#he was like ‘there’s only first aid stands in the pit’ while she was sitting in the arquibancada (too angry to look up this word)

[drinkthemlock]

a 23 year old girl literally DIED at the taylor swift show in rio yesterday bc the organizers prohibited people from bringing water from home into the stadium and sold 300ml water cups for 8~10 FUCKING reais in a heat of 40° C (104° F)— while it was feeling more like 60° C (140° F). This can’t be fucking real.

these people (the company organizing the show) should be tried for manslaughter/attempted murder bc there was literally no reason except utter greed to prohibit ppl from bringing water and selling water at such a price. absolutely no fucking reason. the singer had to literally STOP THE SHOW at some point bc there were ppl passing out from dehydration in the pit. in fact more than ONE THOUSAND people PASSED OUT FROM DEHYDRATION in that fucking show. Bel Rodrigues (famous br book influenced and swiftie) was one of the people who became sick during the show and said the nurse at the first aid stand offered Clonazepam to “calm her down” because she was near passing out from the extreme heat. Clonazepam is the main agent in a heavily restricted drug only administered with a medical prescription in Brazil, it being usually prescribed for people with anxiety or epilepsy bc it slows down your heartbeat, and the nurse offered it to her at a concert. I don’t think I need to explain how fucking dangerous that is.

And today the show was rescheduled for Monday 30 MINUTES before it started “to protect fans from the heat.” Girl? There where ppl there since 10 AM (the show was scheduled for abt 6 PM). These people had already been in the scorching heat all day. If they really cared about the poor girl who died they would’ve cancelled the show yesterday or at least early this morning. This was ultimately for nothing. Also!! There were a bunch of fans from other states, including the girl (and remember, Brazil is a gigantic country— traveling from one state to another is like an international trip for some people, esp poorer people who can’t afford a plane ticket and have to travel by bus, in some cases it being over a day’s journey), and even other countries— two of my friends were there today, and they met two Chilean girls who had plane tickets back home purchased for tomorrow.

Also, since this has triggered some prejudiced attacks from non-brazilian fans of taylor swift, it must be said: this is not the fans’ fault, this is not Rio’s fault, this didn’t happen because the show was in Brazil. It happened because the organizers (the organizers that taylor’s team chose, btw) are greedy pigs. And that’s it. A law might be passed prohibiting shows from disallowing bringing water from home and demanding that it is sold for free during them. Which might be the only good thing we’re getting out of this.

… and this all ties back to the one thing everyone fears: global warming boiling. I’ve lived in Rio my entire life, though I may be young, and my family has lived here since the 1920s and earlier, so they can confirm: it didn’t use to be this hot. It’s so hot, all. year. long. This year there was practically no winter! While part of the country is burning, the other being buried underwater because of out-of-season torrential rains. And it’s only gonna get worse.

[randomnameless]

I'm having a really hard time fathoming how some people consider SB to be a righteous/heroic route or a route where we're the good guys. The route where:

You invade two independent nations under the pretence of "saving their citizens from oppression" (though I guess you can't be oppressed anymore if you're dead lol) even though Her Majestic Hypocrisy repeats a bunch of times that she's in for conquest and that she'd obliterate anyone who stands in her way.

The cast keeps victim-blaming the invaded parties for *checks note* defending their countries. 

The death toll is the highest. You have to kill Ingrid, Rodrigue, Gustave and Sylvain. And you can also kill Ashe, Mercedes (btw, if she dies, the cutscene where Dimitri and Dedue grieve changes slightly, which is nice), Annette, Shamir, Ignatz, Raphael and Marianne (how does Margrave Edmund feel about Claude's alliance with the empire knowing his daughter was killed by its army?). 

IIRC, this is the only route where you conscript merchants into the imperial army. No wonder the empire has the biggest army.

Based Rhea who, despite being hunted, still thinks about the safety of the continent first in the final chapter. It's hilarious how characters like Edespot or Clyde harp on about how Rhea is the big bad, and in the few scenes you have with her, she's just kind? Anyway. Rhea based.

In the C support conversation - which happens right after Felix got seriously injured and Sylvain got killed- there's this bit where Dimitri is like "I don't know if I can talk with like everything is normal, so many have died already" and Edespot's response is basically "yeah I don't see it that way. Let's agree to disagree". Also, I believe she wonders if she shouldn't just kill Clyde and Dimitri once they're out. Even though Clyde is her ally at the moment. You bet on the wrong lord, Clyde... 

I probably forgot a few stuff, but... oh well.

To be honest,

The only things I like about Supreme Bullshit are :

Its ending! Supreme Leader and Barney (well, at least they throw a sword?) being sitting ducks while Rhea steals the show, and sacrifices herself in an epic shonen scene to get rid of the real threat, aka showing that unlike someone, she knows how to prioritize, and it ends up in an explosion. It matches the ending of the F-Zero anime (at 0.48!), Rhea/Falcon rushes to deal a blow (a Falcon punch and a Seiros strike I guess?) to their mortal enemy, there is a giant explosion, and both Rhea/Falcon fade away in a blinding light. Too bad the Supreme Bullshit BGM is eons away from "Searching to the Truth" :(

The reveal that Rhea kept the keys to the sekrit passages in the Imperial Palace - or Rhea knows more about Enbarr and its castle than the current Emperor and her aides...

Doro's paralogue being incredibly tone deaf about, uh, soldiers being "too busy" by the Mittelfrank troupe, that they can't basically protect the dancers/performers from bandits, when the paralogue happens in an area that is expressedly supposed to be full of soldiers!

If starts align in a certain way, it's the only route in Nopes where Clout dies!

Leopold! He's like Victarion Greyjoy, only if he was taken seriously. But we, as players, know better! Also he's a living retcon, from having a major cichol crest to gift to his son because he fought well (and not to, say, Big B or even Ferdie) a sacred weapon despite the route being all about muhritocracy!

Supreme Leader plans and plays with the cards she has in her hand - from trying to get good PR to get rid of people (Varley sr) by pitting them against her next target (the CoS)!

An entire game full of new Supreme Replies (tm)!

For shippers around, it has a Cathmir scene where everyone knows Shamir will prioritize Catherine's life over her allegeance! too bad this is a Supreme Leader route, so no, Shamir won't fucking try to kill her for blackmailing her and can even kill Catherine herself later on....

That's not a lot lol, and most of it are breadcrumbs because for the proper plot...

Yeah, it kinds of sucks.

Supreme Bullshit is even more tone deaf with the War and its realities than Tru Piss (and that's a feat!), Ferdie being completely, uh, off the mark about everything (invading lands and rekting people, and then saying those people's fears are only in their heads! Pal, one of the first missions in the SB exclusive chapters is to rout refugees??? + the nonsense about the Kingdom having more crested generals, when data shows the Empire has more crested peeps than the Kingdom!), Caspar being turned in the worst version of himself who dgaf anymore about protecting "innocents" and "justice", and, uh, everything with Monica.

Victim blaming is the norm with Fodlan games, but yeah, it really feels odd that suddenly, in the Zahras chapters, Dimitri's all "okay" when his closest friends either died or were grievly injured and the game proceeds as it does when, come on, why wouldn't Dimitri kill her the second they're out of the Zahras verse??

I really disliked how Supreme Bullshit yeeted Ionius from Adrestia, or how it didn't explore in more depth the Insurrection of the Seven, especially since we side with Leopold'n'Waldemar against Ludwig, who used to be allies! Also, as far as I remember, no one mentions anything about Arundel, why he ran away to the Kingdom with a young Supreme Leader and how he changed when he returned, or something?

If Ludwig is pushed by Supreme Leader, reciting her Dad's words, as the one who led the insurrection and the experiments on her, why the fuck no one else mentions them, as Leopold and Waldemar were on Aegir's side back then? They don't even mention "Arundel" participating, like, Volkhard sides against Ionius and hides his niece, but 3 months later, he returns and offers her as a guinea pig?

As is the norm with the Supreme Leader routes, the "truth" isn't what we're looking for, because we know Supreme Leader pushes a narrative she will follow to reach her goals, but where Tru Piss gave hints here and there about her narrative being, uh, rubish, we have no clues here, and Leopold prefers to flash his loincloth than giving us anything meaningful about that incident.

When you compare them to Matthias and Rodrigue (and Gilbert?) who often mention Lambert "back in the days", it's more and more obvious that... we're not supposed to ask questions in Supreme Bullshit, and just go with the flow.

And it ends with a high five.

I'd say it deviates less from Tru Piss than Golden Shower does from Verdant Winds, but it's an "expected disappointment".

That's why my only higlights are not plot relevant (save for the Captain Falcon - Rhea parallel) - because we know the plot will never deliver something meaningful in a Supreme Leader route.

[angst-king]

fight for ya

(This is a Katsuki + MtF child reader parent scenario) (CW mention of transphobia, description of violent hate crime & injuries)

Katsuki had many regrets about his past and always wanted to improve himself and he was rather good at keeping his word. He wanted to show this especially once his daughter came out as trans to him. He made sure she felt loved that she didn’t need to hide and that he would back her up completely. Even while transitioning socially, Katsuki learned how to style her hair, which helped get her into the girls' school uniforms. Not much changed except she seemed happier at first.

Then things took a turn, some days were better than others, and although Katsuki wasn’t the best at comforting he would listen. He’d sit with his daughter and listen to her vent, or let her scream out her frustrations while practicing her boxing. He would occasionally ask for help from his own friends about how to comfort her, Momo mentioned using words of affirmation and instilling in her that she was loved and that she had someone who thought of her fondly.

Implementing that did seem to help a little, though he still wanted his kid to know that he was available and he’d come up to the school and handle it for her if she needed. (Y/n) always pushed away his offers, saying she wanted to handle it herself. Katsuki decided to back off with his offers after the third time, yet he still continued with his support.

Then he felt his entire world crash. When he sent his daughter to school he had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. That something would go wrong, that he shouldn’t have sent her. He tried to push it away as paranoia, his daughter was strong, and she’d call him if anything happened.

He was organizing paperwork with Deku in his office when the radio went off telling Katsuki get down to the lobby area fast! Getting up from his seat he dropped his paperwork and ran out of the office with Deku in tow. Arriving at the entrance he saw Ochako carrying his daughter to the couch. The child held her abdomen as she was set down. Katsuki ran over with worry pouring out of him. When he got close enough he froze. (Y/N) was covered in bruises and blood, and her hair which was usually in it neat ponytail with her favorite pro-hero-themed ribbon was now blood-soaked and a mess. Blood dripping down their nose, and mouth foreheads. The uniform torn up and dirtied, looked like she had been tossed into gravel!

“What happened, (Y/N)?” The middle schooler looked up nervously, obviously shaken up by whatever they had just experienced. Stammering too much to get it out, Ochako started to ask the questions.

“Just yes or no, were you in a fight, hun?” (Y/n) nodded and winced, Ochako continued.

“Was this a fight at school?” “y-yes ma’am” Before Ochako could ask, Deku handed her the first aid kit he grabbed once he saw the child’s condition. Ochako started working on the injuries while Katsuki’s head was overloaded with thoughts.

‘How could this happen’ ‘who would do this’ ‘Why didn’t a teacher handle this?’ and many more!

The girl could see her father being consumed by his thoughts and spoke up.

“d-Don’t worry d-dad, g-got some good hits on ‘em” Katsuki gave a small smile seeing the proud look on (Y/n)’s face. That still didn’t make any of this better, whether she defended herself or not she shouldn’t have had to! Katsuki hated seeing his child hurt! There was a rage in him that burned bright, he had to do something about this, he couldn’t stand by after seeing his daughter like this!

“I’m gonna handle this, i promise, munchkin” He said a lil more to himself than his daughter. Katsuki then started helping Ochako tend to the child’s injuries and getting the blood out of her hair. It was a process that only made more emotions stir. When (Y/n) was finally about to calm themselves down enough to talk, it took everything in Katsuki’s power to not go on a witch hunt right then and there.

“I was going back inside for class after gym when I got grabbed by a group of classmates and they started beating on me. I did what you taught me, i didn’t wanna cause too much damage but wanted to get away….In the end, I’m pretty sure I’ll take the fall but. I-its fine i guess.”

“No.” Katsuki blurted out, and the child’s eyes shifted up at her father who stood up at full height now. An aura of rage flowed from him even if he looked calm in the face, it wasn’t hard for anyone to know he was angry. Grabbing his phone he opened the notes app and handed it to the girl.

“If you know the names of those…kids put them down…put everything down. How long this has gone on for and everything that happened today.” (Y/n) nodded took the phone and spent a good amount of time typing. Katsuki moved away to give her space and went over to deku and grabbed him by the shirt. Dragging him away into the kitchen area of the lounge.

“Kaachan what are you doing?” Deku asked confused, Katsuki sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn’t face Izuku completely, just glanced at him as he tried to gather his thoughts. Finally, he says.

“I feel like a fucking idiot” He leans against the countertop, Izuku’s eyes softened and he asked for Katsuki to elaborate.

“I should’ve done more so this wouldn’t have happened, I should’ve gone up to that school myself instead of letting her handle it….I know she said that she could and that she would be fine but…still, I feel like a dick because I didn’t just go up there and now my child got beat up!” There was a moment of silence before Izuku spoke up.

“Kaachan, you can’t fix the past, you cannot fix or erase what has happened. Yes it was awful, it is fucked up that your child became a victim of a hate crime, but. Its not like you expected this to happen, you put your trust in your daughter, and in the school system. The person you should be upset with is the school for allowing such behavior! So instead of standing here feeling sorry for yourself, you get the notes from your daughter, take her out for some damn ice cream or something. Then the next day you march your ass to that school and tell them off!” Katsuki was a little surprised at Deku’s change in tone from start to finish. First, it was light-hearted and reassuring, but then quickly changed to strict and coach-like. Yet Katsuki got the message and went back out to check on (Y/n).

Still on the couch though seemingly in less pain, she hands the phone to Katsuki who sits down beside her. Opening his arms the child quickly hugs him, he wraps his arms around her loosely a to not hurt her. Whispering soft things into her ear telling her how proud he was of her. How he was glad she came to him for help, she didn’t have to go to school tomorrow, how he was gonna take care of the situation. He still apologized for not doing anything sooner. He promised to take her out to her favorite place before going home.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

hiii :) I'm requesting a marauders match up plz <3

Gender: female

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: demi-sexual/pan-romantic

Appearance: white, dirty blonde hair that's just past the shoulders and messy/wavy, glasses, green eyes, plus size (large belly and butt), I have two cartilage piercings and usually wear fun, colorful earrings and rings.

(MBTI &/or Engram if you would like to take the tests and add it): when I took the test, I got a 9, but my therapist told me I'm a 4 (do with that what you will)

Personality: big platonic lover - love telling friends I love them, but I'm pretty shy with romantic/sexual attraction. I'm loud when I start to feel comfortable in social situations, I'm very anxious about how others perceive me and I like to be prepared for anything (e.g. I always have band-aids, safety pins, allergy medicine, tums, etc.)

Likes (at least like three things): hanging out outside when the temperature is like the perfect fall crisp (kind cold, but not quite) - extra points if there's a fire pit; hosting a party to get all of my friends together; feeling cared for; putting together legos/puzzles; card games; laughing

Dislikes (at least three things): olives; when it's too hot outside (like 75+F); people who are passive aggressive/can't hold space for others

Extra fun fact (this is about whoever you are describing to me): I have, on multiple occasions, flown across the country or driven 6+ hours to surprise my friends/family.

thank you so much <3<3<3

(ps. If you match me with Peter, I will trust your instincts, but I will also cry thank you)

~~~~~ MATCHUP ~~~~~

Marauders Era

Regulus Balck

~~~~~ HEADCANON ~~~~~

He is a quiet man himself. He noticed you hanging out with his younger brother's friends, and something about your warmth melted his icy heart.

He loves how you care for his brother in a way he can't.

He admires your beauty from afar and asks his brother when they talk about you often.

After Sirius left their home to live with James, he bucked up the courage to talk to you.

He knew it was a risk, but your light was so warm that he couldn't bear to miss out on you.

He was terrified of any physical contact for a while.

He always asks for permission before he does anything to you out of fear you will abandon him.

One night, he snuck into the Gryffindor common room with all of you and sat around the fire with everyone, actually smiling and laughing for once.

That same night, you two shared your first kiss.

Sirius thanks you every day for saving his brother.

As Regulus's seventh year approached, he became much more withdrawn and cold to you.

When you found out his family forced him to be a death eater, you stayed by his side in secret, only meeting occasionally and traveling far distances to avoid the eyes of the others on you.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

You were sitting near the black lake, where a fresh blanket of snow had just fallen the night before. You knew if Regulus was going anywhere after an altercation with his family, it would be out here. Earlier in the day, you heard in the great hall as a Howler from the black family ripped into Regulus; ever since Sirius left, the abuse had only gotten worse on the older sibling. Not too long after the letter chewed itself up, you saw Bellatrix talking to her cousin, and it probably was nothing good. As you were trapped in your thoughts, you failed to notice the presence standing next to you by the water. He cleared his throat, and you turned to look at him. He seemed reasonably okay, but just because the scars weren't visible didn't mean the hidden ones weren't deep.

You smiled at the man and held your hand out; he looked at it before slowly taking your hand, allowing you to lead him wherever you intended to. As you two made it over to the tree line, you pulled out a blanket from your bag and made a somewhat cozy spot to sit until the snow melted through the thick layer. Regulus sat down beside you, looking out on the lake again. You sighed, " I heard what happened; how are you holding up." Regulus shrugged, "As good as I can, now that Sirius is safe out of the house, I am the new target of all problems for the black family." You nodded solemnly as you took in his words. Trying to think quickly on your feet to fix the situation and bring Regulus at least to his default bored expression, you came up with the perfect plan. You stood up and extended your hand out to the boy.

He took your hand once more, trusting you to guide him. You remembered that the boys and Lily planned to go to the three broomsticks today to relax. Nothing made Regulus more happy than seeing you and his brother happy. Leading the way, you soon entered the establishment. As if almost on queue, the group excitedly shouted to the older boy, smiling, waving him over. You could feel Regulus warming up; something about finally belonging always made him happier. As you enjoyed your drinks and games, you noticed your partner relaxing and forgetting all the hateful stuff his family had said. Who could ask for more than to see your partner happy to be alive?

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(Regulus and you were sitting at a park swinging on the playground, watching as a storm rolled in.)

Y/N: Do you ever think muggles who believe witches melt in water also believe that all magic folk can do is cast curses.

Regulus: They probably also think we are green with warts.

Y/N: We dork, but they obviously only think magic folk are women. Have you seen all their plays and shows?

Regulus: With these gorgeous locks, I could definitely pass.

Y/N: Maybe we should test their theory by staying out in the rain and seeing if we dissolve.

Regulus: Honey, all you will accomplish is get a cold again.

[mythuslegendahistoria]

The Forest

"At least twenty men have gone missing in the forest." A local man said to Marse. He watched two mothers scolding their sons for playing on the border of the aforementioned forest.

"How many women and children have been lost to the woods?" Marse inquired.

Another local spoke, "None, a child wandered in once and the father went after him. The child came back out, the father was never found."

Marse turned back to the locals, “Then why bother telling the children to stay away?”

“Whatever foul thing is in there, it could change its mind at any day.”

The nearby villagers rightly feared the forest, sensing there was more to these missing men than anything accidental. The locals knew there was sinister, willful intent within the deep darkness of the forest. So did Marse, who decided to halt his journey to aid the frightened souls surrounding it.

“Be warned stranger, you are not the first traveler or warrior who tried to solve this mystery. There are likely many more men who have gone missing there that we do not know about.”

Marse shook his head to the warning, “I’m sure there has been, on both accounts. I am more accustomed to danger than most warriors and adventurers, I assure you.”

Marse was the precise target of desire. He will use it to put an end to this mysterious danger.

In the silence of the forest, the pounding heart will fill one’s ears. The sudden scurries of little animals would send the body into its natural survival reaction. The eerie woods make the hairs of their body stand up. The dark forest was hiding something, so too did Marse, he thought to himself. The unnatural territory already betrayed its intention, Marse’s only hint being his unshaken prowl through it.

The smell of damp earth and decaying leaves filled the air and Marse’s nose. The only sounds were that of occasional chirping of birds, scampering of small animals, or the rustling of leaves in the wind. The tall, dense trees casted long shadows on the ground. Hours passed by, Marse found nothing abnormal that attributed to the missing men. He kept pressing on even when the minuscule sunlight that remained had finally disappeared.

Marse’s ears at last picked up something out of place, the distant crackling of a fire. Marse made his way in that direction in silence. As Marse drew near, he heard the hissing of a snake at his feet. Marse immediately stepped away from the snake he could not spot and felt the ground beneath give way to a steep slope.

Marse stumbled and fell. He landed down by a cave and immediately heard stirrings from inside. Marse sat up quickly to face the cave entrance. A lit fire pit created a swaying light, taunting him with flickering light that illuminated the darkness. To Marse’s surprise, two comely women came out. One had dark black hair, while the other had fiery red hair. Priestesses and Druids make a practice out of dwelling in the forest, Marse thought. He had seen and heard of stranger things. Still, he remained wary while willing to extend the benefit of the doubt. Marse was here to resolve issues, not create them.

“Excuse my intrusion. I have been lost and made a false step.”

Marse kept his voice steady and calm. It was partially true, he was lost in what he seeked after all. The woman with black hair saunters to Marse, giving him the glad eye. A look that he recognized and had mixed feelings about receiving.

“No need to be sorry, stranger. You were bound to have an accident wandering in this forest at night. My name is Daisy.”

Marse hears the other woman crouch down to his level and crawl to him. He turned to the red haired woman, she crawled uncomfortably close to him to sit down and whisper to him in a sultry tone.

“I’m Ember, there is no need to be shy, you’re welcome to stay with us for the night.”

Marse looked between the two striking women. There was something off about them, a primal warning inside him. Yet, it was in his best interest to keep the situation cordial. Marse introduced himself properly before moving to the glaring question, “Why are you here in the forest?”

The women looked at each other, and then Daisy spoke. "We live in the forest because it's our home," she said. "We're the guardians of the forest, and we protect it from those who would harm it."

Guardians. Marse could understand that vocation. Being lonely guardians would make many appear strange to the civilized. With some hesitation and gentle interrogation, Marse finally accepted the women's invitation. It was custom of the land to provide hospitality to strangers, and accept it graciously as the stranger. Marse could continue his search when the new day began. 

Marse found it difficult to analyze the attractive women while their words grew more flirtatious and their actions became more of physical advances. Marse felt skeptical for a while, though he had to keep reminding himself that they were isolated women. Seclusion has a way of creating desires in social intercourse. Aside from thoughts of justification, it did not take long for his loins to burn for the captivating women. In time, he succumbed to their seduction. Having a new reason to stay up for the night.

The three bodies were intertwined, basking in the afterglow of the rapture they shared. Marse comes down from the heated exchange and notices a glint in the eyes of the bewitching women. They had a look of hunger and desire. Marse’s instincts told him this look had predatory intent. Daisy encouraged this concern as she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“You know, we have not shown you our true nature yet.”

Marse looked at Ember in front of him, who was licking her lips. Her eyes darkened in anticipation. He felt a danger to their seduction. He looks back and forth between the two,

“What do you mean?”

Marse hears a low hiss coming from Daisy, one that did not sound all too human. He turns to see her lips curl up into a wicked grin.

“We’re hunters, sweetie. And you are our prey,” she says with her voice dripping with desire.

Ember looks at Marse hungrily, her eyes glowing in the dim light of the dwindling fire. The two beguiling women pull away slightly from him, Marse then watches them in surprise as their bodies contort. Their skin mostly turned to scales. Their legs morphed to serpentine tails. Their bodies revealed their true forms; Lamias.

"But we're not going to eat you... at least, not yet," Ember purrs, tracing her finger lightly over Marse’s skin, "We want to play with you first."

Daisy nods in agreement, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips. Revealing newly formed fangs and her long tongue, "And trust us, you're going to love every minute of it."

Marse pulls away from the lamias, recoiling with disgust, “Not yet?! You're going to use me to amuse yourselves, then eat me?!"

Daisy chuckles, a low growling sound. "Oh, do not worry, sweetie. We won't eat you... until we've fully, thoroughly enjoyed you."

Ember slithers towards Marse, her eyes full of hunger. "We want to feel your warmth, your scent, your pleasure-" She raises up and continues her approach. "We want to play with you until we can't take it anymore, until we're absolutely starving for you."

Marse in turn stands up and backs away, “No amount of gratification is worth being devoured.”

The lamias respond with disappointed hisses. They both rose up to close the distance on Marse, their movements smooth yet feral.

"Such a shame, we thought you enjoyed our game," Daisy says.

Ember nods, her expression darkening. "But do not think you'll get away that easily, human. We still need to feed, and you're the perfect prey."

Marse now understood their predatory intent. He made vain attempts to talk them out of it. The two lamias kept advancing at Marse, ignoring his gestures. His bag and weapon were too great a distance away to acquire and act swift enough. Before Marse could attempt action, the two snakes pounced on him and restrained him. Ember bared her teeth in a malicious smile.

“Time to feed.”

Daisy presses her lips against Marse’s lips and invades his mouth. To Marse, it felt like a passionate kiss. Until Daisy bit his tongue off, making him only able to gurgle and groan. Daisy knew what to go for first, suppressing the ability to call out. Muffling any attempts to scream with her own mouth. A nightmarish moment for any human, unable to call for help as they are utterly helpless and at the mercy of their predators. Ember, not to be outdone, takes Marse’s exposed member in her mouth, a repetition of earlier intercourse. But instead of delectation, Marse felt a sharp, intense pain. 

Ember proceeds to bite it off, chewing on it with groans of delight. Marse writhes in torment as blood oozes from his wounds, knowing the experience of prey torn apart by vicious predators. Daisy and Ember stood over Marse, their eyes glinting with satisfaction.

"That's the end of the game, little human," Daisy says, licking her lips.

Marse closed his eyes, trying to fight back against the suffering in vain. A game? This is how they view their actions? Familiar emotions replaced and blocked out the throbbing of his wounds, anger and resentment only he knew the history to. Marse bore witness first hand to what the missing men had experienced. It was time to strike back. 

To the shock of the lamias, Marse’s body glowed fiery red in the locations he had been harmed. Daisy and Ember backed away as he stood up, a newfound perturbation in their hearts they never knew existed. Marse spits the blood out of his mouth at the serpents, making them recoil in surprise. Before the lamias’ eyes both of his bodily tools regrew. Daisy and Ember look at each other with confusion and horror. The lamias nearly jumped when Marse spoke with a new, more malign voice.

"You're right, the game is over. I found who is responsible."

Daisy and Ember’s eyes widen, beginning to perceive that they are the ones being hunted all along. Marse advanced towards them, the lamias backed away at the same pace but dare not try to flee. The monstrous women’s instinct of flight had never been used before, the instinct of their den being the safest place overriding reason.

"Lure men in, use them for your own enjoyment, then eat them. The answer to the mystery in this forest."

Daisy’s voice cracks as she speaks up , "W-w-we have to eat to survive. It's what we've always done. It's our nature."

Marse grunted in annoyance at her response, taking on his own new form without missing a step in his stride. He grew taller, muscles accented his body. Fur emerged over his hair as well as new places. Ears morphed above his head like that of canines. A long, slightly bushy tail came out from behind him. His hands formed into claws. 

The new wolf quickly closed the distance on the two snakes and grabbed them by their necks. Marse lifted Daisy and Ember up off the ground, who struggled and clawed at him. The two women looked at each other, seeing mutual alarm and regret in their expressions in a silent agreement that they could not effectively harm this strange wolf.

Neither one of them could figure out why they did not smell the wolf’s scent until now. Even now as they picked it up, something about it smelled wrong, different. Marse gave them his own growl that vibrated shivers in their bodies and yanked them out of those thoughts.

"Your nature is not to lure anyone, but to hunt. There are animals to hunt in any direction you pick. You've been doing it for your own amusement, not survival."

"Then, what do you want from us?" Ember asks in a meek voice.

Marse bared his own fangs with an amused grin. "I believe in the punishments fitting the crimes. Your last moments will be sharing the same fate you forced on many men."

Daisy and Ember look at each other, sharing mutual awareness of the gravity of their situation. They have no doubts that they are facing a powerful force that will not spare them. Yet they still had to try.

"Please, have mercy," Daisy pleads, her eyes pleading for forgiveness. 

"We won't do it again, we promise." Ember added, "Please, let us live."

Marse gripped their necks tighter, causing them to lose their ability to speak momentarily, "I can't help but think about how many men begged for you to spare them. Would the punishment fit the crime if I listened to your pleas of mercy?"

Daisy and Ember shrink to Marse’s intimidating presence, the recognition sinking in that they are being judged by the same standards they used to prey on their victims. Daisy and Ember look at Marse, their expressions pleading and pitiful.

"Please, we'll do anything," Ember begs, desperation ringing in her voice. 

Daisy follows up, "We understand what we did was wrong, and we're sorry. Please, forgive us."

Marse lowered Daisy back down to the ground. She looked up at him with a glimmer of hope. Daisy let out a blood curdling cry as Marse breaks her vertebrae. The glimmer dying by the blade of pain. Daisy’s body screamed at her with every attempt to move. 

Marse turned to Ember and used both of his hands to force her down, “I noticed that you love devouring the manhood of your victims, now it will be the last thing you do.”

Ember tries to squirm away, but Marse holds her head firmly, "No, please, do not do this!" Ember cries out.

Ember’s pleas are ignored, her mouth used for Marse’s rapture. While Ember is being forced to gag and choke, she attempts to bite down on it again. His flesh was far tougher than it had been before. Not only that, her mouth and throat burned unnaturally. The heat came from the peter inside. Ember struggled in every way she could to remove Marse from her mouth. Only for Ember’s body to tell her she no longer had the strength to keep fighting.

Ember looked up at Marse with disgust and agony. Ember’s expression was met with another relishing in her anguish. Marse erupted a liquid of boiling temperatures. He held her head full hilt to prevent her from spitting anything out. Ember's body convulses, only able to groan from the intense affliction. Even Ember’s groans stop soon enough, her convulsions dying down as her body goes limp. Ember had given up on surviving, only wishing for death to mercifully end her torment. The only signs of life seen in her face.

Ember heard the chirping of the birds, the rustling of critters in the morning as the sun rose for a new day. The world began anew, oblivious or ignoring Ember’s plight of being burned up within as it started the new cycle. Ember knew this would be the last time she saw the sun, unable to have its rays on her skin in the shadows of the forest. The comforting smell of the trees was faint in Ember’s nose with the scent of her killer at the forefront. The safe haven was to become the site of Ember’s brutal end, and she accepted this resolution.

Only when the life of Ember’s eyes finally leaves her does Marse push her off. The lamia’s lifeless body fell to the ground, the regret of her choices etched onto her face. Daisy trembled looking at her motionless companion. The surviving serpent woman kept struggling to move with her broken vertebrae, her body refusing to cooperate. Daisy looked up to see Marse saunter over menacingly, the tone of his voice that of sarcastic malice.

"Since you were so kind as to offer me a choice between being used for your delight and becoming devoured, or being eaten alive on the spot. I will give you a choice in how you die. Your body can break as I use it, or your body can be torn apart as I explore it.”

Daisy struggled to speak, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper, "P-p-please do not kill me, I'll do anything you want," she whimpers.

Marse knelt down to Daisy and grabbed her head to make her look directly at him, "How many men begged as you are now?"

Daisy's eyes dart away, unable to meet his gaze as she mutters, "Many, too many."

Marse shook Daisy’s head to make her look at him again, “And how many did you spare?”

"Not one," she whispers as she looks away again, unable to look at him directly.

Marse had no hint of surprise to Daisy’s answer. He let go of her head and spoke again with cold malevolence.

“So then choose, your body breaks or it gets ripped apart.”

Daisy looked up at Marse, tears streaming down her scaly face. Daisy struggled to muster up the courage to choose her method of death. Daisy’s fearfulness of the death and torture following the choices, alongside the aching of her body, were substantial. Unable to contain her emotions anymore, she pleads, "Mercy, please. I beg of you… show mercy."

Marse covered Daisy’s head with his minacious claws. Only his venomous voice filled her senses, “Since all you can do is beg for mercy, it is only fitting that I tear you apart as you did to so many men that did the same."

Daisy closed her eyes and sobbed uncontrollably. "No, please, I do not want to die like that," she pleads, struggling against her broken body. "I'll do anything, just please spare me."

Marse pushes Daisy on her back, exposing her body to him forcefully. "Your fate is sealed, Daisy. You brought this upon yourself with your depravity and cruelty." He leaned in closer, his eyes blazing with an otherworldly fire. "This is the end of your short life."

Daisy repeated her pleas of mercy, unable to process and convey anything else from her mind to her mouth. The moist papillae used for speaking now served its other purpose of licking as it explored Daisy’s body, sending chills that her body and mind argued over the meaning of. Daisy’s feeble words are replaced by the first scream as Marse bites her lips after licking them. Marse acted swiftly and fiercely, tearing Daisy apart and spitting her flesh all around her. 

Daisy could only groan and moan in her overwhelming agony, unable to make any louder sounds with the extensive affliction. Everywhere Daisy could look, she saw pieces of herself and her blood decorating her home. A piece of her was thrown in the dying flames of the fire, not recognizable anymore. Finally, Daisy rested her eyes on the body of her former companion, the last thing she ever saw. The images of their heinous acts together, her last thoughts.

Marse kept ravaging the dead lamia’s body apart until there was nothing left intact. Bones, flesh, organs, muscles, and scales laid scattered over the whole den. Marse stood up and slowly returned back to his normal form, now covered in a crimson color of the one that thought she could prey upon him. He stood upon the scene of murder with only one thought: The mystery was solved… and dealt with.

Marse knew that some would look at him with revulsion for his act. Others would see it as justice being served. Marse was dispassionate to the reactions he would get, especially from those who would be hypocrites in condemning him. Marse already knew one fact; Marse is a monster, he needed no one to remind him of that. In the end, this was a clash of monsters.

[saintlike78]

Hey Love! Since u want to know my requests here go more one; Marauders x Fem!Reader (I'm a just a little bit obsessed about them hihi:), the reader is pregnant from her first baby and she's so emotional and sensitive cuz pregnancy hormones and she's crying for everything, at the same time she gets mad about anything, and she's horny all time, so she's like a mess of feelings.

(I thought this idea after seeing a scene from Grey's Anatomy, so if you want to check it out to understand; season 9, episode 12, minutes 02:40 to 04:00)

By; Cora🌈 (and the fic that u made about my last request is more perfect than I ever imagined <3)

Those stupid hormones [Poly Marauders]

A/N: Another great request from Cora! This was so fun to write. We all know that out three boys would be the sexiest dilfs ever, you can’t prove me wrong.

Pairings: Poly! Marauders x Fem! Pregnant! Reader

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: NSFW 16+, very soft and fluffy, dry humping, polyamorous relationship, pregnancy pains, mention of morning sickness and nausea. As always lmk if I missed anything.

The cool water dripped down your face as you stared at your flushed reflection; pink from the blush that had crept its way up your neck and latched itself onto your cheeks. The nap you had woken from had done nothing to soothe the surge of emotions that ran through you like electricity, the cause being the life growing in your belly. The news of your pregnancy had brought you and your husbands nothing but immense joy, but actually being pregnant was another story and you weren’t even that far along, already dreading the next few months filled with pain and changes – you just wanted your baby to be here already and spare you the grittiness in between.

Having dried your face with your towel and concluding that the pink that had overtaken your face and neck wasn’t going away, you made your way to the living room where the hushed voices of your husbands were residing. Trudging down the hallway you could feel the warmth between your legs, arousal churning, making your face even pinker than it already was.

Having finally made it to the living room you looked upon your three beautiful men, enjoying seeing them relaxed just being with each other and waiting for you.

James and Sirius were seated on the long couch, cuddled up in one end and conversing gently with one another, a rare sight of calm between the two.

Remus was sitting in the armchair with a book in hand focused on the words in front of him not paying attention to James and Sirius’ conversation, but smiling fondly when his eyes sometimes left the page to observe two of his lovers.

As Remus’ eyes left the page for his momentary check on Pads and Prongs, he caught sight of your figure looming in the doorway, a gentle smile on your face as you also observed the two men on the couch.

“Hi bun, good nap?” Remus asked as soon as he noticed you, closing and putting his book down on the small table beside the armchair; the two others looking up as well and smiling at you.

You only hummed in acknowledgment as you made your way towards the scarred man who’d asked the question, crawling on the chair to straddle his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck not giving him any time to process before your lips were on his in a needy kiss. Even though he was surprised, he reciprocated in no time wrapping his arms around your body and holding you closer to him. You whined lowly into the kiss as he slipped his tongue past your lips, your hips instinctively grinding down gently, testing the waters.

Your kiss was interrupted by the sound of Sirius clearing his throat very loudly and dramatically, not enjoying not being a part of whatever was going on between yourself and Remus. You turned your head to look at the culprit of the sound, breathing heavily as you stared at him with wide eyes, both James and Sirius looking back at you with a questioning raised eyebrow.

Remus placed a hand on your cheek to turn your face back to face his, his own brow also raised to match the two others' look of questioning.

“What’s going on Bunny? Not that I’m complaining, just curious,” Remus asked, but a cheeky smile and tone replacing his normal calm and serious voice.

Sirius adding to Remus’ question, “I’m also taking it you’re not cross with us anymore.” Sirius referring to the reason for you taking your nap; you practically being sent to bed after snapping at James for making your tea too hot, then being told off by Remus and Sirius only for you to cry and snap at them as well and Remus ‘suggesting’ a nap for you to cool down.

“No, I’m sorry for being mean… especially to you, Jamie,” you turned to look at James, giving him an apologetic smile.

“That’s okay, baby… I know you didn’t mean it,” he smiled back, his usual big goofy smile, letting you know that he wasn’t upset any longer, probably never was.

You turned back to Remus, looking into his eyes and letting yourself momentarily be lost in them, “I just really need you right now,” you said distractedly, earning yourself a smile from the lycanthrope you were seated on.

Remus leaned forward to kiss your nose, your face scrunching up in the process. His hands snaked around to grip under the back of your thigs before standing with you in his strong grasp, making the short journey to the couch and waiting for James and Sirius to break from each other so that he could seat himself between them.

When Remus was seated with you comfortably, James reached forward to tug a piece of hair behind your ear, stroking your cheek in the process.

“You feeling better, darling? You still feeling poorly?” James asked, your days lately having been filled with nausea, morning sickness, and discomfort.

“I’m feeling better… just a little achy,” you sighed.

“Where are you achy?” Sirius reached forward to rub up and down the expanse of your back, whilst his other hand rubbed gentle circles on your growing stomach.

“A little in my back… my boob… and my…” you paused, taking Sirius’ hand moving it lower on your stomach, right above your ache, “… here.”

“Ahh, I see,” Sirius nodded calmly, though Remus and James didn’t miss the small sparkle in Sirius’ eyes at the excitement.

You slowly started grinding your hips onto Remus’, frustrated tears gathering in your eyes at your desperation, “please,” you breathed out.

“Aww, bunny, don’t cry… we’ll help you out,” Remus laughed, grabbing your sides to stabilize you.

“Don’t laugh at me! I can’t help it… I’m so achy,” your frustration was clear, and the tears that had gathered threatened to spill.

“We’re not laughing, darling, you’re just so adorable,” James grinned, taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers with his.

“I’m sorry, please just help me… please,” the first tears fell and slowly ran down your cheeks as you continued your grinding, not actually sure why you were crying.

Sirius removed the hand from your back and wiped your tears with the pad of his thumb while cooing, “Don’t worry, puppy, we got you.”

With that he reached a hand into the loose shorts you were wearing, reaching under the waistband of your panties as well, not wanting to put any more stress on you by teasing, his fingers instantly found your clit.

You did miss the rougher sex you would have before you found out you were pregnant, but the boys refused to put you in any sort of stressful situation when you were already going through so many changes and experiencing so many things at once; they decided that it would be best to be soft and gentle with you unless you specifically requested something else.

“Go ahead, grind that pretty pussy on my hand until you cum, pretty pup,” Sirius said as his fingers slowly started rubbing circles on your clit as your hips picked up speed at his words.

A breathy moan left your lips followed by a whimper of pleasure as your eyes fluttered close at the sensation.

Remus’ hands had moved to hold your hips, aiding your movements and choosing the speed at which you moved.

James took your face in his hands, “eyes on me, darling,” he spoke to which you complied, opening your eyes to look at his face. James leaned in for a kiss, enjoying the noises you would choke on when you ran out of breath, the small whines and whimpers being enough for him to cum in his trousers, but he controlled himself – this was for you.

Sirius’ fingers picked up speed as saw the pleasurable shiver run through your body and the small twitch it was accompanied by.

Your breathing increased and the moans became less controlled as the familiar feeling of pleasure grew in the pit of your stomach. Remus picked up the speed of your hips, occasionally bucking his hips to create more friction and pressure for you, but also creating friction on his cock trapped in the restraints of his slacks. Remus’ breathing increased as well, a few grunts and small low moans could also be heard leaving his mouth.

“Gonna cum,” you moaned out as your hips lost their rhythm, stuttering slightly as the pressure in your abdomen gave away, your orgasm ripping through your body, hands gripping Remus’ shoulders to stabilize yourself as your body shook from the orgasm.

Sirius’ fingers were still working on your clit, working you through the feeling, the moans you were releasing like music to his ears.

Remus’ hips bucked once more before he shook as well, releasing a strangled and stuttering moan, his cum making a mess in his smart slacks. “Fuuuck… baby,” he breathed out as he came, his fingers gripping your hips, but not hard enough to hurt you.

Sirius’s grin was so large you were sure it would break his face. He removed his hand from your shorts, kissing your cheek before cheekily looking at Remus. James was trying to keep his smile at bay, but failed miserably, a small giggle escaping his lips.

“Damn, puppy, look what you did,” Sirius grinned.

You looked at Remus’ face, who sported a lopsided smile; you were always surprised at the effect you would have on them at times, this had happened before, but it wasn’t often.

You giggled slightly with James, “Sorry, Remmy.”

“No need to apologize… this is just what happens when an unbelievably sexy, soon-to-be milf sits on top of me,” he laughed, winking at the last statement, causing all of you to burst out laughing.

“You’re going to be the sexiest milf ever and we’ll be the sexiest dilfs, all the other parents are going to run away screaming,” Sirius joked, standing proudly to do a couple of poses, showing off his muscles, James standing as well to pose with him, another fit of laughter rolling through all of you.

You shook your head, “I love you, my most sexy, soon to be, dilfs.”

“We love you too, pretty baby.”

Tags: @dracosafety, @justadreamyhufflepuff, @teenwolfbitches28, @emma67, @trouble-in-space, @sciapod, @kermiemoon, @autumnandwinteraesthetics, @roonilwazlibswhore, @whitecastles, @sprucewoodlover, @lexi_shoto,

If crossed out it means I couldn’t tag you!

[volleychumps]

« Progressive Rivalry

Omg I love your blog 🥺 could I get a scenario or one shot with iwaizumi or Sakusa (or honestly any character you’d like!) where u run into each other at every tournament and it started out as a bitter rivalry but then they got rly worried bc u got hurt and they’re like “why do I care!?” Does that make sense? Ahaha 😅

~ just why do you keep running into the guy you hate most, especially when he equally hates your guts as well?

format: One-Shot 

genre: fluff

- includes: Iwaizumi Hajime

Warning(s): swearing, slight mention of blood, enemies to lovers trope 

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

“Oh look, my best friend’s here.” 

“Fuck off.” 

A sarcastic grin tickles your lips as you place a hand over your chest, pouting mock-affectionately as the dark haired spiker wipes at his sweaty neck with a damp towel. You adjust the gym bag on your arm as the rest of your team begins to warm up, already used to this turn of events. 

“Aw, Iwa! You always manage to warm my cold, dead heart. If you have a crush on me, just say so. Are you some kind of stalker?” 

“Hah? A stalker? You wish.”  Iwaizumi stands as the red-headed one and popular brunette behind him stifle their amused laughter into their fists. “Who would like looking at your ugly mug all day?” 

The spiker’s failed attempt to intimidate you with his height had your smile widening in challenge, the insult not hurting a bit.  In fact, you lean a little closer, fake sniffing as if he had genuinely hurt your feelings. 

“Yep. I definitely want this temperamental six year old in the body of a seventeen year old to show an ounce of interest in me. How’d you know?” 

“How can I not show interest in things that perturb me?” 

“So you are interested.” You wink. “Don’t hurt your pretty little head over using words that are too complicated for your brain.” You lean around him to shoot a sweet smile to his teammates, ignoring the flash of irritation across Iwa’s face. 

“Issei, Oikawa, Hiro!” You flash a thumbs up, your pretty smile almost blinding. “You guys were cool.” 

“Y/N-chan~ you’re such an angel!” 

“Angel my ass.” 

“Oh. You’re still here.” Your voice falls dejected as Iwaizumi gains an irk mark on his forehead. Glancing back at your team, you smile and wave at the other three. “Gotta go warm up, cheer for me!” 

“Good luck!” Matsukawa calls after you, merely grinning when Iwaizumi shoots him an irritated stare. 

“Not gonna wish the love of your life a good game?” Hanamaki questions, already beginning to walk off while smirking into his water bottle as his dark-haired friend merely scoffs. The teasing from his trio of “friends”  wasn’t anything new. 

“I don’t think that thing is capable of loving.”

“Yeah yeah, you love her, we get it.” 

Iwaizumi groaned inwardly, sitting down tiredly on the bleachers to rest up as your team littered your side of the net. His jaw clenched when you offered him a lazy wave, kneeling slightly in your position as a libero. 

There were many things Iwaizumi had could say about your character or even the irritating smile on your lips at his blatant annoyance, but he couldn’t deny how well your team mixed. Oikawa whistled lowly as Hanamaki absently mentions to Matsukawa about how the other team hardly stood a chance. 

Iwaizumi blinks, feeling a pit of annoyance in his gut as the boys in the stands whistled at every save you made, the pit deepening even further at the smile you cast in their direction. 

“You’ll get frown marks Iwa-Chan!” 

“Shut the hell-” 

“Oh shit! Y/N!” 

Iwaizumi’s head whips back in the direction of your match at the sound of Hanamaki’s exclamation just in time for the collision. 

And then his breath caught in his breath so abruptly he almost choked. 

You clutched your ankle, teeth biting so deep into your lip so hard Iwa swore he could see a bead of blood as you withheld an obvious wail of pain. Your teammate knelt by your side with a hand clamped over her mouth in shock, Iwa being able to make out from your teammates’ panic that someone had accidentally shoved you so hard to the side you swore you heard your ankle snap in an attempt to stabilize yourself. 

“Y/N-chan!” 

“Is she okay?” 

But Iwa wasn’t listening, all distaste for you seeming to drown out of his system as he wondered, 

wondered why the hell he cared so much about the girl who tried her hardest to get under his skin. Your witty retorts, your wide grin, the softness of your irises, and the pang in his chest every time you jokingly bumped your shoulder against his in passing- 

that same girl who’s cheeks were now shining with spilled tears causing him to rise to his feet. 

“Oi Iwaizumi, where are you going?” 

He didn’t spare a glance to your teammates as they silently made way for the wide-shouldered spiker, dark eyes assessing the damage as he bent down, swooping you up into his arms as if you hadn’t weighed a thing. He ignored the stares and wolf whistles from his team as he hurried out of the gym and in the direction of the infirmary towards the specialists who were trained for these events, heart tugging at the sound of your whimpers. 

“I’ve had dreams about this.” You mumble, eyes clenched shut as tears built up on your closed eyelids, arms wrapping around his neck tighter as you buried your face in his neck. “Please be hot, that’s all I’m asking for.”

“You’re still joking at a time like this?” Iwa’s voice cracks at the proximity, wondering why on earth his chest was pounding in his ears as your eyes shot open. Immediately, you begin to squirm, your face heating up as Iwaizumi continues his hurried stride, barely sparing you a glance. 

“You’re taking me?” 

“No.”

“Don’t be sarcastic with me!” 

Iwaizumi leans his head in the opposite direction, away from the volume of your voice, but he couldn’t stop the slight tilt of amusement on the right side of his lips as you seemed distracted by the obvious pain in your ankle. Mission successful. 

He ignores your protests to set you down, frowning at your claims to wanting anyone else to have taken you. Even the brunette one.

“See, now that’s just plain insulting.” Iwa’s eyes narrow at you as he finally sets you down on one of the cots, about to walk off to find the doctor before a hand weakly tugs at the bottom of his jersey. 

“....I think they’ll come soon. Can you...just stay? Just until they come?” 

Iwaizumi blinked. Then blinked again. 

Iwaizumi clears his throat, recovering from his shock before pulling up a stool and grabbing a nearby first aid kit. He tilted your chin up with his fingers, his gentle touch causing your cheeks to flare up as your eyes took on a vulnerable edge. 

“Why do you hate me so much?” It was genuine curiosity, anything to alleviate the strange heaviness in his chest when he acknowledged that fact that you despised him so.

Your eyes widen at the sudden attack, wincing a little as the cotton pad dabs at your lips, soaked in alcohol. “Why do you?” 

“I don’t hate you.”

“Oh-” 

“I just think you’re annoying as hell.” 

“Well I think that not a single thought goes on behind those pretty eyes.” 

“So you think my eyes are pretty?” 

The silence is heavy as you shake your head no quickly, causing Iwa to click his tongue and scold you to stay still as he keeps his eyes trained on your-

oh god he’s looking at your lips. 

“Yes.” You’re almost whispering, shyly avoiding his widened gaze as you lean away from him.

He stumbles over his words at your direct response, unprepared for the way in which you lean a little further back, eyes nervous and not at all the sarcastic gleam he knows as he swallows back the lump in his throat. 

“Well,” and then his hand is cupping the side of your face as he tugs you closer, confusion swirling in his head as his heart surges him forward, practically mumbling against your lips in a daze before he could stop himself. 

“I think you’re prettier.” 

He wanted to smirk at how he could practically see smoke puff out of your head. 

“Even if you hate me?” 

“I’m honestly not sure I ever did.” 

The distance is closed by you, a hand coming up to run your fingers through his dark locks as his thumb strokes your cheek, lips moving feverishly together as you attempt to pull back-

If he let you go, would you go back to hating one another? 

only for him to kiss you back even harder as if he was satiating some sort of hunger, a smile growing on your lips before a shot of pain shoots through your leg, bringing you back to reality as you whine against his lips. Iwaizumi gasps, ignoring your giggles and assuring words that you’re fine, carefully laying you down on your back while elevating your ankle. 

“Y/N.” 

“First name basis? Look at us skipping all the necessary steps.” you tug your hair out of it’s knot, attempting to redo it with a hair tie between your lips as the pain in your ankle falls to a dull throb. 

“What did....are we...?”

“Does the Iwaizumi Hajime want to know if we’re a thing or not?” Your smile has his cheeks flushing, stare becoming irritated. 

“Oi. Nevermi-” 

“Yes, idiot. Now run along and fetch my things, will you?” 

He rolls his eyes at your playful wink, ensuring your injured ankle was positioned properly before beginning to exit the infirmary-

“And Iwa?”

“What is it, doll?” 

Your chest leaps at the nickname, Iwaizumi beginning to smirk at the change in expression on your face before you clear your throat. 

“Thank you.” 

It was one of the most sincere things you had ever said to him. 

Your unexpected boyfriend kissed you on the lips a second time after a few strides, any confusion within him seeming nonexistent as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. The way you gazed up at him had his chest doing somersaults, wondering if you were both just denying the attraction you felt towards one another before fate took its turn. 

“Nah, I should be thanking you.” 

“For what?” 

“Hurting your ankle-” 

“Get out.” 

Iwa’s feeling like an idiot with the lilt to his lips when the door slides shut and something hits the door where his head would have been, the slight smile fading back to his usual scowl at the sight before him. 

His three friends had identical grins on their faces, Matsukawa holding a #1 fan balloon and Hanamaki decked out in merch from your school. He narrows his eyes at the bouquet of flowers tucked behind Oikawa’s back. All obviously from the themed store of the tournament. 

Guess he didn’t need to worry about whether or not you would enjoy his idiotic friends’ company. 

“So you're whipped. Didn’t see that one coming.” 

“Whatever.”

“Iwa, where are you going?” 

“...to go get her things.” 

“You so love her.” 

“Shut the hell up and don’t enter her room until I get back.”

It was only when the dark-haired spiker turned the corner, looking behind and in front of him before his back hits a nearby wall as he attempts to calm his heartbeat, swearing he had never felt such a wild surge of energy through his veins as his lips tingled with the taste of you. He sighs, touching the hair tie that he stole from you when he kissed you a second time from within his pocket, wondering just when his hatred melted into the exact opposite. 

He was so whipped.

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

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Hi all! How are you lovelies doing? I’m going to be on here more often, thank you for 9k and your patience with me has helped me so much! This was one of my requests that I wanted to use to slide back into the swing of things, so I hope you enjoyed! <3

[paradoxolotl]

Okay, y’all asked for the rest of that Mama Bee scene, so here you go! First part is still attached but now you get the whole thing ~

Bee was late coming home. She was always home by six, because she liked to be home to have dinner together and to be there if Andrew needed help with his homework. He never did, but he had gotten used to her quiet presence in the background, quietly reading or knitting as he did his work. She was always there, and now, it was closer to seven and she still wasn’t home. Andrew didn’t like it when things changed. He didn’t like it when Bee, who had her house and life so very carefully arranged, deviated from the norm.

Frowning at the clock, the second hand a steady marching beat, Andrew dug his fingers into his arms. Something hot and prickly was creeping through his chest, and he didn’t know what it was. Bee kept trying to get him to use the stupid emotion wheel she kept in the living room, telling him it would help in identifying what he was feeling. Andrew didn’t care what he was feeling, he just needed it to stop.

The minute hand ticked over.

Maybe there was more traffic than usual. Maybe she needed to grab something at the store. His fingers dug harder into his skin. They were weak excuses at best, and he knew it. A voice in the back of his mind, growing louder by the minute, said she was at the agency. Telling them to come get him, to take him away.

The feeling spiked.

Lashing out, he knocked a plate of the counter, watching it shatter on the tile floor. Shards skittered towards him, glinting in the sunlight coming in through the window. He stared at them, tiny pinpricks, their edges sharp enough to burrow into his skin. His bare toes curled, his weight shifting.

“Andrew?”

Startling at the voice, Andrew stepped back, a shard digging into his heel. Burying his reaction down deep, he stared at Bee. She was looking at the mess on the floor, brows pinched together. Andrew’s mind was moving too fast, his body feeling too much, and he couldn’t tell if she was angry. She must be, because he broke a plate, and the pieces were blue which meant it was one of her favourites. People usually got angry at Andrew for much less.

She looked up at him, and Andrew felt his shoulders start to creep up. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like standing here, waiting for her to tell him he had to leave. He didn’t like not knowing what she was thinking.

“Andrew-”

“You are late,” he said, cutting her off.

Bee blinked, face smoothing out. “I am, and I am sorry about that.” She looked down at the floor again, and Andrew braced himself. “I’m going to go grab a broom. Stay there? I don’t want you stepping on anything.”

Andrew didn’t care if he stepped on anything else. His heel was burning, and when he shifted, he could feel how the tile beneath his foot was glowing slick. When he didn’t react, Bee stepped back, sending him one last look before disappearing down the hall. Looking down at his feet, at the shattered remains of the plate, Andrew felt something hot trickle down his throat.

He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay here with Bee, where he had a lock on his door and Saturday grocery trips and someone to play cards with and where he felt warm and nice and safe. Rapidly, he ran through the last few months in his mind. There must have been something he did that was the last straw. Something that he could point to and know that that was when he had ruined his chance at a home.

Swallowing, he crouched down. He had always been awful to Bee. It was always his fault. He just wanted to fix this. Picking up the broken pieces, he planned how he would tell her how he would be better. He wouldn’t cause any more problems at school, he would keep the house clean, he would go see a stupid therapist, he would do anything if he could just stay.

The floorboards creaked, and Andrew tightened his grip on the pieces he had gathered, trying to sweep up the rest. His skin stung, tiny points of pain like constellations across his hands. He heard when Bee reached the kitchen doorway, her steps faltering. Looking up, he saw her looking at him with wide eyes, broom clutched tightly in her hands.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to. I’ll clean it up.”

“Andrew,” her voice was tight, and Andrew turned away, picking up another piece. “Andrew, stop.”

His hands were shaking. When he spoke, his voice was strained. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t-”

“Shh,” she soothed. Her toes came into his vision, and then she was kneeling in front of him. Her hand hovered over his own. “Honey, you’re hurting yourself.”

“I broke a plate.”

“That’s why I went to grab the broom.”

Something was buzzing in his ear. He shook his head rapidly. “It was one of your favourites.”

“It’s just a plate, Andrew. Plates break sometimes. They’re not worth hurting yourself over.”

He shook his head again. She didn’t get it. He needed to fix this. He needed to make it so he was worth keeping.

Bee moved away, and Andrew choked down his words. His hand twitched, and fire ran up his arm. Ruined. He always ruined everything. His chest was tight, and everything felt too hot and too close. Just as he felt as if he was about to snap, Bee reappeared, placing a trashcan beside them. Slowly, she took Andrew’s hands and guided them to the bin.

“Let them go, Andrew,” she said softly. “It’s okay.”

Still unable to meet her eyes, Andrew opened his hands. The pieces fell, creating a small music of their own as they landed. Both of his palms were covered in tiny cuts, dots of red slowly appearing. On his left hand, a jagged piece was stuck in his skin, a stain slowly moving across it. In his peripheral, he saw Bee sweeping the broom across the kitchen, gathering up everything he had missed. He wanted to tell her to stop, that he would do it, but his jaw was locked and the words inside him felt too much like a scream.

Tapping the dustpan into the trash, Bee settled in front of him again. There was the sound of a zipper, as she opened up the first aid kit. Her hands were always soft and warm, and she took Andrew’s gently. He watched silently as she methodically removed all of the slivers in his skin, each one joining the others with a final tiny sound. She dapped each cut with antibiotic cream, not missing a single one. She saved the jagged piece for last, inspecting his hand before finally removing it. Blood pooled immediately, and Bee quickly pressed gauze into his hand.

Closing his fingers around it, he stared down at his hands.

“Your foot is bleeding.”

Shuffling around to sit cross legged on the floor, Andrew accepted the tweezers from her. She knew he didn’t like his feet being touched. Carefully, he eased out the last piece from his body, dropping it into the trash. Cleaning away the blood that had gathered, he kept his eyes on what he was doing, until he pressed a bandage over it. When he had nothing else to keep busy with, he focused on the trash, where Bee was dumping all of the used medical supplies.

“I didn’t mean to cause you any stress,” Bee said as she packed away the kit. “I was late, and I should have called you.”

“Where were you?” Andrew risked a glance up at her face, a pit opening in his stomach at the pinched expression he found. He knew the answer before she even opened her mouth. “The agency.”

She blinked at him before nodding slowly. “Yes, I was.”

“Why.” Why wasn’t he good enough? Why didn’t she want him anymore? Rage and hurt and panic rushed through him, and he curled his hands into fists to hide their shaking.

“I got a call today from a friend of mine. To offer me a job with a colligate Exy team they’re starting. I think their goal is honourable, and I would like to be a part of it.” Andrew blinked at her. That didn’t explain why she had to go to the agency. Her face was calm when she said, “It’s in South Carolina.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. It wouldn’t have mattered then, even if he had been perfect. Bee was leaving, and he couldn’t follow. No matter what he did, he couldn’t keep her.

“Okay,” he said quietly, pulling his knees up to his chest. He didn’t know why it hurt so much. He should have been used to this by now. “When are they coming to get me?”

Bee blinked rapidly before her face fell, “Andrew, honey, no. No one is coming to get you!”

“You’re moving,” he said, panic slowly clawing its way up his body.

“I might be moving, yes. But only if that’s okay with you. I don’t want to uproot your whole life for a job if you don’t want to.”

He stared at her, trying desperately to grapple with confusion and fear and what might have been hope. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Of course it matters,” Bee said firmly.

He shook his head. If he told her that he didn’t want her to go, that he wanted her to stay with him, she would always resent him. She already said she wanted this job. He wouldn’t get in the way of that.

Something broke across her face, and then she was cupping his cheeks, cradling his face. “Andrew Joseph,” she said. “You don’t honestly think I would move without you, do you? If I take this job, you would be coming with me.”

Something in his chest snagged and tangled. “You were at the agency.”

“I needed some information,” she said, brushing his bangs off of his forehead. “I had been looking into this for a while, and with this job offer it feels a bit like things are lining up. If you don’t want it, I understand and won’t say anything else about it again. I’ll do whatever will make you happy, Andrew.”

“I don’t understand,” he said.

Bee’s hands fell into her lap, fingers clasped tight together. “I was thinking, if you would like,” she swallowed and took a deep breath before saying very carefully, “that I could adopt you. I’ve been looking into it for a while, and of course, the decision is up to you. I spoke to the agency, and it is possible to move us without adoption, if you’d prefer that, or we don’t have to move at all-”

She was rambling now, but Andrew couldn’t focus on what she was saying. He was stuck, frozen in time. A small tendril of warmth curled around him, and he held onto it tightly. “You want to keep me?”

Bee finally stopped, her shoulders falling. A smile was on her face, a little wobbly around the edges. “I really do. You’re my family, Andrew. With or without the papers. You can take time to think it over; it’s a big decision.” He could hear the hope threading through her voice, something she was trying to hold back for his sake.

“I don’t need to think about it,” he said, and she stilled, emotions crossing in her eyes too quickly for Andrew to place. Moving along the floor, he stopped beside her and wrapped his arms around her middle, his head falling on her shoulder. She smelled like lavender and sugar, and it filled him with a warmth that he had never truly felt before. Andrew blinked, but failed to keep back the tears gathering. They rolled down to fall onto the soft cotton of Bee’s shirt. He squeezed a little tighter, and her arms came up to hold him close. “Does this mean I get to call you mom now?”

Bee hiccupped a laugh, and she pressed a kiss to his hair. They stayed on the floor, holding each other close, neither willing to let go. When Bee’s fingers tucked his hair behind his ear, her own tears falling, Andrew felt a smile break across his face. For the first time in his life, Andrew had a home.

~~

Here’s a scene from after the move

And the original post, introducing the twinyards

[hauntedelation]

Repeat

Description - The Hammer proves to utilize surprising ways to settle down after a rough assignment.

Pairing - Black Male Reader x August Walker

A/N - This is my first male reader insert and AW fic! I wasn't sure how I should write the man but I found my August to be a little unpredictable, maybe hard. (Maybe he has some feelings, but he won't tell you what kind.)

Word Count - 2.4k

Warnings - descriptions of blood, wound tending and cleaning, anxiety, surprise fluff and maybe pining? Just partners being partners.

(no real proofreading this time y'all sorry 😅)

⊱ ───────────── ⊰

What he applied to your hand forced a pitiful sound from your body, something like a whimper subdued poorly by you.

By the sickly fluorescent light you can see it, the split that was the palm of your hand. Crimson upon crimson flooded the tissue, renewing again. 

Your insides overturned, and for the first time in your career you averted your eyes. You had to. For a reason you couldn't place your finger on, you knew you shouldn't stare. 

The way your pulse was working more warm liquid out of your hand, his fingers stained and slipping back and forth to tend, you felt unsteady. 

The spaces in your mind were gradually being occupied. So there was no shortage, no problem taking your mind off of it. 

You went back to that first mistake, back to where you foolishly under-packed. This assignment was far, but a swift turnaround. Accordingly, you thought it good to keep the amount of bags you carried to a minimum. 

A good number of things were left, a tool here and there that didn't stand out. You had done it before. One notch carved into the wood and you were null of any mistakes up until this point. 

What you couldn't grasp was that these absent devices were the key to this assignment. It hit like a ton of bricks the moment you were met with the complex screen of a security lock. 

You were deflated when your eyes met the empty space of what could have been the bypass key. There you spent upwards of an hour working through the perimeter of the place.

The next one could have happened regardless, but it didn't make you feel less inept. 

Where you went right when you should have gone left. The opponent you met was just as trained as you were: blank, unrelenting and practiced with a blade. You fell to a place where you were at a strident disadvantage. 

Would you have picked your jugular or your hand? There had to have been something better, a third choice? You should have been faster than that.

You could have.

Still, your hand caught the edge and it wasn't until much later, long after you were walking away that you could feel heat trickling down your fingers.

It's like the movies until it isn't. You've got yourself thrumming, high from the situation. You're locked in and can take anything to your vessel, then you're coming down slow. All the little details enter your mind, focusing and you notice. He noticed, actually.

With the most austere set of eyes you had ever seen, he did. 

Before you were given the chance to sit down he was standing over you, breath hot and charged from the brawl. On the top of your head you could feel it. The fabric of his suit was torn and twisted over his chest, rising and falling with his loosened tie.

He'd backed you to one of the steel tables, squinting through the dim and the dark. You had in mind that you were to be spit in the face, condemned for dragging the job to left-field. The glower had already been there.

You were bracing for it, balling both of your hands. The blunt object in your fingers collided with the brick floor. And it rang out, filling the empty spaces with a loud echo. Soon there was nothing. 

That's how it was seconds after.

A pair of boots brushed against yours before there was a hand capturing your right arm. He'd brought your dripping palm up and opened your curled fingers. Your wound was inspected with cautious eyes, the extent picked apart.

His calluses dragged around the edges of your sticky palm. You sucked in a breath when he had gone a little too close, but he ignored it. There was a drilling leer into your face before he spoke, "You were sloppy." 

The back of your throat had grown bone dry. You took a second, swallowing then pulling your eyes from his hardened face. 

That had been the first time that you'd been told that. Knowing in the very depths of you that this was the beginning to many months of second guessing, wishing you could have done better. 

You don't know why you had let this one go. Everything seemed feasible in the documents, from the time requirement to the objectives. You expected to have gone above and beyond.

That is close to what you told Sloane all those weeks ago,

⊱ ───────────── ⊰

"This one looks like it's going to be less of an issue."

She had her arms crossed in her crisp sleeves, her hip propped against the hardwood of her desk. You were called in to provide an updated report over your assignment, your feelings and projection.

It had gone to the point where you could no longer count on your fingers how many jobs you'd been on. The second anniversary from your first day recently passed, the bouquet still sitting on your dining room table.

You recall being introduced to your boss, the gratification in seeing someone like her in such an esteemed position.

(Someone who reminded you of your mother at times.)

Right then, the woman appeared to be getting ready to give a critical reply. Her brow was curled sharply but you could see the corners of her lips begin to upturn. 

"You have been assigned an associate with this task, agent."

This was of no particular issue. It was not every mission that you collaborated with another. Be that as it may, you've grown accustomed to this practice, it evolved into something that you improved with. This was your dream, and you intended to flourish.

You were sure there was no one you wouldn't be able to work with. 

When your superior uttered the name, 'Walker,' you had asked her to come again. 

"You're up and coming, still figuring things out in this line of work. I'm placing you with my best on this one," Sloane announced.

You withheld any signs of protest in front of her, flashing professional countenance and a nod. She dismissed you with a lingering gaze, most likely holding the same thing in her mind as you were. You kept up the front until you were situated at the chair by your desk. 

Upon your back touching the seat, a sigh was released, one that you felt in the pit of your stomach. 

You wanted to smile at how comical his name sounded. One would have thought you were speaking about an exotic dancer, The Hammer. You didn't think it fit at first. 

He's just a man, but he is the kind that exceeded the weight behind his title. He had discharged far more in his profession by the time you were approaching yours, taking the limits of what an agent could do to the stratosphere.

You could wax poetic about those stories, try to recount those details. But, truthfully there had been such a divide in your experience when compared to his. You could feel the pricks of uncertainty in your chest.

Perhaps you were only afraid.

He'd never once acknowledged your existence until you met on the tarmac the following Tuesday morning. The moon was leaving the twilight sky. Under an orange colored light, shining on the side of his face you could see him check his watch.

And then those eyes flicked over to you, sizing up your bags, your clothes. You think you may have even caught those blue slits drag along certain parts of you.

Your voice was weak, coughing low in your throat you tried to press out, "It's nice to finally meet, Mr. Walker."

(Ah, Mr Walker? You wanted to flinch, but you found no time.)

Then you provided him your name with a reluctant hand. It took far more composure on not showing the tremor in your limb but when the man peered down at you, securing your hand with a firm shake you knew. 

He'd felt how clammy your skin was. 

That mustache made a microscopic twitch, "Call me August, and, ditto."

⊱ ───────────── ⊰

You allowed your hand to remain elevated, but your period of self-loathing was eventually disturbed. 

The sensation of his large hands appeared, firm and wrapping around your waist before hoisting you on the surface of the steel table. There was a soft thud from your good hand landing to bear your shift in weight.

It was then that you froze, ears pricking to that steady footfall departing from the table.

You listen and—what?

What crosses your mind is maybe you hit your head back there, sometime during taking that grunt to the floor. Yet, you don't feel anything, no pounding in your skull. The musing is washed away the moment the flicker of a pale-green light shines above.

The room is revealed to have been an abandoned kitchen of sorts. Pots and pans layered in a thin veil of dust with more grime to compliment. With your good hand you wipe at the sweat falling down your temple, you'd become a little hot. 

Glass crumbles underneath his boots, he rotates his back around to you with a small kit that strongly resembles the one you stored in your bag. 

The white plastic had your name scrawled on there in your handwriting. While you could sit there wondering how August retrieved that, you are still processing the way the man picked you up. How he brought you up like you were made of feathers. Why he…

He comes in real close, your vision floods with a view of his chest, his gloved hands shedding away the garment and laying them on the metal surface.

The soft click of the first aid box click echoes out, and under the hum of the lights above August murmurs down to you, 

"At least you had enough sense to pack this."

His tone is the same, puncturing only not quite as breathy. The rise and fall of his chest had slowed far more, the dark curls on his chest soaking in the sweat running down his skin. And you blink, not realizing how enthralling the sight is.

Your pulsing hand is taken again, gingerly, by a pair of rough hands. You brace yourself on the edge of the table upon seeing the clear liquid bottle.

He's cleaning your wound throughly and you're trying not to take it like a kicked puppy. Through grit teeth, "You think I could skip stitches this time?" They never were your favorite.

"No dice," he breaths out, placing the bottle of alcohol down next to your thigh.

"You about had your hand sliced in half, Agent. You're lucky anyway. But,"

The needle and thread is pulled out, more cleansing and draining. Rinse and repeat. Walker was moving quickly, probably sensing the adrenaline in you draining by the minute.

Your communication devices buzz in unison, you don't have time to check your screen for any updates before he reaches with one hand in his pocket to retrieve his.

He sets your hand down on your own thigh and you listen to his voice shift to a formal tone. The female voice on the other line, (Sloane most likely) sounds curt and questioning. 

Your stomach begins to roll in circles. Your fingers wrapped around the table's edge tighten around the metal, almost enough to leave marks.

Through those training sessions all those months, you learned to properly squash any threats of anxiety, distraction. You could feel yourself slipping, your body seizing up in front of the man. Walker seemed to have been approaching the height of his conversation with your boss, shifting so the phone rests between his ear and shoulder. 

In the meantime, you were breathing. That familiar rhythm, flowing in and out, counting. You fall into the headspace that you became acquainted with all too well. 

You lost yourself in it, not realizing that Walker was dissolving Sloane's interrogation. Every syllable. The way in which his voice formed the words was unknowingly steadying your brain, calming your heart rate down slowly. 

All the while taking your wounded hand was taken in his, he set about cleaning it one more time before starting to close it with the thread. 

"Yes ma'am. No, he had everything in his detail under control...Yes. That's correct. The only slip up had been breaching the security wall but we successfully infiltrated."

You could feel the sharp pricks in your skin, your arm tensing after each pull to the string when closing the wound. Eventually Walker drifted, and your eyes landed on the semi-clean criss cross stitching in the palm of your hand. 

The man's eyes were dead set on his handiwork, narrowing on the lines before clearing his throat to part ways with your boss. There was a, "We will report back upon leaving this location."

He hung up the phone, and slid the device next to your thigh. You didn't think anything of it, only Walker's hand didn't leave where his phone was sitting. And you were encircled, the fabric of his shirt practically enticing his body closer to yours.

It had been a number of seconds before you could bring yourself back. The same exercise was reaching its tail end, and maybe, just maybe you could believe Sloane would not chew you a new one when you return.

Those words, It's okay, you tried your best. Everyone has bad days. You said them once again, inaudible and only in your mind. The room at this point only held the echo of the cars outside, Walker's heavy boots shifting before—

His fingertips were cold against your jaw, you almost jumped away from him. You should have, what was he doing? His thigh brushed so light against your knee, and when he guided your eyes up, you saw him already peering at your damp face.

Everything about the man's face was blank. Thick brows, lips hidden under a bushy trail of hair, all set in a firm line. You made no attempt to divert, you weren't sure he would let you. You had been planted there, decided by him your next move would be included.

Then those words fell silent. 

His fingertips pushed up your jaw, against the grain of your facial hair growing there. Then you felt him cup your cheek, strong hands dragging along your skin. 

Walker used his thumb to brush against your temple, wiping away something sticky. Red tint coated the little grooves in his skin and he pulled away, wiping his digit on the material of your pants. His tone was far more entertained then,

"Looks like you hit your head back there."

⊱ ───────────── ⊰

Taglist - @mansaaay @hope-to-hell @feralrunaway @thetaoofzoe @luclittlepond @madbaddic7ed @brandycranby @emyearns

⊱ ───────────── ⊰

[morganas-pendragons]

Long Story Short (I Survived) | Din Djarin

Okay, I apparently write for Din now. This is set after It’s A Long Way Down and will feature the same Grey!Jedi reader, I am done with finals and am intending to write a fic between this one and the first one for Chapter 13! 

i forgot that din took his helmet off in the first fic i wrote for him, so we’re going to call this - another separate instance in which reader could have seen helmet less din  - and change one saber to two 

if you’d like to be added to tags for when I write for din, please let me know! until then... 

@earthtokace / @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol​ / @kyber-queen / @kaikai1324 / @snippy-tano / @fractiouskat​ / @doctorsteeb​

SPOILERS FOR THE BELIEVER 

Din is staring down at the Imperial console when he feels it creep up upon him. It’s a niggling fear, one that sinks deep down into the pit of his stomach and very nearly disappears - which gives him hope that it’ll just dissipate and die - until realization smacks him right back into reality. 

  “You’ll have to take your helmet off.” 

He’d felt this same emotion when IG-11 had coerced him into taking his helmet off when he’d been injured. It had felt the same, affected him the same, paralyzed him the same. 

Panic. It’s panic. 

The last time he’d done this had been out of necessity, out of fear, and that had been the only reason he’d survived. He’d broken The Creed to save his own life and of those who had been with him when the Moff attacked. Now, staring at this console, the life of his son is at stake if he doesn’t take this helmet off. 

Din whispers into the corners of his frightened mind. I’m scared. 

You had accompanied Mayfeld and Din as the third party (since Boba and Fennec had Cara) and had displayed skill in aiding him with the bands of pirates who had attacked their transport of Rhydonium. His mind was still spinning with the sheer speed in which you had spun those lightsabers. He didn’t think a person could move that fast. 

Around the corner and turned away from Din, you allow yourself to feel the whispers of The Force encircling your mind - the newly acquired bond you’d somehow formed with Din since having seen Ahsoka - and whispered in reply I know. A beat of silence passes before you continue. Remember who you’re doing this for. 

In the moment that Din’s fear threatens to overtake him, you send waves of comfort and assurance through your Bond in the Force - which shouldn’t exist to begin with, it’s not that easy to create bonds with a non-force sensitive -  to coax him into doing what needs to be done. Your eyes are turned. Your focus is on Mayfeld and the dozens of Imperial Officers who surround you. 

As he removes his helmet, Din remembers. He remembers your boundless laughter playing with The Child. He remembers the way his son beams at you, the way he falls asleep on specific words of lullabies because that’s always the precise moment your voice goes just soft enough that he feels as if he needs no more comfort. Din remembers the way you’d watched on in silence, quietly mourning a relationship that had yet to reach its peak, and how breathless you’d appeared - and overjoyed, he still hasn’t recovered from the sudden hug you gave him upon return to the Razor Crest - when he’d brought Grogu back inside after Ahsoka claimed he could not be trained. 

Remember who you’re doing this for.

Maker help anyone who dared to cross him when his child, his son - the one attachment he has not verbally acknowledged yet, but everyone else has, including you - is the one in danger. When you are the one in danger.

Maker help them.

You are not anticipating what comes next. 

This was supposed to be easy. Get in, get the coordinates for the cruiser, and get out. Mayfeld had mentioned to you after Din had entered the mess hall that he’d need to take his helmet off in order to access the terminal, and on instinct you had turned away from the mess to survey the crowd around you. 

Your lightsabers - now meshed together into the staff slung across your back - lay comfortably and within reach as dozens of Imperial troops brush past you and congratulate both you and Mayfeld on being the only transport to bring back the Rhydonium. 

  “Trooper? Hey, trooper!” 

Mayfeld’s hand shoots out before you can protest, and your head is whipping back just enough to ensure that Din hasn’t been found out. “No.” Mayfeld murmurs, shaking his head. “Not yet.” 

You’re not focused on him. You’re focused on the dark hair that frames the very visible head of the same man you’d resigned yourself to falling in love with. 

His helmet is off. 

Dread curls itself in your veins as you and the former Imperial turn to the mess hall. You’ve managed to respect Din’s wishes in refraining from both seeing his face - and using his name, you’re only allowed to do that in private - since you met, but circumstances have ruined the reverential act he would’ve saved for marriage. That was when he’d had removed his helmet to allow you to see him. 

The thing is though.. You’ve always seen him. You don’t need to see his face to know Din Djarin’s heart, and his heart lays with you and that baby. The one he’s fighting to get back. 

  “No, son. What’s your TK number?” 

Lucky for you, you’d been alive during The Clone Wars. You can worm yourself and him out of this situation fairly easily. 

  “This is our Commanding Officer TK-593, and First Officer TK-616, sir.” Mayfeld slaps your back as the two of you enter the mess hall and flank either side of Din. You cannot bring yourself to look at him head on. It would not be fair, not in the midst of the pure fear that’s coursing through his mind. 

I’m right here. You whisper into the heart of the fear that plagues him, fingers idly tracing the inside of his hand as you stare the Imperial Officer down. As expected, Din visibly relaxes at the gentle trace of your fingertips against his palm. We’re surviving. 

  “I am Imperial Combat Assault Transport TK-111, sir.” Mayfeld continues, folding his hands over each other as he stands at relaxed parade rest at Din’s side. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to speak up to him a little bit since his vessel lost pressure in Taanab.” 

This gives you the brilliant idea of conversing with Din in Tusken sign, something he’d been adamant to teach you after your excursion on Tatooine. 

  “She’s our interpreter. We call her Whip.’’

While Mayfeld guides the conversation with the officer, you and Din are easing into talking in Tusken about however many ways this can go wrong, but then he changes the topic to something you’re not quite ready to acknowledge. 

You can look at me, you know. He signs, hands frantic as he tries and fails to find your eyes. You value him - and his heart - far too much to be the first person he knows to have seen his face.

No. You shake your head. I can’t. 

And you don’t. You only look at his side profile for the remainder of that trip, refusing to allow yourself the satisfaction of being the one person he cared about that has seen his face. Seen him. 

Like I said. You don’t need to see Din Djarin’s face to see him. 

*** 

Din is almost positive he’s ready to accept how he feels about you. 

The minute Mayfeld shoots that officer in the chest, you spring into action and whip that staff off your back - disengaging the lock that holds the two lightsabers together - and the world explodes in a flurry of blue as you perform the sword and shield method he’s seen you do flawlessly at least five times now. 

You don’t look at him even after you’re back in Slave One. He and Cara have escorted Mayfeld back to the surface of the planet, and it’s just you and Fett in the cockpit. Despite the clone and bounty hunter being so much older then you, there’s something oddly comforting knowing you’re sitting next to has suffered as much as you have. If not more. 

Long story short, we both survived. 

  “You know, I’ve been with you a grand total of a day and I can already see it in your eyes, Whip.” The nickname Mayfeld had come up with in the facility has already made its rounds on the ship, and Boba feels it’s more then appropriate for the first Jedi he’s met since the kids who put him in the Sarlacc to begin with. Being inside of that thing had mellowed him out. He had accepted his life for what it was now. Oddly enough.. Boba Fett is at peace. “You’re lovesick for the Mandalorian.” 

  “Boba-” 

The older man, one who mirrored what you’d always envisioned the clones - may Maker rest their souls - to look like as they aged, removed his helmet to look at you. “Take it from someone who knows. He gets you. You get him.” Boba turned his gaze back towards the ramp of Slave One where Din was talking in low voices with Cara. “Wish I’d had a jeti like you who saw me despite the armor.” 

He stopped speaking after that.  

Taking a deep breath, you descend from the cockpit just as Slave One takes off again, the coordinates for Moff Gideon’s cruiser inputted into the navi-computer. Fennec and Cara move by you to join Boba in the cockpit which leaves you and Din alone in the cargo bay. 

It’s deadly silent. 

Ner jeti. He whispers. You can hear his thoughts as clear as you hear your own. Why will you not look at me? 

Your eyes slam shut as his fingers curl around your hips. You cannot do this to him, no matter how much you want to - no matter how much you desire to finally kiss those lips you’ve dreamt idly about so many times - because here’s the truth of it: You have suffered, parts of you have died, everything you have ever known has died, you have lost everything and didn’t even try to save those on the other end of those attachments you’d formed... but something, something good, put you right here. Right here in this moment with Din Djarin mere moments before plunging into the subject of your night terrors after months of being tormented by nightmares of your fellow Jedi being tortured by the Empire for simply existing. 

And quite frankly, there’s no one else you’d rather take that plunge with. 

That fact terrifies you. 

  “I can’t look at you, Din.” You whisper. “I can’t look at you because then that would be breaking your Creed for me... and I can’t let you do that when the baby hasn’t even seen your face yet-” 

  “Oh, believe me.” A clunk echoes in the cargo-bay as the beskar falls from his hands. Your heart stops and your breath catches in your throat as you tremble beneath his grasps, eyes still closed as he steps into the curve of your body - chest to your back - and lowers his entire head to your shoulder. “I intend for him to.” 

Din lays a kiss at the nape of your neck. Maker... he’s real. Your head starts spinning as his kiss ascends right to the shell of your ear, in which he then whispers, “Open your eyes, Sarad.” and it’s such an intimate act on the behalf of someone who has not known love until you and the baby showed up that you can’t not open your eyes. 

When you turn around, your world is enveloped in a mirage of onyx. Brown eyes. 

  “Din-” Din chuckles at your obvious reluctance because he is absolutely terrified to let you see him, the real him, vulnerable and waiting and desperate for the same acceptance. 

  “I told you my name way earlier then I ever anticipated I would.” He begins, taking your hands in his own to lay them against his cheeks. It has been so long since he allowed himself to accept touch, to accept that people in the galaxy were still gentle, that he trembles when your warmth seeps into his skin. “After what Bo-Katan told me and what Mayfeld kept saying in the transport... I’ve done alot of thinking recently, and I’m coming to the conclusion that maybe the way I was raised was wrong. There’s nothing wrong with taking the helmet off.” He exhales on a shaky breath and turns his face to kiss the inside of your hand. “But then again.. I’ve always wanted to around you.” 

Your voice is small as you ask, “Why?” 

  “Because you’ve always seen me.” Din replies. “Despite the armor and the helmet, you’ve always seen me for who I was. You saw me as a father for the-” He swallows the knot in his throat and leans inward until you are a hairs breath apart, forehead resting against yours as he pulls your body into his own. “As a father for our child. Not just as a bounty hunter, but as a man. A man I could never see myself as. When you came around, I stopped surviving. I started living.” He snorted sharply through his nose. “I almost forgot what that felt like.. I think you pulled me back right before I forgot entirely.” 

He’s so grateful. It’s hard to live feeling like you’re a ghost. 

Din tests the waters of this desire radiating from you both by applying just the barest amount of pressure of his mouth on yours. As to be expected, your entire body quakes at the contact and it takes all his physical control to not allow his spinning head to make his knees give out and send him falling on the floor. 

Oh.. he could get used to this. Used to this feeling.

He’s felt this before.

Joy. 

  “That’s the thing.” Inward, outward, forward and back again, you slowly allow yourself to succumb to Din’s kiss and grip his face in your hands just a little bit tighter. “I’ve always seen you.” You pull away just enough to force your eyes open, and then you are graced with the face of the man you love. You do. You love him, and you’ve accepted it. Kriffing Boba Fett. “And you know what? I thought I’d died before I met you. I never thought I’d make it here, much less be with you.. and I am so lucky.” There it is then, that breathless smile Din has pressed the sight of twice now into his memories, that presses itself into your aspect as the two of you look at each other. 

  “Why are you lucky?” 

You wink and shrug. ‘’Long story short?” You muse. “It’s a good thing I survived.”

Little to Din’s knowledge as he plunges into the mystery of his growing love for you - his flower, the one who made him bloom - that when he kisses you again, your eyes are wide open the entire time. 

There’s never been quite so beautiful a sight as somebody who’s survived. 

bonus: i am thinking about how beautiful pedro pascal was in this episode 

[cosmicgoddesswrites]

The Nanny - Chapter 2

Single Dad!Kuroo x Nanny!Reader

Summary: Kuroo Tetsuro is about at his wits end; there's only so much a man can take with work piling up, his divorce getting messier by the minute, and his 6-year-old daughter raising hell at home. Hiring a nanny sounds like a band-aid solution, but who knows, maybe this will work out?

Word Count: 1738

Warnings: Female!Reader, Some cursing, mentions of v!olence, implied panic attack

Prev. Masterlist. Next.

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Pulling up to the house the next morning was just as nerve-racking, if not more so, than it was the day before. (Y/n) was excited to meet Emiko, but couldn’t help the anxiety bubbling in the pit of her stomach.

What if Emiko didn’t like her? Kuroo said if she did well then she would get to stay on as her nanny. Did that mean if she did a shit job that he would fire her?

(Y/n) pushed her worries to the back of her mind as she approached the front door, gripping the spare key Kuroo had given her so hard she thought it might bend. With a deep breath she unlocked the front door and made her way inside.

Her footsteps practically echoed in the spacious house. One would think she was there completely alone. 

Making her way to the kitchen, (Y/n) set down her messenger bag in one of the island chairs. Should she start cooking? Should she wait for Kuroo to greet her? Would he even greet her? Did she have to wait until she knew Emiko was up?

Her inner monologue was interrupted by a loud crash followed by a shrill scream that could have easily been mistaken for an emergency siren.

Instinct had (Y/n) rushing to the source of the noise and almost bumping into a frantic and half naked, very wet Kuroo.

“O-oh my god-”

“Oh, hi. Uh, I was showering, should we-?” Kuroo interrupted (Y/n), pointing to the door they were both standing in front of. (Y/n) prayed he didn’t notice her staring.

“Yes, yes we should-” she mumbled, moving to let him open the door.

Kuroo swung open the door, rushing to his daughter’s bedside and checking her for injuries. The father sighed in relief when he found none, only for his smile of relief to drop when he saw a very expensive looking night-light had been thrown on the floor.

“You scared me half to death,” he huffed, picking up the night-light, “did you throw this? You know daddy paid a lot for that.”

The little girl’s attention had shifted from her dad to the stranger in the room, her intense, amber eyes almost sizing the woman up. “Who’s that?”

Kuroo frowned at the lack of response from his daughter. “That’s (Y/n), she’s going to be your nanny, okay?” he explained, inspecting the light for any damage.

(Y/n) smiled and opened her mouth to speak only for the 6-year-old to cut her off.

“I don’t like her.”

Ouch.

Kuroo choked on his saliva and quickly turned to face his daughter, “Emiko that isn’t nice, you just met her. Can you give her a chance?”

Emiko stayed dead silent, continuing to stare (Y/n) down.

(Y/n) tried her best to play off the insanely awkward encounter, kneeling down to meet Emiko’s eye-line. “That’s okay, buuut do you like pancakes?”

The girl’s eyes lit up for a moment, she was obviously trying to mask any reaction to the mention of food, but her stomach betrayed her as it rumbled loudly.

“Well I like pancakes too, I make them nice and thick and fluffy with lots of syrup. How about I go make you and your dad some right now?” (Y/n) offered Emiko a bright smile as the little girl glanced over at her father.

“I know that sounds good to me!” Kuroo said, “How about we get dressed for the day while (Y/n) starts cooking?”

Kuroo didn’t even wait for a reply, he just stood straight and began getting Emiko’s clothes ready for the day. (Y/n) gave Emiko one last smile before heading for the kitchen.

(Y/n) could hear arguing coming from Emiko’s room as she cooked breakfast. It was clear the little girl would pull no punches on (Y/n)’s first day, making this a difficult start to what would hopefully be her new, permanent job.

Kuroo eventually entered the kitchen, frustration evident in his features as he carried Emiko to the small dining table. The little girl kicked and struggled in his hold, whining and grunting as she tried getting away. Her school uniform and hair was a mess, it couldn’t have been genes making her jet-black hair stick up like that.

(Y/n) served Emiko her breakfast as soon as the young girl was in her chair, ensuring she wouldn’t try running off to get her father to chase her. Those adorable amber eyes identical to Kuroo’s lit up as she began digging into her breakfast, not even bothering to wait for her dad to sit beside her.

The older man adjusted his tie before sitting at the table and beginning to eat breakfast as well; he seemed very pleased with the comfortable silence that enveloped the three of them.

(Y/n) turned her back to them to start washing dishes. And that’s when things took a turn.

“Can we stop at McDonald��s on the way home from school, daddy?” Emiko asked, her mind already on her next meal despite the near-empty plate of pancakes in front of her.

“You’ll have to ask (Y/n), sweetheart. From now on she’s going to be the one taking you to school and bringing you home.”

Emiko didn’t like her father’s reply. Not one bit.

She practically threw her fork down on the table, a fire in her eyes (Y/n) was all too familiar with. “I don’t want her to take me! I want you to take me!” she shouted, mouth still full of half-chewed pancakes. 

“Emiko, the earlier daddy gets to work the earlier he can come home to you.” Kuroo reasoned, only to be met with a glare from his daughter.

“You always say that then pick me up late from school anyway!” she snapped, “I don’t want her!”

Kuroo gave Emiko a stern look. “Emiko. I’m the parent and you’re the child. I’m saying (y/n) is taking you to school. She’s taking you to school.”

(Y/n) internally cringed at that. Maybe she externally cringed too. She could have a talk with him about that communication later.

Emiko kicked her legs under the table, causing it to thump as Kuroo hardened his gaze. “Well if you’re done eating you can go ahead and get to school.” Kuroo stood up and scooped Emiko out of her chair despite her protests, ignoring her as she screamed her head off and thrashed in his arms.

In the midst of her thrashing, her closed fist collided roughly with Kuroo’s nose. In shock, he set Emiko down and cupped his nose in pain, the pain causing his eyes to water. Emiko looked shocked for a moment before continuing her tantrum.

Kuroo wordlessly picked Emiko back up, grabbed her schoolbag, and carried her to (Y/n)’s car. (Y/n) followed behind silently, unlocking the car so he could get Emiko in the back seat. Once she was strapped in, (Y/n) turned Kuroo to face her and cupped his cheek.

“Let me see that, do you need ice?” She asked before he quickly pulled away.

“I’ll be okay… Drive carefully.”

(Y/n) bit her lip before getting into the driver’s seat, wincing at the volume of Emiko’s screams. Despite how upset he was, Kuroo blew a kiss to the crying child in the car before turning to go back in the house.

Emiko sobbed and screeched and wailed the whole way to school, somehow not tiring herself out at all no matter how hard she thrashed in her seat. (Y/n) was almost grateful to pull up to the school parking lot and get the screaming child out of her car.

She opened the backseat of the car, noticing how Emiko flinched away as she was now practically hyperventilating through her tears.

(Y/n) immediately set beside her and cupped her cheeks so Emiko would look at her. “Hey, hey- it’s okay. Just look at me and breathe, okay, pretty girl? It’s okay, breathe.” (Y/n) cooed, gingerly wiping Emiko’s tears.

Emiko continued breathing hard, her tiny chest heaving with each breath she took. “D-Dont yell at meee!” She wailed, “Pleaaase don’t yell at me! Don’t be maaad!”

“Sweetie I’m not mad at you, I’m not going to yell at you,” (Y/n) assured her, brushing strands of messy hair off her tear-stained cheeks. “I’m never ever going to yell at you, okay? Please just be a good girl and breathe with me, okay?”

Emiko nodded quickly, staring up at (Y/n) as she mirrored her breathing. A couple moments later, Emiko was breathing normally, blinking back tears and shaking in her seat.

“Good girl,” (Y/n) gave her a gentle smile as she praised her, continuing to stroke her head. “Can you tell me why you’re upset?”

The little girl sniffled, her bottom lip quivering, “I hit my daddy…” she whimpered.

(Y/n) frowned as she began to try combing down Emiko’s messy hair with her fingers. “You didn’t like hitting your daddy, huh?”

Emiko responded only by shaking her head. “He hates me…”

“That’s not true.” (Y/n) quickly corrected her, tilting her head. “Your daddy loves you soooo much. And I bet more than anything he just wants a great big hug from you to make it okay. How about when he gets home, you apologize and kiss and hug him better?”

Emiko nodded sadly, nervously picking at her fingers.

“We have to get you into school now, okay? I want you to think about what you want for dinner and I’ll take you grocery shopping with me after I pick you up, okay?” (Y/n) smiled down at her. “Anything you want I’ll make, then you and daddy can sit down at dinner and share it.”

(Y/n) felt relief wash over her as Emiko nodded and unbuckled her own seatbelt, moving to get out of the car. “Do you know how to make spaghetti?” She asked quietly.

(Y/n) giggled and helped her out of the car, walking her to the front doors. “That’s my faaavorite thing to cook! I’ll make a list for the grocery store, sound good?”

Emiko nodded, already looking like she had perked up. The two said their goodbyes and (Y/n) left her teacher her phone number before going back to the house. Hopefully Kuroo would be gone and the two could avoid an awkward encounter.

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Taglist:

@kellyyween @whore-for-anime @lilith412426 @yourstarvic @prinkipissa-aa @syynnaaah  @boosyboo9206  @lowkey-falling-apart  @chwlogy  @chichibia  @chirity-chu @faithfulferns @fi-chanwrites

[harveywritings92]

BNHA Dad scenario: You get your quirk! 2

Izuku: [You inherited your grandmother's quirk, you can telepathically pull objects towards you, but your is a tad bit stronger then hers.]

He was worried when you didn't show any signs of having a Quirk, and was mentally panicking that you'll wind up singled out like he was growing up! Of course today that was all going to change Izuku was taking a nap, when he heard something topple over, his green eyes opened as he looked over and saw you weren't sitting in front of the TV watching cartoons, he sat up now fully awake. "Y/n?" called out looking around the living room for his four year old.

then heard something fall in the kitchen. "Y/N!" Izuku jumped from the couch and ran into the kitchen to find you sitting on floor, mouth and hands covered chocolate with snack cake & cookie wrappers surrounding you; whimpering and holding your stomach, obviously not feeling well... Izuku was about to scold you for sneaking into the snack cupboard! But paused when he realized the snack cupboard was on top of the fridge... Way too high for you to reach. "Y/n, how did you get those cupcakes?"

You looked at him like a deer in the headlights... before turning green in the face and throwing up all the snacks you had stolen, causing your broccoli haired dad to briefly forget about what he was inquiring, pick you up and rush you to the bathroom! 

He made sure you were on empty and got you in the bath and than cleaned the kitchen, he then went checked on you... just in time to see you telepathically pulled a bottle of bubble-bath off the shelf towards the tub, ready to pour it all out! only for him to grab it at the last second. "Nice try..." He huffed giving you a stern look, yes he's happy you weren't Quirkless, but that didn't mean you were off the hook for raiding the snack cupboard!

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Shoto: [Your mom's Quirk is called Cyclone breath, she can breath in air and blow out powerful winds, His ice half combined with her wind quirk, Creating yours: Frost-breath, which is pretty powerful on it's own, the only downside is that just like your mom if you over use it, you get asthma like symptoms, so you gotta carry around an inhaler.]

Your family had sat down to dinner, you were having mac and cheese, but it was little to hot so naturally you did the logical thing and blew on it! both your parents flinched at the sudden drop in temperature they looked at each other, then at you to see you gawking down at your now frozen dinner shock, giving them both this help me look.

It took a lot of training with your mom to figure out how breathe with without turning everything in front of you into a skating rink! It sucks you got to carry around an inhaler around now, but ever since your quirk manifested it been harder to breathe without it, That Your older cousin [Dabi kid.] and her creepy friend {Shigaraki kid} seemed love using you as their personal Air conditioner and popsicle maker in the summer despite your uncle Dabi telling them to stop!

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Warning here: Hawks scenario is fricking long! Cos my lazy but decided to combined two ideas into one, it might as well be it's own one shot!

________

Hawks: [Technically You inherited your mom's quirk Cheshire, it's a teleportation quirk it kinda works like.... um, If anyone played God of War 4, It's like how the dwarves can slip between realms, like people can see it, but their minds can't properly comprehend it, so it just look like your walking behind a tree, only to be seen coming out from behind a flagpole a few feet opposite the way you were just walking, however you also have little red wings on top of your head.

that are pretty much useless, but they're the only thing (aside from his eyebrows) that you got from your dad, Which Hawks finds adorable especially when they flap up and down when your happy or puff up when your angry.]

You ran away from home some bullies at school and your mean babysitter had convinced you that you weren't Hawk's real daughter and your Quirk seem to solidify that theory, so while your sixth babysitter? (You lost count) was distracted, you packed up some clothes and a sandwich and left, the whole time watching this delusional woman, (She thinks she's dating Hawks) rummage and steal from your mom's memory box, not even concerned that you've been quiet this entire time.

That was fine you'll be long gone by the time she notices... you thought as you put your hat on to cover the tiny wings on your head, ignoring the itchy feeling you got from your fuzzy down feathers brushing against their nylon prison, You looked at your room one last time as you remember all the fun times had here before slipping away into oblivion... and stepping out of the haze from behind a light-post across the road from your apartment building, and started walking you didn't know where, but anywhere was better then here, maybe if your lucky you'll find your real parents... You paused and glanced back at the apartments one last time then kept walking... sniffling all the while.

Meanwhile...

Hawk took a break off patrol he had weird feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was wrong, as soon as he step through the balcony door his heart dropped, he couldn't sense you anywhere in the nest! his instincts were on fire! as his feathers surveyed the penthouse for you, then stilled when they sensed someone moving around in his room. Keigo's eyes narrowed as he silently walked to his room to find your babysitter going through his late wife's belongings wearing her jewelry…

"What do you think you're doing?!" he said through gritted teeth causing your baby to jump and whip her head around to see Hawks glowering at her rage in his eyes. "Honey...I mean Hawks! y-your home early...um um." she stammered something whizzed by her embedding itself in the wall behind her, she hastily started taking off the earrings and necklace and his wife's engagement ring, telling him it's not what it looks like! 

He noticed her phone on the floor before she could stop him, his feather's snatched it he saw all the dating crap she'd lying and posting about, but really set him off was text she had sent talking about you... calling you an orphan and plans to send you away once Her Darling "opens his eyes" Keigo's rage reached it's boiling point, people can say whatever they want about him, But don't ever involve his little girl... it won't end well. Your babysitter watched in horror as Hawks destroyed her phone, then took a step back turned his death gaze on her.

"Get out, you're fired."

"But but… Hawks baby I lo-"

"Did I fucking stutter? I said get out!"

"*runs out of the penthouse crying*"

He knows that delusional woman was in the hall outside of his penthouse waiting for him come after her, she's not the first woman he hired who thought they're were the heroine to whatever fantasy they've concocted in their head, She'll find out pretty quickly that Hawks didn't give two craps about her as the apartment's security had been called to escort her out, what he cared about at the moment was; where. in. the. fuck. was. his. daughter? After the rage had subsided panic had soon set in as Hawks barged into your room the drawers were opened , your backpack and sleeping bag and [fav plush] were missing! Your dad started hyperventilating.

That woman... Had she done somethin to you?! He was going to call security and put her in holding ….Then Keigo felt it, that chill in his wings the familiar feeling of being physically pulled out of reality... he followed the feeling and he looked in your closet and found one of his feathers stuck...no, fused the wall, *You have her Quirk, Why didn't you tell me...* he thought then remembered what your mom had told him told him to do when his feather gets stuck in something... "Just clear your mind and think of me, your feather will find me …" Taking a deep breath Hawks closed his eyes thought about you, seeing you...finding you... like that the feather was free.

Meanwhile.

It had started to rain as you walked down through a park not sure how far you walked, but your feet and knees were hurting from the fall you had earlier, you saw some kids from your school got scared and ran you ended up tripping and rolling down a hill, scratching up your legs and covering your clothes in mud and grass stains...

While you were looking down at the ground moping a pair of shoes walked into your field of vision as a shadow sudden casted over you, your [y/ec] eyes looked up and saw a man wearing a dark hoodie that covered most of his face, his cerulean eyes regarded with mild concern. "You okay there kid?" he asked eyeing your legs and puffy eyes, That broke the dam all the stress and torment you endured the passed couple months all came out in loud wail..

The guy standing over you to panicked and tried shushing you, before picking you up and carrying you off, luckily bystanders mistook it for a parent dealing with their child's tantrum, and that's how you found yourself sitting on a bench under a bus shelter. while the man who introduced himself as Dabi put band-aids on your legs...which was strange, cos someone who looked like Dabi didn't look the type to carry glow-in the dark neon-rainbow band-aids! "They ain't mine...I got a kid about your age back home." the stapled faced man stated as if reading your mind, he sighed taking a seat next to you and examined your miserable expression, you looked very familiar but he couldn't quite place it... Something about those eye brows...  he shook his head.

"Speaking of home, you gotta a number on ya? I bet yer parents are probably looking for yo-" You cut him off. "I don't have parents and no ones looking for me!" You huffed stubbornly Dabi cocked a brow very skeptical at that claim, and was about voice that thought when something red caught his attention... His cerulean eyes squinted at the pole the bus schedule was nailed to and was surprised to see a familiar red feather just kind of shot itself out from behind it...

He watched it kind of sway around before pointing directly at you. "You're sure no one's looking for you?" he said watching feather bristle then harden when he spoke up, his eye twitched knowing that was a mistake, if that was here then that meant... *Ew, someone actually reproduced with that Kentucky Fried Dumbass?!* Dabi snorted.

"I know he's not looking for me, he wasn't my daddy he just felt sorry for me...Just like everyone else."

"Well everyone else is an idiot... and your old man obviously cares for ya!"

"No he doesn't... he didn't even go to my school on parents day..."

"look, kid I don't know what's going on with you and Chicken-Tenders, but he obliviously loves you."

"How would you know?" You wept keeping your puffy eyes on the ground and tears fell from you eyes, Dabi's voice had nervous edge as he spoke up again. "Because he's here..." You looked up at the scarred man in disbelief, only to see him starring dead ahead with a serious expression on his face, the little wings on your head twitched under your hat as you followed his gaze just in time to see your dad land, But something was off...

His wings were darker than usual and his eyes were feral and scary looking, like he was going murder someone... "Dabi.." he growled fist clenched as he slowly walked towards the two of you, when said cremator slowly stood up causing your dad's feather's to go haywire. "Easy Hawks... You know I'm not in that business anymore." Dabi said calmly holding his hands up, this only made Hawks more agitated a low growl escaped his throat.

"Leave..." the blond hissed obviously giving Dabi one chance, the scarred just put his hands in his hoodie pockets and walked, but as he was passing your dad. "Might want to set that kid's head straight, cos you're on the verge of losing her for forever." Hawks shot him a glare as he went over to you who was curled up on the bench looking at your dad scared.

Dabi watched from a good distance as his old enemy resolved things with his daughter there was a lot of yelling at mainly him screaming "Why did you run, what were you thinking Y/n?! I already lost your mom I don't want to lose you too! …"  a bus drove pass blocking out whatever else he was saying, as the bus passed Hawk now crouched at your level, he's guessing you were telling him what's going on... 

Hawks looked devastated with every word you were saying. He said something to you before taking you hat off, giving Dabi a view of the little red wings on your head he looked at Hawks managing to read his lips "You may not have my power, but those are definitely my wings!" the two of you hugged before Hawks picked you up and flew away.

Dabi waited a few seconds before taking out his phone looking through his contact and picking [My Fairy] and waited a few moments. "Hey babe... how goes the homestead?" his wife told how things were going at the dive and him it was al none of the rowdy guys bothered her. "Good to hear... is the kid still up?" Dabi waited a few second hearing his wife call his daughter over. "Hey, Firefly, how you doing?" he smiled as his daughter told him how her day went. "That's good, I'll be home tomorrow, give yer mom a kiss for me alright?...I love you too, Firefly" He hummed and hung up started walking down the street.

Back to Hawks

You both took a few days off to cool down they went out of the city for a while and visited your mom's grave, Hawks hardly let you out of his sight if he wasn't in the room one of his feathers was always there. He let you sleep in his bed for the first couple nights, when it was time to go back to school.

You sighed expecting another babysitter or sidekick to take you, instead you were surprised to find you dad waiting for you, which was bewildering he's usually gone or sleeping when you leave. "Why are you here?" you asked bemused you dad smiled and patted your head. "I'm taking you school obviously." He said taking you over the balcony and picking you up.

"Hang on tight Chickadee." he said before lift off the wind felt nice blowing through your down feathers the little wings on your head started subconsciously started flapping, which caused your dad chuckle at cute display, when he finally made to your school all the kids were in awe to see the #2 pro-hero landing in there playground, but what really got the kids was the fact that he was carrying you! 

Your teacher nervously came out the greet him where Hawks loudly exclaimed. "Oh, yes sorry for the late introduction and  thank you for looking after my daughter." His sharp eyes carefully caught every face in playground and noticed a certain group of kids looking like a deer in the head lights. It didn't take him long to figure out who putting all that orphan crap in your head, he made note to have a word with they're parents...

Keigo was brought out of his thoughts by you tugging on him. "Daddy let me down." he looked at you bemused before remembering right school!... Damn it, he didn't want to let you go! your first day was months ago! He reluctantly set you on the ground but didn't let go of your hand. Why the hell was the separation anxiety kicking in now? *because you weren't there the first time...* he mentally berated himself for missing out on that mile stone several in fact.

 The blond was confused why the school hadn't been calling him about you, he found out that one of his PR directors had been intercepting anything school related meant for Keigo and sending random representatives or sidekicks to attend them... Because apparently being a widowed father didn't look cool or edgy enough for the #2 hero's public image, Needles to say that guy wasn't part of Hawk's PR teams by the end of the day.

Keigo walked you the front door then crouched down at your level. "I'll be waiting right here when it's time go home, alright?" You nodded the and hugged your dad, (who may or not of slipped a feather on you, just in case.) "Have a good day, I love you." You nodded as walked inside leaving your dad outside, he stared at the school by before taking a deep breath and flying off...

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

{Wing horns photo source from a Manga called: Demon mother!}

[magnus-the-maqnificent]

Let's Analyze - Alec in CoFA

So, I’ve been seeing plenty of discourse on two of my mutual’s blogs about this topic… so I thought I’d sit down and write another analysis post about my beloved Alec Lightwood cause people are still giving him shit for a book that came out ten years ago 🤦‍♀️

This is gonna be in two parts, and I'm putting both under the cut:

PART 1 - ALEC’S INSECURITIES 

So, the first part - how Alec’s insecurities drove him to saying stupid things in CoFA

A quick disclaimer - I’m NOT blaming Alec alone for his and Magnus’s break up. What happened was pretty complicated, and the blame cannot be put on one person alone. 

That said, let’s start with Magnus and Alec’s early ‘official’ relationship, in trsom.

These scenes are taken from only the first part of the book, but I’m pretty sure they’re more than enough to get a sense of Alec’s insecurities and all the chinks in their relationship. Throughout the entirety of trsom, we see more bits and pieces of Alec’s insecurities about Magnus’s sexuality, and his past and all the people he might have known - and that’s okay! Insecurities happen, cause brains are stupid like that.

But all of Alec’s insecurities could’ve been laid to rest with a simple conversation. But the conversation never happens. Magnus tends to deflect and change the topic every single time his past is brought up. I understand Magnus’s reasons for hiding his past, of course, but it doesn’t help his relationship with Alec. Magnus hiding a good chunk of his past will inevitably lead to Alec questioning himself - why is he so secretive? Why is he not telling me anything? Does he not trust me? ...and so on.

And when Alec is already feeling insecure in this relationship, this happens - (sorry about the terrible cropping btw)

And then later, while Magnus is talking to Camille,

Now… when people are insecure about something, they get irked at the smallest of things. I’m saying this as an insecure person myself. So now, you've got Alec, who's insecure as fuck, and his vacation with the person he loves got cut short by his ex who refuses to talk to anyone but him, and when they get there, his lover and his lover's ex seem to have obvious chemistry, he gets hit with the reality that his lover has dated several, probably even hundreds of people before him; and he has to leave them alone in a room so they can talk, and then he hears the ex basically just list all his shortcomings - i.e, his mortality, his appearance is compared to some random dead guy (sorry, Will) whom your lover had a crush on, which is just weird, and when you've had enough and open the door, it's to see your lover and his ex, standing close as fuck, and he's! touching! her! face! and! looking! into! her! eyes!

*takes a sip of water* yeahhhh... Alec was straight up having a bad day.

And at this point, a) Alec is still in his first relationship. He didn't get to navigate romance when he was younger, and while there's nothing wrong with that, there weren't exactly cutesy presentations titled 'how to keep your relationships healthy' floating around the internet. Heck, he didn’t know the internet. He didn't know that he had to communicate with Magnus, and it doesn't help that boy avoids conversations about feelings like the plague. And b) at this point, Alec would be facing several negative emotions - insecurity, obviously. Hurt. Helplessness, because of his mortality. Fear, that he might not live up to Magnus’s past lovers. Jealousy at seeing Magnus and Camille so close.

Negative emotions like these often tend to show up as anger or sorrow... and in Alec’s case, that would be anger. Which leads us to THIS- (🙈)

*sighs in second-hand embarrassment*

*drinks more water*

*this is gonna be so hard aksjakak*

So. Alec dealt with his insecurities... by being a mean, mean bitch to Magnus :/

Let's break this scene down, slowly, bit by bit.

First, Alec cuts into a conversation between Magnus and Jordan, when Magnus mentions Woolsey Scott, followed the rest of that particular page. To Alec, he's just a figure from Magnus’s past, and a possible lover, though in Alec’s defense Woolsey Scott WAS Magnus’s lover. This is the first instance that we see in which Alec lashes out at Magnus. It seems like he's trying to make a point to Magnus - "I don't know anything about your past, and so I don't know who you've had romances with, but I want to know." Except he makes his point in the worst way possible and ends up slutshaming Magnus.

The "What's true?" line, in response to Jordan saying "so it's true what they say about warlocks, then?" is pretty obvious. Alec is clearly not liking the idea that this random werewolf might know about warlocks, and in particular, his Warlock boyfriend.

Next... ooh boy... Alec basically snaps and in the next few paragraphs accuses Magnus of wanting to flirt with others which... is not a good look on ya honey 😕. These lines are the ones that get him accused of being biphobic... but is he really? I'm gonna talk about that in part 2.

So, in the first paragraph, where Alec makes the comments about Jordan, I find his choice of words pretty... interesting, seeing as 'messy-haired', 'broad-shouldered' and 'chiseled-good-looks' are all used to describe Alec in the series. Not sure if its relevant, but definitely interesting.

And in the next one, where Alec says, "or there are plenty of pretty girls here, since apparently your taste goes both ways. Is there anything you aren't into?" The 'apparently' makes me curious. In rsom, Alec mentions that he's only recently heard of the term bisexual, and there's plenty of time between rsom and cofa, so Alec should be absolutely sure of atleast the basic meaning of bisexuality. But I'm pretty sure it's just inconsistency on cc's part, since if rsom didn't exist, this book would be the first time Alec learns about Magnus’s bisexuality. (Which is obvious when you look at the scene after Magnus reveals that Camille is his girlfriend.) And as for the second sentence, I feel like it's a fallback to earlier in the book when Magnus says (I'm just gonna write the dialogue from memory), "I've dated men, women, warlocks, faeries, vampires, werewolves and even a djinn or two." Here, Alec is angry, and he takes the knowledge that Magnus has dated a variety of people and once again, lashes out.

Looking at all of it together, Alec’s insecurities are definitely a factor in all of this. We know Alec has pretty low self esteem in tmi, and he keeps having irrational thoughts about someone else grabbing Magnus’s attention, like in the trsom scene I've posted above. And he ends up taking out his insecurities on Magnus.

Was it wrong of Alec to say all those things to Magnus? Yes, absolutely. But looking back through all his scenes in cofa, it's easy to see how he could've fallen into the pit trap of emotions.

And before anyone says "but it wasn't addressed in the later books", it was, in CoLS. I’ve hit the image limit, so I'm just gonna type it out -

"[Magnus] said it would be better if he didn’t come. Apparently him and the Seelie Queen have some kind of history."

Isabelle raised her eyebrows.

"Not that kind of history," Alec said irritably. "Some kind of feud. Though," he added, half under his breath, "the way he got around before me, I wouldn't be surprised."

"Alec!" Isabelle dropped back to talk to her brother....

So, there. Alec makes yet another slutshaming comment, Isabelle overhears and is clearly not happy about it, and it's clearly implied that she talks to Alec about it. And Alec doesn't make any more slutshaming comments since then. Boy now knows what he did was wrong, and makes sure not to repeat it again.

Although, I do wish we had more than this. I wish we had more of Magnus and Alec talking about this argument, heck, even about all their arguments and the reasons they broke up, but you can't get everything you want, apparently :(

And now onto the next part...

PART 2 - IS ALEC BIPHOBIC?

The short answer, uh, no, not really.

The long answer.... would be complicated.

So, back in the day, when this discourse was at an all time high, I remember reading a bisexual person's essay about this topic, and they said that this comment from Alec - "or there are plenty of pretty girls here, since apparently your taste goes both ways. Is there anything you aren't into?" - would be a biphobic microagression.

According to Google, a microagression is "a statement, action, or incident regarded as an instance of indirect, subtle, or unintentional discrimination against members of a marginalized group such as a racial or ethnic minority".

And in Alec's case, IF his words were biphobic, they were completely unintentional. They were microagressive. Which is... still bad, of course, but it's more complicated than that.

If you look back on Alec's supposedly biphobic statements, they're more about Magnus’s hypersexuality and promiscuity than anything else. Yes, even the line i mentioned like two paragraphs ago. At first glance it may seem like a direct attack on Magnus’s sexuality, but think over the explanation I gave for the line and it will make sense. And a lot of people know that the whole 'bi people fuck around a lot and are cheaters' thing is a stereotype.

Now, it may seem like I'm going off topic here, but bear with me. I couple of days ago, I watched this video by chance. (Tw for the aids crisis and lots of biphobia, not from the narrator, if you wanna watch the video). Basically, back in the 1980s, bisexual men were scapegoated for spreading aids to the straight community and were vilified by popular media as being promiscuous scepters who would cheat on their wives with gay men and then give aids to their wives. (Yikes 😬). And since bisexuality was practically unheard of before all this (several bisexual activists have stated that all this shit, though unfortunate, pulled bisexuality out of the closet), it's safe to assume that this is how those stereotypes came to be - through 1980s propaganda.

But living with this propaganda is... a very limiting experience. The people who leaned and unlearned and fought against this propaganda are mostly US Americans who grew up with it, either the actual propaganda itself or passed down by their parents. But like I said, it's a very limiting experience. US is but one country out of many, and even for those living in the USA there's a chance that they grew up in a very hush-hush environment. People who grew up hearing all these stereotypes will see it as biphobia, while people who didn't - like Alec, and me, and several other people will not. A lot of people grow up with absolutely no knowledge of the queer community, and chances are that they'll be incredibly confused when a stereotype is pointed out to them, and they often get no more explanation than 'this is a harmful stereotype'. Queer experiences aren't the same for everyone, and while I respect the people who see this as biphobia, they should recognize that there are many people who won't see it that way.

I have seen bisexual people say that Alec's words were biphobic, and I've also seen bisexual people say that they weren't. Thus, there is no clear consensus about whether or not Alec was being biphobic. And like I said earlier, Alec grew up far, far away from mundane anti-queer bigotry. He was essentially a clean slate when it came to knowledge of eer microagressions of any kind, because microagressions and stereotypes are often incredibly specific, don't have anything to do with a person's race/sexuality/gender, etc. and will make zero sense unless you know the history behind them. To Magnus, who lived through the anti-bisexual scapegoating, the words would've definitely stung, but Alec didn't even know the implications he would be making with this words! Of course, the impact is greater than intention, and I imagine Magnus would sit Alec down one day and talk about all this history with him.

And idk if I can even blame cc cause the history of bisexual men is RARELY ever talked about, atleast on the internet.

Also, this scene in cofa is the only instance where he can be interpreted to be biphobic. Nowhere else in all of tmi, and even tec, do we see Alec express hatred or disgust or microagression towards bisexual people. If this was seen in a repeating pattern from Alec, one could argue that he's biphobic... but he isn't. Some might point to some of his internal thoughts in trsom to argue otherwise, but I believe that actions are superior than thoughts.

There's also the thing about unlearning prejudices, but in Alec's case there was hardly anything to be unlearned. The only prejudices he did pick up on were against himself, through vague homophobic comments from Robert.

P.S if you've read this far, I am legally entitled to compensation for thinking of cofa Alec for 48 hours. Put your favorite Alec moments in my askbox cause I wanna focus on his good side now. 😎

But yeah, the main thing here is that Alec has grown from his mistakes, apologized, and hasn't repeated this behavior at all.

And lastly, I just wanted to add - I don't think all this was unintentional on the author's part. She's grown up with the us American queer community, and has mentioned that she has bisexual friends, who have no doubt faced prejudices because of these stereotypes. I think she was trying to condemn making such statements, but a lot of people don't read between the lines and end up misinterpreting it and make both the character and her to be biphobic.

So... TLDR; was what Alec said biphobic? Maybe. It depends on who you're talking to. Is Alec, as a person, biphobic? Nope. Not at all. 😌

[hournites]

You Can Talk to Me

Stargirl Spoilers -  2x03 Fix It fic/Alt Ending 

What if Beth went after The Shade?

It’s crazy that Pat trusts them to be at the Pit Stop alone. Rick’s thankful for it. He sleeps over on the couch in the loft when it’s useful. Not all the time, just when it doesn’t make sense to drive back home and deal with life there. It’s his place, Rick has come to think of it. He doesn’t own it or anything like that. But he’s comfortable with the smell and the noises. The railing overlooking the cars, the shadow of STRIPE towering high in the corner. Beth comes and goes, visiting him. More times than not, she’ll pull out her laptop and they’ll get nowhere with the goggles again. At first it was frustrating, not that they were failing at fixing them, but that Beth needed them so bad. Rick knows the goggles meant a lot to her but he hadn’t truly understood how much her life revolved around Chuck until he was gone. Her impatience has morphed into desperation. Rick had been watching it consume her, wary of it. 

But then Pat mentioned Dr. McNider’s death at the hands of The Shade. And her eyes went owlish as she processed the extra layer of loss. And Rick tried to warn her, pulled her back while they met with the mysterious villain, even. But he couldn’t stop her when he was pinned to the wall, arms stretched out and pulled in each way by shadows. When a wild determination got Beth out of the chair she’d been slammed into faster than Pat had pulled Mike from the ground. 

The Shade raised an eyebrow, surprised to see Dr. Mid-Nite back up on her feet. And gave her another warning.

A warning that had her on the couch, hunched over with a makeshift bag of ice against her side. 

“Let me look at it.” Rick settles beside her, placing the first aid kit Barbara forced Pat to get after the Sportsmaster drill fiasco between them. 

Beth shuts her eyes and shakes her head. “It’s just a bruise.” 

“I meant your hands.” He doesn’t wait for her answer, taking her limp wrist and guiding it over his lap. He inspects the cuts and bruises littered against her knuckles. He’s had so many like them it was like normal on his own skin. On Beth’s it was jarring. The red marks and scratches against her dark fingers. Her hand is surprisingly still soft too, but he’s not sure why that exact thought comes to mind. “You shouldn’t have punched the table.” 

“I was trying to punch The Shade.”

“Which you knew was impossible.” 

Beth glares. 

Rick sighs and reaches for the gauze. “We’ll wrap them, okay?” 

“We never wrap your fingers,” she comments primly. Rick unravels the roll and gets to work, struggling a little with the tiny medical scissors. She’s right. They don’t. 

“I have super strength,” he reminds her gently. “Don’t feel it the way you do.” 

Beth turns her head aside, not very pleased with his answer. She jerks her hand back reflexively only a few times when he disinfects cuts or wipes away blood.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“Sorry.” Rick fumbles a bit more. “Never exactly done this before.”

It takes a while but Rick has set his mind on getting this done since he has two hands and they’re both bashed up. One of the yellow lightbulbs overhead starts to flicker.  

“Can we talk about it?” Rick asks eventually. 

“No,” she says. 

He sighs and stops messing with the gauze. Stops staring at her hands. He places it back on her lap and stops completely. That gets her to look up at him. Rick leans his head against the couch, eyes pleading. “You can talk to me.” 

“I know it was stupid,” she starts. 

“You’re not stupid,” Rick interjects firmly. 

Beth furrows her brows. “I didn’t say that. I don’t think I am. I think that fighting a literal shadow that has killed Charles McNider without a plan was possibly not so bright of me. But I don’t regret doing it.” She steels her jaw. “I’d do it again.” 

“I know.” Rick can see that resolution in her challenging stare. That’s exactly what scares him. “But you don’t have to.” 

“I do have to,” Beth picks at her gauze. “The world is really big, Rick. And for a long time, Chuck was the only one who got me. If.I lose Chuck forever, Dr. McNider is already gone. I can’t fix Chuck but I can avenge the original Dr. Mid-Nite.” 

“Yeah, I hear all that,” Rick says. Not dismissively, but he needs to move around it. “But what if you get hurt?” 

The question hangs in the air. 

“I already am hurt!” Beth shouts sharply, blinking back tears. Rick knows she’s not talking about her knuckles or bruised side. “My parents--” 

“Your parents?” 

Beth stands, Rick tugs on her sleeve to get her back down, but she disentangles herself from him, stepping away. Wiping her face with her sleeves, she cries for real. “I think they’re getting a divorce.” 

Rick blinks at her. “W-what? Did they tell you something?” 

“No...” It’s complicated, that word. And Beth is fascinating. She breaks apart in front of him then knits herself back together. He can’t believe that she can do that. He wonders how many times she’s done the very thing sitting across from him at lunch. “There were papers...” 

“Papers are just papers.” 

“I know but, I just...They said it and...” 

“Beth.” Rick reaches out his hand for Beth to take, leading her back to the couch. She sits gingerly, but she’s watching him. “You should talk to them.” A thought pops into his head that startles him, and he’s suddenly blurting it out. “It’s what I’d want to do with my parents.” 

Her mouth parts open, also taken aback by his honesty. Then she nods, and there’s a moment where neither of them know what to say or do. 

Then he remembers, her hand still needs that gauze. 

He grabs her hand, thinking about gauze and Beth gasps audibly. 

“What?” he asks, glancing back up. 

“...Nothing,” she answers. But her hand is now shaking in a way Rick hadn’t noticed before. 

[stevesnailbat]

shampoo bottles | steve harrington

summary: After your breakup, Steve can’t get over you and resorts to using your shampoo for comfort. 

warnings: angst <3 with a happy ending

word count: 

a/n: surprise two fics in a day <3 loosely based on shampoo bottles by peach pit 

The near-empty shampoo and conditioner bottles that once belonged to you sit in the corner of Steve’s shared shower, haunting him on the daily. They practically mock him every time he gets into the shower, like they’re trying to make his heart break even more than it already has. 

He knows it’s so wrong and so weird to just keep them there in the corner, but he doesn’t have the heart to move them. He misses you more than he ever cares to admit and somehow, keeping your shampoo in the shower gives him a crumb of comfort to aid with the strong ache in the middle of his chest.

Steve is all too aware of the bottles in the corner when he steps into the steaming shower this time. 

He swore to himself that he’d never use them, that they’d only sit there in the corner until he was finally over you, that he’d get over you eventually. But eventually felt like an eternity away when there was a constant reminder of you staring him down every time he got under the water. 

It had been a month since you’d seen each other, and Steve was desperate to hear something, anything from you. It was some kind of pride thing for him, though. He wouldn’t dare to be the first to call you, even if it was his fault that you left.

The water streaming down Steve’s shoulders is boiling hot, but he barely notices, preoccupied with the temptation to finally open the bottles in front of him.  

He only gives his Fabergé Organics a momentary glance before swallowing his pride, reaching for your shampoo in the corner. The smell of the peppermint and tea tree hangs in the air when he pops the lid open, a pang of guilt shooting through his chest as he does. He used to hate the way the scent made his nose itch and his skin tingle, but it’s slowly become the only sensation that makes him feel like he did when you loved him.

Most of the time, Steve doesn’t let himself actually use them, but it’s different now—he needs it. A sigh falls from his lips as he flips the bottle to let the gel fall into his palm, embracing the feeling of regret and nostalgia that it gives him. When the shampoo hits his hair, memories of you flood his mind.

“You’re so dramatic, Stevie,” you laugh, grinning up at him as he turns his head to dodge your lathered hands. “Using this stuff one time isn’t going to ruin your hair. It’s actually good for it!”

“I don’t believe you,” Steve says with a frown, shaking his head frantically as he holds onto your wrists gently. “Shampoo should not make your scalp tingle like that.”

“It’ll help get rid of all of that hairspray gunk in your hair! C’mon, just try it—“

“No, that’s not happening,” he retorts, finally cracking a smile as he watches your lips fall into a pout.

You’re silent for a long moment, taking in his flushed cheeks and lips pulled into an amused smirk as he waits for your defiance. The only thing to be heard is the sound of your breath and the beating of the water against the shower tile.

Instead of coming up with some witty response, you stand on your toes to pull him into a kiss, catching him by surprise. His hands fall from your wrists and land on your waist as he leans into the kiss, careful to make sure you don’t slip on the wet tub and take the both of you down. You smile against his lips, reaching your still partially-lathered fingers up to his head to rake through his hair. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he mumbles when he pulls away from the kiss, laughing softly as his head falls to rest on your shoulder. 

“I think you’re the ridiculous one” you quip, massaging his scalp as you run the shampoo through his hair.

Steve only hums in response, his eyes falling shut while the tingle of the shampoo and softness of your touch send shivers through his body. The tingle wasn’t anything like he’d expected; maybe he could get used to the feeling.

Using the shampoo and conditioner on his own isn’t the same. He wishes more than anything that you could do it for him. He wishes more than anything that he could feel you kiss his skin as you finish massaging his scalp one last time. He wishes more than anything that you hadn’t left and that he hadn’t been the reason that you left.

“Y’know, I really think you should call them,” Robin says from the couch with a curious look on her face as Steve steps out of their shared bathroom. 

“Call who?” he questions, furrowing his brow at her. 

“You know who I’m talking about,” she responds, eyes flickering to the bathroom behind him. “Fabergé Organics doesn’t smell like tea tree and peppermint, Steve.” 

“I’m just trying to use them up. Don’t want them to go to waste, that’s all,” he says as a frown spreads across his face and a blush over his cheeks. 

“Oh, I’m sure that’s the only reason,” Robin laughs, rolling her eyes at him as he walks towards his bedroom. “I’m sure they’d be willing to listen if you did give them a call, though.”

Steve turns away and huffs before closing the door to his bedroom. He ignores Robin’s suggestion at first, but the thought of calling you persists in his mind for the rest of the day. 

Peppermint lingers on his pillow and in his hair once he goes to bed, waking him up multiple times in the dead of night when he catches the scent. His chest aches every time it wakes him up, the temptation to call you growing stronger every time he’s pulled from his peaceful sleep. 

He knows better than to call you in the middle of the night, he really does. But that doesn’t stop him from picking up the phone on his bedside table at three in the morning. His mind wanders as he’s dialing, fear of being rejected by you creeping up as he dials your number from memory. He pushes his doubts down as he presses that last digit, swallowing his pride when the dial tone rings through the receiver. 

Truthfully, he doesn’t expect you to pick up. It’s the middle of the night, and it’s a weekday, there’s a slim chance that you’ll pick up. But, he wants to say that he tried to talk to you, even if it was a thinly-veiled attempt surrounded by fear. 

He doesn’t expect you to pick up, but you do. Your voice makes his heart skip a beat, his breath catching in his throat as you speak. 

When you answer, there’s radio silence from the other line. You’re just as confused as he is honestly, but you don’t even know it’s him yet, since you answered the phone without a second thought.  

“Hello?” you say for a second time, growing irritated at someone calling you in the middle of the night in the first place. 

“Hi,” a faint voice comes from your phone, making your breath catch in your throat—Steve?

You’re not sure how to react to a late night phone call from your ex, so you freeze. You’re not annoyed, really. Honestly? You’re more hurt than anything that he waited so long to finally call you. Both of you are quiet for what seems like an eternity, uncertain of how to start a conversation. Eventually, Steve lets out a laugh that carries through the phone. 

“Sorry—” he stammers, letting out another breathy laugh. “I’m sorry, I just—I don’t know why I called.” 

Your stomach drops as he laughs, anger rising at him finding humor in the situation. But, the laugh stops quickly, leaving you in radio silence once again. 

“Are you just trying to make this situation worse, Steve?” you sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows in the bed as you press the phone to your ear. 

“No—No, I’m not!” he says quickly. “I’m not trying to make things worse, I mean that I don’t know why I called you right now, I guess. I—I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You’re quiet as Steve stammers over his words, nearly feeling the blush radiating from his skin through the phone. 

“I used your shampoo today—and I know that’s pathetic, I know it is—”

“You hate that shampoo, Steve.” you say hesitantly, unsure of if he’s completely serious or not. 

“I hated it, but not anymore because it reminds me of you and—and I can’t stop thinking about you, I’ve been thinking about you all day and couldn’t wait until the morning to call you,” he confesses, the words flowing from his lips without a second thought. “I’m sorry for everything. I messed up, I know I did, and I’m so sorry.”

“Steve—”

“Actually, I can’t do this over the phone. I can’t—” he says frantically. “Are you at home?”

“Obviously, but it’s three in the morning—”

“I know, I know, please just—just stay up for ten more minutes, please.” he pleads. 

You sigh into the phone as you hear the other line go dead, knowing that he’s too stubborn and relentless to stay at home and that he’s already halfway to his car by now. It’s not even ten minutes later that you hear a small knock on your apartment door, and have to take a deep breath before even thinking about opening the door. 

When you open the door, Steve’s expression softens and his shoulders relax, relieved that you actually opened the door for him. 

“You better give me a damn good reason for opening this door, or I’m never even thinking about speaking to you again,” you snap, narrowing your eyes at him while standing in the doorway, not letting him into the living room yet.

“Y/N, I really am sorry. I—I wish I could go back and fix it all. I realize that I should’ve been honest with you from the start, but there’s a lot that I’m afraid you wouldn’t believe,” he continues, voice shaky as he talks. “I understand if you don’t want to listen because I should’ve done this in the first place, but I’m willing to tell you the whole truth about my past if you’ll let me.”

“Using my shampoo really made you miss me this much?” you laugh, but he only frowns at you when you ask. 

“I’m serious, Y/N.” he says softly, a look of defeat on his face. 

You sigh and your smirk falls, realizing how genuine he’s actually being. He looks lost and hurt, like he’s been waiting for this moment for way too long now. It makes your heart ache to see him like this, and now you feel guilty about teasing him. There’s something in his eyes that always makes you believe him immediately; you’re not sure if that’s a good thing or not, but you really don’t care right now. 

“Steve,” you sigh, unable to get another word out. 

There’s so many things that you could say, but nothing comes out. You want to scream at him for waiting so long, you want to cry and yell at him for letting you leave when he should’ve fought, but you don’t. 

Instead, you take a step towards him and pause for a moment. His eyes lock with yours and you feel at home, you’re finally reunited with the one person that left a hole in your heart that only he could fill. You don’t let yourself have a second thought before reaching for his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. 

The smell of peppermint and tea tree hits your nose when you do, and you’re reminded of all of the times that he jokingly complained about the smell, all the times that he scrunched his nose up when you opened that bottle of shampoo, all the times that he washed your hair with it after a long day. Your chest feels warm and you get a familiar, welcome feeling in your stomach as his arm wraps around your waist, careful to make sure you don’t slip and take the both of you down. 

Steve is the first to pull away from the kiss, a small smile on his lips as he rests his forehead against yours. 

“I think I might love the smell of peppermint and tea tree now,” he laughs. 

“Yeah, me too.”

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[granolabird]

I’ll Always be There For You

Tonights episode was a doozy. BUT!! We got some solid Hournite moments so I’m here with a fic of Beth taking care of Rick after his fight with Artemis, and they have a conversation regarding Rick’s self-sacrifice habits. 

Warnings: Mention of injury. Lots of fluff :)

Post 2x06 so if you’re not there yet in the show, there are spoilers ahead!

Tagging @blackfemmecharacterdependency 

!! If you want to be tagged for next Tuesday’s Hournite fic feel free to ask :)

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It’s late at the Pit Stop, but neither Beth nor Rick want to go home. Yolanda is long gone, having to comply with the curfew set by her parents, leaving Beth and Rick alone. So here they are, sitting close as they try to comprehend what’s happened. Things had been going so well, and then Eclipso had escaped, killing Issaac, Cindy, and possibly The Shade too. Rick adjusts in his chair with a grimace, his breathing labored as he struggles with the pain of his broken rib.

“Rick! Are you okay?”

Rick forces a smile onto his face as he turns to Beth,

“I’ll be alright, yeah.”

“Are you sure? There’s not much I can do, broken ribs need to heal on their own but I can double check that everything’s okay, if you want?”

“It’s a broken rib, it’ll heal in time. I’ve had one before, I’ll live.” “You’ve had one before!? Rick, how do you get yourself into these situations?”

“It wasn’t my fault. It was Matt.”

“Oh.”

A moment of silence, and Rick sighs as he sees Beth begin to fidget restlessly. She does that whenever she isn’t sure what to say. He’s pretty sure it’s a habit she’s picked up from him.

“There is something you can help with.” He offers, and Beth immediately perks up, looking his way.

“Really?” “I think there’s a cut on my arm from one of the porcelain shards from my fight with Artemis. Now that the rib pain is starting to settle, my arm is really starting to hurt.” He rolls his left arm as he says it, and Beth gets up immediately, sliding around him to look at his arm.

“Well, roll your sleeve up and I’ll take a look.” She gestures to his injured arm, and he forces back a wince as he rolls up his sleeve. 

“Jeez!” 

“What? Is it that bad?” Rick cranes his head to see his wound, but stops when it sends a jolt of pain through his cracked ribs. “Well it’s not that good. But you’ll live.” Beth provides a small laugh and Rick is glad that she still has the capacity to joke despite everything they’d witnessed tonight.

Beth walks over to the table and begins organising her first aid kit, grabbing cotton balls, rubbing alcohol and bandages and putting them into a neat stack.

“Doesn’t your costume protect you from injury? How did this happen?” She asks, and Rick sighs, rubbing the back of his neck with his good arm.

“The cape protects me. The costume is just as vulnerable as I would be without it on.” He explains and Beth’s head shoots up, her eyes wide.

“Rick!” Her tone is accusatory.

“What?” “You jumped in front of me when Artemis shot at me. If those arrows didn’t hit your cape, they could’ve killed you!”

“It was worth the risk. I couldn’t let anything happen to you. I’d never forgive myself if something happened and I could’ve saved you.” And that’s the honest truth. 

If anything happened to Beth, it would be the end for Rick. He would go off the deep end, let his rage consume him, probably get himself killed doing something stupid. She was the only person he truly trusted, the person who always had his back no matter what. The two of them had a bond like no others on the team, they grounded one another, and kept each other safe and sane. If something were to happen to Beth… Rick can’t even bring himself to think of what he might do to whoever had done it.

“Rick.” He had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t realized Beth had sidled up to him with her medical supplies tucked under her arm. He doesn’t look at her, not sure if his words had been too intimate. This is just like him, to go and say something that ruins a relationship, now things are going to be awkward between him and Beth and-

There’s a soft hand on his cheek, directing him to look at Beth.

“Rick.” She’s got such a deep look of concern on her face and it tugs at his heartstrings to see her so worried for him.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t need to risk yourself for me. I can fend for myself.”

“No, Beth, you can’t. You don’t have strength like me and Yolanda, or a weapon like Court. You have your goggles, and you're brilliant, but on the battlefield I worry that isn’t enough. I worry that it’ll get you hurt one day, and if you get hurt I won’t know what to do with myself.”

Her hand is still resting on his cheek, and as he makes eye contact with her he can see she’s formulating a reply, trying to find words to reassure Rick that she’ll be alright. 

“If I get hurt, then you’ll get me to safety. You always do.”

“Beth, we saw Issac and Cindy die tonight. That could’ve been any of us. I can’t get you to safety if you’re… if you...”

“I could say the same about you.” She shakes her head softly and lifts her hand from his face, kneeling to begin cleaning his arm wound.

“That’s different.” Rick huffs, trying not to jerk his arm away when he feels the sting of rubbing alcohol on his cut.

“Really? How?” Beth asks, giving Rick a side glance.

“I’m me. I can take a lot of hits, and if something happens to me? The world keeps turning. I’m more of a nuisance than anything.”

“Rick!”

“It’s true! I have no potential, I’m not going anywhere with my life. You, on the other hand? Beth, you’re destined for great things. Everyone loves you, and you make everyone’s life better. I make everything worse. That’s just who I am.”

“I am going to give you a stern talking to as soon as I finish bandaging your arm. I just need to focus, give me a moment.” Beth huffs, as she begins to wrap Rick’s arm. 

Rick can’t help but laugh, but his chuckle causes the pain in his ribs to flare, making him stop abruptly with a grunt. 

It’s a while before Beth is done, but as soon as she is she gets up, face determined, and pulls her chair in front of Rick. Then she sits so her knees are touching his, and frowns at him. Rick can’t help but smile a little. She looks so cute when she’s trying to be angry at him.

“Hey! Don’t smile, this is serious business.”

“Right, sorry, no smiling.” 

He still smiles just a little.

“Rick, we care about you. You know that right? He shrugs awkwardly, looking at the floor. “Yolanda, Court, Pat, Mike, me, we all care about you. You can’t just keep putting yourself in danger for us saying it’s because you don’t matter, because you do matter! You matter to us!” 

A pause, and then she says a little quieter

“You matter to me.”

He looks up at her, and there are tears in her eyes. She’s genuinely concerned for him. Rick doesn’t know how to react. In all his life he cannot recall someone being so worried for his safety. His parents were, once, but his memory of them is so faded that he barely considers it real.

“You matter to me too.” It’s an awkward confession, but Beth provides Rick with a smile, and so Rick smiles back. The pair laugh for a while, until Rick’s ribs flare up again and he has to stop. 

“So, do you promise not to recklessly throw yourself into danger anymore?” Beth is back to her stern side, and he sighs.

“Fine. But if you’re in trouble there’s no guarantee.” 

“Rick!”

“Hey, I’m just being honest!”

“I appreciate your honesty, but I don’t want you to put yourself in danger because of me.” Beth pokes his knee indignantly.

“But I will. I’m sorry but I will, You’d do the same for me. It’s just the way we are, I think.” 

Beth throws her head back with a disgruntled huff.

“I hate that you’re right.”

He smiles at her, and when she moves her head back down to look at him he sees that she’s smiling softly too. 

“What are we gonna do with ourselves? We’re a mess.” Beth says with a breathy laugh, as she presses her head into her hands.

“Keep on protecting each other I guess.” That’s the best answer Rick can provide. It’s not perfect, but nothing ever is with him.

“Right.” Beth is looking at him again, and there’s something there. Some sort of tension, and Rick thinks there’s something she wants to say. Whatever it is, Beth leaves it unspoken and pushes her chair back, getting up. 

“Well, now that you’re all taken care of I should probably head home. I don’t want to get back too late.” She brushes herself off awkwardly and then starts to pack up her first aid kit.

“Oh, yeah. I’m staying here for the night, but I can give you a ride home, if you want?” Rick offers.

“Can you even drive with broken ribs?”

“Probably. It’s not that far anyway.”

“Alright, but if it hurts too much I can walk.”

Rick nods in agreement, and takes as deep of a breath as he can before he stands, powering through the pain. Then, he and Beth make their way down the stairs to his car. She hops into the passenger seat, and he slides into the driver seat. It’s quiet as he puts the key into the ignition, neither of them quite sure what to say after the deep conversation they’d just had. As the car begins to move, Beth speaks up.

“Thanks, Rick.”

“For giving you a ride? I always do that, you don’t need to thank me every time.”

“For everything. For saving me, for being there for me, and for giving me a ride. And for every other thing you’ve done to keep me together through everything. Just… thanks.”

“Oh. Uh, you're welcome I guess? It’s nothing you wouldn’t have done for me.”

“You always say that, but that’s not the point. The point is, over the last little while you’ve done so much to help me. And I’m grateful for that. You don’t need to compare yourself to me. Just know that I’m grateful.”

“I… Alright.” Rick taps his fingers on the steering wheel awkwardly as they pull down Beth’s street, and then stop in front of her house. 

There’s another moment of tense silence that is so common between the unsure teens, and then Beth turns and throws herself at Rick, embracing him in a hug. Rick is startled for a moment, and then the pain in his ribs sets in and he lets out a faint

“Ow. My ribs, Beth.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I entirely forgot!” She lets go instantly, and she looks him over frantically. 

“It’s okay Beth, I’m fine.” He chuckles, and that eases her worry. 

She still checks him over one last time with her goggles just to be sure, and then unbuckles her seatbelt and opens her door.

“I guess if you’re sure you're ok I should get going... Um... goodnight.”

“Goodnight Beth. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow! And if you start coughing up blood, or the pain gets worse, call an Ambulance! Don’t call me, I am not a medical professional. Do call me afterwards though, so I can make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay Beth. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

They share one last Smile, before Beth closes the car door and heads to her house, throwing one last look over her shoulder and waving to Rick. Rick gives her a small wave back, before turning around and driving back to the Pit Stop. After tonight, Rick isn’t sure what the two of them are to each other. There was some sort of admittance, he’s not quite sure how to explain it. It wasn’t a grand confession of love, but it was something. Something has changed between them, and all Rick can do is grip his steering wheel and hope it'll all turn out alright. Somewhere deep inside, beyond his shattered ribs, he knows it’ll turn out alright.