#he doesn’t cover up the closed eye since it still aids in his expressions

[epicfroggz]

On the solution to the gaping black hole in Messmer’s face… (The latter drawing is true to a canon setting, the former might be better for a modern AU setting.)

When he became god, Messmer thought the abyssal hole occupying half of his face might be unseemly or frightening to the people, so he covered it up with a cloth. Although he did not flaunt nor really address his affliction, the principle of “blindsight” became an integral part of the new Order, as spread by the once-exiled prophets whose prophecies of flame came true.

“Turn a blind eye to the circumstances of a person’s birth, and see instead the quality of their character within.”

[luxaofhesperides]

We Are Robins meeting to Signal apprehending Danny ; requested by @zylev-blog!

“Hey, Danny. How are you feeling?”

Danny gives Duke a tired smile, his head falling back against the wall. He’s sitting up today, which is good. It’s definitely an improvement from the many days Danny was unable to do much but lie down and grit his teeth through the pain as Duke checked on the gunshot wound. It’s a good thing Danny’s a meta with a healing factor, or nothing Duke could have done would have saved him.

As it is, the wound was severe enough to keep Danny vulnerable and unable to move on his own without making it worse. Though Duke has looked, he hasn’t had any luck in finding whoever did this to Danny. He hasn’t brought it up to the rest of the We Are Robin gang, but only because Danny only let him help if he kept it between the two of them.

What’s another secret? If it lets him stay close to Danny and make sure he’s healing well, then he’ll keep quiet and carry on the search by himself. He’s got plenty of practice in doing things on his own.

“Busy out there?” Danny asks as Duke sits down next to him, dropping his backpack onto the ground. 

“Yeah, it’s tough with the cops after us, but someone needs to help Gotham and with Batman gone…”

A pained expression crossed Danny’s face. Eyeing him carefully, Duke opened his backpack and pulled out a few protein bars and sports drinks for him. Once Danny takes them and began eating one, Duke takes out the first aid kit, always kept at the bottom of the backpack, and sets it in front of Danny.

The most he can do is offer supplies and company at this stage of Danny’s healing. He gets twitchy and tense when Duke tries to tend to his wound, and seems to have plenty of practice in patching himself up. 

He didn’t answer when Duke commented on it once, so Duke let the matter drop. 

Metas may have legal protection, but that doesn’t stop people from targeting them. Duke has no intention of pushing Danny into remembering unpleasant things while he’s already wounded, hiding out in the upper corner of an abandoned warehouse taken over by a group of homeless people. Most aren’t inside during the day, choosing instead to be out with the rest of the city, which leaves them alone. 

Duke keeps an eye on the ground floor of the warehouse, making sure no one comes in while Danny tends to his wound. When he peeks back, he can see that it’s much smaller than it was the night Duke found him, crawling down an alley with one hand clutching his side, tears slipping down his face. There had been so much blood that Duke was sure he had just stumbled upon someone dying and froze, horrified. 

And then a shout down the road prompted him to move, hauling Danny up and helping him into the warehouse to hide. 

For a normal person, if it didn’t kill them, the wound would still be raw and bleeding, larger than any gunshot wound he’s seen before. But Danny’s wound is closing up quickly, no longer bleeding, the edges a healing pink.

It doesn’t look like it’s going to scar, either. 

“Think it’ll be all healed up by the end of the week?”

Danny glances up, then continues covering it with new bandage, large enough to cover the entire wound. “Hopefully,” he says. “Then I’ll be out of your hair and can figure out a way to get home.”

“Your folks gonna look out for you?”

“Probably. I’m not planning on telling them, though, since they’ll get way too overprotective. The only reason they’re not tearing Gotham apart looking for me is because I came here with my godfather and he told them we’d be gone for two weeks. Can’t believe he tried to kill me on day one…”

“Your godfather tried to kill you?”

“Yeah. Not personally, or anything, but he definitely hired the guy who shot me. Though he also yelled at him for shooting me? Not sure what that’s about, but I never trusted the guy and he didn’t try to help me afterwards when I ran away, so. You know.”

Duke wants to have a conversation with Danny’s godfather. Maybe bring the other Robins along to make sure the message sinks in: Don’t touch Danny.

But Danny, acting so casual about his godfather trying to kill him, would be unhappy about it, and Duke would really rather be able to take care of him than be shut out for trying to take control of the situation.

“Shit, man, that sucks,” he offers, instead of prying for details so he can hunt down his godfather. “You want a hug or something? I can’t really do much else, but if it can make you feel better about all this…”

Danny brightens and shoves the first aid kit away, his shirt (one of Duke’s old ones he offered up to replace the bloodstained one) falling to cover the bandage. “Please. I would love a hug, dude, I don’t remember the last time I felt so lonely.”

Carefully, Duke wraps his arms around Danny, leaning back so Danny could relax fully and not worry about holding himself up. Danny sighs into the hug, going fully limp as he drops his forehead onto Duke’s shoulder.

“Thanks for this. And everything,” Danny says some time later. He doesn’t move to pull away, so Duke stays as he is, watching the weak sunlight slowly move across the warehouse as it spills in from dirty windows. 

“You don’t need to thank me. I mean, I’m a Robin.” He brings up a hand to tap a finger against the R embroidered into his jacket. “It’s what we’re here for.”

.

.

.

It’s been years since he saw Danny. After he was fully healed, Duke helped him get to city limits, watching as he boarded a bus and disappeared down the road, leaving his life just as suddenly as he entered it.

After spending so much time together, quiet hours of stillness just looking out for each other, his life feels emptier without Danny in it. He knew it wouldn’t last, that Danny would go home eventually, but it didn’t make the parting any easier.

Even now, as Signal, taking a break from going on missions with the Outsiders to spend some time with the Bats, his thoughts drift towards Danny, wondering if he’s alright. In his darker moments, he wonders if Danny’s godfather has tried to kill him again, if he’s succeeded. In calmer, happier moments, he remembers Danny’s quiet stories about his family, his town, all his dreams and hopes for the future, remembers the easy company and how Danny didn’t look at him with pity when talked about his parents, just quiet and contemplative. 

Sometimes, he can’t resist the urge to look him up, but there are so many Danny’s out there that he doesn’t know where to start. He never got Danny’s last name or learned when he came from.

It’s not like he can just ask the Bats for help finding a guy he knew for two weeks before he ever joined them. They’re all busy with their own missions, and definitely don’t have time for Duke’s reminiscing. 

“Just caught sight of the truck entering city limits,” Oracle says in his ear. “It’s heading towards the Coventry.”

“On it. Any movement from the mobs?”

“None yet. I expect this to change soon. Red Hood and Black Bat are patrolling nearby if you need backup.”

“Got it. Signal out.”

His comline shuts with a little click, and then he’s grappling over the roof tops, keeping an eye on the roads in search of the truck. He doesn’t have time to think of Danny anymore, not when a shipment of new, experimental weapons is passing through Gotham. Spoiler had heard a few whispers of it and Red Robin helped find more solid details; the mobs are all looking to take the shipment for themselves in an attempt to get the upper hand in the nonstop fight for control of Gotham’s streets. 

It’s passing through during the day, visible and a good move to keep from being ambushed at night, but it’s not enough to stop mobs hoping to take out their competition with new weapons. Duke enters the Coventry just as his comline beeps once and Oracle begins giving him specific directions, along with a brief description of what the truck looks like. 

Apparently, the weapons are being moved in a U-Haul rental truck. That is… certainly a Choice™ to make for moving weapons around the country.

He follows it from the rooftops, but nothing happens. The truck passes through the Coventry without incident and takes a turn that keeps it away from Crime Alley and the Bowery. It gets to the middle of East End then pulls to a stop in the parking lot of a diner. 

Two people get out and stretch, then head in to get something to eat.

It would be the perfect time for someone to break in. Duke pulls the light over himself, manipulating it to make him disappear from sight as he looks down from the edge of the rooftop, tense and prepared for anything.

He almost doesn’t see it at first. It’s just a flicker, a flash of color, a shift in the shadows across the street. But he does see it, even if he can’t find it again, and drops down from the roof, creeping towards the truck.

Duke waits, holding his breath, off to the side of the parking lot. 

A minute passes. And then a figure materializes out of thin air, floating right behind the truck. All Duke can see is white hair and a black body suit; they’re either a meta or an alien, but either way, Duke is ready to take them down.

The figure lifts their hands and a bolt of neon green energy hits the truck, melting the back and leaving a large hole that gives them direct access to the weapons. And then they shoot again, destroying the weapons.

“Phantom!” someone shouts, and the truck driver comes tearing out of the restaurant, a white gun in his hand. His companion follows, her gun also out, and the begin shooting. 

Phantom dodges the blasts, then vanishes from sight. He reappears behind them a moment later, tackling back of them into the side of the truck. 

“No you don’t!” Duke say, rushing forward as he pulls at the shadows around him then sends them racing towards Phantom, restraining them. The driver and his companion collapse onto the ground, groaning weakly, and Duke grits his teeth. “O, send someone to look after the people moving the weapons. Apprehending an attacker now.”

He doesn’t wait to hear a response, tightening the shadow’s grip on Phantom, who struggles fiercely.

“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” he says, pulling Phantom closer to him.

Phantom doesn’t answer. They just scream, the force of it making Duke fall back. His shadows dissipate, and Phantom flies up.

“Get back here!”

Duke gives chase, dropping in and out of shadows, throwing some at Phantom in the hopes of catching him again. But Phantom is fast and it takes all he has to keep up as they cross Gotham.

He thought Phantom was flying around blindly, but the way they move across the roofs and then through the streets are too confident, too focused to be anything other than someone with a destination in mind. But where? Where could they be going? If they’ve been in Gotham, then Duke would have heard of them.

A flying, powerful meta with a multitude of powers? Yeah, he would have known about them.

Phantom flies through a wall and Duke curses, going onto the roof and looking around, waiting to see them fly out. But they don’t and Duke finds a broken skylight to drop in from, landing on the support beams of the warehouse, well above the ground.

He knows the warehouse, he realizes suddenly. It’s the warehouse Danny hid in while he was healing. Duke hasn’t been back in years.

“Just listen to me, please,” a voice says behind him, and Duke tense, spinning around to face Phantom, floating just out of reaching distance. “Those weapons are dangerous. No one should have them, it’s why I had to destroy them. Please, you can’t let them get those weapons out.”

Duke stares. Something about Phantom is familiar. The shape of his face, maybe. His voice. Maybe it’s just because he’s in the warehouse again, with someone pleading for his help.

Maybe it’s all in his mind.

“Danny?”

Phantom flinches, floating back a few inches. “What— How—”

“What happened? Is it your godfather again?”

“My— Duke? Is that you?!”

He definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but Danny’s here. Danny’s here in front of him, needing help, and he doesn’t need the Signal. He needs Duke.

He pulls off his helmet and lifts his bare face to Danny.

“Oh,” Danny breathes. “Well. I guess I should have known you’d be a hero. Can you help me one last time?”

“Yeah, of course Danny. Tell me what you need.”

“Those weapons, they were first made to kill me and others like me. It’s a whole thing I don’t have time to explain. But they’ve been changed to affect humans, all types of people, as well. I can survive a few hits from those weapons, but for most people, it would kill them instantly. I need to destroy all of them and stop any further production before the rest of the world gets a hold of them.”

“That’s why you—”

“They have to be destroyed,” Danny says. “And the people making and selling them need to be stopped. I can’t do it on my own. I’ve tried, but…”

“I’ll help,” Duke says, “I’ll help. This is a big enough problem to bring the Outsiders into it. Or the Bats, but they like to stay in Gotham.”

Danny floats closer, looking painfully relieved. “Really? They’ll be able to put an end to this?”

Duke reaches for him. “Yeah. they can do it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Danny’s feet land on the support beam as his hand meets Duke’s. They balance above the rest of the warehouse, drinking in the sight of each other. Duke rubs his thumb over Danny’s knuckles in soothing circles and watches as the tension begins to fall away from Danny’s shoulders.

“Duke,” he whispers, “I’ve missed you—”

The door below is kicked open, and a gunshot rings out. 

Moving on instinct, Duke tackles Danny, wrapping him up in his arms as they fall off the support beam. They hit the ground hard, rolling a bit, and Duke tucks Danny into his chest, bodily protecting him.

“Narrows!” 

The Red Hood stands over him, menacing, a gun pointed at him. 

“Hood?” He loosens his grip on Danny. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Thought you needed back up. You chased after our guy and lost your helmet, I think I’m right to be a little worried about you. So, who’s this?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, and Duke realizes with a sinking heart that all anyone else sees is an aggressor, a meta who attacked a truck full of weapons, attacked two people, and had to be chased down by the Signal. Jason’s seeing a threat and acting accordingly, putting Duke’s safety first. 

And with his helmet off, identity clear, Danny’s even more dangerous now that he has this knowledge.

“I’m sorry,” Danny whispers to Duke. He doesn’t have time to ask for what? before Danny’s shooting another beam of green energy at Jason then taking off, flying through the roof and out of sight.

“Shit,” Jason mutters, straightening up from where he ducked to avoid being hit, then puts his gun away and kneels next to Duke. “You alright? Why’d you let him go? I thought you had him.”

“I’m fine. He’s not… He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just needed help.”

“Sure. And what are you not telling me?”

“I knew him. He’s a good person, but he’s been in danger for a long time. This was him trying to protect others from what he went through.”

Jason takes off the helmet and stares at him. Then he sighs and reaches a hand down to help Duke to his feet. “Alright,” he says, “Let’s head back to the truck. You have until then to convince me that they’re the problem, and if they are, then I’ll help you blow up more of their weapons.” He claps a hand on Duke’s shoulder, then pulls his helmet back on. “Grab your helmet. We’re wasting daylight, Narrows.”

There’s nothing else he can do, no way to search for Danny when there are other leads to chase, so Duke grapples up to the catwalk where his helmet landed and grabs it.

Just before he puts it on, he sees a flicker of white just outside the window he’s facing. He ducks his head to hide a smile. It’s almost like he’s stepped back in time; Danny’s here in Gotham, needing help and asking for it in the warehouse. 

And though so much has changed in those years, there’s still one thing that Duke will ensure never changes: he’s Danny’s hero. Above Robin, or Signal, or anything else, Duke is Danny’s hero.

This time, he has the power to actually help Danny. He’s going to make sure no one ever hurts Danny again.

“Let’s go,” he says, jumping back down to Jason, helmet on. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

[that-sarcastic-optimist]

Hi! Really like your writing! I liked the one you did for Evolutoin so could you do a one-shot for a medical au if you're still taking requests?

Caroline groans as the buzzing of her pager continues.

She had the entire day to herself, goddammit, and her boss had promised her that he wouldn’t send anyone to get her at her house even if she didn’t answer her pager.

Of course, that’s what he had said the last three times she had taken an off day.

She doesn’t normally take off days, but yesterday had been gruelling, four back-to-back surgeries, not including the two hours of scut she had done to cover for Stefan.

Stefan really needed to stop chasing after Damon after he went on benders so much.

Grumbling, she sets her wine glass on the table and walks over to the door, not bothering to change into something more presentable than the ratty tank top she was wearing and a pair of faded old shorts.

She opens the door and someone crashes into her, his hands at his stomach.

Caroline screeches in surprise, her hands automatically going at the front of her body to shield herself, before she catches sight of her uninvited guest’s face. “Klaus?” she asks dumbly. “What are you doing here?”

“Caroline,” Klaus gasps. “You look ravishing.”

Caroline’s stomach turns when she sees the extent of the wound at his stomach. “What the fuck?” she stammers, gripping him by the shoulders. “What happened?”

“Best not to ask,” he says, setting a hand on the wall steadily, although Caroline can detect the slight tremble which passes through his body. “Caroline, listen—”

“Get on the couch,” Caroline snaps. “What is wrong with you? Why are you standing around talking when you're obviously injured?”

A mollified look crosses his face. “I was going to ask if you wouldn’t mind helping me, after everything—”

“For god’s sake, Klaus, we broke up, we didn’t go to war. Get on the couch, I'll get my medical kit.”

She helps him over to the couch and sets a newspaper behind his back so that he can't get blood on it.

“How are you even here?” she asks, getting him a glass of water. “Your base is twenty minutes from here.”

Klaus shrugs. “I was in the area.”

She shakes her head but doesn’t say a word when she disappears into the bedroom, closing the door behind her and letting out a shaky breath.

It had been six months.

Six months since she had seen him, since she had talked to him, seen his eyes, his face, touched him.

She misses him like hell.

She steadies herself and rummages through her bathroom cabinet for her first aid box, grabbing her gloves as she runs out.

She runs back in and grabs a pair of forceps and clamps after a second thought.

Klaus is lying on the couch, a furious expression on his face, gritting his teeth as he tries to remove the piece of cloth stuck to the wound on his abdomen.

“What are you doing?” Caroline asks sharply. “You're hurt. That wound might be infected, I need to clean it.”

“Caroline, as much as I appreciate your concern for my health, I assure you, infection is not one of my main concerns right now—”

“Oh, yeah, I'm so sorry, I totally forgot you were the doctor here and I was the psycho mob—”

“Caroline—”

“You know infected wounds can lead to sepsis, right? Do you really want to die from—”

“I'm not going to die, Caroline.”

“You are if you don’t let me treat that wound. Will you just tell me what happened?”

Klaus glares at her. “I got shot.”

That wipes all traces of irritation from her mind. “You what?” she screeches.

Klaus holds up a hand placatingly. “Caroline, li—”

“You never get shot.”

“I know that,” Klaus says, a touch of exasperation making its way into his voice. “Caroline, listen to me, please.”

Caroline glares at him. “I'll listen after I clean this wound and take the fucking bullet out—oh my god, this was supposed to be my day off—”

“You don’t have to do anything, love,” he reassures her. “I didn’t come here to ask you to treat me, I can do it myself, I just—”

“You think you can clean a bullet wound and get the bullet out by yourself? Are you kidding me?”

Irritation clouds his face. “I've done it before.”

“You just said you don’t get shot.”

“For friends, love,” he says exasperatedly.

“Yeah, and who knows how sanitary that must’ve been. Just do me a favour and shut up and try not to scream while I—don’t argue with me, Klaus—let me clean that up. Stay here. I'm getting my scissors.”

She runs to the bathroom and sterilizes a pair, and rushes back to the couch. “I'm cutting your shirt off, okay?” she says, trying to sound as gentle as possible.

Klaus grunts in assent, wordlessly removing his hands from his abdomen and gripping the armrest of her couch. Caroline fights back a gasp at how bloody his shirt has gotten, instead forcing down a shudder and carefully snipping away pieces of the fabric to get a look at the wound.

She looks up at him when she needs to get her tweezers for picking out bits of cloth out of the wound. “This might hurt,” she warns, concentrating on the large patch of torn flesh. “I've given you some local anesthesia, but it would be great if you kept the screams of pain to a minimum. My neighbours aren’t big on noise.”

Klaus laughs, the sound low in his throat. “Sweetheart, you know I've handled much worse pain. I'll be fine.”

Caroline stills. “Now, how could I know that?” she bites out, picking out the first piece of cloth. “You know, since I never knew.”

Klaus closes his eyes. “Caroline—”

“Because obviously, being in a relationship with a guy for five months and not being told the extent of he does during his job obviously qualifies as knowing everything. Right. Yeah.”

Klaus’s hands clench into fists. “Let me explain.”

“No, you had your chance to explain. You know when? Those few months that we dated. I was with you for five months, Klaus. I told you I loved you.”

“I didn’t want to scare you off,” he says, his hand going towards her shoulder.

“Don’t,” she bites out. “Let me concentrate.”

He falls silent, and Caroline wordlessly works away at the wound, noticing that his eyes flicker over to her every few seconds. She finally locates the bullet and is fortunately able to get it out with her clamps in just a few tries. “Bite into one of my pillows if the pain gets too much,” she says quietly. “You're lucky the bullet didn’t go too deep. Stitches are a bitch.”

“I know,” Klaus says, smiling at her hesitantly.

She doesn’t respond, almost sighing in relief when she inspects the wound again after removing the bullet and deducing that it needs only a few stitches. She carefully threads the needle through his skin, feeling him tense underneath her. “Calm down,” she murmurs, placing a hand on his chest unconsciously. “Just two more and you're done.”

“Caroline, if you want me to calm down, you're probably not helping matters by touching me.”

She removes her hand from him as though she’s been burned.

Five minutes later, she’s done suturing and bandaging his wound, and Klaus stands up gingerly. “You're good to go,” says Caroline, removing her gloves. “You'll need to come back every three days, because I need to replace the bandages. But it’ll get better pretty soon, cause, like I said, it wasn’t too deep.”

Klaus doesn’t say anything for a moment. He just gazes at her, his blue gaze boring into her own. Caroline laughs nervously. “Well, you're welcome anyway, even though—”

“I can thank you later, Caroline,” Klaus says, cutting her off. “But first, you need to listen.”

She breathes in shakily. “Klaus, please. We’re done. It’s over. Why do we have to discuss it?”

“Because it’s not fair to either of us,” he says, taking her hands in his. “I think of you every day, sweetheart, I can't get you out of my head. I see you in my dreams, when I'm awake…”

Caroline shakes her head, averting her gaze.

“I miss you, Caroline.”

She swallows. “You lied to me, Klaus.”

She sees him inhale slowly. “Yes. I did. But it was for your own good.”

“Everyone says that,” she cries. “Whenever you're lied to, the other person always says that it was for their own good. Why? Why couldn’t you have told me? I could’ve made my own choice. I should have the right.”

“You do, sweetheart,” he says gently, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and she closes her eyes and clenches her hands into fists, hating how he still has an effect on her. “You just never gave me a chance to explain.”

She opens her eyes, ashamed to realize they're full of tears. “We were together for months, Klaus. How could you not have told me that you were investigating my dad? That you knew he was alive? You knew how much he meant to me.”

“I was going to tell you,” he replies, a touch of frustration making its way into his voice. “You never gave me the chance to.”

“Would you?” she asks hotly. “Would you trust a person you loved to tell you the truth when you found out they had been lying to you for five months?”

He’s quiet for two minutes, and Caroline opens her mouth to ask him again when he says, “he wanted you dead.”

Caroline gapes at him, and he takes a deep breath. “We—Kol and I—our sources found out that he had gone into hiding years ago. He had faked his own death in a freak accident, and had been working for one of our rivals for six years. He had done some bad things, Caroline, and his bosses weren't too pleased with him. He owed them a lot of money, money he didn’t have, and the target was placed on your back, what with your mother dead.”

Caroline doesn’t know what to say, so she collapses onto the couch, her hands swinging uselessly by her sides. “He—” she manages finally, her voice coming croaky, “he was willing to let them kill me?”

Klaus is expressionless. “They’d already killed his husband, Caroline, and recently. I didn’t want you getting caught in the crossfire. And if they had found out that you were linked to me—”

“Is that why you didn’t tell me?” she asks, looking up at him. “Because you didn’t want anyone to know?”

Klaus sinks down to his knees and takes her hands in his. “I wanted to protect you, Caroline. And besides…” He turns away at that, looking at the carpet. “No one should have an opinion like that about their father.”

She knows why he’s saying this, knows that he has a reason.

She had been extremely close to her father when she had been a child, even after he ad her mother had gotten a divorce. She used to spend alternate Christmases and summers at his house in Georgia, along with Steven and her adopted sister. Those had been a few of the best months of her life.

She didn’t even want to know what had happened to her sister.

Knowing that her father, one of the people she had loved so much, had offered her up like a pig for slaughter, just to save his own skin, hurt a lot more than she thought it would, even after being neglected a few years before his so-called death.

She supposed that’s when he got involved in the Chicago mob.

Caroline nods slowly. “I…” She looks at him, his eyes earnest. “I can take care of myself a bit too, Klaus,” she says finally.

His mouth twitches at the corners. “I'm quite certain of that part, love. But I'd like to offer my services for the other bit, if you don’t mind.”

She nods. “Yeah, you can do that.”

He smiles, ad Caroline can't breathe, because she misses that smile, which always made her breathless, and him, so much that she hadn’t even realised it.

She hasn’t talked to him in six months, and she misses him like air.

“I—” she starts, then closes her mouth. Klaus cocks his head at her, and she takes a deep breath. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted me to be the on-base doctor for your family again,” she says in a rush. “If you want. If there’s still a vacancy. If you still want…me.” the last sentence is heavy with implication, and they both know it.

Klaus’s eyes are hopeful when he looks back at her. “Yes,” he says softly. “Yes, I'd like that very much.”

OOO

Thanks for reading!

Cheers!

[sleepyyshouto]

bakusquad when you have a concussion

a/n: i got hit in the head and now have a concussion and fucked up a nerve in my eye so,,,, here we are😀

tw// none I think?? besides mild language!

BAKUGO —

“idiot, what do you mean you have a fucking concussion!? what the hell did you do!” we all know this man has no chill and that does not stop upon you getting hurt. is very worried about what happened, but struggles to express it in a way that won’t mess your head up more. he tries though! he’ll make your favorite food and get all your meds, but is low key overbearing about it. you can’t really sleep it off since he’s constantly coming to check on you. if you tell him to back off, he will, but he’ll text you from the other room to let him know if you need anything “just in case!”

KIRISHIMA —

has no idea what that means or what to do. he knows that you have to go to the hospital for head injuries because of first aid training but after that?? useless, he’ll look it up though and ask exactly what you need him to do. if you want him to stick around while you’re resting, he definitely will. king of back rubs and head massages, has you so relaxed that sleeping is a piece of cake. he kinda treats it as if you’re sick: bringing you snacks, giving you meds, which is all good until you go a bit stir crazy in which he’ll go walk with you around campus.

SERO —

“oh shit, really?” this man swings from buildings with tape on his elbows, he’s had his fair share of head injuries. does what his mom used to do for him, helps you to take a shower, lets you go nap and makes some food in the meantime, gets a note to excuse him from school the day after it happens so he can stay with you and makes sure to wake you up every few hours and take care of yourself. is very sweet and understanding about it, and doesn’t push you to get better before you are. will let you nap in his bed and curl up to his side, he’ll stay as long as he can, watching TV silently and pressing kisses to your hair softly.

KAMINARI —

straight up freezes when you tell him. both wants to comfort you and doesn’t think he’ll do a good job. he’ll help you as much as he can when it comes to getting you what you need, even goes as far as asking bakugo to make an extra serving of his food so you’ll have a nice home cooked meal, but refuses to let himself be in the room while your sleeping. he knows he’s fidgety and that’s the last thing you need right now so he’ll go chill in someone else’s room or downstairs, but if you’re awake, he’ll offer to stay with you but only if you promise to tell him if he’s bugging you. really worried about being a nuisance, but he’s a huge help the entire time.

MINA —

doesn’t know exactly how she can help you but makes sure she gets everything you need for when you’re better. it’s low key the most she’s paid attention in class all year. lecture notes? done. homework? collected. any sort of cheat sheet or study guide? not only did she get them, she filled them out for you and got them double checked just to make sure you’re in good hands. while you’re still sick though, she basically makes you a period kit without the sanitary items: meds, chocolate, heating pad, one of her hoodies, snacks, it’s all there for when you need it. offers to lie with you when you’re trying to nap and let’s you steal all her covers.

(BONUS)

SHINSOU —

the second you tell him you have a concussion, he is on it. will take you up to his dorm and turn off the lights, get you meds, and ask if you want him to stay or leave. he’s had his own fair share of head aches and head injuries so he wants to make you as comfortable as possible. if you ask him to leave, he’ll kiss your forehead gently and then go downstairs until either you wake up, you need to take more meds, or it’s been too long. if you ask him to stay, he’ll hold you close, play with your hair if it helps, and chill until it’s dinner or he has to get up.

JIROU —

poor babe is SO worried that she’s gonna make it worse. gets you any meds you need and tea to go with it even though she’s not the best at making it. low key is scared to touch you in case she’ll make it worse?? but also if you ask for a hug or to go lie down, is 100% down for it. huge sigh of relief when you tell her you’re feeling better and will like,,, flop on top of you for at least an hour as she lets go of all her stress.

do not claim, edit, or repost any of my works as per @sleepyyshouto

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Sonine Prime ... Part 7

Hi, everyone and welcome back to Sonine Prime! The part of the show when I come out and talk about Sonine (and a bit of Sontails) in Sonic Prime!

Last time we covered the first big scene in The Grim, and now we're so so close to finishing off Episode 6. This time, I'm hoping to move on to Episode 7 and hopefully reach the end of this season, but we'll see if my hopes are cut short by the tumblr media limit again.😂

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<< Part 6 | Part 8 >>

(Essay/thoughts/analysis under the cut)

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So, starting off where we left off last time. I will note that Nine just informed Sonic (with a serious face and a frown) that he's going home right after this battle (essentially giving Sonic a second chance to join him in the Grim before Nine closes himself off forever), and Sonic responded by being so happy that he knew Nine would "come back". Keeping this in mind is important. Why?

Well, after being so frustrated and disappointed that Sonic didn't choose him in the Grim, and after just posing sonic a new choice ("You can either stay here and I'll seal myself off alone in the Grim, or you can join me there in the Grim")...Nine can't help but smile in regards to Sonic again.

"I'll take em low, you take em high!"

"Already on it."

Once Nine makes his point to Sonic as best he can, they fall right back into working together again. It's been so long since they last fought together, and both seem...happy for it. Even if Nine doesn't actually want to be here, you can see on his face how much he enjoys cleaning house with Sonic (not surprising, given how much he perked up in Episode 1 when he believed Sonic was telling him that the two of them used to fight the Chaos Council and win).

That also being said, despite the fact that they (chronologically) hadn't actually spent a lot of time together in the first few episodes and spent a while apart, it really is a testament to their relationship just how well the two work together and continue to. You get the impression from this short little scene that the two don't need to say much to know how they should fight, actual plans be damned. Yes I think one can extrapolate that Nine has already been forming a strategy and Sonic was largely planning to wing it, but the fact Sonic didn't need to say much says that they trust each other (and that, at the very least, they both think the other understands an unspoken plan).

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Now, when Sonic and the Rebels celebrate the defeat of the last of the Eggforcers (and what seems to be the Chaos Council's retreat), Renegade mentions that he doesn’t know what happened to Nine. While we as the audience know Nine was captured by the Council, Sonic hasn't seen Nine since he jumped off of his ship. Neither he, Rebel, nor Renegade know where Nine is.

However, here's what's interesting about this scene.

"We're good. Not sure what happened to your "friend" though."

"I don't like this. The shard could be anywhere."

Rebel and Renegade still have no solid reason to trust Nine. Even if it's true that he came to aid in the fight, they didn't see him finish it, and they have previously expressed the concern that Nine would hand the paradox prism shard over to the council. While they're not as convinced that Nine has traitorous intentions as they were earlier in the episode, they still are afraid that the shard is in the wrong hands or could be. Whether Nine is traitorous or not, it's concerning to them not to know the whereabouts of the shard.

"You're right. I better find him before he portals outta here again."

Now, I think it's clear Sonic agrees it's good to have a good eye on the shard, and that he is meeting Rebel and Renegade in the middle (so to speak) by offering to look for Nine.

However, what's important is the focus. Rebel and Renegade are focused on the shard. Nine's well-being? Not so much. Sonic? Sonic is focused on Nine himself. The shard? Well, find Nine and find the shard, right? Sonic doesn’t go into this expecting Nine to be in any danger, and Nine had told him earlier that he'd be leaving after the battle. So, if anything, Sonic’s concern is exactly as he says—finding Nine before he leaves.

Since Sonic never makes a reunion with Nine here, it's hard to say for sure what would have happened if he did. Or, rather, I feel confident that Nine would remind him of the choice he presented earlier in some form, forcing Sonic to choose, but I can't say for sure whether Sonic's intentions were to convince Nine to stay, to make sure he knows to keep the shard safe, or what. All I can say is that...Nine's absence at the end of the battle seems to leave him focused on the fact that Nine will leave soon if he doesn't get to catch him and see him beforehand, not so much on the shard itself.

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And we are finally finished with Episode 6 (an episode that has now spanned three parts😂)!

Onwards to episode 7, where while looking for Nine, Sonic accidentally portals out of New Yoke.

"Okay, stay calm. One minute I was looking for Nine, then I saw that gnarly ship, and then, somehow..."

Funny, huh? All 3 times he was transported to another shatterspace after his original arrival in New Yoke, Sonic thought about Nine's whereabouts just after arrival. This time, he was looking for Nine before the transport, versus the last two times, where he'd at least briefly thought about doing so after arriving.

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Okay, so just like with Thorn Rose in episodes 4 and 5, I'd like to talk about Knuckles the Dread for a minute (and not just because he's my other fav).

While I can't pull a "wow there are some surprisingly direct parallels here" as I did with Thorn and Nine, Dread serves a different purpose for being brought up. Simply put, Dread is also a character who forms a fast relationship with Sonic, his story is a bit more complicated than "guy who is secretly evil", and Sonic's relationship with Dread shows the audience just how much Prime Sonic can handle when a friend turns on him.

Now, since we're only on season 1, we won't be touching on this last point until later, but I'm going to compare and contrast Dread and Nine on purpose.

So, let us begin with the first meeting.

Sonic was specifically searching for Tails when he trailed Nine all the way to his lab. This was the beginning of the show and he still didn't know much about what was going on, so when he entered Nine's lab, he assumed that Nine was Tails. He acted friendly off the bat, entering the lab and turning Nine's chair like he does in that flashback depicting him entering Tails' lab. However, as Sonic was a stranger to Nine at this point, had intruded in his space, and called him a name only thrown around by his bullies, he ended up in a fight with Nine.

As for Sonic's first meeting with Dread, he isn't specifically looking for anyone before this. When he arrives in No Place, he recounts what he was doing and what happened before he landed first. After this, while he does wonder about the outfit change for this shatterspace, he's largely focused on his own safety. This can be seen in the number of times he puts emphasis on how much water is around, how many times the camera focuses on water as Sonic darts around trying to avoid the pirates, and how panicked he gets trying to argue for his safety in front of Batten Rouge, Black Rose, and Sails.

"Aharr harr I don't mean to harm, ye. I'm just a wayward hedgehog, looking for a way home. Agh! Water."

...

"Listen, I'm not a part of any crew you're looking for. In fact, I've lost my crew. It's...a bit of a sore spot, actually..."

...

"Wait, you're leaving? Uh, you can't leave me here! There's literally water everywhere! Uh, where you going? Somewhere with a lot of land hopefully?"

...

"I'll row! I'm a great rower! I'll bet you twenty coconuts I'm the best rower you've ever seen!"

...

"Or else...the plank? I can assure you that this hedgehog has no interest in planks. Captain's orders. Got it! I love captains.

As for Dread, even beyond the fact that he's surrounded by pirates, Sonic has good reason to meet Dread assuming he's (Sonic's) already in danger (in contrast to how he'd assumed that things would be all okay as soon as he found "Tails" in episode 1), even beyond the fact that Dread is a pirate captain.

"I say we pirate!"

"A-But...the captain's not here! I-I don’t think he'd approve of us—you know—pirating."

"What kind of pirates don't pirate?"

"Well, you know how the saying goes Rose. Dead men tell no tales."

While it clearly throws Sonic off that the pirates would be under orders not to pirate, I'd say if one kept in mind the trio's actions, it's not hard to conclude that they may fear going against Dread's order's. After all, they reason that they can cleave Sonic to the brisket as long as Dread doesn't know about it, and as long as they think Sonic is from "the old crew" (who do periodically mess with their ship and steal their supplies).

And given how happy Batten, Sails, and Black Rose were to attempt to "cleave him to the brisket", even though Dread's orders are not to pirate, I don't think it's a stretch to say that Sonic could preemptively assume Dread will be harsh on him or aggressive the way these three were (which is to say, happy to deliver harm).

"All right, all right. Enough's enough. Gather the coconuts. The captain'd want us to get back to the ship without takin' too long. Leave this scalawag for the buzzards."

A bit of urgency to get back (which one can assume is either or both because of captain's orders and for balancing his disposition), and essentially a "let's leave him to die".

Then, when Sonic asks where they're going and says that they can't just leave him...

"Back to our ship. And we don't take scallywags."

"You know... With all that speed, this landlubber could be useful. Swabbin' the deck. Raisin' the mizzenmast. Rowin' the boat?"

"Agh. I hate rowin' the boat..."

In short, I this little moment conveys to Sonic that they don't just take people onto their ship, and that if he wants to leave this island with him, he'll need to prove himself useful. It's pretty clear that he's acting in the interest of his safety and not being confined to this tiny island, so it makes sense that he'd try to argue that he's useful.

"Fine. I, too, hate the rowin'. But there is one condition when we get back to the ship. It's captain's orders. Or. Else."

And judging by Sonic's understanding of that being "or else you walk the plank" and insisting he by no means plans on disobeying the captain, he understands this threat for what it is. He needs to be useful and follow orders (or at least suck up and pretend he will be/do these things) so he can survive and/or have a chance to escape and continue his search for the prism shards.

However, given how causally Sonic comments on Catfish drinking "a few too many coconuts" and about how the pirates should consider cleaning the poop deck (essentially, how much more casual and less on edge he is) compared to his disposition change after he learns that the captain is a Knuckles variant, I'd say that once he feels assured that the crew isn't going to kill him or leave him to die, he settles back into a more casual attitude. However, once Black Rose and Batten Rouge introduce Knuckles the Dread as "The Dread" and Sonic sees that he's Knuckles, he flashes back to his meeting with Knuckles in Sonic the Hedgehog 3. We can clearly gauge by the flashback that Knuckles was strong, assumed Sonic was a threat, fought him like one, and stubbornly refused to listen to reason after listening to Eggman. Unlike how Sonic was bewildered by the idea that "Tails" would fight him in Sonic Prime Episode 1, after all of his knowledge of Knuckles the Dread he's gotten so far comes to head, he no longer seems as confident in his safety on this ship.

"The Dread is...Knuckles?"

*Queue flashback sequence*

"Yeah, does make sense. But you're pirate Knuckles. I'm not taking any chances."

So, to clarify, while it bewildered him that "Tails" would fight him when he first met Nine, the idea that Knuckles would fight him (especially a version that doesn't know him) is not at all surprising to him, given that he assumes that Dread will be aggressive towards him.

So, interesting I suppose that we have Tails (someone who Sonic can't fathom wanting to hurt him, who he feels more okay around), Amy (someone who is sweet, but nevertheless is someone who's not beyond being aggressive towards Sonic), and Knuckles (someone who is not beyond being aggressive towards him and has done so in the past).

So, while Nine pretty quickly gets defensive, preemptively assuming that Sonic wishes him harm, and thus tries to get on the offensive, Sonic does the same with Dread. The main difference here is that Nine reacts quickly, treating Sonic as someone who wishes him harm and actively fights him. Sonic holds out a sword, showing that he's prepared to protect himself, but he doesn't rush into battle. Rather, he makes it clear that he has a weapon, isn't afraid to use it, and that he doesn’t trust Dread.

With this, while Sonic fought an uphill battle trying to convince Nine during their fight that he meant him no harm and that they are friends, Dread was able to talk Sonic down in a more peaceful setting, which he does instead of treating Sonic like an aggressor or getting angry and attempting to get rid of Sonic. Needless to say, it's a bit out of the expectations one would have, given how the crew had talked about Dread and that he's presumed to be just like Prime!Knuckles at first.

With Nine:

"Yes! There's my two-tailed genius friend. Surprise!"

*Nine growls*

"Tails, it's me, your best–"

"What did you just call me?"

"Uh... Tails?"

"The name's...NINE!"

...

"What do you want?! Who sent you?"

"Woah! Heck! How many tails do you have?"

"Nine!"

...

"Tails, stop! We're buds—amigos! Best friends!"

"I have no friends!"

"'No friends'? You have the best friends!"

...

"You've been working out? Heh. Who's your trainer? Ow!"

"I was trained by the misery of life in this foul and heartless city."

"Snap out of it, we go way back!"

...

"All my best memories of Green Hill have you in 'em, and you're not punching me!"

...

"Don't you wanna go home? Blue skies, sunny beaches, palm trees?"

"I don't know what kind of mind games you're playing, but it won't work!"

...

"You...saved me?"

"I've been trying to tell you that we are friends."

"Fabricated stories won't keep me from beating you back, intruder!"

"Stop! Just...stop. We're friends—best friends. This has to ring a bell."

Of course, after this Sonic and Nine have a much calmer conversation, but Sonic can only seemingly convince him he's not a threat, not fully convince him that the two of them are friends (though Sonic does recount times with Tails and soft events they often partake in together).

With Dread:

"The Dread is...Knuckles?"

*Queue flashback sequence*

"Yeah, does make sense. But you're pirate Knuckles. I'm not taking any chances." *Sonic sniffs the air* "Fire? Fire! Wait...dinner? Dinner!"

"I'll trade you that sword of yours for this nice, shiny apple."

"So you can stuff it in my mouth? Uh, no thanks. Uh, you do know hedgehog quills are a choking hazard, don't you?"

*Dread and the crew laugh*

"Don't you worry. The fire isn't to cook you. It’s to welcome you!"

"Agh!"

...

"...Definitely not the Knuckles I know."

"Besides. Have you seen your legs? I've seen more meat on a starfish!"

"Wait, this really is a party?"

"Ha ha. Sure is!"

It's worth noting that relations become more amicable after both of these events. Nine is still a bit prickly, not completely sure why he and Sonic would have been friends once before, but he is no longer fighting him, he let's him into his lab, and he does help Sonic out and worry for his well-being. We also know that this leads into Nine's attachment to Sonic. As for Sonic, once Dread convinces him he's not in danger and throws a party, he calms down, even proclaiming that Dread is his favorite Knuckles.

And this entire scene with Dread is very interesting. Though he doesn't actually act like The Dread of the seas anymore, it's still strange given how the crew talked about him that Dread is...taking everything so well. It would be one thing if he had just decided to let Sonic attack like with the old crew, or if he was just getting on Sonic's good side so he could use him, but (first of all) he actively (and calmly) talks Sonic down from being defensive, and he hasn't met Sonic before now. Dread doesn't yet know about Sonic's speed or usefulness!

We can infer from Sonic's first meeting with the crew, and Sonic's finding Catfish asleep on the dirty ship and surrounded by coconuts, that these days Dread only gives his crew orders when needed. We know from later (when he decides to have another party for the second day in a row) that Dread is trying to keep his crew happy and largely out of danger by his doing. And, even though Dread mentions that they "don't come across adventurers that often" as a reason for throwing a party for Sonic, it says a lot by the fact that his crew had assumed Sonic was part of "the old crew" pestering him without real proof.

I think we can safely conclude that whether Dread had planned this party in advance for not, the idea that it is for Sonic specifically is something he decided on the fly.

And why?

Well, the simplest explanation is that since Sonic is neither necessarily someone to be brought into his crew, nor someone who wishes him and his crew harm, he used his words and demeanor to take control of the situation so that Sonic the adventurer may pass through peacefully. And frankly, I do believe that this is part of why Dread initially acts the way he does.

But...I don't think that's all. Rather, like the way Nine and Sonic take to each other fairly fast, I personally wager that Dread initially gained an interest in Sonic beyond any particular usefulness he'd have.

Well, and that Sonic takes to him fairly well too, if you consider the return of this expression (being leveled at Dread this time) significant of anything

"You're officially my favorite Knuckles ever!"

For the sake of the tumblr picture limit, I've compiled a video of some clips of Sonic and Dread interacting (mind the quality) that take place after the "You're officially my favorite Knuckles" line, and before Dread gets a firsthand demonstration of Sonic’s speed and fighting prowess (i.e. before he learns that Sonic is or could be useful).

Of course, the main reason I compiled these was to show off how...touchy Dread is with Sonic for someone he's only just met (not to mention the limp wrist gesture😂). However, there are a few other things I want to point out from these clips.

So, just to begin, I'll emphasize once more that Dread does not know about Sonic's speed yet, and he’s very much at the moment trying to distance himself from his past self that was willing to work his crew to death for the sake of getting the blue shard. So if there are any ulterior motives as to why he's focusing on pampering Sonic, then it can't be because he wants to use him, and it's unlikely that it's because he's either trying to push Sonic along and out of his life peacefully, or because he's trying to recruit him for the crew. For the former, if he was trying to peacefully push Sonic the adventurer towards his destination for the safety of himself and crew, then he wouldn't be (frankly put) as in Sonic's personal space, he wouldn't have tried to rope Sonic into a second party til sunset on day 2 of knowing Sonic, and he would have talked at all about where they can drop Sonic off so he can pursue his mission or adventure. For the latter? I'd like to explain why I personally don't believe Dread intended on necessarily recruiting Sonic into the crew.

The short of the "why" for why Dread is most likely not trying to recruit Sonic into his crew, is because he's treating Sonic even a bit differently than his existing crew members. Earlier, while writing this, I considered the idea that perhaps Dread pulled this whole "I threw a party for you!" routine for his other crew members back after losing his previous crew. I considered that Dread picked them up originally because he was in need of a crew (and didn't want to leave the high seas), and because they were wayward souls (so to speak) or looking to become pirates. However, while all of this is plausible, there are two things that came to mind regarding Sonic.

Presumably, Dread doesn't really need more crew? He doesn't know anything that would make Sonic stand out from anyone else ability wise, he clearly doesn't care for recruiting someone to help with the old crew's plundering of their ship, and he doesn’t offer at this point to recruit Sonic. He merely treats him as a wandering adventurer. Does he even need Sonic for upkeep of the ship or for getting supplies/food or even for steering/navigating on the ship when he has crew members already who can handle it all?

That Dread has clearly told his crew members his tale of woe (because they seem to know a bit more than simple rumors), but not only does he skirt around telling Sonic, he gets angry at the prospect of any of his crew telling Sonic the story of Dread at his worst. If it's common knowledge or something that Dread told the rest of his crew, why would he not tell Sonic? In fact, if you check those clips, when Batten goes to tell Sonic about when Dread used to be a "not so nice" pirate, Dread is not only quick to angrily shut the talk down, but he moves much closer to Sonic to ask him about himself instead. In addition, as you see towards the end of the video I embedded, when he emphasizes that Sonic should leave the story and shard be, he glares at him, pushing a fist lightly into Sonic's chest (again, physical contact).

So Dread doesn't know about Sonic's speed. He knows that Sonic isn't from his former crew. He doesn't need more crew. While he's very nice to Sonic, seemingly focusing on him and doting on him, he's quick to get angry at the crew if they try to mention his past to Sonic. The crew knows Dread's story. Dread doesn't want Sonic to know his story. Dread keeps on switching the focus on Sonic or trying to get him to party more, and he neither talks about recruiting him nor about Sonic leaving at some point. Do you want to know what this means to me?

Dread is acting the way he is about Sonic, treating him differently than his crew, trying to learn more about him, being more "physical" with him so to speak, neither trying to make Sonic leave nor make him a crew member, trying to pull him into a party again or incentivise him to chillax on his ship, trying not to let Sonic know of his backstory of being "not so nice"...

...because he likes Sonic.

Dread doesn't need Sonic or anything, he's not making it clear he needs Sonic, but perhaps he just wants him around, and not in a way that makes Sonic his subordinate. He wants Sonic to think of him as this nice pirate captain, not as the guy who lost his crew over his obsession with a jewel.

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Okay, okay, let's take a momentary breather. You're probably wondering what everything I just said has to do with anything. If Dread met Sonic and decided he wanted him to come along with him, no responsibility attached, as a "friend" after barely knowing him, what does this have to do with Nine (or Sonine, for that matter)?

Well, there's something I'd like to remind you of. Just like with Sonic and Dread in S1 E7 (to the point that Sonic assumes he and Dread are going to fight the old crew in tandem), in earlier parts of Sonine Prime I mentioned that Sonic and Nine really haven't known each other for very long. In fact, before Nine picks Sonic up in S1 E6 to take him to the Grim, Nine doesn't actually need Sonic.

Nine has two prism shards at this point, and (as we see later in S2) he has the power to start molding the Grim into the home he desires. By the time he goes to fetch Sonic, he's planning on staying there, closed off from the rest of the shatterverse. He's planning on showing Sonic what he's already created and living here alone with him. Nine doesn't even care about gathering the other shards until he has to worry about what the Chaos Council will do with even one shard, and once other characters besides him and Sonic can jump between the shatterspaces, he actually has to worry about keeping his new home and his own life safe.

But back in S1 E6? Nine doesn't need Sonic. He doesn't need anything from him. Not his speed. Not anything he possesses. Not his connection to the prism. He wants Sonic there to build a home with him, even if Nine can do it without him, has everything already lined up.

Likewise, early S1 E7 Dread doesn't need Sonic. Not his speed (that he doesn’t know about yet). Not as a crew member. Not to fend off the old crew (he wasn't preparing to fight them). Not to get the blue shard (which he explicitly didn't want anything to do with or for Sonic to know the details about). He just wanted him to come along and hang out, party, relax.

Interesting, right?

And also funny that Sonic ends up rejecting both Dread's offer to continue to hang back and relax on the ship and Nine's offer to stay and build a new home with him in the Grim

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And so ends our time in S1 E7: It Takes One to No Place. Now we will finally move onto the last episode of the season!

So begins Season 1 Episode 8: There's No AARGH In "Team"

So, like with Nine, once they're on amicable terms Sonic begins to form an idea of Dread in his head that differs from how the Echidna actually is. While we can see this sort of come to head a bit in episodes 7 and 8, one major moment I want to talk about is when Dread flees the sinking Angel's Voyage. The once mighty Knuckles the Dread, who Sonic had thought of highly due to first impressions and of certain traits of Knuckles' he assumes of Dread, is a coward.

But...that's not all that's going on here.

There are miscommunications abound in this show, and Sonic has a pattern of listening to people's backstories (Nine, Dread, Thorn, Shadow, etc), thinking he understands this person and their situation, and trying to help what he believes the problem is at hand (in a way that's often pointed towards his own goals, and leads him to assume the other person wants the same things as him or should). For Dread, Sonic got the part where Dread lost his courage when it comes to pirating. Even when his inexperienced crew fought during episode 7 and at the beginning of episode 8, he yet hid and hung back.

But Dread is also scared of something other than fighting other pirates or death. He's scared of himself.

"I don't care what version of Knuckles you are. You don't give up. It's your most annoying virtue! This shard is my only hope of finding my home! I need you. Your crew needs you! You're Knuckles the Dread, captain of the Angel's Voyage! Dreaaaad!"

Sonic thinks that Dread has simply lost his courage and pride. He needs Dread's help to get the shard, and he can't do it if Dread is gone. So bringing "The Dread" back fulfills two purposes. The first, (like with Thorn, Prim, and the scavengers) is to "make things okay again" (also known as "the right thing to do"), and to restore Dread's courage as a captain. The second, is to get the shard. The Angel's Voyage and its crew have a proud captain, and Sonic gets the blue shard. It should be a win-win, right?

"I gave up years ago, blue, when I wrecked trying to get that shiny rock yer after."

"We can still get it! With your captaining and my speed, you're not gonna wreck on those rocks again!"

"He is fast—fast enough to get me past them rocks..."

"We can do it together! And I can get home!"

"And I'll finally get me treasure."

"And you'll forever be known as the legendary Knuckles the Dread. The legendary Knuckles the Dread!"

"Aye. The legendary Knuckles the Dread."

The part of Dread's tale of woe that Sonic missed (or perhaps ignored), was the part where he was so obsessed with the blue shard that he lost himself and put his crew in danger. Dread lost his crew because he showed that he didn't care about them, not because he failed to get the shard. So sure, it makes sense that Dread is afraid, but for Dread getting that treasure became tied to being the "Dread" of the seas. The fact that he even took a crew on after that, tried to make most days fun and relaxing, and forbade them from acting like pirates, I don't think it's a stretch to say he was trying to keep history from repeating itself.

Because being the great pirate he used to be means going after his white whale again, and he'd responded to losing everything by trying to keep it from ever happening again.

Dread, like Nine, is the type that does care about people, they just both tend to place their goals and their well-beings over the innocent. Nine hesitated before leaving Renegade, Rebel, and Rusty Rose behind, ultimately choosing the safety of himself and the shard. Dread took in a new crew, got a new ship, left who he used to be behind, and focused on making the days peaceful and fun. He stopped going after the shard to protect himself, to keep from hurting anyone else for his obsessions, and so he doesn’t have to be responsible for the deaths of others (like his new crew).

So Sonic M. Hedgehog pushes Dread to help get the shard, because Sonic wants it, and because he thinks Dread will become a great pirate again if he succeeds. He convinces Dread to take this path once more, perhaps not realizing the outcome that convincing Dread to go for the rock (that "brings nothing but pain") will bring.

ㅤ

Okay, so I'd like to back up for a second and talk about both Dread and Nine.

Both of them have a wish, a great attachment to something they wish to get, but initially believe is impossible to. For Nine, it's "home", and for Dread, it's his treasure, the devil's lighthouse. Home and treasure. Neither of these things are inherently bad to wish for.

Nine isolated himself as much as possible, tried to contend with just being alone and protected so he couldn't be hurt again. Dread locked away his love of pirating and his want for his beloved treasure, not wanting to drive himself to doom and lose everything again in the hopeless pursuit of it.

Both created a life of safety for themselves and reacted based upon the pain they'd experienced and struggles they went through. For Nine, truly all he needed was to create "home" for himself, but the trouble is that he never would, because he believed this to be impossible, and because he doesn't really know what "home" is. For Dread, truly all he needed was to move on from the shard, focus on his love of pirating and make his crew feel cared for, but the trouble is that he never would, because to him there is only one choice that can be made. To Dread, there is only getting his beloved treasure at all cost (which would likewise return his reputation and status), or there is keeping the days fun and peaceful, suppressing his desire to keep himself and his crew safe.

But then Sonic arrived, and he each made them believe. Sonic made Dread believe that he could succeed and get his treasure without losing anything. With the shard, Dread reasoned he could have the treasure he'd so desired and have his ideal life again. Unbeknownst to Sonic, who assumed he'd be able to just leave with the shard and take that step to restore his home, Dread's dream is tied to that shard, and he's willing to hold onto it no matter the cost now (exactly what he'd feared before). Sonic made Nine believe that he could finally make a home for himself. With one shard and an entire shatterverse, Nine reasoned that he could finally escape New Yoke and create a new home away from everyone else. Unbeknownst to Sonic, who's assumed that Nine has the same goal as him, and will eventually hand over the shards so they can restore his own home.

Dread stood aside. He gave into the stubbornness of Sonic and his crew (especially now that they'd banded together), allowing them to choose to sail straight towards the light that brought him ruin without him having to reap the consequences (since he didn't make the choice).

With the shard in hand, Nine found a new, empty shatterspace for himself. He intended to move forward on his path, and create his home, isolated from everyone else. He intended to leave the other shatterspaces to their fates, let the people there deal with their own problems that they caused.

ㅤ

Let's go back to the scene where the ship was beginning to sink, taking Sonic and the crew with it, and Dread responds by fleeing alone. Let's think back to episode 6, where Sonic and the resistance were fighting the Chaos Council for their right to exist, and Nine takes Sonic away.

At this point, Dread left, not willing to be doomed for a goal he did not pursue (or rather, to die because his crew decided not to listen to him, decided to follow Sonic towards the shard instead). Here is the first main difference between himself and Nine.

While Nine had also decided to leave the resistance and council to fighting, feeling as if none of it was his responsibility or fault (since he owed nothing to the city), he very explicitly chose to take Sonic with him. Both he and Dread had found out the way they believed they would be able to live a peaceful life (with Dread spending his days on the seas partying, and with Nine spending his days alone in an empty world), but when they each left others to their fates (deciding to leave and pursue their immediate goals), Dread chose to leave it all behind, while Nine chose to bring Sonic with him (even though Sonic had involved himself in the resistance's plight too).

Think about the crew being left to sink with the Angel's Voyage as Sonic went to bring back Dread. Think about the resistance fighting a losing battle with Sonic gone in the Grim.

"I need you. Your crew needs you! You're Knuckles the Dread, captain of the Angel's Voyage!"

...

"We can do it together! And I can get home!"

Vs

"Look, Nine, it's incredible but it's...it's not going anywhere. And those rebels really need our help. Come with me. Help me finish the fight."

...

"I hope I see you in New Yoke."

And then, as Sonic lost hope that Dread would return, believed he had fully given up, Dread swooped in to retake his captain status and fix the sinking ship. However, Dread didn't come back for the crew just to save them. He came back because he reasoned that he could use Sonic's speed to get his treasure this time.

And then, as Sonic fought in New Yoke with the resistance, as it seemed like they had lost, Nine swooped in with his craft and freed Sonic and the others. Sonic proclaims that he knew Nine would come back, glad that he chose to help these people with him. However, Nine didn't come back just to save the resistance or to fight the Chaos Council. He came back for Sonic. He came so he could give Sonic another chance to choose him—to choose to come back with him so they can fulfill Nine's dream of "home" together.

And now, Dread needs Sonic to acheive his goal (what, with the map leading to The Devil's Lighthouse gone, and because only Sonic can guide the ship past the rocks), but Nine explicitly does not need Sonic to achieve his. Whereas Dread decides he needs Sonic to get the blue shard, Nine simply wants Sonic to be with him when they create "home".

Random other interesting thing, the first time Sonic really mentions Nine when he arrives back in New Yoke after seeing the Grim, he says that he knew he would come back. This contrasts how we see Sonic (onscreen) talk about how Dread has given up and left, before he later tells Dread that he knew Dread wouldn't leave his crew. Interesting that we can see proof that Sonic didn't fully believe that Dread would come back, but there's nothing to prove that he didn't actually believe that Nine would come back, isn't it?

ㅤ

Now, let us shift our sights back to Nine. During the second aside of S1 E8 where we see Nine with the Chaos Council, Nine discusses Sonic with the council.

I'd like to note that as of right now, Nine should have two goals: keeping the shards and his technology out of the council's hands and making an escape plan. As I said earlier, Nine clearly believed that two shards were more than enough for molding The Grim to his dreams. He only cares about being alive and being allowed to exist in his new home, so of course the Chaos Council gathering shards and endeavoring to take over encroaches on this. It makes sense that he'd endeavor to gather all the shards from this point forward, if not so he can keep the Chaos Council or anyone else from intruding in his new shatterspace or having the power to turn him into a victim again.

"Tch. Eliminating the hedgehog is a bad idea."

"Arguing for the life of your friend? What a shock."

"He left me at your mercy when I needed him most. Hardly what you'd call 'friendly' behavior. But you'd be fools to get rid of him before the shatterdrive technology is perfected."

Sure, Nine's not really wrong. He's making a decent point as to why the Council should keep Sonic alive. Perfecting the shatterdrive technology and learning more about the shards can only aid in the Council's conquest.

But Mr. Dr. Eggman has a point here. Even if Nine is bitter at Sonic for being left at the Council's mercy, there is nothing in it for Nine if he goes out of his way (essentially beyond the scope of his position) to help the council in their goals. Making them keep Sonic alive so they can use them to perfect the shatterdrive technology does nothing to keep the Council from getting more shards, it does nothing to keep the Council from taking the Grim, it does nothing to keep the Council from having power over him, and it does nothing to get him closer to escaping. After all, when we get to season 2, Nine will make Sonic give up his plan of saving him (Nine) in favor of working the council from the inside, confident that he'll be able to aid Sonic and escape with the shards from there. He doesn't even seem to necessarily need Sonic to help him escape.

So, why would Nine argue for Sonic's life in the same breath he tries to make clear how bitter he is at Sonic for leaving him to be captured? The answer is clear to me. This is because even if Nine is bitter and angry, he still cares about Sonic. Even if he doesn't need Sonic, he wants him alive. He's still holding onto that dream of building a new home with Sonic.

"Tch. It is perfected. We traveled to another shatterspace."

"You sent your robots to another shatterspace. Big difference.

And right after this, something shifts. There's a notable change in the expression Nine has on his face during most of the interaction so far (image 1) when he begins talking about Sonic again (image 2).

"You've only barely accomplished what he's done without any technology. He's a living shatter battery."

...

"Til we know why he gives off this power, we need him alive."

And it should be worth mentioning here that after Nine praises Sonic to put the council down, he quite literally raises himself up to Dr. Deep's level and speaks seriously to emphasize how vital Sonic theoretically is to the council's mission.

He puts on an act, he risks getting shocked for insubordination, he tries to convince the council that Sonic is vital to their mission, all to keep Sonic alive.

But if the viewer doubts that Nine is trying to save Sonic because he cares, or believes he must have ulterior motives for wishing to keep Sonic alive, the creators added in body language and face shots of Nine to show us how he feels about the Council using Sonic.

"The rat's right. Too many questions for us to start playing exterminator. At least, not until we wring every ounce of shatterjuice out of that blue varmint."

Oh yeah. I'd say "unhappy" with the idea is an understatement.

The way he droops down, like he feels terrible that he even gave them the idea. The way he grits his teeth and averts his eyes, like he's frustrated. The way he takes hold of his expression, stares forward, and glares.

ㅤ

And with that, season 1 of Sonic Prime finally comes to a close, as does Part 7 of Sonine Prime😂

While there are doubtless scenes from episode 8 I'll be referring to in later parts, there's nothing more of immediate importance to talk about. And even though I haven't yet hit the photo limit, I'm going to give this part a clean cut to end the first season.

This part accidentally became a lot of Dread character study, buuuuuuut hey I felt like I was able to point out some parallels I'd really wanted to talk about, so it’s a win for me! And this won't be the end of the Dread parallels either.

Thank you all for reading! I'll see you all in part 8, where we'll finally begin tackling season 2🥰

[tinydappledleaf]

Title: Stay

Chapter: 1/6

Pairing: Ezra x f!Reader, Ezra x you (Reader is addressed by 'you' or nickname)

Rating: 18+, smut in chapter 6

Content: Situationship to romance, soft Ezra, intimacy, loss of limb (non-explicit), canon compliant

Summary: When you've almost given up waiting for him, a certain prospector returns to the Pug to call in a favor...

Ao3: complete fic

chapter II 》

Chapter I

Each night you scale the building, let yourself fall flat onto its roof of corrugated sheets, and stare skywards, eyes searching for the pale red dot that is Bakhroma. The targeted date of his return has come and passed, many cycles prior, and you've long since abandoned counting.

You will yourself to believe that he's somewhere out there and, very much like you, gazing into the endless night and searching for the star that marks your home.

It’s a nice thought. A consoling mirage. One that keeps you going with each new rise of daylight.

Deep down, however, you know it’s nonsense. It feels like he's gone. One way or another.

The more the surprise it is, when his shadow falls into your workspace, his somewhat warped but still familiar frame filling the space of your doorway. Your vagrant friend.

"Hey Patches," says Ezra, wearing a rare expression of guilt, thinly veiled by the forced smile plastered across weathered features, "I need to call in a favor."

*

That was three cycles prior. Now, Ezra is laying on your couch on his back. A damp rag obscures his closed eyes from your view and adds moisture to his slicked back fringe. You're still baffled that you managed to get him there. In your stupor you nearly stumbled over a toolbox as he collapsed right into your workshop without further warning.

With the aid of his mysterious shadow - Cee, you are aware now - you had heaved him up the stairs, cleared away the clutter, and maneuvered his limp body onto the cushioned sofa.

He hasn't moved much since. Neither has the silent teenage girl, that guards his sleeping form like a gargoyle, perching on a chair beside his blanket-covered feet. She isn't much of a talker, that much you know. She answers when spoken to, clipped and vaguely, but otherwise keeps to herself.

Most of the time, her nose is buried into a tiny notebook, in which she furiously scribbles away. You’re curious about her writing, but if you asked, you're certain her reply would leave you none the wiser. If she even offered one at all. She radiates a fierce wariness towards you that speaks of horrid encounters and a stormy past. A kid of the Frontiers, you infer. Poor thing.

Only occasionally she ditches her book to raise her gaze. At a twitch of Ezra's body or a quiet murmur. Any sign of consciousness draws her attention - just for her to drop back into the chair dejected at each false alarm. He doesn’t wake. Not properly, at any rate.

By now you've helped him to the bathroom twice, but even then, he'd run on autopilot, disconcertingly silent and focused on each shaky step ahead. It scares you, his eerie and unfamiliar silence, and more than once, you've questioned if this is your fever dream, rather than his - wishing him back desperate enough to conjure up the vexing scenario you find yourself in. A glimmer of hope, though tightly wrapped in layers woven from threads of your nightmares.

But it’s not. He’s here, in your home, after having vanished on you for seasons. As surreal as it appears.

"He's gonna be okay... right?"

It takes you a second to register the question's essence, surprised by Cee's first direct approach, ensuing hours of nearly wordless co-existence. She's watching you from her spot by the couch and there's fatigue in her eyes. And concern.

You lay down your work, tools neatly aligned on an otherwise cluttered desktop, and leave it behind to step closer to her and your sleeping friend. Wiping both hands on your overall, you crouch beside Ezra's body, gaze grazing his bandaged shoulder. It still rattles you, the sight of his missing limb, but the initial panicked lurch of your stomach has long since settled. He's still breathing.

Given you had been convinced you'd never see him, never hear his winding speech and endearing drawl again, you're nothing but grateful for his presence.

"I don't know," you answer and the honesty stings as the words leave your mouth.

You don't dare glance at the girl, guessing it scares her just as much.

Reaching out, you tug the rag away from Ezra’s forehead and gently wipe the dampness off his skin. He's sweating, still running a searing fever. But you try to convince yourself he's gained some color to his cheeks. A hint of life. It's a good sign, right? That he's no longer pale as death herself.

"I choose to believe he's going to be alright," you add as you brush a few stray strands of dark hair from his forehead, briefly stroking the odd patch of bright blonde with your thumb. It no longer stands out lonely against the mass of dark hair. There's a hint of grey smattered along both sides of his temples. For now, it remains hidden, swallowed by the mass of dark locks, only visible up close. A detail you'll cherish. One that you might reserve for the occasional banter that you promise yourself for the future. He will be alright; you again assure yourself.

Once more you rinse the towel in a bowl of cold water, wring it out and replace it on his brow.

"Hmm," says Cee.

Then silence falls again.

*

Time drags, but you're occupied enough to get through the cycle. Of course, there's taking care of Ezra. Cee has opened up enough to you, to agree on taking turns. When its yours, you take her place and watch, dutifully, over your shared patient and friend. At first, she rarely leaves the room, sticks around to observe quietly. Makes sure you can be trusted.

But with each passing rotation of your shared watch, she slowly begins to use her time off more easily. By this time, she's taken a shower. Even left the flat to do some exploring all by herself. You’re in no place to order her around or confine her to your living space. So, you leave her be.

She appears to value the respect you show for her privacy, rewards you with a few more words, more detail on her person. You still know next to nothing about her encounter with Ezra or how she came to be his travel companion.

But you learned that she trusts him. That she cares for his wellbeing. As he does care for hers.

You feel like there's something she tries to repay. Some unspoken debt. But again, you don't pry.

When it’s her turn, you work. You've closed the repair shop downstairs soon after your unexpected visitor had fallen right through your door, quite literally. But a pile of previous orders still remains to be handled. You've relocated your workspace, or at least most of it, into your already cramped up living quarters.

With Cee around for help it’s not strictly necessary, you know that. But it calms your nerves and helps your concentration to be within the same four walls as your fever-stricken friend.

Besides, there's some tasks, that Cee rather hands off to you, as long as you're available. She changes bandages, offers him water from drenched towels, swaps and airs the blankets... but trips to the bathroom or administering medication are your 'field of expertise'. She calls you, you step in. It’s a silent agreement.

You tighten a fickle screw inside an ankle joint, as you hear your name for the third time since morning. Ready to abandon your work, you turn, but it’s not your help that Cee seeks, but conversation.

"For how long have you known him?"

Surprised by her unexpectedly personal question, you hum in thought and return to your work as you sort through memories.

"A decade? A bit longer, probably."

She nods in acknowledgement and seems to search for something to say, but remains silent, uncertain. You pick up the hint - or maybe it’s just your own desire to banish the lingering quiet.

"We met on my first job. Had no shop yet, was out there in the void as a mechanic for hire. Little older than you are now. About 19, I think?"

The memories come flooding in. Of endless freighter travels, empty pockets and wrong crowds.

"He kinda saved me. Fringelings don't exactly care much for anyone but themselves. Fledgelings 're easy prey. I had no idea what to expect and a tad too much confidence.”

You halt your story to solder a fiddly spot. Tongue between your teeth, you manage to get the unruly wire back into place. Satisfied, you speak on.

“Ez already had some reputation, back then. Was a bit longer around than me. Don't know if it was sheer coincidence or pity, but he picked the right time and place to step in and chew my ear off. Shooed an awfully nasty guy away with it."

From the corner of your eye you catch the girl scowl and grimace back to her in empathy. Her reaction speaks volumes.

"I stuck with him, after that,” you continue, “Let him show me the ropes and listened in return. We owe each other a lot. Kinda lost count who's turn it actually is to call in a favor. Not that I could ever turn him down."

That sparks a smirk and the tiniest bit of relieve rolls over you. To see anything else but a frown on Cee’s youthful face is progress. At least in means of trust and communication. Loosely you nod in your mutual friend's direction.

"He's a scoundrel, that one, I'm sure you know as much. But there's lots of good inside. Just have to dig a little."

"Oh, how it soothes my soul to hear you praisin’ me so very nicely. Keep goin'."

The hoarse murmur startles you both. Within the fraction of a tick, you're on your feet and beside the couch. So is Cee.

Its sole occupant cracks one weary eye open and the twitch of a wicked smile flutters across his face.

Your eyes sting, as you take him in. Still sweaty and flushed with fever, he blinks languidly and licks across dry lips. The effort it takes him to stay conscious is apparent, manifests in the sluggish loll of his head.

You still grapple for something to say - a witty retort. An exclamation of relief. Anything. But nothing comes out.

"Thank Kevva, you're not dead," mutters Cee into your silence and earns a weak chuckle from Ezra. "'m not quite ready to turn up my toes to the daisies, little bird. Not after all the effort you put into savin' me."

You want to whack him, really. For scaring you. And her. For taking so long. For making you believe he is, in fact, dead. Instead, you laugh, short and relieved and watch him break into another smile. This one is warm and honest, if exhausted.

"You better stick to that, hear me?"

He frowns, gives a curt nod and tries to focus on you both, but fails. His eyes droop closed again and he breathes deep, remainders of dust rattling faintly.

"Promise," he murmurs. Then he's out cold again, face slack bar a hazy smile.

"Idiot," says Cee and she's definitely right about it.

[dgknightblue]

Funny scenario:

Law and Kid are unaware of a bet going on around them. They only know about rumors saying they are engaged/ dating.

Law is the only one in his crew without romantic experience. He’s never even had his first kiss.

His crew are the only ones aware of this fact.

Whenever someone expresses interest in him, they run interference in an attempt to protect him from people unworthy.

So the bet gets heated really quickly because Nami wants to win the reward money. She sees Law and Kid arguing and enacts a plan with Robin watching.

She begins to whisper things in his ear and he is confused before he starts arguing with Kid even more.

With kid in his face, law’s crew misinterprets that they are about to kiss. They run screaming for them to stop.

The conversation has law glaring at them, he is an adult that doesn’t need to be coddled. He can kiss whoever he wants.

Nami tries to get him to look in Kid’s direction, but Bepo is blocking him from view so Law doesn’t get the idea.

Eventually Zoro runs up to put a stop to it, Robin trying to cover his mouth but he mentions the bet and how he is not losing it. Then realize what he’s done and slowly places robins hands back over his mouth.

Law starts to hit a boiling point at the realization. They were betting on him. What kind of bet? He doesn’t care, he’s done.

His posture relaxes and and stares at them with blank eyes.

“Dr. Chopper.”

“Yeah?”

“We’re going shopping.”

“Really?”

“Yes, for coffins.”, he snarls.

“Wah- wait wait! How about we shop for herbs instead? I’m running low on-“, their voices fade as they walk a way.

Nami then finds out law has never kiss anyone before.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! That would have been a horrible nightmare!”

“I’m right here!”

“I know! That’s why, I shall make the sacrifice and kiss him instead. I’ll make sure he won’t have his heart broken. Kissing someone you’re not in love with hurt, but at least he won’t have to worry about anymore.” (She says something like this)

Zoro watch in horror. She runs off after them.

“She hasn’t given up…. She’s just trying to make him jealous…. She’s evil…. My condolences to Law’s first kiss, it will be Kid’s one way or another.”, zoro bows his head in respect for Law’s future loss.

“Not if… he’s dead.”, Law’s crew looks at kid.

“We may not be able to kill you… but we can try!”

Kid’s crew comes to his aid and Killer elbows Kid to get a grip. Kid shakes out of his stupor. What is happening right now?

Luffy is looking at all of them and is just like, “man I’m glad I don’t have to worry about that! I already had my first kiss.”

Dead silence.

“What?”

“Remember Sanji’s sister?”

Sanji stares at Luffy, “WHAT THE HXLL DID YOU DO TO MY SISTER YOU BXSTXRD???”

Brook tells Sanji how she saved Luffy and he’s still mad. Not as mad but still mad. That’s his sister. He has to fight for her honor somehow.

That’s what law’s crew is trying to do, protect law’s honor. So if they can’t attack kid, they’ll chase down law to keep an eye out.

Maybe work on a deal where they interview any candidates for Law’s partner.

How did this all happen? Law was invited to Baby 5’s wedding and he caught the bouquet. She spent two full months after her honeymoon trying to set him up.

How did Kid get into the equation? She noticed how close they were and assumed he had an unrequited crush and didn’t know that Kid was fawning over him too! Oh no! (How did she get that from them threatening to kill each other? Answer: she thought they were arguing because of jealousy)

Poor Law, he doesn’t know. Awe. Don’t worry! She’ll help! After all, he is destined to marry next!

She also figured since he didn’t have any interested in the girls she showed him marriage profiles of, he liked boys- specifically Kid when she noticed him aggravating him.

She thought it was like when little boys picked on the girls they like but with Law instead. She was not listening to anything else then. She had a mission.

I don’t know the specifics of the bet, but Nami needs Law and Kid to kiss to consider it a win. If Bepo wasn’t in the way! Ugh Law probably would have marched up to kid, pull him into a brief kiss and stomp a way angry!!!! Heart pirates!!! She’ll win that bet!!!

[monocaelia]

tending to their wounds

they cannot evade death. but with you around, they're invincible.

feat. albedo, childe, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, xiao

genre : headcanons, fluff, angst [for xiao and kazuha], hurt/comfort

warnings : blood and injury. death mention. minor cursing.

❀ albedo

it's to no one's surprise that albedo isn't human, meaning he doesn't have the same bodily functions as the others in mondstadt do. his body cannot bleed nor can he feel much pain. that's not to say he can't at all, but a simple prick from a piece of shattered flask can't really do the young alchemist any harm.

flasks breaking or nicking himself while conducting his own research never really phased the alchemist. despite the warnings his assistant gave him about laboratory safety, he didn't need to heed them if the injuries didn't apply to him, did he?

it's safe to say that the chief alchemist is... perplexed to say the least at seeing you worry over him. he wasn't expecting you to come rushing through his laboratory door when you heard the sound of falling glass and nearly climbed over all of his equipment to come to his aid.

"really, you shouldn't have to worry," his gentle voice reassures you, but his attempts to calm you down are futile. instead, albedo is met with your furrowed brows in concentration and your fingers brushing against his as you inspect his invisible wounds.

"yeah well, maybe if you were more careful in your laboratory i wouldn't be here worrying over you, would i?" albedo sighs at your response and decides to let you do as you please to his 'injuries.'

the alchemist's teal eyes follow your movements as you reach for the bandages in the first aid kit and begin to wrap them around his finger tips. he doesn't miss the way your tongue pokes out from between your lips as you concentrate on the task in front of you.

despite not needing to worry much about him, albedo finds it endearing that you care so much about his wellbeing. how much you care about him, how often you check up on him and make sure he never overworks himself. you truly are a caring individual, a ray of warm sunshine in his life.

you meet albedo's gaze when your name leaves his lips, eyes filled with curiosity at what he could possibly want.

"thank you for tending to me." he thanks you with tender smile on his face, his spare hand gently ruffling your hair. the flustered expression on your face is hard to miss, especially when you quickly duck your head down and away from the alchemist.

you stutter out that 'this is nothing!' and continue on wrapping albedo's faux injuries. though, the alchemist finds the way your hands shake as they brush against his skin adorable.

❀ childe

childe is a war criminal, in case you missed it. it's not uncommon to find the young man fighting an entire hoard of enemies by himself. the thrill of battle never seems to be enough for him, as he constantly seeks anything that could satiate his need for exhilaration.

finding scars or fresh injuries on the harbinger is the usual for you, regardless of whether or not they're shallow wounds or deep gashes that gush blood and stain your poor floor. not that childe minds anyways, he sees his battle scars as medals of the many fights he has won and wears them with pride.

but, despite being one of the fatui harbingers and an absolute beast on the battlefield, that doesn't stop you from worrying about his wellbeing.

your brows furrow in concern at the sight of childe in front of you; body worn from using his foul legacy form one too many times in succession and injuries sustained from his earlier fight. he shouldn't have protected you, really you could have protected yourself. and yet...

"you're going to ruin yourself if you keep going into your other form all the time, you know." childe laughs weakly at your lecturing; that's all he can do right now anyways. you catch your lip in between your teeth as you rub a cooling ointment on the harbinger's body. "this isn't funny. you can't just die. then no one would be the eleventh harbinger and you-"

"i would leave you alone?" childe smiles when you send him a glare. his rough hand finds yours, squeezing it lightly in reassurance. there's not a chance in the world that he would succumb to death just yet. childe is still young, and there are many others that he hasn't had the pleasure of fighting against.

and he sure as abyss can’t pass away without saying how he truly feels about you.

you grumble to the snezhnayan that you could've handled it all alone, that you didn't need him to go all berserk on the ruin guards that had surrounded you earlier. instead, childe laughs and places a weak hand on your forearm. "i know, but that was the perfect time to show you just how well i can fight. maybe then, you'll finally accept my feelings."

a white lie, really. even though childe knows that you could've handled it yourself, he acted on instinct back then. the thought of you being harmed in any way sends a chill down the harbinger's spine. he wouldn't forgive himself if he reacted a second too late and you ended up hurt as a consequence.

what's the point of harboring the power of the abyss if he couldn't protect the ones he loved.

you roll your eyes at his answer, choosing to quietly resume cleaning up childe's wounds in hopes that he doesn't say anything more embarrassing. as your fingers brush against the snezhnayan's freckled skin, you don't miss the way he leans towards your touch and the happy hum rumbling from his chest.

❀ diluc

the darknight hero is not one to lose his battles, let alone allow any of his enemies lay a finger on him. trained by the knights and his own father, diluc's fighting style is difficult to intercept and finding a weak spot in his defense is futile. even if his sword is too slow, his fists will be glad to meet those that oppose him.

that isn't to say he doesn't get hurt every now and then. you've caught him with bandages wrapped around his hand, blood soaked gauze around his torso. as long as the job was done, diluc didn't mind the wounds he received in battle.

he isn't used to others tending to his wounds, as nobody really knows he's the darknight hero and protects mondstadt in the middle of the night. so when you catch him in the act of cleaning his wounds and offer to help, he kind of freezes up.

diluc wants to decline your offer, sure that he could finish this up by himself. and besides, he doesn't want to burden you with his consequences so late at night. but he knows you would keep bugging him and complain later that he didn't "love you" or whatever dramatic act you'd be committing in the near future.

it's hard to look at you when you're so close to the red haired vigilante. granted, diluc has always been pretty close with you, seeing as the two of you grew up together and shared most of your memories with one another (and kaeya).

but being physically close to you... is another story. your fingers lightly touching his skin, your face so close to his as you inspect other wounds on his body, your hands roaming the expanse of his chest to remove his shirt in case it hid any other injuries you could have missed.

diluc's hands twitch when you inch even closer to him. if he wanted to, it would take one swift movement to have his lips on yours. one swift movement to hold you in his arms and feel the way your skin melts into his.

but the vigilante has self-control and would rather die than make you uncomfortable.

diluc releases a shaky breath when you finally move away from his body, though it's only a brief moment of respite since you immediately move back into your previous position after grabbing more bandages. absolutely perfect for the poor vigilante.

he clears his throat when your hands slide down his arms to reassure the pressure is enough to keep his wounds from reopening and bleeding out. it is then that you realize what you've been doing to the poor red haired man and how close you've been to him and his body.

"oh? what could you possibly be thinking about, mr. ragnvindr?" you tease, raising an eyebrow and sending diluc a playful smile. you fail to suppress your laughter when he scrunches up his face and turns his face away from you, his ears burning a wonderful shade of bright pink.

"i think it's time for you to leave." shocked, you try and apologize and get him to let you stay a little bit more. the night is still young, and he still has more injuries to be looked at! but diluc pays you no mind.

not like he'd have the heart to actually kick you out of his room anyways.

❀ kaeya

the captain of the calvary isn't one to fight, always looking for people to do his dirty work so he doesn't have to. why bother exerting more energy than you already have when you can make others do it for you? it's more fun that way, anyways.

that doesn't mean kaeya is incapable of fighting. if needed to, the blue haired captain would gladly point his sword at the enemy to keep them at bay or spar a fellow knight. scratches and shallow scrapes are what you mostly see from him.

you aren't expecting to be called into the knights of favonius headquarters and be greeted by the calvary captain battered up and bruised in the infirmary.

"you're squeezing me too hard," kaeya comments nonchalantly, as if he isn't bleeding to death on the bed right now. "you'll cut off circulation in my arm if you keep doing that." you shoot him a glare, but the blue haired captain only laughs at you. you tighten the bandage on his arm.

you refuse to get tangled up in anymore of kaeya's antics. it's all his fault you've aged ten years because of him and his stupid actions and refusing to ask for help despite the mission being bigger than anyone could handle. alone at least. it's not like you don't trust him, but a little extra help isn't bad to have.

your frown deepens when your eyes flit up to stare at the blood soaked shirt covering kaeya's chest. you order him to take it off so you can inspect his injury, which was a mistake on your part.

"oh? shouldn't you ask me on a date first before being this forward?" kaeya's laughter rings around the infirmary seeing your deadpan expression at his joke. maybe you should just leave, just leave this stupid man to bleed to death on this infirmary bed. maybe then you would finally be at peace.

"well. maybe i would have asked you on a date if you weren't so stupid to take this dumb mission alone. you could have died, asshole." kaeya only hums in response, which pisses you off even more. it's like he didn't have a care in the world.

in the midst of your grumblings and cleaning of kaeya's wounds, you miss the tender look he gives you; warm and gentle. the captain finds it nice to have someone care for someone like him after so long.

it wasn’t his fault he wanted to do this alone. well, it was, but it’s hard for kaeya to rely on others and be vulnerable to those around him despite how long he’s known them. his walls are built high, refusing to let anybody in in case he accidentally hurts them in the future.

he wonders if you'd miss him if he disappeared one day, but the way your brows furrow in concern at seeing how bad the gash in his chest confirms his answer.

kaeya’s endearing, warm smile is replaced with the usual smug smirk when you look up to meet his gaze. one day, he hopes he’ll be able to let his walls down around you.

"you know, you're really cute when you worry over me. maybe i should get injured more often." the look of shock at kaeya's comment is evident on your flustered face and it takes everything in him to not laugh and open up his wounds again.

❀ kazuha

kazuha isn't one to easily get injured, well at least seriously injured. he was raised by a prestigious family, trained in the arts of the kaedehara clan. with the help of his prior knowledge of fighting and his keen senses, it's hard to one-up the young man to the point of injury.

that isn't to say he has never sustained any injuries. there have been one too many times that the inazuman traveller has shown up at your door with a couple of scrapes and an apologetic smile on his face.

so, it's a surprise when you find kazuha at your doorstep severely injured and clutching something in his burned hand.

it's quiet between the two of you as your eyes scan kazuha's body for any more injuries and your hands quickly move to tend to his right hand. the skin is burnt, bleeding, and his fingers shake from the injuries it sustained.

you whisper an apology to the inazuman when you gently clean the wounded skin with a warm cloth. he doesn't flinch, dazed eyes still staring off in front of you. it makes you wonder what kazuha went through to be injured this badly. though, seeing as the only serious injury was his right hand, you assumed it wasn't from a fight.

"kazuha... what happened to you?" your words are gentle, afraid your voice would scare the inazuman traveller in front of you. kazuha doesn't respond and instead tightens the grip he has on your hand that's bandaging him. his hand is shaking, and you don't realize he's crying until you feel the wet teardrops on your skin.

ruby eyes glazed with tears meet your own when your eyes flick up to confirm that he was indeed crying.

"tomo..." the crack in his voice shatters your heart and you find yourself pulling kazuha into your arms. his own circle around you and his hands grip onto the back of your shirt as he buries his face into your shoulder.

kazuha's body shakes as he sobs at the loss of his friend. he must have held it in until he got to the safety of your home. you were always his safe haven; coming over so you could tend his light wounds and provide a roof over his head if he was passing by your village.

and yet all you can do now is hold him until the storm inside his heart passes by.

❀ xiao

being in pain or having many injuries litter the expanse of his skin isn't unusual for xiao. he's an adeptus whose sole purpose is to serve rex lapis and protect the citizens of liyue, even if it meant throwing his life away.

even then, sustaining larger, more painful wounds didn't make the adeptus bat an eye. despite how horrible it sounds, xiao is used to it all and takes each hit and laceration that comes his way without blinking an eye.

when karmic debt constantly takes a toll against your health and death is the only solution to reaching true peace, it's hard to care about the state of your own wellbeing.

so imagine xiao's surprise when he shows up at the wangshu inn battered and bruised from dealing with a hoard of monsters and seeing you standing in the yaksha's usual spot, waiting for him with a frown etched into your face.

nimble fingers work deftly against xiao's body, quickly cleaning up the lacerations on the adeptus' chest and the scrapes that cover his arms. xiao releases a hiss from the sting of the medicine and you apologize under your breath.

"i knew you would end up like this." your words come out harsher than you intend to. the adeptus doesn't respond. as long as he was the only casualty to come out of this, as long as the innocent lives of liyuens were protected, as long as you were safe behind the walls of the wangshuu inn, it didn't matter how badly his body was injured.

"i just... i just wished you weren't so careless, xiao." the way your voice breaks doesn't go unheard by the yaksha. his eyes snap forward, but your head is tilted down as your shaky fingers worked their way around xiao's torso. "you're always fighting as if no one cared if you died or disappeared one day."

xiao doesn't get it. he doesn't understand why you care about him so much. a being fated to suffer until his dying days are over, one cursed with karmic debt and forced to carry the burdens of the innocent lives he took in his past.

no one should care about him. a monster with blood on his hands.

but here you are, shedding tears for an adeptus who didn't deserve it. the sole yaksha who is fated to succumb to the sweet embrace of death at any given moment.

and yet, despite knowing he doesn't deserve your gentle touch brushing over his wounds, the young adeptus lifts your face with a gloved finger and brushes away the tears that flow down your cheeks. he longs to continue holding you, to feel your skin against his. you're his temporary solace from the karmic debt that hangs over his heart.

an apology slips past xiao's lips, and you cry harder, calling him 'stupid' for almost dying out there. you bury yourself in his chest and he hugs you, afraid that if he let go, you would be nothing but a dream.

[suna-reversed]

Talking to the moon🌙

Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

minors DNI‼️

3k+ words

(quote^^ by- Richard Siken)

warnings/tags- blood and violence. oral (f.recieving), vaginal sex, anal, dacryphilia, slight praise, slight degradation, fingering. age gap. toxic relationship. mentions of harassment. yandere themes implied. heartbreak, moving on. fluff. angst. hurt/comfort. (all characters are aged up!)

Gojo Satoru is the moon. Ever changing and radiant. Beaming with light, even when he doesn't have any of his own. And much like the moon, parts of him stay hidden in an ominous darkness as he leaves you cold and alone in the tangled mess of sheets, wondering why your lover disappears at the crack of every dawn.

You had met him a while ago when he had first come into the bakery you worked at part-time, dazzling pearls on show as he ordered every single flavour of mochi off the menu. You didn’t know where it started; how the simple exchanges turned into conversations that lasted up to hours, your manager practically having to shoo him away so that you’d stop getting distracted.

You got used to him visiting you in the day during work, sitting on the barstool near the bakery counter, talking your ear off about the most random of things while he stuffed his face with mochi. You sometimes wondered how you happened to have so much in common with a man so much more older than you. 

You couldn't exactly remember how those innocent conversations turned into you being splayed across the marble kitchen countertop of your apartment at 3 am, the joyous man now turned into a ferocious beast as he devoured you whole, holding your legs apart, tongue licking in between your folds with such fervour that made it seem as if it was the last meal of his life. 

In all honesty, you didn’t know a lot about him, except for the fact that he worked at a private institute and often travelled overseas. He’d be as silent as a mouse as he slipped out of your place before sunrise each time. He never told you why, and eventually you stopped asking- the warmth and comfort of his body too addictive to have to give up for the question of ‘what are we?’ being answered.

On days that you’d find yourself waking up early, you’d simply let your eyes roam over the muscles of his back, adoring the dimples at the bottom of his spine, memorising each blemish, scar and mark as if you’d never see it again. You sometimes found yourself wishing he’d take off the peculiar fabric covering his eyes- your mind could barely fathom the shade of his orbs.

You knew that he was always aware of you being awake. But he didn’t acknowledge it, whether by accident or choice, you could never tell. So every time he’d finish pulling his shirt over his head, you’d roll away, focusing your mind out the window on the half disappearing moon instead of the crushing weight on your chest. 

Perhaps, this was the love they never told you about. The love that wasn’t afternoon picnics and obnoxious public displays of affection. The love that wasn’t late night grocery runs and feeding each other food at cafes.

Instead, this was the love that had you deleting messages and cleaning up the strands of ashy hair from your shower drain. The love that had you lying to your friends about the marks on your neck and pretending like he didn’t just have you pinned down beneath him the night before as you served him coffee.

Every morning that you woke up alone in bed, sore and unclothed from the events of the previous night, you found yourself thinking of ways that you’d turn him away the next time he showed up at your door. But then the bell would ring, and your feet would be carrying you to the half broken man covered in bruises and blood before you could think of it.

This time, you’re sure you tell him to go away, to stop treating you as if you were some toy, slamming the door in his crestfallen face. But then why do you find yourself clutching onto his scarlet stained jacket in the bathroom? The first aid box discarded to the side as you sob into his chest, a hand stroking your hair as he assures you he’s fine. 

That night, you find him buried deep inside of you, your heavy breathing filling the silence of the air, your back to his chest. The arms around you feel unbearably tight as he pulls you even closer to him. Why is he trying to snatch all the warmth from your body?

The hot breath of his mouth is right next to your ear. He’s telling you he wants to be tender and merciful while his teeth are digging into your jugular, the hand around your throat tightening as his hips rut into you harder. He does not wipe away the tears flowing freely down your face.

The next morning, you find a burning sensation rising in your chest as you stare at the empty space next to you; his underlying scent of strawberries and citrus still lingering.

What had you been expecting? Why would this night have been different from any other?

That question is answered when you realise the unfamilair feeling of a cold metal wrapped around your ankle while climbing out of bed. Looking down, you see that it's a thin silver anklet with two charms hanging off of it.

His initials and a crescent moon.

You can’t help the smile that’s on your face for the rest of the day.

--------

You're panting, the drumming of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, vision blurring as you try to make it back home. You’re gripping onto the walls to keep yourself from falling, the pain in your body near unbearable as you somehow manage to unlock the door, not even making it past the entrance as you crumble apart right there, curling in on yourself as broken sobs leave your chest. 

The sound of footsteps has you shutting your eyes, flinching from the pain and fear of knowing you can’t fight. The terror of your attacker being in your home makes your cries even louder.

Instead, you find your senses being flooded by the familiar scent of strawberries and the cologne that you bought him- warm muscular arms come to wrap around your figure, lifting you up. You’re still crying as he settles you down onto the bed, gently pulling your hands away from your face.

He lifts your shirt to reveal the expanse of wounds littered across your abdomen. An unreadable expression remains on his face as he skillfully cleans off the blood, fixing you up like you’ve done for him a dozen times. You don’t remember telling him where you were injured. Could the blood be seen through your shirt? None of it matters as he pushes you back down onto the plush mattress, your eyes fluttering close you as fall into a deep fitful slumber. 

It’s a full moon tonight, the light cascading through your window providing you an odd sense of comfort. You turn over in the dark, gasping a little as your eyes lock onto a pair of strange azure ones. Your mind is still heavy from the medicines you took, perhaps that’s why you don’t react, simply staring into the unfamiliar eyes on a face that you recognised better than the back of your own hand.

His slender pale fingers are trailing over the skin of your abdomen. Shouldn't it hurt more? A hand comes up to your face, gently cradling your chin as he examines the scratch on your jaw. Your heart skips a beat as his soft lips press a chaste kiss onto your brow. His voice is low and tense, anger barely restrained as he asks,

“Who did this to you?”

You try to form a response, but all you can hear is the shallow echo of the beating of your half-dead heart. Your chest feels hollow as words finally rise to the tip of your tongue, eyes dry as you tell him all of it. How a strange force had pinned you against a wall when you were walking back home, how the man who appeared from the shadows of the dark alley didn’t even lift a finger, yet it felt like each bone in your body was being cracked apart. How you barely felt the pain of the broken bottle that impaled your flesh as you were thrown aside, the stranger parting from you with just four words,

“Consider this a warning.”

You don’t care how crazy you sound as you explain the bizarre events that occurred. You don’t care that his orbs are as blue and twice as deep as the mariana trench. You don’t care that for once, his eyes hold something other than just lust as he looks at you.

Your throat feels raw by the time you finish, and it hurts to look at his pitiful face so you roll onto your side, fixing your eyes on the shimmering celestial body outside your window. You both lay in silence for a while.

“I liked thinking of you as the moon at times.”

The calm in your voice startles Gojo, but he remains quiet, wanting you to continue. It doesn’t matter if it's gibberish, doesn't matter if it’s words of hatred, of doubt, of regret; he’ll take it as long as there’s something- as long as you’re speaking. His arms tremble around you a little as a bitter laugh escapes your chest. 

“But at the end of the day,” you pause, taking a deep breath, “...all I am, is a mere star in a galaxy full of constellations.”

The raw sob that rips from your chest is a surprise to both you and Gojo.

“Tell me who cares about a star that burns out and explodes?” your voice is barely above a whisper as you turn around to face him.

For once in his life, Gojo Satoru can’t joke, fight or fuck his way out of a situation. A strange weight has been on his chest ever since he saw your eyes. The light and joy stripped out of them as he found himself staring back at his own reflection. 

His eyes glance down at the dip of your collarbone, the arch of your shoulder that he wanted to reside in forever, now covered in small scars. He knows who hurt you. 

He pulls you closer to him, tangling his feet with yours, the strip of metal around your ankle clinking at the movement. Perhaps it was a huge mistake to have bought you something so carelessly, knowing that the eyes of a few dozen enemies followed him wherever he went. 

He finds himself at a loss for words, opting to convey his emotions through touch instead as he melds his lips with yours. You sigh into his mouth and he kisses you even deeper, almost desperately as if trying to pass over his own breaths to you- as if trying to bring you back to life. He finds the taste of salt on his tongue and the wet drops falling onto his cheeks makes his flesh burn. He doesn't know whose they are as he continues to try and cling onto the shell of what was once a whole person. 

“Please” he finds himself mumbling as he pulls you even closer, heart cracking as you continue sniffing into his chest. 

“It hurts- it hurts- so much” You’re sobbing now, his own body shaking in tandem with yours.

Who is he to deny you when you look up at him, the broken plea leaving your mouth, 

“Make it stop please.”

---

Gojo finds the cold metal of his own initials pressing against the side of his face as he hoists your legs over his shoulder. His fingers are pressing down against your sensitive nub, spreading around your slick before he pumps two of his fingers into you. You buck your hips up, cries escaping you as his tongue licks your clit, suctioning it into his mouth as he increases the pace of his fingers.

You’re cumming undone within seconds, begging him to fill you up. He’s never so easily given in to your demands, but tonight, it’s as if he’s only there to serve your wishes. The sickening thought of getting hurt again just so that you’d get this treatment creeps up in the back of your mind. 

You moan as you feel him line his thick girth with your entrance, the tip catching onto your sensitive bundle of nerves as he rubs it between your dripping heat. He leans forward, pushing your legs up and safely tucking them against your chest, before crashing his lips against yours. It’s messy and rushed; tongue against tongue, spit drooling out as he pushes himself inside of you in one long stroke. The burn of it has you groaning into his mouth, hands moving to tangle into his hair. His thrusts are deep and angled, the feeling of it settling deep in your belly. 

“Fuck- you look so-fucking-pretty underneath me like this”

His words of praise are muffled against your lips, further drowned out by your moans as one of his hands moves down to play with your clit. You’re screaming his name as the coil in your stomach snaps, his own restraint breaking as he finishes, painting your walls with his seed. 

It’s not the first time you find yourself screaming and moaning that night. His cock is inside of you in one way or the other through the entirety of the next few hours- whether it be deep down your throat as his hands pull your hips down to his face, moaning at the taste of himself leaking from your cunt - or stretching the walls of your puckered asshole, the lube he pumped in with his slender fingers dripping out as he presses you to the shower wall, a hand coming forward to fondle your tits as his face falls onto your shoulder, grunting into your ear while he pistons in and out of your tight hole. 

You can barely move a muscle by the time you’re done, body and mind numb from both the exhaustion and overstimulation as he pulls the covers over the two of you, limbs entangled with each other’s, skin against skin, his hands rubbing circles onto your spine.

“No one’s ever going to hurt you again.” 

You’re barely conscious as he whispers that, humming and burying your face deeper into his cozy heat as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You do not notice the solemn drop of moisture that escapes his eye, falling onto your cheek, a thumb brushing it away just as quickly, as if it was never there. Just as he wishes he could brush away his own existence from your life- no- just as he was going to.

“...I promise.”

---

When your eyes flutter open, they are not met with the moon.

Instead, the light of the rising sun casts a rosy hue across your room. And for once, you do not feel cold as you spread out your legs to take more of the space on the expanse of your empty bed. The sunlight does not feel like a curse anymore, even if the nostalgia of the moon’s glow stays buried somewhere deep in your heart. 

But at least there’s no more crying going to bed alone each night; no more hours of scrolling through social media looking for someone who doesn’t exist; no more one night stands and low grade hookups trying to fulfil the ever-growing void in your heart. 

In fact, you find yourself going out more, singing along to songs in the shower once again, even making friends with a regular trio that starts coming into your bakery every other day. They told you they’re college students too, all around your age, and you find yourself smiling a little more than necessary at one of them, even if a pair of ocean eyes floods the back of your mind each time that you do. You’re still hurting and healing, but at least you are moving forward. 

“At least he kept his promise”  You find yourself thinking as you climb out of bed, sighing in disappointment at the clinking of charms around your ankle. 

—-

“At least I kept my promise.” 

It had become Gojo’s new-found mantra. Every time he saw you drunk out of your mind at a bar, deftly bribing the bartender to replace your ordered shots with water instead. Every time he saw a random body pressed to yours, their tongue exploring your sweet mouth as you pushed them into your apartment. And especially that one time he found himself standing over the half-beaten body of the man who had tried to grope you on the bus. 

“At least I kept my promise- at least she’s safe.”

He knew his actions were of a mad man. Even though he took care of the problem which had hurt you in the first place, he still found himself paranoid. Following you around every other night, making sure you were still here- still alive under the same sky as him, under the same sun and moon and stars. He told himself he was doing it for you- even if he found his heart swell every time he saw the familiar glint of the silver trinket around your ankle.

-----

“No way!” You find yourself laughing around a mouth full of mochi.  

“No- I swear he likes you, he just doesn't want to admit it, you know how he-” 

“What are you two talking about?”

You both immediately snap your mouths shut as he returns from the restroom, sliding into the seat on his side of the booth. 

“Nothing!” you reply in unison. 

“Anyways, do you want me to get you anything else? Something that this idiot wouldn't shove into my mouth?” You joke, tapping your pen against the notepad. 

“Hey! I just wanted you to taste how delicious the mochi was!”

“I know- I made it!”

A loud cough breaks your banter with the light haired boy, 

“I-I do actually want to ask for something”

“Of course, what can I get you? The ginger tea you like?”

“Well- what I want is-” he pauses, and you don’t miss the mischievous glint in the eyes of his friend sitting across the table. 

“I’d like to take you to the festival at the park.”

You’re halfway through writing it down on the notepad before you realise what he’s asked, your head snapping up to see the slightly flushed tint on his cheeks as he glares at the howling boy across the table. Your own face heats up as he looks towards you expectantly. 

“You don’t have to if you-”

“Pick me up at 4”

“Oh” butterflies race in your stomach at the smile that he gives you, “...okay, 4 it is.” 

------

Weeks go by and you don’t realise the slow mending of your heart. Your broken pieces coming together each time he holds your hand, each time he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, each time he whispers words of affirmations into your ear, and each time he comforts your shaking body, apologising for kissing your brow- even if he doesn’t understand why it made you cry. 

Eventually, you learn to not mind being just a mere star in the vast expanse of the cosmo.

You didn’t care because he looked at you like you held the universe in your eyes, cradling your face with such gentleness as if you were precious china. You didn’t care because when his lips came down onto yours, it felt like the collision of stars- your own little supernovae in the curve of his cupid’s bow. You didn’t care because when you woke up, you’d find him peppering kisses across the purple constellations he left the night before. 

You didn’t care because you never woke up cold and alone anymore.

------

“I’ll be back in just a second.” 

You find yourself saying as you move your head off his lap, waving to your other two friends, their own counterparts lounging beside them. 

“Is everything okay?’ 

He’s always so tender- except for when he has you splayed across the bed on your stomach, hips thrusting into yours as he tells you what a good slut you are for him- just for him. Heat crawls up your face at the memory from a few nights ago. The fingers wrapping your hand snap your mind out of its perverse refuge. Looking down, you find concern-filled eyes staring back at you. 

“Yeah, I just want to take a walk alone by the beach- get some air.” You reply, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips.  

The sound of the waves lapping against the shore in the dark and the fresh sea breeze on your face is refreshing. You make a mental note to thank Nobara for dragging you onto this trip. You stop as you find a cozy spot in the sand, giving you a perfect view of the moonlit sea.

You don’t know how long you sit there, thinking of a particular set of emerald eyes and long lashes, your smile faltering as the promise ring on your finger grazes the forgotten metal on your ankle. Your face remains neutral as you unhook it, even if it feels like cutting your own hand off, but that’s all there is to it - familiarity and nostalgia. There’s no blackhole in your chest, ready to open up and swallow you whole, there are no tears shed as you bury the piece of junk into the sand, and there is no looking back as you walk away, back into the arms of your precious ‘gumi. 

Gojo stands at the rooftop, one hand clutching the sand covered jewellery, the other pulling down a side of his blindfold as he watches you entangle yourself in the arms of another, laughing as he places a kiss on the top of your brow. You’re happy, that’s all that matters- still, the irony of the situation pricks at him - especially after all he did to keep you away from his world. 

He had initially found himself at a loss for words when you had told him that he was the moon, and you, just a star. If you were to ask him again, Gojo would agree, but with only half of it.

He may have been the moon, but you were a galaxy full of stars and planets that harboured dreams and wishes he could never fathom. His mind kept flickering back to the constellations he littered your body with as he now watched his own disciple press kisses into the crook of your neck. 

Nonetheless, he found his own lips twitching upwards- almost tragically, but the warmth in his chest was real as he saw the joy on your face. You were right; he was the moon after all. He had shone as bright as the sun itself despite not having any light of his own. Now he stood there watching the same light reflect off the dark-haired boy who held you in his arms, and suddenly, it all made sense.

Perhaps he should have found another way back then. Perhaps he shouldn’t have underestimated his ability to be able to protect you. Perhaps- 

it didn’t matter now. 

perhaps at the end of the day, the moon was nothing but a dreamer.

© suna-reversed — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated.

[martyrmurdock]

𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃

♡ pairing: frank castle x gn reader

♡ word count: 1k

♡ tags: fluff, bruises, mentions of blood, baby and frankie used as pet names for frank, sweetheart used as a pet name for reader

the click of your front door’s doorknob turning does little to rouse you from your slumber. you barely shift in your sleep at the quiet disturbance that echoes throughout your apartment. it’s only when the careful steps of heavy boots hitting your hardwood floor infiltrate your peaceful dreaming that you begin to wake.

slowly, you crack your eyes and sleepily rub at them with the heel of your palms, attempting to wake yourself more. you should be more concerned by the noise- by the fact that someone is obviously in your home in the middle of the night- but the sound is one that’s familiar to you. it suddenly stops completely when your bed loudly creaks beneath your weight as you shift into a sitting position.

the sound starts up once more, increasing in volume as the person in your apartment approaches your bedroom door that hangs ajar. their shadowy silhouette, large and imposing, is softened by the warm lights that line your hallway.

the shadowy figure comes closer to you. with each step they take, they become further engulfed by the only cover of night. you squint to make out the outline of their face.

it’s difficult to see through the dark shroud of night, but you have a feeling you know who the stranger is. you guess they’re not really such a stranger if they have a key to your apartment.

“frankie, that you?” you murmur, still trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes. your comforter pools around your hips as you straighten up and lean back against your headboard.

the figure pauses by your bedside.

“yeah, it’s me, sweetheart.”

you reach over and flick the lamp that rests on your nightstand on, so you can see frank better. the sudden flood of light is harsh on your eyes, but it doesn’t take long for them to adjust to the change. when you turn your head away from your lamp, you audibly gasp when you see the state that frank’s in.

to put it lightly, he looks like shit. specks of dried blood and mottled bruises litter the expanse of his face. there are tears and rips in his dirtied black jacket and pants. in places, the material of his clothes is darker than usual- stained with more blood.

you only hope that none of it is frank’s.

you stretch your arms out, beckoning frank nearer. he obeys your silent demand, coming as close as he can without touching your bed, and leans over. gently, you cup frank’s face with your hands. your thumbs ghost over his cheeks, taking the utmost care to not provoke his wounds or injure him any further.

“you alright, baby? need me to patch you up?” you softly question. your first aid skills are rudimentary at best, but you’ve picked up some things since you’ve been with frank.

“i’m alright,” he replies. your brows slightly pinch together. you don’t believe him. “it looks worse than it actually is. blood ain’t all mine.”

your doubtful expression fades away and morphs into a relieved one. before meeting frank, you never would have thought that hearing that statement would bring you so much comfort.

“okay, baby,” you say, trusting that frank is telling you the truth. you lean in and gently brush your lips over the bruised bridge of his nose. frank doesn’t flinch at the action, (hopefully) meaning that he isn’t too banged up. either that or he’s purposely suppressing a reaction for your benefit and peace of mind. “you wanna go wash up? there’s a set of clean clothes that you can wear in my drawer somewhere.”

“think i will. thank you, sweetheart.” a semblance of a smile graces frank’s lips before he disappears in the direction of your restroom.

once frank’s left the bedroom, you lie back down and pull your fallen covers back up to your chin. as you hear the sound of the shower head turning on, you lower your head to lay against the plush of your pillow and close your eyes. you decide that you’ll just rest your eyes while you wait for frank.

you must have drifted off back to sleep because the next time you wake, the bed is straining under frank’s weight.

“didn’t mean to wake you,” frank whispers as he lifts up the edge of the covers to crawl under them. as soon as he’s fully under them, you roll over onto your side and shuffle closer to frank. you make a content noise when he wraps a large arm around your upper half and pulls you to his chest.

“it’s all right,” you mumble. through lidded eyes, you peer up at frank. your fingers gently run over the slopes of his face, mindful of his injuries. his face is free of blood now, leaving behind only the darkening bruises that stand out against his fair skin. “you’re so handsome, baby.”

his chest rumbles and a faint smile pulls at his lips. your thumb glides over the cut splitting his lower lip. it’s beginning to scab over already. “you talkin’ about this ugly mug?”

you frown at frank’s remark. you know it’s lighthearted, but you won’t let him talk about himself like that. you slide your hands up his chest and rest them beneath his strong jaw, gently tilting his head to face you. “don’t say that.” a deep crease forms between your brows. “you’re so pretty, frankie.”

he lightly chuckles at your serious expression and stern tone. you’re cute when you’re sleepy. “sorry, sweetheart. won’t say it again,” frank says, not wanting to rile you up too much. he already feels a little guilty for waking you up and making you lose sleep because of him.

“good,” you murmur, satisfied with frank’s response. a wave of tiredness suddenly crashes upon you. it’s way too late to be awake. you close your eyes again and bury your face into frank’s neck, clutching at the front of his shirt with loose fists. “now, let’s go to sleep.”

a huff of amusement escapes frank at your abrupt change in topic.

by the time frank whispers a quiet good night to you and pulls you a little closer to him, you’re already fast asleep.

[tsukishumai]

pairing: tsukishima kei x f!reader wc; 2.2k tags; fluff, coworkers to lovers? a/n: quick fic for my bby lol happy birthday tsukki <33

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tsukishima Kei was tired.

Stepping out into the cold, autumn evening, he rubs his hands together in an attempt to warm his frozen fingers. He thinks the blister he feels forming on his pinky toe was a sign for him to get a new pair of shoes, and this fact was solidified by the ache in his arch with each step he took towards the bus stop.

The day had been longer than most. Maybe if he hadn’t let his brother drag him to the gym and play pick-up games last night, then perhaps his body wouldn’t have felt so sore this morning. And if his body hadn’t been so sore in the morning, then he might have had the energy to grab coffee before work, possibly even pack himself a quick lunch. His mood would have presumably been at least mildly better throughout the day, and he had no doubt that he would have been able to continue on with his work swiftly, and efficiently.

But Tsukishima had learned at a young age that things don’t always work out for him the way he wants them to.

He wasn’t trying to be rude when you came to ask him about his tour schedule, but did you have to burst through his office door so loudly? He felt bad for 2.3 seconds as he watched your smile slowly melt into a frown, but he was way too irked when you rolled your eyes at him when he asked you to knock.

And it wasn’t his fault that he bought the last tuna onigiri from the food stand outside the museum. He forgot to pack lunch, and he was hungry, too. He probably shouldn’t have unwrapped and eaten it right in front of your face, but he doesn’t appreciate getting dirty looks for ordering a meal.

You’re newer to the museum, he knows that. As someone with seniority, he should be a little more helpful, and he could probably work on improving his sociability just a tiny bit, but his patience could only run so thin. It’s not like you ever listened to him anyway.

Should he have told you to figure out the volunteer’s schedule on your own because ‘even a monkey with a banana could do it on their own’? Okay, maybe not.

But did you have to snap at him to ‘keep the stick up his own ass and leave yours alone’ when he warned your tours took too long, and you’d end up leaving late? No, and that’s the last time Tsukishima will ever try to offer advice to a newbie.

Tsukishima sighed. He was tired.

His stomach growled out loud as he pressed the button for the crosswalk, slowly moving to rub his palm along his belly. He’s wondering if he has anything he could make at his apartment. When an image of a rotting bunch of scallions and moldy tomatoes dying in his refrigerator drawer comes to mind, he thinks he’s probably better off grabbing a bento from the convenience store down the street.

The light switches from red to green, and just before Tsukishima steps down from the curb, he feels an arm delicately wrap around his own.

“Hey, babe,” a familiar, annoyingly cheery voice greets him, and he has to stop himself from grimacing when he looks down and his eyes meet yours.

Tsukishima doesn’t think you’ve ever touched him once — not in the last six months since you’ve become his coworker. He had bowed when you were first introduced, and Tsukishima had never been one to hand out hugs or high fives.

He attributes the deep blush that spread across his cheeks to this fact, and not to the feeling of your chest pressed tightly against his side.

“What the —“

“You almost left without me,” you pouted, and Tsukishima nearly tripped over his feet when you swing your body around to switch positions with him, “You’re so silly!”

“Uh,” Tsukishima stammers at the situation at hand, but he stills when he feels your grip tighten painfully around his bicep, and your eyes narrow and widen.

From behind your shoulder, Tsukishima sees it.

The streets were not too crowded, but they weren’t empty. From both sides of the sidewalk, Tsukishima watched as people silently walked past each other in a valiant effort to get home.

This was why Tsukishima almost didn’t notice the man standing beside the lamp post just fifteen feet back, his face half covered by a mask, hoodie pulled all the way over his head with the bill of a black hat just peeking out.

Tsukishima’s blood ran cold when he realized the man is watching you clutch onto him, and Tsukishima does not react when he can feel your nails dig through the material of his sweater.

A look of panic briefly flashes in your eyes when Tsukishima places his hand on top of yours and gently pulls your grip off his sleeve.

“You’re going to ruin my sweater,” Tsukishima mumbles as he drags his hand down the length of your arm and intertwines his fingers with yours. Your mouth drops open in shock when he gives your hand a tight squeeze, “Sweetie.”

He doesn’t wait for you to regain your composure before he drags you across the street. As soon as Tsukishima’s foot lands on the other curb, he glances back at the direction from which you came.

The capped-man was now slowly walking forward, reaching the crosswalk just as the light turned red once more.

Tsukishima quickened his pace down the silent sidewalk, globes of orange light shining down each lamp post you walked past. You said nothing of the sweat that accumulated between both of your nervous palms, still gripping onto Tsukishima’s hand tightly. The size of it nearly engulfs your own, and your hold on him was the only thing allowing you to somewhat keep up with the pace of his strides.

“My bus stop is right over there,” you mumble quietly, and Tsukishima silently thanked the gods you were going the same direction.

He could feel your fingers trembling against his, and Tsukishima gives you a light squeeze.

He wasn’t sure what to do. He was never one to comfort another, and he had never really been in a situation before. But something akin to an ember of rage had been stoked within him as soon as he saw some strange man’s greedy little eyes stuck on you.

The bus arrived just five minutes later, and Tsukishima stayed close behind as you climbed inside. You were lucky enough to find two vacant seats, and you slid into the one beside the window. Tsukishima occupies the aisle seat, stretching his legs out slightly as he watches the stream of people entering and leaving the bus.

It was after an old woman carrying groceries clambered into a seat behind the bus driver did Tsukishima notice him.

He sat by the very front while the two of you occupied seats in the back. A pair of sunglasses now completely masked all of his features, but Tsukishima didn’t need to see his eyes to know who they were trained on.

When you look up at him, dazed and slightly terrified, he gives you a tight-lipped smile. He lets go of your hand, and his heart breaks a little when he sees your eyes dart around in panic. Wordlessly, he reaches over and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close into his side.

You had always been so hot-headed — loud, and passionate, and animated about everything that you do. Tsukishima had known you were trouble from the moment you rearranged one of his displays without even thinking about consulting him, and you had honestly been a headache ever since. You challenged him at every turn, corrected him when he didn’t ask for it, and it was obvious to Tsukishima that you were much too big for him to handle.

But at the moment, feeling so small as you trembled tucked beneath his arm, Tsukishima could only think that he never wanted to see you like this ever again.

His heart crumbles a little when you rest your head against his shoulder.

“So,” Tsukishima’s voice vibrated against your cheek, “The tours ran a bit too long today, didn’t they?”

Tsukishima bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing when you turn your head to face him, an incredulous expression decorating your features.

“Is now really an appropriate time for an ‘I told you so’,” You hissed, “You never miss a chance, do you?”

Now, a smug smile has fully settled onto his lips, “Never have, never will.”

You land a punch on Tsukishima’s wide open ribs, and he flinches to the side with a slight ‘oof’. But he tightens his arm around you even more. Swirls of pine and citrus began to calm your nerves, and it took you too long to realize you were inhaling Tsukishima’s cologne. He smelled as clean as he looked, and even after a full day of work, not a single hair of his was out of place.

Your stop was four after Tsukishima’s. He carried your bag from your shoulders as you climbed out of your seat. He stepped aside to allow you to lead the way, but Tsukishima’s chest was nearly pressed against your back with how closely he followed behind.

You hadn’t expected Tsukishima to follow you this far, and as you walked a few steps towards the direction of your apartment, you turned to thank Tsukishima for his aid.

You whip your head side to side when you find that he was no longer walking behind you, curious to see that he was waiting two feet away from the bus’ exit.

You briefly wondered what he was waiting for, and your heart shattered down to the ground when you see the familiar stranger that had been following you since you exited your office building slowly step out.

You didn’t even notice him climb onto the bus. Had he really been there the entire time? Oh god, was he planning to follow you all the way home? Your head begins to spin at the dangerous possibilities that could have unfolded.

“Are you lost?” Tsukishima’s voice was cold and stern, and you could hear it clearly from where you stood.

You watched as the hooded man jolted, clearly shocked at the question directed to him. His face still remained perfectly hidden, but you could tell from his body language that he was not expecting to be addressed.

Tsukishima towered over him, but his six foot five stature had towered nearly everyone. The eyes behind his dark-rimmed glasses were narrowed in a glare, and Tsukishima stayed planted in front of your intruder.

“Oh — uh, i— no, just —“

“It’s that way,” Tsukishima didn’t wait for the man to finish his stammering, pointing a long finger towards the opposite direction of your home.

The man didn’t need to be told twice. He twirled on his heels, looking over his shoulders only to see Tsukishima watch as he walked away into the night.

You were frozen, mouth hung so wide open, you were pretty sure bugs had flown in. Tsukishima makes his way back to you, stopping to wrap his arms around your shoulders once again. He tilts his head down at you, looking softly as he asks, “Which way?”

You were at a loss for words, choosing instead to simply lead the way. Tsukishima remained draped over you, like a blanket of protection warding off all evil.

The silence that engulfed the two of you felt comfortable, and on any other day, you might have been appalled to be in such close contact with Tsukishima Kei.

But today, you felt safe. You felt comfort, and relief, and you relax against him, perfectly protected under Tsukishima’s wing.

You sneak a glance up at him, biting your lip as you turn the words you want to say over in your head.

“Tsukishima,” you start, chewing on your lips, “Thank yo—“

“My last tour is usually at 4:45,” he interrupts you, squeezing his hand on your shoulder, “I try to catch up on some paperwork before leaving but…”

He trails off, and you stay silent in fear of ruining what he’s trying to tell you.

He shifts his head away from you as he says, “If you wait for me, I could walk you home.”

You stop in your tracks, looking up at him with a smile. Tsukishima pointedly avoids your gaze, but it’s difficult when he’s keeping you pinned beside him.

“I’d like that,” you mumble before pointing back at the apartment building he hadn’t noticed, “This is my place.”

Tsukishima finally deigns to let you go, stepping back and brushing his fingers through his hair.

“Shorten your tours,” he grumbles out, turning his body back the direction from where he came, “And don’t forget to itemize each piece that comes in for the Date Masumane exhibit tomorrow.”

You stare at him dumbfounded before bursting out in giggles, bringing your hand up in a mock salute.

“I owe you one,” you call out, watching him retreat back from where he came.

He waves you off.

“I like black coffee,” he calls back over his shoulder, “Do what you will with that information.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

rbs v appreciated <33

[theloveinc]

Deaf short king!bakugou who is your husband and y’all have been married for 15-20+ years and have a HOUSE FULL of children who is always up to no good. The oldest twin girls are always arguing about something stupid or trying to convince their 40+ grumpy old bastard of a dad to let them drive his EXTREMELY EXPENSIVE work car and he just literally takes his hearing aids out when they aren’t paying attention and the twins always get so dramatic when they find out. They literally act just like him when it comes to being dramatic and explosive emotions-

Or he is in the kitchen cooking for the 7-8+ kids and you see your teen son trying to put his phone at his fathers forehead to make that weird looking .5 angle on his forehead as if his kid doesn’t have a huge ass forehead like their daddy and bakugou is always threatening them with asl and his voice that if he doesn’t like them cook he’s gonna shove his foot up their ass and outside people will think he’s being mean but the kids love it. Especially his son- he loves to rough house with his dad and is constantly trying to shove his short king number two hero dad. Bakugou is shorter than his eldest son but will still pick him up when he’s getting on his nerves and throw him on the couch or just throw him around in general while his son is wildly laughing and trying to get out of his grip.

Or the youngest: the triplets. They are all girls and only 3-5 and they are also loud and expressive like their daddy. They are all always climbing on him and all glued to his hips and back. He’s always literally PEELING them off of him by their ankles or wrists because they just have to be on him and know exactly what he’s doing 24/7. He also is the one who dresses them as well and they look as if they are grown from the way he dresses them. They are literal little fashion models!

Bakugou can’t do anything without his kids following him or bothering him. If he’s napping they are either A) gonna join him or B) record him snoring or bother him in some type of way like jumping on top of him full on belly flopping or trying to see if they can get away with messing with him before he wakes up. If bakugou is shitting one of them is gonna be pounding on the door asking him what’s he doing in there and they will make a big deal about him using the bathroom like spraying the whole house down in air freshener or yelling about him shitting. Even if he’s at fucking work they will call him just to tell him they took a shit in his bathroom in his and his wife’s bathroom or that he’s short or just something in that annoying picking type stuff but he loves it.

They literally do it cause he’s done it to them since they were babies and they all love it so so much. Like it’s always so chaotic in the house. Like there’s never a moment of peace so there’s a lot of times you’ll find bakugou without his aids in

no bc why did this literally make me laugh out loud. like... full on covering my mouth so i don't start snorting-laughing. everything about this has me dead asf, esp the short king part because adkjhfkdskjfakj true!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he really had no idea that teasing them when they were younger would create such monsters😭😭😭 his first two fighting like literal DOGS to the point where he has to get in there w/ them to break it up, and then they're just getting mad and yelling at HIM for interrupting!!!

and his boys w/ camera rolls full of him looking so goddamn ugly. the forehead angle (LMAOOO), the snores, him blowing his nose, his face right in the middle of yelling or a sequence of him trying to take away their phones, even maybe a few of him pinching your butt, which they try to use as blackmail occasionally and then get. Grounded.

and you know his kids do that thing where, when they don't wanna listen to him they just close their eyes. makes him SO mad lmfao he just starts yelling, like "you idiots know i can talk" and they're still just sat there giggling pretending not to see or understand him.

(it's kinda funny bc when they mess with him, like when they want to roughhouse or whatever, he'll sign for them to stop, and then he'll sign again when they don't, and then he'll sign again... up until you're across the house and just hear the loudest STOPPIT you've ever heard in your life... and then laughing as your kids run away trying not to get spanked by the wooden spoon he swats at them)

and him trying to keep your youngest three from turning out like their oldest siblings🥺 they're definitely sassy, but given they like their dad and aren't mean to him or you (still very cuddly and sweet)... he kinda lets them do whatever cuz he's scared of making them turn on him, too.

all your older kids are lowkey salty abt it lmaoo (esp since they get the brunt of the little ones' attitudes) and pull that whole "dad wasn't like that w/ us!!!!!" while bakugo is literally just turning into a forehead vein, all. "please give me a break. please." (to which you get yelled at then, too, "WHY DID YOU GIVE THAT MAN SO MANY KIDS???" it's honestly funny lol.)

god. i literally wanna comment on everything here but.i know i am / would just be repeating, i'm so sorry. them calling his office every single day to ask for something. him being mad when they use your bathroom and touch all your products. dragging kids out of the front seat of his car... only to come back and find another in their place. them turning off his hearing aids while they're still in his ears just to confuse him. being so gorgeous😭😭😭

at the end of the day though, they're still his babies :'))). hurt his back so often it makes him glad he's close to retirement BUT there's still not a thing he wouldn't do for them. you usually wake up with at least 3-4 kids trying to fit in your bed at a time. have your movie interrupted by arguing about who gets to sit next to who. them beaming even at the smallest bit of attention from dad. they just love each other so much🖤🖤🖤

and probably become even better, crazier heroes than him (even if it takes him 20 years + a grandbaby to admit it).

[mackenzielovee]

blurb 3 & 4 with rafe? maybe angsty but with a fluffy ending :) 💕

a/n: helloooo my love. I made this a little longer than I hoped but i hope you love it anyway. thank you for the request! <3

warnings: swearing, blood

my writing

none of your business - rafe cameron

Two o'clock in the morning.

That's what time Rafe Cameron decides to beat on the front door of the guest house, knowing he's going to wake you but not necessarily caring. You rub the sleep from your eyes and curse the floor for being so cold under your bare feet as you yank the door open, ready to kill whoever stood on the other end.

"Rafe," you groan when you see him. He notes your expression change when you take in his appearance.

His eyes are red all around, one of them starting to bruise underneath. You can see lines from tears that have since dried resting on his cheeks, which are now mixed with the blood seeping from the cuts on his face. Your eyes trail down his body to his ripped shirt and his bloody knuckles, making you sigh loudly. Your shoulders relax from their tense position as you know you can't be mad at him anymore.

"Are you gonna let me in, or?" he questions.

You've been staying with the Cameron's for a while now.  Since you've moved onto the property, you and Rafe haven't exactly been getting along. Which only adds to you confusion as to why he's come to you.

You sigh and hold the door open wider for him to enter, not necessarily inviting him inside. You watch as he looks at you emotionless, only for a second, before entering.

"Why are you here?" you ask as you follow him to the kitchen.

He starts opening and closing random cabinets, clearly not finding whatever it is he's looking for. He completely ignores you, which only adds to your annoyance.

"Rafe?" you grumble, staring at him so intently you could probably burn a hole in the side of his head.

He barely glances over at you, looking at you more as if you're a nuisance than a help.

"Do you not have, like, band-aids and shit?" he asks, digging through one of the drawers and then slamming it shut when it doesn't contain what he wants.

"In the bathroom."

He stands up straight and rolls his eyes, then finally looks over at you. He notes the sleepy look in your eyes and how cute you look in your little matching pajama set, paying extra attention to your little shorts lingering a little too high on your legs.

"Can you help me?" he asks, his voice a little softer than before.

You nod, surprised at his question, then point to your bathroom as if he doesn't know where it is. He walks in front of you and enters the bathroom first, pulling off his ripped and bloody shirt the second he enters. He throws it on the floor, not particularly caring where it lands. You sigh and he smirks, knowing he's achieved his goal of annoying the shit out of you every chance he gets.

You pull out your first-aid kit, ready to fix him up and stop the bleeding from his knuckles. You wet a washcloth and reach out, waiting on him to give you his hand.

"Sorry about the blood," he smirks as he lightly places his hand in yours.

You roll your eyes, "Consider this my rent payment for the month."

"Nah," he shakes his head.

"What even happened?" you ask, focusing on cleaning and not bothering to look up at him.

"None of your fucking business."

You sigh, reaching down and dabbing rubbing alcohol on your washcloth. You don't bother to warn Rafe before you press it to his open wounds on his knuckles.

"Fuck!" he swears, yanking his hand away, "Jesus."

"Sorry," you shrug absentmindedly.

You pretend not to notice his little sarcastic laugh as he figures out that you did it on purpose, then ignore the way he slaps his hand back in yours. You start cleaning again, but decide to be more gentle this time. Rafe takes a small step toward you, then another, making you look up at him. The look in his eyes is different - almost like he's up to something.

"You think that's funny?" he whispers, leaning his head down so he's level with you.

"I didn't mean to," you swallow, completely intoxicated with his scent as it wafts over you.

He brings his good hand up to tip your chin so you're looking up at him now. You've never found Rafe attractive, but something about how his voice got low and raspy, the way he smells, and the fact that you're exhausted have you completely wrapped around his finger.

"Mhm," he hums, smirking slightly, "How about.."

He trails off, bringing his head back down to you again. Just as your lips are about to touch, he speaks again.

"How about you fucking clean me up, or I'll make sure you're out of here permanently by tomorrow."

You pull away from him quickly, ducking your head to hide your rosy cheeks from him. He laughs, but can't help but feel bad when he sees how embarrassed you are. He sets his other hand on the counter, then lifts it up again, leaving blood on your white countertops.

"You're getting blood everywhere," you say quietly, still trying to shake off what had just happened.

"I said I was fucking sorry, sweetheart," his voice is raspy again, making you weak at the knees.

You finish cleaning him up in silence, trying to pretend like he hadn't really gotten to you. By the end of it, Rafe really feels guilty, but he's not sure how to fix it. He really had no idea you'd even let him go that far.

"There," you say when you're done, "You know the way out."

You start to leave the bathroom, gasping when Rafe grabs onto your wrist and spins you back around to face him. His expression holds the same one it did when he asked you to help him clean up - soft and sweet.

"Hey," he says quietly, "I'm sorry about before. I was just messing with you."

You shrug, pretending like it didn't bother you. He groans internally, mad that you're making him work for it.

"Do you think," he pauses, slowly bringing his hand down to your own, "I could stay the night? Dad will kick my ass if he sees."

You want to point out that his wounds won't heal overnight, but you also don't really want him to leave. Something about him staying the night excites you.

"Couch is free," you shrug again.

He tugs you even closer to him, using his had hand to reach up and stroke the skin on your cheek. You stop breathing, you swear you do, as he touches you. His skin feels hot against your own.

"I don't sleep on couches," he says quietly, leaning down and pressing his lips to your jaw.

You moan lightly at the feeling, trying to remember how to breathe.

"Rafe."

"Hmm?"

"Rafe."

"What, princess?" he laughs lightly as he pulls his lips off you to see what you need.

"What are you doing?" you finally ask, still feeling like you're on fire.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asks, and when you just stare, he continues, "I'm just trying to get into your bed."

Your heart sinks as you sigh and try to pull out of his grip. He laughs lightly, tightening around your hand.

"No. No, baby. I'm joking. I'm just kidding."

You huff and turn back to him, but refuse to look him in the eye. You really can't tell with him anymore.

"Honestly?" he says after a minute, his voice soft once again, "I really just want to cuddle with you."

You finally allow yourself to look up at him, trying to determine if he's serious. He looks different, more vulnerable than usual. He can tell by the look on your face that you really don't want to play games with him anymore, so to show you he's serious, he leans down and presses his lips to yours.

He tastes salty, probably a result of the tears that fell down his face earlier. You sink into the kiss and swear you could do it forever just as he pulls away.

"Please?"

"Yeah, okay," you nod, watching him smile victoriously.

He leads you to your bedroom, the one you had been alone in only half an hour ago, and only releases your hand to remove his jeans. He throws them on the floor and crawls under your covers, holding his arms open for you.

You sink in beside him and you two quickly mold into one another. The fit is perfect. His arm around you, your head on his chest, other hand stroking gently through your hair.

"I've been thinking about this for a while," he admits.

"Really?"

"Yeah," he says, then after a minute, "Stay here as long as you want. It's nice having you here."

You smile against his chest. After a few minutes, you feel him stop the stroking of your hair, then soft snores coming from above you. You fall asleep only a few minutes after him, way more content with him than you had been sleeping alone.

blurb list here! please send requests to my ask box!

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 7

Summary: In order to win, she might have to lose.

Warnings: angst, swearing, bit of fluff, sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six  

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

Waking up to skies lit by the wintry sun is what Y/N expected. In the back of her mind, she remembers opening her eyes. Perhaps it’s her mind playing tricks on her, but she could swear she heard Aleksander’s voice softly speaking to her. 

Telling dreams from reality felt like an impossible task, but if it were a dream, would she really dream of him?

Death never crossed her mind. She was a soldier in an expendable army for most of her life, yet she never feared death. There was never a lingering sense of what if when they asked her if she believed in life after death, but she wondered now. Looking death in the eye had forced a realization upon her – she would die and achieve nothing. She married arguably the most powerful man in all of Ravka and she failed to utilize it. In the end, her name would be forgotten in history for her plans would all die with her.

Inhaling sharply, she wanted to open her eyes. A heaviness settles on her eyelids, making her groan. Her entire body felt dismantled, every nerve bare, inflicting pain.

“It’s alright”, a hand pressed to her forehead and Y/N frowns. Breathing heavily, she felt vulnerable, exposed.

Swallowing thickly, her eyes flutter open. With blurry vision, she looked up at the dark presence looming above her. Blinking fast, her lips part and before she can ask, cool liquid runs down her parched throat.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes closed again. She needed a moment to collect herself, to stop the world from spinning.

“It hurts”, she mumbles meekly.

“Shhh”, his voice reaches her. “I’m here”, she feels a gentle squeeze of his hand, “You’re safe.”

Resisting sleep, she opened her eyes once more. The sight of his tormented gaze leaves her nearly breathless. He’s still handsome, but it looks as if he’s aged ten years in just a few days.

“What happened?” Her voice is hoarse, still raspy from thirst and sleep.

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a week”, his forehead wrinkles, “We’ve just made it back.”

Despite the little voice in his head, the Darkling held onto his wife throughout the night. He kept her close to his chest, running his fingers through her hair. She was exhausted, injured so badly he could hear the strain her body was under with every breath she took.

Her eyes remained closed, her lips slightly parted and his pressed in a thin line. Absurd. It was absurd to think that someone like that – so delicate, so fragile, could have any power over him. It baffles him just how quickly he found himself attached to this woman who was unremarkable in every possible way – or so he told himself.

Truth be told, he couldn’t take his eyes off her since he first saw her. She radiates genuine beauty few possess, a confidence he’s never found in anyone in hundreds of years, and an air of mystery he couldn’t quite understand.

By the time morning light reached their tent, the Darkling just stared at her with care, studying every inch of her face as if it could be the last time he’ll ever be given a chance. He memorized the way she fit in his embrace, the rhythm of her beating heart in the dead of night and every labored breath as it threatened his sanity.

Anger was his best friend for so long, his shield against humanity, but his anger wasn’t all-consuming as it once was – it was directed to those who caused the swelling around her eyes and cuts across her cheekbones.

“General”, Ivan’s head peaked inside the tent only to swiftly disappear once he caught sight of a moment he was sure wasn’t meant for his eyes.

Rolling his eyes, the Darkling gently laid her head down. Caressing her cheek, he let a heavy sigh pass his lips. It’s been too long since he last felt so defenseless and helpless as he did now. He promised himself he’d never feel that way again and yet he found himself in the same cursed whirlwind of emotions as he was in when the fold came to be.

Biting his lower lip, he pushed it all down. If he’s distraught, his people would know. He cannot be emotional and still lead an army. He has to be strong – for Grisha and for Y/N.

“Ivan, we’ll have to find a healer soon”, Kirigan spoke in a hushed tone. Glancing at the tent, he felt a lump growing at the back of his throat. “I believe she’s developed a fever too.”

“Fedyor can try to cool her temperature”, Ivan offers, “He’ll slow her heart and keep her breathing. I’ll trade with him if necessary.”

Nodding, the general was satisfied with Ivan’s solution. For once, Ivan didn’t question why he wanted to protect her. This time, he was offered aid rather than words of discouragement.

“I’ll have to leave some of our own here”, Kirigan looks at the direction they came from. “The Fjerdans came too close and I need to know why. Why would they take my wife?”

Ivan lowers his voice, making sure he doesn’t wake up Y/N, “Perhaps it was a coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. Not when her safety is at stake.”

Nodding, Ivan glances at Fedyor. He’d be the same if anyone touched his beloved. Suppressing a smile, Ivan finally realized it – no matter how vehemently the general denies it, his heart is no longer his.

“What are the orders? I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

“Take back what they took, place their heads on a stake and wait. More should come soon and when they do, I want to know why they came so close to Little Palace and who ordered them to take my wife.”

Squinting, not in anger but to see him better, Y/N frowns, “A week?”

“Winter made it hard for us to move faster and you were in no shape to ride back.”

Letting out a shaky breath of air, she raised an eyebrow, “So you carried me?”

“Ivan and Fedyor kept you alive too.”

Wetting her chapped lips, she hesitated. Her fingers burned, itching to touch him, to intertwine with his.

“A healer should be here any minute now”, Aleksander informed, pulling his hand out of hers as if he could sense her inner battles and decided to help her by removing himself from it entirely.

“No”, she decided.

Standing abruptly, his jaw clenched. Despite his stern expression, his eyes hold all the sadness in the world, pleading eyes that both threaten and adore.

“No?” He repeats with disdain, “What do you mean by no?”

Holding her breath, she endures a sharp pain in her ribcage as she propped herself up on her elbows. Breathing heavily, she directed her determined gaze on him. “I’m human, am I not?”

Squinting at her, his lips part, “And?”

Struggling to prevent herself from laughing at the way he looked at her now, Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Humans aren’t allowed aid of a healer. We go to the medics.”

“You’re my wife”, he remarks almost instantaneously, slightly wishing she remained unconscious for a while longer. If she slept, the healer would have done their job and there would be no argument. There was no doubt about it, their truce was over.

“But I’m still a human. The rest of my kind don’t have the privilege of being married to you.” Her voice is stern, low and frustratingly righteous.

“You need a healer or you might not survive”, Aleksander insisted.

“Then let me die.” She stared at him, no signs of crumbling and it made him feel like he’s drowning.

Rubbing his forehead, the Darkling shut his eyes in frustration. After all the sleepless nights, his head felt like it would implode. All he had on his mind was her safety and now when he brought her home, she refused help.

“What do you want?”

Knitting her eyebrows, she glanced at his jaw as it clenched. “What?”

Her voice is higher, almost confused but he knew better than that. “I’ve known you for almost two months.” Two months too long, he thought. “I know when you’re trying to extort me.”

Covering her mouth, Y/N suppressed a laugh. Truth be told, it’s exactly what she’s doing, she just didn’t expect him to cave so quickly.

“Healers for the First army”, her lips twitch. Pursing her lips, she bites the soft flesh on the inside of her mouth to stop herself from smiling at all costs.

“No”, he spoke through gritted teeth.

Shrugging, she laid back down. “Alright then. I only regret I won’t be here to hear you explain my death to the Tsar and my father.”

Growling under his breath, he swipes his hand down his face. “One healer.”

“Two”, she argued, sitting up with a pained expression on her face.

“We can’t spare two”, the Darkling crosses his arms, his eyes darker than ever before.

Lifting her chin in defiance, she narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Two healers or no deal.”

Releasing a long, heavy breath in frustration, the Darkling felt his insides turn. “Two healers but only for those who can’t get better with a week long rest on their own.”

“Two healers for those who can’t get better in a few days of rest AND the same amount of food and water for the First army.”

Running a hand through his hair, the general’s nostrils flare. Cracking his neck to the left, to the right, he turned his death glare back on his wife. “Food and water are limited for Grisha as well.”

“I saw them eat grapes”, Y/N deadpans. “You have enough, so share. If the First army dies out, who will protect your precious Grisha?”

Folding her hands in her lap, she maintained eye contact with the general who refused to blink. He stared back at her, aghast. The woman was impossible! She made every word that passed her lips a contest of wills.

His jaw set, he moved closer to stand before her. He looked formidable with the relentless, firm pools of black ink for eyes devouring her with intensity, too hard in comparison to what she had seen in the tent. He looked like he could kill her without even putting a hand on her…something she still expected him to do.

What was stopping him? She was far behind enemy lines, no reinforcements and she saw what he can do – he could kill everyone who stood in his way.

“Fine”, he huffs. “Under one condition.”

Rolling her eyes, she nods, “What is it?”

“I want a kiss.”

Her eyes flashed to his. Ringed with golden bruises, she was still alluring – like a wildfire or a storm. No…she is wildfire, a storm. She is deadly and uncontrollable and slightly out of her wits and he’s asking her to be his ruination. It isn’t love, he tells himself, it’s obsession.

Raising her eyebrows, Y/N didn’t bother hiding her surprise. A kiss? Of all the things he could have asked, the big bad general who can summon shadows is asking for a kiss?

A part of her trusted Aleksander and that trust demanded intimacy. She wanted his hands on her – in her hair, his lips on her neck. She longed to be vulnerable and that’s what worried her. Trusting him, needing him, it’s bound to breed love and self-inflicted madness. If it were anything else, she would outright refuse him, but she has so many lives dependent on her answer.

“Tonight”, she decided. If her own sanity is the price to pay, she will do what she has to do.

Nodding, the Darkling retreated. Leaving the room, he opened the door for the healer to enter. Sparing her a quick look, he swallowed thickly as the thought of her willingly kissing him made his heart slam into the rib cage. Even his heart wanted to escape him as it too longed for her hands’ touch.

He didn’t make more than two steps outside the room when a Grisha joined him - one of his many spies.

“What do you have for me?”

The spy beckons him to the side, looking around wildly. “This could change everything.”

“What is it?” The Darkling speaks through gritted teeth, demanding an answer.

“There is talk”, the spy pauses, “Of a Sun Summoner.”

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

Healed, bathed and properly fed, Y/N had paced their room in anticipation of his arrival. She had seen the look in his eyes earlier that day – something between them has changed.

As the door opens, her breath halts inside her throat.

“I thought you were lost”, Genya admitted. “When they found your mare, I lost hope.”

Smiling, Y/N cupped her cheek. “I did too”, she sniffled.

The Darkling felt, more than saw, her presence as he entered the room. He turned slowly, his breath held. Her hair looked darker in the candlelight, its rich color gleaming against the green velvet of fresh sheets on the bed she leaned against. He could hardly speak. The nearness of her, the quiet room, the candlelight made him question the reality of what he was looking at.

“You look better”, Aleksander managed a curt smile, looking at Y/N and her attire. The sheer nightdress she wore was back, perfectly outlining her figure.

“Why did they take you?” Genya asked, unshead tears weighing heavily on her eyes. “Did they know?”

“No”, Y/N shakes her head, “But they found out.”

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter. Kirigan killed them all.” Y/N glanced at the door where she expected her husband to appear later on.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Y/N felt her heart flip. “It helped me realize something.”

Frowning, Genya waited for Y/N to explain.

“Your General does have a heart”, she states. His request for a kiss lingered in every thought her mind could concoct.

She stared at him then slowly untied the belt of her robe and it glided languidly over her smooth skin, falling to her feet.

His gaze roamed over her as if he is unable to fully comprehend her beauty. Only when he looked back at her eyes did he see she was troubled. 

“Of course he does”, Genya chuckles, “He was most worried when you were taken. He promised he’d kill them all and bathe in their blood.”

“I think I can use that.”

Knitting her eyebrows, Genya’s frown deepened. “How?”

Pressing her lips, Y/N sighed. “In order for me to win”, she paused, “He needs to believe he did.”

“Husband”, she spoke clearly. She feigned confidence, but inside she quivered.

She had barely finished the syllable when she was in his arms, being carried to their bed, his lips already fastened to hers. She felt his lips hit hers like a tornado, his admission of burning the world in her name spinning in her head. It could have been a fever dream, but she would bet her life it wasn’t.

Holding her chin in place, he rested his forehead on hers, heaving from the kiss. She couldn’t open her eyes, clinging to him for dear life, but even with eyes closed, Y/N could hear the emotions thick in his voice.

“I don’t want to do anything you’re not willing.” He whispered against his lips, all too prepared for his hands to roam her body now.

Y/N was afraid of herself as well as of him. He could sense it as he kissed her. He’d waited a long time for her to come to him and now it seems she was more than ready to give herself to him without his talk of her marital duty.

He expected anything but to find her with her arms wide open.  But even now, as he held her, he felt no great sense of triumph.

Pulling the sheet over her, he stood. “I can wait.”

The sheet accented her shoulders and the full swelling of her breasts. The candlelight deepened the shadow above the sheet. Her bare throat pulsed with life. Her face was set in a firm, serious expression that caused her eyes to darken. Her lips were hard, as if carved of marble and he ached to part them into a smile.

Turning away, he began undressing himself for bed, wondering how he could survive a night beside her if she remains as she is now.

She averts her gaze, whispering under her breath in confusion, “Wait?”

He laid beside her, barely dressed at all. She found herself achingly aware of his presence. The only light in the room was from the flames of candles she placed across the room. The light danced on her hair, played with the shadows of her delicate collarbones. At this moment, he remembered nothing of the arrangement their marriage was meant to be. He knew only that he was in bed with a desirable woman, one he never expected to claim. She seemed too headstrong to ever give into his charm, yet she bared herself before him and he couldn’t take advantage of her.

“Why don’t you want me?” She sat up, glaring at him. She let the sheet fall as his eyes met hers, bravely fixing him with her fiery gaze.

Rolling his eyes, he looks away. How can she torment him like this with no shame?

If anything, he felt like she’s attacking him. “I don’t want to hear about how a demon took you by force for the rest of my life.”

“It’s not force if I’m giving myself willingly, is it?” She raised an eyebrow, deciding on a tactic finally. Aleksander is a general, a conqueror at heart and she saw the desire in his eyes. If there was any hope of her plan to work, she had to harness his desire to convince him he won.

Licking his lips as he cracked a smile, Aleksander nodded in surprise, unable to keep his eyes from wandering lower to her breasts. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He wanted to possess her, to claim this difficult, headstrong woman for himself. His mouth came down brutally hard on hers, claiming them, nearly bruising them.

Y/N fumbled with the sheet that wrapped around her, making Aleksander chuckle into the kiss.

“Let me help you,” Aleksander purred and tore the sheet away, pulling it from under the mattress.

Wrapping his hand around Y/N’s neck, his grip was oddly weak, gentle even. She laid nude before him, his gaze fixed on her. He stared at her in wonder; her full breasts, curvy waist, round hips. Then he looked back at her face, her eyes blazing. Her lips were reddened from his kiss, and suddenly there was no power on earth that could stop him from taking her.

“You make me feel”, he pauses in anguish, “You make me feel”, he said quietly, fiercely, “And I don’t like it. I want it to stop. Now.”

He pushed her into the mattress and Y/N saw the ruthless general in his eyes and for a moment she feared it. A general isn’t gentle at all, not like Aleksander could be. She feared the pain he’d cause and the tears that would follow. She feared what he’d do to her, but then the fear she felt dissipated as he spoke against her lips.

“I’ll go slowly.” Aleksander stopped himself, remembering she’s never had a man in her bed before and once he saw the fear in her eyes extinguish the flame he already adored, he reeled himself in.

“Your hands are bloody from murder”, she paused, “But I trust them completely.” Her voice had never been smaller, her hands never as desperate as she clung to him. She wanted to trust the sudden, overwhelming warmth in his unrelentingly tender gaze, but she still awaited the pain that was yet to come. He moved on top of her, his lips attaching to her neck gently as he pressed a kiss above her pulsating carotid, knowing she’s nervous as he felt the pace of her pulse.

With one thigh, Aleksander parted hers. He kissed her again, passionate and slow, distracting her as his hand moves lower, down to the intimate parts she never allowed another only man to see, to feel. Slipping his finger between her folds, he found if applied enough pressure a desperate moan escapes her without a fail. He feels her breathing change as he begins to rub circles, her thighs trying to push against his in a need of more friction. And that’s when control escapes her and she closes her eyes completely, letting the pleasure take over.

Unable to wait any longer, Aleksander pushed the head of his hardened length between the folds, feeling her wetness pooling over as nature’s lubricant. Feeling the membrane, he stops for a moment. Looking at her carefully for any signs of distress, he wonders if she even realizes what is about to happen.

“Do you want this?” He asks again, fearing she may change her mind.

Gripping his arm, she nods. “Yes”, she replies, breathless.

Pressing himself inside, he bows his head in the crook of her neck, growling lowly in pleasure. It’s not the first virgin he had, but it’s the first one that made him want to come on the first thrust.

“Go on.” She encourages him, surprising them both. Swallowing thickly, she sinks her nails into his back, anticipating the next thrust. It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t in pain, but she knew it would get easier as he moves again and she would feel the pleasure again – and she wanted the pleasure more than the pain.

Nodding, Aleksander starts moving in and out slowly, refusing to risk her pain for a little more pleasure he’d find in speed and his untimely release. Instead, he’s using deep, slow strokes with a relentless care for the nerve bundle between her folds. Every passing second draws louder moans from her until he feels her clench around him, his own mind blackening as he feels himself nearing the edge. She’s holding him so tightly to her body, so desperately as she unravels beneath him. Picking up pace, he finally loses control, jerking his hips to meet hers in a deep thrust only to finish deep inside her, allowing them both to breathe.

Rolling off her, Aleksander decided to stay quiet, allowing her to have control of the moment. If she wants his embrace, he’d do it for her and if she wants to talk, he’d talk to her, otherwise, he’d just sleep. It’s been so long since he truly slept – since the day they went for that ride.

He placed an arm around her for comfort alone, not pressing himself closer than necessary, closing his eyes once he realizes she’s not interested in him at all after she came down from her high.

Waiting for a few minutes, Y/N pretended to sleep. After the hurricane of emotions he’d given her, Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She wanted to relax, to sleep in bliss, but a part of her ached. She ached for who she used to be. Would her father hate her for what she just did? Would her people denounce her for sleeping with the enemy?

Her eyes opened wide, finding his are still closed. Lips quivering, she felt herself crumble as tears fled her eyes. She watched his sleeping figure and sighed deeply, telling herself to stop crying. She was supposed to be in control of him, to make him want her and crave her, yet she found it was the opposite. She didn’t love him, but she did feel a connection…perhaps it’s the kindness he showed her when he rescued her or the pleasure he had given her, but something inside her changed and the heart she hardened on purpose found a soft spot for the general.

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

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Part 8

[dizzydennis]

Sonic x Metal Sonic Cover Story!

Translator note: I am not totally fluent in Japanese so please understand that my translations are not perfect, but I hope you can enjoy this fun story. Any constructive criticism is appreciated.

Deep within Dr. Eggman’s abandoned, secret lab... a robot connected to a database booted up made note of the current situation. The evaluation was as followed:

[[Current status... "unfavorable"]]

While this robot was in rest for maintenance, Dr. Eggman was once again defeated by Sonic. Yet again, “he” was unable to rush to protect his master from crisis.

The same amount of bitterness stirred inside him... or perhaps even more.

It longed for the opportunity to defeat Sonic.

This mechanical piece of intelligence was known as “Metal Sonic” and it was created for the sole purpose of destroying Sonic. It continued to analyze the situation:

[[Current status is "unfavorable"]]

☆ ★ ☆

"Speed ​​Highway" is a super-three-dimensional highway that runs through a plethora of high-rise buildings.

It has many acceleration lanes such as the “360-degree rotating loop” that rises to the sky and a corkscrew that stretches into a large spiral. It attracts the souls of speed enthusiasts everywhere!

Sonic was running around in good spirits as he hummed to himself.

CRASH!!

Suddenly, something attacked Sonic head-on! He barely avoided it as the road just ahead turned into a pile of rubble from such a shattering impact. Sonic let out a gleeful grin.

“I’m worried. You didn’t damage yourself with that stunt, did ya, Metal?”

It was, in fact, Metal Sonic that stood up from the rubble.

Metal gave a piercing, sharp gaze towards Sonic. Within a second, he quickly closed the gap between the two of them while pointing his left hand to Sonic.

“Hey! Isn’t that--!?”

It was the flickering of a Chaos Emerald. Metal’s other hand pointed to the innermost parts of Speed Highway. It was unwavering.

Sonic instantly understood what Metal Sonic meant.

“You’re gonna bet that in a competition against me? That doesn’t seem very fair now, does it?”

Sonic then took out his all of the Chaos Emeralds he had on him.

“Alright, Metal! This is for real then. All or nothing!”

In an instant, two blue shadows dashed out onto the street, illuminated by the lights of the skyscrapers at dusk. The race that moved faster than the speed of sound had begun!

☆ ★ ☆

As the sound barrier was broken, the rush of wind echoed through the elevated roads that were cast as a valley between the buildings.

A corkscrew twisted down from a 360-degree loop as it curved to the right and then to the left. It then went into a spiral that took them up and down and all around.

Sonic lightly traced across the road’s surface as he felt enthralled by the difficult course of the Speed Highway. Metal Sonic was able to glide across the road with the use of a jet engine.

The race continued with the two hedgehogs barely gaining a step on each other, but a big change occurred in the middle of the course. A super long and sharp curve came out after a speedy decent. Metal Sonic decided to engage in some close combat before this area.

He boosted forward as his body entered this shocking, electromagnetic state. It was a sudden attack, but Sonic was able to avoid it. He must have read his moves. Metal Sonic’s energy output temporarily dropped at the end of the boost as he slowed down; just as planned. He could clear the curve with just the right amount of speed. Sonic had to slow down here too and Metal Sonic had nothing to lose!

Everything was going fine, but at that moment, Sonic was speeding up and approaching fast. Metal Sonic’s thoughts became fragmented if only for a moment.

[[......!?]]

Sonic, as he started to tumble off the side of the course due to his great speed, had put his hand out and grabbed Metal Sonic’s head, curved inward, and accelerated towards the inner-section of the course. He pushed Metal downwards and perfectly made the curve.

“My bad!”

Metal Sonic, who managed to regain his posture, raised his face, he saw Sonic running far ahead.

Metal Sonic tried to analyze the situation

[[Current status... "unfavorable"]]

☆ ★ ☆

Metal Sonic continued to analyze everything while giving chase. He had never won again Sonic ever since their first battle. He was built for the best performance and had a tireless, steel body. There were many factors of his creation that should have meant he was unbeatable.

But I can never win.

Why? Why... it’s just a hedgehog that runs fast...

Right at that moment,

A buzz of electricity rippled through the robot’s AI and it’s train of thought.

Is it because it’s not just “fast.”

 [[............!]]

Why was this robot made to resemble Sonic?

Perhaps, the creator, Dr. Eggman, created this body simply to not waste time creating it, but to also be a replacement to Sonic.

It was created for that specific purpose. There’s something that had to be done.

Metal cut all non-essential parts such as “fire control” and the “electromagnetic spark capacitors.” All systems were set on full power to “Speed.” Metal sharpened and gutted himself on the inside.

A moment later, a creature of blue steel, which had become the pure concept of a new “Metal Sonic” began to chase after Sonic the Hedgehog.

☆ ★ ☆

Meanwhile, Sonic had already taken notice that something had changed with Metal Sonic. The distance between them was gradually getting shorter.

Metal Sonic was purely a machine. There’s no way to know what it could even be thinking about. However, Sonic could sometimes tell. He could sense Metal Sonic’s joy, willpower, and unhealthy obsession towards victory.

“Looks like things are heating up!”

Sonic sped up even more, with a serious expression, muttered words of amazement while suppressing a grin that was continuously rising to his mouth.

“Heh, you don’t feel like you’re getting burned out?”

It was a straight line from the left-twisting, half-corkscrew to the goal. Below, you could see the surface of the city piercing upwards. The two blue streaks sped up the outside of a vertical skyscraper.

The goal was just around the corner. Sonic was in the lead.

Metal Sonic’s AI became fully aware at this point. It would not win at this rate.

How can it win!? Perhaps it could increase the output from the jet propulsion unit a little more, but where there even enough resources to do so...!?

☆ ★ ☆

"...?"

Just a few hundred meters from the goal.

Right then, Sonic couldn’t understand what happened.

Metal Sonic pulled out to Sonic at an impossibly fast speed! A dazzling seven-colored light erupted from Metal’s chest as a bright red flame with black smoke gushed out of the jet exhaust hole on his back. Parts and debris flew off of him in a violent roar.

“Metal...!?”

That’s right. Metal Sonic absorbed and utilized Chaos Energy! However, the power of the Chaos Emeralds was not stable and was very uncontrollable.

While speeding ahead, Metal lost his balance and collapsed.

Upon seeing this, Sonic tried to call out...

In a single moment, Metal was swallowed the the seven bright lights as they were then engulfed by smoke. Metal Sonic turned into a glowing red bulb.

The explosion sent an impact out that knocked Sonic back. As he looked up to the sky...

Against the backdrop of the night sky, Metal Sonic’s scattered body parts, which drew a trail of red flames alongside shimmering shards of window glass seemed to fly by in slow motion.

For a single moment, Sonic thought it was strangely beautiful.

Immediately after, Sonic got to his feet while being shocked at the explosion sounds that came soon after. When suddenly...

Metal Sonic’s upper body, which only had the torso, head, and right arm attached had crashed to the floor. As it made attempts to crawl towards the goal. The efforts proved too exhausting as he soon stopped dead in his tracks... just 10 meters away.

Shortly after, Sonic begrudgingly crossed the finish line; putting this little game to an end.

A Chaos Emerald flew towards Sonic. As he caught it, he looked back with a unique and serious expression. Metal Sonic had tossed the emerald with the last of his power.

[[......!!]]

Metal Sonic jumped to restrain Sonic as he approached with his fiery eyes.

Sonic felt as if Metal Sonic was saying that it’s impossible for two people to have crossed the finish line.

The damage that Metal Sonic had taken wasn’t as bad as Sonic had expected.

Sonic spoke in his usual tone, feeling uncomfortable with how relieved the situation felt.

“It was a good race.”

As Sonic let out his remarks, he never turned back and said,

“I’ll be waiting for a rematch.”

☆ ★ ☆

The defeated Metal Sonic was analyzing the current situation.

This time, it was an utter defeat.

Metal tried to re-calibrate all of his resources, but still couldn’t win.

Metal Sonic tried to sharpen his strengths, but it was all too late. In the end, he lacked a way to channel his resources and self-destructed.

....However,

it should be noted that an unprecedented performance was achieved this time.

 Even with the final Chaos Emerald, considering that the race would have been lost regardless, it wasn’t necessarily a bad move... but a more detailed analysis is to be postponed.

A rescue signal was already issued. Aid was available and recovery could be achieved at Eggman’s base. If Metal connected to the base’s main computer and analyzed today’s data, he can definitely win next time. There is room to not only improve speed, but also inhibitory behaviors and attack patterns.

I can still reach a tier of being and there will others who can surpass or fall victim to that tier!

At the moment, Metal Sonic was forced into a deep sleep mode due to a drop in his voltage energy. His ability to think dropped rapidly and Metal Sonic obtained an analysis result that was unbiased and unemotional.

 [[Status is... “favorable."]] 

[glorified-red]

Could I request hcs for subtle ways the boys express their protectiveness?

Thank you for the request my love! I got to play a fun little game of ‘Eenie Meenie Miney Mo’ for which request to do.

Protective BatBoys

word count: 1600~

warnings: insinuation of someone getting hit by a car, mentions of attackers

I was quite tempted to write Bruce headcanons to this but I must hold back ><

Dick Grayson

Ah, Dick Grayson, the King of small romantic protective gestures

Every time, without fail, Dick will wait until he watches you get inside your house safely before driving/walking away

Its a really cute tick of his because he covers it up with a goodbye kiss and goofy waves that leave you giggling even after you close your house door

But its so he knows where you are, and he can see for himself that you made it safely inside because the second he turns away too soon, you may get locked out, or someone can crawl out from the bushes and nab you

Paranoid, he knows

He constantly wraps you up in things, when you two go swimming he’ll patter up from behind you and place a towel around your shoulders, patting you dry along the way

Very insignificant gesture but he doesn't want you to catch a cold in the A/C or Gotham wind

He’ll do the same with his jackets, maybe even plop his hat on your head when it's gets to the snowy seasons 1. Because its adorable seeing the hat fall into your eyes and 2. Because it'll warm your head up

Scarves too, he’ll even go on a tangent about how cold it is outside while he wraps you in it

Dick will always offer to drive you places, even if you insist on driving yourself to meet up with him or walking there, Dick will still offer because it means he’ll be present if you get into a wreck, sucks but then he can help with first aid

If you decline his offer though, he’ll politely ask for you to take Titus or Ace with you whenever you walk somewhere, they’re trained and he trusts them to keep you company/safe when he can't 

Jason Todd

Jason’s protectiveness comes from a place of knowing how cruel the world actually is

He can't stand the idea of anything happening to you

If he has to, he will use his reputation of Red Hood as a way to keep you safe, putting a man at gun point and sneering out, “They’re off. Limits.”

He’d bust a whole trafficking ring if it meant ending a person who touched you or hurt you in any way

But Jason’s protectiveness doesn't stop while he's wearing the helmet

Even when you two are sleeping, Jasons unconsciously protecting you, no matter how you two cuddle, Jason always positions himself as closest to the bedroom door

Whether his back is to the door or he’s facing it, Jason needs the comfort of knowing any person coming into the room would have to get through him before even reaching you

He also envelopes you, he's a big guy so its pretty easy for him to wrap you up in his arms as an extra layer of protection from the outside world

Jason doesn't really like the idea of training you past basic combat or gun skills, hell, he doesn't like involving you in the family business if he doesn't have to

So he inserts himself into any situation you may need protection in

Which is exactly why he starts going to the gym with you as a work out buddy

Jason makes it sound like he just wants to spend time with you or help you achieve your goals faster since he knows how the body works from his Robin days

But deep down you both know his true intentions: he wants to keep an eye on you

The gym is crawling with creeps that have the guts to ogle at you or get too touchy, but having Jason’s 6 foot beefcake of an ass standing beside you the entire time is like an instant creep repellent

Plus, he gets to spot you and make sure you don't get injured from bad technique or from pushing yourself too hard

He’ll even encourage you with innuendos the entire time, but at the end of the day, he’ll gladly walk you home

Tim Drake

Tim is the most subtle about his inner protectiveness, a subtle King if you will

Most times when he gets protective, you never even notice

When you two cuddle in your house, it takes him a very long time to actively fall asleep because he doesn't trust your home security system if you even have one so he forces himself to stay awake just incase anything happens

But don't worry, he’ll eventually get to updating the security in your house

He does get these protective eyes whenever something is off when he's around you, they narrow a bit and latch onto whatever is off, glaring holes into the offending object until its all clear

Its quite terrifying to witness and very hard to miss when Tim is staring dead at the man speaking to you from across the room at a Gala, sipping his drink in the corner

If he feels the need, he will walk up and control the situation, whether it mean inserting himself into the convo or simply being present for it, he’ll do it

The thing with Tim though, is when he's protective, he’s almost always touching you in some way

His fingers playing idly with the ends of your hair as he speaks to a random person who walked up to you, clinging to your shirt/sleeves when he’s analyzing a situation and doesn't want you to go forward just yet, or even as simple as holding your hand as he leads you home

Tim also keeps small snacks/waters on hand at all times to protect you from Gotham heat and pesky hunger, very much like a mother hen because he also carries a first aid kit everywhere

He follows you whenever you walk alone around Gotham at night, he’s already on patrol so he might as well make sure you make it home safe, if anything happens he won't think twice about intervening as RR

If your going out somewhere alone he always always always asks you to call him until you make it to your destination, he doesn't care if he's working on something or in the middle of a board meeting, he has an assistant for a reason who can give him notes

Its become a normal thing for you to send him your Uber tracking link so he can watch it, if you don't send it he won't hesitate to hack into your account just to find it

Damian Wayne

Damian? Wayne? Being subtle?

Its usually pretty obvious when Damian gets protective over you

He’s the type who won't hesitate to pull out a knife out of god knows where and threaten whatever is responsible for you being uncomfortable

This leads to very interesting encounters of you having to hold him back because ‘oh no a random guy bumped into you and didn't apologize’ and suddenly Damian is missing 

He’s also incredibly blunt, saying things like “Cover your drink” at galas or handing you one of those hand held tasers before you go out and saying “Go for the neck”

Will insist on training you himself, whether its hand-to-hand combat or with a sword, Damian wants to keep track of your progress himself so he can make sure all your weaknesses are trained

Its also because he doesn't want his grimy brothers near you, so its protective on all counts

But subtlety? Theres a few you can notice after being with him for awhile

He’s very careful when going out around Gotham with you, Damian knows he can fend for himself so he will gladly take the brunt of any possible situation

This leads to him always walking on whichever side of you thats closest to the road, so on the off chance a car derails, he’ll get hit first

Always making sure to match your pace when you two walk together, he doesn't want you getting too far ahead of him because he'd have to run to get to you, too far behind and he might not notice you getting taken silently, he wants you right in arms reach at all times

He has a permanent scowl and narrowed eyes but when he's protective, they get even more prominent

Bonus

All the BatBoys do the same exact thing out of instinct when it comes to protecting you

None of them will hesitate to step in between you and any attacker, pulling you behind them so they are in the line of fire now

Its a subtle action that each of them do, albeit with some differences

Damian will push the attacker back as far as he can from you, putting plenty of distance between the two of them and you, so if anything breaks out, you can run away easily

Dick will hold his arms out, fully covering you but keeping his hands in the fray so if the attacker tries attacking you from any angle, Dick is ready to protect

Tim will grip onto you somehow, keeping his hand right on your bicep or forearm so he can still hold you, he doesn't know if there can be a hidden attacker from behind that will pry you away from him, so touching you is his way of making sure he doesn't lose track of you

Jason will slip in front of you and cross his arms, its a sign of nonchalance but obvious dominance, showcasing that he doesn't need his hands to be intimidating to the attacker, he’ll glare and challenge them so all attention is on him now and not you

Taglist ♡

@anothertimdrakestan

@bungunz

@red-hood-redemption​