditch, accidental magic, Blood and Injury, Not Epilogue Compliant, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Post-Hogwarts, Scars, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Whump, POV Third Person Limited, Mutual Pining, Power Couple, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Eventual Fluff Summary:  Where the Falcons fly, there’s blood. Where Draco goes, there usually is too. That’s his job, after all – heal morons and the people who get in their way. He could deal with that, he thinks, if only there wasn’t Harry fucking Potter, Seeker, who gets injured a lot even by the Falcons’ standards and seems to have made a habit of inserting himself in Draco’s private life. Draco just wants to heal people – normal people, that is – and do his research in peace. Well, when does he ever get what he wants? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A Better Kind of Love by MalenkayaCherepakha Rated:  Explicit Words:  25768 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Quidditch Player Harry Potter, Healer Draco Malfoy, St Mungo's Hospital, Hospitals, discussion of injuries, Broken Bones, Injury Recovery, Skele-Gro, Physical Therapy, Nightmares, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Quidditch, Masturbation, Rimming, Shower Sex, Locker Room Sex, Semi-Public Sex, H/D Erised 2020 Summary:  Harry, along with the rest of the Puddlemere United team, is determined that this year will be the year they finally win the Quidditch League Cup. But when a Bludger-induced fall leads to a missed Snitch, broken bones, and an extended stay in St Mungo's, that conviction is put to the test. If Harry wants to have any chance of returning to the pitch this season he has to put all of his faith in his assigned Healer. Which is no easy task when that Healer is Draco Malfoy. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Meet Cute by rewmariewrites Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  4203 Tags: Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, St Mungo's Hospital, Hospitals, Healer Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, POV Draco Malfoy, Pining Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry is a Little Shit, Banter Summary:  It may be important to note that Draco Malfoy meets the love of his life when he is twenty-five years old. Well. In the spirit of fairness, that statement is both technically inaccurate and incredibly vague. Draco isn’t just twenty-five years old, when he meets the love of his life, he’s also in his fourth year of the Healing Programme at St. Mungo’s, and this isn't actually the first time they've ever met. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Don't Waste Your Eyes on Jealous Guys by EvAEleanor Rated:  Mature Words:  9667 Tags: MACUSA | Magical Congress of the United States of America, Auror Harry Potter, Healer Draco Malfoy, Roadtrips, Music, Implied Sexual Content, on the bonnet of a car, Pining, jealous boyfriend, mentions of Abusive Relationship (emotionally and verbally), First Kiss, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Hopeful Ending, Choose Your Own Ending, Touch, hearing, TasteofSmut 2020, First Time, Bittersweet Ending Summary:  For two years now, Harry’s life has been different. Not only does he work in New York City as the Auror liaison to MACUSA on an international murder case, but he’s seen more of Draco Malfoy than he’d ever thought possible. Working with him, and spending time with him after work. During all of this time, Harry has watched Draco going back to his shitty boyfriend over and over again. The worst thing about all of this, he’d fallen in love with him. Maybe there’s hope for Harry though. Maybe for just one night... ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 All is NOT well... by iStiz Rated:  Mature Words:  65500 Tags: HP: EWE, Not Epilogue Compliant, Slow Build, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship, Healer Draco Malfoy, Quidditch, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Physical Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Depression, Substance Abuse, Rehabilitation, Cuddling & Snuggling, Mild Sexual Content, vague sexual content, Happy Ending Summary:  The war may be over but all is NOT well. Harry feels lost, the Ministry is still trying to control him, his friendships with Ron is rocky at best, he doesn't sleep enough, and then there's Draco Malfoy. Things haven't turned out quite the way Harry expected them to, but at least he still has Hermione to help him (and maybe some new friends if he can trust letting them into his life). ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Harry Potter and the elusive day off by pleasebekidding Rated:  Explicit Words:  71753 Tags: Sleep disorders, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, in all honesty this has a bunch of pain, problematic therapist/patient stuff, mind healer!draco, auror!Harry, no seriously the therapist/patient stuff is super problematic but welcome to fanfic, Child Abuse Summary:  Auror Potter needs a fucking break. He is wiped. He is exhausted. He probably didn't intend to put himself into a magical coma but these things happen. And who cares, really? He is comfortable in a house where he has hidden away all the shit he can't deal with. Guaritore Christopher Black is an exceptional psychiatrist with a specialisation in sleep disorders. He is also Draco Malfoy in a Glamour. Minister Hermione Granger knows the dangers and the complications, but she needs her best friend back. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 oxygen by MaesterChill Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  4065 Tags: Healer Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Post-Hogwarts, Smoking, Cigarettes, Talking, Breathing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Minor Character Death, A Kiss, Fanart, POV Second Person Summary:  Draco doesn’t smoke. Except when he needs to breathe. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Indebtedness by RecIt_Ralph Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  50685 Tags: HP: EWE, Healer Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Slow Build, Fluff and Angst, forgiving Harry, Chaptered, My First Fanfic, Swearing, Snark, Eventual Happy Ending, Second Chances, Getting to Know Each Other Summary:  Of all the Healers in all of St Mungo's - why does Harry always end up with Malfoy? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Best Laid Plans by CreateImagineWrite Rated:  Explicit Words:  10105 Tags: Marriage Proposal, Lust Potion/Spell, Secret Relationship, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Barebacking Summary:  He hadn’t intended to be fully clothed with Harry naked at this point, or to have just made him take an antidote to a poison or have had to Incarcerus him to the bed. But they’ve never had a very normal relationship anyways. And damn him if he’s going to let Ginevra Weasley get in the way of him marrying this man. Fourshot. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Iustitia & Prudentia by skeptique Rated:  Explicit Words:  36302 Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Auror Harry Potter, Healer Draco Malfoy, Bisexual Harry Potter, Gay Draco Malfoy, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Mental Health Issues, Everyone is going to Therapy, Taking their Meds, Calling Their Person, Slow Burn, Procedural That's Fairly Light on the Procedural Part, Canon Content Warnings Apply, brief discussion of infertility, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Discussion of Ongoing Food Related Issues, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Canon Typical Violence, Kidnapping, Confinement, Pansexual Theo Nott, Case Fic, Mystery, Draco Malfoy in Glasses, Minor Character Death Summary:  Draco Malfoy’s entire life fell apart after the War. He’s putting it back together as best he can with what is available to him. But Harry keeps interfering and won’t leave him alone. When he agrees to be an Auror consultant to help Harry, is it more than he bargained for? The world shifted under Harry Potter’s feet and he found himself lost and purposeless. He anchors himself in uncovering the truth about a dangerous pureblood terrorist group. Is Draco the key to solving these crimes, or is he a distraction? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 To Do No Harm by Lokifan Rated:  Explciit Words:  58114 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, HP: EWE, Quidditch, Getting Together, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, Recovering From The War And Becoming Better People, Quidditch Player Harry Potter, Healer Draco Malfoy, Community: hd_erised, Break Up Summary:  Draco hadn’t planned to end up as team Healer for the Chudley Cannons, but it’s a Healer job, so he’ll take it - and then Potter shows up, the glorious centre-of-attention Seeker, as ever. And someone with a grudge is sabotaging Quidditch teams, and it’s only a matter of time before the Aurors’ eyes turn to Draco. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 To Prove We're Not in a Rut by gracerene Rated:  Explicit Words:  2140 Tags: Established Relationship, Post-Hogwarts, Healer Draco, POV Harry Potter, Bottom Harry, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Wall Sex, well it's actually against a door, Top Draco, Bottom Harry Potter, Top Draco Malfoy Summary:  Draco and Harry are not in a rut. Draco sets out to prove it. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Tell Me the End at the Beginning by harryromper Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  36591 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, St Mungo's Hospital, Healer Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Hermione Granger, Christmas, Christmas Tree, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Christmas Presents, Christmas Decorations, 25 Days of Harry and Draco, Food Hall Turkeys, Advent Calendar, Healer Luna Lovegood, Kreacher, Minor Neville Longbottom/Ginny Weasley, Yule Logs, Misheard Christmas carols Summary:  St Mungo’s is the last place anyone wants to spend the festive season. Harry finds himself there anyway. Or: Harry's an Auror suspended from duty, Malfoy's wearing the hell out of three-piece suits, Hermione is entirely over everything, and Kreacher just wants to be left alone to decorate for Christmas. ❤️ Read on AO3

[alice-angel12x]

Vil ending

Vil passed back and forth in front of Y/n's room, as he waited for the doctor to finish his autopsy, but when the doctor and Y/n's family emerged. Y/n's mother was in tears as her husband held her close with a sorrowful expression.

"Doctor, Is Y/n alright?" Vil asked quietly.

The Doctor looked over his shoulder and lead Vil to the other side of the waiting room."Y/n will make a complete recovery, but," The doctor paused," His wings had to be removed, they were badly infected and it left alone, Y/n would never heal."

Vil's heart dropped." Y/n's going to have a rough time coping with the changes," The Doctor frowned slightly.

"what do you mean?" Vil asked nervesly.

"Siren's take great pride in their wings and Iive for flight. So one can imagine the misery of living, but being unable to do what you were born to do," The Doctor explained.

"May I see them?" Vil asked quickly.

"Go right ahead, but be careful about the wing topic. For a siren, they are taking this situation very well," The Doctor whispered," They could just be putting up a front."

Vil nodded as he slowly approached the door, but hesitated as a powerful wave of guilt washed over him. Would Y/n even want to see him after what he did to them? Vil took a deep breath and slowly entered the room. Inside sat Y/n, who seemed to just be sitting and staring at the wall in front of them.

"H-hello, Schoenheit," Y/n stuttered.

"Hello Y/n, I'm glad you're getting better," Vil greeted slowly as he sat near the end of Y/n's bed.

"Y-yeah," Y/n nodded as they felt off, not feeling quite the same without the weight of their wings on their back.

As Vil sat next to Y/n, he could see the sad and empty stare in their eyes, and how pale they had become. An almost hollow and sad husk of the kind and bright Y/n he loved so much. The more Vil stared the more his heart twisted and noted with sorrow.

"I've come to apologize for what I had down to you. You shouldn't have seen such an ugly side of me, I shouldn't have let my jealousy dictate my action," Vil apologized.

"jealousy?" Y/n asked.

"For someone so observant your so oblivious," Vil scoffed," of Neige, of course. I could never beat him in anything, everyone favors him and sweep me aside. Even when we were young, I have been swept aside by the role of villain, while Neige got to be the hero and shined for all to see. Except you, you were my first fan, and the thought of you falling for him... Was frustrating."

" Why would I fall in love with Neige?" Y/n asked with a confused look.

" Isn't it obvious?! He also has feelings for you," Vil sighed in frustration, while Y/n look really surprised.

"How can you be this oblivious," Vil sighed.

"Well, Neige is kind to everyone, so I only ever saw him in a platonic light. Besides, I couldn't really see him like that. Though I will always be grateful for what Neige and his family did for my home and family," Y/n smiled," If it wasn't for their big charity to my home country, I wouldn't have the means to even come to this school."

"Y/n. What am I to you? And I want your honest and true thoughts," Vil said sternly.

"Well, I don't know. I look up to Vil, as a muse, and role model, I worry I'm simply mistaken love for admiration. Plus You have very high standards for a person to be worthy of you, so I'm quite sure I wouldn't make such a standard, especially now with my wings- '

Suddenly Y/n felt themselves being pulled forward quickly by their collar and felt a pair of lips meet theirs. They slowly realized that  Vil had just pulled them into a very passionate kiss.

"Stop saying such terrible things. if you really do trust my words, then I do think you are more than worthy to stand by my side. With or without your wings," Vil whispered in Y/n's ear. ___

[anime-academix]

Natural Hair

A/N: Ah, here’s my first scenario! This was actually a lot longer than I thought it would be...but you know, it is what it is. I’m still relatively new to writing these so I hope you all enjoy these and I will be doing my best! This scenario was kind of personal...and to all my black girls out there who have gone through this, please know that our hair is beautiful; no matter what anyone says, we are beautiful and unique! Anywho, enjoy this scenario! (DON’T FORGET TO MESSAGE ME IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS, I WILL TRY MY BEST TO GET TO THEM AS SOON AS I CAN ❤️)

Bakugo:

Though you loved wearing your protective hairstyles, you were insecure about your natural hair. However, growing up in Japan, you were all too familiar with the beauty standards in the country, especially when it came to hair. It was always difficult to find hair products to match your hair texture--that in which you almost always had to order them from international stores-- not to mention the random strangers who were always touching your hair, and some students would poking fun at it.

To Bakugo, he had no idea you were insecure about your hair, because it was something you never brought up. Truth be told, the boy loved your hair. He always found it fascinating to watch you do your hair in the dorm on weekend nights. Even everytime you came to school with a new hairstyle, Bakugo would always find a way to compliment your hair, always adding that you were beautiful.

It was very rare that you wore your natural afro to school, but today, you wanted to try something different.

You poofed up your afro a few more times before adjusting your uniform. A small smile appeared on your lips, impressed with your hair’s ability to cooperate this morning. The last time you had worn your afro natural was this past summer when your grandparents came to visit, but then it was only for the weekend.

A loud knock could be heard at your door.

“Hey, hurry your ass up! Just ‘cause we live on campus doesn’t mean we can take our time to get to class,” Bakugo said on the other side of your door. You rolled your eyes and grabbed your backpack, putting your arms through the loops. Walking over to the door, you paused and felt your cheeks heat up. This would be the first time he would be seeing you wear your natural hair to school.

What if he hated it? Or thought it was goofy looking? You thought to yourself before pausing and shaking your head. You turned the knob to your door, pulling it open to reveal your spiky haired boyfriend. He was leaning against the door frame when you opened the door.

His eyes widen at your sudden change of appearance. “Holy shit,” he breathed out. It caught you off guard and you felt your face heat up even more. “It’s something different, I just wanted to try this style...oh god, do you not like it?” You began ranting, before you could finish he tsked.

“Hey, don't speak for me,” he growled, lifting himself from off the door frame. “You look beautiful. I always love seeing the many things you can do with your hair,” Bakugo told you, snaking his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

Call it cheesy or whatever, but you couldn't help the flood of butterflies that invaded your stomach at his sweet words. “Suki...” you said softly, looking at him.

“But if you tell anybody I told you that, I’ll kill you,” he defended, removing his arm from around your waist and fitting his hand in yours as you both head off to class.

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

By the time you got into your homeroom class, all of Class 1A was gawking in awe at your hair. Your other classmates were practically toppling over each other to get a closer look at your hair, some even asking if they could touch your afro. 

“Girl, your hair has so much volume! Did you try that new curl cream? See, I told you, you gotta get rid of that Cantu stuff and your hair will thank you!” Mina squeaked. Bakugo looked at you then at Mina with an obvious look of confusion written on her face. 

“It looks so soft!” Ochaco commented.

“It’s so pretty! How long does it take for you to get that style?” Momo questioned, placing her hands on her hips. Others nodding in agreement with Momo’s question.

You smiled at your classmates, blinking at the sudden bombardment of comments and questions. 

Bakugo scoffed and leaned against your chair. “Alright. Back up you damn nerds,” He muttered, shooing them away. Bakugo began heading back to his seat, sneaking in a wink which made you blush. 

There was an unanimous “awe” as they all began to disperse. All except for one. Mineta. 

“Why are you all so obsessed with her hair? I mean come on, it just looks...what the word...oh! Nappy...” Mineta announced, which caused you to stiffen. Everyone paused and exchanged uncomfortable glances at each other. “I’m serious, guys! It looks so distracting and messy.” 

“Dude, stop it,” Kaminari interjected.

He stepped closer to you and pressed his hand into your hair, grabbing a handful of curls. “But hey, it’s okay. Your hair may be ugly, but at least it doesn't distract me from your nice rack,” he added, smirking. 

Before anyone could even respond, there was a low rumble filling the room. The students all stiffened, and turned their attention to the source of the noise. It was none other than your boyfriend. He had gotten up from his seat, walking towards your desk, setting off small explosions in his hands. His face was painted with a never before seen look of anger, rage pooling his eyes. It was enough to send goosebumps down your spine.

“You want to fucking say that again, you waste of space?” Bakugo challenged through gritted teeth.

“Hey! You two, we cannot resort to violence! Let’s sit down and talk this out!” Iida offered. Bless his heart for his attempts but it would be rendered useless. The ash-blond spiky haired boy, hated Mineta deeply. He hated the sexual comments he made about you and even suggestive gestures in front of you. There were several times where he’s gotten close to sending Mineta to the emergency room, but you and Mr. Aizawa always came in just in time to put a stop to it. Calming down Bakugo was like trying to stop an already erupting volcano. 

Mineta released his grasp from your hair and begin backing up, fear reeking his whole body. “I...uh...heh...it was...” He stuttered.

“Katsuki...no, leave it alone, it’s fine,” you told him, standing up from your seat.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m not gonna send him to a funeral home...I’d think, it’s been a while since you’ve visited Recovery Girl, HUH?!” He growled, lunging towards him which evoked a loud scream from Mineta.

“Katsuki, no!” You yelled, stepping in front of him quickly. You pressed your hands against his chest and attempted to hold him back. “Please, just leave it alone. Don’t start anything, please...for me?” You said softly, moving your hand to rest on his arm, then eventually down to his hand.

He would be lying if he said that your voice and even touch alone didn’t calm him down. You’re one of the rare individuals in his life who can pull him out of rage fit and even a soon to be crime scene, and this time was no different.

His eyes stared into yours as you watched the rage in his eyes dissipate and his tense body loosen. You offered him a small smile, giving his hands a soft squeeze, receiving a growl in response. He pulled his hand from yours with a huff and went back to his seat.

You turned to Iida who mouthed a relieved ‘Thank You’ then turned your eyes to Mineta who was standing there engulfed in fear and...pee? Oh my...the boy peed himself, you thought in disbelief as you sat back down in your chair.

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

Walking back to the school dorm, your head was full of thoughts. Throughout the school day, you’d be lying if you said what Mineta said didn't bother you. You knew his words out of everyone should matter the least, but you couldn't help but ponder on those words: Nappy, Distracting, Ugly. Ugh, it was like primary school all over again. How could you forget all those days when the other students would make fun of your hair, sticking school supplies in your afro and even grabbing your hair when you asked them to stop. And of course all the boys you had crushes on but they turned you down because they thought your hair was too ugly and weird. 

What if Bakugo actually thought the same thing? That your hair was ugly and messy and he was just trying his best to be nice about it. You thought to yourself.

By the time you reached your dorm room, you had tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You turned the knob, pushing open the door. As soon as the door closed, locking it behind you, you dropped down to your knees, letting the tears fall down your cheeks. Broken sobs left your lips as you doubled over on the ground. 

Truly, you didn’t understand. Why people would waste their time bullying someone because of their differences--and even something they cannot change. You didn’t have straight hair like Tsuyu and Ochaco. You didn’t have luscious hair like Momo and manageable hair is Mina. You hated the fact that you had much thicker hair which took you hours to just wash and detangle. You hated that your hair would shrink when you washed it. Truth be told, you couldn’t help but think that maybe Bakugo hated the fact that he couldn’t run his fingers through your hair when you cuddled late at night. 

You had finally gotten the strength to stand to your feet, tossing your book bag aside and taking off your shoes. You collapsed on your bed, attempting to silence your sobs into your pillow. You had thought you had done a pretty decent job being quiet until you heard a faint knock on your door. Immediately, your breathing hitched. Oh no...who is that? Did they hear me? You thought to yourself. Slowly, you lifted your head from your pillow and turned to the door. As useless as it probably was going to turn out, you decided you try to remain quiet in hopes that whoever knocked would just walk away.

Despite your hopes, the person knocked again. “Y/N...it’s me...will you please let me in.” Instantly, you recognized that voice. It belonged to your boyfriend, Bakugo. Oh no...okay, he couldn't have heard me crying. Shit, what if he did? He’s gonna ask why I’m crying...If I tell him, he’d probably think I’m being stupid and--

“I know you’re in there, Y/N. Just open the damn door! Please...” He added pulling you from your thoughts, knocking again. There was a brief moment of silence and stillness. You heard him let out a sigh.

“Please...did I do something?” he questioned, a slight pang could be heard in his voice. “If I did, I’m sorry...will you please let me in so we can talk.” His fist unraveled as he pressed his palm against the door. Truth be told, Bakugo had no idea what he had done. He tried to think back to the past couple of days to see if there was something he said that caused you to cry. It couldn't have been the usual banter between the two of you because you could tell when it was all just jokes and he knew when not to cross the line. 

Your heart broke hearing his words. It wasn't him, not at all. How were you going to tell him it was because of your hair. He’d laugh at you and think you were being childish. But he didn’t deserve to be shut out. A soft sigh left your lips as you pushed yourself off the bed and headed to the door. You unlocked it and opened it just slightly. He pushed open the door and before you could react, he engulfed you in his arms. You were completely taken by surprise.

Bakugo closed the door behind him with his foot before pulling away, his hands remaining on your shoulders. Concern washed over his face seeing the current state you were in. Your eyes were red, dried tear stains streaked down your puffy face. “Y/N...” He started. “It’s not you, Bakugo,” You choked out, feeling the tears cloud your vision yet again. In a blink of a moment, his face softened as he wiped away a tear that had fallen with his thumb.

“Then why are you crying?” He asked softly. Your eyes shifted down as you remained silent. You couldn’t help but chuckle in your head because it was humorous almost. Bakugo was always so loud and aggressive around other people but it’s moments like these when you got to see this softer side of him. 

He took note of your silence and scowled slightly. “Why aren’t you telling me what’s going on? Did I hurt you?” He paused and dropped his hands immediately. “Do you not trust me, Y/N?” He questioned, not missing the slight crack in his voice.

You shook your head, as your eyes remained glued down to the floor. “No, Katsuki. I do trust you...it’s just...” A sigh left your lips as you hugged yourself. “If you trust me then tell me what’s going on. We promised not to hide things from each other!”

“I can’t...” You whispered. “What?!” He argued back, both of you knowing full well he heard you. “I said I can’t, Katsuki!” You said, raising your voice. His brow furrowed at the use of his full name coming from your mouth. You rarely called him Katsuki. Whenever you did, it would indicate that you were serious. He hated hearing you call him that. Yes, that was his name, but even if he didn’t admit it, it always warmed his heart when you called him pet names, especially Suki. 

“That’s not my name, dammit! And why the hell not?!” Bakugo yelled back. 

“Because it’s stupid! I’m sitting in my room crying because I think my hair is ugly and a fucking mess and I don’t have luscious beautiful hair like all those other girls in this school! I c-can’t...just wake up in the morning, brush my hair and go out looking beautiful! I have to...to...go through fucking hell just to look presentable, every single day, just to be dragged down and treated like shit because my hair texture is different! Do you know how many days I came home and cried to my mom because the kids in my class would bully me because of my hair?! God, I sound so stupid!” By now you were crying your heart out. As your sobs filled the room, you pressed your palms onto your eyes, crying into your hands. 

Bakugo said nothing in response. He had no idea you felt this way about your hair. If anything, he was obsessed with your hair and impressed with the many things you could do with it. He truly believed that your hair added to your beauty. His heart broke seeing your fragile state. In this moment, he didn’t care how he looked, he didn’t waste another second and wrapped his arms around you. Once you felt his embrace, you collapsed your weight into his body and he held onto you, eventually dropping to the floor, holding you close against his chest, pressing a few soft kisses in your hair.

After a while, you finally calmed down, sniffling and playing with the cuff of his sleeve. “You’re such a dumbass, you know?” Bakugo finally said. You were taken by surprise. “Because you convinced yourself that you sound stupid telling me about your problems. How many times have I told you that you can always come to me to talk about what you’re going, no matter how big or small.” He said to you as he continued to rock you in his arms. “And how many times do I have to tell you that you are beautiful. Your hair is beautiful and everyone else’s shitty opinion is stupid and irrelevant. I don’t care that you don’t have stupid straight hair, I love YOUR curls, Y/N. I love that you go to sleep wearing your bonnet at night and that you contribute so much time to take care of your hair and can do all those fancy smiles. I’d take your hair texture over anyone else’s in a heartbeat and I want you to always remember that. You’re no match for those damn extras out there, ya hear?” 

You looked up to meet his eyes which were already on you, nodding softly in response. “Good. And if you ever feel like that again, you better come to me and talk about it. I know you can handle your own, but if any of these damn nerds are making fun of you, you come tell me and I’ll deal with them.” He growled. You stared up at him, smiling. Oh you were so in love with this boy. 

“What?” Bakugo questioned. Your smile turned into a grin before you pressed a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you, Suki,’ you said softly. A faint blush painted his cheeks as he tsked, “Yeah, yeah.” He smirked slightly and took the opportunity to kiss your lips before pulling away.

“I’m still gonna kill that damn grape,” he muttered. “Hey, no no. It’s fine. I’ll deal with him. Plus...you already made him wet himself. This is the third time this month, give him a break, love. If he says something, I’ll handle it.” Bakugo scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Tch. Fine. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop watching his and everyone else’s every move,” He told you.

“Oh, I’m counting on it. But for now, cuddles, please” you pouted, shifting to wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he tightened his grip around you before standing up to his feet and walking the two of you over to your bed. 

[bluebellhairpin]

Their Cravat

Levi Ackerman X Reader

Part One

A/N: *ugly, wet, and hysterical sobbing in the distance* - Nemo

Warnings: Manga Spoilers. Character Death. Angst. 

Summary: Levi realizes you’ve been with him, watching his back for a long time. He also realizes he never return the favor. 

Listening to: ‘All The Debts I Owe’ by Caamp - ‘And I know you'll miss me, I'm barley fifty, and comin' with me are all the debts I owe.’ 

Masterlist  

If there was one thing that Levi wasn’t quite used to losing, it was people. 

He could lose homes, horses, hope, and the heat that swelled in his chest when he saw a familiar face, but friends, family, or faith? Losing those would break him, he could tell. He knew it.

His mother, Furlan and Isabel, his Squad, Erwin. But now he’d lost Hange too, and everything he once had was running thin. Too thin.

Now his oldest and closest friend was you, and he didn’t even know you that well. 

Over his chosen recovery time - barely a week, if only a few days, it all blurred to him - Levi realized he didn’t know you as well as he ought to have. You’d been in the Scouts as long as he had, worked with his old Squad as long as Hange had, and been one of Erwin’s most trusted subordinates. His lack of knowledge of you made him feel something akin to awful. 

Then, waiting and thinking among the hum of the airship, he looked over at you. 

You looked so tired. Aside from the slump in your shoulders and the reddened eyes - things others passed for as your reaction to Hange - Levi noticed the sunkenness in your face, and the hollow look in your eyes. 

You weren’t Humanity’s Strongest. You weren’t gifted with some superhuman ability to go feral with power. You didn’t have a titan form to turn into when things got bad. You were you, simple, human, and eventually you would break.

Levi was worried you already were broken, and that made you more dangerous than anyone else on this ship. 

He remembered back to those days when he was told to rest. You brought him his cravat - pristine white, and smelling like the most clean thing he’d even touched in his entire life. That alone earned you his respect. 

But you stayed, and he understood because you both knew Hange was too busy to do it themself. 

You lurked at the back of the room when the doctors came in, refusing to leave him alone. You learned how to change his bandages, so then no complete strangers would be getting up in his space. You took him to sit at the basin, and snipped away at his hair because it got too long. You lathered foam onto his face, taking the blade across his skin so precisely it took you an hour to do properly. 

You took care of him so well, and before that he only would’ve seen you as another fallen soldier if you’d died. Now that had changed. 

You were all he had left now, and that was why he strapped into the gear despite the warmth in his veins and the chills on his skin. If he weren’t there, you could disappear. You were all he had left now, and he wasn’t going to let that go that easily. 

But this world was cruel. No matter how much you gave, how much good you did, or how much you fought - this world took, and took, and took, and took, until there was nothing left for it to take. 

His life was nicer now than it was back then. 

───────✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰✧.｡:✱───────

Now, despite his great dislike of the mess, he found himself sitting among the grass, it’s blades tickling his bare arms. The sun was shining, and the breeze was warm, and he had never felt more at peace. 

And yet still had never felt more alone. 

In his lap lay his cravat, now more worn than it had been when you gave  back to him it to him all those years ago, and now had a seam running from one side to the other. He shuddered to remember how it got there.

After Hange died, he could tell you needed something, anything, that was good. 

Your act of kindness became his, and with wobbly legs, and shaking hands, he stood from his seat on that airship and went to tie it around your neck. From that moment on and up until the moment you died, no one could admit to seeing you without it on. 

He wasn’t able to take it from you - no, the world was too cruel for that too - instead he plucked it from the sky as it slipped from your neck. 

He supposed, sitting in that summer breeze, that the wind fifteen meters up into the open sky would have been enough to loosen it. 

He wasn’t the nicest man, he knew that. He never did anything to make people want to be around him, and yet as he sifted through memories starting from the same time he met Erwin - you were there too.

You were at the Underground, standing on a rooftop just in his peripheral vision.

You were there after he killed the titan that took Isabel and Furlan, blades out and ready in case anything happened while Erwin talked him down. 

You were there at the first break in the wall at Shiganshina, rescuing more civilians and cadets than you were attacking titans. 

You were there riding right next to Erwin when they went on the mission to capture the Female Titan, keeping those you could out of harm's way.

You were everywhere, looking out for him and everyone else, protecting them so that they could fight even harder than they would’ve otherwise. You protected and cared to people - for everyone, including him - even if you didn’t out rightly show it. You let them give their hearts. And when you needed it - someone to protect you - where was he? 

He took his cravat in his hands, running his thumbs across the fabric and the stitches from where you were cut. The part of you that ought to have been treated with tender touches, and soft grazes was treated with a brutality that brought a sickness to his stomach.  

He couldn’t help but cry, because he was alone, because he didn’t have anyone, because now that the world was a place worth living in none of his friends were there to live in it with him. 

And never in his life had he felt so old. 

In the time leading up to when you died, he made the effort to get closer to you - and closer did you get. 

On the day you died, in the last moment you spent alone together was a touch - a kiss so soft and fleeting that he wanted to chase it. He should have chased it. The foolish thinking that he’d have an after to spend with you meant he didn’t. 

The world was cruel, and that meant that he didn’t get nice things. He didn’t get a family, or friends, or a lover. He didn’t deserve a happily ever after, not by the world's standards. But he was allowed peace.

So as he sat in the grass, warm breeze in his hair, and that white cravat in his hands, he spared a smile as he wiped away his tears. 

As those he did have left came ambling towards him with baskets of food in hand, and laughter on their tongues, he spared a thought for those who weren’t here. 

His old family, old friends, old confidants. 

You. 

He had the remains of a life, he had peace, and he did still have friends - even if they weren’t old men like he was. He would enjoy the life he had now, even if none of the people in his past were there to have it with him.

They were waiting for him, and he knew that they wouldn’t mind waiting a little while longer - just so that one of them could say they lived a long, peaceful, life.