#i tried to stick with the canon as much as i could and build their backstories and characters based on the canon material

[amsgrey]

take it slow

Kaz Brekker x Fem! reader

request:

hi love!! could you please do a Kaz Brekker x reader where the reader helps Kaz cut his hair?? maybe it’s super hard for Kaz to do it himself for some reason and he finally lets reader help. they take it really slow tho so kaz is comfortable. thanks 🥰🥰

warnings: not proof-read, canon typical violence, talking of gambling, a whole lot of angsty fluff, Kaz working through his skin aversion/phobia, switches a lot between the reader's pov and Kaz's, I tried to be fancy with the wiring but its meh, mid ending

You sighed, looking out over the bustling tables and colourful clothes that made up the Crow Club. Pigeons and regulars crowd the tables to avoid the pouring rain beyond the doors. Nights like this were freezing, the Ketterdam cold had a way of finding the cracks in buildings. Seeping into homes and putting out fires. Whenever it would get too bad, the Crow Club would get busier. Kaz carefully built the club to be enticing, it was hard to leave the comfort of warmth with weather like tonight.

You were in charge tonight, a steep task seeming the steady stream of people entering the club. Kaz had locked himself in his room at the slat, the last job the crows had gone on went south. Kaz took a bullet to the arm, effectively losing his strength for the foreseeable future. It had made him sourer than usual, he had chewed Jesper out for being careless and letting the job go south.

You looked over at the gunslinger now, sitting at a table with Wylan, the latter trying to stop too much money from being squandered. You had promised to stake him for the night, to make up for the way Kaz had treated him, it was the least you could do. Even so, you still felt the gnaw of guilt watching him at the table. You weren't a fan of gambling, at least not the kind Jesper was. He liked the thrill of the unknown, but he never knew when to stop. At least Wylan was with him now, supervising to be sure Jesper had a good time but not so much that he would regret it.

Nina and Matthias were here tonight as well, they hardly ever stayed around the club, but tonight Nina had convinced Matthias to have a drink and enjoy the night. Inej had been with them at the start of the night but had since slunk off to do what she did best. You hoped Kaz hadn't sent her on any errands tonight, you worried the spider might just get washed off her perch if she was. The steep gables of Ketterdam were treacherous on a clear day, they would be lethal tonight.

You were startled when a shout echoed around the room, the man it came from was clearly unhappy with his hand. He stood from his seat and grabbed the dealer by his collar, shaking and shouting in his face. You rolled your eyes, men who lost at the tables often blamed the dealers for their misfortune. The man yelling had silenced the club, everyone watching as Keeg pushed his way over to the man. Fighting and violence were not allowed in the Crow Club, if you had an issue you took it outside. You watched from the stairs as Keeg seized the man and hauled him away from the tables, tossing him outside into the rain with a terse warning not to stick around. The room was bustling again before the doors even closed.

You climbed down the stairs and headed to where Matthias and Nina were sitting, comfortably tucked into one of the quieter corners of the club. Nina lit up when she saw you, as she always did.

'Are you here to join us?" She asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside her.

You shook your head, "Have you seen Kaz tonight?"

Nina rolled her eyes, "I offered to help him with his arm but he refused." She crossed her arms, "Quite rudely, actually."

You offered her a small smile that felt fake, "Sounds like Kaz."

Nina waved her hand dismissively, taking a sip of her drink.

You turned to look back over the club, knowing you should be focused on the events that transpired here, but being unable to stop your mind wander back to the attic of the slat.

Kaz was not the easiest person to love but you did so anyway. Last night you had tried to offer him comfort, but he had lashed out and left you feeling stupid. You knew he had regretted his words, the moment he said them his eyes gave away his shock. Kaz was all sharp lines and harshness, he had boarded his heart up with cruel words and violent ways. You knew that he would not change at the drop of a hat, but you saw the good in him. The good he spent years burying so deep he couldn't find it himself. So you stayed patient, you gave him space when he needed it. Cautious not to smother him or hasten him when he was not ready. He would let you in, piece by piece until all his walls were gone, and he felt safe with you.

In the last few months since getting closer, Kaz had let you past his defences. He quietly told you small details about himself. How he had grown up outside of Lij, on a farm he had left behind after his father's death. How he was always fascinated with sleight of hand - magic - even as he outgrew childhood. He had even slowly told you about his brother. Only small things, like how he had been 5 years older and had died not long after they came to Ketterdam. You could see how hard it was for him to share those small things, watch him fight with himself about if he should tell you. So in turn, you told him about your own quietly kept secrets. It was a strange transaction, but you could feel the bond between you both strengthening the more you shared in the quiet of Kaz's room.

Nina pulled you from your trance with a hand on your arm, she drew your attention back to the present. You turned to look at her, knowing already she could feel how your heart was racing with worry.

"You should go try again," She said, squeezing your hand.

"I'm meant to be closing."

"We can do it," Matthias replied, "Jesper and Wylan will help."

You looked over to where Wylan and Jesper were, they seemed to feel your eyes on them and they turned and offered smiles.

"Go," Nina urged again, "Before I change my mind and cozy up in bed."

You hugged your friend tight, thanking her and asking her to pass on thanks to Wylan and Jesper.

You forced yourself out the doors before you could dwell too much more on it. Keeg waved you off, letting you know he would keep watch as you were gone.

You shoved your hands into your pockets as you walked, keeping your head down to avoid the rain as much as possible. You walked as quickly as you could, sticking to the side of buildings to avoid getting drenched in the downpour.

As you crossed over the bridge a few blocks away from the slat, Inej fell into step beside you. You were used to the Suli girl appearing at your side, if It were anyone else you would get startled, but Inej was always a comforting presence. Sometimes you felt like she was a saint, the way she watched over you and the crows. You told her this often, reminding her of how appreciative you were to have a friend like her around.

"Kaz hasn't sent you on any jobs tonight has he?"

Inej shook her head, "No."

You let out a breathy laugh, "Then why were you jumping across the rooftops?"

You knew the answer.

"I feel at home on the roofs, it's my own Ketterdam."

You hummed, taking in her answer. Inej told you about the time she spent training on the highwire as a child, how she loved the feeling of being free so high off the ground. She was brave and unwavering like that and you admired her greatly for it.

As you came up on the Slat, Inej disappeared back into the shadows of the night. She would return to the club, or retire to her room, but she enjoyed climbing her way across Ketterdam and you were happy to let her do so.

The slat was mostly quiet when you entered. Anika and a few other Dregs were drinking and conversing quietly as if not to disturb anyone. You knew it was to not bother Kaz. Although Dirtyhands had put in a lot of effort and money into making the slat warm and dry, voices still carried. Most nights you could hear conversations from the bottom floor all the way in Kaz's attic, it was how you knew whenever Jesper got back. He was loud enough to be heard all over the slat.

You started your climb up the stairs, watching your rain-soaked boots take each step with certainty. Although you climbed these stairs multiple times a day, you still felt as if you might trip down them. They were narrow and steep, a recipe for disaster when the rain made your shoes slippery.

Three floors up, you stopped in your room. It was hardly a room and more of a closet, fitting your cot and dresser and not much else. You truly didn't mind, you were right next door to Inej and you only ever came to your room to sleep or change.

You kicked off your boots and stripped off your socks, replacing them quickly with a dry pair to keep your feet warm. You shrugged off your jacket and hung it on the door handle , with any luck it would dry before you would need it again tomorrow. You slipped out of the room and headed back to the stairs to Kaz's room.

Your feet made no sound as you climbed the steps, the silence of your movements allowing you to listen for Kaz in his room. Most of the time you would hear him shuffling through papers, but tonight there was little noise coming from behind the door. As you reached up to knock you prayed he wasn't sleeping.

"Yes?"

You cracked open the door, surprised to find Kaz wasn't sitting at his desk but standing in front of the small mirror in the corner of the room. He had scissors in his good hand, the other shakingly brushing back his hair from his face.

You had noticed how Kaz's hair had gotten much longer lately. The dark strands often blocking his eyes. You knew it drove him crazy, he hated having his hair in his eyes, but he had been too busy to fix it for now.

Kaz shared how he cut his own hair not long ago, you remembered the conversation vividly. He had caught his reflection in the mirror as he washed his hands in the small basin, asking you if you liked his hair.

You had been surprised, Kaz never cared for what others thought of his appearance. You told him the truth, that you loved his hair. Loved how he took time to cut it and try to style it, to you it showed his quiet care. When you asked why he was suddenly concerned, he mentioned how Nina had teased him about it once. It had been a harmless comment, but to him brought back the fact that he feared others touch so much he couldn't bare to let someone else cut it. So it looked rough, uneven in some parts and sometimes much shorter than he intended. You offered to help him when he was ready, but he had yet to take you up on the offer.

"Kaz," You sighed, taking a tentative step forward as if not to startle him. "You should be resting."

Kaz just frowned at his reflection.

His hands were shaking, you noticed. His right hand with the scissors shook so subtly that you might have missed It if you weren't looking. His other hand gripped tight to the side of the basin, as he fought the pain that throbbed down his bicep.

"I can't stand it anymore," Kaz growled, glaring at the hair that kept flopping in his face.

You chuckled, watching the man glower at his reflection with all his barrel brutality.

Crossing the room towards him, you held out your hand, "Let me help."

Kaz stared at your hand like it was foreign. You waited patiently as he had an internal battle. You felt a pang of sympathy when you watched a look of longing pass over Kaz's face. He wanted to let you help, he wanted nothing more than to feel your hands running through his hair with the tender care you always held. But the waters were always there, right below him. If he let you help, they might just swallow him whole.

Finally, Kaz resigned the scissors to you with a sigh.

You smiled at him, "We'll take it slowly." You promised, "If it gets too much, tell me and we’ll stop."

Kaz nodded.

He watched you in the mirror as you stood behind him, assessing what he had already done and what you would do. You knew he liked it a certain way, you spent enough time staring at him to memorize how it always looked. You made eye contact with Kaz in the mirror.

"Ready?"

Kaz nodded, taking in a deep breath.

You ran your hand through his hair, combing it back off his face with your fingers. You could almost feel how Kaz relaxed, his tense shoulders falling just a little. You took it as a good sign, continuing to gently pull his hair away from his face and start cutting.

It was slow going, you paused every few minutes to remind Kaz to breathe and release the tension in his muscles. You had no intention of making him suffer through his flashbacks alone. So you muttered reassuring words, offering to take a longer break or to step back for a moment as he processed. Kaz would shake his head, refusing to let you move away in case he would never feel you close again.

Your body was so warm he could feel it through the shirt on his back. You were always comforting and warm like a fire on a cold day. Kaz sometimes felt himself leaning into the feeling, leaning into you. Getting close to someone after so many years of pushing everyone away was terrifying for him. But he was determined to work through it, to be worthy of the gentleness and care you bestowed on him.

When you were done, you ran your fingers through his hair one last time. Your fingertips brushed against the skin on the back of his neck. Typically, the feeling would repulse him, send him spiralling into the frigid waves, but now he felt warmth grow from where you touched. He let out a sigh, revelling in the peace that he felt at that moment. It had been so long since skin-on-skin contact had made him feel something other than repulsion, he had almost forgotten what it was like.

You stepped back, placing the scissors on the desk and giving him space. You were buzzing with emotions and you feared they might just burst out of you if you stayed too close.

The room was silent, the only sound coming from you and Kaz's quiet breaths. You could feel your heart beating erratically, it pulsated through your body as you tried to steady it. Kaz was staring at your handiwork in the mirror, his hands running through it and feeling how it reacted. After a few tense moments, he turned to you, the smallest of smiles on his lips.

Kaz's smiles were hard to earn. Often, it felt like his only facial expression was the stern frown he always wore. But every now and again, in the safety of these four walls, his eyes would relax and his lips pull upwards.

The first time Kaz had smiled at you, you had felt drunk. You could live in that moment for a million years and never grow sick of it. His smile was so gentle, it warmed you from the inside out. You searched for that feeling everywhere, but it only ever came when Kaz smiled.

You felt hopelessly lovesick now, staring into the eyes of the bastard of the barrel. He was so different within these walls, still sarcastic and ill-tempered at times, but also gentle and caring. When he allowed himself the chance to feel safe, you could see the little boy from Lij who loved magic and games.

"Thank you."

You could only just hear the words over the roar of your heartbeat, offering Kaz a tight-lipped smile and a wave of your hand.

"It's no problem."

You both stayed silent for a little longer, looking everywhere but at each other. You were brimming with butterflies, the same giddy feeling you got when you had your first crush.

Kaz stood from his perch, slowly limping over to you. You waited as he did so, worried a move might break the spell that overcame you both. You fiddled with your fingers, trying to calm the thoughts racing through your mind.

Kaz reached out a gloved hand, holding your hand to stop your anxious habit. You had held his hand before, mostly when he wore his gloves so that he wouldn't get too overwhelmed, but it always made you feel safe. The most dangerous man in all of Ketterdam was not dirtyhands here, he was Kaz, gentle and loving.

You watched silently as Kaz pulled his hand away and slipped his gloves off. You knew that he preferred to take things slowly, he needed to take things slowly. You were in no rush, you had all the time in the world for the man before you.

Kaz's hands were still shaky, trembling ever so slightly as he reached for you again. He slowly raised his good hand to your face, hesitating before making contact. His eyes held a question, asking kindly for your permission. You accepted with a small nod, unable to help the tiny smile on your lips. Kaz's hand was colder than you were expecting as he cupped your cheek, you were sure he would be able to feel how hot you were. His slender fingers sat against your jawline, his thumb feathering across your cheekbone, like he was exploring your face. You subconsciously leaned into his hand, closing your eyes and letting a sigh slip from your lips. You could live here forever, in this safety and warmth, tucked away from the prying eyes of Ketterdam.

Kaz took a shaky breath in and you pulled away, startled that you might have pushed him too far. He only smiled, taking a small step forward and keeping his hand on your cheek. You could feel his breath on your skin now, the ghosting of his fingers. It almost felt like a dream. Kaz leaned in a little closer, your foreheads almost touching. His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes and back.

Kaz wanted nothing more than to close the gap between you and press his lips to yours. You were so warm, your face tucked into his hand like it was made to be held by him. Your breath tickled his skin, it reminded him how you were here, alive. Saints, if he could just lean forward and-

All at once the water was snatching him under. The feeling of your skin turning cold and deathly. He lurched back, holding in his gags of disgust as the freezing waters overtook him.

"Kaz?"

He fell backwards, scrambling to put space between you both as he choked on the waters.

You could only watch as Kaz scrambled away from you, unable to do anything to stop him. He pulled himself as far away from you as he could, becoming a mess of shaking and shuddering breaths. He was panicking, the anxiety and fear clearly written across his features. It hurt, you wanted to help him but you feared you might only make it worse.

You knew you wouldn't be able to leave him in such a state, hyperventilating on the floor of his room. So you slowly lowered yourself to the ground, a good meter away from him to not suffocate him.

"I'm here, Kaz," You said softly, watching over him, "You're safe."

He took another few shuddering breaths, but they were slower than the last. You took it as a sign to keep going.

"Take it slow," You spoke just above a whisper, "I'm not going anywhere."

You stayed a safe distance away as Kaz calmed down, watching over him and offering quiet reassurances as he slowly came to himself. When the panic was gone from his eyes, it was replaced with guilt. You knew how hard it was for Kaz to touch skin, you didn't know exactly why, but you didn't mind taking things slow for him.

You cut Kaz before he could say he was sorry, "It's okay."

Kaz reached for his gloves and shoved them on, "It's not."

You shuffled a little closer, "Kaz." The boy looked up at you with his dark eyes, "Truly, it's alright. I will wait for you. If it takes days, weeks or years, I will be here."

Kaz's eyes were glossy, you had never seen him cry but perhaps this was the closest he ever got.

"You, Kaz Brekker, are worth waiting for."

Kaz looked down, "Rietveld."

It caught you entirely off guard, "What?"

Kaz slowly lifted his eyes to yours, "My real name is Kaz Rietveld."

Your face burst into a bright grin, "Well, Kaz Rietveld, it's nice to meet you."

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 12

content warning: Miguel is very dramatic in this one, mentions of food

word count: 4k (SHOUTOUT TO MY BETA!! @slushycoookie 🩵)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

DISCLAIMER: This story is not canonical. 😒 Most, if not all, of the characters used are OOC. I literally can not stress this enough.

GymRat!Miguel who tries not to dwell on the fact that it’s been just about a month since he’s seen you. It’s the middle of the week and if he thinks about it too much, he’s going to go crazy.

It feels odd because you’re on the same campus as him. You’re not across the country. You’re not out of the country. You’re literally a short walk or drive away and neither of you have time to see each other.

He’s considering printing your pictures out and walking around with them like a forlorn lover looking for his lost soulmate. It feels like he’s back in his bedroom staring at your pictures for hours like a man at war aching for home.

He’s exhausted all of his options.

The couple-lunches have all been rain-checked, the weight of your workload trapping you in the Art building.

Your sleep schedule was terrible, if the late night TikToks and reels were anything to go by. He knew you had morning classes too so he could only assume you’ve had a few hours of sleep during the weeknights.

The weekends were for rest and he didn’t want to disrupt yours.

Your dorm tracked visitors which means he’d only have a few hours with you before curfew if you were even there.

GymRat!Miguel who misses you so bad he’s temporarily replaced his gym playlist for the one you gifted him.

His face is set hard, feet heavy as he sprints over a curved treadmill. After a few minutes he stops, takes a small break, and runs again.

Even the melodic and somber voice playing over a groovy piano couldn’t soothe his thoughts.

His heart rammed in his chest as sweat trickled down his face, his tank drenched and clinging to his chest.

Just a few more sprints to go.

GymRat!Miguel who slides the ear of his headphone off because Xina is standing in front of him, blocking his path.

“Anymore sprints and you’re going to pass out,” she hands him a towel.

“Maybe I want to,” Miguel grumbles, nabbing the towel and rubbing his face like someone spit on it.

Xina grabbed her ponytail and pinned it up, loose hair sticking to her neck. “Don’t say that. It’s not funny. I can only manage pulling your body to the entrance to the gym.”

Miguel snorted.

GymRat!Miguel who fills up the time that he used to spend with you to get to know his friends and meet others.

This meant having game nights with Peter and Ben. They were so close, not really, to convincing him to join their DND parties.

If he wasn’t with them, he was occasionally calling The Geek Squad and catching up. A Friendsgiving date was now tentatively on his calendar because of it.

Of course, his robotics team was still going steady. Aaron was interesting, if nothing else, and Margo was like the little sister he never had.

Then, there was checking up on Gabriel like a Tamagotchi. Was he eating ok? Did he need some money? Is he trapped in the subway? Did a rat eat him?

Gabriel had sent him a screenshot of his contact with his name being changed to “Mom #2.”

Miguel only scoffed and told Gabriel his name was going to get changed to “pain in my ass.”

The newest development, however, was Xina. Her transferring here felt like middle school when they used to be attached at the hip.

They had their programming class together two days out of the week, biweekly study sessions, and the occasional late night excursion.

It also explains why she’s eyeing him from the stairmaster while he heaves over the handles of the treadmill.

GymRat!Miguel who thanked Xina as she handed him his jug of water. He sat up from the bench to let her take a seat.

“So,” she started.

“I’m not helping you hack your professor’s dashboard. While you could do it, it’s not a good idea and quantum physics isn’t that-“

“It’s not that, you dick,” Xina pinched his side. “It’s you. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing is up with me.”

“Miguel.”

“Xina.”

“Now, you’re being a brat. Something is definitely wrong.”

Miguel picked at the peeling Game Over sticker on his bottle. He needed to tape it down or he’d lose it.

“I miss her.”

“Miss who? Your mom?”

“What? No. I miss my girlfriend.”

It was quiet between them, the sound of chatter and the clanking of equipment filled the white noise.

Xina tilted her head, “That bad?”

Miguel nods.

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

He takes a dramatic breath, “Our anniversary date. Last month. I feel…”

“Like you can’t function? Like it’s hard to think?”

“Is that pathetic?” Miguel winces. “I have a feeling you’re going to say that it is.”

“No, I don’t think that.”

Miguel pouts as he looks up. Xina shrugs and slides her hands on down her leggings.

“Remember the times I went boy crazy? All the times I came crying to you after they screwed me over, even when you already warned me they weren’t good guys? I think you deserve to be crazy about your girlfriend.”

“Thanks,” Miguel blinked. “You were way too nice to those first guys.”

“I learned though, didn’t I? I know a good guy when I see him, now,” Xina pushed at Miguel’s shoulders with hers.

“And now those self-defense lessons won’t go to waste, right?”

Xina snorted as she recalled the time she managed to flip Winston on his back at Miguel’s instruction.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Xina’s eyes grow in shock when he tells her how long he’s been dating you.

“Dang,” Xina stops in her tracks. “A year?”

Miguel puffs up his chest and stands a little straighter, a confident stride in his step, “One year and counting.”

“That’s,” Xina turns and waits for a car to go by. She readjusts her gym bag. “That’s awesome, Hare-Hare.”

GymRat!Miguel who feels the mood shift by the time he drops Xina back off. He’s not sure what’s brought it up, but now he’s nervous about upsetting her more.

He taps on the wheel, after he pulls into a park.

“You sure you don’t want me to get you anything? You don’t need to go anywhere?”

Xina unbuckles her seatbelt, “Nope. All good. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he watches her close the door before he can even finish. “See you.”

GymRat!Miguel who obliges when Xina texts him the next day to switch up their study session location.

Miguel wanted to keep the busy calm of the 1st floor of the library but Xina insisted on giving him a change of scenery.

“It’s good for you! You stare at the screen all day when you’re coding,” Xina slams Miguel’s car door to which he sneer at her for. “You need to look up and smell the coffee sometimes.”

“You just want a reason to not do your work.”

Xina turns around and walks backwards in front of Miguel, “And that’s completely fine. We should live a little.”

She trips over the edge of the sidewalk with a yelp and Miguel is quick to catch her, the panic on his face evident.

“See,” she grins as she pulls herself up by Miguel’s shoulders. “Living!”

GymRat!Miguel who lets Xina order for him while he finds a table.

The cafe was bright, white wood accenting the walls with vines and plants adorning the area. Salmon pink brought a pop of color to the sandy-looking tables and fairy lights hung in the corners of the room.

Miguel’s eyes grew as he saw the variety of desserts on display, his mouth itching to take a bite.

“No, no, no. Go away. I’ll pick something you’ll like,” Xina blocks Miguel’s lingering eyes.

Miguel clicks his teeth, “If it’s not good, I’m going to be really upset.”

“I doubt it.”

GymRat!Miguel who walks deeper into the cafe. He’s dodging ceiling plants left and right, but he’s sure that the best seats are in the furthest of the building.

He shuffles around a corner, eyes adjusting to the sun coming through window.

He blinks a few times and takes in the spacious area.

That’s when he sees you.

He walks fast, the strides of his steps wide.

The closer he gets, the stronger the smell of peaches builds. The sun was shining down like it granted Miguel one the greatest gifts of his life. Its rays danced across the spot that you're in.

He gets to your chair and pulled it out with ease, the sound disrupting the hushed corner.

A pen falls to the floor, voices are cut short, and arms are flailing but Miguel’s nose is buried deep into your neck.

Your arms tighten around his neck and your voice skips across his ears.

“I-” a kiss across your face, “missed you so much.” Miguel looks at you like you hold the stars in the sky within your palm.

“You scared the shit out of me, Miguel,” you say with no really malice in your voice. Your thumbs run across his cheeks, watching as he beams at you. You kiss him once or twice, heart fluttering as your feet dangle in the air.

“I hope there aren’t many people picking you up in the middle of establishments,” Miguel mumbled across your lips.

“Guys, there’s people staring at us,” a voice creeps in from the side of Miguel.

Miguel’s eyes follow it to see a deer-looking kid with hoodie pulled up over his ears.

“Who is this?”

GymRat!Miguel who is introduced to Miles, your freshman classmate that you’ve taken in.

He’s sitting across the table nodding along to you as you rave about Miles’ work. The entire time, his right hand didn’t leave your left one.

“So,” Miguel chimes in when there’s a pause. “Have you both been coming here a while?”

“Nah, I just dragged her out here recently. She never leaves the art building when a deadline is near. It’s kind of depressing-“

“You know, Miles.” You're holding back an eye roll. “There are times when you could just not talk.”

“No, actually tell me more,” Miguel insisted, attentive.

GymRat!Miguel who hurries to help a struggling Xina when she rounds the corner with a tray full of goodies.

A cinnamon roll, a lemon tart, a tall purple drink, and some warm tea is placed on the table while you and Miles clear the area.

You sit up straighter to watch Miguel pick up the tea cup and blow over it. “Tea? No milk with a pinch of coffee?”

“Amor…”

Xina looks over to his cup, “Did you want something else?”

“No, this is good, I haven’t had this in a while,” he takes a sip and hums while explaining to you. “I’ve been on this sweet drink kick since she let me try her frappe last year.”

“That’s rich because you always hated it when I got those.”

“To be fair, you downed like four of those in one day. I’m surprised your body didn’t go into shock.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Four in one day must have meant you were going through it.”

Xina smiles and nods her head, “Exactly. And I told him-”

“We’re not doing this,” Miguel grumbled and stabbed his fork into his roll. “Four was way too much and she was bouncing off the walls all day just to crash and throw up on my shoes.”

“I said I was sorry about that!”

GymRat!Miguel who cuts pieces of his dessert to feed to you. You look at him incredulously as he insists on giving you bite after bite.

“Is it good?” Miguel asks chewing his own piece. You nod and he grins, happy in the bubble he’s created.

When Xina reaches for his plate for a piece he slides it away with ease, a move he knows too well.

“Why can’t I have some? I bought it.”

“You didn’t even ask!”

“Neither did she!”

Miles leans over to you, “I feel like I’m watching a fight between me and my baby sister.”

Miguel is pushing Xina’s hands away from his plate while she laughs up a storm. You think that it does mirror something like Gabriel and Miguel’s relationship, but something about Miguel isn’t the same.

GymRat!Miguel who continues his Tom and Jerry act with Xina even when the food is gone.

They were bickering over some formula that you couldn’t begin to figure out by yourself. To Miguel, it’s easy. To Xina, the setup makes no sense.

“How did you survive Ivy League without me?” Miguel asks as he reaches over and erases an error on her page.

“Like I do anything else, with peace.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Miguel points his pencil at Xina, “you hate me and I am not needed for problems 4 through 10.”

“No!” she panics, pushing his pen back to the paper. “I need you to start this one. I don’t understand it.”

“We just did one like this, though. It’s just the imaginary number all over again.”

Xina groaned and slumped in her chair while Miguel just turned back to his on work.

GymRat!Miguel who peers up from his computer to watch you work. You eyebrows pinch as your wrist moves across the large sketchpad in front of you. Your hand is moving fast and you’re so focused. Miguel hasn’t seen you like this before. In your element.

He leans his head on his hand, cheek squished and staring at you like he’s never seen you, like you were something to be admired.

You were pretty today, a sweater with some cartoon on it and some jeans that flared out at the bottom. Your bunny necklace was dangling around your neck and your glasses were falling down your nose.

You push them back and a smudge of charcoal from moving Miles’ artwork gets on your cheek.

“Stare at her any harder and she might grow something freaky,” Miles whispers.

Miguel falters and grabs a napkin, leaning to wipe your cheek, “She has something on her face.”

GymRat!Miguel who tries to be even more discreet as he watches you fill up the page. It’s mesmerizing seeing what you come up with.

He’ll type a little bit then look at your sketches, he’ll click a few links then look at your face. Sometimes, you would catch him looking and smile at resulting in his heart picking up.

Occasionally, Miles would ask your opinion on something and you would give him pointers, the two of you discussing something about focal points and rule of threes.

Miguel just wanted to put his stuff up and listen to you all day.

“What are you working on?” Xina asks, her voice breaking the silence. She’s staring directly at your drawings, fingers tapping against her notebook.

You perk up and flip your pad around, “It’s some ideas for one of our bigger projects! The theme is reinventing a classic, so I’m thinking something like a spin on Lady Godiva with a haunted theme and darker palette. Or The Fallen Angel with a bird’s eye perspective of him on the ground.”

You took a breath and flipped the page, “And then there’s The Kiss which I wanted to actually do a glaze to really give it that ‘mosaic’ look.”

Miguel leaned in with Xina to take a closer look.

The sketch was exceptional to say the least. Miguel wasn’t too sure how the original painting looked, but your drawing detailed a woman wrapped in these angular, moving shapes. Her face was angled up and a far-off look adorned her features. To her right sat a man whose lips were on her neck and his attention solely on her.

It was soft, yet strong. How you managed to put so much intimacy onto a single page was beyond him.

The feeling of it was familiar and when he looked up at you, he knew.

Miguel opens his mouth, “It’s..”

“Boring.”

“Beautiful.”

He turns to Xina with a frown on his face as she flips back to the front page.

“I mean, I think one of the other two is better, you know? More of a twist on the originals. The last one feels safe.”

The table is quiet as Xina’s comment marinates. She’s flipping further into your book and Miguel promptly snatches it from her and closes it a bit harder than he needs to. Miles shifts in his seat, chewing on the straw of his drink.

“Can you explain why it feels safe to you?” your fingers pick at a nail.

She looks up, “Well, don’t you want to stand out? Out of the others, I don’t think this one is that unique.”

“The point isn’t to stand out,” Miles chimes in. “The assignment is about remixing a classic and all three of these do that pretty well.”

Your smile is small, “Thanks, Miles.”

“So which one do you think is better?” Xina asks.

“The last one,” both Miles and Miguel say.

“It carries the emotion of the original while also bringing more focus to couple rather than the abstracted cloth. You can see the love between them in a way that the original doesn’t have and it’s not even painted yet,” Miles talks with ease. “But! That’s just my opinion.”

“I think it’s powerful,” Miguel hums. “You should go with that one.”

You nod, thumbing over the corner of the pages.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Miles nearly fly out of the cafe.

Something about catching the bus to go see a friend perform.

“Poor thing,” you mumble. “He didn’t even buy the tickets yet.”

GymRat!Miguel who can almost see the stress coming off of you in waves the later it gets in the evening.

“Are you alright?” Miguel places his hand over yours.

“Yeah, I think I need a nap.”

“Need me to drive you back?”

“No, it’s fine. You need to drive Xina back.” You start to pack up. “I brought my car anyways.”

Miguel follows your movements, hands putting his laptop up as well.

He hurries to pull your chair out and you thank him with a quiet voice. He follows you from the table to the door to your car. The scene is almost comical the way he’s in your peripheral.

“Will I see you again soon?” Miguel leans on the hood of your car, body practically falling onto you in the driver’s seat. “We gotta set up a date.”

“I’ll see what I can do, baby,” you rub his face and kiss the kicked-puppy look off of his face. “I’ll text you once I get back.”

“Please.”

GymRat!Miguel who throws his backpack in the backseat and slumps over the wheel once he’s certain your car was down the road.

“What now?” Xina patted Miguel’s back. “You miss her again?”

Miguel just dug his head onto the horn, the effect alerting anyone within 50ft radius.

“Ok, ok,” Xina yanked him up by his shoulders only for him to drop back down again. She sighs and grabs the back of his head with a slight yank to his hair.

Miguel swats her hand away with a grit to his teeth and a pinch to his brows.

Xina only holds her hands up with a grin lining her lips, “Calm down.”

“You’re really annoying me today.”

Xina drops her hands and her smile falters. Miguel straightens up with an apology on the roof of his mouth before Xina picks back up with joy.

“What I think you need is an awesome rager for your birthday.”

“No.”

“Why not? It could be fun!”

“I’m all partied out until next year.”

“Not even with your friends? People from your department? A couple of classmates? The robo nerds?”

“That’s robo rockstars to you.”

Xina laughed and buckled her seatbelt.

“I think it could be great, seriously. We’re doing it.”

Miguel only groaned and turned on the ignition.

GymRat!Miguel who wanted to use his Sunday for relaxation, a cheat day, maybe a game or two with Gabriel, Peter, and Winston.

Instead, he’s lying on his bed listening to Xina rant about one of her roommates using the sink as a trash can.

“Like we have a ridiculously expensive trash can that’s less than a foot away from the sink. It’s a simple spin and drop.”

“Ok, I get this is really gross, but don’t you have other friends you could bother?”

Xina pauses, and points her finger at him, “Hey, I’m here to help you out. If I wasn’t here, who knows how down in the dumps you’d be.”

“This isn’t helping me.”

GymRat!Miguel who answers his phone while Xina has managed to pull Peter into a game of Overcooked on his Switch.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Miguel! How do I connect your father’s computer to the TV? He found a movie that we could watch but the screen is so small.”

“He found a movie but can’t connect cords?”

“Just answer the question, mijo.”

Miguel sits up, prepared to spend at least forty minutes trying to explain what an HDMI cord is.

“Yeah.”

Xina gasps, pauses the game leaving a displeased Peter, and hops into the corner of Miguel’s phone.

“Hi, Mrs. O’Hara!”

“Hola, mi dulce niña! Hace mucho que no te veo. ¿Que tal te ha ido?“ (Hello, my sweet girl! I haven’t seen you in a long time. How have you been?)

“Más o menos, pero me alegro de verte.” (So-so, but I’m happy to see you.)

“No, Xina! ¿Qué tienes?” (What’s wrong?)

Miguel just plopped the device in Xina’s hand, “I like how you both started a conversation on my phone.”

“We’ve got important things to discuss,” Xina waved him off while she and his mother continued to fawn over each other.

Miguel just slid off the bed and joined Peter.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t get his phone back until curfew hours are around the corner.

Xina and his mom discussed everything from reality TV to recipes to her time up north. Xina left happier than when she came in which Miguel didn’t mind. He just wished he could have had the room to himself.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t see your message until he’s about to go to sleep.

“Baby”

“Let’s do something together on your bday”

Miguel unpeeled his eyes and typed swiftly.

“YES”

“YEESSSS”

“Best birthday ever already”

“Someone’s excited”

“I haven’t even said what we’re doing yet”

“What are we doing”

“Tell me please”

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease”

“Mmm”

“No”

“It’s a secret 🙂‍↔️”

“I can wait”

“That you are”

“Sometimes”

“��”

“But mi luz I think Xina is trying to plan something too”

“Oh”

“Should we raincheck then?”

“NOOOOOO!”

“I can do both”

“I’ll literally split myself in two”

“You don’t have to choose”

“My gift is small”

“I want you to have fun on your special day”

“Can you come to the party?”

“I don’t want to miss it but I’ll have to see”

“If anything it’ll be much later”

“As long as I get to see you I’ll be happy”

“Good night bebé”

“Night!”

"Love you"

“Love you more"

divider by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: I have no notes other than school is starting back up so my posting schedule will be even more irregular. 🤠 Please bear with me.

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[reason-with-the-underdog]

you were not mine to save -> to be loved is to be changed

i keep thinking about how

if you boil down alhaitham & kaveh's akademiya-era fallout fight, it was that alhaitham wanted to change kaveh & kaveh could never agree with his proposed course of action

but now, as full grown adults, alhaitham isnt trying to change kaveh anymore

that core conflict does reoccur, as it did during Parade of Providence when alhaitham lectured kaveh after Act II & kaveh got annoyed

(even though Alhaitham was obviously just worried about kaveh's health/wellbeing...)

this is a common pattern of behavior for them: alhaitham is worried about kaveh & kaveh reacts defensively to it

which speaks to how stubborn & hyper-independent kaveh is

despite being someone who's dedicated to giving back to the community and contributing towards the larger social good, he's quite determined on his own path in life

he'll bear the consequences (ie bankruptcy) all by himself if necessary...! and he's much too stubborn to be talked out of his own decisions

i dont think there was any possible way kaveh could have walked away from the wrecks of the first build of alcazarzaray and still be at peace with himself

and kaveh even admits he was naive (in his teapot dialogue), but he doesnt regret it still even now

so i think its cool alhaitham realised that there's no point in trying to convince kaveh to change who he is

such is kaveh. kaveh will not be someone different, not even for alhaitham. his work & altruism are parts of his core identity

why fight a mountain who will not be moved?

instead, alhaitham goes for more "harm reduction" strategies:

help cover kaveh's bar tabs, which means he's also the one lambad calls to pick up kaveh & see kaveh home safely

snark at kaveh when he's ranting about clients to keep him in a righteous mood instead of getting depressed

there's a quote about how to be loved is to be changed....

and alhaitham certainly has changed so much from that smart-mouthed student who had pinpointed what he thought was the root of kaveh's overbearing altruism and figured he could fix kaveh's problems with that knowledge!

to now as an adult with a lot more life experience: alhaitham knows that kaveh isn't his to save

and the more he tries to force kaveh to changing, the more likely kaveh is to dig his heels in

alhaitham doesnt need to be kaveh's minder or overbearing best friend--

he wants to be kaveh's partner, his equal, which means respecting kaveh's choices for what they are

anyways kaveh's drowner analogy works rly nicely for this core conflict between them (changing people vs supporting them and protecting them from harm)

& i cant believe its canon

i really appreciate this aspect of their relationship too-- it feels very mature & realistic...

how easy it would be if you could just TELL someone how to fix their problems!

its very frustrating to see someone you care about run straight towards problems again & again...

but you can't change someone's mind bc you want it to be that way. they have to decide on their own, on their own volition, and to truly believe in their decision, for the changes to really stick

as much as it sucks that you can't just solve people's problems for them

the human experience is so much richer for all of our different perspectives and ideas and principles that will not be compromised bc someone else wanted it to be

you can't control people's thoughts & that's for the best (also alhaitham's SQ is literally about this lmao)

[dindjarindiaries]

Rush

summary: You and Hunter have to make a risky escape when the end of a mission goes sideways, though even an exit gone wrong has a bright side.

pairing: sergeant hunter (tbb) x reader

tags: canon-typical violence, light angst, kissing/sexual themes, fluff

rating: T

word count: 3.478k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

Thunder crackled overhead, and no later did you start feeling the droplets of rain that ricocheted off the trees surrounding you. With a huff, you tried in vain to press yourself harder against the rough bark, as if the canopy of leaves would somehow give you cover from the oncoming storm. “Great,” you muttered. “This is just what we needed.”

“At least it’ll cool us off,” Hunter offered, tilting his helmet as he kept his blaster lifted in his hand. He spoke without moving from his post, which happened to be the tree across from yours.

You raised an amused eyebrow at him. “Ever the optimist.”

Hunter chuckled. “I’m trying my best.” He touched his fingers against his helmet and spoke into the comms. “Time’s winding down, Echo. How close are you two?”

“We’ve nearly got it,” Echo responded. “I’ve gotten access, but Tech just has to decrypt a few more sequences.”

You and Hunter watched another patrol of guards stroll around the corner of the safehouse Echo and Tech had snuck into. It was the third you had seen in the past ten minutes, which confirmed their suspicions were rising. Your squad had over welcomed their stay.

“There’s a third patrol group,” you warned them.

“Make that four,” Wrecker added. “Omega and I see a new group, too.”

You and Hunter shared a cautious look. His finger tapped his blaster a few times before he spoke into the comms again. “Tech?”

“Thankfully, I work well under pressure.” The tapping of Tech’s fingers along his datapad could be heard in the background of his comm. “All of Cid’s requested intel has at last been decrypted and uploaded. I must say, I find it utterly intriguing that she—.”

“Is this relevant, Tech?” Hunter’s tone was short with concern, not anger.

Tech’s sigh was audible over the comms. “I suppose it can wait. Echo and I are making our exit now.”

“Great.” With that, Hunter lowered his blaster, though he kept it close. You did the same with your own as you kept your keen eye on the latest patrol. Tech and Echo were getting out the same way they got in, and you and Hunter were closest to that exit point. Your focus would guarantee their safety.

As the rain turned into a downpour, however, it was harder to see. You squinted and blinked a few times when raindrops cascaded from your brow down to your lashes, eventually raising your arm to your eyes in a vain attempt to dry them. Your clothes had already started to stick to your soaked skin.

“You okay over there?” Hunter’s voice was yet again full of concern as you lowered your arm to look at him.

“I’m fine.” You offered him a nod for further reassurance. “You’re just lucky you have a helmet.”

Hunter began to raise his hands to the sides of his helmet. “You can have it if you need it.”

Warmth that was much more welcome than the tropical planet’s humidity swelled inside your chest as you shook your head. “That’s sweet, honey, but I’ll be fine.”

Hunter lowered his hands and nodded. His visor returned to the sight of the building in the distance even as he continued to speak to you. “I like it when you call me that.”

You chuckled to yourself. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s…”

Hunter trailed off, causing you to look from the blurry view of Echo and Tech’s exit point over to him. His entire body was tense as his visor looked just beyond you, and it became apparent that his senses had alerted him to something new. You furrowed your brow and prepared to ask him about it when you heard the sound of a growl just behind you.

“Sunny.” Hunter’s voice was a low and worried warning. “Don’t move.”

You slowly turned your head over your shoulder and felt your heart leap into your throat. There was a creature at least twice your size standing just behind you, a four-legged beast with long talons and two rows of eyes. It flashed its massive teeth at you as it growled once again.

Your panicked instincts took over, but before you could act out on them, Hunter lunged over to muffle your scream and keep you in place. His gloved hand absorbed the sound as his other arm wrapped around your waist. “Don’t. Move.”

You tried to control your breathing as your gaze stayed locked on the creature’s, but the louder it growled at you, the more difficult that task became. It took a step closer, and you gripped Hunter’s arm and wrist, lowering his hand from your mouth. “Hunter…”

“I’m watching.” His own steady breaths guided yours as his armored chest rose and fell behind you. For a moment, you really thought it would be okay.

Then, the creature roared, and Hunter raised his blaster and shot it so fast that it was nothing more than a flash in your memory.

Keeping his arm on your waist for a moment, Hunter tugged you away, leading you in a new direction. “Come on!”

You snapped back into battle mode as you diligently followed him. “Where are we going?”

“We can’t evade this thing on foot,” Hunter insisted, guiding you through the trees as the creature followed. You didn’t need Hunter’s enhanced senses to know it was only getting closer and closer. “I saw some speederbikes by the other exit point.”

“Won’t they see us stealing their equipment?”

Hunter gave his helmet a tilt even as he ran. He continued to raise his voice above the sound of the storm. “I have a feeling they already know we’re here.”

Then came the first blaster shot. You ducked down and glanced to your right, seeing the patrol group from earlier taking their aim at you and Hunter. “Oh, great! Another thing to avoid!” You fired back at them, though the attempt was pointless as the downpour blurred their distant images. “I could really use some of that optimism right about now!”

“Just stay close!” Hunter also fired back some shots at the patrol, which was thankfully composed of some poor shooters. He artfully dodged each tree and other obstacle as he led you forward, and soon, he was pointing at something ahead of him. “Here!”

You saw the outline of the speederbike just before Hunter hopped onto it. He waited until you had fallen in place behind him to push it forward, but even with the sound of its loud engine and the pouring rain around you, you could hear the other bikes following you in close pursuit. “We’ve got company!”

“Hold on!” Hunter took a sharp right, causing you to tighten your grasp on his middle for stability. Once he had straightened the bike out again, you reached back with your blaster and started to take aim at your pursuers.

“What’s causing that blaster fire?” Echo asked over the comms. “It’s impossible to see anything in this storm.”

“We’re in a bit of a situation,” you informed the squad, taking another few shots before holding tight to Hunter as he banked left. “We’re handling it, though. Did you get out okay?”

“Echo and I have rendezvoused with Wrecker and Omega,” Tech answered. “We are en route to the ship.”

“We’ve got a patrol hot on our trail,” Hunter managed to say even as he steered the bike. “We’re not heading back to the ship until we lose them.”

“Do you want some help?” Wrecker asked, and his tone revealed his desire to see some action.

“Negative, Wrecker.” Hunter paused as he went right, and you nearly lost your grasp on him thanks to how slick his armor had become. He set a hand over yours to keep it secure. “I don’t want them knowing there are more of us. Just get the ship ready to go.”

“You’ve got it, Sarge.”

“Be careful!” Omega’s genuine request managed to make you smile even as you blasted a few more times. None of your shots were landing, thanks to how hard the downpour was making it to aim. To make matters worse, they were firing their own shots, and you were just barely managing to dodge them thanks to your exposed position.

“I can’t see anything in this rain!” You ducked as a blaster bolt nearly grazed both your heads. “My shots are useless!”

Hunter, of course, only needed a moment or two before his quick thinking began. “I have an idea.” He paused to go around a tree, and you held on tight to keep yourself from slipping. “We’re gonna switch.”

Your eyes widened as you gave him a once-over. “How?”

Hunter spoke without once looking away from where you were going. “I’m gonna lean left, and you lean right. I’ll maneuver myself behind you, and once we’re both settled, you’ll take the handles from me. Okay?”

You took a deep breath. “Do you trust me to pilot in this downpour?”

Hunter’s response was genuine as he offered you a quick glance. “I trust you with my life, Sunny.”

You smiled as your determination set in. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Hunter nodded. “On the count of three.” He tightened his grip on the handles. “One… two…” Hunter took one more hard turn and then leveled the bike back out. “Three!”

As Hunter lifted himself up and leaned to the left, you leaned right and pushed yourself forward, tucking yourself under his arm. Hunter’s right leg swung off the front of the bike and fell in place behind you, and in just a few seconds, he was seated behind you. You wrapped your hands around the handles to take them from Hunter, and he let go once you were in full control.

“There you go.” Hunter wrapped his left arm around you for stability and drew his blaster with his right. “See? Easy.” He gave you a gentle squeeze before he focused on shooting.

“Yeah, don’t speak too soon.” You smirked to yourself as you banked left and then right, causing Hunter’s grasp on you to tighten.

“Are you trying to throw me off this thing?” Hunter’s tone was laced with amusement as he fired a few blaster bolts.

Your mischievous grin widened. “I thought you said you trusted me.”

“I do.” Hunter paused to focus on aiming for a few moments. “But I still wouldn’t put it past you to make it hard on me.”

“Considering you’re the one who’s responsible for keeping us alive right now,” you gritted your teeth as you swerved around two trees, “these are purely circumstantial challenges.”

“Lucky for you, I can handle it.” No later did you hear Hunter’s blaster go off, followed by the sound of a speederbike crashing. “We’ve only got two left.”

You revved the bike and pushed it forward even faster, causing Hunter to grunt with surprise as he held on tighter. You racked your brain for a new strategy as you artfully dodged each obstacle in your path. “Okay, I’m gonna make a hard left,” you told him. “That should give you a good shot at the pilot on our left.”

Hunter nodded, a movement you could sense as he kept shooting to distract them. You waited until you were headed full-speed at a tree to turn the handles and brake left, causing your bike to be perpendicular to the path of the others. All it took was two shots from Hunter’s blaster to incapacitate the second driver, leaving you with one more left to go.

Hunter’s modulated voice was warm as he spoke. “If I had known you were this good at piloting a bike, I would’ve had you hop on first.”

You chuckled to yourself and tried to ignore the heat that rushed to your face at his praise. “That’s nice of you to say, but we’re not done yet.” You glanced over your shoulder to see the bike gaining speed on you. “Got any ideas?”

Hunter kept shooting, and each new shot proved this pilot wasn’t going down as easy as the others did. “Not really. This one’s tough.” He pressed himself against you when a blaster bolt flew over your shoulders. “We might just have to try to lose them.”

You wove around another tree, and the movement alone gave you a new plan. “I’ve got something.” You flexed your wrists to increase your speed. “Holster your blaster and hold on tight, Sergeant.”

Hunter didn’t hesitate to obey your order. It was only after both his arms were tight around you that he spoke up. “What do you have in mind?”

You tilted your head and focused on the upcoming path. “You’d rather not know.”

Before Hunter could respond, you began to swerve around a massive tree trunk, but you kept your momentum to the left and turned the bike all the way around in a circle. You pressed forward even harder, causing you to charge the other bike head-on as you fired a few blasts from the bike’s guns. It did nothing as the distance between your two bikes began to close.

“Sunny,” Hunter warned, his gloved hands fisting the material of your tunic as you went faster and faster. When you still didn’t stop or turn away, he said your real name in an even more panicked tone.

At the last second, you pulled up hard, causing the bottom of your bike to narrowly miss skimming the other as they flew under you. Your distraction, however, caused them to miss what was standing directly in their path, and their bike flew straight into the tree trunk you had already circled around.

“And that’s three,” you said, smiling to yourself with satisfaction as you began to steer yourselves back towards the Marauder. You gave Hunter a quick glance over your shoulder. “Still think I’m a good pilot?”

There was a pause as Hunter lifted one of his arms from you. He reached up to remove his helmet as he exhaled an affectionate breath. “You’re amazing.” The hand holding his helmet wrapped around you again as the other moved to your thigh, his thumb and his fingers stretching across the expanse of it. “Amazing.”

Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt the warmth of his lips on your rain-soaked neck, and despite the fact you were trying to focus on the winding path ahead of you, you couldn’t help tilting your head to give him more access. His hand running up and down your thigh was no help. “Hunter,” your utterance of his name was more of a pleased sigh than you would’ve liked, “this isn’t helping me to focus.”

He stopped kissing you to speak, but he kept himself close enough for his breath to fan over your skin. “I think you’ve proven you can still work well with distractions.” Hunter gave your skin another kiss before pausing again. “But I’ll stop if you want me to.”

You couldn’t resist him. “Hell no.” You freed a hand from the handles to cover his on your thigh. “By all means, keep challenging me.”

Hunter huffed, the sound melting into your skin in a way that drew an audible breath from you. He took your words as an open invitation to devour you, despite the way the rain was still pouring over him—and now soaking his unprotected head. Heat coursed through you in a way that was much different than the planet’s humidity, and it was only getting more and more impossible to ignore.

So much for working well with distractions.

You weren’t far from the Marauder when you brought the bike to a full stop. Before Hunter could even begin to question it, you had already spun around to grab his face and pull it to yours. Each bead of rainwater on your faces began to melt together in a sweet storm of your own, feelings of strong desire and relief from your leftover adrenaline pulsing through in each matching stroke of your tongues. It wasn’t often that you got to show off for each other, and it certainly wasn’t often that you got to celebrate a victory like this.

You raked a hand through his wet locks, drawing a pleased growl from him that caused him to somehow intensify his beautifully overwhelming actions. He tilted your head back, deepening your kiss in a way that made you cling to him the most you could. It was a breathtaking moment that made everything else fall away, from the raging storm that continued to pour down on you to the squad who was still waiting for you on the ship.

That was the thought that eventually helped you to separate yourself from him, though your teeth gently clung to his lip in your desperation to stay in the moment as long as you possibly could. Your slickened forehead rested against his as you took a few breaths of composure. “I really need to focus on getting us back to the ship, honey.”

Hunter smiled at that. “You’re right. We can’t leave the squad waiting for too long.” He lifted his head from you and helped you to turn back around. “I don’t like it when they start to get suspicious of us.” You chuckled at that, the warmth remaining in your chest as he set his hand on your thigh once again. “Lead the way, love.”

You beamed and prepared to push hard on the handles. “Hold on, Sarge.” You surged forward, and Hunter tightened the arm he had around you to keep himself in place. You laughed as he shook his head, though his own armored chest was rumbling with a hearty sound that you could feel on your back.

It wasn’t much longer before you saw the Marauder exactly where you had left it. You parked the bike, and before you could hop off, Hunter had already done so and extended his hand to you. You smiled and accepted it before the two of you ran towards the open hatch.

“Nice of you two to join us,” Echo quipped from inside the hold. He had a smile on his face that proved Hunter’s earlier words to be true; he was eagerly suspicious of something.

“Took a while for us to lose them.” Hunter’s response was delivered with as much composure as usual, though you didn’t miss the gentle brush of his hand over your back as he passed you on the way to the cockpit. “Tech, get us out of here.”

You were immediately distracted by Omega, who ran up to you with a worried stitch in her brow. “Are you okay, Sunny?” She gave you a quick once-over, no doubt searching for injuries, as she held the blanket over her shoulders even tighter. “How did they see you? It was so hard to see anything in the rain!”

“We’re fine, Omega.” You ran a hand over her wettened hair and smiled. “A creature jumped out and surprised us, and that gave away our position.”

Omega’s eyes widened. “How’d you get away?”

You crossed your arms, suddenly starting to shiver now that the regulated temperature of the Marauder was making your soaked clothes feel colder. “Speederbikes.”

Omega began to look even more impressed as she raised an eyebrow. “You stole one?”

“We did.” It was Hunter who answered for you, having returned from his quick check-in with Tech. His gloved hand had fallen on your shoulder, and as you glanced at him, there was no hiding the concern in his gaze as he looked upon your shivering form. He stepped away to set his helmet down and grab another one of the blankets, which he set over your shoulders for you. You uttered a quiet thanks as he nodded.

“Aww,” Wrecker cooed from where he was sitting in the hold. “Look at your soft side, Sarge!”

“No blanket for me?” Echo added, his grin having widened even more.

Hunter grabbed another blanket and threw it at Echo, causing both him and Wrecker to laugh as he did so. You giggled and shared a look with Omega, who was beaming at you as she rested her side against yours. You sat down with her on the floor of the hold, huddling together for more warmth. Your gaze caught Hunter’s as his lips stretched in a smile that warmed every inch of you in a way that was much more wholesome than your stolen moment.

You would only have those longing glances until you could steal another moment with him, though the rush his admiring eye gave you would never fail to leave you wanting more.

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831

[xxnashiraxx]

With Stars to Fill My Dream (12) - You Know How Much You Broke Me Apart

LOOK!!! I CAN FINALLY SHARE THIS!!! ❤❤❤ I commissioned this absolutely BEAUTIFUL art from @ritzeldraws of the dance scene in this chapter! It's so beautiful- it captures their expressions and feelings perfectly and it's been my iPad background for months waiting to be unveiled! It's so lovely and I'm beyond happy that I got the opportunity to request this. :") Thank you again!! (They're dancing to Duvet by Boa btw, just in case you thought it was a happy dance)

Prepare your tissues for this chapter 💕 It's sad, and my song choice is awful (sarcasm) but you'll recognize it if you've watched Cyberpunk Edgerunners. No happy endings in Night City 💔

Please enjoy!

Chapter Summary: A brush with death leads to denied realizations from Astarion when Ofelia suffers a fatal wound. After she recovers, the party takes a group photo with Ofelia's revived phone- courtesy of Gale- and they all dance the night away trying to forget about their next objective: taking down the goblin leaders. The unlikely pair's slow dance leads to a drunken confession, and further torment appears in the form of a dream visitor wearing the visage of a former friend from Ofelia's past...

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 7,811

Have some dance pics below the link!!! ❤ (peep the accidental cursor lol)

✧˖Tag List: @khywren

Opening under the cut!

Astarion tries not to think too hard about the way her eyes had been so sweet one moment, and the next had snapped like someone had wrung a child’s neck in front of her. She’d been very successful hiding her tone, but the eyes never lie, and hers were like cold dead stars. Empty and black.

He watches her come out of the broken mill, face impassive, before her brows twitch and a sheepish frown pulls at her lips.

“Lae’zel… I’m really sorry. I should have listened… you know way more about any of these things than me.” 

“No matter. It is normal for warriors to exchange furried words in the heat of battle. Apologies are not necessary, but I will offer mine as well. What were you retrieving?” Ofelia lights up and holds out the little rectangle she’d pried off the goblin.

“My phone! I found it! It plays music!” She grins at Lae’zel earnestly and the gith looks at her a moment before turning away.

“I take it back.” Ofelia sticks her tongue out at Lae’zel’s retreating back before gathering the rest of them close. They disclose the identity of the gnome they’d pulled off the mill, the man walking away towards the treacherous temple ahead- nothing they could do to stop him.

“Okay, we’ve got what? A bugbear behind that building?” She asks, keen eyes darting to the left. Gale nods. “Three trolls in that building there, another four goblins around the back of the old apothecary. Then it’s the road down to the temple. And that sounds like way too many for us to tackle with sunset so close…” She presses a finger to her lips, deep in thought.

“We could break into groups, at least take out the rest here a little at a time?” Karlach asks, her eyes flashing towards the trolls.

“Okay… let’s balance the teams. Karlach, Gale? Trolls?” The two specified nod, though the wizard with less enthusiasm. “The bugbear… Lae’zel and I.” Astarion tuts.

“What about me, darling? I hope you’re not considering pairing me with these two?” He jerks his chin at Wyll and Shadowheart and the latter rolls her eyes at him and graces him with a rude hand gesture. Ofelia flicks her eyes up to him, darkness flaring in them, before she turns her chin away.

“Okay. Come with Lae’zel and me.” He grins, and though they can do without the wet blanket, he’ll trust Ofelia’s judgment. He slides next to her, brows creasing when she stiffens, but she flashes a warm smile at him and his concern ebbs. She’s started behaving like a timid little thing around him and it’s sweet, almost as sweet as her usual red cheeks and tender warmth. What a lovely thing she’ll be to indulge in when she finally lets him devour her whole.

Ofelia lets him pounce on the passed-out bugbear and he preens at the opportunity to show off, lodging his dagger into the neck of the beast as it roars in anguish. He dances out of range of its angry swipes, leaping away gracefully thanks to the meal she’d provided him this morning. Ofelia strums a little tune to embolden Lae’zel and with a final cleave of the githyanki’s greatsword, the creature collapses into a puddle of blood and sour ale. Vile smelling, at that.

“There are lots of supplies lying around, would be good to take them back to camp after we’re done here.” Ofelia murmurs to Lae’zel and the other woman grunts in acknowledgement.

“Ahh yes, moldy cheese wheels and old brandy. Hardly a feast,” He drops said bottle, her eyes meeting his again and he can see that razor-thin edge beneath like a yawning abyss, void and unseeing. He blinks and it’s gone, replaced by dry humor. When she looks away towards an old barn, he frowns. She’s behaving strangely. At least something useful had come from his centuries of torment- the power of observation. And he’s very good at it.

Had it been what he’d said? Perhaps it was a little… cold. Not that it matters, really. But it does now, and he’ll need to remedy it once the opportunity arises. He rolls his eyes inwardly, breathing out a sigh. Why is it so hard to win her affections? She’d even admitted the first time he’d drank from her how much she likes vampires, that should have won him some points, surely? All he needs is for her to agree to a gods damned night with him and he can take the rest from there. It’d be easy to pretend to care at that point. Clinical, even.

[atlasofthestaars]

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .001

Note: Will use events from Mk9-11 + Aftermath. I am changing canon for some characters to fit the story. Changing canon in general for MK1, so at some point I will add in scenes not in the main story and probably will diverge from it in the end. Some character personality changes, not major, but enough to add depth. Slight character dynamic changes (Mostly Lin Kuei, so the trio feel slightly closer as a whole)

Also excuse the small exposition dump that happens through the chapter, it was needed to set up plot points in the future, so in the future we can get to those juicy character interactions easier!

LOVE INTERESTS: Liu Kang, Kung Lao, Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kenshi, Reptile, Scorpion (Kuai Liang), Sub Zero (Bi-Han), Smoke, Shang Tsung, Mileena, Kitana, Ashrah, Havik, Rain

Also on AO3: NEW ERA

part two

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO DOESN'T REMEMBER

Memories are fickle things. 

Awakening in the middle of a field, you heard the buzzing of bugs, and the grass beside you moved as a creature scurried past. Your head hurt, and a fog settled in your mind as if it were blocking something. You sat up slowly, noting the moonlight shining down on the area around you.

You looked down at your hands. It was odd, it felt like you were familiar with it, yet at the same time it felt all too foreign to you. You wiggled your toes, feeling the grass brush against them to remind you that they existed. 

Where were you?

Swallowing any dread you felt building up, you stood up wearily. Your body swayed as you got up, almost stumbling into the grass once more. The area around felt devoid of humans, undisturbed nature spreading far. It was beautiful and breathtaking, but it only soothed you for a moment before panic began to seep back in again.

Where were you?

In the distance was a soft light. A flame? Perhaps. You dragged your feet as you walked towards it. You’d rather go discover whatever that was then stick around being lost wherever you had woken up. 

Why were you there in the first place? 

Fear was crawling down your back at the inability to answer the nagging questions within your head. Shaking it off, you continued on. The closer you got, the better you could identify where the flame was from. 

A temple of sorts?

It had a dragon motif from what you could see, and it was constructed mainly from wood and stone. Red shingles, or at least you assumed it was…it was hard to see in the moonlight, lined the rooftops of the temple ahead. The tree leaves even seemed to be red. There were multiple buildings, one being a tall tower, and a few smaller buildings. The flame, which was quite large from what you could see, was lit in a pavilion of sorts.

Your mind throbbed as a vague memory of a temple floating in the sky appeared in your mind. But this wasn’t that same temple. Not at all. Why were you thinking of that?

Soon enough, you found yourself at the entrance of the area, marveling at the architecture and the beauty of the area up close. How wonderful. Eventually, you spotted two figures walking towards you. 

The first thing you noticed was their glowing blue eyes.

Not knowing what to do, you stood there. Although you felt a pit of dread build up in your stomach as they approached, you stood unwavering. You grimaced, not at the sight of them, but at how the figures coming closer seemed to intensify a dull throb that had been building up in the back of your head.

Silly as it was, were they the cause of your headache? Of the fog in your head that seemed to block out any memories you tried to pry from your mind? 

You watched as the two figures, that you could now identify as men, approached. You could read a vague sense of concern on one of their faces, and the other held a sense of shock on his. They walked over a bridge, stopping at the top as if to create a sense of height. You looked up at them, your will not wavering despite the dread that was building in your stomach.

Your headache, why was it hurting so much?

You watched as one of them held out his hands, forming one a fist connecting to his palm. He smiled at you. It felt warm. The other nodded his head in acknowledgement, but you could see the small smile he had as well. You stumbled as your headache turned into a sharp pain, as if someone had just stabbed your head. Gasping, you stumbled forward. 

The man who had been presenting his hands grabbed you to steady you, and you noted the strange sense of familiarity as he did so. His wrapped hands were firm as he helped you right yourself. You looked up into his eyes, and without thinking, a name popped into your head.

“Liu Kang?”

The dread you felt in your stomach turned into fear as the man’s eyes widened, and the vague shock that had been on his face before was now on full display. He glanced over to his companion who held the same look of shock before they both looked down at you, almost accusingly.

“How did you know that?”

That was years ago.

Shortly after the shock had worn off, you had been escorted into the fire temple. They gave you a place to rest for the night, but you could hear the whispers of Liu Kang and Geras as they walked away. What they were discussing, you weren’t certain.

You could hear the concerned tone in their voice loud and clear despite that.

The next morning in what was perhaps the politest interrogation ever, it was revealed that you had a lack of memories.

Kind of.

You had memories, or at least you thought so, but they were all jumbled up in your head. They felt wrong, and foreign and they didn’t match up with what you were seeing. After all, your mind was telling you the man who was interrogating you was Liu Kang…but it was not the same mortal man that popped into your mind. 

You also eventually recognized Geras, which seemed to alarm the two even more, even if they were subtle about it. Eventually, after long deliberation with each other, Liu Kang eventually came up to you and offered you a place to stay at the fire temple due to your lack of memory and residence.

You were relieved to have a place to rest and stay, even if you had a nagging feeling that the offer was a disguised excuse to keep a close eye on you.

You supposed that was fair.

Eventually, the memories you had came back slowly over the years, and you confided in Liu Kang about them. This led to an eventual friendship with the god as you unraveled the strange situation that you were in. The man, though cordial, had been wary at first of you. You thought that was reasonable. A random stranger showing up in rags and recognizing you without introduction?

That was suspicious for certain, you could not blame the fire god for his caution. Especially since he proclaimed himself to be the Protector of Earthrealm, you could have easily been a threat.

Thankfully, you were not. Or at least, he seemed to deem that you were not. Although you had a jumbled mess of mismatching memories, the two of you had concluded that the memories you did have were visions of sorts, of other realities, and that the memories you used to have were gone. 

Visions of other worlds traded for the memories of your past. That’s what he told you, anyways. You had a sinking feeling that wasn’t quite true, and that was the biggest secret you held from Liu Kang. After all, the more memories you regained, the less it felt that they were random visions. 

They felt like a past life…and maybe they were. You weren’t certain yet. You had a nagging feeling there were many memories left to unlock.

The guilt of hiding this doubt, this secret, was immense at first. Ignoring the fact that you were lying to a god, you were concealing doubts from a man who had offered you shelter and food.

Eventually the guilt died down into near nothingness, but there was still a twinge of guilt every time you lied about it.

Aside from that, you rediscovered abilities that you had not realized you had. 

Shapeshifting into animals. You could transform your whole body into creatures, or parts of them. It was a helpful power, you found. You also seemed to have some sort of muscle memory of fighting skills. Lord Liu Kang had once offered to train you, and to both of your surprise, you were quite skilled.

Rusty at first, but it was obvious your body knew how to fight. It was nothing that years, or in all honesty, months could not fix.

Another ability you realized after a few years was how your body did not seem to age. Or at least, not in the same way humans did. At first, the monks seemed to chalk it up to good genetics, complimenting on how you seemed to keep your youth. However, as more years passed, whispers of magic arose.

Concerned with the strange state of your body, you confided in the fire god. Liu Kang suggested that your body was one that lived longer, perhaps of one that was not native to Earth, or Earthrealm as he called it…an edenian, perhaps? He explained the realm of Outworld, and the existence of the realms in general. He had once explained it much before, along with some monks, but not to the historical extent he had given you at that time.

Through these explanations, you remembered Outworld much more clearly, but the memories of Outworld were once again inconsistent with the world he described.

The Outworld you knew had been run by a tyrant before it was passed to an heir that had been overthrown. It was war hungry, and not at all pretty as he described. Liu Kang offered that, perhaps, when the Mortal Kombat tournament rolled around in a few years, you could join him and the champions he would bring to Outworld.

You agreed, of course. Maybe that realm was key to unlocking more memories, and more explanations. Even though you cherished the Fire Temple, a place you had learned to call home, you now had a purpose going forward.

Go to Outworld to seek the rest of your memories.

And now, you were here, enjoying another peaceful morning in the Fire Temple.

Staring out from the pavilion, you inhaled deeply as you took in the sunrise. You could never tire of the beautiful view. Your ears picked up the soft sound of someone walking towards you, and you turned around, already familiar with who it was. 

“Hello, Liu Kang.” You greeted, a smile on your face as you nodded towards the fire god. The fire god sent you a soft smile in return as he walked up to be by your side. Due to your memories of a younger, mortal Liu Kang that had popped up so often at first, you had taken up a nasty habit of addressing him casually. You tried to fix this, but he had permitted you to address him casually in private.

It felt like a strange honor.

He greeted you, your name rolling off his tongue in a familiar way as his hands settled on the railing much like yours were. It was common for the two of you to meet up here at sunrise, to indulge in the simple yet breathtaking view. It was a tradition from years ago.

“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Liu Kang inquired, much like he did nearly every morning. He gazed at the horizon with a sense of serenity and peace before his glowing eyes landed on you. With a chuckle you turned your gaze to the horizon he had been staring at previously.

“It is, just like it is every morning.” You mused, watching as the sky lightened, the darkness making way for the pretty light blue hues as a pink and orange color settled over the horizon. Your fingers tapped the wood as you hummed, remembering that something special was happening today. “Today we’re going to the village of Fengjian, correct?” You inquired, a surge of excitement buzzing through you.

You had been around the world here and there over the years to accompany Liu Kang and sometimes even the Lin Kuei, but it had been a while since your last venture. 

“Correct, Madam Bo said two of her trainees were ready for the exam scenario, and today we're going to observe.” Liu Kang said, nodding as he confirmed the plans he had told you about two weeks ago. You noted how he kept his gaze intent on you, as if analyzing your reaction. You could not hold back the smile on your lips.

“Excellent, it’s been forever since I’ve had Madam Bo’s cooking.” You commented, remembering just how delicious the older woman’s cooking was. You were nearly drooling at the thought of it. Not only that, but Madam Bo was someone you valued as well.

Whenever you saw her, you were reminded of a fatherly figure who you hazily remembered who drunk a lot of alcohol. It was odd, but she too must have sensed the connection, as she took you in as if you were a child of her own ever since she met you. You wished you could go out to see her more.

You opened your mouth to speak, but you heard the faintest of footsteps. Reflexively, you transformed your ears into those of bats and craned them around to hone in on the sound. You tilted your head as you focused before you turned to look at Liu Kang, ears turning back to normal.

“I thought the Lin Kuei were to come later?” You inquired, revealing that you were now aware of their presence. You heard some muttering before the three assassins revealed themselves. Sub Zero, Scorpion, and Smoke. Three of the Lin Kuei you had grown closest to during your association with Liu Kang.

“That was the plan, but we decided to meet up earlier to discuss the plan as we shall leave earlier to get in position to observe.” Liu Kang explained. The two of you turned around to face the three. You smiled at the three. Smoke and Scorpion both bowed to the two of you. Sub Zero, notably, did not, but you did notice the slight nod of acknowledgement sent your way.

“Perceptive as always, and I thought we could finally sneak up on you.” Smoke greeted, addressing you as he spoke your name, a light playful tone to his voice. Smoke was always the friendliest of the three, it was a delight to talk to him. He was the most casual. You noted the slightly irritated glare from Sub Zero sent his way.

You surmised that Smoke had managed to convince the two others to also sneak in. You could not tell whether the irritation was from having to partake in such a silly endeavor, or if it was due to the fact that he blamed Smoke for giving the three of them away.

“Maybe another time, Tomas.” You chuckled, covering your mouth as you did so. Despite your words, you were competitive, and you weren’t planning on giving up in the ongoing game that you had both been playing for a while now. “Regardless, it is good to see you all, it’s been a while.” With that, you nodded towards Liu Kang, letting him go over the plan with the trio.

You observed silently as excitement coursed through your veins.

You had a feeling that tonight was going to be something special.

part two

[p0rk-guts]

HUSKER!!!! Husk. Whatever. THIS OLD CAT!!!! ^ - ^

comparison + breakdown ⬇️

Look idk what possible lore reasons there could be for Husk having bird wings and tail feathers whether it's hidden somewhere online or to be determined later in the show even though I can't for the life of me even guess why they're there (if you've got any hc's tho I'd love to hear em) but I just got rid of em entirely, at least for the time being. Declutters him a little. They're definitely a little much.

And I've always hated those buttons on his chest fur... Are they part of his pattern.... Are they hot glued on...... What is it with Viv and melting clothing and flesh together.........

He also does NOT look 60-70 like at all (pretty sure that's canon but I just got it off the wiki) so I tried to remedy that by giving him more wrinkles and creases. He's a Persian cat thing now bc some of them really do be lookin like mustache wearing old guys fr. Also his neck fluff is sorta supposed to allude to facial hair w/ some greying sprinkled in! He's officially like... 62 now. + He's fatter bc 1) beer belly 2) Persian cat build and 3) Vivzie twink fatigue

Husk's outfit is objectively silly for his grown ass to be wearing but I like the hc I've seen around as that being a stipulation in his deal with Alastor where he figuratively and literally "took the shirt off his back". Considering how as an overlord he had a nice suit and he (possibly. Definitely In headcanons) doesn't even like showing off sinner features, or his body at all, especially not in such a way. Is this canonically the case? Probably not. But hey 🤷🏾‍♀️

I made some comparatively minimal changes there. I undid his tie bc man's usually drunk and doesn't have the energy to fuss with it. I also gave the ends a bit of a spade shape. The clasps on his suspenders are meant to be clovers and there are still hearts on his hands. For the diamond face... I kinda tried to put it into his tail? But that's kinda iffy so 3.5/4 card faces achieved 👍🏾

Turned his top hat into a more flat wide brim hat that i could NOT for the life of me find a name for... Just wider fedoras I think? but they seemed to be kinda popular at the time. For my Husk, as an overlord he occasionally wore a fancy top hat when he was showing off, and now this is like. His downgrade replacement he's got to wear. + Some playing cards tucked into the hat band!

Made those yellows his primary colors bc in my rewrite greed is gold and I definitely think that would've been one of his major sins in life. Also a bit of gluttony too, which I made orange, so I added some of those tones in there. Allsoo after fussing with the colors for literal days I stilllll kindahateemalittle BUT IT'S FINE. I'll figure it out

And that's all for him!! Realized I forgot to put the little anti Viv banner on my last post but then again idgaf fr it's whatever. If you don't know I hate her you'll learn before long

And, of course, dvelopment sketches 4 sticking around!!!!

Ok that's all bye ✌🏾🧍🏾‍♀️

[weepingtalecowboy]

Fanfic prompt : Wind has the most ridiculous most overpowered skill set ever created

Like he can hold an entire pig over his head and throw it (with no trouble he probably got banned from handling animals at Lon Lon ranch very quickly)

He can hold a rito and throw her as well (and a korok too I suppose but Makar probably weighs like less then four apples)

And he can carry a hammer heavy enough to kill a monster on impact (and for that you need a force of at the very least a car crash at 180 miles per hour and the skull hammer has a very small impact Area so it probably needs even more force to kill at impact) and swing that thing with no trouble and even jump with it (Warriors probably exploded when he tried to carry it for wind and face planted)

He can walk in boots heavy enough to weigh down a child effortlessly (that kid never skipped leg day to do that a kick of his probably can kill a man with minimal effort)

And with the power bracelets he can pick up entire boulders the size of buildings and throw them very far and most importantly he can throw them hard enough that they shatter into dust

He can get flung across the entire great sea with no problem and hit a wall at full speed and not die (when the first attack on ganondorf failed and when the weird pearl carrying things exploded one after another)

Like that is some great ability to tank damage

Nobody in the chain could win in an arm wrestling against him and the kid isn’t even an adult yet (even twilight who can carry goats is still not capable of yeeting them would have a lot of trouble and twilight is an fully grown and trained adult not a 13 year old )

And that is just the physical part the magical part is even more horrifying

He can use fire , ice and light all with his own magic (even Hyrule is incapable off using light and legend still needs a fire rod for fire)

He just collects arrows and and then uses magic on them (he can probably use it without arrows because the arrows have little to do with innate magic)

He probably can heal someone with the light magic too (and ice a bruise at once)

And start a fire

The chain is probably going to taverns and then starting shit by betting on Wind while he murders the competition (and then collecting an easy profit from it)

And we are not even talking about the Wind waker because that stick absolutely annihilates the power scaling of the chain

He can Mind control with the command melody (a safe way to let time use the fierce deity mask because he can canonically control goddess statuettes a mask is much easier)

The blood moon is rising

No it’s not now it’s day again (song of passing and then constantly changing the night to daytime)

Hurricanes to fast travel well obviously why the fuck not (if he can take an entire boat with him 8 extra people are an easy job)

Change the wind back and forth just because it is convenient

In phantom hourglass :

Seeing ghosts

Stopping time

Walking through walls

And he had used the life force of a literal god to have enough life force to make it through temples (like that definitely has consequences)

And incapable of getting nightmares (because Cielia promised to forever protect his dreams)

Like I’m sure the chain thought that wind is an actual god or divine mercy for their adventure

If Wind thinks he is the weakest and that his ability is pretty normal and not trying to hide anything it gets so much more ridiculous

Like little guy is a god and didn’t notice

[cressidagrey]

I breathe flames each time I talk - Chapter 6

Summary:

The story of how Oriana Fireborn Belmont finally meets her mate's family.

Also the story of how Rhysand, The High Lord of the Night Court, finally recognises that by the cauldron, there is no fury like a female scorned.

Azriel would just like everybody to get along.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

It’s the High Lord. 

Azriel felt the wards shudder and then snap closed, his mouth ceasing to make sounds in the middle of his conversation with Cassian. 

“Oh no,” he breathed when he felt the ice-cold fury pour over their mating bond.

That was all he needed before he forced himself to get out of bed and snap at the shadows that tried to hold him down. For once they listened to him, probably because they knew that he was too fucking furious to be held down. 

“You are supposed to stay in bed!” Cassian protested. Azriel ignored that as he hobbled to the door. 

“My mate is going head to head with the fucking High Lord of the Night Court, I am not staying in the fucking bed!” He snapped. There was to hope that they wouldn’t outright kill each other but somehow he didn’t think that Oriana, in all her righteous fury, would be in a very forgiving mood. 

Cassian finally acquiesced, fitting himself under a shoulder and dragging him outside onto the porch where Nesta stood, staring at the spectacle before them. 

Rhys was trussed up like a turkey, suspended midair, merrily swinging in the wind, wings unable to move much in the golden bubble Oriana had him in. 

And Oriana…Oriana stood in front of him, hands on her hips and glaring at Rhys. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Rhysand! I told you to stay away,” Cassian snapped. “How? Is that your magic?” He asked Oriana, who just shrugged.

“It’s an enchantment. I reworked my warding net. That you broke,” she answered, her voice even. 

“When the fuck did you even do this?” Azriel demanded. 

“Last night when you were sleeping, Sweetling. I was bored,” Oriana answered. “And you are supposed to be in bed. I got this well in hand.” Of course. Sometimes she slid out of the bed in the middle of the night because she had an idea for something and needed to write it down before she could forget it. These days she kept a notebookonn on her bedside table, though the sound of a pen scratching over parchment had oftentimes woken him up, only to reach out and pull her against his chest. “It’s like a mouse trap. Just for High Lords. Who stick their nose into things that are absolutely none of their business,” she said brightly. 

Oh for cauldron’s sake. 

“I realise that I may have misstepped,” Rhys dared to say, still dangling head down in the air.

Oriana’s head snapped towards him. Azriel held back a grimace while Nesta started to outright grin. 

“ Misstepped ?” Oriana repeated voice light. The magical bindings jerked Rhys up. “Is that what we call that now?” 

In his defence, Rhys didn’t even tried to get out of it of his magical prison. He probably realised that trying anyway wouldn’t be a good idea. Who knew what else Oriana had worked into her enchantment when she had been working in it?

“I am surprised you haven’t set me on fire yet,” Rhys said drily. “Like last time.” Last time?”

“Oh, all in good time,” Oriana said brightly. “I enjoy your fear too much to cut this short.” 

Azriel probably… definitely shouldn’t find this attractive. But he did.

He really, really did. It was the pure magical power that poured from her, the intelligence that it must have taken to make a ward like that, her mind at work, protecting herself, protecting him. 

“There won’t be a repeat of last time, if you worry about that…” last time? What did she mean by last time? 

And then his attention was pulled towards Feyre twholanded a few feet before the golden dome that surrounded the Lakehouse and jogged the rest of the way, until she came to a stop in front of the ward.

“If you wouldn’t maim him for life, you would do me a favour!” Feyre called out. 

Oriana inclined her head. “High Lady.” There actually was respect in her voice that hadn’t been there before for Rhys. 

“Oh, just Feyre is fine!” Feyre assured her. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

“Oriana. But I think you already know that,” Oriana said. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“She’s very pretty. I can see why you wanted to marry her sister,” Feyre told Rhys drily. Cassian next to him choked on nothing.

“You wanted to marry her sister ?” Cassian asked, sounding incredulously. “What exactly did you do to his favourite jacket, Oriana?” he asked her, a grin stretching over his features. 

“I put it on fire,” Oriana answered easily. “And then I started with the rest of him. He had it coming though. He tried to flirt with Enya and when she turned him down, he tried it with me, but I was already engaged.”

Oh. Well. 

“You were engaged?” Cassian asked, surprised. 

Oriana shrugged. “Yes. I got engaged to get Enya out of marrying and being miserable for the rest of her life, an  then this one shows up and wants a bride. Which would already be bad enough but to decide that if one wouldn’t suffice, the next was an option? Yeah, I made my displeasure known. My sister is much happier in the infirmary than she ever would be as anybody’s wife,” she ranted. A fireball appeared with a dainty little flick of her wrist, flying across their yard near the bubble that still held Rhys. He was eyeing it with no small amount of trepidation. 

Azriel had no clue what to think about all of this. 

“Don’t worry, your jacket is safe from my wrath,” Oriana quipped. 

“Could you maybe not kill him?  I kinda want my son to know his father,” Feyre asked with a grimace 

“Thanks, Feyre darling,” Rhys said drily. She just shrugged 

“Sorry, you had this coming, Rhys,” Feyre said, crossing her arms. 

“Don’t worry, he won’t die,” Oriana promised. “I have only killed one person in my life and that wasn’t even on purpose.”

“Who did she kill?” Cassian asked him in a hiss. 

“Her husband,” Azriel said with a shrug. At Cassian’s stare, he added,  “He had it coming. It was self-defense.” 

Quite frankly, Wynstan had it coming. It could have been much worse. Oriana’s magic had onlyburneds him to death. For what he had done to her and taken from her, that kind of death could probably still be considered to be merciful as far as Azriel was concerned. 

“You can walk through the ward. It’s intent-basedd,” Oriana told Feyre at that moment. Feyre watched it carefully for a moment but then stepped through the ward that did nothing but glow brighter in response for a moment. 

“So what exactly was Rhysands intent if he triggered it?” Cassian asked the question that Azriel was also having.  

“No small amount of self-loathing, I imagine,” Oriana said drily just as Feyre reached them, pulling Azriel into a hug. 

“You look better than I thought you would,” she told him, a smile on her face. “She won’t burn him, will she?” she muttered under her breath and Azriel just shrugged. His guess was as good as any. 

“ We are going to talk about consequences,” Oriana said at that moment, flicking her wrist a second time, another fireball joining the first, hovering in the air. A third time. It spoke of so much control over her magic that Azriel was slightly awed. “And about what exactly constitutes appropriate behaviour towards my mate.“

The last thing he had expected was the words that left  Rhys’ mouth next: “I am sorry.“

Azriel’s eyes widened. This wasn’t…This was the last thing he had expected. Especially because Rhys sounded like he really was sorry. 

“I wasn’t aware that you even knew that word existed. For what are you sorry?“ Oriana prodded sharply, arms still crossed, clearly not willing to let a single thing go. 

Azriel couldn’t remember ever having anybody in his life who came down this harshly on anybody who did anything to disrespect thim. Even Rhys and Cassian thought that he could deal with it himself. Oriana…Oriana was seemingly glowing with righteous fury, thinly concealed magic sparking at his fingertips. 

“I was…out of line,” Rhys struggled to bring out the words. 

“Were you?” she questioned lightly. Her tone of voice was in a very sharp contrast to seemingly everything else she was doing. From Rhys dangling in the middle of their garden to the fireballs that surrounded him glowingly. 

“I was,” Rhys agreed. “I thought that…I tried to do what was best for the Night Court,” Rhys said quietly.  

“Correction. You tried to do what you thought was best for the Night Court,” Oriana cut him off. “Without even talking to anybody else or asking for advice.  But then you aren’particularlyar smart, so maybe I shouldn’t have expected any differently.”

Ouch. 

“Excuse me,“ Rhys complained, but she ignored that. Nesta bit back a laugh, while Feyre watched that whole thing with ill-concealed fascination. Cassian had crossed his arms, while Azriel himself was leaning harshly against the porch railing, as he watched his mate rail against Rhys. 

Oriana wasn’t even close to done, was she? 

He could feel it pour all over their bond, her fury, her anger, burning brightly as she concentrated it on who she clearly felt deserved all of it. 

Azriel wondered how she had put all the pieces together, but then maybe he shouldn’t. She knew him better than anybody else. And she was smarter than anybody he knew. She had probably overheard his conversation with Cassian and that had felt in all the blanks that she had been missing. 

“You know, I kept a list,” Oriana said suddenly. “A list of political decisions you made that I thought were unwise. But quite frankly, it didn’t really matter to me. If Velaris turned out to be unsustainable, I was just going to go back into the mountain,“ she told him. “But some decisions you made were about Azriel. And these…they pertain to me. They matter to me.”

“If I didn’t do what I did you would have probably never even met him,” Rhys pointed out, his voice hoarsely. The fireballs burned brighter in response, flames appearing at Oriana’s fingertips as she uncrossed her arms and held her hands to her side, clearly used to not burn the clothing she was wearing.  

“Is that supposed to make me be on your side?” she hissed.  “You think that makes it any better?  I love Azriel! I would rather not have him feel any pain at all than even spend a moment in my presence!” He flinched at her words because he had very different thoughts about that. He would rather walk through fire and burn alive than be even a moment without Oriana. 

“When I met him, he was a fucking shell of a being! He expected me to turn him away at every corner, to tell him to leave me alone! You hurt him. So much so that for close to two years, he lived in a house without any furniture! Where he slept on the floor. And I quote *I grew up in a cell, at least this has windows!* ” He couldn’t help but flinch at her words. 

“Oh Az…” Cassian whispered and he held tighter to the railing. Oriana wasn’t finished though. 

“You hurt him! With your words, and with your actions! I could argue against why you did what you did. I could pull apart your reasoning like plucking feathers from a chicken! But that doesn’t matter because you actually believed that you did the right thing!” 

It was so quiet after her outburst, that the only thing that could be heard was Oriana’s harsh breathing. 

“I…I just wanted to protect him,” Rhys finally whispered, his eyes closed, anguish clear on his face. 

“Who, Lucien?” Oriana snapped. 

“Azriel,” Rhys disagreed. “My brother.” His eyes opened and violet eyes searched out Azriel’s even over the distance between them. 

“I am sorry,” Rhyapologiseded. “I am so sorry.  I thought that it was infatuation. I didn’t think that you really loved her. I…I wanted to protect you. I know how strong the mating bond can be. I know that. And I…I thought that the chances that she was going to choose him were slim. Not because of you. But because of that bond. I wanted to protect you and I wanted to protect this Court. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

The words stood between them, quiet but heartfelt. 

And maybe if Rhys had actually told him that…if he actually told him that he was worried about him that he loved him but that Elain was mated and that even when she made any appearance that she wasn’t interested in Lucien, that could change when she actually settled into being a High Fae and didn’t just grief after the humanity that she had lost��

He could have understood that. He could have been reasoned with that. 

“Why didn’t you tell him that?” Oriana questioned quietly. “You could have just told him that.”

“I could have. But I didn’t. And that wasn’t even the worst thing I said,” Rhys admitted. “I said something even worse than that. I said to go to the pleasure hall if he wanted sex.”

Azriel flinched at the words that had haunted him. 

Reasonably he could understand how Rhys must have meant it. But they felt like something truly different to him, meant something very different to him. 

“I am sorry for that,” Rhys said quietly. “I…thought that you didn’t love her. But it wasn’t on me to make that determination. And I shouldn’t have ever even thought about telling you that.” He swallowed. “I am sorry, Azriel. You are my brother. And I am so sorry for how treated yoItt’s will haunt me for the rest of my life.”

He knew that Rhys meant every word and he was really not looking forward to hashing this out for much longer. 

“You’re gonna let him down?” he asked Oriana, who turned towards him. He pushed forgiveness at contentedness and he saw the moment she softened. 

“Do you want me to?” she asked and he just nodded. She turned to Rhys. 

“Have you learned your lesson?” She asked him pointedly.

“Don’t cross you,” he answered. Fire burst out of her hands at that. 

“Wrong answer,” she hissed at him. 

“Don’t stick my nose into things that are none of my business?” he tried again. 

“Closer.” 

“Don’t treat my brother like that again.” 

“You ever even think about doing anything like that to Azriel again, this is going to look like children’s play. Do you understand?” She asked, every word burning with intensity. Rhys swallowed. Azriel watched with some amusement that he actually was scared if the look in violet eyes was anything to go by. 

“Crystal.”

“Good.”

“We should keep her. The psychological warfare would be unparalleled,” Cassian whispered to him. Azriel just snorted. 

It took nothing more than another flick of her wrist, and the fireballs rushed into the ward, the golden bubble that kept Rhys let him go and he unceremoniously plummeted to the ground until his wings could wildly flap and save him from landing face first into the mud. 

He finally let go of the porch railing, managing to hobble down the two steps down onto the wide expanse of grass. Rhys crossed the distance to him and yanked him into a tight hug. 

Something inside him eased at that, as his hands fisted into his brother’s jacket, his face pressing against his shoulder. 

“I am sorry.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“Never.”

“You are two idiots, but I love you,” Cassian said drily, suddenly next to him and Azriel snorted as Cassian pounced on both of them in a hug. “Are you finally gonna come to family dinners again now?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

They were his brothers. 

Even when she had never seen all three together before that moment, she could easily see that. 

She pushed any remaining anger she felt away because quite frankly, her own anger didn’t really matter. Azriel was the one who had deserved an apology. Azriel was the one who needed to hear that from his brother.

She crossed the yard and, back to the porch, finding Nesta and Feyre both watching the three of them just like she had done. 

“I think you could have at least put him on fire a little bit ,” Nesta told her drily and Oriana snorted in amusement, while Feyre rolled her eyes. 

“Ah, you know…there is always a next time,” Oriana said, shaking her hands, sending the last few sparks of fire flying into the evening air.

“Are you finally gonna come to family dinners again now?” she heard Cassian ask and watched him as half-carried, half-dragged Azriel up the steps to the house. 

“I will,” he agreed. 

“And you are going to share some of your toys?” Cassian prodded. 

“He will,” Oriana agreed for him. “I’ll even make you your own when that is possible.”

“You know what, I like her,” Cassian said with a grin as he poured Azriel into the old rocking chair they kept on the porch.

“You can’t really say any differently, because you are still waiting for Azriel to rip out your throat,” she shot back. 

“Shh, don’t remind him,” Cassian shushed her wide-eye, making her snort. Azriel wasn't going to rip out his throat. They both knew. Give him a few bruises...once he felt better though, definitely. 

“You were supposed to stay in bed, Sweetling,” she told Azriel drily as she took in the way his skin was ashen, sweat beading at his hairline. This really wasn't good for him. 

“How about I sit right here, does that count?” he offered and she snorted. It was probably the best she could hope for. 

"You do that, and you take your pain position without argument," she told him pointedly. He just inclined his head. 

“You know Mor is going to be so sad that she didn’t see it,” Cassian commented at that moment to Rhys, who just glowered at him in response. “Or Amren.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll show them the whole thing,” Feyre said with a shrug, looking at her fingernails.

“Feyre Darling,” Rhys sighed.

“Nah, I agree, show them, Feyre,” Cassian said with a grin. “It’s not every day that you get to see Rhys dangling head down and apologising. So about family dinners…” he started once again.

“Well, we are already all here. If you want to get Amren and…Mor?  You could,” she suggested, looking at Azriel who looked anxious but hopeful. Hopeful that she was going to meet his family, and that she would get along with them. “Though you’ll all be subjected to my cooking.”

“The meatballs were definitely smelling mostly edible,”  Nesta said with a grin and she shrugged. 

“Just for that you can help me make bread,” she suggested, Nesta laughed but inclined her head. 

“I’ll go fetch them,” Feyre suggested brightly “Do you have an anti-winnowing ward on here?” she asked, but Oriana shook her head, opening it up with a turn of her bracelet. 

“Not anymore,” she said easily as she walked in. “One of you, get Azriel inside and put him somewhere to sit down!” she called over her shoulder. “And whoever else can help prepare a rabbit to roast, can help me in the kitchen!” 

Cassian ended up being the one following along in the kitchen, while Rhys got Azriel to sit at the dining table, fussing over him much to Azriel’s and her own chagrin.

“Did I break the winnowing ward?” Cassian asked her, sounding apologetic.

“No, she just lifted it,” Azriel answered. “I could feel that,” he told her drily and she shrugged. 

“I tied it to a bracelet,” she explained. “Makes it easier to change.”

“You can do that?” Rhysand asked and she just raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I can do nearly anything I put my mind to,” she told him pointedly. He inclined his head at that, and she pulled out the rabbit from the stasis cabinet she put it on, as Azriel had hunted it a week or so ago. 

Nesta and Rhys ended up helping with the bread, while Cassian cleaned and spitted the rabbit that ended up in the oven. 

Even Azriel got in on it, cleaning the potatoes she gave him, though she used an enchanted knife to peel them…making it much quicker than it would be to do it by hand. 

Feyre came back, a winged boy on her hip, Amren in two and a beautiful blonde female with her that Oriana had seen before. 

“Amren,” Oriana said with a smile, greeting one of her grandmother’s oldest friends. 

“Oriana,” Amren responded, inclining her head. “And our very own Shadowsinger. Your grandmother did mention that you always made the most interesting choices.” Oriana couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What can I say, normal is boring,” Oriana responded, much to the amusement of Nesta who snorted. 

“It’s so nice to meet you properly. I am Mor,” the blonde female burst out with, pulling her into a hug. “So, out of pure interest, what did Azriel do when he saw what you bought on you?” she teased her but Oriana just laughed. 

“He hasn’t yet,” she answered. “I am keeping it for a special occasion.” It made Mor grin and wink at her. Azriel watched the exchange with wide eyes. 

“Nothing that you need to worry about, sweetling,” she teased him and he just rolled his eyes at her. 

“And whose that?” Oriana asked turning to the little boy still in his mother’s arms that looked at her with bright blue eyes, the ball she had made him clutched in his hands. 

“That’s Nyx,” Feyre said with a grin. “Can you say hello to Oriana, Nyxie?” 

He gave her a toothy grin and then held out his arms for her, demandingly. 

“I think you got competition, Az,” Cassian muttered, making Azriel roll his eyes once again. Oriana just shook her head but offered her hands to the little boy who happily wrapped his fingers around hers. 

He looked like a perfect mix between his parents, with black, fluttering tiny wings that were absolutely adorable. 

She couldn’t help but wish that this was something that Azriel and she could have one day, that it was an option they had. They didn’t. But maybe that was okay. As long as she had AZriel, she was going to be happy. 

Anything else…that would just be the icing on an already perfect cake. 

“So who wants something to eat?” she asked brightly. 

[circeyoru]

hello, damn I fell in love with your yandere Alastor, it's too much jdkdkfkkd it's so sweet it kills me, I wanted to ask you how Alastor would react and his darling gave him his soul. I told myself I was going to stop reading so many Alastor fanfics but I can't with yours, they are very addictive.

To those that have no idea what this is talking about, check out {Unwanted Soul}

Thank you for your read and interest!! (can't believe someone says my stories are addictive, feel like I committed a crime)

OKay, back to business. Interesting ask. We never explored Alastor's side of the soul ownership huh. (since it's different from canon)

Basically, what's Alastor's response and reaction to Reader breaking the contract and returning Alastor's soul to him to own.

Alastor would see this as you not wanting him around. Full stop. Whatever your reason and currently established relationship (like how close you two are). He'd have a full breakdown and his confidence all gone. He gave you everything and treated you like an entity beyond. What did he do wrong? Tell him and he'll fix it!

By now, like after part 3. You have already mutually returned his feelings, but just not as strong as Alastor's. At least you're more lenient and accepting of his love and affections to you. He doesn't understand that you want him to hold his soul again without abandoning him. He knows you fear his power and Overlord status that can bring you to ruin, so giving you his soul was a way to show you he didn't care about these things that anchored his pride when compared to being by your side. To him, you accepting his soul was the same as you letting him stay by your side and accepting his twisted love for you. If you give back his soul to him, you're saying you don't want him and his presence around you.

He's not stupid, while he builds your reliance on him, he knows you could just as easily remove him from your afterlife. As such as he hates to admit it, you didn't need him as much as he needed you. (now isn't that odd?)

That's his feelings, now for his reaction and response.

While he wouldn't harm you, he'll frighten you to use the ownership power over him. Showing you that if you set him free from your hold, he can and will wreak havoc. Aren't you regretting the very thought of suggesting that? It's laughable, you want to free him. He'll show you, even when his powers are limited, he causes destruction to demons around him, think about what would happen if he's at full power.

Both of you are aware of this manipulation and you knew Alastor was using it to his advantage. Odd that the one that owns his soul is so powerless against his words and persuasions.

Oh, those don't work? Well. That's too bad. The hard way it is.

Alastor will lock you up somewhere. Keep you away from any paper-related objects. You're powerful, but you can't compete with him in combat. "You're sloppy, darling." He'd laugh when you tried to immobilize him with your summoned angelic weapons. They're deadly, but nothing if they don't land on their target. He'll push you into a corner so that you have to defend yourself till the point of exhaustion (like that time with Adam). Then he'll catch your tired and defenceless self in his arms lovingly. Once you're in your slumber mode, you're all his.

Charlie and the others are trying to find you? Even Lucifer? Well, he has his shadows and he will hide you from them. He's stronger now, before he played nice because you were there, but you're out of commission at the moment so he can let loose a bit. He would have pointed the finger at Charlie or even Lucifer and the others for your silly actions, that is, if you weren't always in your room with your entertainment. It took him years to get close to you, how can they do the same in such little time and you weren't caring for them as you did him. Even during you activities with the group, you weren't as involved and chose to stick close to him.

He'll nurse you back to health, but not fully that you can run away, he'll keep you at that borderline between energetic and exhausted. He gives you the same life you've lived with him during those 7 years, eveything's the same. Like the world only has you two in it. Back to the good old days.

Just don't worry about the times he's gone. He needs to ward off some pests around you. You don't care for them, yes? Alastor knows and understands. He'll take care of it as usual. You can ignore it all with your anime and comics, or take a nice long sleep to pass the time.

You let Alastor go? He's not letting you. Not on his soul.

Note: Hope this answers your question. I actually thought you were asking what if Reader gives Alastor their soul. Idk how I got that

Welcome other asks about my stories too!

Other Works: MASTERLIST

[sillysillyprice]

I am very confusion! Why do so many of the ancients trust burning spice?

I subscribe to the idea that he's not going to be a purple yam 2.0, But I imagine building trust with the cookies who "stole" your soul jam would be rather difficult.

I'm curious to see what your answer will be, have a good day!

This will be long but interesting to explain, since it is one of the things I had the most fun imagining!

The idea that Burning Spice has been the bearer of the virtue of change gave me a somewhat childish vision? about him, Of course, this virtue would later be corrupted according to the original canon, but in my AU, rather than being corrupted, what happened was that Shadow Milk controlled him to do all the atrocities he did

(HERE IS EVERYTHING SHADOW MILK'S FAULT)

When he was sealed, he was freed from the control of Shadow Milk, and had the privilege of not being completely locked up, his only impediment was not being able to leave a small village, village where the last inhabitants of his own kingdom were, where he was in charge of protecting them for generations, although he remained in the shadows of everything, because even if it was not voluntary, part of what happened was his fault after all

After a long, long, LONG time what the original story dictates happens, the beasts are released and the ancients must face them (There are parts where I stick to the canon, others where I directly invent everything, it's not like the entire story is already released, so from time to time there could be changes...)

Golden Cheese somehow reaches the village that Burning Spice protects, and Burning Spice himself tries to kick her out! He doesn't want strangers in his lands, especially one who has a Soul Jam... He doesn't want to know about wars or the power of soul jam, he just wants to take care of his village, he can't understand why those kinds of fights should happen, in his own words "all this could be solved if they saw how stupid it is, they just hurt themselves for nothing"

Golden Cheese realizes that Burning Spice is not a bad guy (he just hangs out with the wrong people hehe) and although he would like to leave him alone, since the poor guy has been through too much–

He also can't ignore the fact that having a "beast" on his side would be incredibly valuable, so he makes a deal with him, his village will be safe, Golden Cheese would use his power to keep the village hidden from any danger and the inhabitants would enjoy luxuries, the only thing Burning Spice had to do was cooperate in the fight

and he accepts, because, one, he liked Golden Cheese, he considered her a great cookie, and two, keeping his village as safe as possible was his number one priority

The other ancients at first clearly distrusted him, but over time... they realized that he was just a big little guy that agreed with several of his ideals, to make a better world and to end disputes

What if I made it a little silly? Yes, but I feel that it gives him a certain charm and grace, he is a giant guy who sees life in such a simple way that it is even adorable! consider it like a giant puppy

[ruruumin]

good luck, babe!

₊˚ ᗢ canon! lumine x gn! reader (x endgame! mona).

⤷ when you need a little loving, she's not there.

you can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth. you thought she might stick around longer. having found her lying in the sand with a rather obnoxious, pale-beige companion, you were the first person she met in teyvat. the first one who taught her how to use her wind glider, the one who guided her in her early battles, and the one who put faith in her. the outlandish traveler who has come to find her brother. that was who she was to everyone else. but to you, you thought from the bottom of your heart, she would be the one for you.

the times you’ve shared in dark inns and festivals were more than enough to send your feelings leaping to the top of your throat.

sending her away to liyue was heartbreaking. you knew this was the right thing for her. she was a free soul. she needed to find her brother. you couldn’t possibly keep her tied down to you in mondstadt. it was a selfish wish. an ugly one that sent your head reeling. she gave you a nervous kiss on the cheek, waving to you from the port.

you try to kiss her on her lips but she quickly dodges your advances, telling you she doesn’t want your public display of affection. she tries to comfort you, saying she’ll come back to visit you. and if that doesn’t happen, she can send you letters. 

i don’t want to call it off, but you don’t want to call it love. you have to suck everything up and settle for her short, fleeting kiss. a bitter taste lingers on your tongue. she boards the boat, making sure to wave to everyone crying their eyes out for her. when you shift your sights, you could feel your heart drop to your stomach, seeing the successor of the ragnvindr clan staring fondly at her. 

she occasionally writes letters to you, and you receive them in the comfort of your home, a place where she once took residence. it was signed and sprayed with her signature perfume, a smell that would always soothe your sore muscles. after a long day of adventure, her words are what you look forward to hearing. 

she talks about her journey in liyue. rambling about how delicious the food is, how vibrant the culture is, and how much fun she’s having with her new friends. she likes to bring up two people in particular. this strange fatui harbinger that is constantly getting on her nerves and the second, a very quiet yet protective soul that guards the land. you want to stuff the gross, sick feeling that is building at your core. you don’t want to assume anything. they could just be friends. a very chummy pair of friends, your devil argues. attached to this letter was a photo she took.

and it felt too intimate to just be friends. 

you only wanna be the one that i call ‘baby.’ she signs her name beside a heart, a subtle marking that she still thinks of you differently. you hold this letter close to your chest, ignoring the photos. 

she continues her life to inazuma, the land of eternity. not without a few more letters delivered to your front door, signed with her pretty name in gold ink.

you could only pray for her safety. inazuma was not the most welcoming country. you’ve heard stories about the archon being a ruthless warrior who imprisoned many of her people’s dreams. you want to tell her to return home (to you). you want her to stop her adventures and come back, kiss you again like she did all those nights before. remind you exactly why you’ve fallen in love with her. 

you don’t have the heart to tell her the truth. so you let her travel far and wide. like her time in liyue, she is writing to you about all the people she’s met. you can kiss a hundred boys in bars. a red and white colored samurai, a flirty detective, a kind-hearted blond, and the tea-loving clan leader. one photo after the other they flood like a broken dam. shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling. 

every single one of them influenced her in ways you could only imagine. they gave her the hope to continue moving forward. having accomplished what might be the impossible, stopping an archon’s power with two visions, you can’t help but compare yourself to her many talented friends in other nations.

her letters start to become antagonizing to you. each month they come in, detailing more and more about the things you didn’t want to hear. was inazuma better than what you provided in mondtsadt? or was it your relationship? this forbidden bond between two women. you want to ask her if she feels ashamed, but your heart and mind argue with each other.

like promised, she comes back to you after liyue’s lantern fest. and while you wanted to be the first person to greet her, it’s unnerving seeing the renowned alchemist, albedo, at the port. his eyes brightened up at the sight of her luminous hair and he rushed over to greet her. his sister klee quickly followed behind, her hand reaching out to push him closer towards the elusive traveler. he exhibited an excited expression you’ve never seen in your life, its unlike albedo.

you clutch onto the surface of your clothes, unsure of what to make of it all. 

i’m cliche, who cares? one step after the other, she pushes you onto your bed, fingers entangled. legs brush up against each other. hot breaths on your ear keeps you grounded to reality. her lips kiss the nape of your neck, the bottom of your jawline, the side of your temple. she whispers to you the words you’ve been wanting to hear and it reels your heart right out you.

you’re caught on her fishing line and she has you exactly where she wants you. its a sexually explicit kind of love affair.

and as quickly as she came, she left for the next place: sumeru. it should become routine to you at this point. you go on with your life, once a month a letter comes in, and she’ll always talk about her new friends. this time it was a very attractive scholar from a prestigious akademiya and a short, youthful boy. the latter was originally some kind of god that had been abandoned by inazuma’s archon, but now he has reformed underneath her care. she tells you that he follows her around like a lost puppy, always eager to help her out with denial trailing his every word. and i cry, it’s not fair. 

was every man in the world a better choice than you?

it hurts you to see those photos. seeing her smile so bright, waist snuggly close to her new friends’ hands, their eyes filled with the same adoration you had for her. she never took photos when she was here in mondstadt with you. so why does she do it with everyone else? was it really about you? about your relationship?

i just need a little loving, i just need a little air. she only comes to your house, eager to pepper kisses down your throat. very rarely do the two of you spend time in taverns or festivals. you’ve asked yourself so many questions. so many times. on various occasions. 

and the thought comes up to you in a nauseating wave: she was ashamed to be seen with you. you’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.

she doesn’t return to mondstadt after sumeru. immediately traveling to the next area, she’s continued to capture the hearts of every man in the nation. you wonder to yourself if she’ll ever see you the way you need. if she’ll ever love you the way you wanted. hope is dashed one letter after the other. and you’ve stopped counting. you let them pile up on your desk, unopened and unread. 

you do everything in your power to forget about this outlandish traveler. returning to your singular room, folding the bed without a second thought, cooking meals for yourself. everything went back to how it was before she arrived. at first, it was hard to go back to where you started. you couldn’t forget the soft kisses or the whispers of her voice from haunting you. your heart was still yearning for someone who would never see you properly.

but with time, things will change. you’ll move on. and you’ll love someone else. that is the way of life after all.

you fasten your weapon, booking it out the door to meet a very peculiar girl, one that could tell your fortune with just the palm of your hand. she smiles at you with bright enthusiasm. her skin feels warm when she pulls you towards the open field, her hydro vision glistening underneath the sunlight. 

you were thankful you met her on that fateful day. on a particularly hot day, when you were leaving your house for some fresh air, she was the freedom you were yearning for. you met during one of your commissions and she hasn’t left your side since then. every day felt brighter when she’s around.

she drags you out of your home to dance with her at festivals. she invites you to her place to play a game of cards. she even kisses you on the back of your hand as if you were the most special woman in the world. and most importantly, she’s not afraid to be seen with you. if anything, it fuels her with immense pride. 

it felt liberating being with someone who wanted you.

it’s no longer a surprise to you when you see the luminous traveler at the port. she’s looking left and right for you, golden eyes searching for your figure in thick crowds. she’s out of breath when she pushes through everyone. after her stressful time in fontaine, she’s been dying to see you again. eager to feel your warmth on the tips of her fingers. she wants to ask you why you haven’t returned any of her letters. she needs answers. and she needs you. 

and when you think about me, all of those years ago, you’re standing face to face with ‘i told you.’ she stops in her tracks, heels stomping on the ground as her blood turns cold. hand in hand, you’re sitting next to a woman dressed in the prettiest of constellations. lights shine above you like a halo, highlighting your natural glow. she’s leaning her head against yours, kissing you on the lips. a proud expression is written upon her face, over the moon that she has you.

and lumine could do nothing but watch.

good luck, babe.

[lyubovsdiary]

Hi, can u do Armando x Vampire Reader(Lucy). Where, Armando, Mike, and Marcus were on a mission and they got captured and held hostage. Around 30 minutes, Mike and Marcus were trying to figure out a plan while Armando was listening till they heard screaming outside and then more screaming inside. The shots fired down and then the door was busted with great strength. Few men were guarding Marcus, Mike, and Armando. Then Lucy killed the first two by biting and breaking till the last one got his heart ripped out. Marcus and Mike were screaming but Armando was smiling little bit till it revealed Lucy. She said hey guys. Her mouth was all bloody and she got them out. In the end, Armando kissed her like crazy.

yeah ofc!!

Monster

a.aretas x vampire!reader

summary: due to a mission gone wrong, armando’s girlfriend has to come rescue her lover, his father and his father’s partner. what better time to meet his family?

warnings: violence, blood, graphic killing

a/n: i hope i could do your request justice!! i had some issues capturing mike and marcus’ humour and the way they talk, so i hope it resembles them at least somewhat. the smell problem marcus has with dead bodies is actually canon!! it’s mentioned in the first movie. also it’s my first time writing a supernatural reader, but i tried my best. the 5 eps i watched of the vampire diaries really paid off

“I thought when I joined las fuerzas del orden, shit like this wouldn’t happen no more,” Armando said while looking pointedly at Mike.

Said man just looked at him incredulously. “That’s too damn bad then. I’m gon’ call the guys over real quick and tell them to let us go because my bitchass son didn’t think policemen ever got kidnapped. Don’t piss me off,” Mike replied. This wasn’t how the day was supposed to go and Armando knew that damn well. He didn’t need to rub it in.

“Nah Mike, you can’t talk to yo son like that. What kinda role model are you gon’ be for him?” Marcus decided to pitch in.

“Now I know you ain’t tryna give me tips on raising my son, Marcus. Besides, what bullshit advice is that? He’s a grown ass man now, he has no role models,” Mike complained.

While the two continued to argue, Armando inspected his surroundings. The chair he was tied to was made of metal, so he couldn’t break it and have his hands and feet free. The room they were in was dimly lit and the walls were bare, if not for the grime and dirt sticking to them and the floor. In the nearest angle there seemed to be badly cleaned up blood and a fingernail. This really wasn’t what Armando expected would happen.

When he was briefed earlier today about the mission’s details together with the rest of the AMMO team, it had seemed simple enough. Infiltrate this new gang’s base, collect as much information as possible and then knock out and arrest everyone they could find. They were supposed to be quiet and sneaky to not alarm the gang’s members and make them run.

But things had not gone to plan. As soon as Armando, Mike and Marcus entered the bulding, they had been drugged with some kind of substance which made them pass out. Next thing Armando knew, he was tied to a chair next to the two idiots who were still talking next to him. He knew that every connection he had to the AMMO team had been ripped out and taken by their captors. But they hadn’t accounted for one thing: You.

Now it was just a matter of time before you got him out of here. Armando would just have to be patient and trust you.

In this moment he decided to listen in on the conversation currently held between the other two men in the room.

“I’m telling you Mike, if you make yourself sweat enough, you’ll be out of these ropes in no time,” Marcus insisted.

“Let’s see it then. C’mon, show me how the hell that’s supposed to work. And even if you did somehow succeed, what would you do after that? You ain’t got weapons, or a plan of what the building looks like. How many people are even in here?” Mike ridiculed. He knew damn well Marcus had no idea, ‘cause he never listened when team meetings were had. 25 years with his partner had given him enough experience to be sure of that.

“We can figure that out later, man. The first step is to get out of these ropes. See how my hand is moving already? I’m almost free Mike, you just wait and see how my genius gets us out of this place,” Marcus assured, wrists barely moving an inch.

Armando then decided to stop listening to them to protect his common sense and his peace. Their plan certainly wasn’t the best he’d ever heard of, but he had done much stupider and more reckless things, so he didn’t judge too much.

Suddenly the conversation between the two men was interrupted by loud screaming far away. Though that was cut off by a sickening ‘crack’. Someone started to yell something about “Shoot her! Shoot her now, you idiot!” but more screaming picked up and even more nauseating sounds of bones breaking, flesh tearing and knives meeting flesh could be heard.

Soon one couldn’t distinguish between the different sounds and they were combined to a vile symphony of chaos.

“What the fuck is happening out there?” Mike questioned, looking at the door like it might explode at any given moment. Marcus wasn’t looking too well either, fearing this may be the day a mission proved too much for him and his partner to handle.

Meanwhile, a small smile had formed on Armando’s lips. His saviour was coming.

You didn’t often kill people, moreover choosing to steal blood bags from the hospital you worked at and rarely harming a human. When Armando was in danger though, it was a completely different story. No one who dared lay a finger on him stayed alive long enough to regret ever touching the one person you loved more than anything.

Armando rarely used that to his advantage, usually using his own skills to defend himself if needed, but in situations like these, it was very useful to have a girlfriend who could hear your heartbeat a hundred miles away. You also tended to stay in the area of their mission, just as an extra precaution.

The sounds of destruction were coming closer and closer and Mike was slowly starting to panick too. Whatever was coming wasn’t anything good, and it seemed like it was coming for them next. He didn’t want to die here. He also didn’t want Marcus and his son to die here next to him due to some kind of psychopath targeting the wrong gang at the wrong time.

But he guessed wishes didn’t always come true.

The door was busted down, revealing a person biting into the neck of what seemed to be a gangster guarding the three men. Another gangster tried to punch the figure in the face, but his shoulder was quickly dislocated and his neck was bitten into as well. Dropping to the floor next to his companion shortly after, the men’s attention now focused solely on the figure they couldn’t see properly before.

You lifted your head and gave them perfect view of your fangs glistening with blood in the light streaming in from the outside. The red liquid was dripping down your chin, staining your clothes and the ground beneath you. Your pupils were dilated, high off the rush fresh blood granted you. A knife was sitting in your hand, stained in the crimson colour you loved so much. You looked like the monsters mothers warned their young children about and fathers looked under beds and in closets for.

Marcus couldn’t contain a terrified shriek, when out of nowhere another gangster threw herself at you, trying to stab you with a dagger she had hidden in her shoe. Deciding you had had enough, your hand reached inside her chest, and returned with her still beating heart sitting perfectly on it.

The girl looked at her heart and the hole in her chest with big, terror-filled eyes. She couldn’t even whimper before slumping down the nearest wall and losing her life.

Throwing her heart next to her lifeless body, you stepped over her, turning to look at the three men held captive.

“Hey guys. Need some help?” you asked evenly, scanning the faces until you found who you were looking for. Crouching down next to him, you inspected his face, arms, and any visible part of him to see if you could make out any injuries.

“Are you okay? Did those bastards hurt you? I swear I’ll find a way to bring them back to life just to kill them more painfully this time around,” you muttered with a tight voice while undoing the ropes wrapped around Armando’s wrists and ankles.

“No, mama, estoy bien. They didn’t get a chance to, because mi hermosa novia was too quick for them to even think about it,” the smooth man praised you, knowing it always made you feel better. Praise was something you loved to hear, especially coming from him.

While the two of you were having your sweet moment, Marcus and Mike were having trouble comprehending what exactly had just happened. In all the years they had worked together they had never been quiet for as long as they were now. Their speechlessnes was partly due to the fact that Armando seemed to know you very well and partly due to the mess you had left behind.

The brutality of the deaths of the gangsters shocked the two detectives. They had seen a lot in their careers, but this was a whole new level of freak that they didn’t know how to deal with. Especially Marcus had to breathe through his mouth, because the stench was deadly. The smell of corpses wasn’t something that ever got easier to smell, even after more than 25 years on the force.

After finally freeing Armando, the two of you went over to his two teammates to free them from their ropes too. Armando went to his father and you went to Marcus.

“Nah, don’t you touch me! I have a wife and kids! If you drink my blood or whatever you and your father Dracula do, she’s gonna kill you, I swear!” Marcus shouted, trying to lean away as far as possible from you.

“Relax, I won’t hurt you,” you promised, having to suppress your laughter at his comment. You had to admit it wasn’t as bad as what others have said when they found out what you were. Granted, they usually didn’t have time to say anything much, because the next thing they saw after your fangs was either heaven or hell, but still.

Freeing the detectives as well, the four of you started to make your way out of the bulding, with Mike leading the way, Marcus watching his six and Armando and you following behind them.

Before stepping into the hallway though, Armando grabbed your arm and spun you around to face him. After looking in your eyes for one magnetic moment, he leaned down and kissed you passionately. Borderline making out with you next to the people you had killed for him. The two of you were certainly meant to find each other, since neither of you minded.

Translations:

las fuerzas del orden - the law enforcement

estoy bien - I’m fine

mi hermosa novia - my beautiful girlfriend

[iitf]

Sooo I went a little crazy and started thinking about SU au. Its not very well thought out, mostly I’m just having fun with thinking about which gem everyone would be, why, and how it all would work in such conditions.

There is Jon as jacinth - variety of zircon. In many ways, I chose this stone for him because John is very similar in his behavior and thinking to zircons, especially blue. Love for building theories and getting to the truth. If you remember the episode with the trial, where the blue zircon justified Steven(Rose Quartz), she looked for contradictions in the already existing data, realizing that the deal was far from so obvious, and built a theory about who could be the real killer of the pink diamond, until she reached to blaming the yellow and blue diamonds themselves. Very similar to John's behavior in Season 2 when he was investigating Gertrude's murder. Both John and blue Zircon became very carried away with their investigation, which is why John blamed his colleagues and zircon blamed the diamonds. But John also shows factitious skepticism and impartiality with statements in Season 1 in order to feel more secure. This behaviour reminds a bit of yellow zircon. Speaking about the Rose Quartz’s guilt, she tried not to look into the depths of the deal, speaking about it superficially, in order to quickly do her work and finish the trial. When Blue Diamond made everyone cry, Yellow Zircon didn't show much emotion, suggesting that she had dealt with a lot of very emotionally difficult cases before, which caused her to become more resistant to such things, and adopted a distant attitude. She behaves more impartially, for her own safety, just like John.

Of course, in the case of yellow zircon, things may not be as complicated as I think, but I like to stick with this theory. (I can talk about zircons for hours) In general, this is why John is a jacinth - a type of zircon.

He working in the archives, of course. But the Magnus institute working in the Homeworld, like, for gems. So he is solving mystery’s that happened in gems’ world. Incidents with corrupted gems and such.

And there is Elias - eye Agate. His personality reminds me of blue agate + his working position

I don't have much to say about him, actually…I just don’t have a lot of information about him from the canon right now, except for some spoilers. But it was intresting to play with his design.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 5

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Nothing major.

Word Count: 5,402

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: Sorry, this chapter is a bit longer than usual, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. 😘

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

Over the next two weeks, Dean did whatever he could to avoid being around Y/N.  He was determined that the morning at the river was simply going to be a weird one off. It was some kind of reaction to Y/N’s unfamiliar presence. Her emotions and her rose-colored outlook on the world had contaminated him somehow. 

He didn’t know why, but there was something about her that always made him question his decisions, constantly rework his plans. She just brought something out in him, so he stayed the hell away from her as much as possible.

He knew she’d set up the school and begun teaching. But there again, she’d made him change his plans. The plan had been to use the sheds behind the cabin for storage; that was the whole reason for building them! 

But apparently Y/N had worked her magic with Brandy and before he knew it the sensible, practical woman had him convinced to let Y/N and the kids take up one of their very limited storage spaces, just to sit around doing algebra and reading poetry - or whatever she was teaching them. 

It was ridiculous. 

But even though he avoided her during the day, there was no turning off his brain at night, when he closed his eyes and visions of her soft curves and the memory of her silky skin beneath his fingers plagued his thoughts. He told himself to smarten up, that he had so many more important things to be thinking about. 

He decided he just needed sex; it had been too long. So one night he showed up in Risa’s tent after midnight and she opened her arms to him the way she always did. 

But as he kissed her and moved his hands over her body, her gentle sighs and soft moans weren’t doing what he needed them to, and he realized he was being an asshole trying to replace one woman with another. Risa was a good soldier and she’d been a soft place for him to land too many times to just use her as a distraction. 

So he got up and left, giving her a lame excuse, “I forgot I have to be up early tomorrow to…go over things with Johnston.” He tried not to notice Risa’s frown. He couldn't tell if she was mad or sad, and he didn't really want to stick around to find out. 

As the days moved on, he realized it was next to impossible to completely avoid Y/N, whether day or night. Because no matter how he tried to ignore her, he saw her influence everywhere. He could sense a shift in the air, he swore people were smiling more and every once in a while, he could hear kids laughing loudly.

That was a foreign sound nowadays, and it unnerved him. And smiling seemed foolish. What was there to smile about? Being happy just invited tragedy. He knew in the old days he would have been called a pessimist. But he was simply being a realist as he'd always been. He called things as they were, and he wasn't about to let a pretty smile and a bouncy attitude change that.

One evening, about a month after Y/N arrived at the camp, Dean was headed to the storage shed to take a thorough inventory before they left the next day on a raid - one of their last before the snows came in mid November. He knew they were gonna need more propane than what they had stored in order to run the generator over the winter. The generator ran the fridge and freezer where they kept their food stored. 

It could also power the electricity in the big cabin for a little while if needed. There had been nearly a week last winter that had been so piercingly cold that they’d all needed to jam themselves into the cabin and run the electric heat as much as possible. It had simply been too cold for the little camp stoves in the tents; the wood-burning stoves just couldn’t generate enough heat to combat the intense cold that seeped through the thick canvas walls. 

So their generator had saved them, and it ran on propane, which meant they needed more than enough to last through another possible cold snap.

Dean had deliberately waited to start the task until it was nearly sundown since the school would be empty by then and he could avoid running into the teacher that worked there. 

But as he approached the small building he could see a wavering light in the window - a lamp moving towards him. Before he could turn and leave (he wasn’t going to call it running away) Y/N stepped out into the semi-darkness and gasped as she saw him standing there.

She put the hand not holding the kerosene lamp to her chest. “Oh my lord!” She breathed out raggedly. “You scared me half to death.” But she was chuckling as she said it and walked closer to him.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I uh…I thought you’d be gone.” He knew he sounded slightly accusatory. “Why are you still here? Haven’t the kids been gone for hours?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah. I came back to put up the gift we got from Tom Richardson.” She waved him towards the building behind her. “You should come see the school.”

Dean shook his head. “No, I’ve got…I have to -”

She cut him off with wide, pleading eyes. “Please?” She added a bright, imploring smile and Dean shook his head. Why was he even bothering to say no to her at this point? He gestured for her to lead the way into the little building and he followed at a distance. 

They walked in and she set the lamp on the small table in the corner and turned it up full so that it completely lit up the tiny room. She held her arms out to the sides, showing off her little schoolroom with pride.

“What do you think?”

He shook his head. “It’s uh…pretty empty.” He said looking around. 

Y/N shrugged and seemed a little deflated. “It’s a work in progress.”

Dean grunted his acknowledgement and continued his sweep of the room. On the floor against the back, Northern, wall were a couple of piles of wool blankets, and right above them was a mural of multicolored leaves stuck to the wall. 

When she saw him looking at it and frowning, Y/N explained. “I got the kids to find a bunch of pretty, fallen leaves, and then we used some tree sap as glue to stick them up. I got to teach them a little bit about trees and ecosystems, and we also made something pretty to hang on the wall.”

He nodded at the blankets. “Is that where the kids sit?”

“Yeah.” She said with another shrug. “We’re a little packed in, but it keeps us warm. The blankets just take the chill out of the floor and make it a bit softer to sit on.”

Dean nodded absently and looked left, his eye catching on the only other object in the room. It was a paper map hanging on the western wall, held in place by two small nails. 

Dean frowned again. “Is that a map of America?”

Y/N nodded excitedly. “Yeah, that was the gift from Tom Richardson. It was so kind of him. His son, Jonah is a sweet little guy, but I guess he’s been pretty quiet over the last year or so. He lost his mom just before he and Tom got to Chitaqua?” She said, clearly using the words as a question to see if he knew who she was talking about.

Dean nodded, a vague recollection coming to his mind of a big burly guy and a scrawny little kid. He remembered thinking the guy would be a hard worker, and the kid probably wasn’t gonna make it. He’d looked pretty sick.

Y/N continued. “Well, I guess since he started school he’s been talking more in the evenings, even asking Tom questions about The Knights of the Round Table. I’ve been sharing some of the legends with them this week. So, Tom was grateful and as a thank you, he gave us this map that he’d kept tucked away in his backpack all this time. Said it made him feel peaceful to look at it and remember better times. But he thought we could use it more.”

She smiled wistfully and gazed at the slightly ratty map.

“Why?” Dean asked with a slight jolt in his gut. He waved at the map. “It’s not like this anymore.”

Y/N nodded and lowered her gaze to the ground. “Yeah, I know, but the general shape of the country is still the same, and I can use it as half geography, half history.”

When she looked back up at him, her face was set in lines of disappointment. She waved her hand to encompass the whole hundred and fifty square feet. “You don’t like it?” She asked with a weak chuckle.

Dean shrugged. “No it's, I mean, it’s fine. You know, work in progress, like you said.”

Y/N nodded and smiled, looking a little bolstered. “Yeah, slow but sure. And you know,” her smile turned shy, “I’ve really wanted to thank you for giving up the space for the school, I know this wasn’t what the shed was earmarked for.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, Brandy made sense. Can’t have the kids wandering around outside after the cold comes.”

Y/N frowned. “I’ve wanted to thank you, but every time I’ve looked for you, I seem to have just missed you.”

Dean scowled defensively. “Just busy.” 

Y/N nodded.

“Well look,” Dean said, backing away, “I gotta get to…stuff.” He shook his head. “I mean, we’re leaving on a raid tomorrow and I gotta prepare for it.”

“Oh, be careful.” Y/N said, biting her lip in concern.

It was far too hard for Dean to rip his eyes away from where her teeth sunk into the satiny sweep of her bottom lip. But he jerked his head up and then spun away as he answered her. “Always am.”

***

The raid was successful; in fact it was one of the most successful ones they’d ever had. They’d traveled all the way to St. Louis, hoping to find some gas stations there that hadn’t been picked clean. But they had no luck. Since going home empty-handed wasn’t an option, they went North to Springfield and hit the jackpot. 

They found an old Costco on the outskirts of the city that had barely been hit. They filled and loaded up enough propane tanks to see them through the winter and then some. 

They also loaded up as much food as they could, and even found some usable meds left in the pharmacy there. They grabbed clothes and kitchen things like plates and pots, utensils, also managing to find a few things that had become rare and quite precious, like eyeglasses and sunglasses. They also found spare tires and car parts, and a few simple pieces of practical furniture. They took as much as they could load into the back of two trucks and a Jeep. 

Dean packed up one more big box, setting it on top of the others; it was just something he thought might come in handy. He refused to think too long about why he’d gathered together the things in the box.

They made it back to camp less than two days after they left, a record for a raid. They usually took a week or more because they had to scavenge through a bunch of different cities, and fight off masses of Croats. But this time, they didn't see any Croats at all, and they'd scored an incredible haul quickly, which meant that, barring some kind of catastrophe, they wouldn't have to go out again until the snow melted. 

They pulled into the camp around noon and Dean spent a few hours helping to unload the trucks and organize where everything went. When the campers saw the piles of booty in the trucks, people actually started clapping. An air of joviality pervaded as they all worked together to put things away until the next day. At which point they'd begin accounting for it all, sharing what was needed immediately, and then safely storing away the rest. 

Y/N and her students left their little schoolroom to come help as well and the kid’s eyes were wide and excited, looking at everything that had been brought back as though it was Christmas Eve. 

When everything was unloaded, Dean grabbed the box he’d put aside and brought it to Y/N who’d returned to the school to drop off the two folding chairs she’d claimed for the classroom.

He knocked on the open door, grateful for the hard wood beneath his knuckles this time. Y/N turned to face him and her eyes were almost as bright and excited as the kids’.

“Hi!” She said enthusiastically. “Wow, you guys sure brought home the bacon on this raid!”

Dean shook his head. “No bacon. It was fairly rancid.”

Y/N chuckled lightly and scrunched up her nose. “Yeah, wise decision to leave that behind.”

Dean nodded and set the big box on the plywood floor with a heavy thump. “This is for you. For the school.” He amended.

Y/N looked a bit dumbfounded for a moment and her eyes got even rounder before she dropped to her knees and pulled open the flaps of the box. 

When she saw what was inside her gasp was deep and her hands flew to her mouth. She looked up at him in complete shock before reaching reverently into the box to take out one of the books that sat inside.

“Books.” She whispered, as she stared at the paperback in her hands. She reached into the box again and pulled out another book and then another and another until her arms were full of them.

She looked up at him, tears falling and her gaze rapturous. “Oh my god, Dean.”

Dean felt his face flush and he looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just figured the classroom could use ‘em and they were just sitting there on the shelves. There’s a bunch of kids books underneath,” he said pointing inside the box. “And paper and pencils and some crayons, a few coloring books. There weren’t many of them so-”

He was interrupted as Y/N dropped the books back into the box and launched herself at him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tight. He stood stock still for a minute before he patted her back awkwardly and dropped his arms back to his side.

She pulled back and brushed away her happy tears, sniffling loudly. “Sorry. I just…” She knelt down again and picked up another book, holding it tight to her chest. She shook her head. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed books. It’s been years since I’ve even seen one let alone had the chance to read one.”

She reached in for one of the children’s books and laughed. “Oh my gosh, the kids are gonna be ecstatic.”

Dean shrugged, thoroughly embarrassed by Y/N’s joy and gratitude. He cleared his throat before speaking. “There’s a limited supply of paper and pencils, and I have no idea how long it will be before we find more, if we ever do, so…”

He trailed off and Y/N put the books back into the box and folded the flaps closed again. “So, we’ll be sure to write very tiny, erase a lot, and wear the pencils down to little nubs.” She said as she stood and bent to heft the box up from the floor. Dean stepped forward to grab it from her as she staggered slightly beneath its weight.

“You’ll break your back.” Dean barked at her as he reached for the box. 

But she just shook her head and turned away with the box still in her arms. “N’ah I’m stronger than I look.” She said, huffing and puffing as she dropped it onto the table. 

Dean shook his head. Yeah, I bet you are. He thought.

After a moment Y/N turned and walked slowly back towards him. “So, I can’t exactly buy you dinner as a thank you. But if you bring your rations over to our tent, I can cook them all up for us.”

She smiled at him, friendly and sweet, but Dean was backing away. “No, that’s not necessary.”

“I know it isn’t, but it will make me feel good to do this one small favor for you in return for this amazingness.” She said with a wave towards the box.

Dean planned to say no, had it on the tip of his tongue but when he opened his mouth what came out was, “Okay.”

So barely an hour later he found himself sitting at her table with dinner laid out in front of him. It was a sufficiently celebratory meal of salted venison from an eight point buck the camp hunters had taken down in early summer, boiled potatoes, and a can of green beans that was older than Emma.

It was the best meal Dean had eaten in a long time.  

After the food was finished and the dishes were washed, Y/N made them a cup of coffee and he sat drinking it as she settled Emma into bed with a kiss. His stomach was full of decent food, the coffee smelled old but still strong, and the sound of Y/N’s soft voice as she tucked her daughter in, was incredibly soothing. He found himself relaxing into his chair in a way he hadn’t in a very long time. His muscles lost some of their rigidity and he breathed out a long sigh, as though he’d been holding his breath for too long.

After a few minutes Y/N came back to the table and sat down with her own soft exhale. She took a sip of her coffee and then looked at Dean over the rim of her tin cup. “You know, I don’t think you really understand what you’ve done here.”

Dean cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, questioning her. She smiled and set down her cup, shifting slightly in her chair.

“Since all of this started, we’ve been on the move, Emma and I. In the beginning, when Emma was still a baby, I’d come across different groups of people and we’d travel together for a while or we’d manage to hole up somewhere for the winter and wait out the cold together. But inevitably the groups always fell away; sometimes we’d just decide to go in separate directions, but sometimes animosity or greed would take over and violence would erupt. People would fight over who was in charge and they’d fight over resources.” Y/N shook her head. “It almost always ended up a disaster.”

She shrugged. “So after a while, I just lit out on my own with Emma. It was scary as hell, of course - no back up, no partners, all on my own with a four year old. But it also meant no one stealing my stuff, or throwing me to the wolves at the first sign of trouble.” 

She took another sip of coffee and Dean wondered at the shadows in her usually bright eyes. What stories in her past had created them?

Her voice was soft when she continued. “It’s been incredibly hard and there’s been,” her eyelashes fluttered and closed, “there's been a lot of bad.” 

She set down her cup and sat back in her chair, rubbing at her eyes with her fingers like she was scratching out the images behind her eyelids.

When she looked at him again, her eyes were soft and warm. “So, to come here, to see what you’ve accomplished in just a few years?” Her voice was full of wonder. “Dean, it’s like a miracle. I mean you’ve made it safe here, at least a hell of a lot safer than anywhere else out there - there are guards protecting us! People work together, contribute their skills and strengths for the benefit of the group as well as themselves.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t seen anything like it in a very long time. What you’ve created here is an oasis.”

Dean snorted at that. “Oasis?” He asked incredulously. Her praise and wonderment made him feel an itchy kind of awkwardness. He didn’t deserve it.

But Y/N was nodding solemnly. “Yes. It’s a safe haven in a world filled with evil. What would you call it?”

Dean took a gulp of coffee and then licked his lips, looking at her for a moment before speaking. “Y/N this is only an oasis in the sense that it’s a mirage in a desert; it’s an illusion. We’re managing to get by through lucky choices and good timing. We push through from day to day, but I’m telling you this whole place could fall apart in an instant. One long, bad, winter, or one coordinated attack from another camp or a pack of Croats, and we’re done.”

He paused to try and let that sink in before continuing. “And the survivors here work together because it’s beneficial to them. But if things get desperate again,” he looked at her pointedly, “don’t think for one second that they'll hesitate to throw you to the wolves like all the others.” He shrugged. “It’s human nature, survival of the fittest, and anyone who thinks otherwise is gonna get trampled.”

He said it as a warning, still determined to dislodge the Pollyanna ideal of good and virtuous humanity from her mind.

But Y/N just smiled and leaned across the table to squeeze his hand. “Guess we’ll see. But in the meantime, you should be proud. No matter what happens, you’ve done good.”

Dean swallowed down the rest of his coffee in one gulp and stood up, pulling his hand away from her warm touch. He was desperate to get away from the softness and understanding in her gaze. He thanked her for cooking dinner and left quickly, promising himself as he walked back to his tent that he wasn’t going to do that again.

But as with most things to do with Y/N that decision didn’t last long, and soon enough that one evening turned into a bit of a ritual. Every few days or so Dean would show up with some of his rations and Y/N would combine them with what they had, and they’d all eat together at their tiny table.

Every time he left her tent, he told himself he’d had his last meal there with Y/N and Emma. Yet within a few days, he’d be back again. He told himself it was just something to break the monotony of camp life, just something a little different from the ordinary.

But the truth was he was beginning to crave the evenings spent across from Y/N, listening to her rattle on about her students and their achievements, or else answering her seemingly endless questions about the camp and how it had come to be. He even enjoyed listening to her talk to Emma, telling her stories before she tucked her in for the night. 

Once the little girl was asleep, Dean usually hightailed it out of there, because without the kid as a buffer it became much harder to ignore Y/N’s inviting lips and tempting curves.

But one night, three weeks after returning home from the raid, Y/N followed him outside as he abruptly left the tent. 

“Dean.” She called after him. 

The sun had set almost an hour before and the night was dark and cold; Dean returned to her side and admonished her. “It’s freezing out here, go back inside.”

Y/N just rubbed her hands up and down her arms and shrugged. “I’m fine.”

He shook his head at her stubbornness, and then waited silently. When she didn’t say anything right away he spread his arms wide.

“What?” He asked impatiently. 

“I just…” Y/N stuttered for a moment. “I just wanted to say that I really like when you come for dinner.”

Dean clenched his jaw as she looked up at him with heat in her gaze, an invitation in her eyes, plain as day. He told himself to walk away but instead, he raised his hand to trail his fingers down her cheek. 

“You should go inside.” He warned her again, even as he lowered his head towards her. “S’cold.”

Y/N shook her head. “I’m very warm.” She smiled and licked her lips and it was his undoing.

He yanked her up against him and crushed her lips with his own. He plundered her mouth with his tongue, inhaling her sweet scent and hardening at the way she clutched the front of his jacket and whimpered softly. He moved his hands so that one clutched at her waist and the other one grabbed hold of the back of her head so he could keep her pressed to him tightly.

He didn't know how long he would have continued kissing her, or whether he might have taken things even further. But luckily there was a loud noise of something crashing somewhere in camp, followed by laughter. 

The sound was like a bucket of cold water being poured on him and Dean ripped himself away from Y/N's mouth. They were both breathing heavily, panting really.

“Fuck.” Dean swore roughly before he turned abruptly and left. He fully admitted to himself that this time, he was definitely running away.

***

Dean barely slept and woke up the next day berating himself for the night before. For fuck’s sake he’d been making out with Y/N with her kid just on the other side of a canvas wall - kissing her in the wide open, where any other camper might have walked by. He didn’t need things to be more complicated than they were already. 

As the morning wore on, he made up his mind to talk to Y/N that very afternoon. He'd just tell her straight out that what happened between them just couldn't happen again. It was only going to confuse things and make everything harder than it needed to be. 

He nodded; he could do this. He was practical and he didn't hem and haw or tiptoe around things. He'd just tell her straight out how things were going to be. 

He knew she'd be in the big cabin as the school day ended, so he walked over and stepped inside the door, hoping she'd be almost done for the day.

Ever since he brought her the books, she'd been reading to the kids at the end of every school day. Parents had started swinging by the school, ostensibly to meet their kids, but really, they wanted to watch their kids' faces and listen to their giggles as Y/N read the stories in funny voices and occasionally got the kids to join her in acting out silliness from the books. 

But the crowd of parents and kids had gotten a bit too big for the tiny schoolroom, so on the last day of every week, Y/N had taken to reading to the kids and parents together in the big cabin. The adults usually sat on the floor behind the kids, keeping their hands busy with mending clothes or knitting, or else they stood at a table and worked on something like repairing holes in tents or making snares for the hunters. The work allowed them to justify their enjoyment of the stories. 

As Dean walked inside now, Y/N was finishing up the storybook in her hand. He could see it was The Paper Bag Princess and Y/N was on the last page.

“‘Ronald’, said Elizabeth, ‘your clothes are really pretty and your hair is very neat.” Y/N read aloud in Elizabeth’s decisive voice. 

“You look like a real prince. But you,” Y/N paused for effect, “are a bum.’”

All the kids were giggling as she read the last line. 

“They didn't get married after all.”

The kids clapped and even the parents were chuckling at the way the paper bag princess had put the snooty prince in his place.

“I love that story!!” A little redheaded girl in the front gushed. 

“It's my mommy's favorite story.” Emma said loudly. “Right Mommy?”

Y/N nodded. “When I was your age for sure.”

Dean pushed away from the wall he was leaning on, trying to signal Y/N so she'd hurry up and finish. But the little girl in the front demanded her full attention as she bounced up to lean against Y/N's knees where she sat in the chair.

“Cause your mommy read it to you?”

Dean was seriously considering ordering everyone out. He wanted to get this over with.

But Y/N's next words stopped him dead in his tracks. 

She was shaking her head as she tucked the little girl's red hair behind her ear. “No, my mommy passed away a long time ago when I was just a baby. So she never really got to read me stories.”

Y/N kept talking, but Dean only heard a hot, pulsing, rushing sound in his ears. A million thoughts were slamming through his mind at once as he felt a cold shiver run through him.

He yelled over the sound of the people around him beginning to chatter and get ready to leave.

“How?”

Y/N looked up at his bellow, her face shocked. “What?”

Dean was aware of his surroundings only just enough to brusquely order everyone out of the cabin.

“Now!” He barked and the mood in the room shifted quickly as parents grabbed up their children and gave The Boss a wide berth as his eyes burned at Y/N like green fire.

Everyone disappeared and it was just Y/N, Dean and Emma left. 

Dean felt his heart hammering in his chest as he took a step back from where she stood. 

Y/N's face was completely confused and clearly perplexed. “Dean what-”

He cut her off. “How?” He bellowed again before swallowing and asking in a slightly quieter tone. “How did your mother die when you were a baby?”

Y/N shook her head. “Why? What are you-”

“Answer me.” Dean's voice wasn't loud, but his words were clipped and he could hear the steel behind his words, feel the cold seeping into his bones as the tumblers in his mind fell into place, opening the lock concealing the reason behind Y/N’s miraculous survival of the virus.

Y/N blinked rapidly for a moment before exhaling slowly. “It was a - a fire. Some kind of electrical short or something.”

“In your nursery.” Dean said softly.

Y/N shrugged, her face scrunched up in confusion. “I'm not sure. My dad didn't really like to talk about it.”

As he stood staring at the woman with the bloodshot eyes, a moment from so long ago, once again from that first time they'd faced the Croatoan virus, materialized in his memory.

Again his brother's face bloomed in his mind, and he heard his own voice speaking.

“I swear I'm gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean why here, why now?”

And Sam's bewildered reply. “And why was I immune?”

Well now he knew why his brother had been immune. Because Yellow Eyes had wanted him to be, to make him a better soldier, a better, more powerful psychic to lead his demon army. And of course, he’d needed to be sure Lucifer's true vessel was strong and able enough to withstand the demon germ warfare he planned to release upon the world as a way to kickstart the apocalypse.

Dean stared at Y/N, angry beyond belief. Angry at her and what she really was, angry at himself for taking so long to figure it out and for falling for her game, and unbelievably angry at the universe for proving once again that it was laughing at him. 

His voice was ice when he spoke. “What kind of psychic are you? What can you do?” He shook his head. “What have you done already?"

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[waxingrunes]

I’m seeing too much of this across all channels and I need to write a little something on my humble blog with my humble amount of followers, because how else am I going to get this off my chest.

Some of you need to remember that this whole world we created is pure, fiction. It’s based off fiction and we are building off fiction, forking off in different directions with characters we love.

The canon vs fanon debate is ongoing and quite honestly, mind numbingly pointless and you all consistently contradict and overlap one another with whatever discourse you’re riding that week. You lot wanna argue a point by saying, “these are my hc’s and I can do what I like with them stop taking everything so seriously teeheehehehe” then uno reverse that the next minute by screaming, “that would never happen *insert name* is this or is that” but fuck canon right? Fuck JKR? Or is it more, fuck the parts of canon I don’t like and I’ll take the parts I do so I can shove them down the throats of creators who represent these characters in an opposing light. The amount of posts I’ve seen floating around these sites that are people preaching to their audiences about how dumb they are (unless it’s meant to be satire, I’m not a brainless sensitive lump with no humour bone) for liking certain things, or enjoying certain things, or preferring certain aspects in a character is astounding. Take pause before jumping on your high horse over a fictional character and shaming people for moulding them into what they enjoy. Is this not the beauty of fiction, imagination; the ability to twist and turn over different traits and appearances within our palms and make them into our own little dress up dolls?

Here’s my two cents as a WOLFSTAR artist, not a Marauders— if I want to make Sirius into a teacup and Remus into a sea slug and have him curl up to sleep every night in his bowl, then I’ll do that with fine china detail. If I want to make Sirius someone who refuses to wear nothing but a specific shade of tangerine and Velcro strapped trainers, I will. One day I might throw Moony into a boxing ring and have him be a middleweight champion, stained by the blood of his opponent whilst his wolf is chomping at the bit to come out just before the full moon threatens to take centre stage. If I want to make Sirius 6ft tall and Remus 5ft1, I will. Why not draw an AU of them as the rocks from Everything, Everywhere All At Once? Maybe, they can be something as simple as a boy and a boy who look the way you want them to look, fuck the way you want them to fuck and fall in love and fight, and scream, and cry, and make up a million different ways.

Let’s get more specific as the seal’s broken. Why not make Remus plus sized and give him a beard or a dad’s bod at age 23. Or maybe because he’s lighter haired he doesn’t have dark hair like that and only has a smattering of it across the ugliest of his scars. Consider this— moony with softer hips but fuller sturdy shoulders. Or long, slender limbs with a deceptively hidden strength owing to his wolf, stronger than James though he doesn’t look it. Onto Sirius, try to tell me I’m not going to put him in thigh highs and fem the shit out of him whilst he holds a bat in one hand covered in the blood of someone who tried to disrespect his Moons. Alert the press when someone erases every single one of his tattoos only to replace them with hyperpigmentation. What about giving him a beater’s build and a long thick trail of naval hair that he likes to call his ‘seeker’s delight’. What about a hairless Sirius who has a soft life and likes to make herself pretty for her 6ft 4 boyfriend every weekend when he gets on the train to visit.

How about, I stick with my personal holy take on the boys and present you with a harmless middle ground where Moony is whatever the fuck I want him to be physically, emotionally, or characteristically but always a wet fucking cloth for Sirius. A grape, under a thumb, you could say. And a Sirius, who is too whatever I want him to be physically, emotionally, or characteristically but will always be Moony’s biggest cheerleader.

Stay with me whilst I offer you the brain stretching, risky, taboo thought for you to ponder on: stop trying to please people. Stop absorbing all these takes that pressure you into thinking you’ve got to include every fucking thing that shaves you down and boxes you into their squeaky clean little creator! Indulge in what you like. Make it public, make it known and make it as loud as you want. Feels good on this side of freedom.

Lastly, quick (none of this has been quick) circle back to myself being a Wolfstar artist, not a Marauders one. I will not be shamed into drawing the women in this fandom, I will not try to even out my art with equal parts women and men, in fear of being called misogynistic. I came here for Wolfstar and I stay for them; I get 95% of my muse from them and enjoy drawing these idiots nearly every single day when I can. I’ve a busy life, a job, the luxury of a family that love me and a couple friends I’d like to keep too. If and when I draw, it’s going to be what I want to draw and want to indulge in, not to check off your boxes of inclusion. I am not going to defend my choice of indulgence to you. I am not going to refute women or wlw ships and in fact, eat up stories or art where they’re prominent. Will I have muse or will to do a piece on them? Probably not. If I do, I will and if it’s not done to a standard deemed appropriate enough by the council, well shit I hope I get an honourable mention in one of your hate threads on Twitter.

Grow up. I am the type of person who has a more or less rigid taste on these boys and what I, enjoy representing them like and you runts will run your throats hoarse before I turn an ear. I am not the type of person to see someone who doesn’t like what I prefer and start slamming my keyboard and slap them with a red card. I’ll move on but appreciate the take in silence. Some of you really, come across like you’re stomping your feet in a tantrum, some of you sound like you’ve never been told to shut the fuck up a day in your life and some of you, some of you, really think you’re a messiah.

Fuck your canons, fanons and righteous attitudes towards people who are quite literally, not real. You are not a deity of the Marauders, you are a fucking loser offline just like the rest of us.