#i know it’s because they’re vain about their hair but at a certain point…

[howsdeanshole]

hunters should all wear helmets on hunts. why do they not do this? you’re in the Getting Beat Up by Scaries line of work, fine, it doesn’t also have to be the Getting Concussions job.

[myfictionaldreams]

request: nyx x female reader where they’re matted but don’t know it and reader visits him at the illyrian camps and she gets hurt and nyx loses it

Don't Touch // Adult!Nyx (ACoTaR) x Fem!Reader

A/N: I can't even thank you enough, anon, for this request! I've been desperate to write something like this (especially including my sweet love Nyx; I have an entire headcanon/long-form story of him already, oops). Thank you for requesting! To you or anything else, please request more SJM fics, I am adoring writing them.

Warning: there is a description of visibly seeing the colour of bruising on the skin. Also, intense emotions and responses to situations due to the mating bond.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, minor injuries, possessive behaviour/sex, obsessive behaviour, over-the-top reaction (or just right depends how you like your partners), threats of violence, aggression, rough sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, size kink, intense emotions/sex, sex until passing out :)

Words: 6.3k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

"I've never seen you like this before, Mor" You observe your friend closely as the beautiful blonde woman checks her reflection in the glass of a passing shop.

Morrigan paused, where she was currently trying to perfect her already stunning hair. Trying not to baulk from the intense, fiery stare that turned your way as she raised a single well-groomed eyebrow and attempted to sound as unconcerned as possible, "I don't know what you're referring to. I'm acting completely and utterly sane".

Linking an arm with your friend, you both continued to walk as you sarcastically agreed, "Oh yes, of course. Except that was the tenth time you've stopped to stare at your reflection and tried to fix your already pristine hair, Morrigan".

Mor rolled her brown eyes playfully, moving closer as a brisk wind brushed over the two of you. "You already know I'm vain; why is it such an issue if I want to stare at myself?" she asked, leading in the direction the two of you were walking.

"I didn't say there was an issue. I'm just pointing out that we're heading towards a certain someone's shop, and she's going to love how you look no matter what". Mor hid her face for once, but you could still see the rosy colour deepening in her cheeks.

She quickly recovered by lifting her head and flicking the blonde strands behind her shoulders. "You're one to talk. I've seen you searching over your shoulder 50 times now. Wouldn't it be because of a certain family member of mine, would it?"

There was no hiding the grin that spread across your face as your pulse quickened ever so slightly. "Nyx doesn't even know that I'm in Windhaven. I might not even see him; I'm not here for him."

"Who says I was talking about Nyx? I'm pretty sure Feyre and Rhys are here too", she laughs as you shove your shoulder into hers playfully. As you both calm down, Mor's expression turns more serious. She glances at you, "I'm surprised he hasn't sensed you're here yet. I also don't necessarily think he'll welcome you with open arms; he's attempted to shield you from this side of his life. As hard as we are trying to change the cultures and traditions of the Illyrians, most of them are still unpleasant to be around, especially if you happen to be a female, wings or not."

"You didn't have to bring me here, you know".

"Yes, well, don't make me regret it. Stay nice and close to me, and anyway", Mor paused as she paused outside Emeries shop. "I needed an excuse to come here", she admitted with as much sheepishness as Morrigan would ever allow another person to see.

You couldn't help but grin as you squealed, "Ha! I knew it!"

The bell dinged above the shop door as you followed the blonde through the door. The answer, welcomed by Emerie by the counter, "There you both are! Welcome to Windhaven, stay away from the males, and please have a lovely time", she beams, walking around the counter towards Mor.

Glancing around to give both women a private moment, you admired her shop and eyed some of the winter clothing that would be perfect for the cold weather approaching Velaris in a few months. As you ran your fingers over the lining of a beautiful coat and casually suggested over your shoulder, "If you want, I can watch the shop if you two happen to find your way upstairs. Didn't you say you have some new socks in the back room?"

"Oh yes, thank you for the reminder!" Emerie played with your antics and took Mor's hand, dragging her into the back. Smiling at seeing their happiness, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to the man whom you'd been searching for from the second of landing in Windhaven.

You and Nyx had been friends since childhood. You'd spotted a young boy flying over the Sidra, mesmerised by the freeness of his movements, not watching where you were walking, tripped and scratched your knee on the pavement. Having watched it all from the sky, Nyx landed beside you and helped you home. He hadn't laughed like the other children; he'd shown compassion and kindness.

The son of the High Lord and Lady quickly became one of your closest friends, spending every waking hour possible together when you weren't in lessons or he was in training. Along the way, lines became blurred, and you were infatuated with one another. The relationship was intense, to say the least, and the two of you often joked about being mates, but no sign of the bond had occurred yet.

Not that this mattered to you. You were thoroughly and obsessively in love with Nyx, and he was with you. In fact, his obsession and possessive behaviour were renowned throughout Velaris. Every occupant knew that you were Nyx's; if a single hair on your head was out of place, he would bring all of the power of the Night Court down on them. It was extreme at first, but in truth, you were not much of a fighter, so being able to walk around Velaris with the reputation of belonging to Nyx was a relief.

Now, however, it had been weeks since you saw him as he'd been training with the other Illyrians, and even though he used his daemati skills to talk mind to mind with you or he left intimate little notes throughout your home, it couldn't ease the ache in your chest. So when Mor mentioned visiting Emerie's shop in Windhaven, you jumped at the opportunity to see, hoping you'd run into him, even if he didn't want you near the camps.

Lost in your thoughts of black hair and vibrant blue eyes, you'd not noticed that someone had entered the shop until a male growled from behind you, "Where is she?"

Jumping and turning on the spot, you looked the Illyrian over from the golden-brown skin covered in the darkest black tattoos that stretched up his neck and over the sides of his shaved head, leaving a tuft of hair down the centre. His membranous wings were widely spread as he stood in a defensive stance, fists tightly clenched at his side and armour creased from lack of care.

"Who?" you asked innocently, facing him fully and trying not to let his anger intimidate you even though you could already smell the sourness of your anxiety and fear in the air. The stranger walks forward, the tips of his wings knocking into a collection of hats, all toppled to the floor. "Watch where you're walking!"

The male stops a step away, tilting his head and frowning with even more vigour, "What did you just say to me?" As he took another step forward, you matched his step with one backwards until you were pressed against the wall with him towering over you.

"Just - Just watch it, ok? You're knocking over the display" You pointed to the knocked-over items, but he didn't take his eyes off of you, searching over your body until your skin crawled with discomfort.

"Wherever that thief is, give her this", he shoves the letter that had been screwed up in his meaty hands into your chest. You gasp out loud at the pain that rips through your shoulder, knowing it is going to bruise, and you have to look away to hide the tears that had formed as you grasp the letter and watch him leave.

It was only as the bell rang as the male exited that Emerie and Mor rushed into the room with a dagger in hand as they rushed to your side. If it wasn't for the shock and pain in your shoulder, you would have commented and jested how they both looked flustered with dishevelled hair and swollen lips, but this was the last thing on your mind now.

"Who was just here? Why do you smell of fear?" Mor asked as she rested a hand on your arm, looking at you furiously with concern.

"I don't know his name, but he gave me this for you, Emerie." You held out the letter, ignoring how your fingers trembled as she accepted it with a roll of her eyes.

"His name is Prumlos. He works closely with my uncle, and they believe they have rights to my shop. No matter how often I tell them, they keep coming back. Unlucky for me, he trains here in Windhaven and often brings new threatening letters from my extended family. He's a really brute", she pauses as she eyes you closely, "are you ok? Did he harm you in any way?"

Swallowing the thick lump formed in your throat, you attempt to compose yourself, not wishing to seem weak in front of these two strong females. Maybe you'd been sheltered too much throughout your life, but you didn't want to be emotionally broken just because one arrogant male was rude to you, even if your shoulder throbbed terribly.

"He just gave me the letter", you managed to spit out, not looking either female in the eye.

"Bullshit. I can still smell your fear; what did he do?" Mor demanded, stepping closer.

"Nothing! I mean, he was just an arrogant male and just wanted to scare me. I'm fine, really. But could we go, please? Sorry, I know we've only just arrived. Maybe I can wait for you in the High Lord's mother's home, Mor? I just need to be shown the way". You held your breath, waiting for Mor to answer, hoping she didn't try to question you further, but thankfully, she agreed.

"I'm sorry you've been shaken up; I hope it hasn't deterred you from coming to visit me every so often," Emerie smiled gently while holding your hand.

Thanking her, you and Mor left the store and began walking down the street. "Are you sure you're ok? I can see you're still shaken up; talk to me, Little star", Mor asks a couple of silent minutes later and hearing the nickname the inner circle had named you from a child finally brought a smile to your face.

But then Mor tried to link her arm through yours, and you couldn't help but flinch as the movement caused the pain in your shoulder to worsen. Mor noticed and stopped abruptly, turning you towards her, "He did hurt you, didn't he? Tell me so I can go and deal with him".

"No! Please, Mor, can we just go? You know I hate violence".

"Do you want me to go and find Nyx?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"No!" you say urgently, looking up at her with wide eyes, "Please don't, you know how he'd react. I just want to go to Rhys' mother's home and forget about the day. I'll speak to Nyx another time".

With great reluctance, Mor nods, and the two of you continue the walk back to the home. Once inside and next to the fire, you could finally stop and relax, especially as Mor offered you a hefty glass of wine to help your nerves.

After half an hour of sipping away at the absurdly expensive win, shoes off and feet tucked beneath you, Mor suddenly sat up further in her seat with a smile, informing you, "You're about to be a very happy female".

You're confused by her statement, but then you feel it: the connection in your heart is strengthening, like the missing piece to you was suddenly warming and filling in. The front door opened, and Feyre and Rhys walked in first, followed by Cassian and Nyx.

You're half aware of Cassian's joyful greeting: "Ah, Little star! You've finally come to join the camps. We'll have you trained in no time".

You stand quickly, eyes only on Nyx as he stands in the doorway, not breathing as he stares only at you. One second, you're near the table, and the next, you're running full speed towards him, sliding across the wooden floor with your socks, not that you care as you're suddenly in his arms.

The pain had diminished the second you were reunited with him. All you cared about was breathing him in, the relaxing scents of spice and lavender, the strength of his arms as they wrapped around your waist, keeping you up off of your feet that had tucked around his hips. Your fingers clenched into curling hair at the nape of his neck, not caring that it was sweaty from where he'd been training. He could be covered in mud, and you would have jumped into his arms with as much enthusiasm.

The others in the room pretended to look busy as he continued to hold you, his face moving into the nape of his neck, and he took a deep breath, breathing in your scents. Nyx's voice was like dark silk, wrapping around you entirely as he said, "I knew you were here. I mean, I thought I was losing my mind; an hour ago, the tightness in my chest eased".

You couldn't help but giggle, kissing his cheek, "That was me; I arrived about an hour ago". Pulling back in his arms, the back of your fingers caressed against his cheek, admiring the light stubble that had grown since you'd last seen him. "I like this", you admire.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his thumbs stroking circles from where he still held up your body.

"I came to see my best friend, of course", you claimed, watching his handsome features as his smile grew to a grin, the dimple in his cheek deepening beneath your thumb. "Yes, I came to see my best friend Emerie", you joked as Nyx rolled his crystal blue eyes before moving his face back to nuzzle against your jaw.

"I've missed you", he mumbles, not caring that you both had an audience and your heart clenched tighter at the need in his voice.

"I've missed you too, more than you could ever know".

"If you two aren't mates, I'll eat my trousers", Cassian quips sarcastically over the rim of his glass of wine. Mor slaps his arm for interrupting as you're lowered back to the floor by Nyx, but you still lean on the tip of your toes, pushing your chest against his to remain close.

Admiring the passionate way Nyx is searching your face, you turn to grin as Cass is over your shoulder when the sudden deathly shift in the air has you freezing. The faelights casting a golden glow across the house dimmed as the room became cold, the fire extinguishing in a single breath.

Your head spins as you turn back to Nyx, who is staring at the opening of your shirt beneath your neck.

"What's that mark?" Nyx asked, his voice a terrifying tone you'd only heard on a handful of occasions. Instinctively, you were stepping back, but his gentle hand grabbed yours, keeping you close. You can sense his family moving closer, and Nyx doesn't wait for you to answer his question. He carefully releases your hand and pushes aside the material of your blouse until your shoulder is exposed.

Glancing down, you could see now that where Prumlos had shoved the letter into your shoulder earlier had now formed a deep purple bruise. Nyx leans forward, sniffs your skin, and his spine instantly stiffens.

"Who did that to you?" he asks, voice thick with venom and anger.

You're unable to give him an answer as Mor is suddenly by your side, holding open your shirt to stare at the injury as she gasps, "I asked if he hurt you!"

"He?!" Nyx growls, looking between Mor and you.

Attempting to take a step away from both of them, you try and calm the energy, sensing it is escalating to a level that could not be returned from. It wasn't that Nyx was scaring you; it was quite the opposite, as his protection made you feel safe; you were just frightened that he would do something he couldn't undo and start a war within the camps.

"I'm fine; it doesn't even hurt anymore" you tried to reason, but that only made Nyx breathe heavily out of his nose as he turned to Mor.

"Who did this? Give me his name. Tell me right now, Morrigan!"

Thankfully, Mor didn't answer immediately and glanced at you from the corner of your eye, knowing that you didn't want to cause a fuss, so she didn't respond immediately, which only frustrated Nyx more in his crusade for revenge. "This is why you shouldn't have bought her here! I told you on multiple occasions that it wasn't safe!"

"Nyx, you need to take a breath; maybe you and your father should go outside and release some of that energy" Feyre tried to reason with him, stepping closer, but it was useless; Nyx was like a boiling pot of deathly anger. Shadows pulsed and darkened around him, travelling up the length of his muscular arms and around his neck. Rhys and Cassian finally began to step forward, moving into a warrior stance between Mor, Feyre and Nyx, even attempting to urge you behind them, but there was no way you were being forced away from Nyx.

Stepping toe to toe with him, your fingers moved back to cradling his face, forcing his now icey eyes onto you, and for a fraction of a second, he seemed calmer. "Nyx, please listen to me, I'm fine. Everything is ok, it was just-"

You were unable to finish your sentence because his knees buckled, and he audibly gulped down air as all signs of anger and pain disappeared from his eyes and tears lined the edges. "Nyx?"

"Mate", he whispers in awe, leaning his forehead against yours as his arms come around your waist, holding you delicately.

You could feel it, too, like an elastic band was tied around your heart, strengthening with each passing second. "I can feel it too"," you confirmed with glee, tears beginning to fill your eyes with the sudden realisation of what was happening. You and Nyx were mates. The Cauldron had blessed you both; even after waiting what felt like a lifeline for the bond to confirm itself, you both knew it had only been a matter of time. The relief was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before.

"Finally!" Cassian cheered, loosening his warrior stance to return to his glass of wine, raising it towards where you and Nyx stood in the entryway. "Welcome to the family, Little Star!"

You grin up tearfully towards Nyx, who in turn returns the joy, but that all disappears as the anger and rage return full force as he growls, "Someone hurt my mate". Moving away from you, he faces Mor and demands, "Tell me his name, Mor, I know you know it. Don't make me find it out".

Morrigan shifts, rolling her shoulders back as she looks down at Nyx, which is an incredible feat considering the fact that he is considerably taller than her. "Are you threatening me, Nyx??

"He hurt my mate!" he bellows at her, but she doesn't so much as flinch as she shifts her gaze to you, looking like she's contemplating a hundred thoughts at once. Then, without looking away, she confirms the man's name.

"Prumlos".

Nyx vanishes before you have time to stop him, and seconds pass before the ground trembles and shakes the home's foundation. 

"No! I didn't want violence! Why did you tell him, Mor?!" you gawped at the blond, who didn't look remotely sorry.

As Rhysand grabs Cassian and winnows away, Mor steps closer with Feyre at her side. "I told him because we protect our own. Not only has he hurt you, but he's also threatening Emerie; he deserves what's coming to him. In fact, I shouldn't have faltered with telling Nyx, that is my only regret".

You feel defeated and stare at your feet with a thousand thoughts dizzying your mind. Was Nyx ok? Was he hurt? When would he come back? He was your mate. Nyx was YOUR mate.

A pair of brown leather boots entered your vision as Feyre stepped close, wrapping an arm carefully over your not-injured shoulder as she directed you towards the table, kissing your cheek as she moved, "Welcome to the family, properly that is. You've always been one of us, Little Star. Now, why don't you take a seat and I'll see if we have any healing ointments remaining in the cupboards".

Thankfully, Feyre had found a purple ointment that had already worked enough that the pain in your shoulder was considerably less, and the colour of the bruising was now a subtle yellow. Nibbling nervously on the corner of your thumb as you awaited your mate's return, it finally dawned on you. "Wait, how am I supposed to do this? Aren't mates supposed to have a ceremony or something?"

"There can be a ceremony where you offer Nyx some food; we can organise it once we return to Velaris if you'd like? Or if you'd rather not wait, you could offer him food whenever you'd like", Feyre explained warmly with a gentle smile that matched Nyx's.

"I don't think I want to wait. We've all known we would be mates, and waiting for this bond has been slow, so I don't want to wait to accept his bond.

"Why don't you go and have a look in the kitchen? There might be something here", Mor encouraged with a nod towards the back of the house.

You scoured the kitchen cupboards for any sort of food, but with the house having not been in proper use for years, there was nothing except some stale bread on the kitchen table with suspicious-looking green mould on the edges. Even after ripping away the discoloured sections of the bread, you still eyed it with uncertainty.

Stepping out of the kitchen and returning to the dining area, you were surprised to find that Mor and Feyre had gone, and Nyx now stood calmly in the centre of the room, his eyes watching your every breath.

"Where did everyone go?" you ask, trying to fill the thick tension with some noise.

Nyx smiled, not enough to show his dimple but enough to have your shoulders dropping with ease as he stated, "I don't care where they've gone, as long as you remain". Those blazing eyes lowered to your hands as he sucked in a powerful breath as he looked at the stale bread that you were still holding.

As he took several steps forward, you couldn't help but ask, "What did you do to him?"

"What he deserved". There wasn't a speck of blood on his leathery uniform. "What are you doing with that bread?" he asked in a low voice.

You're unsure why you're so nervous when you answer, "Oh, um. It was meant to be for you. I can't find anything else for the mating bond, but it's stale and has mould over it. Maybe I can find a little shop here to find some proper food and serve that to you- NYX!"

Closing the gap between you, he takes the bread out of your hands and, without taking his eyes off of yours, begins to chew the bread that was so clearly dry and stale as he chewed for considerably longer than he should have.

As he finally swallows, you're reaching up for him, resting your hands on his chest and feeling the racing of his heart beneath your palms. "You're my mate", you breathe in awe, forgetting everything that had happened that day and only focusing on the man before you.

"I am. I'm yours, and you're mine", he states with as much wonderment as you felt in your soul.

Grinning up at him, you remind him, "Forever. You're mine forever". The tension beneath your fingers eases as he takes a steadying breath, and then his eyes lower to the edges of your blouse.

You watch with bated breath as he checks the mostly healed bruise. "I'm sorry if I frightened you earlier".

"Nyx, you could never frighten me, " you reassure and tip a finger beneath his chin so that he has to look at your face, not the injury.

"I've always wanted to keep you safe. Seeing that bruise on you today, I was ready to destroy the world to find out who harmed you".

"I know". You watch as he nuzzles into your palm, kissing the centre as you try to lighten the mood, "You're very intense, you know that, right" you say with a light laugh.

Nyx grins, that precious dimple capturing your attention. "I'm more than intense; I'm obsessed. I've been obsessed for years, and now, there's no escaping me" he chuckles as his hand cups around the backs of your thighs and lifts you up, your arms and legs wrapping around his firm body.

"I thought it was just me with the obsession", you retort whilst curling your fingers into his hair once more. Leaning your forehead against him, you both just breathe the other in, eyes closed and hearing the hearts beating as one.

"There hasn't been a second since you entered my life where I haven't wanted you to be by my side. I think I always knew, even when we were children. And now, you're mine".

"Officially", you joke with a giggle, squeezing your arms and legs more firmly around him.

"Officially, my mate", he agrees and then sighs, balancing your weight on one arm so that he could move aside your blouse and kiss the lightening bruise. "I don't want you to come back here again if you can help it. I don't trust these males".

"That's fine with me. I don't particularly want to return, no matter how lovely Emerie's shop is. I don't know how you can stand to be here, let alone train with them", you agreed wholeheartedly.

"You deserve to be in nice and happy places like Velaris, and I can deal with dreadful places like this. It's in my blood, after all". Nyx took a moment to admire your beauty before he stepped forward and winnowed the two of you into his bedroom in the River House in Velaris. "Finally back where we both belong. Now, you're wearing too many clothing articles".

"Wait, don't you have training?" you ask in confusion.

"Not anymore. They'll have to come here and fight me to drag me back to that shit hole tonight. I have other plans now anyway". As he finished talking, he gently eased you onto the navy silk sheets of his bed, resting his arm next to your head as he looked down at you.

You giggle as his hair falls into his face. Reaching up, you pushed the dark curls back to see him grinning at you with just as much glee. "Mmm, I love that sound", he admires before lowering his face to the junction of your neck, his lips pressing against the sensitive area, causing a shiver to burst over your skin.

"What sound?" you ask in a daze.

"You laughing. Your happiness. It's the best sound in the world", he groans as his lips travel up the slope of your neck before teasing your earlobe.

"You're being extra soppy today, Nyx", you say halfheartedly, secretly loving how open he was with his emotions.

However, the man above you freezes, his mouth next to your ear as he asks, "Say that again".

You know exactly which word he wanted you to repeat as you sigh happily, close your eyes and say, "Nyx".

He moans deeply, his hips rutting into the bed with a thrust as a shiver shakes his large frame. "Again," he asks as he lowers his hands to palm your breasts through your blouse.

It was your turn to sigh before whispering, "Nyx".

He lowers his body, kissing down your sternum as he unbuttons the material, exposing your bra and soft skin to him. Your fingers continue to weave through his hair, subtly scratching against his scalp as he doesn't stop on his journey lower. Next, he removes your jeans and socks until all that remains is your underwear.

He appeared to be a man possessed as he stared at you beneath him, biting your lip in need. With an easy snap of his fingers, he tore through the centre of your bra and pushed the useless straps off of your shoulders and down your arms and then repeated the tearing with your underwear.

Nyx utterly admired every inch of your body, his eyes full of emotions and desires. He seemed conflicted, though, unsure whether to spend his sweet time kissing and tasting every inch of your body. Still, as you spread your legs and directed him where you truly wanted him, he growled lowly, lowering his body until he kneeled next to the bed, arms wrapped around your thighs and feasted between your legs.

"Nyx!" you cried out, eyes closing and back arching from the stimulation.

The two of you had been intimate for years, both losing your virginities together and exploring each other's bodies; you knew one another better than yourselves. Nyx liked to show this off as he perfectly flicked his tongue and held you firmly with his hands; you were begging in a matter of seconds. The man bringing you closer and closer to the edge chuckled as he felt you tremble with restraint, knowing he was only doing enough to keep you on the very brink, loving the desperate little cries you released until it was all too much, and you cried out, "Please! Nyx!"

Sucking on your clit was all that he needed to do to have you spiralling into euphoric bliss. Your thighs trembled as they squeezed around his head, but he would happily be suffocated between your legs, so let the warmth of the press into his cheeks until you'd calmed down enough to relax the muscles.

Breathlessly, you looked down your body to where he was grinning, kissing the top of your pubis before licking his shiny lips.

"You're wearing too many clothes". The armour he was wearing vanished in a flicker of magic. Sitting up on the bed, your hands wound around his toned shoulders,  feeling the muscle ripple and move beneath as you tugged him closer and kissed him with all the desperation you could muster.

Both of you were moving with such urgency that your emotions were overwhelmed, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cried out the words, "Mine!" repeatedly. You'd heard of the frenzy after a mating bond is accepted, but you never anticipated it to feel this chaotic. You needed every single inch of him, wanted to taste his body, feel the warmth of his skin, and hear the moans from between his lips. There was too much to do, and your brain was engulfed with the need to do everything simultaneously.

Gripping onto his arms, you pulled Nyx so that he was now the one lying in the centre of the bed as you moved to straddle over his waist. With your lips still desperately moving together, tongue caressing and deepening into each other's mouths, your hands finally grasped around the thick, veiny length of your mate.

During any other intimate moment, you would have admired the sheer size of him or the beautiful sensation of him throbbing between your fingers, but right now, all you were desperate to do was give him pleasure.

Squeezing your fingers more firmly around the shaft, you moved up and down, using your thumb to smear the precum over the head. He shivered at the touch, his abs tightening and flexing as he groaned in pleasure.

"Need to be inside of you", he pleaded against your lips. You didn't need to tell twice as you roused high on your knees and direct the tip of his cock towards your drenched hole. You only gave yourself a second to adjust to the sheer size of him before you were rotating your hips and beginning to rock back and forth with increasing speed.

Nyx's arms wrapped around your spine, reaching to grasp onto the back of your shoulder so he had a good foundation to hold and fuck his hips up in time to meet yours. The firmness of his strokes had you seeing stars with how deep he felt. You were utterly consumed by Nyx.

The two of you were fucking each other with such a bruising pace that all you could do was dig your nails into his chest and ride him like your life depended on it. It was only a matter of minutes until you were coming, squeezing your walls tightly around his cock until he, too, was tipping his head back and grunting your name with his own pleasure.

You all but collapsed on top of his chest, greedily sucking in air that smelled entirely of him, and you couldn't get enough. It seemed he couldn't for you either as you continued to feel his hardness within you, not softening even after his orgasm.

Before long, with your face still plastered to his sweaty chest, your hips began to roll, his cock nudging deep inside of you.

"I can't fucking get enough of you", you gasp as he throbbed within you.

Nyx rolled the two of you over, so now he was on top, your legs repositioned so that they were against his shoulders, and you were all but bent in half, the angle meaning he could fuck even deeper.

"Yes! Nyx, please don't stop!" you scream, reaching over his shoulders and stroking the sensitive membrane of his wings, watching them flare behind his back.

"Say it", he begs, his eyes glazed whilst looking down at you.

"Nyx!"

"Yes! Say you're mine!"

"I'm yours!" Nyx moves harder, his hand slipping down your legs until his thumb could circle your clit.

"That's right", he grunts between thrusts, "And I'm yours. Forever".

You orgasm so hard you're sure you black out for a couple of seconds because, in the next breath, Nyx is beside you, spooning himself around you, kissing along your collarbones and stroking his palm down your stomach.

"I didn't go too hard on you, did I?" he asks with a rough voice.

You smile softly whilst reaching up to scratch your nails behind his ear, tucking the curls behind his pointed ears, careful not to snag the strands on the multiple silver hoops in his ear. "Not at all, I loved every second".

Nyx grinned, and the starlight that usually glowed in his eyes returned for the first time that day, and he was finally at ease.

"I can't believe you ate that stale bread", you say, laughing at the memory.

"I would have eaten the mould too if you'd given it to me. Whatever food you gave me, I would have accepted it with need in my heart". Those perfect lips of his began to kiss across your cheek and down your throat; however, now that the madness of needing to have sex with him had calmed for a moment, you could actually look him over properly, and that's when you noticed the doting of bruises over his arms and chest, all in different stages of healing.

You tense and ask urgently, "Were these from him? Earlier in the day, I mean?"

Nyx moves away from kissing your throat to look at what you're referring to, shaking his head and casually explaining, "No, they're from training. That asshole didn't have time to make a move against me before I-". You'd lost the ability to hear anything further as a fire burned so thoroughly throughout your soul that it momentarily stole your breath. Red burning anger pulsed in your soul, unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

Before a coherent thought could drift through your mind, you're pushing away from Nyx and climbing out of bed on unsteady legs. Needing to half crawl on the floor before righting your posture, you marched towards his bedroom door.

"Woah, Little Star", Nyx is suddenly in front of you, blocking your exit as he holds his hands up.

You try and push past him, but he just carefully eases you away from the door, "Let me past!" you shout in frustration, trying to wiggle past him.

"I don't think so", he responds gently and calmly.

"Nyx, let me out of this house!" You don't get far through as he moves to press your body against the wooden door.

"And what exactly do you think you're going to do?"

Baring your teeth at him over your shoulder, you continued trying to get out of his hold. "I'll kill everyone who harmed you!"

"Oh really?" Nnyx says lightheartedly and with a slight chortle. "You'll kill them? Miss' I despise violence'?"

You turn around so that you're chest to chest with Nyx, looking up at his with eyes so full of fury he actually bulked and softened his laughter. "Whoever hurt you doesn't deserve to live! They hurt you. My mate. MY MATE. They won't live to see the night!"

Nyx wasn't sure how to calm you down, having never seen you with such anger pulsing through your veins before, but he did what he thought was best: distract you. His fingers clutched desperately into your hair as his mouth pressed against yours firmly enough to cause bruises.

You fight and push against him at first, but then thoughts of anger and pain dissolve into lust and need as you're once more desperately grabbing him. Tearing your mouth away, you kiss down his throat, tasting the salty spice of his natural scent.

"These feelings, they will pass", Nyx reassures as he closes his eyes, thoughts entirely on your mouth as you close your lips around his nipple, biting the sensitive bud.

"So you get to have revenge on someone that wrong me, but I don't get to do the same for you?" you ask whilst looking up at him through your lashes, your nails scratching down his abs before grabbing his once more hardening cock.

He releases another long breath, trying to keep his composure as he thrusts into your palm. "I'm saying that I've had a lifetime of training, and taking care of one pathetic asshole was light work. The mating bond is the intense anger you're feeling, protecting my pride. Everything is so new and fresh, but it will pass Little Star. You'll understand that these bruises were all part of my training in a couple of hours. Everyone has similar marks, making the training brutal and volatile. So this feeling, it will pass. Anyway, you are not leaving this room naked with my cum still dripping down my thighs".

You're finally beginning to relax as your harsh touches soften until you're gently cupping his shaft and looking up at him sheepishly, "I thought you would have liked it if everyone got to see who I belonged to?"

Turning on the spot, you rested your hot cheek against the cool wood of the door and began to grind your arse against his cock, "Mmm, don't tempt me", he growls against the side of your face as he moves closer, bending his knees so he could position his cock into your cunt.

Nyx proceeds to fuck you so hard against the door that it begins to crack down the centre. But neither of you stopped for hours. Not until you were both thoroughly exhausted that neither could stand.

"I love you," he whispers against your lips as you teeter on unconsciousness's edge.

"I love you too", you tiredly say back, eyes drooping, and the darkness of sleep welcomed you into its abyss.

[legobiwan]

So this is part of a longer story I've been writing but I kind of want to post this here as it just poured from my brain this evening. This may be...somewhat out of character? I don't know, I'm playing with some ideas here. I have some very specific headcanons regarding Luigi and Mario's upbringing in a 1980s Italian-American section of Brooklyn (my guess would be Bensonhurst) and some of the concepts below reflect that.

Imagine, if you will, another post-SPM scenario where Luigi ups and leaves the Mushroom Kingdom a few weeks after the whole Chaos Heart debacle. Mario finds the following note on his desk the morning after Luigi runs away, folded underneath a small, mechanical Yoshi.

-----

Mario - 

There’s no easy way of saying this, so I guess I’m just going to come right out with it. I’m leaving the Mushroom Kingdom. Or, at this point, have left already, if you’re reading this instead of chasing me down the nearest warp pipe. And in case you’re thinking it (I know you are) - don’t. No, I didn’t use the one by the Toadetta Café, and no, I didn’t use your secret passageway near the Royal Stables, either. Suffice it to say I carry more secrets than you, which include my own ways of getting in and out of the Peach’s realm. (Do you honestly think I would travel the same path twice back to the Evershade Valley when King Boo was on my trail? But maybe you would have. Yeah, you probably would - just saunter right up the well-traveled road, same pipe, same time, same place, daring any ghost to show their face. But you know I’ve never been as brave as you).

It’s not your fault. I know you don’t believe me, but please try to. Whatever it is, it’s not your fault. I’d like to say it’s not mine, either, but the next few weeks, few months will reveal the truth of that statement. 

Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. How your entire face just collapses, how your fingers move back and forth like you’ve still got that old rosary from Saint Michael’s in your hands. I don’t know entirely where this guilt is coming from but...maybe you can say a few Hail Marys tonight? Can't hurt. It might even make you feel better. (Hell, if it gets you to stop wearing your hair shirt all the time, I’ll start saying the damned liturgy myself! And you know how I feel about that).

I won’t be gone forever. Well, I hope I won’t, at least. But what I said last night is still true - I’m not the same person I was before the Chaos Heart, before Mr. L, before…everything that happened. Or what I'm pretty sure happened. I know there’s more to the story, more than what you and Peach and Bowser recounted in your short, clinical descriptions. I know there’s more because I can feel it - not the memories of exact actions, but the imprints of emotions - soft indentations of hatred and malice and a terrible pettiness made all the worse by how familiar it feels.

Do you think it’s really gone, Mario? If he’s really gone? They said the Light Prognosticus was only meant to counteract the Dark, that the Chaos Heart was banished, not destroyed. I’ve spent hours looking in the mirror (no, I’m not that vain), my face pressed into the glass, pulling my eyes open as far as I can, skin and tissue stretching to the point of pain. They’re different now, my eyes, I know you’ve seen that. You always notice the little details, make observations, file away certain specks of information for the future. You’re more cerebral than you’d ever like to let on, bro, but don’t worry - I won’t spoil your secret.

It’s just that…I just can’t shake the idea, the intuition that this isn’t over, that there’s something inside me that’s waiting, that’s gestating in all the little crevices between the atoms in my gut and I can’t risk it. I can’t risk endangering the Mushroom Kingdom, the Mushroom People, Princess Peach, can’t risk Daisy or Peasley, or (God help me for saying this) even E. Gadd and his ethically dubious experiments. 

Most of all, though, I can’t risk endangering you. Not again. Never again. Not like that. 

So, a search for answers. A quest, a mission. (Not an adventure. Not anything even close. It’s only an adventure if you’re with me, you know).

A reckoning, maybe.

I hope I find what I’m looking for. I’m not even sure what I’m looking for, but some movement forward has to be better than sitting around the castle picking at battle scars, right? (It’s not your fault. I know you don’t talk about it, but we fought, that much I’m certain of. Why else would you avoid the topic so thoroughly? What else would I, a brainwashed minion of a man bent on triggering the apocalypse, be sent to do? Anyway, the gigantic robot was kind of a giveaway and Bowser made certain we all heard about that).

I guess that leads me into my last thought. 

Mario, I need a favor from you. A promise. Just one thing, and it’s so simple but I know you’ll make it complicated when it’s really not.

If this goes…wrong, somehow. If the Chaos Heart overtakes me again, if…he digs his dirty, spindly fingers into my brain...

If for any reason I come back…bad…

You’ve got to end it. For everyone’s sake (including my own).

(Honestly, I’m a little surprised you didn’t before. I was trying to push along the end of the world, big bro. The Saints would have and will probably forgive you for that one). 

Don’t try and save me. I’m not even sure I could be saved, not a second time. It’s just like Sister Catherine said in middle school, remember? “Luigi’s strayed beyond the grasp of our Lord.” Never liked that old crone. I guess throwing the Good Book out a window didn’t do me any favors in her eyes (or anyone watching from above, I suppose). But it’s true, in a way. I think I’ve strayed beyond the light of good, have strayed past the forest line and into the shadows. 

I think I may have been there all along. 

I love you, bro. I always will. 

Your fratellino,

Luigi

[seijorhi]

Pretty Young Thing

A yandere Erasermic commission for an anon, I hope you like it bby!!

Aizawa Shouta x reader x Hizashi Yamada

TW non-con, breeding kink, pregnancy, surrogacy, pregnant sex, smut, age-gap, nsfw

“Don’t you think she’s a little young, ‘Zashi?”

“It’s up to you both how involved you are during the first stages and the overall pregnancy. Normally we suggest an initial meeting with the potential surrogate for all three of you to get a feel for one another and decide if you want to proceed with the arrangement, but should you wish, we can–”

“No,” he interrupts, sparing Hizashi a fleeting glance. “We want to meet her.”

Beneath the desk, his husband squeezes his hand. 

Hizashi quirks an eyebrow, pausing midway through fixing his hair in the mirror. “Whaddya mean, babe? She’s in her twenties ain’t she?”

He’s not wrong, but that’s not the issue. They picked you, they both picked you, but there’s this lingering unease that he can’t seem to shake. It’s not so much your age specifically, he knows that you’re only a few years younger than the majority of the other women whose profiles they’d seen – you’re old enough to understand what you’re getting yourself into and agree to it, at any rate – it’s just that he doesn’t quite understand why somebody your age would want to do this.

And there’s something different about you, it’s just a feeling of course – he hasn’t yet had a chance to confirm his suspicions, but he wants to meet you and decide for himself.

“We do have a number of potential surrogates with promising Quirks if you’re considering pursuing that option for your child,” the Doctor told them, smiling as they flipped through page after page of profiles.

Hisako, 35, Quirk: Sun-flare

Nozumi, 26, Quirk: Mimic

Koharu, 28, Quirk: Seismic Wave

Chiyoko, 33, Quirk: Golden Whip

Yuzuki, 32, Quirk: Silencer

There’s dozens of them – which is more than he expected. 

Aizawa knew coming in that this wasn’t normally the process, that this agency catered specifically to Heroes – was recommended by the Hero commission – but it still feels strange, just browsing through pages upon pages of potential candidates to carry their baby. 

Was he supposed to be feeling some kind of emotion looking at these profiles? The women were all healthy, each of them attractive, in their own ways (nothing but the very best, the Doctor had reassured them with a smile). This woman, whoever they picked, she’d be carrying their baby, yes, but that was the extent of it. She wasn’t going to be a part of their lives beyond that, so what did it matter if she was nice or liked to cook or play tennis?

There were stats, of course. Their education and IQ’s and little snippets of history, but they were all impressive, otherwise they wouldn’t have been included. Were they supposed to choose based on their Quirk? One that might compliment his or Zashi’s? Quirks were troublesome things to begin with, and–

“Wait-wait, Shou, hold up,” Hizashi’s voice cut through his musings, long fingers wrapping around his wrist midway through turning the page. “Go back one.”

He does as he’s told, flicking the page back.

Y/N, 23, Quirk: N/A.

A lone eyebrow lifts. Quirkless, huh? A blank slate.

But that’s not what caught Hizashi’s eye.

“She’s kinda cute, don’tcha think, baby?”

It feels weirdly like a first date, nervous jitters and all – though he’d like to believe he’s better at suppressing that now then back when he was a teenager. Aizawa hasn’t bothered to shave, but his hair’s tied back in a loose bun and he’s pulled out a suit for the occasion – he’s even wearing a tie for fuck’s sake. Beside him, Hizashi’s ditched his usual leather jacket and ripped jeans for, well, nicer jeans and a button up floral shirt.

And then there’s you. Standing in the doorway of the cafe glancing around like a little lost lamb, he recognises you instantly from the picture on your profile, but the moment your eyes meet his he’s struck with the realisation that the picture didn’t truly do you justice.

Because you do look young (at least compared to their thirty odd years) and it might just be the hesitant smile adorning your face as you start to make your way over, or the charming little summer dress falling to your mid-thigh, swishing hypnotically with every step, but Shouta feels something catch in his chest the more he stares. You really are… what was the word ‘Zashi had used? Cute?

Yeah. You were cute. 

The agency had offered to host this little meetup at their clinic, and while he hadn’t particularly cared one way or the other, Hizashi’d been insistent. He’d wanted this to feel ‘natural’. 

‘I don’t really wanna meet our potential baby mama for the first time in some boring, sterile office, d’you?”

He’d only bitten back a sigh at the time, shaking his head. It wouldn’t have been worth upsetting him by reminding him that the girl was technically a glorified incubator. He had every intention of being involved in this process, but this initial meeting was to establish two things. Firstly, that after meeting them, you still felt comfortable with carrying their baby, and secondly, he wanted to make absolutely certain that you weren’t trying to get anything out of this.

Oh, he knew you were getting paid, handsomely, he’s sure, but the thought that you, or any of the women the agency had fobbed their way might not all be in this for altruistic reasons had crossed his mind. 

You were just so young.

But he was more than happy to determine those two things in a ten minute meeting at the agency. 

Hizashi was not, and so here they are. 

Ten minutes in, and he finds himself glad of his husband’s insistence. Hands wrapped around your mug of coffee (you should enjoy it while you can) you chatter away with Hizashi, beaming and blushing, tripping over your own words in your nervousness. 

You’re about as dangerous as a kitten, and he allows himself to relax enough in his seat to enjoy watching the blonde charm you. 

“So why don’t ya tell us a little about yourself, songbird?”

“There’s really not all that much to tell,” you say with a sheepish laugh, but they listen as you talk anyway. It’s nothing the profile hadn’t already told them, nothing spectacular that would make you stand out in the crowd. 

And yet, an hour and a half later, you’re trying in vain to distract him and Hizashi both so that you can slip your card in with the bill to pay for lunch, and Shouta finds himself oddly amused.

There were other candidates – ones with impressive Quirks, smarter than you, more accomplished than you, older than you–

“Ya sure you don’t want a lift, sweetheart? It’s no trouble.”

You smile again, demure little thing, and shake your head. “Oh no, really it’s okay. It’s not far and… I like the walk. Thank you, though.”

– but none nearly so endearing, he thinks. 

And when they watch you disappear into the crowd, one final wave thrown over your shoulder, Hizashi’s fingers lace with his once more.

“So she’s our baby mama, huh?

He’s silent for a moment. “I suppose so.”

—

The agency recommended, at least in the initial stages before the implantation procedure took place, that any communication between the three of you should go through them. 

Hizashi had your number programmed into his phone before you’d even left the cafe, and he’s been texting you every day since – to the point where it wasn’t unusual for Shouta to come downstairs and find Mic chuckling to himself, fingers dancing across the keyboard on his phone as he replies to whatever message you’ve sent. 

Shouta, for his part, tends to message only to check in.

How are you feeling? Any side effects from the meds?

Your response comes a little slower than usual, and it’s almost an hour before finally he receives it.

Sorry they’re cracking down on us using our phones at work :( 

Everything’s good so far! The doc said i should be on track for our appointment next week!

… is it weird that I’m a little excited haha?

His brow furrows at that. You hadn’t mentioned a job – at least not to him, he’d have to ask Hizashi later whether you'd said anything to him. 

Why on earth were you still working? He’d seen the contracts, he knew exactly how much you were getting paid for this little venture, wasn’t that enough to support you?

He makes a brief mental note to make sure that whatever job you were working at, you stopped long before the baby was due. You might just be a surrogate, but he’d be damned if his baby was put in jeopardy because you were needlessly exerting yourself. 

Nevertheless, his expression softens somewhat as he reads the second part of your message. You were excited, hm? 

Well, that made three of you.

Both he and Hizashi’d been willing to come along to the clinic with you – he’d even submitted a formal leave request to take the day off from UA, but the Doctor had assured him that it wasn’t necessary.

“The procedure is quick and relatively painless. She’ll be home within a few hours, and so long as she remains off her feet and doesn’t undertake any strenuous activity, she will be perfectly fine.”

It hadn’t sat particularly well with Hizashi who’d spent the afternoon huffing and complaining about the clinic trying to kick them both out of the process. That much, he expected – he understood it to an extent; the agency catered specifically to Heroes, most of their clientele probably had busy schedules (which was true in their case as well). There wasn’t a need for them to be present at such a minor procedure, even if it did hopefully mark the beginnings of your pregnancy. 

What he hadn’t expected was the twinge of discontent he felt settle in his own stomach. The Doc might’ve preferred they stay out of this, but at the end of the day he really didn’t give a shit what she or the agency wanted.

So he messaged you.

Do you want us there with you?

He watches those three little dots bounce for almost a solid minute before finally your reply comes through.

No, it’s okay, you don’t have to come. The Doc said it wouldn’t take long and I don’t wanna be a burden for you guys

It’s not really an answer to his question, and he briefly wonders if Hizashi might be right about the agency interfering, but he’s not going to fight you on it. 

At least, that’s his plan until Principal Nezu pulls him aside at the end of a staff meeting and tells him that he’s found somebody to cover his classes tomorrow if he still wants the day off. 

“Ya gotta go, babe. One of us should be there for our ‘lil mama.”

He asks you what time your appointment is and there’s a surprisingly pleasant fluttering in his stomach when you walk through the clinic doors and catch sight of him sitting in the waiting room.

It’s a momentary surprise – you almost do a double take, but a smile lights your face and you ignore the receptionist in favour of racing towards him. 

“Shouta, I thought you weren’t coming!” Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing tightly.

He finds himself returning your hug – albeit somewhat stiffly – but he’s glad he made the decision to come. The Doctor wasn’t wrong, you’re only in with her for just under twenty minutes, and when you come out there’s a tremble in your legs, but you seem otherwise fine.

It goes without saying that he’s driving you home, though you try once again to beg him off.

Kitten, when are you gonna learn that so long as you’re carrying his and ‘Zashi’s child, they’re going to go out of their way to make things easier for you – whether you want them to or not.

Yet your quiet discomfort on the drive home doesn’t slip past his attention. Maybe it’s because he’s become accustomed to your nervous rambling, but there’s something odd about the way you’re sitting so quietly, fingers twisting in your lap as you stare out the window. He knows that if Hizashi was here, he’d be chatting your ear off, but he’s never been one to fill silence with unnecessary small talk.

Though he can’t exactly help the way his own mind drifts. Are you in pain? The Doc didn’t say anything about there being any pain, only that you should rest over the next few days, so it shouldn’t be that. Perhaps you’re just lost in your thoughts – it’s strange for them having a surrogate, he can only imagine what’s going through your own head now that it’s actually begun. He hopes that you aren’t having second thoughts, almost opens his mouth to ask before thinking better of it.

You’re entitled to your thoughts and feelings, whatever they may be, and if you wanted to talk to him about them, you would. 

It’s not until the scenery outside starts to change and the fancy sky-scrapers give way to dingy apartment blocks and dilapidated buildings, crammed in together too tightly that he realises that it’s not discomfort that’s written across your face, but embarrassment.

This was your neighbourhood?

Shouta recognises it, and really he should have picked up on it earlier when you’d given him the address – he’s spent more than a few nights patrolling the area. It’s a hotspot, not for the high-class, dangerous villains plastered across the news every night, but thieves and murderers. Petty thugs who prey on the weak, those addicted, with nowhere else to go… you live here?

Surely with the money you’re getting from the agency, and your job on top of that, you can afford a better neighbourhood.

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, watches as you all but shrink into your seat, and when you speak, your voice is little more than a whisper.

“You can just drop me off at the corner here.”

He pulls the car to a stop by the curb, and for a moment neither of you speak. He doesn’t know what to say, and judging from the way you’re nibbling on your bottom lip and glancing up at him, you don’t either. 

“I–”

“Thank you,” you cut him off with a tight smile. “For coming today, and for… this. I-I really do appreciate it.” 

The words aren’t quite sincere, but he only nods – noting the miniscule sigh that escapes your lips at the action. “Of course. Anytime you need us, just call, okay.” He waits for you to nod before continuing, “Do as the Doc said, rest.”

You all but scamper from the car after saying another goodbye, though Shouta waits until you’ve disappeared into the crumbling apartment block before driving off.

Maybe the inside is nicer, but he sincerely doubts it.

—

“You should’ve seen it, ‘Zashi.” The two of them are curled up on the love-seat, half empty containers of takeout littering the coffee table in front of them. “I just can’t figure out why she’d be living somewhere like that.” 

The blonde frowns. He’d been messaging you throughout the afternoon, so he knew that the appointment had gone fine. It wasn’t that he expected to come home and find the erasure Hero jumping for joy, but the subtle discontent on Shouta’s face had been enough to make him pause. 

“You’re worried about our ‘lil songbird?” he asks, pushing away just enough so that he could turn to study his face. 

The short nod says plenty. Of course he is – even if you weren’t potentially carrying his child, you’re young, beautiful and far too innocent for your own good. In places like that, you were easy pickings, and you don’t even have a Quirk to protect yourself. His job requires him to assess his students’ strengths, their failings and weaknesses and their progress. He doesn’t need to see you in action to know that you wouldn’t be able to hold your own in a fight. 

It bothers him. 

“She’s not safe there.”

Hizashi hums, but instead of settling back against his husband’s side, he straightens up further. “Well, why don’t we go take a look-see, huh handsome? Make sure our sweet thing’s pad’s all safe ‘n sound, put your mind at ease. Whaddya say?”

As he stares into those imploring green eyes, Shouta knows that he should say no. 

Concerned or not, there’s still a line, privacy that should be respected. He’s tired and this is the only night that they both have off this week. Your place is almost twenty minutes from theirs, and it’s already late – almost midnight. The list goes on, there are a thousand reasons that he should say no.

“Fine. Just for tonight.”

—

Two weeks later, the two Heroes receive a call from the agency; the blood test came back positive – you’re pregnant. 

In the blink of an eye, at least to Shouta, this becomes startlingly real. You’re pregnant. They’re going to have a baby. Boy, girl, it doesn’t matter… You’re pregnant, and as his husband ends the call and yanks him by his collar into a fierce kiss, he realises how important this is.

How important you are, just by the virtue of carrying their baby.

They invite you over for dinner to celebrate, and while he’s never been one to flaunt the comfortable lifestyle he and Hizashi have, he does find it strangely pleasing to watch you wonder wide eyed through their apartment. He’d be the first to admit it’s big – bigger than they’d ever probably need, though with the baby on the way maybe they’ll finally be able to make use of all that extra space.

Mic grabs you by the hand, eagerly dragging you towards the nursery he’s already begun setting up. “Once I heard the good news, I just couldn’t wait to get started! Our little rockstar’s gonna have the sweetest crib, don’tcha think? Ain’t it amazing?” 

He’s already started painting and there’s a wooden cot halfway assembled and the beginnings of a musical mobile pushed off to the side waiting for him to return to it. It’s hardly close to being finished, but you just grin, gazing at the mural he’s started on the walls. “It’s amazing,” you say.

“I knew ya’d like it!” he beams.

Shouta hangs back as Hizashi guides you through the rest of the apartment, chattering excitedly away. He likes seeing his husband happy, and somehow you manage to bring it out of him without even trying. It’s still early days but Shouta has to admit that already you’re more to him and Hizashi than he expected, or even anticipated. You fit well with them, seamlessly, as if you’d always been a part of their lives.

After dinner, they drive you home despite your protests, and Hizashi insists they walk you up to your apartment. You’re no doubt under the impression that they’re doing it to be gentlemanly, missing the shared looks between the two men as they pass the out of order elevator and tread down hallways with stained carpet and peeling wallpaper, ignoring the leering yellow eyes of your neighbour, peeking out from the crack in the doorway as they bid you goodnight, ‘Zashi squeezing you extra tight.

There’s an uncharacteristic hardness in his husband’s eyes as they both slip back into the car, “No way in hell are we lettin’ her stay here.”

On that at least, there’s no arguments from him.

—

Hizashi, unsurprisingly, is the one to bring it up.

The three of you are grabbing a bite to eat after your first ultrasound. This time, both of them had been insistent on being there, and he’s glad they were. Seeing that grainy image of their baby, hearing it’s heartbeat – strong and steady – had filled him with an emotion he’d never felt before.

It was happiness and excitement and wonder and awe all mixed up and wrapped into a gut punch that stole his breath away, and while Hizashi had burst into a loud fit of tears, burying his face in Shouta’s neck while reaching for your hand, he’d managed to keep his own at bay.

Mostly. 

Regardless, you have little choice but to indulge them when they drag you out to one of the blonde’s favourite restaurants – on the proviso that they had you home in time to get ready for work.

“Songbird, there’s something the two of us have been meanin’ to ask ya.”

You perk up a little, hastily swallowing down your mouthful of food so you can reply, “Oh?”

He wonders if you notice the way your hand already instinctively drifts to your stomach, your barely there baby bump. 

“Why’re ya livin’ in a place like that, sweetheart?” You freeze, the corners of your smile slipping, but Hizashi continues, “Ain’t the money from the agency enough? We know you’re working that other job as well… we just…”

Shouta can physically feel you tensing like a bunny caught in a trap, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to reach out, sliding a hand across the table as you pale, but you take it regardless. 

“Talk to us. Please,” he begs. “We just want to understand what’s going on. You have to realise that it’s not exactly a safe neighbourhood, and it’s not just you we have to worry about anymore.” Dark eyes flicker pointedly towards your stomach. 

It’s a dirty tactic, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the truth. Did you realise how much danger you were truly in? Not just from the common street thugs – though frankly he thinks it’s nothing short of a miracle that you’d managed to get this far unscathed – but any number of villains with a grudge against either one of them, or Heroes in general. If they found out a pretty, quirkless thing like you was carrying their baby, how long do you think it would take before they tracked you down and kicked through your door?

Your eyes flicker between the two of them, and you swallow shakily. “I-it’s…” you break off, taking a deep, steadying breath, “It’s all I can afford right now.”

“But, hun, what about–”

“I know,” you say. “The money for the surrogacy isn’t for me. It’s money I owe.”

Neither Hero speaks a word as you talk, telling them about your uncle, the man who raised you, how his business went under a few years back and you both lost almost everything.

Shouta isn’t surprised to find out that your uncle turned to loan sharks when the banks turned him away and threatened to take your house. Alarmed at the man’s blatant stupidity, yes, but not surprised. Your eyes start to water when you tell them about how he died a few months back – a hit and run –  and the visit you were paid only a week later, informing you that your uncle’s debts were now yours, and payment had better come through quick. 

Your hand’s trembling in his by the time you finish. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t have any options, I didn’t know how else to get the money, and they said that i-if I didn’t pay up, they-they’d–” a sob catches you unawares, and once again it’s Hizashi who’s out of his seat and at your side in a heartbeat, sliding into the booth beside you, pulling you into a one armed embrace. 

It’s his eyes that you meet, and Shouta understands. He doesn’t need you to explain what threats were made. You were scared, terrified probably, and you had every right to be. 

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you sniffle. “I’m sorry for lying to you.”

Really, he should be furious. Disappointed at the very least. 

“Move in with us,” he says instead, ignoring your sudden, startled intake of breath. “At least until the baby comes.”

He should be, but this works better.

—

It takes a little longer than he’d like to convince you, but the two of them wear you down and a few weeks later Shouta finds himself carting boxes of your things up into the spare room in their apartment.

Despite the fact that you’re pregnant with their baby, you’re terrified of being a burden to the two Heroes, but it’s because of the baby that you eventually relent.

They want to be close, involved. They want to know that you’re safe – and their apartment’s state of the art security system will make sure of that when they’re not home with you. They want to make sure that you’re not exerting yourself, that you’re eating the right things and not running yourself ragged at a job you don’t need, stressing yourself out needlessly and putting the baby at risk.

All of that’s true. 

It’s just not the entire reason. 

At first, he convinces himself that it’s for Hizashi, as well as his own peace of mind, but he’s starting to wonder if that’s the full truth of it. Because of course he wants to keep a close eye on the pregnancy – he knows that this can’t be easy on you. You have no family left, and if you have any friends then they’ve done an excellent job of keeping you at arm's length. 

You have nobody but them, and it does bring him some modicum of peace to know that you’re just down the hall if anything goes wrong. 

Hizashi adores having you there with them, having somebody else to cook for, somebody to come home to at the end of a long day. More than a few times, they’ve both returned from a night of patrolling to find you curled up on the couch, fast asleep with a blanket over your legs and a book slipping from your fingers, having tried, and failed, to wait up from them.

You tune into Mic’s radio show on the nights you can’t sleep, and on the odd mornings that you wake up before either of them, they come downstairs to find bacon sizzling away in the pan, a pot of coffee already brewing. There’s something oddly charming about the way you pout while you pour it for them, knowing you can’t have any yourself.

“You’re a special kind of masochist, ya know?” Hizashi teases, sidling up beside you to grab a cup.

You sigh dejectedly. “I must be,” you reply as he plants a kiss on your cheek and squeezes your side affectionately, but it’s impossible to miss the sparkle in your eyes. You’re happy here, with them. 

Shouta warns you from pushing yourself too much, but even he can notice the apartment’s tidier when they arrive home than when they left, the freshly baked goods sitting on the countertop that weren’t there yesterday.

“I just… I know I can’t pay you back for all of this, I just wanna make myself useful,” you tell him one night when he asks about it. “I still feel like I’m taking advantage of the both of you, staying here…”

“You’re carrying our baby, that’s enough,” he reminds you, his calm, steady voice brooking no disagreement. And yet, as dark eyes study your face, he can tell that it’s not enough for you, so he sighs, and in a quiet voice adds, “We like having you here.”

He likes having you there. Sitting at the dining room table, helping him grade papers, lounging around on their rare days off together – helping Mic set up the nursery, volunteering to go shopping with them for baby stuff. He’s lost count of how many pregnancy books you’ve bought, pouring over them with a fine tooth comb late at night – often falling asleep in the process, leaving him and Hizashi to carry you off to bed with a barely there kiss to your forehead.

You fit between them in a way he hadn’t quite expected. Not a burden, not an interloper, but as if there was always a place carved out for you with them, and it’s only now that they realise that there was something missing to begin with. 

It doesn’t quite click until he finds his thoughts drifting towards you at work, his fingers drumming along the top of his desk so he can stop himself from reaching for his phone. He’s not usually so distracted teaching, and as the hours drag he finds himself glancing towards the clock on the wall, counting down the hours, minutes, until the day is done and they can return home to you.

Shouta can’t pretend for much longer that there isn’t something oddly satisfying watching your belly grow and your breasts swell as your pregnancy goes on. You’re glowing, and soft and beautiful, and he could kid himself and say that it’s just the normal effects of pregnancy, but there’s some part of him that’s strangely proud when your shirt rides up and he catches a glimpse of your baby bump – knowing it’s his child you’re carrying. His and ‘Zashi’s and yours.

And oh, he wishes that it was only pride that burns through his veins at the sight of you, barefoot and pregnant, pottering around the apartment. Hizashi’s the one to hold back your hair and rub your back soothingly when your morning sickness hits, but it’s Shouta who takes care of you when you start complaining about aching muscles and joints.

He tells himself that it’s purely about comfort, namely yours, ignoring the way you flush and stutter when he drags you up the stairs and pushes you gently towards the bed, telling you to lie down on your side. 

It’s just a massage, yet the moment his fingers run along your soft skin and a breathy moan slips from parted lips, the very last vestiges of the facade he’d built up in his head crumble into dust. 

You’re perfection. Bared and beautiful beneath him, making the prettiest noises for him as he works away at your muscles, expertly releasing all of your tension. He’s glad that your eyes are shut and you’re lost to the bliss, you don’t notice the way his breath hitches and becomes rough and heavy, the way his cock twitches in his sweats, blood flowing south as you arc into his touch. 

Such a responsive little thing, aren’t you?

“You’re amazing,” you moan, and though you can’t see that either, Shouta smirks. “Please never stop.”

It’s a good thing he has restraint, because it’s taking absolutely all of his to stop himself from taking more. 

He wants all of you. 

Wants to tease and taste.

Take.

Wants to hear those pretty fucking moans take the shape of his name… Hizashi’s name.

And maybe he might have felt guilty for those perverse thoughts, for the way he wants to tear the rest of your clothes off and fuck you nice and proper, breed you–

If his husband hadn't been standing by the door, watching the two of you for the last ten minutes. Shouta doesn’t need to look to know that it’s not anger or jealousy burning in his gaze.

He knows that his husband’s far from disgusted, knows it from the way Hizashi grabs his wrist on his way back down the hallway, pulling him instead to their bedroom and shoving him back onto the mattress with a wicked grin.

There’s something positively feral in the blonde’s expression as he hovers over him, forcing Shouta back down with a hand splayed across his chest, the other reaching down to his sweats to free his aching, needy cock.

“You’ve been holding out on me, baby,” he sings.

—

They have time.

Your due date is still months away, and you’re comfortable, here with them. 

There’s no reason for you to consider leaving until the baby’s born, and Shouta is adamant about keeping it that way. Hizashi can huff and puff and moan all he likes, he knows that they have to take this thing with you slowly. He won’t risk spooking you and losing any chance they have.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t empathise with the blonde, what with all the affectionate hugs and touches you thoughtlessly bestow, the way you’ll plonk yourself down on the couch between them so they can feel when the baby’s kicking.

Hizashi’s gotten to the stage where he’ll drop to his knees to shower your stomach in kisses when he gets home of an evening before sweeping you up into a hug of your own, his face a mask of perfect innocence when he catches sight of his husband’s less than impressed expression over your shoulder. 

Having you here with them, this little temporary faux family dynamic the three of you have found yourselves in is easy, domestic and nice. It should be enough, but it’s not.

“It’ll be weird, going home after this,” you hum absentmindedly one night.

Preoccupied with the noodles you’re toying with in your bowl, you miss the sharp look shared between both men.

“Whaddya mean, sweetheart?”

If you notice the odd stiffness to the words, you pay it no mind, simply shrugging. “I mean once the baby’s born. I dunno, I think I’ve become too comfortable here freeloading off of the two of you…” you glance up, smiling a little. “Going back to work and finding a place on my own again, starting fresh, it’ll be different, that’s all. Not bad different,” you hasten to clarify at the blonde’s nearly stricken face, “just… different.”

“Well it’s not like we’re gonna be forcing ya out, hun! You’re always welcome to jam with us for as long as you want.”

You shake your head with a rueful little laugh, “We both know I can’t do that. You’ll have the baby to worry about and the last thing I want is to feel like some awkward interloper, always getting in the way – especially after everything you guys have done for me.”

Hizashi’s fingers dig into the meat of his thigh, tightening with every word out of your mouth.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not saying I’m never going to come around to hang out or anything, but once this baby comes I’m gonna have to figure out what I’m going to do with my life.” Your eyes meet his, wide and hopeful, and Shouta’s reminded once again of just how young you really are. “I can go anywhere, do anything. It’s kind of exciting, don't you think?”

It was a mistake, to think that you’d come around to them on your own. 

You were young and naive, still living out a rose tinted fantasy where the world was your oyster and all you needed to do was reach out and take it. And maybe he’s partially to blame for that, taking your problems and getting rid of them, making you feel safe and comfortable, not realising that that security didn’t extend outside of these four walls, outside of their protection.

They need you, but kitten did you ever stop to think that you need them, too? 

Shouta had made the mistake of forgetting how this all came to be – you hadn’t wanted a family, you were just trying to save your own skin. You still think that you can make it on your own, without them. 

He supposes he shouldn’t blame you for your misplaced idealism, it’s only natural after all. Some people just don’t know what’s best for them.

They need to be shown.

—

You don’t stir as your bedroom door swings open. 

Not as Hizashi pulls back your sheets, groaning softly at the sight of your swollen breasts and precious baby bump, stretching against the confines of your silk pajamas. “Ain’t she a fuckin’ dream, Shou?”

Not as the blonde busies himself in carefully sliding your sleep shorts down your legs, or even as Aizawa gathers up your wrists, pressing a kiss to each one, and binds them to the headboard with his capture weapon.

“Gentle, ‘Zashi,” he murmurs when the blonde crawls up on the bed beside you. “Nothing too rough.”

You wake as long fingers caress your cheek, tilting your face towards him so he can kiss you properly.

Shouta hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, but bathed under the soft glow of moonlight from your window, he watches your eyes flutter open, the momentary confusion that flashes across your face followed by realisation, horror, as you try to jerk back and cry out–

Only Hizashi doesn’t give you the opportunity, winding his hand through your tresses and anchoring you against him, forcing your lips open so that he can deepen the kiss and groaning appreciatively when a terrified whimper escapes you. 

You still haven’t noticed Shouta kneeling on the bed between your legs, too preoccupied by Hizashi’s tongue sliding against yours. “Relax, kitten,” he says, laying his palm on your thigh, letting his thumb glide over the smooth skin.

“Let us take care of our cute ‘lil baby mama, yeah songbird?” Hizashi adds, breaking away from the kiss with a lovesick grin.

Tonight is solely about you. Your pleasure, whether they have to tease it from you willingly or not.

Your tears are kissed away, your broken little pleas swallowed under ‘Zashi’s greedy lips as Shouta shuffles down the bed, nudging your thighs further apart so he can lie between them.

The keening cry that leaves you at the first stroke of his tongue against your warm sex is a thing of beauty.

Blood rushes to his cock as you writhe, and he tightens his grip as much as he dares to keep you locked in place as he delves in again. There’s little finesse to the way that Shouta eats your pussy – it’s a simple study of reactions; the way you gasp and shudder when the tip of his tongue circles your clit, the way your pussy clench and quiver around the muscle when he eases it inside of you, massaging your spongy walls.

Never one to be left out, Hizashi decides that there’s a better use of his attention than just your lips. With your arms bound, he’s not able to take your top off entirely so he settles with yanking it down, freeing your breasts.

“Fuck baby, you’re so pretty. Look atcha!”

Your tits must be tender and aching, because the moment Hizashi’s mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking at the pert nub, a fresh sob bursts from your lungs and you’re trying desperately to wriggle away.

Hizashi just frowns, breaking away for a second to brush a stray lock of hair back behind your ear, “Ah shit, sorry babe! I’ll be gentle, promise.”

Shouta’s far too preoccupied by the intoxicating taste of your sweet cunt to notice whether he actually does or not, but he trusts him not to push you too far. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

Your baby bump is cute and all, but Shouta wishes that it wasn’t blocking his view of your face – he wants to watch every little expression as he slides two thick fingers into your dripping cunt and your hips buck up to meet him. It’s a twisted kind of pride he feels, pride fused with filthy, maddening pleasure as he pulls a string of choked moans from you with just a few shallow thrusts of his fingers.

His jaw’s slicked with your juices, your cunt sucking his fingers deeper when he turns his attention back to your poor, neglected clit. He can tell that you’re close, not just from the needy whimpers and the way your muscles are tensing beneath him, but the desperate canting of your hips, rocking up against his face even as you beg for relief.

“Shouta, Shouta, please– oh god, please stop, p-please!”

He longs to wrap a fist around his throbbing cock, desperate to help relieve the burning ache deep in his gut as you cum for the first time on his tongue. Or better yet, maybe have Hizashi wrap that perfect mouth of his around his cock and suck him off–

But now’s not the time for him to be greedy. 

Rough fingertips prod at your walls, searching for that hidden little spot that’s gonna make you go wild–

You almost convulse when he finds it, and Shouta can’t help but smirk against your cunt as you tighten and quiver around his digits. With Hizashi playing with your tits, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along your neck, Shouta’s lips wrapped around your clit, tongue flicking at the sensitive pearl as he suckles on it and long, thick fingers driving you to madness with each and every stroke, it’s too much for your poor, pregnant, oversensitive body to handle.

You cum with a strangled shriek, and Shouta almost moans at the flood of juices that gush from your trembling cunt onto his waiting tongue. 

“How’s she taste, baby?” Hizashi asks, green eyes blown wide, his own erection straining against his leather pants. 

Shouta doesn’t waste a beat, pushing himself up with one arm and grabbing his husband’s wrist with the other, yanking him into a fierce kiss – letting him taste your honeyed juices on his tongue.

Fingers tangle in dark locks, tugging him closer, and ‘Zashi lets out a low, throaty groan. It’s rough and eager, a slow burning frenzy that makes the blood in his veins sing with excitement. With their lips still locked, the blonde hastily yanks at the zipper on his pants, freeing the painfully hard member with a tight hiss. 

But when he finally does break for air, it’s not Shouta that he addresses, but you, lying spent, crying and breathless between them, beautiful in your fucked out state.

“You can’t expect to put on a show like that and not get me all worked up, sweet thing,” he coos, taking his flushed, throbbing cock in hand and giving it a few slow, cursory pumps. “I’m gonna fuck ya so good, baby – have you singin’ like a little birdie for me,” his eyes meet Shouta’s, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “Nothin’ but the best for our cute ‘lil wife. Whaddya say, songbird? Lemme make you feel all nice and special, yeah?”

[cdroloisms]

TW; Death mentioned

I had this thought, I was watching the Hunchback of Notre Dame and remember in the beginning where the Gypsy mother ran to the church and claimed sanctuary, but she died on the church steps

What if c!Dream either was let out of the prison or escaped and c!sam chased him down (for whatever reason you want) and Dream runs to church prime in the Holy Land, claiming sanctuary, and maybe Sam accidentally kills Dream on that land in front of the church

this was a FUN ask, anon, sorry it took so long for me to get to it

tw: DEATH, DEREALIZATION, religious themes, blood, grief, vomit, murder, violence, implied torture/abuse, dark themes, dark content, prison arc/pandora’s vault

To be honest, when George opens his eyes, he has no idea if he’s awake or not.

This has become an...alarmingly common occurrence. He’d been bothered by it at the beginning, had spent hours stuck in his own head, dropping and picking up items, counting forwards and backwards, seeking any sign possible that what he was looking at was real and not just a figment of his own dreams. In the end, it’d all been for nothing; he would be 100% sure in reality, that what he was looking at was the real world, only for it to dissolve into shadow and himself back to lying on that same bed in the middle of nowhere that he’d never remembered lying down in. At some point, he must’ve just...given up. It’s not like the dreams were unpleasant; they were the exact opposite, most of the time. Unlike that one reality-bending fit of wakefulness that had ended in him boxed in by lava in the middle of a chamber of red, one that wasn’t a dream, surprisingly enough, his dreams are usually just- normal. He goes to his field, harvests some wheat. Talks to Quackity and Sapnap and Karl, though he’s almost certain he’s not talked to any of the three in a long time in the waking world. Sometimes, he’ll even be visited by a god wearing Dream’s face, XD, though sometimes XD is there in the real world, too, so they’re hardly a determining factor. If he’s really lucky, in the dreams, he’ll even see Dream.

Dream, as he remembers him, not as the monster he’s been told he became. Once, the dream had even dropped in the flustered, confused form of Dream from the beginning of the server, all fluffed up hair and boyish joy. Usually, he’ll see a Dream that’s been let out the prison, hale and whole and sheepish, stuttering through brief apologies and hugging him in that overeager way that makes his ribs ache and then the three of them, for the lack of better words, prance off into the sunset without a worry in their minds.

And then he wakes up.

George rubs at his eyes, looks up at the sky to reorient himself; it looks real. It feels real. The sun is warm on his skin, the grass still wet with dew from the morning, brushing against his ankles as he stands up. He’s in the area behind Punz’s house, his walls and towers looming in front of him, and George blows a breath through his teeth as he goes towards the direction of the Prime Path. There’s no knowing if this is a dream or reality, but either way, standing in one place does nothing for him. Better to get the rest of the day over with than to waste it here.

He’s not even halfway to the Prime Path when sirens sound on the horizon, giving him pause. That’s never happened before. They’re loud, and shrill, and something niggles at the back of his head in a vague sense of familiarity, begging for him to understand and take note. He frowns, and picks up the pace- if he gets on the Path, he might get a better idea of what’s going on. At the very least, if there’s something dangerous, his best bet is the Holy Land.

Surprisingly enough, when he gets there, there doesn’t seem to be anyone around, only the consistent drone of sirens on the horizon. George strains his eyes along both sides of the path; nobody comes, or speaks, or makes their presence known. There’s only George, alone. It’s strangely eerie.

Is this a dream? he considers briefly, before shaking his head. It doesn’t matter.

It’s another several minutes before anything changes. He stands there, at the edge of the Holy Land, until he hears a faint clamor that draws his attention, prompts him to edge forward along the path. The sound, starting faint, quickly swells in volume, underscored by the hum of the siren still ringing in the distance.

First come the shouts, overlapping, too muffled for George to quite pick the words out between the sounds. Then come the footsteps, low and rumbling, making the path creak and shudder. Then-

“Get him!”

George watches, eyes wide behind his goggles, as a dull orange blur reaches the crest of the hill and stumbles down it in a dead sprint, not paying him a second glance as they swing under the arched entrance to the Holy Land to enter within it. They collapse into a heap on the quartz steps- and oh, that’s blood seeping out of them, staining the white red, their hands tight on the stairs as a shivering string of sounds leave their crimson-speckled lips. Their face turns towards him, unseeing, and George feels something splinter, irreparably, in his chest, because that’s Dream.

He’s dreamed about Dream a lot, but never like this. Never injured, like this, face hollow and haunted, scars splitting his skin into shards. The wheezes in his dreams had always been from laughter, not this seething, spitting rattle that emerges from his chest, worryingly wet and irregular. He’s collapsed on the bottom steps of Church Prime, legs bent strangely in a way that must be uncomfortable against the ground, arms resting against the edges of the stairs, all skin and bone and still-bleeding cuts, and he looks like he’ll never be able to stand up again.

“Please, please, pl-please,” he stutters through his sobs, meaningless begs and platitudes falling on George’s ears and making him cringe back at the sound, “please-” and George doesn’t quite know what he’s begging for, doesn’t know what has left his friend in a ruin on the ground, leaving bloodstains on the stone, but the words worm under his skin and into his skull and refuse to leave. Footsteps continue to pound on the path behind him; George turns around, gasps at the sight of two figures, fully in enchanted netherite, thundering over the wood and into the Holy Land.

“What-”

“There!” The voice is rough but familiar, and the figures dash over to where Dream is lying, defenseless. His pleads rise in pitch and volume, becoming almost unbearable to listen to, and there’s an angry clamor of voices and an awful, wet crack and a shrill scream-

Silence.

“Holy fuck-” George’s head is spinning, the voice finally registering- that’s Quackity, stance wide, a sword in his hand. Beside him, tall and imposing, stands Sam, his full set of Warden armor shining brilliantly under the still-rising sun. His hands are wrapped around his trident, gleaming cyan, the end speared straight through Dream’s chest.

“You killed him,” Quackity hisses, head raising and only then meeting George’s eyes. “Sam- what are we going to- you killed him.”

“I-” Sam shakes his head. “I had to, he was going to get away-”

“Sam-” Quackity’s voice pitches higher, more desperate, “Sam, did you- oh fuck, we’re in the Holy Land-”

The air shatters.

That, at least, seems to be the only way to describe what happens; George watches, breathless, as the air shimmers and warps unnaturally, the way his dreams do right before he wakes up, only centralized in the Church entrance instead of surrounding him on all sides. Blood continues to run down the stairs, stark against the pure white of the quartz, so dark it almost seems black. The ripple clarifies, deepens; there’s a sound like ripping fabric, and something carves a tear through what seems to be existence itself. Behind, there’s a starless void, alluring, wanting, calling, dark and deep and everlasting and the End this is The End-

A whirl of white and green and gold, and the tear is gone, leaving something entirely other in its wake. George shivers in his place; he thought that he’s seen XD angry, before, remembers vividly the feeling of being chased, the God’s voice calling after him as he shut the doors of Punz’s house behind him. He remembers the way their voice had glitched, growing deeper and distorted, the rage with which they had growled at him when they thought they were being used.

That all pales in comparison to this. That was all nothing compared to this.

“YOU-” the deity booms, voice echoing and crackling and rolling like thunder and cracking ice and the roar of the ocean on the sand, making George clamp his hands to his ears in vain. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

George remembers being uncomfortable, back then, at how inhuman XD had seemed. Their jokes, gory and violent and startling, their idea of a prank being playing with people like dolls subject to their whims. It had taken him a while to really seem to get the God and for the God to understand him in turn, a while for him to understand that ignorance did not mean malice, that even a God that had never once known mortality could be so startlingly human. Here, their wings spread over them, seeming large enough to block out the sun, something dark and writhing behind the mask they wear, a sourceless wind howling around their robes and battering against the walls with aimless fury, George is reminded by how powerful they really are. That they are still eldritch, still a God, that they will not hesitate to judge those below him, the ones that they stare at, now, helpless and mortal and trapped within their gaze.

Sam stumbles back on the church steps, grip loosening on his trident. It continues to stick up out of Dream’s unmoving body, splattered with blood halfway up the handle.

“Oh no-” he hisses, and Quackity backs away with him, “no, no no I didn’t want to kill him,”

“THIS DOMAIN IS MINE.” Anyone else and it might’ve sounded petulant, childish. Here, with the deity’s fury directed on the two of them, even on the sidelines all George can feel is terror. “YOU HAVE TAKEN A LIFE UNDER MY PROTECTION, MORTALS.”

“Sam,” Quackity’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Sam, we gotta- we gotta run-”

“WHERE WILL YOU GO, LITTLE MORTAL?” XD disappears, then flashes back into existence at the Holy Land entrance, making Quackity and Sam shriek with their escape route blocked. “YOU HAVE ABUSED THE AUTHORITY YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN AND DESTROYED WHAT WAS NOT YOURS TO BREAK. YOU HAVE PURSUED POWER BEYOND YOUR UNDERSTANDING AND OUTSIDE YOUR POSSESSION. YOU HAVE ENTERED MY DOMAIN, MY REALM. DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU SHALL LEAVE UNPUNISHED?”

“XD,” Sam shouts, and thunder cracks overhead.

“A LIFE FOR A LIFE,” XD rumbles, their words final, and in the end, just as every other time, all George can do when the world ends is watch. Lightning spears to the ground, striking both Sam and Quackity with twin flashes of brilliant white, striking from a clear blue sky. The air sparks from the power, charged with static electricity and making George’s hair stand on end; thunder claps, seems to shatter the world into two as they disappear in twin shrieks and the smell of burned flesh. Just as quick as it happens, it ends, and George is once again left alone in the Holy Land, vomit clawing up his throat and tears stinging the backs of his eyes as he dry-heaves into the grass.

“XD,” he more begs than says, eyes fixed on Dream, still lying too-still on the church stairs. The deity turns to him, their face strangely blank. “XD, please- please tell me this is a dream.”

“Would that make you happy, George?” the god replies, and George sobs, face collapsing into his hands.

“Please, XD, please tell me- please tell me this isn’t real, please-”

“I don’t understand, George. Would that ease your distress?”

“XD- THIS CAN’T BE REAL- THIS- I-” George sinks to the ground. “He- he was supposed to be okay. He was supposed to come back, he wasn’t-” he grips their robes within his hands. “Please, XD, you can bring him back, please bring him back- this has to be a dream, he can’t be- he can’t be dead-”

Through his cries, the sirens continue to wail.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 310: A Tale of Two Kacchans

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Deku was all, “hey, you know what sounds like a good decision? Abandoning my studies at the safest place in the country so that the bad guy who wants to find me and kill me has literally nothing standing in his way of doing that.” All Might was all, “I fucking knew you were going to say some bullshit like that so whatever, but I’M COMING WITH YOU and I’m also going to invite the Hawksquad to come with us, mostly so that I can steal Jeanist’s car.” Jeanist was all, “okay fine you can borrow my car, All Might, but only if you wear jeans.” All Might was all, “okay sure” and he wore jeans and also sunglasses and a leather jacket and it was pretty rad. Anyway so now they’re out there fighting crime and hunting down the LoV and stuff, and absolutely none of it is going to end well, I’m just letting you know now. But I guess we’ll let them enjoy it while it lasts.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “happy belated Kacchan’s Birthday makeste, here’s the flashback you really wanted at long last,” and proceeds to pull the old vestige flashback out of the kitchen drawer and upend its contents all over my Friday afternoon without the slightest bit of warning. OFA III is all “WHAT’S UP I’M JUST SOME GUY, HELLO,” and okay?? Hello yourself. OFA II, on the other hand, is all, “okay yeah I have different hair and stuff, but I’m like 98% sure I’m either Bakugou or his goddamn twin, I mean look at me.” Which, yeah. I looked, and he really is though you guys. Anyway though, so he and OFA II basically just showed up in the First (who goes by Yoichi now)’s prison cell one day all “HEY THERE, WE’RE HERE TO SAVE YOU, APPARENTLY, ALTHOUGH WE SEEM REAL CONFUSED ABOUT IT TBH BUT HEY.” And so they saved him, and Yoichi was all “hey nice to meet you do you want to join my super-exclusive Saving The World Club”, and so they did, and then the chapter ended lol. I would have said yes too.

oh my sweet lord?? I didn’t realize we were getting a color page this week, but LOOK AT THIS

this could have been a fucking volume cover. I’m almost mad that it wasn’t, lol but I mean fkldjslklk just look at it??! Horikoshi out here spoiling us and making sure we’re well fed since next week the manga is on break for Golden Week. well this will certainly help to tide me over. hot damn look at those colors

so now it’s raining on some dumb building in the middle of somewhere

is this where the Hawksquad has set up camp for the night? or are we actually cutting back to the League? that’d be unexpected (but not unwelcome)

ffff nevermind dammit it’s just more random citizens under attack

feels like this is the third or fourth scene we’ve had of civilians being Under Attack since this arc started. I mean no offense, but I think we get it by this point. it’s the end times, etc. etc. we’re well aware that things have gone to shit

so apparently these two guys are facing off against a girl with a mutant quirk. and she’s telling them that she’s not a monster and she was just scared, oh shit. I believe her btw, you can see it in her face

but these assholes don’t believe her at all and they’re pointing what looks to be some type of support item gun at her

you know what’s interesting, is that this kind of random quirk discrimination is the exact kind of thing PLF and the like were swearing up and down they’d put a stop to with their glorious revolution. it’s almost like those guys were completely full of shit. huh

so yeah, fortunately for this woman someone is stepping in and intervening before she can be blasted to bits by this trigger-happy asshole for absolutely no fucking reason

looks like a hero actually stepped in and saved her?? but no that can’t be, heroes are the ones that ruin everything and make everything worse, or so I understand. lol where did all of this sarcasm come from out of nowhere dlkdsjlk I’m sorry guys I just suddenly got swept up in the hypocrisy of certain people’s philosophies out of the blue idek

anyway so it is of course Deku saving her, and now he’s trying to talk thess jerks down all diplomatically instead of just kicking their asses, which is certainly a choice

MOTHERFUCKER I’M

fucking impossible to miss the real world parallels here. shit. this woman nearly died for her crime of Walking While Having A Mutant Quirk huh. and meanwhile Deku is just letting this guy scurry away and even letting him keep that fucking bazooka of his, like, ????

fucking hell she’s crying!!

lmao this chapter is actively trying to make me mad now huh. that’s some genuine righteous anger I’m feeling on behalf of this fictional ferret lady whom I only met two minutes ago. girl you are not the one who needs to explain herself here!! you didn’t do anything wrong holy fuck. everything about this situation sucks so much

fkKJKLMMMHFGH

“I’m sorry I made you upset, please enjoy this panel of tiny!floating!Deku hefting this lady’s massive beach umbrella up for her like the fucking gentleman he is” well okay then thank you sir

and JUST LIKE THAT the tension is broken and I’m entirely incapable of taking the rest of this conversation seriously because Deku’s trying to be all calming and authoritative, but now the illusion has been broken because I know he only comes up to like her knees

“well thanks again for saving me young man. I’ll leave you to it, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do like protecting your Lucky Charms cereal from all those greedy children”

oh hey All Might

you wouldn’t have just let that guy with the bazooka just walk away to commit more attempted murders would you?? man

OH MY GOD DEKU IS IMMEDIATELY DITCHING HIM AGAIN

I ~CANNOT STAY HERE~ oh, well, sorry to keep you detained I know you’re busy

dfslkjlk oh my god

fucking told you Deku didn’t pack any food lol. it’s literally all notebooks in that bag you guys. he couldn’t just leave them all in his dorm room when he left, because what if someone tried to read them and came across one of the pages where he absentmindedly doodled Kacchan’s name surrounded by little tiny hearts oh gosh

AWWWWW

I needed this Horikoshi. thank you for this wholesome soul-cleansing interaction after all of that bullshit earlier

so now Deku’s climbing up this tall building to eat his lunchbox more dramatically. Tokoyami would be proud

and Banjou is saying that society right now is just like in The Good Old Days (read: bad old days) when quirk society was even more of a mess than it is now

which is exactly how AFO likes it, no doubt

so now Deku’s having a whole conversation with Banjou seemingly out loud lol, weird. and he’s basically saying that they don’t have any clues as to where TomurAFO and the League are hiding right now, and none of the Tartarus escapees they’ve found knew anything either

mmmmmfmhm, marge simpson noises

but you think you can?? you, alone, by yourself?? you think you stand a chance?? I just need you to think this all through a bit more kid

Deku it is NOT JUST YOUR RESPONSIBILITY ALONE, PLEASE REALIZE THIS ALREADY. YOU MAY BE THE CHOSEN ONE, BUT EVEN THE CHOSEN ONE NEEDS HIS FRIENDS BY HIS SIDE GODDAMMIT

and of course my pleading is all in vain, because he’s a fictional character who can’t fucking hear me, and also because I’m pretty sure there’s only one character who is going to actually be able to get him to hear reason here. I’ve been saying it, and I’ll keep saying it lol. so until then I guess I’ll just have to be patient

anyway so it appears we’re segueing into another flashback??? HORIKOSHI PLEASE GIVE ME SOME BAKUCRUMBS BEFORE THE TWO WEEK BREAK, I BEG YOU

dlKSDJLFKWJELKGHSLGKLEKJLFKHLGK

YES, THANK YOU, I KNOW WHERE THIS FUCKING IS LOL, IT’S NOT LIKE I’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH FINDING OUT WHAT HAPPENS IN THE REST OF THIS SCENE OR ANYTHING LMAO. BUT ANYWAYS DON’T MIND ME, YOU WERE SAYING??

oh my god oh my god I’m not readyyyyy, but also FUCK YEAH I AM SO FUCKING READY LOL LET’S DO THIS

YOU GUYS

I’M ABOUT TO STEP IN THAT ROOM AND YEET ONE OF THOSE FUCKING CHAIRS AT YOU ALL

NOOOOO

I’M ABOUT TO GRAB BANJOU’S GOGGLES AND STRETCH THEM OUT AND SNAP THEM BACK SO THEY SMACK THE SHIT OUT OF HIS FOREHEAD!!! IT’S WHAT HE DESERVES!!! I’M ABOUT TO MOVE TO JAPAN AND GET A JOB WITH DOORDASH AND FIND OUT WHAT HORIKOSHI LIKES TO ORDER FOR LUNCH SO I CAN BE THE ONE TO DELIVER IT SO THAT WHEN HE OPENS THE DOOR I CAN FINALLY ASK HIM “HEY WHAT THE FUCK” IN PERSON

AHHH NO EVERYBODY SHHHHH STOP TALKING!!!!

SOMEONE PLEASE TELL THAT PERSON SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS IN THE BACKGROUND TO SHUT THE FUCK UP, OH WAIT, THAT’S ME

(」゜ロ゜)」 щ(゜ロ゜щ)

LOL THIS FUCKING ASSHOLE!!! LOOK AT YOU!!! YOU’RE NOT KIRISHIMA OR SHINSOU OR IIDA IN A WIG OR ANYBODY LOL. YOU’RE JUST A DUDE. BROOOOO ABOUT FUCKING TIME, WHAT’S GOOD

I CAN’T SCROLL DOWN AHHHH BUT I HAVE TO BUT IT’S TOO INTENSE AHHHHHHH

I CAN SEE THE TOP OF HIS SPIKY HEAD, IT’S FINALLY THAT TIME AHHHHHHHH OKAY I’M GONNA DO IT HERE GOES

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

IT’S HIM. IT FUCKING REALLY FUCKIGN IS HIM OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. WHY AM I SO SHOCKED LMAO I’M THE ONE WHO’S BEEN SAYING THIS THE WHOLE DAMN TIME LMAO. OH GOD. O H MY FUCKING GOD

well okay then sir. so are you an ~ancestor~ or a Kacchan from another timeline or so what’s your deal then

YOICHI WHO IS YOICHI

YOICHI ALWAYS KNOWS WHAT’S UP. LMAO WHO IS YOICHI

(ETA: I’m going to punch myself in the face lmao. he’s Yoichi. he, the First. that’s his name. name reveal at long last what what!!)

MORE IMPORTANTLY SHOULD I BE IMAGINING NOBU’S VOICE RIGHT NOW BECAUSE LMAO I AM ANYWAY BUT YEAH

(ETA: I actually think he’s going to end up being voiced by Nobuhiko whether he ends up being Kacchan or not, just because it fits right in with the general “identical in almost every way” aesthetic he’s got going on.)

TUMBLR HOW WE LIKING OUR ANGSTY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN?? EVERYONE HATED YOU SO MUCH BEFORE THEY EVEN MET YOU, BUT THEY FORGOT TO CONSIDER THE POSSIBILITY THAT YOU MIGHT BE HOT LMAO WHAT A TWIST

“some bright-eyed brat” oh come on. IT’S GOTTA BE HIM LOL

oh my god you all are probably TIRED AS FUCK of all my screaming but I’M SORRY IMMA HAVE TO DO IT ONE LAST TIME BECAUSE...

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

that face. that expression!! THE FACT THAT HE’S OUT HERE OPENING DOORS WITH HIS FEET, LIKE HOLY SHIT!! JUST ADMIT THE JIG IS UP ALREADY

and so they really are the ones who busted First out of his jail cell huh

so how did they know you were in the room?? why did they come and break you out?? and how, pray tell, did they know to get you to transfer OFA to them?? hmmmMMMMMMMM

oh MY GOD

you guys. oh my god. it’s too much. every last bit of it lines up exactly with the Bakuverse theory sdkjfj I’m short-circuiting. it’s really fucking happening oh my lord

HELLO SEXY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN WITH HIS SEXY FUCKING SCAR, FUCK YEAH WE REALLY ARE EATING GOOD THIS CHAPTER

HELL YEAH WE’RE GOING. WE’RE GOING FULL SPEED YOU GUYS. LMAO I’M SO FUCKING HYPED RIGHT NOW I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF WEFKJLDKFFFF

SO, EVERYONE, LET’S RECAP. -- ACTUALLY NO, I STARTED TO WRITE UP A LIST, BUT I IMMEDIATELY REALIZED IT REALLY JUST NEEDS TO GO IN ITS OWN THREAD. SO I MADE IT AND POSTED IT, AND NOW I’M FINISHING UP THIS HOT MESS OF A RECAP POST. SO NOW WE’RE BACK TO THIS ONE FINAL PANEL OF DEKU EATING HIS KATSU ALL SERIOUS

YES SIR. YES SIR, WE GOING, FULL SPEED AHEAD, WHATEVER, IDK WTF IS HAPPENING BUT YES!!

lol, anyways so as I said in my other post, mysterious sexy guys with tragic pasts are what bring us together as a fandom, so whatever your thoughts are on the rest of it, let’s just rejoice in that. it’s what we deserve

[beneathstarryskies]

I sincerely loved that Madara SFW post (even though I wasn't the one who requested it) 🥰🥰 I'm really just... curious about either Itachi's or Indra's SFW habits 👀 would it be possible to have that alphabet post on either one (of your choice, of course!) Thank you so muuuuch!!!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Itachi is very affectionate in private, but not so much in public. In public he will always hold your hand, and soothe his thumb along your knuckles. That’s as far as it goes though, he’ll be a blushing mess if you kiss him in public. When you’re together at home, he will kiss you sweetly every chance he gets. He always wants to have his hands on you somehow. Itachi loves playing with your hair and nuzzling into it to (discreetly) sniff you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Itachi would be a very good best friend, but he’s definitely the best friend who won’t admit that’s what’s going on. He acts like it’s just a coincidence that he’s always the first person to offer support when you need help or that he wants to hang out a lot. He’ll get a bit embarrassed when someone points out the closeness between you.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

There’s nothing he loves more than holding you in his arms. He’s not even picky about the position. He will just pull you as close as he can in whatever position is comfy for you both, usually hooking his legs around your to keep you close.

He prefers to be the big spoon because he likes to feel protective of you. However, at times he wants to be held close. He’ll curl up against your chest, and might accidentally let out a purring sound if you start playing with his hair.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Itachi loves the idea of settling down, and certainly daydreams about it a lot. He’s just not super invested in the idea, because he doesn’t see why anyone would want to settle down with him with his past. That being said, he’d make an excellent husband. He cooks and cleans, and is very good at it. Most of the time he’ll take care of all the chores without you asking, and if you express feeling guilty he’ll give some vague reply like “it’s the least I could do.”

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Itachi is at his core a very kind man, but he’s also pragmatic. He’ll break things off as smoothly as possible, going above and beyond to spare your feelings. He doesn’t want you to despair too much over him.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Itachi has no issue at all with commitment. He is more than open to being with you for the rest of his life, but he would keep those feelings close to his chest. Itachi would want to play it safe, especially at first. He’d likely have those strong feelings for you very early on (because nobody simps like an Uchiha.)

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Itachi is extremely gentle with you, especially physically. Sometimes when he reaches out to touch you, it’s as though he’s scared you’ll break or disappear like a mirage. He gets better with this as you become more comfortable with your relationship, but he’s always going to maintain a certain tenderness.

Emotionally, he’s similarly careful in how he handles you. Although at times when he tries to offer advice, he can come off as harsh. He’ll always make sure you know these aren’t his intentions. Usually he is right in his advice.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Itachi gives very warm, intimate hugs. One hand will rest on your lower back while the other is between your shoulders. His face will nuzzle against you. You can literally feel him just relax in your arms. He loves hugs, and wants them a lot.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He’s going to want to say it very quickly, but he’ll keep it to himself for a long time. Definitely Itachi would develop a deep love for you very quickly. He’s gonna wait for you to say it first, most likely.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Itachi isn’t a very jealous person. He wouldn’t be with you if he didn’t trust you implicitly. Sometimes if he feels insecure, it can present itself as jealousy. He’ll get to thinking about how you deserve someone with less emotional baggage, and then maybe see you with a friend and it just burns him up inside. As soon as you look at him and your eyes light up with love and adoration, he’ll forget all about it though.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Itachi is a very slow, precise, but very passionate kisser. Every kiss on your mouth is an attempt to channel all of his feelings for you through the gesture. He is very prone to kissing you anywhere his lips can reach. His favorite place to kiss you (besides your lips) is your forehead or temple. Just a sweet kiss to remind you that he’s there for you always. When holding his hand, he’ll often lift your hand to kiss your hand, sometimes even taking the time to kiss each of your fingertips.

Itachi likes being kissed anywhere. He’s just so grateful for your love, but is also a little bit needy. He wants to be peppered in kisses everywhere. His lips, his whole face, chest, hands, all of it. He just craves affection.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

A little awkward at first, but he warms up pretty quickly. He is very careful with children and treats them with a lot of gentleness. He doesn’t want to repeat the mistakes he made with Sasuke.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Itachi is always going to be awake first. If it’s not too early in the morning, he’ll usually curl himself into you for some lazy snuggles. He’ll wake you up by peppering soft kisses on your face.

If he wakes up very early (maybe because of a nightmare) he’ll usually sneak away. He’ll have coffee and breakfast ready for you when he wakes up. The two of you will talk over breakfast, sometimes he’ll tell you about what has him up so early. Usually, he prefers to listen to you talk about what your plans are for the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Itachi adores quiet nights with you. He’s happy just to be around you even if you’re both doing your own things. He likes to lay on the sofa with his head in your lap while he reads, and your fingers twirl through his hair while you either read along with him or watch television.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It will take Itachi a while to reveal things about himself. He wants to know he can trust you completely before he begins opening up to you. That being said he will take his time revealing things to you. Preferring to open up a little at a time so as to not bog you down with too much at once.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He’s not very easily angered, especially not with you. Itachi is more likely to pull the whole “not mad, but disappointed.” If he is angry with you, he does tend to fall into the silent treatment. Not so much as a way to punish you, rather to avoid saying things he might regret.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Itachi remembers everything.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first time you kissed him. It was sort of out of the blue. When you pulled away your cheeks were so flushed and your eyes were blown so wide while you stammered out an apology. He just pulls you back in for another kiss, because he finally knew that you cared for him as much as he did you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He is very protective, and would die for you without question. However, he doesn’t want you protecting him. He would never allow you to put yourself in harm’s way for him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He would put a lot of effort into planning out romantic dates to celebrate special occasions. He will be as extravagant as possible for every single date, anniversary, and birthday. But Itachi is also in it for everyday things as well. You truly are partners in life.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Itachi’s worst habit is drawing into himself when he feels overwhelmed or depressed. He’ll pull away from you and isolate himself. Sometimes even recoiling if you try to reach out. He requires a lot of patience and understanding with this.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not overly vain about anything except his hair. He takes very good care of it, and is very proud of how healthy it is.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely. Itachi felt so hopeless before you came into his life. The thought of losing you is enough to drive him insane.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Itachi is a wonderful cook, and loves to prepare meals for you. He also sees it as a way of taking care of you, and he is very nurturing.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Itachi likes things being clean and tidy. He wouldn’t like the house being overly messy. He will happily help you keep things clean if you’re not good at it.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Itachi has terrible sleep habits. He often will go long periods without sleep to avoid his nightmares, and then when he does finally sleep he just crashes anywhere out of exhaustion. You’ve found him a lot on the couch or even sitting at the kitchen table with his head down.

[flooffybits]

If You Can Hear Me

Idol: Dreamcatcher

marshmallow: Helloo, can I please request a Dreamcatcher 8th member scenario where reader has a rough past and is going through a lot, and the members know it. But instead of worrying the others, she writes all of her emotions and stories into multiple songs without then knowing. But when she left her laptop, the curious members take a look inside and are amazed at how beautiful the songs are. Thank youu.

Warning: mentions of depression

☕buy me a coffee☕

Gahyeon quietly padded outside her and Handong’s shared room, only to sleepily enter yours and Yubin’s. Seeing the two of you still fast asleep, she silently made her way over to your bed, glad that you didn’t have the top bunk as she wordlessly joined you in bed.

The sudden movements caused you to groan before you looked down to see a mop of dark brown hair all over your chest. Adjusting your position and reaching to push the latter’s hair away, your bleary eyes soon make out the maknae’s features before letting out a breath.

“Gahyeon?”

But the younger girl only grumbled as she buried her face into your neck, giving you no proper reply before you heard her silent snoring. And due to your tired state, you simply adjusted the sheets around you before going back to sleep, this time with a clingy and tired baby in your arms.

The next time you wake up, Minji is giving your shoulder a little nudge with a bright smile adorning her features. "Good morning!" She greets and you blink a few times before yawning, stretching your arms in front of you before you realize that Gahyeon was nowhere to be found.

Instead, Yoohyeon had taken her place.

“I thought Gahyeon was here.” You mutter while rubbing your eyes, though your other arm draped loosely around the snoring puppy. Minji chuckled before she placed a kiss on the top of your head. “She got up a while ago. Yoohyeon, I’m not sure when she came here.” Your leader explains and you can only nod your head, because this wasn’t exactly anything new to you.

Lightly tapping her back, you make sure to wake Yoohyeon. But when she refuses to get up, you merely move her so that she’s laying in your bed instead and Minji watches with amusement swimming in her eyes before stepping back and heading for the door. “You have a schedule after lunch. Don’t forget.”

You lay there for a few more moments, waking yourself up, before finally moving to stand, stretching your arms over your head and letting out a sigh. When you look back at Yoohyeon, you let out a small sigh before reaching to pull the covers over her so she was more comfortable, fixing one of your pillows so she would cuddle that instead.

Peeking at the top bunk, you smile when you see Yubin fast asleep, knowing she had stayed up much later than you. You reach to gently pat her head before heading to the bathroom so you could freshen up for the day.

When you reach the living room, you’re not too surprised to see Siyeon, Gahyeon, and Minji already up and about. And it doesn’t take long before Bora comes to join you, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she greeted you with a good morning.

“What time are you heading out, unnie?” Gahyeon asked while munching on her pancake and you check your phone for the time. “Well, hopefully after eating. But considering the traffic, I just might have lunch after my schedule.” You explain, making Siyeon pout as she shook her head. “You have to eat properly. We don’t want you getting sick.” She scolds lightly.

“Siyeon is right. You haven’t been eating much, lately, and we’re close to having another comeback.” The leader stated softly and you purse your lips slightly. “I’ll prepare something for you, so promise me that you’re going to eat at least on the way to the location.” Bora seemed to have sensed your hesitance, and seeing the look on your face, she decided it was best not to point it out, and instead decided to compromise.

Your shoulders visibly relaxed and you eventually nodded your head. “Okay.”

The four exchanged looks before letting the tension eventually pass and Bora was soon working on getting your lunch ready. And when Yubin woke up, she had silently joined and helped the older woman in preparing your food when she found out what the other was doing whilst Handong joined you in picking out your outfit.

“I’m worried about her.” Minji breaks the silence a few minutes after you had bid them goodbye and exited the dorm. “Why?” Yoohyeon asked when she began to fill her plate with her own food.

“Unnie has been withdrawing from us a lot more.” Gahyeon says with a frown, voicing out what was on the majority of their minds.It was no secret to them how you were struggling with certain things. While you often portrayed yourself as a calm and collected person in front of the audience, the girls knew more than that facade and how your demons were much louder than the screaming of the crowd during your performances.

You just had a great way of keeping them under wraps.

“Has she shown any signs of it getting worse?” Handong asked your roommate and the younger woman shook her head. “Unnie’s just been quieter than usual. She’s been writing a lot, too.” Yubin answers when she recalls how your conversation at night gradually decreased and you had resorted to writing in your notebook or laptop.

“Has she mentioned anything?” Minji asks carefully, only to receive another shake of the head, and that was worrisome enough on its own. Without having much of an idea what was bothering you, none of them knew how to help or what to do.

“I wish she didn’t feel like she can’t come to us.” Siyeon quietly mumbles while leaning against Bora’s side and the older girl nodded her head. “I just hope we can help her; make her feel less of a burden.” The dancer mumbled softly while she gently patted Siyeon’s hair.

Not wanting to worry further, the girls decided that it was best to end the discussion there, though they do promise to do the best they can to make sure to help you in any way possible.

..

“Are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?” Yubin asks when she watches you getting ready to leave, somewhat in a hurry. “I’ll be fine, Dami. I promise I’ll be home with all of your favorite snacks and drinks.” You reply, checking your wallet and then shoving it inside your pocket before putting your coat on.

“Stay safe!” Bora calls out to you when you open the door, struggling to put your shoe on and making Gahyeon laugh at your slightly clumsy display. “You have a curfew!” Siyeon adds and you look at her over your shoulder, causing Yoohyeon to crack up this time, before shaking your head.

“See you, love you!” You tell them right before shutting the door and the girls are once again left without you.

Yubin sat by the stairs that led to her bunk and she swung her legs a bit while observing your shared room. It was neat like always, remembering how you wanted to keep the room tidy for the two of you, knowing how Yubin wasn’t exactly too comfortable with a messy room.

Though when Yoohyeon comes inside to check on her, she’s not too surprised when the girl knocks over the pile of clothes you’d left on your computer chair, probably planning on cleaning that up when you return.

“It wasn’t me!” The taller woman immediately shouted before scrambling to pick your clothes off the floor and Yubin sighs before hopping off her bed and then helping her best friend clean up the mess she created.

“What did you do this time?” Handong asked while peeking inside the room and Yoohyeon pouts when she folds the shirt in her hands. “I swear, it was an accident.” The Chinese woman playfully rolled her eyes. “It’s always an accident with you.”

While the pair was busy arguing, Yubin silently placed your clothes back on the chair, only for her to notice how you had left your laptop on when she saw the light near the power button still on. It made her smile a bit with how your urgency had caused you to forget some things, so she moved to turn it off.

But as the screen came to life, she was surprised to see your notes open with various words and phrases written in them. Yubin knew that you often wrote, but she didn’t think you had turned your thoughts into songs, seeing as you’ve never shared anything about song writing.

She knew that it was wrong to snoop through your things, especially ones as personal as these, but each line written captured the emotions she didn’t think she’d find from you made her read more and more of what there was on display, and her silence was soon noticed by the other two.“Dami, what’s that?”

Yoohyeon’s brows pinched together before she and Handong locked eyes for a brief moment, and then moved to stand behind the younger woman, checking to see what had her so distracted.

“This is…” Handong’s eyes widened a bit when she realized what it was she was reading, but much like the other two, she found it difficult to tear her eyes away, too.

The three of them spend longer inside your room and the rest of your members start to wonder just what it was they were doing. So when they go to check, they’re all surprised to see the three still huddled in front of your laptop.

“What are you doing with unnie’s laptop?” Gahyeon questions as Siyeon purses her lips. “What’s wrong?” They spot the tears Yoohyeon was desperately trying to wipe away when she read more of your songs, but it was all in vain.

“I didn’t know it was this bad…” Yubin quietly muttered to herself, but it was loud enough for everyone else to hear. “What’s bad?” Bora asks curiously when she lightly patted Yoohyeon’s head in comfort for whatever it was that had her looking so upset.

But Minji speaks before anyone else answers. “You shouldn’t be looking through Y/n’s stuff like that.” She says sternly, but even with that, she admits that she’s just as curious as the rest of her members. “I know but… you have to see this.”

The four newcomers exchange looks and, eventually, they take a quick peek at the currently opened file, but Minji was far more reluctant due to the invasion of your privacy, but seeing the way her members’ expression shifted, her curiosity eventually got the best of her and she walked over, noticing as Siyeon wiped a tear away from her cheek before she took a seat.

Minji wasn’t sure what to expect when she viewed the screen, but as she let out a slow exhale, she let her eyes scan through the contents of your most recent work and it was then she understood what had caused two, now three, of the members to tear up. She felt herself choke up with the message left in your words.

Do I have to keep pretending?

Or is an echo all I’ll ever be?

Tell me could you really love me

When I’m nothing but a shell of someone I can’t be

When she sees the next one, it’s only then that she notices that there are dates on when you started each song and notes on when you had updated them. The next one was a newer work compared to the one she read earlier.

Now it’s not too late

I only have you, save me now

Tell me if you can hear me

Please come and let this nightmare end

She couldn’t finish the whole song, tears blurring her vision before she carefully shut your laptop and pushed it aside, making sure that it would be in a safe place on your desk, before she got up and faced everyone.

“We’ll talk later.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but given what they just found out - what you felt, they all understood and each departed for their own rooms to think and reflect on what they could do before you arrived home.

..

Trudging up the stairs to your dorm, you let out a heavy sigh, hoisting the bags you had that contained the girls’ food and drinks like you promised before leaving. You were exhausted after meeting with your parents, both physically and mentally, but you were just glad to be back home with your members.

Balancing the bags with one arm, you unlock the door and head inside, kicking your shoes off before you ventured further inside, only to frown at the silence that enveloped your usually loud and bright home.

“Guys?” You call out, confused by the lack of people, but the only person you notice is Minji, who was sitting in the living room with a contemplative look on her face and you slowly put the bags down.

“Unnie, where are the others?” You ask her, noting her silence and the unusual blank look on her face. It worries you, so you look around, only to see everyone’s doors are closed.

The unease builds in your chest, but you push forward as you take a hesitant seat across the older girl. “Is everything okay?” You ask carefully, and she finally lifts her head, surprising you when you see her slightly reddened eyes.

“Y/n, I want you to be very honest with me.” Her voice is like a plea, and her words make you antsy but you nod either way. “Of course, unnie.”

Whatever it was that was upsetting her involved you, you assume. And judging by the lack of your usually loud members, you think that they’re aware of what the problem is.

“Are you happy?”

The question catches you off guard and your eyes snap to your leader’s face, wondering if this was some sort of trick question, only to see nothing but desperation and sadness etched on to her features.

But still, the question makes you go quiet and your hands rest on your lap.

“I...” She licks her lips, almost as though bracing herself before Bora opens the door to her and Yoohyeon’s room. “Jiu wanted to say, we saw some of the things you wrote.” She explains despite the look her friend gives her and Yoohyeon quietly shuffles out of their shared room.

“We understand that you’ll be upset, but we have been trying to understand what was going on with you.” Minji sighs, seeing no more reasons for hiding. “We know that you're dealing with so much, but recently we’ve been feeling a little out of loop, and we had no idea how to help.” Yoohyeon elaborates with a nervous look in her eyes, still feeling guilty for having gone through your personal documents.

The next door to open is Siyeon’s and then Handong and Gahyeon’s. Yubin doesn’t wait either because she’s soon out of your room and joining you on the couch.“We’re asking this time… are you happy?”

You look to each of your members faces, feeling a little overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events that you feel a lump forming in your throat.

It was true that you had been suffering from depression, but you chose to keep that confidential and refused to let it be known to the public, but the girls knew.

They saw you every day and they could see it whenever the thoughts and whispers got a little too louder for you to handle. And while you would confide in them the first few months, everything felt much heavier for you that you felt like you were holding the team back.

“I… I don’t-”

“We won’t be upset, Y/n. Whether it’s a yes or no, we understand. We just want to help you.” Handong says softly when Yubin carefully reaches for your hand and slowly laces her fingers with yours.

You pause, your gaze falling to the floor as you gathered your thoughts before the weight of the past month finally settled on your shoulders. You’ve been busying yourself ever since your parents decided to come and visit you that you didn’t have the time to properly assess the situation.

You so desperately tried to throw it out of your mind, but now as your members finally sat you down and asked you how you felt, you could actually feel the weight crumbling down on you that it was nearly suffocating.

Arms are quick to envelope you from behind and the scent of Siyeon’s shampoo greets your nose. She doesn’t say anything, but it’s clear what her intentions were.

“I want to be…” You mumble quietly, squeezing Yubin’s hand when Siyeon rests her cheek on the top of your head. “There’s a lot that I want to just… shut out, and I can’t seem to do it and everything just piles up that I don’t know what to do or where to go.”

The crack in your voice resembles the ones in their hearts at the sound of it.

“You’ll always have us, unnie.” Gahyeon quietly tells you as she rounds the couch and sits on the opposite side of Yubin. “Gahyeon is right. You have seven people waiting for you and ready to catch you whenever.” Bora tells you with a kind smile, reaching to wipe your tears and cupping your cheeks.

“If you decide that you need a break and just breathe, we’ll be here to help you. You can lean on us if you feel like it’s too much for you. And if you decide that a… h-hiatus is what’s necessary, then we can respect that, too.” Even saying the word had left a sinking feeling in Minji’s stomach, but it was your well-being she wanted to prioritize before anything else.

You look at your leader and chew on your lower lip as your members could all see the conflict on your face.

While they didn’t like the idea of a hiatus, they understood that it may be what you needed the most right now. But that decision was mainly up to you and they could only support you whether you wanted to push through with it or not.

However, you don’t think that you were willing to give up after how far you’ve come. After everything you’ve been through, you doubt that you could actually pull through without your members by your side.

They’ve helped you become the person that you are now - cheered you up and encouraged you when things seemed hopeless and you were left with nothing but the harsh criticism of your family along with the nasty comments left by people online.“I don’t want to go on a hiatus.” You shake your head. “Things are hard, I know, but I don’t want to just throw in the towel after all that we’ve been through, especially when we’re scheduled to start for the next comeback.” You tell them when Gahyeon places her hands on your other arm.

Yoohyeon purses her lips together, tears already in her eyes before she’s blinking them away the best she can. “You don’t have to push yourself because of that, everyone will understand!” She exclaims and you shake your head once more.

“I’m not doing it for them.”

They pause at your words and Yubin feels as you hold her hand tighter in your grip. “I don’t want to keep doing this just because of them. I want to do this because it’s me, because I want to prove to myself that I can keep going and that I can make it.” You explain with a determined look in your eyes, that despite the dullness in them due to your exhaustion, there was still a little bit of spark that just needed more room for it to reach its full potential.

“Are you sure?”

You pause for a brief moment, but when you look back up, you offer them a smile. “Do you think I can show them some of what I wrote?”

That was enough of an answer that had all of them smiling, pride swelling in their chests as you all soon prepared for the upcoming comeback.

[httpsaiki]

Could you write something about now everyone thinks Kuboyasu and the reader are in a secret relationship so Kaidou, nendou and saiki spy on them to see if they actually are (which they are but just don’t wanna tell anyone yet)

Hi! This was such a fun idea, I was super excited to write it. I hope I did it justice! Thank you for your request!

----

Reader is gender neutral!

WC: 861

In which the reader and Kuboyasu are secretly together, but a certain nosy trio discovers the truth.

—————————————————–

“Have you guys noticed Y/N and Kuboyasu spending a lot of time together recently?” It was surprisingly Nendou who pointed this out, taking note of the fact their purple-haired friend was yet again not joining them for ramen. More often than not, he’d meet up with you after class and it wasn’t uncommon for his friend group to find the two of you walking home together.

Kuboyasu was not one to often make excuses. When it came to you, however, he made plenty. It wasn’t like they were good excuses, often they were half-baked and seemingly thought up at the last minute. His closest friends naturally found this very odd. It was out of character for him and they were determined to find out what was going on. 

“Maybe they’re dating,” Kaidou suggested, laughing afterward. “No, Aren would tell us if that were the case… right?”

Saiki rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh. Of course, he knew that simply couldn’t be the case. Sure, some of your thoughts about each other were a bit strange, but he’d know if you guys were dating. Saiki stopped his own thoughts - why does he even care? It’s none of his business anyway. Nevertheless, the idea of you and Kuboyasu dating stuck out in his mind. He wanted to find out now too.

It was a logical conclusion, really. With the way both of you acted, it seemed just like a secret relationship. But your thoughts just did not line up. It was clear you thought highly of each other, but if anything it seemed like you were best friends rather than a couple.

“Let’s trail them,” Saiki said, deciding he was going to get to the bottom of this. It was weird they never saw much of Kuboyasu anymore nowadays.

“Great idea, buddy!” Nendou said.

“Yeah, Saiki, let’s do it!”

Now that the group was in agreement, they planned how they’d go about this. It wouldn’t be hard. Not that Nendou or Kaidou knew, but Saiki would make sure they weren’t caught. It would all go fine as long as none of them did anything rash or stupid. The only worrying part was Kuboyasu seemed to have a sixth sense for when he was being followed, the three of them would have to be cautious of that.

School ended nowhere near soon enough the next day. Kuboyasu ate lunch with Kaidou, Nendou, and Saiki as per usual and you were nowhere in sight. He didn’t mention you once and none of his thoughts struck Saiki as strange. 

Though it seemed as soon as the last school bell rang, Kuboyasu was darting to the shoe lockers. Kaidou made eye contact with Saiki and Nendou, all three of them confirming that it was time to put their plan into action.

Luckily enough, they caught a glimpse of you guys leaving the school. They had almost missed you leaving because of course, they had to run into Teruhashi on the way to change their shoes. 

They trailed behind you quietly, making sure they weren’t seen by either you or Kuboyasu. Unfortunately, they were too far away to hear any conversation, but they could see you talking to each other. What surprised them all, was once you were far enough away from the school, Kuboyasu reached out to hold your hand, walking with you as close to him as he could comfortably manage. 

That was it. All the proof they needed to confirm their suspicions. 

“I knew it,” Kaidou muttered under his breath, “They’re totally dating, you know.” He said, this time a little louder so Saiki and Nendou could hear. They all looked at one another and did a small nod in agreement.

It was then, however, that Kuboyasu suddenly turned around to look behind him. “Shun?” He asked as confusion took over his face.

He turned to you, “Sorry, Y/N, I thought I heard Shun’s voice.”

“No worries,” you happily replied back, “Honestly I thought I heard him too.”

Kaidou let out a sigh, having heard what they said, “That was close, at least they didn’t hear us.”

“Idiot.” 

Kuboyasu turned around once again, certain that he had in fact heard his best friend's voice. 

“Keep your voice down.” But Saiki’s efforts were all in vain, as they were soon spotted anyway. Kuboyasu’s face flushed a light shade of pink upon realizing his friends had seen the two of you together.

Kaidou knew that now was their best chance to find out the truth. Kuboyasu couldn’t dodge the question if you were standing right next to him. 

“Aren,” he started, “Are you and Y/N together?”

“Y-yeah,” Kuboyasu replied. His hand came up behind his neck, rubbing it due to his nerves. He immediately turned towards you, seeking comfort in your presence.

Kaidou’s eyes shot open as he let out a gasp. “I was right! Why didn’t you tell us? How long?”

“We just weren’t ready to say, and maybe a month?”

“Just less than a month.” You confirmed, smiling up at your boyfriend. Kaidou smiled once again, happy for the two of you as he pestered you both with seemingly endless questions.

[ashdumpsterpile]

Ohmygod YES Susan Pevensie is awesome please talk to me about Susan i want to know everything you have to say

Literally THANK YOU for asking me this bc Susan Pevensie is a character I never get asked about and I have So Many Opinions.

I'm going to start by saying that Susan used to be my least favorite character in the series. This goes for the books and the movies. Some of it was for personal reasons--she reminds me of a couple of annoying ppl I know irl--but it was also bc I watched Prince Caspian which shoehorned her into a relationship with Caspian which I hated.

HOWEVER. I ended up rethinking this position after interacting with Susan fans and realizing that there are so many wonderful things to love about her!

(putting under the cut bc this got long)

Things Ash Loves About Susan Pevensie

Aight I'm not going to do a formal analysis yet on her, but instead rant about some of the unrelated things I adore about Susan Pevensie.

Susan the Archer

Look we all love archery here. I don't have anything more to say.

Okay, I actually do have more to say. I love the fact that Susan is a complete badass with the bow. You get the general impression that she's one of the royals in charge of public relations, traditions, foreign policy, etc. and yet she's the most competent archer in the series. One of the few things I liked about the movies is how they didn't downplay this. They actually let her be a badass and show off her skills.

Also the part where she kicks Trumpkin's ass was awesome.

Susan the Gentle

Susan being the most passive Pevensie was something I definitely underappreciated as a teenager. I think my non-ability to see past "I'm not like other girls" narrative and the combination of Susan being described as the most traditionally feminine woman in the Narnia series is what initially turned me off from her.

HOWEVER, now it's one of my favorite attributes! I love that Susan is a badass and the most beautiful woman in Narnia. She has hair down to her feet, every man and woman in the kingdom want to fuck her, and she's still a fucking badass who will not hesitate to kick your ass.

Susan the Sister

Most of my thoughts of Susan as an older sister mostly stem from my own personal headcanons, but she is an awesome sister to her siblings. She's Peter's voice of reason, Edmund's sass partner, and Lucy's big sister.

Susan the Mom-Friend

She is a literal mother-figure for Corin.

"[...] the most beautiful lady he had ever seen rose from her place and threw her arms round him and kissed him, saying: "Oh Corin, Corin, how could you? And thou and I such close friends ever since thy mother died. [...]"

-The Horse and His Boy, 33-34

Most everything I have to say about this ventures into headcanon territory, but I love the idea of Susan basically adopting Corin after his mom dies. The way she trusts Cor--who she thinks is Corin in this chapter--is really sweet and I wish we could've seen more of that relationship.

Susan the Flawed

Something I notice from the fandom is a lot of people who hate Susan tend to because of her flaws. On the other hand, most Susan stans like to wave away these flaws and blame C.S. Lewis for being misogynistic or Aslan for being a "cruel god" and ignore the fact that she is a deeply flawed person.

Susan gets something of a "reverse redemption arc" in The Chronicles of Narnia. This makes her not only a fascinating foil to Edmund--as both are analytical, logical people--but an interesting character by herself.

She starts out in TWW as very skeptical of Narnia and it's whole deal and also very condescending to Lucy throughout. She ultimately does admit that Lucy was right and does get on board with the whole prophecy at the same time Peter does, and ends the book being crowned "the Gentle Queen."

In The Horse and His Boy, she has a very interesting dynamic with Edmund and in even more interesting relationship with Rabadash. They don't even interact on-page with each other, but it's highly implied that she was interested in him when he was a guest in Narnia. His behavior obviously changed when she visited him in Tashbaan, but you have to wonder what their dynamic was like before for her to travel all the way to his home when relations between the countries were strained at best.

Prince Caspian is where the cracks start showing through. Susan has lived an entire life as an adult in Narnia, gets thrown back to England with her siblings, and is yet again in Narnia as a child. This book is what really emphasizes her one fatal flaw: convenience.

(Put a pin in that thought, I'll get back to it.)

Susan denies once again that Lucy saw something that the rest of them can't seen. She continues this narrative until every other sibling finally acknowledges Lucy in the right and only then does she apologize.

The last mention of Susan is in The Last Battle, where all of her flaws rise up against her in the worst way possible. I have a lot of controversial opinions on this that I'm going to address later, but I just want to say that Susan's reverse-redemption arc is something I actually like about her.

(There is also evidence that Susan does get a full redemption arc, just as Edmund and Eustace did, but C.S. Lewis was pretty much done with The Chronicles of Narnia at the point and instead encouraged fans to write their own version of how that went down.)

Okay, back to convenience being Susan's fatal flaw. So the one thing that comes up time and time again in the series is that Susan is very focused on material comforts. I believe it's implied that she's vain, and it's canonical that her own personal comfort spurs her to make decisions.

"[...] I really believed it was him — he, I mean — yesterday. When he warned us not to go down to the fir wood. And I really believed it was him tonight, when you woke us up. I mean, deep down inside. Or I could have, if I'd let myself. But I just wanted to get out of the woods and — and — oh, I don't know [...]"

Prince Caspian, 81

Prince Caspian has the strongest examples of Susan doing this, but certainly there's evidence elsewhere. There are a lot of fans who are distressed by this, claiming that Aslan and the others are too hard on her and shouldn't judge.

Honestly, I like that she's written with this flaw. Not only is it very relatable--(my own personal comfort and convenience is something I highly prioritize too)--but it humanizes a character who otherwise is ridiculously op and basically the Helen of Troy of the series. It may sound like I'm using this as an excuse to rant, but I really wouldn't have her any other way.

Susan As Portrayed by Anna Popplewell

Movie!Susan is a fucking delight.

She's sarcastic and badass and awesome and I could spend hours heaping praise on Anna's acting and her portrayal of Susan, but I can already tell that this post is going to be long so, I'll just stop here.

(10/10 want to be stabbed by her tho.)

Personal Headcanons

Let's talk about my fanon thoughts. I have many.

Susan is Aro

There's canonical evidence for this! Susan is a character who is heavily pursued by suitors everywhere, and even lets herself be courted by many of them, but chooses not to settle down. Even when she gets back to England and is described as only having interest in parties and material things, boys aren't mentioned.

I like to think that in The Horse in His Boy Susan was interested in Rabadash at first because he was a brilliant conversationalist. Nothing she says about him implies romantic interest, before and after she realizes the truth of his intentions.

Susan and Edmund Were Best Friends

This might be my love for The Horse and His Boy showing itself, but I think Susan and Edmund were thrown into circumstances where they interacted the most with each other.

Edmund is the ruler in charge of politics. Susan is the ruler in charge of Cair Paravel's public image. I imagine they spent time as ambassadors to other countries and planning royal functions.

They're also the most level-headed and logical out of their siblings, so they probably found a lot in common.

Susan Fancast

I literally just said I loved Anna's potrayal of Susan's (and I love what they gave us of older Susan too in LWW!), but I read the books in 2008 and my parents didn't let me see the movies bc I was like...nine years old and they thought it would be too scary.

So I had to headcanon my own interpretations.

Queen Susan the Gentle:

For some reason Merlin wasn't too scary for me to watch and I fell in love with Katie McGrath in like. Two episodes so. (On an unrelated note, I also fancast Bradley James as Peter at the time.)

Anyway, fanon Susan is basically Morgana Pendragon pre-evil arc. Sassy as hell, hot as fuck, and can kick your ass.

Unpopular Opinions

Yeah, feel free to skip this part if having controversial fandom opinions is a deal breaker for you.

The Problem With Susan Isn't Actually A Problem

I'm about to start so much discourse in the Narnia fandom, but C.S. Lewis's choices with her in The Last Battle weren't misogynistic. Bear in mind, I'm not saying that all of his writing choices in the series were A++ or excusing away certain racist/sexiest bits, but it's honestly baffling to me that people are so up in arms over Susan's exclusion in the final book.

So the part that everyone loses their shit over is as follows:

"My sister Susan," answered Peter shortly and gravely, "is no longer a friend of Narnia."

"Yes," said Eustace, "and whenever you've tried to get her to come and talk about Narnia or do anything about Narnia, she says 'What wonderful memories you have! Fancy your still thinking about all those funny games we used to play when we were children.'"

"Oh Susan!" said Jill, "she's interested in nothing now-a-days except nylons and lipstick and invitations. She always was a jolly sight too keen on being grown-up."

"Grown-up, indeed," said the Lady Polly. "I wish she would grow up. She wasted all her school time wanting to be the age she is now, and she'll waste all the rest of her life trying to stay that age. Her whole idea is to race on to the silliest time of one's life as quick as she can and then stop there as long as she can."

The Last Battle, 83-84

There's a lot to unpack here and I first want to say that everyone's opinion on this part, no matter how different than mine, is valid. I'm going to be quoting some other ppl's opinions on here and by no means am I bashing them. I just want to address my feelings on the matter and the best way to do that is to cite the thoughts of ppl who have opposing ideas.

Here are some arguments on Tumblr I've heard regarding "The Problem of Susan":

"How about we talk about what might have happened if Narnia hadn't deserted Susan? [...] What if we didn't tell Susan she had to go grow up in her own world and then shame and punish her for doing just that? She was told to walk away and she went. She did not try to stay a child all her life, wishing for something she had been told she couldn't have again."

"Narnia is filled with metaphors (often not very subtle ones) that are supposed to teach us how to be, and the most glaring one for any young girl to absorb is that it's okay to be a girl like Lucy, unthreatening and cheerful and valiant and faithful, but to be a girl like Susan gets you punished - in fact, you aren't just punished, you're destroyed."

"why do we call it ‘the problem’ where’s the problem about a young woman dealing with her trauma and choosing her own path, actively making the choice to keep living and to stay and to carve a life out in England when her siblings couldn’t? what is the problem about susan forgetting to somehow cope with what she’s experienced? why is it ‘the problem of susan’ that she recontextualised her faith?"

And then there's JK Rowling who said this:

There comes a point where Susan, who was the older girl, is lost to Narnia because she becomes interested in lipstick. She's become irreligious basically because she found sex. I have a big problem with that.

It's weird how I'm still finding new ways to hate JKR in the year 2021. Again, there is absolutely zero implication that Susan had sex when she came back to England. ZERO. Did she actually read the books? IDK. If someone shares this opinion pls reply with actual canonical evidence.

Back on topic, I'm a firm believer of death of the author and interpreting art via your own experiences. Which is why I'm also going to share my own interpretation by saying y'all are wrong.

Susan Pevensie was not abandoned by Narnia. She was not barred from Narnia because she is traditionally feminine or because she "owned her sexuality" (another opinion I didn't have time to condense down for this post) or because she recontextualized her faith or even because she deserved to be punished.

I also fail to see how Susan recontexualized her faith, as the entire point of it all is that she has none. Bringing this back to Susan's fatal flaw (personal convenience/material comforts), her prioritizing herself over her own faith is the reason she is "no longer a friend of Narnia." Not...whatever fanon y'all are imposing on her character.

Susan is not being punished for liking lipstick and looking pretty. Susan's not even being punished. Y'all read Neil Gaiman's The Problem of Susan and forgot it wasn't canon.

There are many reasons Susan is not in Aslan's Country (one of them being that she's not actually dead yet), but the main one has to do with this:

"[...] But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.”

Voyage of the Dawn Treader, 215-216

Yeah, okay that's why Susan is no longer a friend of Narnia. The implication when the Pevensies are told that they can no longer enter Narnia is that they are to find Aslan in other places. Susan doesn't do this, instead choosing to focus her life on material things. It isn't the lipstick, it's that she only wants the lipstick.

Susan Had Sex In The Books

Oh and not in the context y'all are thinking. (Again, there are no implications that Susan was barred from Narnia for having sex or that she had sex when she came back to England.)

So there's actual canonical evidence that Susan and Rabadash had a sexual relationship. Sort of.

"What think you? We have been in this city fully three weeks. Have you yet settled in your mind whether you will marry this dark-faced lover of yours, this Prince Rabadash, or no?"

-The Horse and His Boy, 35

Edmund calls Rabadash her lover. Not her suitor. I don't know if the word had a different meaning in 1954, but it feels like C.S. Lewis is saying that they're fucking. I'm not really happy with the idea of Susan sleeping with an abuser, but really proud of her for Getting Some as a woman born in a time period where having premarital sex was a big no-no.

This also invalidates the weird opinion going on that Susan was barred from Narnia because she had sex.

Suspian Is The Worst

I haven't really talked about Movie!Susan much, but as long as we're talking unpopular opinions, it's worth noting that I hate Suspian. Some of it is the "Susan is Aro" headcanon screaming inside of me, but it's also the fact that it's written poorly, does nothing interesting for either character and generally comes across as awkward.

I feel like they were trying to make Prince Caspian sexy and relevant to teens. It came across as super heteronormative and unnecessary.

It also gets really really weird bc the next movie then gives Caspian and Edmund mad chemistry and we're all just like........ok.

Final Thoughts

Susan may not be my favorite character in the series, but she's grown on me over the years. I have many issues with fanon interpretations of her--which definately fueled some of my disdain for her initally--and I don't identify as a Susan Apologist.

I do however adore Susan and have many headcanons for her not mentioned here. I love reading fanfic, writing fanfic and meta, and generally having conversations about her and would love to talk more about it.

I welcome criticism (CONSTRUCTIVE) and conversation on all of my opinions and observations. Please drop into my inbox. <3

[trulyinspiringmovies]

Ambulance

“Ambulance” left me with sore eyes because the shaky-cam gave my eyes a workout.

Will Sharp is a veteran who’s trying to money for an experimental surgery for his wife. The insurance company isn’t coming through, so he goes to his brother Danny. Danny says his money is all tied up in a bank heist he’s about to do and that he could really use Will’s help. Will reluctantly agrees, not knowing what he’s gotten himself into.

Throughout the movie, there’s this force that’s making the movie adhere to a strictly dramatic tone. Even when the movie tries to make jokes, this force undermines them and brings the tone back on track. I think it’s because Michael Bay doesn’t know how to balance the comedy with the action. He’s so hellbent on making sure this movie looks cool with every shot that he’s too afraid to pull back and just be funny. The camera work in this movie made my brain rattle in my skull. I swear to God, he made best friends with a drone pilot or something and had him do skillful maneuvers for every aerial shot they needed. Thoughtful cinematography was thrown out in favor of mind-numbing rollercoaster camerawork. The whole movie takes place within an ambulance caught in a high-speed chase, so if you’re easily car sick, you might want to bring your medication. Even when the characters are stationary, Michael Bay has to bring in his signature spin-around-the-actors shot or his cameraman has hand tremors. The plot is never really used to flesh out the characters, but instead used for explosions, gun shoot-outs, and car crashes. At a certain point in the movie, I thought I was catching on to the fact that I was in purgatory and I’ve been in the movie theaters for an eternity. I think the great actors are doing the best they can with the material they’re given, but sometimes it just wasn’t enough. Jake Gyllenhaal’s descent into madness was fun to watch, but I felt like some of the shots used were from his not-so-great takes. Yahya Abdul-Mateen II is consistently great in other films, but in “Ambulance”, it felt like he was phoning it in for the majority of the movie. There is one scene at the end where his acting floored me, but I think it only did that because the rest of the movie was so dull in comparison. There’s a cop they have to keep alive so they don’t get into more trouble, but all of it really falls apart with the slightest of questioning. I truly felt bad for the cop because he seemed sweet and the script was just finding any excuse to treat him cruelly. Like, I understand that it’s just part of storytelling to have bad things happen to a character, but it felt way too meanspirited for no explainable reason within the narrative. Michael Bay movies have always been vain, thoughtless explosion porn for military lovers. His narcissism is apparent when you realize he’s in every other shot of the police officers. He doesn’t try to blend in either. He has dirty blonde hair and a slightly different outfit than everyone else. It’s really hard to miss him in every single shot he’s in. It’s one thing to accept the fact that your movie is popcorn fodder and do the best you can do to make it entertaining. It’s another thing to not even care about doing the bare minimum.

★★

Watched on May 3rd, 2022

[candycityy]

Ooh rivetra and 20 or 76 (or both if you want to ;)) for the Drabble prompts pleeeease 🧡🖤

Note: I did both because what can I say, I love a challenge, hehehe. I hope you like it!

References this earlier drabble.

(You can also read this on AO3!)

So here's the thing, right. For all his flaws—and he does have flaws, no matter what the fawning masses think—Levi isn't stupid.

Sure, he's not probably not cut out for the rarefied, upper-crust intelligentsia that Erwin Smith moves in. And sure, certain idiots of the variety of Hanji Zoë might swear on their dying breaths that he's all brawn and no brain, et cetera, but the truth is, he's got enough street smarts and common sense that most people conveniently overlook his awful social skills.

And that means that contrary to popular belief, Levi doesn't totally suck at social events. The Sina elite tend to misread his frosty bluntness and lack of etiquette as a refreshing, man-on-the-street brand of humour. Which, well, whatever works, he supposes.

Unfortunately, as a matter of consequence, that means that even with a hyperactive three-year old at home, Erwin had point-blank refused to let him off for this year's Midwinter Ball. He'd given him leave for the past few since Ava was still far too young to be left alone at home, but judging by the commander's expression, he's just about exhausted his excuses.

"You know the state of our finances, Levi," he'd said, cerulean eyes earnest and entreating. "We need every coin we can get. And, well, you're always quite popular at these balls, being humanity's strongest and all—not accounting for taste, of course—"

"Oi!"

The commander'd smirked, but his expression had faded back to solemnity quickly enough. "We need you there, Levi. I won't make it an order, but consider it...a personal request. Please?"

Levi'd grumbled under his breath. "Whatever. I'll go, I'll go, just stop looking at me like that," he'd barked.

Erwin had smiled. "I knew I could count on you, Levi."

Cut to the present. It's just past six o'clock, the winter sky only now beginning to darken into a somewhat forbidding shade of violet-grey. He's already dressed in his standard black suit, pacing back and forth the small living room, his eyes darting to the clock every few seconds.

Petra, who's in the midst of removing the curlers from her hair, shoots him an irritated look. "Would you calm down," she hisses, "you're driving me crazy. And Ava's going to pick up on it too, you know."

They both glance at their daughter, who's serenely colouring in a picture in crayon at the other end of the room. The three-year-old is Petra in miniature, from her wide eyes right down to her peaches-and-cream complexion. With just one exception: her hair is just a touch darker than her mother's: more cinnamon than honey.

Levi runs a hand through his hair. "Why aren't they here yet?" he says, for the third time that night.

"Because we told them to come at half past," Petra replies, with somewhat less patience than she'd ordinarily have. "Now get over here and help me do up my necklace, would you."

The metal is cold to the touch, but Petra just smiles softly as he clasps the necklace behind her neck with deft fingers. "Remember our first Midwinter Ball?" she reminisces. "That was pretty fun, wasn't it?"

"Fun for you, maybe," Levi says drily. "I was busy dragging Auruo off the dance floor after he puked and blacked out, remember?"

She giggles. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that part. But still, that was when we danced together for the first time." They fall into a comfortable, nostalgic silence, and finally, he sighs.

"I still don't like leaving her alone," he mutters.

"It's hardly the first time," Petra says gently.

"I know, but it's the first time we'll be so far from her. And for so long, too—a whole night." His eyes turn contemplative. "Maybe I could just ride back, after the ball—if the weather isn't bad—"

"Don't even think about it," she says sharply. "The roads aren't safe this time of year, especially not so late at night, there's too much ice. We'll be back in the morning, Levi. Don't worry so much."

He snorts. "Easier said than done. Why aren't they here yet?" he asks again. This time, Petra ignores him, instead turning back to the mirror and carefully applying lipstick with a practiced hand.

After the final step—dusting her cheeks with rose-tinted powder—she rises to her feet, doing a slow turn in her gown, a sleek, champagne-coloured affair with a fitted bodice and fluted sleeves, cut out of satin and embellished with tiny buttons down the front. Her delicately curled hair falls in soft waves to her collarbone, just brushing the front of her dress.

"What do you think?" she goes. Oblivious to his sullen silence, she juts out a hip and flutters her lashes at him coquettishly, an action which earns her an eye-roll.

"You're going to make everyone stare," he grumbles. She giggles.

"I have to keep your fangirls away, now don't I?" she teases, with a toss of her head. He's about to issue a retort when a knock comes at the door.

"Right on time, as usual," Petra declares. Levi just scowls.

He'd had been reluctant to get them back after the first disastrous incident, but Petra had insisted that they'd done a good job—"after all, Ava was perfectly fine, wasn't she?" As a result, Eren and Jean have become their go-to babysitters ever since. Levi's loath to admit it, but their daughter has warmed up to them. She's already toddling over to the door with a ready beam on her face, as the boys troop in through the door, faces flushed with the cold.

"Eren nii-chan! Jean nii-chan!" she chirps, plump arms outstretched. "Pick me up, pleaaaase?"

Eren breaks into a grin and obliges. His terror of Levi has subsided somewhat, although he still occasionally trips over his feet whenever he walks past, but he openly adores the toddler. Jean's a bit more reserved, but as Ava begins to babble cheerfully, his expression noticeably softens—even though he claims he's not a fan of babies, Levi suspects that he's secretly just as enamoured with Ava as his comrade is.

Of course, that only makes sense, considering that as far as Levi is concerned, Ava Ackerman is the cutest fucking baby on the planet.

Outside the door, there's the distant sound of approaching hooves pounding against cobblestone. Sensing a farewell, Petra sighs and leans over to give Ava one last hug, as Levi presses a gentle kiss to his daughter's cheek.

"We'll better be off," she says reluctantly. "Boys, thank you so much for taking care of Ava tonight. If anything goes wrong, you know what to do."

All four adults exchange grim, silent glances; they know what's coming next. Levi picks up his coat and shrugs it on. Petra wraps a scarf around her neck.

And with a sigh, they push the door open, and wait.

Three, two—

"Nooooo!"

Ava lets out a ear-splitting shriek, one that seems far too loud to come from such a small baby. Her eyes well up with anxious tears as she comes to the awful realisation that her parents are leaving without her, and she struggles desperately towards them, her face screwed-up and flushed with fury, as Eren doggedly tries to keep her from wriggling out of his arms. Beside him, Jean attempts in vain to ply her with sweets and toys, but she won't be soothed or distracted.

"No, no, no!" Ava wails. Her tiny fists pummel Eren's shoulder, who, to his credit, doesn't flinch, just hefts her up resignedly. "No go, no go! Stay!"

Petra sends him a warning look. And even as every atom of his body rebels against the thought of it...

Levi steps over the threshold, and into the wintry night air.

==

"Levi," Petra says patiently, "you're fidgeting."

She places a hand on his thigh, which, apparently, he'd been subconsciously jiggling all this while. Calming Ava down had taken about ten whole minutes, but Eren and Jean had finally managed to distract her with a game of hide-and-seek—her new favourite—and they'd quietly snuck onto the carriage before she could realise their trick.

They're barely more than a mile from home, but already being away from Ava feels like a piercing, physical pain in the front of his skull, a palpable anxiety that refuses to fade. Even Petra's presence, usually so comforting, doesn't soothe him in the slightest.

"Sorry," he mutters. "It's just—it's fucking terrifying, being a parent." His wife touches his cheek in silent commiseration, and they both sit in silence.

It's as perfect a night as it could ever be, in all honesty. The moon is full and bright, its silvery light beaming helpfully onto their path. The road is almost deserted this evening—Levi supposes most people would rather be safely tucked in the warmth of their homes, celebrating the holiday season with their own families instead of with dozens of expensively-attired strangers.

Fuck it all. Sensing his blood pressure rising, he takes a deep breath. The air is cool and dry and calming. Turning to stare out at the window, he listens to the rhythmic clickity-clack of the horses' hooves, their huffed pants of exertion, the metallic whine of the wheels—

Levi frowns. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Petra starts to ask, and then stills—this time, she'd heard it too. That high-pitched, bell-like sound, that sounds disturbingly like...

She swallows. "D-did you just make that noise?"

He stares at her drily. "I don't think my vocal chords could physically manage that."

"You don't think..." Her jaw drops, and she almost leaps towards the driver's seat in her urgency, startling the poor old man. "Excuse me! Stop the carriage, please!"

The horses have barely come to a halt when Levi disembarks from the carriage in one swift, fluid movement. He strides towards the back of the carriage, where, he knows, there's a small compartment built in, just large enough for their overnight bags and gear.

As well as—perhaps—a three-year-old toddler, if she were crouching quite close to the floor. Like, for instance, in a game of hide-and-seek.

His expression is grim as he tugs open the lid of the compartment. Behind him, Petra looks frozen, her face a mixture of trepidation and incredulity and just the tiniest hint of amusement.

The lid comes loose. "Daddy!" their irrepressible daughter exclaims, springing out of her crouching position. She giggles again, that familiar high-pitched, bell-like sound almost unnaturally loud in the silence of the night. "Mama! Ava came along!"

For a second, both parents are struck speechless as they stare at their cheerful stowaway in wordless horror.

Finally, Petra opens her mouth to speak.

"You don't say," she deadpans.

==

By the time they reach Sina, the ball has already started.

Of course, considering how they had to turn back around (much to the chagrin of the carriage-driver), tuck Ava very firmly into bed (it goes easier this time, considering how exhausted she is from the very dramatic game of hide-and-seek), reassure a terrified Eren and Jean that they're not mad (although Levi still isn't sure, to be honest), and allow them to resume sentry duty before leaving, he figures they actually made pretty good time.

Other than the very pointed, self-righteous look the doorman shoots them as they stumble into the hall, they manage to blend into the crowd with relative ease. They quickly touch base with the rest of the squad and collect two well-deserved flutes of wine before searching for Erwin, if only to reassure him that they did, in fact, come.

The commander is, of course, easy enough to spot, what with his stature and all. And although he initially looks mildly disapproving, his expression quickly turns wry once he hears the tale.

"That's quite a story," he says, nodding politely at a passing noblewoman, who blushes alluringly and bats her eyes. "Although, I suppose I should be glad you turned up at all, considering."

Petra giggles. "Touché. Although, maybe next year, we can bring her along. Wouldn't that be adorable?"

"Over my dead body," Levi says flatly. "But maybe next year, you'll let me stay home, Erwin."

The blonde man sighs and casts his eyes skyward. Around them, the party thrums cheerfully, soldiers mingling with nobles, careful words and casual touches exchanged over good dance and better drink. But although the atmosphere is thick with holiday cheer and inebriation, the commander seems wearily immune. "Maybe next year, I'll finally resign."

Levi snorts and lifts his wine-glass. "I'll toast to that."

Drabble challenge!

[badlydrawndrawnings]

Netflix “Sugar Bowl” Theory

Not so much about what’s in the sugar bowl as Netflix pretty much reveal the content for their continuity, but rather, ownership of the sugar bowl (with a bonus on trying to make sense of the Netflix show timeline).

I had to re-watch the opera night flashback in order to listen to the conversation between Esme and Beatrice. One line always stood out to me that I could be putting too much thought into it, but it’s a line I feel is overlook as well.

Esme: “Please, darling, you can trust me to keep it safe. I’m rich and beautiful.”

Even though Esme’s main motive regarding the sugar bowl is ultimately vain/selfish (“It completes my tea set.”) Esme also say Beatrice should trust her enough to keep it safe. Esme only says the line of it completing her set after Beatrice keeps on trying to persuade her to give it up. and to me, the way Esme says “It completes my tea set.”, it seems she wants Beatrice to stop talking about giving the sugar bowl in general, with ‘and another thing’ final note to finish the conversation for good.

It got me thinking ‘what if Esme has her tea set prior to the opera night, but the sugar bowl wasn’t part of her original set?’ Esme in fact, got a replacement sugar bowl in order to complete her set, and she was allowed to keep the sugar bowl as her own, on the condition from the previous original owner to keep it safe. Esme’s main motive is still selfish, but now there’s the fact Esme personally want the sugar bowl (at the time of the conversation and switching sides) because Esme arguably has the most dangerous assignment of all, and sees herself the only one worthy of the task to protect it.

But it still begs the question: Who is the original owner of the sugar bowl?

Beatrice: “Listen to me, Esme. there are traitors within VFD who do not want to put out fires at all. A certain man with a beard but no hair, a certain woman with hair but no beard. They think fire can solve any problem in the world. What if they get their hands on Gregor Anwhistle’s research? […] you want a family one day. I do too. Don’t you want to raise your children in a safer world? This sugar bowl is our only hope. It can save lives.”

It’s a stretch -a big stretch- but given Beatrice namedrops him in their conversation and is putting focus on his research, there’s a possibility Gregor Anwhistle was the previous sugar bowl owner, and he didn’t perfected the mycelium at this point on the timeline. I say this because going by the Widdershins happy family photo and Fiona’s apparent age of five or six, assuming it was taken a bit before Fernald started his apprenticeship at Anwhistle Aquatic (as Fernald was wearing his Queequeg uniform, and not dress up as a lab assistant as shown in his flashback of the fire) and Gregor went volatile because the Mycelium is perfected, the Anwhistle Aquatic Fire in the Netflix show happened five or six years after the schism started.

As this is very early on in the timeline, Gregor’s research is not only imperfect, but still in development. However, it’s at a critical stage Gregor fears if anyone gets its hand on it, it can lead to trouble, and he fears two associates in particular knowing they’re powerful high court judges who are starting to stray and cause trouble. Gregor as a precaution gave the sugar bowl to Esme. A rich and beautiful woman like Esme with a complete tea set would not stand out to anyone. Esme herself is the perfect ‘hiding spot’.

Eventually Gregor realize he had no choice but to go back on his word, and roped in Beatrice and Lemony and Bertrand (who’s role on watching the opera night flashback has me realize Kit’s book role was transfer to Bertrand, just offscreen, because it just occurred to me Netflix!Kit due to her character changes has no idea what is going on) to get it back from Esme. Beatrice didn’t want to steal the sugar bowl because she knew Esme was pick for a reason, which is why she went on a speech to persuade Esme. But after Esme refuse to listen to reason, believing she can keep it safe and keep her complete tea set, did the sugar bowl theft happened. Beatrice (and Lemony, since he was willingly to be the fall guy so I assumed if the opportunity rose, he would have to like...kill someone? again assuming ATWQ events happened? Damn Netflix!Lemony was going to kill twice) prepared to kill Esme with a poison dart snuck in by Bertrand as the ultimate back up plan if/when Beatrice and Lemony got caught. This of course, leads to (in)famous opera night and the schism.

With Olaf’s father dead and Lemony going on the lam, returning back, and then getting declare dead which may or may not be related to Olaf or other VFD reasons or not (this is Lemony after all), Beatrice and Bertrand fear Olaf will go after them. Beatrice knows Olaf knows she threw the dart since Olaf tried to kill her at VFD’s headquarters during the masked ball. However, Olaf is (was) under the impression Lemony gave the dart to her, not Bertrand (was because Olaf is realizing that night was much more different with a re-evaluation). Ishmael at this point is getting tired of the world being up in figurative and literal flames and smokes, allow Beatrice and Bertrand to live on the island with him, which was initially plan as a VFD location but abandon due to the schism.

Ishmael on the island decided he wanted out of VFD and have a new start as a cult leader, while Beatrice and Bertrand after creating the hybrid apples with the help of the sugar bowl (Gregor knows Esme suspects he has it and now gave ownership to the two) and realizing they have a child on the way, want to go back to the world and brave everything together. 

They stay in VFD long enough to give Gregor back the sugar bowl, since Esme now believes Gregor never got the sugar bowl back after the opera night and no longer suspects him. Gregor continues to work on the mycelium (in secret) and eventually gets Fernald as his apprentice. Being an apprentice has Fernald going ‘oh gee I think Gregor is getting volatile even more than usual’ because the sugar bowl contents aren’t the same anymore due to Beatrice and Bertrand and now the mycelium project is one step closer to getting perfected.

When the mycelium is truly perfected, and the cure is going to get mass production at Lousy Lane, Gregor is ready to fight fire with fire. This leads to Gregor and Ike fighting, as Ike not only thinks what Gregor is doing dangerous, Ike is upset that the schism happened over a sugar bowl, and he fears this will make the schism worse. After the fight, and Fernald failing to reason with Gregor, Fernald decided to set Anwhistle Aquatic on fire. This of course result in Fernald losing his hands, the fire-fighting side of VFD kicking Fernald out, and Fernald and Widdershins’ big fight resulting with Fernald leaving.

The sugar bowl was moved before the fire (by Gregor, with few people knowing; Fernald isn’t in on the loop because Gregor doesn’t trust him anymore) to the factory at Lousy Lane, after which it was moved around until it accidentally found a home at Heimlich Hospital. Esme when hearing about the factory at Lousy Lane opening up started goes back searching for it, but once again gave up, as Fernald, who is now on their side and because he was out of the loop, tells her and everyone else the sugar bowl wasn’t at Anwhistle Aquatic when he burned it down. So everyone assumed the sugar bowl got ‘stolen’ pre-fire by another unknown player, with everyone giving up on it for years until the ASOUE period which gives new life to the search.

[moonbeamwritings]

falling asleep, falling in love

Summary: Road trips with the group are often hectic and loud, but you find comfort in a nap against a certain white-haired mafioso’s shoulder. Panic ensues.

Author’s Note: This is a direct result of thirsting over Abbacchio and never finding a way to write him. I feel like it’s ooc, but let me know!

You often dreaded going on long car rides with the rest of the gang. Not because you didn’t like spending time with your friends, but mostly due to the fact that they became almost feral when on the road for too long. Narancia and Mista only seemed to get louder, Fugo became much more irritable, and Abbacchio often threw around an alarming amount of harsh words. It was safe to say that when Bruno announced you would all need to travel to the countryside you were less than thrilled, matters made much worse when you were conveniently squished between Abbacchio and Fugo in the backseat. Great.

You’d harbored feelings for Abbacchio for quite some time. Despite his stoic, often cold demeanor, you found him handsome and easy to get along with when you cracked his shell. The two of you had shared many late nights talking about music, reflecting on life, and patching each other up, be it physically or emotionally. You were by no means an expert, but your intuition rivaled only that of Bucciarati’s when it came to the white-haired mafioso. 

The panicked hammering of your heart only seemed to worsen when his knee brushed against yours as he climbed in next to you. 

“Sorry,” he’d mumbled, seemingly aiming to slink as close to the window as possible. 

You were in for a long ride.

It started off well enough, Narancia and Mista somewhat subdued with Trish sitting in between them and they hadn’t seemed to instigate Fugo just yet. Bruno and Giorno were up in the front, speaking quietly amongst themselves. Abbacchio hadn’t said a word since getting in the car, opting to listen to his own music through his headphones.

Suddenly, though, things took a turn for the worse. Mista had pushed into Trish, who in turn fell into Narancia. 

All hell broke loose.

“All I’m saying is that Mista bumped into me first. It’s not my fault you got pushed against the window” Trish argued, glaring at both boys.

Narancia fired back, “You could’ve stopped him!”

“I’m not a mind reader.”

All the while Mista had begun to laugh, clearly pushing against Trish to get a rise out of Narancia.

“Will you three shut up,” Fugo chimed in, whipping around in his seat, “It’s goddamn annoying.”

This only served to make the situation worse than it already was, instigating Narancia to get even more annoyed as Mista continued to cackle.

Bruno had, in vain, attempted to quell the situation from the front, but ultimately fell on deaf ears. Bless his heart. The conversation seemed to go on for hours, eventually turning into nothing but static in your brain, no longer registering as being loud or annoying.

You could feel your eyes start to grow heavy regardless of the chaos behind you and before you knew it, you were dozing off.

The ride had been no easier for Abbacchio, despite keeping to himself. He’d opted for his own music, not only to drown out inevitable arguments and rowdiness, but also to distract himself from you. Sitting so close to you made him nervous beyond belief, the butterflies in his stomach making him nauseous. You were so cute and when Giorno hit potholes or curves in the road, he couldn’t stop his knee from knocking into yours. It was torture.

He was quiet and hard to get along with, that much he knew, but you had tried, gone out of your way in his opinion, to befriend him. It made his heart swell and the ice began to crack, if only slightly. Abbacchio was in no way used to being taken care of or looked after. Bruno certainly did his check-ins, but something about your interactions with him were... different. Not necessarily bad, but it often made Abbacchio uncomfortable, feeling unworthy of your kindness.

Abbacchio was in for the fright of his life when he felt a warm weight fall against his shoulder. He flinched slightly, having drowned out most of the other sounds in the car and getting lost in the landscapes zipping by. Looking down he saw you, cheek pressed against him and sleeping peacefully. He felt a blush creep up his neck and burn the skin on his face, praying to whatever gods would listen for his death to be swift and painless.

“Abbacchio-” Bruno started, stopping short when he turned to see the scene behind him.

While Fugo and Narancia were trying to hit each other over the back of Fugo’s seat, there you and Abbacchio were. You, pressed against his shoulder and sleeping with a content look on your face and Abbacchio, a blush illuminating his pale skin, doing a very poor job of acting unphased. How adorable.

Bruno smirked, raising his voice only slightly, “Abbacchio?”

“Hmm?” Abbacchio responded, refusing to shift his eyes away from the window.

Bruno smirk only grew, reaching back to poke at Abbacchio’s knee, “I didn’t realize it was nap time.”

A hole could not open and swallow Abbacchio up fast enough.

“Shut it, Bucciarati,” he grumbled, pointedly not making eye contact.

The sound of Abbacchio’s voice seemed to capture the attention of the fighting teens, making them stop what they were doing to listen in on the conversation.

“Ooo,” Narancia loudly interjected, “What’s got Abbacchio all worked up?”

“Shh you idiot. They’re sleeping,” Fugo replied, pointing at you.

Bruno’s eyes were still laser focused on Abbacchio, “It’s sweet, that’s all I’m saying. Clearly they’re comfortable enough around you to fall asleep.”

“That’s not-”

Bruno shot his friend a look that screamed, “you and I both know what I’m saying, so you better admit it.”

“Mind your business,” came Abbacchio’s weak reply, finally shifting to narrow his eyes at the capo.

“I’m just saying,” Bruno responded, raising his hands with feigned innocence, “I know you both well enough to put two and two together.”

Abbacchio could barely muster a response, deciding instead to mutter to himself about nosy mafiosos and annoying brats.

The car fell back into relative silence, occasional conversation coming from the backseat as Narancia worked through the implications of Bruno’s comments. 

Abbacchio could feel his own eyes growing heavy, head bobbing up and down as he desperately tried to keep himself awake. He would never live it down if he fell asleep now, but as time went on he felt increasingly powerless against the pull of a nice nap. 

Soon, with his head resting against yours, he fell asleep as well.

“Bucciarati,” Mista hissed, “please tell me you’re gonna get a picture of that.”

[canonicallyanxious]

“i’m really glad i met her.”

Druck | Fatou/Kieu My | 1.3k words

Inspired by the following prompt from anonymous:

kieutou and meeting the parents? (Possibly featuring more of kieu my's mom's cooking?)

-

Slight deviation in that i don’t imagine this as the first time Fatou meeting Kieu My’s parents, but rather what a meeting between them on Tết [Vietnamese Lunar New Year] might look like. hope you enjoy!

[disclaimer: my depiction of Tết in this fic is based on my own experiences and is not meant to be representative of everyone’s experiences. That said my family is from South Vietnam not North Vietnam - where Kieu My’s family is from as far as I can tell - so while i did my best to leave the specific details vague there might still be some inaccuracies. My apologies if this is the case!]

Kieu My seems nervous on the way back to her place. It’s not hard to spot if you know what you’re looking for, and at this point Fatou likes to think she knows quite well. They’re sitting side by side on the bus, shoulder pressed warmly against shoulder and thigh lined up against thigh, and it should be comfortable but there’s a certain way Kieu My’s holding herself, so careful Fatou can feel it from the places where their bodies touch. Fatou takes her hand, squeezes it in an attempt to reassure her; and Kieu My smiles back at her but her leg is still bouncing up and down so Fatou knows it didn’t work, not quite.

Fatou brings Kieu My’s hand up to her mouth and brushes a gentle kiss over her knuckles. “Hey,” she says. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Kieu My shakes her head a little, as if attempting to clear her thoughts. “I just, um… I’ve never done this before.”

Fatou frowns, confused. “I’ve met your parents before.”

“No, I meant…” Kieu My tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking down almost bashfully. “I’ve never brought anyone home for Tết before.”

“Oh.” Honestly Fatou doesn’t fully understand how significant that must be for her. She can’t, really; she didn’t grow up with the Lunar New Year like Kieu My did. But a little over a month ago Fatou’s parents had invited Kieu My over for Christmas Eve and she remembers how overwhelmingly huge it had felt to treat Kieu My as one of her family, even if it had only just been for just a night - and even after nearly a year of being together, months of weekend dinners with her parents and gentle teasing after Fatou came back all flushed and smiling from a date. She can only imagine how Kieu My must be feeling now.

Kieu My glances at her, smiling a little self-deprecatingly. “It’s stupid, isn’t it?”

“No,” Fatou says. “But it does make me feel very special.”

Kieu My lets out a surprised-sounding huff of laughter and knocks their shoulders together. “Don’t let it get to your head, Miss Jallow.”

“Too late,” Fatou says breezily, leaning over to press a kiss to Kieu My’s temple. It’s brief, but it seems to be enough; her shoulders relax against Fatou’s, just a little.

They get to Kieu My’s flat about half an hour before seven in the evening, putting their shoes neatly by the door before fully entering like they always do. It’s bright in here, fresh flowers adorning the side table by the door and all the lights turned on as if the whole place was waiting patiently for their return. From the living room Fatou can hear the faint sound of a Vietnamese program playing from the TV, and though she can’t understand the words by now she easily recognizes the up and down lilt of the voices, enough that the very sound of it feels comfortably familiar to her. 

She likes the way it feels in Kieu My’s home. It’s warm like it always is, not just in the air but also in the smell, vaguely fragrant with an undercurrent of incense smoke beneath it all, and the soft yellow lights, and how much of Kieu My’s family she can see in everything around her. The graceful paintings hanging on the walls; the pieces of old wooden furniture, the age of their surfaces a clear sign of how well-loved they are; the shoes arranged in neat rows by the door. There’s a whole world that lives here between these walls. Fatou never tires of learning about it.

They walk into the kitchen where Kieu My’s mother is standing at the stove. It smells incredible in here, like she’s been cooking all day which according to Kieu My isn’t even that implausible - most years she’ll take a whole day off from working at the store just to prepare for the eve of the Lunar New Year. The dinner they have the night before Tết is one of the most important meals of the year, Kieu My’s said before. 

Her mother looks up with a wide smile as they enter. “Welcome, Fatou! It’s good to see you again.”

“Thank you,” Fatou says as Kieu My walks over to kiss her mother on the cheek. “I’m really glad to be here, dinner already looks amazing.”

Kieu My’s mother beams. “I was so happy when Kieu My said you could come tonight. She should be more like you, more respectful to your elders.” Here there’s a mischievous glint in her eye, and Fatou knows she means it as a joke. Kieu My knows it too, from the roll of her eyes even as she wraps her arms around her mother in an embrace.

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” Kieu My says. “Do you need help with anything, mom?”

“Got it all taken care of,” her mother says, turning back to the stove. “Go get ready for dinner, I think dad will be home soon.”

Kieu My glances at Fatou and raises her eyebrows, a silent question: will you be okay in here?

Fatou smiles slightly, and nods. Visibly reassured, Kieu My leaves the room.

There’s quiet, for a bit. Fatou debates with herself whether she should stay in the room or go wait at the table or offer to help like Kieu My did a few moments before. She doesn’t know what the preferred response would be. In the end her indecision leaves her standing awkwardly in the same place, playing with the hem of her shirt as she tries in vain to think of something to say.

Her silent agitation must be noticeable to Kieu My’s mother even across the room. She glances at her, then down at Fatou’s hands in her shirt. “I like your outfit.”

Fatou looks over at her, a little taken aback. “Oh, thanks.” She pulls at the hem a little self-consciously. “Kieu My told me red’s kind of the color of Tết so… thought I’d dress for the occasion.”

“You look so nice in red,” Kieu My’s mother says with a nod. “Such a warm color against your skin.”

Fatou can feel her cheeks warm. “Thank you.” Strange that that’s the only thing she knows how to say right now.

Kieu My’s mother turns to face her, meeting her gaze steadily. Fatou wasn’t lying before, they have met several times already. But she understands a bit better the nerves Kieu My was feeling earlier, because they’re hitting her all at once now. She knows how much Kieu My values her mother’s opinion, and she knows it’s not for no reason. Her mother is short, shorter even than Fatou, but there’s something in her eyes that seems so sharp and perceptive, so understanding even of all the things Fatou can’t bring herself to say out loud. Almost like she can read her mind - see right through her. It’s a little intimidating.

“Did Kieu My tell you how important Tết is for our family?” she says. “It’s the biggest day of the year for us. Really important for us to be at home together.”

Fatou swallows. “Kind of, yeah.”

She smiles. It makes her eyes soft, and warm.

“It’s good Kieu My brought you home this year,” she says. “It’s only right. We have to greet the new year together, right?”

Something swells up in Fatou’s throat, something she has no name for. Somehow she hadn’t been expecting to hear something like this.

She doesn’t know how to say that out loud. Instead she says, voice a little unsteady, “I would be honored to.”

There’s no answer to that. But the silence doesn’t feel unkind. It’s hard to imagine anything from Kieu My’s mother feeling unkind. Especially not now, when the smile on her face has turned so gentle.

“I…” She falters. Takes in a breath; tries again. “I’m really glad I met your daughter.”

The smile that answers her is so bright, so full of life. Fatou thinks she can see where Kieu My gets it from, just a little.

“Yes,” her mother says. “Me, too.”

[smokinrat]

That’s great! May I get a romantic creepypasta matchup then? Love your writing by the way.

I’m an 18 y/o hetero male btw. So any matchup with any of the creepypasta girls would be recommended.

[Appearance]

• I’m a 5’9 Filipino Male

• I’m quite lanky and skinny in appearance. However, most of my wardrobe contains of hoodies, long-sleeved shirts, sweatpants, and occasionally some really soft shorts that are soft on the inside.

• I’m not the most confident in my skinny stature. Because of this, I mostly wear hoodies for hiding my lanky body. My legs aren’t much of a problem, but my biceps are what I prefer to hide.

• Speaking of clothing, most of my wardrobe consists of dark monochromatic colors. Usually, black, gray, white, and other things (batman moment 😳). If it’s not one of those colors, it would usually just be a more darker shade of another color. Like for example if I’m wearing blue clothes, the blue is usually a very dark shade of blue.

• I have pretty long hair for a guy that’s gotten pointed out a lot. Back in elementary or pre-school, the other kids would mistake me for a girl a lot lol. Now that I’m older, I usually pull it back in a ponytail with a few strands hanging out on my face.

• I also wear these clear-framed glasses pretty much everyday of my life. Surprisingly, I actually think I look pretty good in them, hence why I wear them a lot lol.

• I have a pretty deep voice. Usually whenever I get in any kind of voice chat with someone, their usual first comment is about my voice, expressing how they never expected it to sound so deep. It doesn’t happen as much irl, but I have had my moments where people would have reactions to my deep voice. Aside from my hair, it’s usually one of my most complimented features.

• Speaking if good features, I have a pretty decent jawline. Aside from the others, I’d also say it’s one of my most attractive features

• My eyes are a very dark shade of brown to the point where it looks black.

• My gaze looks pretty tired most of the time. My eyebrows are sometimes furrowed and my mouth is either in a constant straight line or a frown, making me come off as a bit unreadable.

[Personality]

• I’m quite introverted and quiet at first sight. People’s first impression of me is either the dark, scary, and/or menacing looking guy, or a quiet and meek shy guy. I know those impressions are contradicting but people often have their different perspectives of me.

• Despite first impressions, people usually get shocked once I can hold a conversation that I find interesting. I can ramble easily and have noticed that people would often just sit there and not talk while listening to me ramble. Although if the conversation topic doesn’t interest me, I might end up responding with one or two sentences.

• Because of the point above, I can come off a little snobbish and vain. Maybe even a bit arrogant, although that depends on how observant you are.

• I usually have a polite and monotone way of speaking. The snobbish quiet demeanor impression can fade away once people get in a civil conversation with me. I can be cordial and polite, often times focusing on the comfort of the other person I’m conversing with to make sure that they’re comfortable. It’s mostly just me making sure that I’m speaking at a tolerable volume, creating a comfortable distance between me and the other person, and avoiding and leaving certain conversation topics by observing their body language to see how they react to certain things I mention.

• Once you get closer to me, my polite and eloquent way of speaking kind of fades off and is replaced with a more trickster-like behavior. While I do still maintain my quiet boy vibe, I can become more chatty, animated, and a lot more snarky than usual. It comes off as quite the surprise to people who only know my quiet boy side.

• The jokes I pull are usually just clever word-play jokes to get reactions out of people, yo mama jokes, reference jokes to my favorite shows or history, or just jokes in general that you’d expect to come from a nine year old lmao. Sometimes my jokes can get a bit dark but I usually hold back in the middle of saying the said dark joke.

• Furthermore, people discover that I’m actually quite the nerd. Anime, FNAF lore, Creepypasta, Call of Duty, Destiny, my writing plot ideas, etc, are all things I can just pop off in a conversation within a drop of a hat.

• Speaking of writing, I LOVE writing with all my heart. I make tons of OCs and fanfics, and if ever given the chance, I become a full blown chatterbox as I passionately explain my creations in-depth.

• If I’m not watching TV, browsing the Internet, on the computer, then I’m likely brainstorming writing/OC/plot ideas in my head, or writing my fanfics on Wattpad lol. Usually if I get like a really good idea, I often become really jumpy and excited, acting all giddy-like as I ramble about how brilliant my new idea is to anyone nearby or to myself out loud. Sometimes it’s in my head if there’s strangers around, but the excitement can be hard to contain when I get a good writing idea sometimes lol.

• Sometimes, I’ll present my writing in public and ask for constructive suggestions and hope for the best. As much as I hate to admit, I don’t do it often given that I can actually get sensitive pretty easily. Although, I make sure to calm myself down and assure myself that criticisms are beneficial for my improvement in writing.

• One of my bad traits is emotional repression. I tend to neglect my emotions and sometimes other people’s emotions as well. I’m not the best guy for emotional support, but if you do need someone to logically break down your problem to find a solution, then I’m your guy!

• Because of my emotional repression, my anger can come out in a rather explosive way. Often times I’ll just shout violent words with as much anger as I can let out, directing it anybody or anything that triggered the anger episode. It’s an incredibly bad habit, and more often than not, I have ended up hurting people with this tendency as well. I am currently doing my best to find ways to express my anger by not pushing it back to a boiling point, but my struggles leak through here and there.

• To put it short: I first come off as a reserved, introverted, slightly snobbish and monotone guy. However that impression immediately goes away once people see my nerdy, passionate, jokester, and snarky-like behavior.

Omg I’m so sorry this took so long, but thank you for requesting! Just a reminder to everyone that requests are always open, hope you enjoy!

I see you & Clockwork going together, whether that be platonic or romantic

Platonic

You guys would be really close friends, always there for each other no matter the situation. If you happened to be a proxy then I think you two would’ve met after being paired up with each other for a mission (which was more loose ended, so you guys got to crack a few jokes, and Clockwork let down her guard a bit). Afterwards you both went to get something to eat, probably from a drive thru, and sit in some parking lot talking about whatever.

She shares your love for writing, she focuses more on poetry, but loves it nonetheless. One of her things is stargazing, so while you’re waiting for instructions on how/when to go back to the mansion you guys point out constellations, Clockwork seemingly proud of herself for every time she found one. After finishing your food and throwing it away (cause we aren’t litter bugs) she offers going on a drive, nowhere in particular, just a drive around the town while listening to music. She plays her music first, talking about some of the artists while doing so, before asking about any interests you have. The two of you go on and on, swapping stories and anything you have experience with, whether it be good or bad. About 30 minutes go by before you two get a call to come back to the mansion.

Both you and Clockwork go to bed as soon as you reach the mansion, and the next morning you find her in the kitchen, greeting her and starting a conversation. She had asked that you two worked together more often, since you were one of the few people she actually enjoyed being around.

Romantic

Pretty much the same as platonic, but you guys end up having feelings for each other. The relationship would include:

A lot of trust having to be worked in, since the girl has major trust issues (I think every pasta does tbh)

(Trying to) work on any emotional flaws you guys have, but since it’s a relationship that has murder and tragic backstories involved, that might not be the easiest thing for her

Running her fingers through your hair, she’s not a big hand holder, but is up for other versions of physical touch once you guys work up to it

Her shoplifting small gifts for you, that being anything you might want/find interesting

I’m sorry this was short, especially since it took so long for me to write it, my motivation has been on & off while writing, nevertheless I hope you enjoyed.

love you guys ☺︎︎❤︎