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glaciertea · 2 months ago

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Tickets for Two

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader two-shot

Part 2

This is part one of this story that's been on my mind for quite a while.

Summary: Working the graveyard shift at a movie theater has it quirks. It's not the best thing, and it's not the worst.

Well, there is one thing that keeps you from leaving this job.

The huge, gorgeous man who comes in every Thursday.

CW: Nothing for this chapter, just having a crush on Miguel.

Word count: 1.7k

There was something about Thursday nights in the movie theater that always made you exhilarated.

It wasn't the smell of freshly stale popcorn that stunk up your nostrils or the fact that you were able to score the after-hours time slot on this day. The ones many would kill to have because after 9 p.m., the place is a barren ghost town. Oh, no. It wasn't one of those reasons.

It was him.

Throughout the year and a half you managed to survive working here; you've never seen a man like that before in your life. Yes, you've seen your fair share of attractive people come in and out; of course, this was a place to watch the latest hit-or-miss films. But this one, this one was different.

Tall, high cheekbones, a jawline that could shapren diamonds merely by looking at them, those piercing eyes, and those muscles. You always have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming.

He started coming three months ago for the ‘Traditional Thursdays’ feature presentation. Your theater would show old movies from the 1930's ranging to the 2020's or 2030's. It was a nice addition, as your boss wanted to have that “retro-style feel,” and it was pretty successful… if one were to go at the 9 p.m. slot. That frame usually brought in a decent amount of customers, but you were happy to not deal with that anymore.

You managed to get in the ten-to-one schedule block. It was a ghost town during those hours, especially with the midnight showings. You would lounge behind the concession, eyeing a few nightcrawlers emerge, but you would wait for him.

He would walk through the sliding doors exactly at midnight. Never a minute early, never a minute late. The actual film doesn't begin until 12:10 to showcase the following week's feature and a trailer or two.

So it gives him enough time to head in your direction. He has become a regular for you, always ordering a medium black roast coffee, a small popcorn, and a pack of gummy worms. It got to the point where you realized the items were never going to change, so you made it a habit to have them prepared for him on hand. You barely speak because you don't know what to conjure up, and you certainly don't want to make a fool of yourself, so you stick to the basic “Here's your order” and “Enjoy your film.”

He always responds with a “Thank you” or an “I appreciate it,” and each time, your knees will wobble. His voice was smoother than the butter that you poured on the popcorn. He had you weak. His chiseled profile, his domineering height—he was too good to be true. You want to know more about him, but he's very much to himself. You are intimidated by him; his demeanor can make him seem unapproachable, but that only draws you in more.

There will be a day you will finally find the courage to strike up a conversation. One day.

You just weren't expecting it to be today. You manned the concussion stand, eyeing the time and counting the milliseconds. It was, of course, slow, but you loved it. Easy money to you.

His order was fresh and ready to go; he was going to stroll in less than a minute, and you had to put a lid on your excitement. And like clockwork, he came in and made his way right to you.

Putting on your best smile, you placed the snacks and beverage on the counter. “I got everything ready to go, sir. Piping hot and a new batch of popcorn made.”

“Actually, I want to switch it up. I'm sorry for the inconvenience.”

Your brain practically malfunctioned. Not from the request, but from the fact he uttered more words to you. Your reaction must have given something away as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“If not, that's fine. I don't want you wasting supplies on me.”

Scolding yourself, you shook your head and waved your hands. “No, no! No, sir, it's not an inconvenience at all. I'll gladly ring you up with a new order. Anything for the customer.” You despised saying that phrase as it got so many ungrateful, smug idiots out of problems they decided to cause. But for him? You would repeat it endlessly.

Discarding the usual and clearing the order from the register, you nodded. “What are your taste buds tingling for?” Did you really say those words in that order? Your body suddenly wanted to combust.

The man raised a brow as you chuckled nervously. “That sounded... less dumber in my head.”

His lips turned upwards at that, and your heart stopped. He smiles? He can smile! You never once saw him do that, but if you did, you managed to miss it. He managed to look more radiant; how was that possible?

“Well, my taste buds are craving pretzel bites, fruit snacks, and... can I make my medium roast into a large?”

“Yes, sir, I'll try to get it done before the film starts.”

“No hay necesidad de apresurarse. Take your time.”

“Okay.” You squeaked out, hiding your flustered state from him.

Miguel rested his arms on the countertop and observed the way you moved back and forth, blending new beans and meticulously placing the hot pretzels in a bag.

“Here you go.” You reached down and took a packet of fruits and propped it nicely on the pretzel bag. “Steaming and raring to go.”

“Are you usually precise when making these orders?” Miguel pulled his wallet out and paid for the meal, leaving a nice tip.

“Kind of. Maybe it's because I have more time to do these things, and I like my regulars to enjoy nice treats.” You grinned and went to clean up his usual. “I hope you enjoy.

“I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Definitely keeping sure. Thank you again.”

You didn't know what meant by that as he took up his things and headed off to catch the film. You put your hand to your chest and calmed your heart rate, going on about your night. You honestly believed that would've been the end of that interaction and that the following week would revert back to the same old, same old, but you were far from it.

The next Thursday, he was there, but fifteen minutes earlier, asking for a new item from the menu alongside the other treats. You were once again thrown off, but that didn't mean you got to be near his presence more, and if not longer.

It started off with small extras. A bag of pretzels, sized up on the popcorn, an extra bag of candy—nothing too extravagant. However, as the weeks coasted by, the orders got bigger. A hotdog, flatbread pizza, sliders—those meals took you longer to make, but you did not mind one bit.

You got to chat with him constantly; when Thursday rolled around, you had that extra pep in your step. The conversations ranged from his tedious office filled with people of the same personality, the many tales of strange movie customers from you, or anything that springs to mind. He was awkward, loveable, and sweet, and your crush for him only grew more with each visit. To the point that it was overwhelming.

And it wasn't blowing away anytime soon.

You were fixing him up a basket of curly fries and chicken tenders casually yapping away when the topic of movie genres popped up.

“I'm into animated movies. They seemingly are able to convey more emotions than actual humans.”

Miguel enjoyed watching you; he honestly preferred looking at you than the film he was supposed to see. “I enjoy them as well. They tend to have moments that resonate with you on a higher emotional level.” He tapped his finger on the glass counter. “Do you have any favorites?”

“Hmm.” You rubbed your chin before moving back over to the fries and dumping some extra salt and pepper on them (they barely had any flavor to them). “I like a good Lixar film. It's funny how they're able to give certain things sentiment. Rather it's inanimate or not, they find a way. I mean, they gave a torso and sweater emotions. A sweater!” You poured the fries into the plastic basket and moved onto the tenders. “Now in particular, I love Bouillabaisse. Up is a heartbreaker, but I can understand the older man's pain. Searching Elmo is so gorgeous, especially for the time it came out. And Coco, that's a tearjerker. That ending scene when he's singing to her? Gets me every time.”

“I enjoyed all those as well.” Miguel took a sip of his freshly brewed coffee. “Especially the last one.”

“Oh yeah?” You grabbed some tongs and flipped the tenders to cook them evenly.

“Sí. A bit of a bias though.”

“A bias?”

“I share the name of the main character.” He stared right into your eyes as he said that.

“Miguel.” It was velvety as it slid off your tongue.

Was that a suave way of him giving his name? It never occurred to you that you actually never learned his name. He knew yours because of the required name tag, but you were glad to know it now and took it with no complaints.

“It fits.” You smiled and finally finished and rang up his meal. “I shouldn't keep you from the movie. I hope everything is of satisfaction for you.”

“You already know it will be.” He paid and reached for his goods when he stopped.

You crooked your neck and looked down to make sure you didn't miss anything. His usual and the new meal were there, so you didn't know what was up.

“Is everything okay? Did I mess up your order?”

“Everything is fine. I only want to…” he snatched up a napkin and scanned, even going as far as peering over the counter.

“Miguel?”

“Do you have a pen?”

“Yes?” You took one from under the register and handed it to him.

“Thank you.” He scribbled down at lightning pace and folded it half, sliding it across to you. “I'll see you then.” He bowed his head, snagged up his meal and left.

You had to wait several seconds to recover from your shock when you hastily snatched up the napkin and opened it up. You drew your lips to your teeth to prevent yourself from screaming.

There were ten digits written in blue.

#miguel fanfic #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #two shot

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randomshyperson · 9 months ago

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Old Yellow Bricks - Heart Shaped Series

Chapter Summary: The conclusion to the adventures of an international thief and an Avenger witch. Or the one where you stop skipping work, Valentina answers the phone and Wanda does an ultrasound.

Warnings: (+18), smut (wanda taking the lead ‘cause that’s hot), bl*wjob, unprotected s*x, creampie, more shapeshifting stuff, some supervillain drama, minor angst with a happy ending I promise. | Words: 7.094k

A/N-> Hey folks, yes, I know I disappeared for a long time but I was so busy and mentally exhausted that I couldn't keep writing anymore, and I used practically half of my vacation just to get a decent amount of sleep. This story was almost abandoned, but I decided to give it an ending, even if it was a bit hasty, out of affection for the plot and out of consideration for those who have followed it up until now. I hope you aren't too dissatisfied with the ending, I tried to address any loose ends and leave it open to the canon we already know. Good reading.

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Series Masterlist

-&-

It shouldn't come as a surprise that you got caught. But you did, mainly because for the past weeks you've felt so comfortable around Wanda that for a moment, you weren't you. No international bounty for your head, not gangs or supervillains or big schemes.

Just you and Wanda.

Your small argument with the Black Widow was to blame for your distracted state, but fairly, those men were probably following you for a while now, just waiting for the right opportunity to show themselves.

They weren’t aggressive, despite everything. You're just walking a little further from the hotel and this Van - Strategically hidden with paintings from a pest control service - was parked next to the sidewalk and you immediately knew. The door opened and nobody came out.

It was an invitation.

You took a deep breath and a last glance at the street before getting in.

The face of one of Valentina's most trustworthy henchmen, Mrs. Cassian Camorra, came to focus in the poorly lit car. He was not alone, masked guards armed to the teeth took every other seat. The only vacant spot was for you.

With a discreet shift, there was no longer much difference between your muscles and theirs. The change made the white-collar man chuckle at you.

“There's no need for that, reaper.” Says Cassian with a smirk. “We're not here for a fight.”

You stare at him with an indifferent expression, lifting your chin a little.

“The Guns send a different message.” You say but he smiles again just before nodding to the others, who immediately relax their alarmed posture even though they continue to listen to the conversation. In that small space, it would be impossible to do anything else.

You don't let your guard down but sigh once your eyes meet Cassian’s again.

“I don't go by that name anymore, Cass, you know that.”

He chuckles. “Would you prefer shithead?” He teases but you roll your eyes, wishing this conversation would end soon. He laughs again at your expression. “I still don't understand why you would be ashamed of one of your greatest achievements. The Reaper was a goddamn legend! The name gave people the chills!” He recalls excitedly.

You swallow, shifting in your seat. “Just tell me what you are here for.” You cut his enthusiasm with a sharp demand, managing to make your voice deeper. The security guard next to him has this immediate reaction of touching his gun, but you offer him a cocky smirk before focusing on Cassian again.

He adjusts his suit, one of his hands moving to his jacket pocket to grab something. A small purple cart is extended to you but you don't move a muscle.

“I'm not looking for a job at the moment.” You tell him but he chuckles, flipping the card to show you the back of it.

You thought it was the traditional mission paper with a coding at the back, for you to find target information but instead of that habitual info, there's a written number there.

“The Countess asks to meet in person.”

You don't grab the card. “If that is what she wants, then why didn't she come here herself?”

The man chuckles, and without giving a damn about the concept of personal space, he moves his hands to find your pocket and shove the card inside.

“The Countess is a clever woman, child. Why on earth would she talk business with your new superhero friends around?”

“They are not my friends.” You mutter, pushing his hands away with a slap before pulling the card out of your pocket. “And if she really wished to see me, her face would be the one to welcome me into this car.”

But when you make mention of getting up, Cassian loses some of the calm facade he kept so far.

“Sit your spoiled ass back right now, kid.” The bodyguards in the two seats behind you grab you by the shoulders, but their hands move away once you are back at your spot so you don't try to start a new fight. “This is the problem with Valentina's little freaks. You all think you're special. She's too soft with your type, so you grow confident in your insignificance. Let me tell you what's going to happen if you don't take this cordial invitation seriously, Lady Fontaine. Every favor for your protection, every deal, is off. You won't be CIA protégée anymore, you'll be on your own. For once in your life. That might talk some sense into your head.”

The anger is burning in your chest because of the cruel words but it spreads around with shame and guilt. Tears beg their way to your eyes but you keep your cheeks dry.

“I've been alone my whole life, Cass. You don't know shit.”

But he laughs, truly, as if you're joking.

“Alone? You? Hydra's golden egg goose?” He mocked managing some chuckles from his colleagues. “You're the one who doesn't know shit, you brat. You have no idea what people like us would do to have the kind of protection you so proudly display without a second thought. The mansions, the travels, the luxury. All that money. And don’t get me started on the attitude. The rest of us living in the gutter, trying to survive out of crumbs while freaks like you get to walk around like you own the world.” He narrates with a trace of bitterness and contained hatred that makes you shudder. “How many times have you walked out of prison? Do you think it's the same for the rest of us? That we get those same privileges?”

Some redness escapes to your cheeks but you manage to keep your cool.

“I have no power over how things happen in our line of work, Cass. And I am hardly the one you should be angry at. Those privileges you say, believe me, they came at a very high price.”

But Cassian rolls his eyes, dismissing your words with a hand gesture. “Fragile. You always have been. Crybaby should be your next nickname.”

You sigh impatiently and this time, when you move to open the door and leave the car, they allow it without any fight. Standing on the sidewalk, you hear Cass hold the door open and look at him one last time.

He leans for one last warning. “If you ignore her invitation, she will have her answer. And we will be back, this time, not for a conversation.” He lets you know with a little smile that makes you shallow hard. The possibility of putting Wanda in danger makes your heart miss a beat. And when Cass lets out a small exclamation as if remembering something, you somehow know it's not a good thing. He searches in his other pocket only to take a small photo.

“Almost forgot. She asked me to give you this. A gesture of trust, she said.”

But that was nothing trustworthy about Valentina being aware of you and Wanda's relationship, especially for such a long time. The picture is from a security camera and is clear by the poor definition, but still, that day is still fresh in your mind as if it happened yesterday. The Avengers fair you once infiltrate to find Wanda, only for her to end any plan you might had or ever could by kissing you. Inside those tents you were safe but outside, the camera caught the last kiss you stole from her before your departure.

The fact that Valentina knew about this, for so long, makes you feel sick in your stomach.

You don't take the picture - it's a symbol of the false freedom you possessed under Valentina's wigs. You storm off and hear the agents giggling and muttering threats before the car is gone, and so are you when you make a curve that takes you back to the hotel parking lot.

The whole thing made your blood boil. How dare she? What was she even after, what did that photo even mean? Was it a treat? Or it could really be a gesture of trust? Something like, yes she knew and she never did anything about it, so maybe Valentina doesn't want your complete misery. But then again, you know her well enough to tell that every action she takes is a well-planned one. If she knew about your relationship with Wanda and allowed that with no fuss other than a small bait in the first weeks, telling you to read Avengers files in an attempt to get you away from Wanda, then for sure, Valentina had a bigger plan.

And for once in your life, you're done with being the pawn.

Wanda's asleep when you're back in your shared motel room so you do your best to keep it quiet on your way to the bathroom.

This will be painful but you're confident you can manage, with your powers help at least.

The small device hidden under your ribs is a high-tech tracker and it's your last physical connection to your old life. It doesn't work unless you want it to, because it answers to a biological stimulation only you can provide. Baron von Strucker gave this to you as a work tool, if you were ever captured, you could call for help without anyone being aware.

You haven't tried to use the device purposefully in years, but sometimes, when being too hurt, it would activate on its own. And because it's quite easy to forget a hidden object behind your ribs, it occurred to you that it has been active since you bled out in Greece, the same day Wanda called to tell you she was pregnant.

The realization that Valentina was aware of your location for so long, Wanda's and her friends especially, rips a sob to your throat. It’s more painful to know you’ve been putting her in danger than the open wound.

You muffle down your crying the second you hear the bed shifting. But luckily Wanda doesn't wake up. Taking a deep breath, your shaky hands keep doing the hard work - to cut open with a medical kit's scalpel your skin so you can remove the tracker.

It's painful of course but it ends quickly. You don't need a badge but it does take a lot of energy to heal on your own so when you're finally back at the bed, after destroying the little device with a squeeze, storing everything else, and getting clean, you're quite exhausted. Stumbling around, you do a poor job of laying down without much noise.

Your girlfriend only grumbles sleepy in return before her magic brings you closer to her body.

-&-

“Wake up.”

It's less gentle than previous attempts, but Wanda had to do it. You were really disturbed in your sleep - mumbling and sweating as if you were running.

Your restlessness and discomfort disturbed her greatly, but she gives you a tender smile as she sees all the tension ease when you meet her eyes.

Sleepily, you close your eyes again the next moment and Wanda takes the opportunity to move the sweaty hair away from your face.

"You were having a nightmare." She mumbles, and she's almost sitting on your lap so you think that it would be a waste to miss the opportunity. Your hands bring her into the position with ease, but Wanda has concern on her face. "Talk to me, detka."

A smile fills your lips, and you remain in a half-asleep state. "I love it when you call me that. You're so lovely, Wanda."

A faint blush fills your cheeks, but Wanda is determined to clarify a few things. "You came back late and as big as a bodyguard. I want to know what happened." She says, and seeing you sigh with your eyes closed, she frowns her heart racing. "Did you find trouble?"

"No, everything's fine." You retort quickly, stubbornly. And Wanda tilts her head incredulously at the clear lie. You finally look her in the eye, and she thinks it's unfair that you're such a pretty liar. Unable to hold her gaze, you look away, the flush on your face more from embarrassment than anything else. "It was nothing." You correct, annoyed, and Wanda sighs at the whole thing. She hopes that one day, your barriers won't have to be so raised all the time and you'll be able to trust her by instinct. But considering the kind of life you've led so far, maybe something like that is just impossible to achieve.

She moves one of her hands to your face, caressing the skin tenderly. "If you can't put it into words, let me see."

You close your eyes again, nodding, and the invasion is almost immediate. The whole thing happens very quickly - Wanda is getting better at it. Accessing last night's memories is easy, the hard part is dealing with their significance.

When she comes to her senses, the room comes into focus again and so does your turned-away face. Pure guilt and shame in your expression.

"I'm sorry." You say promptly, your voice a bit tearful. " I keep fucking things up. I brought them to us because I forgot the damn tracking, and I got everyone in danger. I understand if you're angry and want to shout at me."

Wanda sighs at the words, shaking her head. "No one's going to be yelling at anyone." She says, her hands moving lower to pull your shirt up a little. She traces the new scar, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders as she sees that, apparently, you've healed fine.

"Don't ever do anything like this again." She says, and you sniffle.

"That was the only trace I had-"

"Not that." She cuts in seriously, waiting for you to look at her. Wanda looks more hurt than angry and that confuses you. "You can't just self-harm in the bathroom and sew yourself back up in silence. You have to tell me things. You should let me take care of you, all right?"

Aware that the warmth spreading through your chest is quickly creeping up your neck and ears, you give up on putting together a coherent sentence. You nod quickly, and Wanda gives a weak laugh.

"I'm not angry." She continues, adjusting your shirt again, although her hands remain underneath, drawing patterns on your skin as she speaks. "You're always so... jumpy. And you get into trouble like it's second nature. And you're so incredibly stubborn-"

"Thanks." You grumble ironically, but your annoyance turns into a choke when you feel Wanda shift in your lap. It's an intentional fit at your hips, she's probably noticed the bulge you'd forgotten you were even carrying now. And the fit takes the air out of your lungs and makes your body jerk gently, waking you up completely.

Wanda doesn't pay a second's attention to your reactions as she continues to talk. "You also have this habit of not letting me finish my sentences." She says with a little grin, her eyes dilating as your breathing starts to get heavy. "And I have to admit that you're hard work, but darling, you're worth every second of that effort. I wish I could take all the pain out of your past, but since I can't, I need you to understand that you're no longer dealing with things on your own. That I'm as devoted to you as you are to me."

These are romantic, intense, and considerate words. But Wanda is grinding slowly against your hips as she says them and you can only return a desperate nod, a deep moan tearing its way into your throat.

Wanda won't even let you lead - Your hands grab her barely covered ass through the oversized shirt she's stolen from you in an attempt to intensify the friction, but bright magic threads pull your wrists away in the next second.

With your hands pinned to the headboard, you can only squirm at the mercy of the woman on top of you.

"You feel bigger than last time, baby." She whispers, almost losing her train of thought during a particularly hard thrust against your hips. You struggle to breathe.

But Wanda stops, and you bite back a sigh of frustration as you stare at her in a mixture of desperation and curiosity. She works with a certain urgency on your underwear, but instead of rewarding you with her warm cunt, she moves away until she's between your legs, her nails scratching your thighs.

"W-wanda, what are you doing?" You ask, suddenly very shy, your eyes slightly wide. She giggles, as her magic removes your underwear completely, and she leans in, planting kisses on your thighs that make you shiver.

Her dominant hand finally grabs your length and it's not very gentle so you let out something between a moan and a whimper and Wanda looks at you with a certain regret.

"Sorry, babe." She says softly, still holding you now more carefully. "I've never done this before."

Your mouth is dry, and your eyes want to close and just enjoy the sensation, but you fight these instincts to speak. "Done what, Wanda?"

She giggles mischievously, and her hand moves slowly, giving a tentative squeeze that makes the muscles in your thigh twitch. "You know what." She says in return, although you both share the strong blush on the cheeks, Wanda seems more confident about what she's about to do. "It can't be that hard. And if I do something wrong, you can just tell me to stop."

"Wanda, you don’t have to-" But she leans in, and unceremoniously takes your member into her mouth. You break down in an aroused sob, arching up on the bed.

It's heaven, you're sure. Wanda Maximoff decided to wake you up with a blowjob, it’s a gift from the heavens that you must definitely don’t deserve but you won’t complain. You struggle against the magical chains just as you struggle to breathe and not to come immediately when Wanda continues to suck you off.

It's sloppy at first - as she mentioned, she had never done that before. But the lack of practice doesn't make the act any less deliriously enjoyable. You feel very close very quickly and have to use all your concentration when Wanda meets your gaze, mouth full.

"Jesus." You groan, your whole body vibrating. Wanda pulls back, licking the tip and your eyes roll back. "Fuck."

She revels in your moans as much as she does in the whole thing. She can feel her own core throbbing at seeing you so pathetically at her mercy, but she wants you to finish first. Her hand moves to help and with each lick of the head leaking pre-cum, your body jerks in a way that makes the bed shake.

"Come on, baby, you can cum." She encourages you firmly as she alternates between sucking and licking. "You need this. And I got you."

You cry out the warning, and Wanda takes your whole length so as not to waste a drop. Your back arches on the bed, and the hot shot is deep into her throat. Wanda moans in return, making a mess all around as you try to return to orbit, your chest heaving and your body jerking.

She kisses your now flaccid member, biting back a smile as she watches the final throbs. Taking advantage of your state, Wanda resumes her previous position on your lap. Her magic fades from your wrists.

Just the brief rubbing of her thick thighs against you is enough for Wanda to feel you harden again.

"Are you sure, babe? You're still shaking." She asks teasingly, but all you give in return is an affected chuckle, your hands helping her to settle into you. The invasion happens slowly, and Wanda groans satisfied at the proof that yes, you are bigger. The stretching is gentle, and it's not painful because she's soaked, but it's still there and she has to bite her lips as she slowly sinks down until you bottom up.

Panting together, you watch her adoringly, your hands on her hips helping her move.

Wanda doesn't rush things. She rides you leisurely, feeling every inch of your cock inside her warm walls until the slowness is too overwhelming.

Her hands rest on your shoulders, and you don't care that her nails are digging into your skin because Wanda feels too good for you to think of any other sensation than that tight pussy wrapping around you.

She holds your gaze, and between the grunts and moans she lets you know; "I love you." You can only nod, trying to gasp the same when Wanda suddenly bounces harder.

One of your hands grips with more strength, enough to mark the skin and she has to grab the headboard for a firmer support.

You groan at her nearly roughness; "Easy, woman." You try, even though she's grinding vigorously and the room has started to spin. "Wanda, damn it. Be more... ah... careful. You're pregnant...slow down… God."

She comes first, which is a surprise because you honestly don't know how you managed to hold it for so long.

You're still coming inside her when she collapses on top of you, falling down against your shoulder. But then there's satisfied laughter filling the room, and a joke about that being a very incredible way to start a day.

-&-

It's decided that you guys need to move as soon as you and Wanda are properly dressed and Wanda has encouraged you to be honest with the other Avengers.

And she also doesn't need to be a mind reader to know that there's something wrong with Natasha, who doesn't offer more than a mumble of agreement and doesn't say anything about you keeping a tracker jammed in your ribs all this time.

While Wanda goes out to buy breakfast for the team, you stay behind and busy yourself packing the bags. But she is recognized at the grocery store near the motel when she tries to buy breakfast. It's just a child and her older sister, wanting photos with an Avenger, but it still causes her so much anxiety that she goes back to the bedroom with something more than food: a box of hair dye.

"I thought I'd follow Natasha's idea." That's what she gives as an explanation, and you laugh confusedly but end up believing it until Wanda has bleached spots and ends up confessing what really made her late.

You're standing in the doorway, and she's focused on painting her hair, her eyes meeting yours through the reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"I'm sorry for not saying it right away. I just didn't want to worry you."

You let out a sigh before offering her a small smile. "No problem, love." You assure her, reaching over to pick up the empty box of the product and read some of the labeling on the back. "I'm more concerned about whether pregnant women can dye their hair."

Your comment makes Wanda giggle. Her magic continues the process of coloring the spots, and she busies herself with washing her hands at the sink.

"Well, most pregnant women can't manipulate energy and move things with their minds. I think I'll survive." She jokes back, sticking her tongue out at you when you smile. It ends up being a small grimace battle before you return the empty box to the garbage can and lean in to steal a kiss from her.

Wanda smiles through it, but her cold, wet hands reach under your blouse and make you jump. She laughs at the reaction, and you can barely notice the time passing as you play with each other and wait for the dye to finish settling on your locks.

When Wanda disappears back into the bathroom for a while, you wait for her to finish washing her hair and nothing really prepares you for the new look. Your girlfriend is slightly shy as she reappears, the towel still slung over her shoulders.

"So, what do you think?" She asks about the red hair and you swallow dry, speechless. Wanda blushes immediately, a nervous giggle escaping her lips. "What?"

"You look..." Your voice fails you and you have to clear your throat. "Really beautiful."

Wanda smiles, but then raises an eyebrow, gesturing gently in your direction. "It does seem that you truly like it, dear, I'm flattered."

You blink in confusion, before following her gaze and noticing your own body, and the bulge in your pants. Grinning in embarrassment, you quickly cover yourself with the nearest pillow. "Sorry." You mumble with your ears burning, but Wanda giggles, glancing quickly at the ajar door.

"I wonder if we still have time before we leave." She comments, scarlet threads appearing through the wood with the thought of closing it, but as if guessing the intentions of a delay, the door suddenly opens and Captain Rogers is practically pushed inside by Natasha.

"Nice change, Maximoff. But I hope your suitcases are ready." That's what the widow said, and she looked stressed, most likely because of all the stories about her adventures the night before. If your embarrassment over the tracker story wasn't enough, there was the other one you were trying to hide under your pillow. Wanda disguised it better than you, nodding quickly to the widow and gesturing toward the ready backpacks. "Steve can you take these to the quinjet please, I want to have a word with Romeo and Juliet."

The Captain sighed, trying to ignore being made a baggage handler - Muscles must be good for something - and offered you and Natasha a sympathetic look before leaving the room.

The widow closed the door but you spoke first. “Listen Nat, if this is a second scolding for the tracker, I've already made sure it can't be retraced and-"

"That's not it." She interrupts you with a certain determination, then a forced smile. "I've found a doctor for you. For Wanda, to be more exact."

The now red-haired woman gives Nat a surprised look and it's you who asks; "Are you sure it's safe? Risking a medical appointment in the situation we're in."

"You underestimate me."

"I didn't mean it like that."

But Nat smiles genuinely, shrugging. She checks her watch.

"We're actually going to meet her. Apart from Banner, she's the only doctor I trust."

You and Wanda exchange a look before nodding to Natasha in thanks. Your girlfriend then asks; "That's not all you wanted to talk about, is it Nat?"

The widow nods, seeming to get upset for a moment.

"I'm not saying this for the tracker story, I swear I'm not, but... maybe it's better if Y/N doesn't stay with us anymore."

Wanda snorts indignantly, ready to protest, especially as you lower your head.

"We stay together-"

"I know." Natasha cuts off Wanda's defensiveness with a sigh. "I wouldn't expect otherwise." She mutters, taking a deep breath to gather her courage. "Rogers doesn't agree, you know how protective he is over you. I mean, he was pretty indignant when Tony tried to ground you in the Tower. Anyway, that's not the point. Clint left. He accepted a decent deal until things settle down, and yes, they will settle down. I know it feels like our world has turned upside down overnight, but we need to remember why the Avengers were created in the first place. It's only a matter of time before they need us, all of us again, and maybe it's experience talking, but I've seen so many governments collapse and rise again. I have seen this movie before."

The widow vents and you and Wanda don't have the heart to interrupt her.

"What I mean is that Clint can make a deal for his family, and maybe you can do the same."

Wanda thinks for a moment until she swallows. "I'm not an agent with years of military service to my credit. General Ross would never offer me a deal."

"Not him. And not to you." Natasha retorts, turning her face towards you.

You sigh deeply as you understand exactly what she's implying. " Is there really no other option?"

Natasha gives you a sympathetic smile. "That's not an ultimatum, mercenary. Just think about it. None of us wants a pregnant woman in the life of a fugitive, and don't make that face Wanda, I know you don't want the baby to be in danger either." Your girlfriend begrudgingly shuts up, knowing that the widow is right. "Just give it a thought. Melina has agreed to do the prenatal care, so you have all this time to make a decision."

Natasha nods in farewell before heading out the door, and you turn to Wanda.

"Do you have any idea who Melina is?"

-&-

In the safety of the Quinjet and the untraceable lines of the Avengers, you call Contessa Fontaine.

The first thing Valentina says when she sees your face in the high-definition hologram is a scolding; "That tracker was worth a billion dollars."

You have to laugh, your back resting on the cold metal of the ship. "Can't say I'm sorry, boss. Having a tracker in the middle of your ribs doesn't scream work ethic."

She gives a short laugh, and you realize from the surroundings that she's in the private room of the Fontaine Mansion, a place you've been to countless times before.

"What can I do for you, my dear child?" She asks, slightly impatient. You swallow dry.

"Your people said you wanted to see me." You comment.

Valentina laughs wryly. "Oh, yes, in person. Not talking through an Avengers line. You must have lost your mind."

"There are no more Avengers, Val, you know that." You retort, and she smiles in satisfaction.

"Touche." She mutters before raising her bright eyes to you. "But let me guess, they're listening to this conversation."

You sigh impatiently. "What difference does it make? I've been with them for weeks. I could have told them all the secrets I know about your work, but I didn't. Just as you didn't inform General Ross of their location. So how about we stop playing games?"

Valentina gives another evil little laugh, nodding. "Oh, dear, I miss our conversations, you're always so direct and attentive. Yes, I didn't hand over Team America to Ross, because unlike that arrogant fool, I have no interest in seeing our heroes trapped in the Raft. Only someone like Ross and his ballistics background would think of something as stupid as taking out Earth's main line of defense for threats we have no means of dealing with." You remain silent at Val's words, and she takes a breath to continue. "You know me, Y/N. I like my... enhanced ones. I understand the grandeur of this new world, men like Ross, impressionable with colored rifles, don't."

"So... you've been trying to help the Avengers?"

She breaks into a laugh. "Help? Don't go that far." She retorts grinning. "Let's say we had allied objectives up to the present moment. And I have no reason to put them out of work, you know? In any case, perhaps a little time out of the spotlight and struggling will lower some of their egos. It's a shame that Mr. Stark always seems to shrug off the consequences of his actions, he could learn something without having billions to spare."

You sigh without patience for the speech, adjusting your body. "Val, speaking of money-"

"Oh, it's about time."

With a short laugh, you continue; "I need mine."

She looks at you for a moment, before smiling. "Your money has always been yours to use. Nothing has changed."

But you force a smile, not quite believing it. "Everything has changed, Val. I don't want Lady Fontaine's money. I don't want to be one of your pawns. I want a new account, a new life. With everything I've worked to earn."

"And what makes you think I can give it to you?"

You snort, rubbing a stress point on your forehead. "Please, Val, don't take me for someone naïve, who doesn't know the extent of your influence."

But Valentina sighs deeply, resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, to look at you intently.

"In fact, I'm beginning to think that your naivety is indeed remarkable and, unfortunately, my responsibility." She comments, and you chuckle ironically and indignantly, but she doesn't let you question it. "There is no new beginning for you, Y/N. Not the way you're asking me, not the way you really want. You're deluding yourself if you think I can bring in false documents and billions of dollars without anyone ever finding out the truth. That's not how things work. The bill always comes, and a past so stained with red always catches up with people like us." She says and you swallow, not having the heart to interrupt when you know deep down that she's not lying. Despite her seriousness, Valentina's gaze softens: "I know it's not what you wanted to hear, but all is not lost. You've been walking around for weeks with someone who committed as many atrocities as you did, and yet have been allowed to experience the greatest version of freedom a criminal can get."

It takes a moment for you to realize that she's talking about Natasha. You glance quickly at the main area of the quinjet through the glass of the private room they got you to call Val, and your former boss uses this time to light a cigarette.

"I'm not a black widow."

Val chuckles. "Of course not, they fight much better." She comments and you grimace. Val takes a slow drag, blowing smoke against the camera before continuing to talk; "Speaking of them, you should thank your new friend sometime. The amount of black widows she's put on the market looking for work is what's given you so much time off. I'm not short-staffed, thanks to that."

"I'm glad the rescue of trafficked women has given you new employees, Contessa." You sneer in annoyance, stepping out of the way of the video and ignoring her confusion to tap lightly on the glass. The Avengers outside look up at the same time, but you wave for Natasha and Wanda to come inside.

"Where'd you go, little bird?" Val asks the wall, and ends up choking on her smoke as the faces of the two Avengers come into focus next to you. "Oh, hello. What an honor-"

"Cut it, Val." You interrupt annoyedly, squeezed between Natasha and Wanda on the seat in the room. "Make your proposal. I want Romanoff to tell me if it's true, because she's the only one with any real experience of these things, and well, Wanda's my partner and she should be up to speed."

Your former boss smiles impressed. "What a lovely thing, a thief and an Avenger, my eyes can hardly believe it."

You snort impatiently, but Valentina doesn't keep up the teasing. She nods, before turning her attention to the personal computer next to her phone. As she types, she repeats her earlier proposal. "I need to work on it first, dear. But I understand it will be something very similar to the agreements Miss Romanoff signed with Shield when she was hired as an Agent. Serving the American government entirely in exchange for freedom."

Natasha looks at you. "Is that what you want to do? Be an Agent?"

But you shake your head, offering her a sad smile. "There's no more Shield to recruit me. And I don't think I'm fit to be an Avenger anyway. But Val is director of the CIA. She could offer me something perfectly legal. And I could have an almost normal life."

"But what about the Sokovia agreements?" Wanda asks in concern. "You're an enhanced one."

Before you can answer, Val hums and grins. "Oh, I can see why you like that one, she's clever." You roll your eyes at the provocation, wishing you'd gone to see Val in person and could pull a gun on her to make her behave. Your boss stops typing and turns her full attention to the three of you. "Miss Maximoff has a very good point. If you wish to work with me at the moment, a CIA Agent contract, you would be legally obliged to sign the Sokovia Agreements."

You snort impatiently. "I'm not signing something that would force me to become a lab rat again! And certainly not something that says Wanda should be behind bars or-"

"Relax, I didn't say I was going to make you sign it." She cuts in. "And you're the one in a hurry for a new job after all. I don't understand the hesitation to do something that could be entirely bureaucratic if you stay out of the spotlight."

You hesitate, and exchange a quick glance with the two women next to you. Natasha shakes her head in the negative, but Wanda sighs.

"I'm pregnant."

Valentina chokes on her cigarette again, and Natasha covers her face with her hands. You don't know how to react, and Wanda keeps talking.

"Y/N is doing this for us, and if your partnership has meant anything other than work all these years, I know you'll help her."

But Valentina shakes her head, chuckling incredulously to herself. Wanda begins to worry.

"I don't want to appeal to sentimentality, I'm just asking you to be considerate. Job or not, no one is going to put my family at risk. I won't take it lightly if your people follow and threaten her again."

But Val gestures quickly. "A child, little bird? How can you keep this a secret from me?"

You sigh tiredly. "It wasn't exactly any of your business."

But Val leans over to pick something up from the table, and you frown as you recognize your old research file. "Except, well, it's entirely my business." Val retorts seriously, her eyes running over the pages she's leafing through. Until she lets out a small exclamation. "Yes, here it is. Strucker specifically wrote that you were infertile. And that was a disappointment of course, because everyone who gets an enhanced one, would love to make more of them."

Wanda looks at you with confusion, but you stand up as if you're going to choke on the attention, taking the cell phone with you to the other corner of the room.

"I know exactly what those pages say, you don't have to read them to me." You retort angrily. "Strucker had to believe that he couldn't have more of me, okay? I couldn't..." Your voice falters, but you control your emotions by swallowing hard. "I did what I had to do. The changes to my body so that he would never find out. So that no one would find out. But when I'm with Wanda, I just... I don't think about the past. I can breathe, Val. And it happened. And I'm asking you, if your mentoring has meant anything all these years, to give me a chance to be more than a goddamn puppet. Please."

Your boss remains silent, thoughtful, before sighing and offering you something like a sincere smile, however small.

"Ten years, little bird."

You frown in confusion. "What?"

"Ten years." She repeats. "That's the most I can offer you. Your money, a new identity, a fresh start. Think of it as extended maternity leave. The child will be old enough for boarding schools, and I'll charge you for the services."

"I-I..." You hesitate, looking at Wanda who has an expression that says she can't make this decision for you.

Valentina stands up, taking the phone with her. "I'll work on your contract carefully. Nick Fury is not a foolish man, little bird. He sees the world as I do, the dangers that surround us and that must come from the outside. I like the idea of a team working on my behalf, but it's too early for anything like that. Especially with everything that's happening with the first team." Val continues, and you swallow. She gives you a genuine smile. "And of course, all those years have meant something to me. You're the first person I'd trust with the job."

You want to tell her that this isn't the kind of meaning you'd like, but you think that work reliability is all Valentina can offer you. You nod and thank her and she says goodbye before hanging up.

Natasha thinks it best to leave you and Wanda alone for a moment, and when you sit down on the floor, Wanda sits down next to you. Silently, she holds your hand and rests her head on your shoulder.

"A lot can change in ten years." You murmur, and you don't need to explain for Wanda to understand your hope that you won't have to fulfill any contracts. She squeezes your hand tighter because the decision has already been made.

Your cell phone vibrates again, not with the CIA contract, but with your new documents and bank account filled with all the money you've earned as a mercenary. It makes your stomach turn with the feeling that you've just sold yourself again, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Wanda turns away to look at you and waits for you to do the same. Once your gazes are connected, she raises her hand to your face and pulls you in to kiss you softly on the lips.

"I'll always love you. Nothing will ever change that." She whispers against your lips, her forehead resting against yours. "I need you to promise that you'll always remember it."

You caress the wrist of the hand she holds to your cheek, and continue with your eyes closed. "I won't remember anything else."

She smiles, ending the distance again.

You kiss for a moment before you pull away to press your lips to her forehead and squeeze her hand.

"We'll be fine, Wanda. It's me and you, and just one baby. We can manage."

She smiles tenderly, nodding before hiding her face in the crook of your neck and sighing as she repeats the words. "You're right. Two of us, and a whole team of grumpy superheroes to handle one little baby. How hard can it be?"

Six hours later, Melina Vostokoff carried out Wanda's first ultrasound, which would reveal not one, but two little boys growing inside her womb. Both of them had a natural inclination towards superpowers.

But that's another story.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #heart shaped series #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagines

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wosoamazing · 8 months ago

Text

Qualifiers

Warnings: Knee Injury, IDK

A/N: Just a bit of a fluffy fic I guess, hope you like it, also I'm currently on mid semester break, so I hopefully will be getting more fics out.

“Steph, have you noticed they’re behaving? Like it’s so quiet” Caitlin remarked as she sat opposite Steph on the bus.

“No, they’re not behaving, they are just asleep.” She replied pointing to the seats where you, Kyra and Charli were all fast asleep, your head leaning on Charli’s shoulder. Everyone shifted their bodies so they could get a view of the three of you, all taking photos, finding the scene in front of them very cute.

“They’re so cute,” “Yeah when they aren't being menaces, Y/N is a really sweet kid though, she just has a lot of energy, I think that stems from….” “Yeah she is great, and such an amazing talent too,” Caitlin rescued Steph as she drifted off, hoping to cover the unfinished sentence, Steph was about to mention your ADHD to the team, all the girls at Arsenal knew about it but Steph hasn't asked you if you were okay with the Matildas knowing.

“How old is Y/N though?” Raso asked

“She turns 17 in June,” “Oh so she is like a baby” “Yeah,” Steph nodded, smiling at you.

“She lives with you and Dean right?” Alanna asked.

“Yeah. Her parents approached us when they found out she was singing for the club and asked if we could take her in, in a way, and we said of course. The club signed off on it and so she moved in with us”

“Wait, how do her parents know you? Or was it random?” “No, we knew them, well more specifically her Dad from our time at Melbourne City, most of you would know him too, he is like on the board or part of the leadership team or something for City as a whole, she explains it much better than I do, but basically he is between all the city clubs and so she couldn’t live with them because they didn’t want her to be alone for long period of time.” They all nodded

“How is she going at Arsenal? She’s been getting a decent amount of minutes hasn't she?”

“Yeah she has. I think she really enjoys it”

“But wait, why does she play for Arsenal if her Dad works for City. Like are they not City fans?”

“Well I don't actually think she is allowed to play for city, but she grew up supporting both Arsenal and City, so I don’t think it really mattered. But I think the main reason is she can't actually play for city.”

“I think she’ll be good for the team, and she is a diverse player, I think Jonas being indecisive has helped that but I mean, it wouldn't hurt to have an all rounder, she is good at everything. I’m just glad she has settled in well, like I know you are all nice and wouldn’t be mean but she is just so much younger, even compared to Kyra. But to be fair she did already know Kyra so that helped. But if anything I’m seeing her more with Charli than Kyra so that is interesting” Caitlin added some food for thought.

“Yeah and something we need to keep an eye on.” Steph said referring to you and Charli spending time together, worried Kyra was getting left out.

_____

You were doing mini drills in teams, so you had a brief break. You walked up to Steph and gave her a hug,

“Hey little one,” she said as she wrapped her arms around you to hug you back “you okay?”

You looked up to her “Yeah, am I not allowed a hug from my Stephy?”

“No, you are, of course you are. I just wanted to check if you were okay. You just seem a little off today that's all. But you know you can always talk to me about anything right?” Tony called both your names out as Steph was finishing what she said, so you let go of the hug rolling your eyes at her, before she put her arm around your shoulders and you walked off to Tony.

“Go have showers and get changed into clean training gear, the media team wants you both. Good work today though, love the effort.”

_____

“Yes Y/N” Tony said as you had your hand up, “Dad is calling me, I’m really sorry but could I answer?”

“Yeah sure, go ahead that is all good, let him know I said hi,” you nodded and walked out, normally Tony wouldn't let such a thing happen, but as you were younger he agreed.

You had just gotten off the phone with your parents, unfortunately they couldn't come to the game tomorrow, City needed your Dad for something, he was very apologetic and he had tried everything he could but City wasn't budging. Steph was right when she said you had seemed off today, because you were, you were just a little overwhelmed by everything that was happening, it was just lots of little things building to form one larger thing. You headed back towards the room feeling nervous for some reason, maybe you just weren't sure, you didn't really know, you hesitated slightly before opening the door, as you took a step in Steph immediately caught your eyes, she nodded to you and you made your way over to her rather than returning to your seat with Mini, Haper, Charlie and Kyra. A few tears left your eyes and Steph sat you down on her lap instead of you sitting down on the empty chair, you dropped your head into your hands and your body shook slightly as you silently cried. Steph rubbed your back as she looked up to Tony, who nodded at her and mouthed ‘go’.

“Hey, I’m going to take you up to my room, do you want me to carry you or do you want to walk?” You didn’t say anything but started walking, she followed behind, once you were out of the room you stopped and turned around to her, she picked you up and started heading for her room again. You weren't actually rooming with Steph but she knew you would want to be with her tonight, for some familiarity, so she placed you down on her bed before quickly going to get what you needed.

“Oh sorry,” Hayley said as she walked into the room, seeing you and Steph, you were still crying, you were just overwhelmed.

“It’s all good, we’ve both had showers so if you want you can have one.” “Thanks.”

By the time Hayley had finished her shower you were no longer crying however you still let out a shaky breath every now and then and from how you were playing with Steph’s rings she could tell you were still nervous. “Hey, you know you’re going to do amazing tomorrow, and if you make a mistake that's okay we all make them, and if you miss, that's okay as well, it happens, we’re humans we can't be perfect. But no matter what we are all going to be proud of you and the way you perform isn't going to affect how we all view you. You know they asked me how I would classify our relationship today, and I told them you were like my little sister. You know I love you right?” you didn't reply but nodded your head, she was a big sister to you, really everyone at Arsenal was like your big sister too you. A yawn escaped your mouth, “Lets get some sleep hey,” you shuffled around to be in a more comfortable position before you softly spoke “I love you too Steph”.

“Is she okay?” Hayley asked now that you were asleep. “Yeah, her parents just can’t make it to the game tomorrow and I think she is kind of scared, but she will be okay,” “Yeah, she is a great player, like really, I might head off to sleep now if that is okay with you,” “Yeah, see you in the morning.”

___

In the 22nd minute you scored your first national team goal, you were ecstatic however 5 minutes later that feeling disappeared when you were pushed, causing your knee to lock before twisting, you heard a pop in your knee, as a pain of wave rolled over it, the world around you went fuzzy, this couldn’t be happening, it couldn’t be your ACL, you couldn’t handle that, this was your first cap and now you might be out for 9+ months. You were quickly pulled back to reality by Tony calling all the girls over, who were surrounding you, they all dispersed except for one, who was wiping your tears away, as the medics assessed you. They gave you a green whistle before they stabilised your knee and moved you onto the stretcher, Steph wiped away the last few tears that appeared on your face, before placing a kiss on your forehead, you were then quickly taken down the tunnel, left in your own thoughts, you were so badly hoping it wasn’t your ACL.

There were about 25 minutes of the game left when there was a knock at the door, “come in” the door opened slightly to reveal Steph, whose eyes immediately melted when she saw you, your knee was heavily strapped and in a hinged brace, a pair of crutches leant against the bed.

“Oh, Y/N/N,” she said as she approached you, wrapping her arms around you.

The physio explained to her that you had dislocated your knee slightly, but they were able to put it back in place, she also explained that you had to keep the tape and brace on at all times, until you saw the specialist back in London, she explained they had booked in an appointment for you as well as an MRI.

“Is there any idea of when she can play again?” Steph said, now holding your hand in hers.

“We aren't able to say anything yet, there is no way of knowing what other damage was done, until she gets the MRI, the specialist will be able to tell you everything though when you see them.”

“Okay, thank you, are we able to head out to the pitch, or does she need to stay in here?”

“No, you’re all good to go out. I’ll give you two some space, just let me know if you need anything.” Steph nodded, you looked up to her, her gaze meeting yours.

“Do you want to go back out?” You nodded, “Okay, let's go.” Steph helped you get off the bed and she walked beside you as you slowly made your way back out.

The full time whistle was blown and the stadium erupted, the Matildas had just qualified for the olympics, Steph picked you up and spun you around, “We’re going to the olympics baby!”, you couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t we it was her, their last number 20 did her ACL, maybe the jersey just came with bad luck.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #matildas #auswnt x reader #auswnt #steph catley x reader #steph catley

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mrinafria · 7 months ago

Text

[contains spoilers]

I'm an eternal digger of good narrative techniques. A decent story becomes great in my eyes if the narrative is done right. And it's one of the hardest things to do really, since there's no one-size-fits-all rule for what technique works well with a particular story and what doesn't. One of the primary reasons I keep obsessing over Lovely Runner is its' narrative technique. In all honesty, if it had a linear, singular narrative, I would not be hyperventilating over it on a constant basis (I still would just a certain amount, because both Byeon Woo Seok and Kim Hye Yoon deserve awards for what they are doing). One reason it has managed to knock it out off the park and take the top spot in my forever-favorite list is how wonderfully well the narrative is done.

The primary perspective used in this show is Im Sol's. It's through her we're introduced to the story. Her perspective gives shape to the plot, the characters, because we learn things through her. Her perspective is absolutely critical for exposition. Without her thoughts and way of viewing things, you would never realize why saving Seon Jae means so much to her, or why she would bend the rules and bulldoze ahead when it comes to his safety (exhibit A, her leaving home on the day of the accident, despite knowing about her fate). She'd rather have him alive than have him in her life. Without her narrative, you'd think it's really all about a fan saving her idol (thanks to everyone who'd rejected the script listening to that pitch by the way, I'm grateful we have BWS and KHY as the leads because of that, I would not change it for anyone else). With Im Sol's perspective, you realize, she is not just a fan: she's an ardent admirer, a cheerleader, a well-wisher, a protector, an invisible friend trying to support her friend any way she can, someone who respects Seon Jae, sees him as an idol but also as a human, someone who wants to give back to him the same kindness, empathy and love she had once received from him over a radio call. To her, Seon Jae is first a guardian angel and then an idol, the angel who changed her view of life, made her appreciate things even amidst all that could be wrong with the world and her life. He saved her. Not just on that day at the hospital but every time she struggled and faltered since then, he was there, as invisible as it may have been. So this time, she wants to save him, no matter the price.

Then comes Seon Jae. Oof. If Im Sol's perspective gives the story its beautiful, beautiful shape, Seon Jae's perspective breathes literal life in to the body of the story. The show wouldn't be what it is today if not for his perspective. Without his view into things, Im Sol appears as a fangirl going to extreme measures to save her idol, clinging onto him like a monkey (yes I mean the poster) embarrassing the heck out of herself, making you cringe (in a good, enjoyable way) throughout. Then you reach the end of episode 2 and it knocks the breath out of you because WHAT DO YOU EVEN MEAN. It all clicks.

All this while we kept thinking Seon Jae was caught off guard and just kind enough to tolerate her antics, and maybe he'd slowly fall for her now, only to realize we were completely oblivious to a whole different side of the story. If Im Sol's narrative draws you in and keeps you hooked, making you root for her to succeed, it's Seon Jae's narrative that makes you irredeemably fall in love with them and sincerely, genuinely, desperately hope they get their happy ending together after all the storm.

And the motifs. Walking/running, for instance. I'll focus on just one scene here. I recall seeing a bts where KHY is discussing the OG 2008 accident scene, and it explains how she has to slow down, while running away, for just a moment, only to be hit by the taxi driver. Have you ever been in a situation of absolute panic, desperation and stress, then suddenly found a familiar face or a name or a thing you could connect to, and felt a wave of relief rush through you? She sees Seon Jae, a person who is calling out her name. Even if she didn't know him back then, the fact that he knew her (and that he had his uniform on), gives her a sense of safety she badly needed that moment. That momentary relief, so visible in her features, then overtakes the crippling fear she felt running in the middle of nowhere with no one in sight in the dead of the night. Her body, already exhausted beyond anything, responds to the relief she feels for those few seconds, slowing down her steps.

And that is when she is caught off-guard and hit. That also might have added to Im Sol's anger at the hospital when she is screaming at Seon Jae, her internal anguish that if only she had not paused seeing Seon Jae, and kept on running, then maybe she wouldn't be hit, wouldn't fall, wouldn't lose her ability to walk. It's one thing to have tropes and symbolic things, but it's a very different thing to know how to use them effectively so they elicit very specific types of emotions/reactions out of people. Lovely Runner excels in that. All kdramas more or less have 'things' that take on different meanings for the couples/viewers. It's the way motifs are used to narrate the story in this one that has me going back over and over again to all the episodes aired so far. These are not just their 'things', these are 'things' that drive the plot forward, tell you about their characters, their personal motivations, what they mean to each other and so much more.

This is getting longer that I intended it to be so will end with this. I feel valued when watching Lovely Runner. And I've seen people saying the same thing. It feels like they respect your critical thinking skills, and your ability to infer, so they don't spoon-feed you everything from the get-go, and you can't predict much despite it being primarily a rom-com. You'd be pulling your hair out (again, in a good way) trying to figure out what they will show next, and you will be somewhat or very far from the truth, which will compel you to think further about the story, the characters, long after an episode has aired...I can't remember the last time it happened with a drama. I love this storytelling.

#Lovely Runner #Byeon Woo Seok #Kim Hye Yoon #Sun Jae #Im Sol #Seon Jae #선재 업고 튀어 #kdrama #kdrama recommendations #east asian drama

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eamour · 8 months ago

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Hi i don't know if you'll reply/repost this ask but i really believe what i have to say is needed to help people in the manifestation community i am only sending this to you because you are one of the few active ones with a decent following that can get the word out..

The amount of complications people in this community have brought upon themselves is just infuriating and annoying the amount of creators/blog writers that come up with something new every week are just deceiving and preying on people who want to have a better life if you care i hope you'll post this.

Lies and overcomplications like;

'You shouldn't feel lack' 'don't focus on the 3d' 'know that you have it and go on with your life' 'this is the only way you can manifest' 'don't try to affirm or visualize it won't work its just endlessly affirming' 'feel it know' the amount of 3d and 4d 'live in imagination' is all a bunch of bs what Neville said is not the final! And you all seem to forget that

You can do all that and still get what you want sure! you can manifest this way too but why overcomplicate it?

(Yes there is a possibility that spreading this misinformation may not be necessarily intended to cause harm and might be just a misunderstanding from bloggers as well but it still causes to harm to those who are vulnerable and are just wanting to better their life and learn about manifesting)

None of this matters you are the only one who makes yourself manifest and there are many ways and you can use any way/method the problem on tumblr is people push only one way no you don't need to be fulfilled in imagination or 'know you have it and shut up in order to manifest sure Neville found a good way but its not the only way but the amount of people here who push this as if it's the only way and say if you don't do this you will never manifest are fcking playing with people's time and energy! i'm here to root for how far visualization affirming and robotic affirming goes,just for the average person its just such a quick and easy and 'failproof' way to 'get you desires' you don't need to hate the word 'get it' or something like that you don't have chase after knowledge or understanding to 'finaly manifest', when i went back to watching sammy and just affirming with no care about believe the thoughts no care about things like 3d or 4d no care about fulfilment or doing it to get it or anything like that...I've been carefree i don't worry at all...we are always learning about life and spirituality but you don't need an awakening or some sacred knowledge to manifest

You can read these posts that helped me but please no more,thats it no need to scroll and scroll and search for an answer

You don't need to read it all throughly just get the main idea you're good (most of them are short)

https://www.tumblr.com/imperfect777/744087420843245568/stop-scrolling-on-tumblr-twitter-pinterest-etc?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/miracledarling/715265433528320001/the-key-to-manifesting?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/sp0iledprincess55/744703729957257216/100-proof?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/dreamsintoreality111/672119540555153408/hey-do-you-prefer-to-change-appearance-through?source=share

My tips and experience..

All this time after being kinda obsessed with the void state (don't even get why people renamed the i am state by Neville lol) trying all things but just being lazy giving up restarting and going back to the old way of thinking, thinking 'why i fail' but now looking back and realizing i just got distracted and stopped never persisted .... now i realize how easy it is but what tumblr was doing was just discouraging me all along so many people lied or were misguided and said 'don't endlessly affirm just decide' implying if you try affirming you'll do it endlessly and never have what u want.. and so i listened....i used to watch sammy after a few videos last year i joined tumblr for a few 6 months at some point i was just reading things which have already been said and read..so i quit and decided to delete tumblr to just actually apply because reading the same thing over and over is no use...i'm now watching sammy ingram again so this is what i vouch for, affirming and thoughts watching sammy ingram (if just deciding or knowing seems like its not for you sammy ingram is great and in my opinion if i also just know or decide its mine then by affirming aren't i just reminding myself..'knowing' & 'deciding' in a way too?) again sammy joe dispenza is more helpful compared to tumblr over 6 months... i have logged back after a month typing this rn to help people and will delete my acc today even the creators i used to follow haven't posted in weeks and i urge people to leave tumblr after a certain point please live your life.

posting this for everyone who is currently overcomplicating the law and beating themselves up for not "doing it right". ♡

i want to add something: you can believe in all of these things (such as "feeling it real" instead of "affirming to get") and if it works for you, that’s good! that’s quite literally the law. but if it’s the opposite for you, if you think that it’s too much work and you would rather robotically affirm to get your desire, then do that.

i have seen both sides on tumblr and twitter, and they are both successful. it’s up to you what you want to make work for yourself!!

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arcane-ish · 5 days ago

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I breaks my brain a little that "Piltover is forced to respect Zaun more when they need them to fight against an enemy from the outside" is actually the less shitty and condescending take compared to the writers potentially actually thinking a long running conflict with HUGE economic interests involved and years of inequality is gonna be solved by "Piltover is so touched over the death of one certain Zaunite child that they feel bad and fix Zaun".

I laugh bitter tears. Like I watched a decent amount of the Politics of League/Arcane vids (like the Skyen one or the Color of Fascism one) and I always thought they were way, way, way, way too optimistic that Arcane was gonna have any interest on really exploring systemic oppression and/or inequality and taking a hard stance on it.

That because there are Piltover characters who have to be portrayed in a positive light, it is BOUND to be some sort of centrist solution.

And yeah, as much "Zaun become ground troupes for Piltover against an imperialist force, tons of their people die and then they give Sevika one seat on the council" was poorly explored and it's kinda shitty, it feels like something roughly analogous to real life dynamics.

While the "Piltover feels so bad about one cute girl dying they get rid of systemic oppression" is such an offensively polyanna outlook on the world (and like grossly infantilizing of Zaun) it's just pukeworthy (and yes I don't think they meant it that way, they probably just thought of it as people should be in awe of Vi's death. But that just makes jack shit sense. Vi is not the first Zaunite child that died. Vi means something to us the viewers and to her relatives, but there's jack shit reason for Piltover to give a shit). And yes there are cases where one sad child picture (Alan Kurdi) changes things, but I would argue you notice they usually don't change for long and not systemically and I feel the "the death of an innocent child instantly leads to the end of a years long conflict" probably feels particularly gross to all the people who are emotionally invested in the Gaza conflict.

That's why I'm just gonna say the writers who supposedly said that are on crack, none of that is stated in the show (ie if Pilties helped so much, wouldn't it make more sense if Mylo and Claggor were working together with Piltover students, or if like let's say Caitlyn was hanging around the Last Drop?) and I'm just gonna pretend it happened not because Pilties spontaneously felt bad about it but because SIlco expertly manipulated public opinion and they combined it with let's say strikes and blockades.

ETA: And there were people seriously thinking that Arcane was taking an ACAB/anti police stance. And instead we have the Jinxer who was personally persecuted by the police donning a uniform, fighting side by side with the enforcers and dying for them.

#arcane critical #zaun #vi #silco #vander #politics of arcane

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knight-a3 · 16 days ago

Text

Heavenbound AU Masterpost

Alastor Redesign

I've spent an absurd amount of time researching deer, microphones, and 1920s-30s fashion for this. I'm by no means an expert of any of it, but I'm decently confident enough for some fictional depictions.

I'll include some notes under the cut, which does get a little long. I doubt other characters will get this detailed, but Alastor has a lot of design themes and motifs that were a bit too ingrained to remove. Everyone else is either simple in comparison, or much easier to simplify.

Alastor also just catches my interest in ways the others don't.

Design notes (I'll add edits notes as they come, should it be necessary)

My goal was to design him in a way that still felt like the same character, just altering the aspects I thought could be better. So a radical change wasn't what I was going for. That said, I had a logical reason for most of the changes I made.

--Deer-- Quickly, there's some regional terminology to clear up. In Europe, elk often refers to what North Americans call moose. And the NA Elk is sometimes called by an alternate name, "wapiti". I had never heard the term wapiti before researching this. And since I live where NA Elk are native (Rocky Mountain region), I think my terminology takes priority. Alastor would call them elk too. Before anyone says Elk aren't deer; yes they are. The word 'elk' basically means "big deer." They look similar to the Red Deer (Similar looking antlers, but elk are bigger, second only to moose, which are also a species of deer). It used to be believed that elk was a subspecies of Red Deer, but that's apparently been proven false. In NA, there are five main species in the deer/cervid family(listed from smallest to largest): Whitetail, mule deer, caribou/reindeer, elk, and moose.

Deer Sounds If you haven't heard deer sounds, I promise they aren't what you'd expect. Fanfics authors like to describe him making deer noises, but I'm not sure they realize what the sounds are actually like. I'll describe some noises, but search for them on Youtube, for both males and females separately. Using these terms will help you find specific examples. I listened to so many just trying to figure out how to describe them. Snort-They make a huffy blowing sound when alerted or alarmed. Often sounds like a bark. It's basically sounding the alarm. Does often make it when they're being harassed by bucks. Grunts- sounds like a croaky or clicky groan. Sorta like a frog or a pig. Sometimes sounds like cattle's moo. There are casual grunts, curious grunts, frustrated grunts, submissive grunts, low-drawn-out dominance grunts. Bleat- sounds more whiny, sheep-like, and higher pitched than a grunt. But it doesn't sound like a goat or sheep. It's used more by does and fawns. The younger it is, the higher the pitch. Really young fawns will sound like a little meep or maa. Snort Wheeze- sounds like a sniffy huff, followed by extended "F" sound. "sniff sniff Fffffff" There's a lot of air to it. It's basically an insult or challenge. Elk Bugle- much higher pitched than you'd expect from such a large animal. More so than a deer. It's an eerie, high pitched screech. They're basically broadcasting their location, looking for cows. Bulls will bugle back and forth, competing for attention. Elk chuckles and grunts- shorter versions of the bugle. Sounds kinda like monkey hoots. Elk Bark- alarmed or irritated. Sounds like a small dog's bark. Elk Chirps and mews- It reminds me of the curious sounds the dilophosaurus from Jurassic Park made. Or seagulls. They're just chatting.

What deer is he? Based on what I've observed, I don't think he was designed with any specific species in mind. I've seen others say his antler growth is most like elk, but I've found it inconsistent at best. Elk noises are used in the show, but that's because they make a distinct and eerie sound. More impressive than a deer's grunt or snort and wheeze. Personally, I think whitetail makes the most sense for him, since that's the species that would be most prevalent in Louisiana. While I'm basing him primarily off whitetail deer, he is a fictional deer-looking demon man, and doesn't have to perfectly resemble any single species of deer. His bright red color is clearly not realistic, for example. So I will incorporate some aspects of whitetail, mule deer, and elk, since those are the prevalent species in North America. I've given him a whitetail deer tail, but with the white swapped to black. That doesn't make him a blacktail deer, because that is supposedly a subspecies of Mule deer, and the tail does not look like what I am going for. Mule deer have proportionately large ears, and so does Alastor. Fans like to think they're soft and fluffy, but they aren't. I have felt deer hide, and it is NOT soft. I doubt it would be significantly different on live deer. Especially if it's anything like goats or cows(not even sheep are as soft as you'd expect). Deer ears are not positioned as low on the head as domestic livestock, but they aren't directly on top either. I wanted to maintain the upright position, because he didn't quite look right otherwise. I think I managed to get a decent balance. When he's particularly relaxed, his ears aren't as upright, but he rarely lets himself put his guard down like that. So it's basically just when he sleeps that they relax. His antler growth will vary based on a few different factors. When he is feeling confident and composed, the growth will be more typical to either of the three species. Whitetail or mule deer antlers will be more elegant, while elk antlers will be more intimidating due to the sheer size. But the more emotionally/mentally unhinged he gets(anger, fear, desperation, etc), the more nontypical his antlers will become. Which means there will be extra points in abnormal patterns. It's basically an indicator that he's not quite in control. He hates how it basically announces that, but very few people know that detail.

Anyway, here are a few references

--Life and Death-- For simplicity and easy math, I'm putting his birthday around 1900, give or take a year. He died 1933, which means he was around 32-34. Not very old, but not super young either. Lots of fans headcanon that he's biracial. Usually with a black Creole mom and white dad. His dad is often portrayed as abusive. Alastor is often thought to be fluent in French(Creole French). I want to propose an alternative. His mom is half-black half-white, his dad is white, and Alastor is consequently a quarter black. He is distinctly white-passing. He knows some Creole French, but is not fluent. I just think this could make for some interesting dynamics. Just to shake things up, his parents cared about each other and his dad wasn't abusive. But his father died in WW1, when Alastor was a teen. Instead, his uncle(father's brother) was racist and abusive towards them. Without his dad around to fend off the abuse, Alastor ended up killing his uncle in self defense and dumped the body in the woods/swamp/bayou. He had no remorse, and was rather enamored by the experience. Alastor always struggled with empathy. He was the type of kid to kill animals out of curiosity, and was fascinated by it. He felt more alive when watching the life fade from their eyes. His dad taught him to hunt, and he enjoyed the thrill of catching prey. A big part of hunting is understanding the prey's behavior and manipulating them. His parents taught him not to hurt other people, but after killing his uncle that went out the window. He justified it by "hunting" people he decided deserved it, in some twisted sense of vigilante justice. Really, he was just looking for an excuse. He primarily used guns(rifles for a clean kill, shotgun for efficiency, pistols "just in case" an unexpected opportunity presents itself) and knives for a real hands on experience. But in the end, if it got the job done, it could be used. He dabbled in magic and demonic deals while he was alive. He has a pop-culture-voodoo aesthetic, such as dolls that are connected to people and such. But I won't refer to it as voodoo, because I don't want to misrepresent actual voodoo. I will just call it shadow magic and be making up my own rules. More on it later. Radio was a comparatively mundane part of his life. It was his more relaxing pastime. He'd broadcast anything he liked. News, gossip, music, jokes, whatever. He could talk for hours, and his charisma was captivating to listeners. He did live shows too. An open mic was free game. While not aiming to be a musician, he was a decent pianist. He liked saxophone too. He preferred to dance though, and not many could keep up with him, even after some whiskey or rye. He died after being attacked by a rabid dog. He survived the attack, but contracted rabies, which there is no cure for. It attacks the central nervous system and fries the brain. Once symptoms appear, it's a death sentence. He went mad, and a fellow hunter put him out of his misery by shooting him in the head. He thinks it's an embarrassing way to die, so he's told a few alternate stories, sometimes with a grain of truth. He's amused by the gossip and speculation. Nobody knows the true story. These stories include the usual headcanons floating around. Let me explain why I don't like the usual death headcanons Mauled by hunting dogs- Hunting dogs are not supposed to kill the prey, just help the hunter find and catch them. A hunting dog that bites the prey might spoil the meat. To have a whole pack do that means those are horribly trained dogs. I don't buy it. Mistaken for a deer and shot by a hunter- Hunters should not shoot anything if they aren't certain of what it is. Otherwise they risk shooting something they don't have a permit for. At minimum, they should be checking to be sure they are aiming at a buck or a doe. To mistakenly kill a person is absurd. Also, to hit perfectly in the center of the forehead?? That had to have been intentional.

He started killing overlords partly because he could, and partly because they meet his criteria for "deserving it". He remained anonymous about it at first for a few reasons: 1. it was how he worked as a serial killer in life. 2. He enjoyed the thrill of the hunt and getting away without getting caught. 3. Watching everyone panic about the mysterious overlord killer while totally unaware it was him(seemingly unassuming) was amusing. Eventually, the novelty of anonymity wore off(partly because there weren't many consequences to getting caught like there would be in life) and he revealed himself as the mystery killer. Then he enjoyed the reputation and Overlord status. Eventually, being feared bored him too. So now he has to find some new games to play, which is where the Hazbin Hotel comes in.

--Fashion:1920s-30s-- Clothes: Men's outfits typically consisted of a shirt, waistcoat/vest, jacket, trousers with belt or suspenders, and potentially an overcoat if weather permits. If it was cold, I think he'd wear a black overcoat, to reference his earlier designs. I had to shorten the jacket a smidge, because they usually wouldn't be as long as in canon. Unless that's supposed to be his overcoat(in which case it shouldn't be so form fitting) The jacket lapels would generally be pretty wide. The pant legs would also be wide. Some of the pant styles could get rather absurd by todays standards. The basic idea was loose and boxy. The jacket, vest, and pants would be the same color if it could be afforded. But for the sake of visual interest, I've decided to ignore that. Neckties were more common than bowties. But that's more just an excuse for me to reduce the ridiculous number of bowties the show has. Belts were starting to become prevalent, especially in America. Since my research indicated that hunting clothes would use belts, never suspenders, I figured Alastor would favor belts. While hunting, he'd were a buffalo plaid shirt, a hunting cap, and some silly looking pants that were wide at the thighs, reinforcement around the seat and knees, and tight from the knee down, with either boots, gaiters(a shoe/calf cover to help keep clothes clean, similar to spats), or puttees(leg wraps that do the same thing, as well as provide support).

Monocles were used as a portable option for reading glasses, and not worn constantly. They were used to correct farsightedness, not nearsightedness. But they were fading in popularity, in part due to the association with prominent German leaders during WW1. Basically, I don't think the monocle suited Alastor.

Hair: I headcanon that his hair is actually fur. And as I said earlier, deer fur is not soft. It's pretty coarse and wiry. He probably sheds a lot too. His canon haircut is atrocious, so I had to fix it. The look of the time was short sides, long top, and slicked with styling wax. I've styled his hair in what I think would be the closest approximation to 1920s-30s fashion he could manage. Since it's fur, I don't think the wax would do a whole lot for him. He makes do with an approximation of a tousle top, which is basically minimal wax and slightly disheveled. Facial hair was not really in style in the 20s, due to the availability of razors. Cleanshaven was the ideal, especially in America. If a man did sport a mustache, it would be something neatly trimmed, like a pencil mustache. (I'm not totally sold on how I've done his hair in the below image. I may add some wave to it later. Also, don't mind his gun, I just didn't feel like drawing it properly.)

--Microphones-- I think Alastor would actually stay pretty up to date with a lot of things. But most people don't really realize it because he commits to his aesthetic. In regards to technology, if it has improved functionality, and fits his vintage style, he'll go for it. For microphones, he can summon whatever kind he wants. There are a variety of styles and types to choose from. I don't have any practical experience, but I did try to figure it out to a degree. There are three basic types he'd use, and they can look vintage just fine. Dynamic/moving coil: these are durable and less sensitive to background noise. It's the only one you can trust to survive a mic drop. Good for stage. Probably what he'd take out and about, because of the durability. Condenser: sensitive to sounds and capturing detail. Good for recording. Requires some extra equipment to prevent self-noise. Ribbon: Produces natural, smooth, warm sounds. Common in vintage mics. Probably Alastor's favorite, but they're fragile. Pop filters and wind guards help protect it from pressure changes.

--Color-- I tweaked the colors so he wasn't so overwhelmingly bright red. Overall just darkened his palette. His hair is a warmer shade of red than his suit. I also didn't think the green magic suited him. So his magic is more in the red to yellow range, because it matches his eyes and teeth(which glow, btw). Green will be an indication of either something poisoning his magic, or it's a borrowed power. I haven't fully committed to just one, and it might depend on what direction canon takes with his soul owner.

--Magic-- His stitching is an indicator that he's not really as composed as he seems. He's always a few threads away from tearing apart, but when he does he can always pull himself together again. He's in constant pain, but has also become so accustomed to it that he hardly notices anymore. I think he stitched his smile on himself. He wants to be smiling, and sewing it in place is how he can assure it never slips. It's part of his pseudo-voodoo aesthetic. Alastor was known to make overlords disappear, which shouldn't be possible without angelic weapons. But few people knew about angelic weapons before the show(himself included, I'm pretty sure). So I was left to ponder what he could have done to make victims disappear. I'm thinking the little shadow puppet gremlin creatures are the tattered remains of souls he's torn apart. I don't want to refer to them as voodoo dolls, so they will either be called variations of shadow puppets or gremlins. He usually offers fair deals, with or without a soul contract. Souls he owns--like Husk and Niffty--are added to his collection of minions, each minion has a gremlin that represents their contracts with him. But there are some that Alastor feels don't deserve fair treatment, so he tears those souls apart to broadcast their screams of eternal torment, then claims the remains of the tattered souls(whether he had a contract with them or not) and stitches them up into the shadow puppets. That way, they don't regenerate. Husk was lucky Alastor liked him, and offered a deal instead of just tearing him apart. Again, I don't want to misrepresent actual voodoo. So at most, it would be a corrupt version mixed with various pagan witchcrafts. It will just be referred to as either generic magic or shadow magic. If I need spooky symbols, I'll just make up my own. It will probably involve X shapes, to match his death mark. He became a powerful demon so quickly because he's clever, ruthless, and dabbled in magic in life, and was making demonic deals in life. Already having deals and practicing shadow magic gave him a significant boost once he died.

Some examples of his shadow puppet gremlins, plus his personal shadow buddy, which may or may not be the gremlin that represents himself:

--Wendigo-- No, I don't think he'd a wendigo. I personally don't think he was a cannibal while he was alive. He was a hunter who enjoyed the thrill of the hunt and liked venison(deer meat). The people he killed would be those he found disgusting, so I doubt he would have wanted to eat them even if he was so inclined. After death, he became venison himself, which can be perceived as cannibalism, I guess. He was cursed with insatiable hunger, which prompted him to branch out to more cannibalism from desperation. He still favors venison, which gets the closest to satisfying his hunger. Being dead has made him less concerned about cleanliness and hygiene, except when it affects the image he wants to portray. Then he became acquainted with Rosie, who was a cannibal in life. None of this makes him a wendigo. The concept of a man-eating monster or cannibalism isn't exactly unique, and I don't see a reason to apply that specific term to him. The original mythology of the wendigo does not include an antlered creature. I'm pretty sure that was more of a pop-culture addition during the 1900s. They're also more common further north where there are colder winters. Most descriptions say they are essentially ashen-skinned, emaciated-looking people(look at the game Until Dawn for a good example of that). Coincidentally more similar to the people of Cannibal Town. I doubt that was intentional, but the resemblance is still there. If any character was a wendigo, it would be Rosie. But I don't intend to explicitly make her one either.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #heavenbound au #a3 art #digital art #character sheet #fanart

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wolfjackle-creates · 10 months ago

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For the ask game, can I request the Bad reveal AU? That's the one where Danny finds out about Bruce being Batman and freaks out right?

Ha! Yes it is! Finally something I can just toss a snippet at!

I've got a decent amount written for this. However, I switched over to Dick's POV so it's been challenging. (First time writing from him.)

I also was trying to keep it short when...the story doesn't want to stay short. So I'm rewriting it. Which is taking longer than I'd like because I've got an action scene in this one and I'm terrible at writing action scenes. (Which means I need to write more of them, I know.) So I'm taking my time trying to make it good.

Chapter 1

1.4k words (okay, so more than a snippet.)

---

As soon as the laser left Danny’s weapon, Dick sprinted towards his brother. But before he could get more than a few yards, Danny disappeared. Into the cave wall.

“What the fuck,” he muttered, but changed course to check on Bruce.

Tim and Damian continued on, rushing to the wall.

Duke was kneeling by Bruce’s side and trying to keep him from getting up to search as well.

“Where’s Danny?” demanded Bruce.

“B, lay back down,” ordered Dick. “Danny’s gone. Apparently, he can density shift.” He couldn’t quite keep the hysteria out of his voice and Bruce’s frown deepened. “But Tim and Damian are checking the cave wall to see if he left any clues behind.”

Of course, his words only made Bruce struggle even harder to get to his feet. Duke could do nothing against a determined Batman.

“You have to let us look at your leg, B,” said Dick, pushing him back down with Duke.

Bruce glared at him. “I have to find Danny.”

Duke snorted. “How do you expect to be able to do that? He literally disappeared into the ground. Along with his suspected power of invisibility? Where do we start?”

Bruce slumped at Duke’s words and Dick used the chance to examine his leg. Danny’s weapon hit him in the upper thigh and his pants were half burned, half melted into the wound. The injury itself was about six to eight inches in diameter and the center was absolutely a third degree burn.

“Besides, Bruce. You really can’t walk on this. Third degree burns and we’ll have to get Alfred—or maybe even Leslie—to debride it.” He looked around to check on everyone else.

Tim and Damian were still by the wall where Danny had disappeared, but Jason was standing nearby frozen.

“Jason,” called out Dick, “can you get Alfred? I have to cut off Bruce’s pants so we can actually get to the wound.”

Jason seemed to shake himself and when he looked at Dick, his eyes were a bright green. Instinctively, Dick shifted until he was crouching more protectively over Bruce. Jason’s eyes narrowed and he sneered. “What the fuck do you think I’m gonna do to him?”

Dick glared right back. “Just get Alfred.”

With a huff, Jason turned. “Whatever.” But he did take the elevator up, allowing Dick to relax.

“Duke, could you get a pair of shears and a kit from the medbay?”

“You’ve got it.” He rushed off.

“B, how’s the pain?”

Bruce grit his teeth as he finally let himself look down at the injury. “I’ve had worse.”

Dick only had time to roll his eyes before Duke was back with the supplies. He took the special scissors designed to cut through their uniforms gratefully. “Thanks. Gonna start cutting off your pants, now.”

Before he finished, Tim and Damian were back. “How is Father?”

“Nasty burn,” replied Dick.

“I’ll heal,” said Bruce at the same time.

“Yep,” agreed Dick. “We’ll wait for Alfred or Leslie to look over it to say for sure, but so long as it doesn’t get infected, I expect he’ll make a full, if slow, recovery.”

Damian gave a curt nod.

“Far as we can tell,” said Tim, “Danny really did density shift through the wall. There’s absolutely nothing unusual about the place he was standing. No hidden crevices or passages.”

Bruce closed his eyes and sighed. “We’ll have to go over everything we have on his former life.”

“And research the things he referenced just now,” added Tim.

Alfred and Jason returned just as Dick finished cutting as much fabric away from the injury as possible and he happily seceded his place.

He clicked his tongue. “Master Danny did this?”

Damian nodded. “After everything Father has done for him, he chose to attack him in his own home.”

Jason snorted. “We all know it wasn’t that simple.”

Damian didn’t say anything, but did look away. Clear admission of guilt from him.

Alfred cleared his throat and everyone fell silent. “What sort of weapon did he use?”

Jason shrugged. “He had some sort of silver energy weapon. Not a design I’ve ever seen before. It shot a Lazarus-green beam.”

Alfred hummed. “Well, the injury looks normal enough. Second and third degree burns. But Master Timothy, I’d like you to run tests on the tissue to make sure we’re not missing any sort of contamination from the unknown weapon.”

“Course, Alfred. I can do that.”

“Do we know where Master Danny may have gone?”

Duke shook his head. “He density shifted through the cave wall. Pair that with his suspected invisibility and how little we know about his life before joining us…”

Alfred nodded. “Very well. Masters Jason and Dick, please help me move Master Bruce into a bed. The rest of you can begin searching for more information while I clean his wounds.”

Tim barely waited for Alfred to finish speaking before he was booting up the batcomputer. “I’ll inform Oracle, Black Bat, and Spoiler about the situation!” he called out over his shoulder.

Jason clearly wasn’t happy about having to carry Bruce, but not even he would argue with Alfred when one of his charges was injured. Though both of them left the instant Bruce was settled with promises to keep him informed as to how the search for Danny was going.

“So what do we know?” Dick asked as soon as he joined the others.

“Precious little,” admitted Tim.

Jason snorted. “Someone wants to cut our baby brother open and we don’t know a damn thing? What sort of detectives are we?”

Damian tutted at him. “Daniel indicated they would do the same to you, too.”

Dick looked up at the ceiling as he remembered the confrontation. “What was it he said? ‘They won’t care you’re more alive than dead’?”

Jason shifted his weight. “How much do you think he knows? He clearly just learned about our identities recently.”

Duke bit his lip. “He skipped school today. Said he wasn’t feeling well.”

Damian nodded. “But he appeared normal last night while preparing for bed.”

Tim hummed. “So he learned something last night.” Then his eyes widened. “Shit. Damian, we were talking in the kitchen after patrol. Do you think he might’ve overheard?”

“He does move silently. We would not have heard him if he did not wish us to.”

Dick closed his eyes and counted to ten. “Okay, what do we know about his abilities? He demonstrated density shifting today and we suspect invisibility.”

“He can move silently,” added Damian. “Cassandra is the only one who can reliably detect him when he does not wish to be detected.”

“And even she has been surprised by him on occasion,” said Bruce.

“Empathy,” added Jason.

Dick wasn’t the only one to stop and stare at that addition. “Uh… what are you talking about? He hasn’t shown any sort of empathy.”

Jason laughed for a moment, only stopping when no one joined in. “Oh, come on. He always knows whether you need space or want someone to stick around for a bit. And he can, like, send out a calming aura or some shit. Kid’s relaxing to be around.”

Dick opened and shut his mouth. “Huh. I haven’t noticed anything like that from him.”

Tim, Duke, and Damian agreed with Dick.

“Quit messing with me,” Jason said, flipping them off. “It’s true.”

Tim cocked his head. “Do you think that’s why he was most surprised by you? Are the two of you similar in some way? And that’s why you get the empathy sense from him?”

“‘More alive than dead,’” repeated Jason. “Would that have something to do with it?”

Tim hummed. “He mentioned his parents…” he trailed off before he could repeat Danny’s statements about his parents.

Dick nodded. “We’ll get Babs to take another look into them while you analyze B’s injury for potential contaminants. Jay, you and I can go through his room.”

Damian snorted. “With Father out of commission, someone needs to go on patrol.”

Dick cursed. “What time is it?”

“It is ten thirty.”

“Fine. You and I can patrol. I’ll take the cowl.”

Jason groaned. “And there’s some thing I have to take care of in Crime Alley.”

Bruce cleared his throat. “We’ve got the plans for tonight. Tim, you check my wound for foreign contaminants from the unknown weapon. Batman and Robin will patrol the city; Red Hood will be out in Crime Alley. Oracle will look into the Fenton parents. Duke, you’ll get to bed early. Tomorrow after a rest we will search Danny’s room more thoroughly.”

Everyone present voiced their acceptance, though with more grumbles than normal.

-----

So yeah. That's how the next part starts.

#dpxdc #bad reveal au #dealing with the aftermath #how did I do with Dick?

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zoomzooml · 14 days ago

Text

Dragons:TNR Jörmungandr redesign (rework?) concept

(Also I know that my design pushes beyond limits of TNR animation in more than one way but here I just had fun lol)

I feel like he is not intimidating enough in original. He is very small for an "Apex predator of all dragons" (and let's remember that TNR has Giants Realm so-). I expected him to slide way longer when he was escaping his prison. He also had a lot of troubles with catching dragons (it was honestly sad to watch) And yes, as far as I know snakes are expecionally challenging to rig and animate and TNR doesn't have movie-level budget, but c'mon. It's The Final Boss. (*I think that in concept art he actually is longer so perhaps they shortened him to make animation easier (and cheaper??) considering mad speed seasons were coming out)

Sidenote - that poor danger noodle had so little of any kind of build up. It's really sad. And the first time we see him live he: did shitty jumpscare (build up was actually decent imo, but sound effect and bad animation humbled it), had short, off-screen fight with Sky Torcher after which he didn't even kill him (though he did at least leave some nasty scars and broke Torchie's tooth), and then fucked away. For me it was very underhelming.

Low quality clip for those who didn't watch (I hope Tumblr won't take it down).

Coming back to the design. I really don't like his colors. He got wings but to compensate I decided that he's not a good flier. In my mind he is an ambush hunter. And I know that THE Jörmungandr, the spawn of Loki from the myths, did not have wings, and this is pretty consistent as far as I know, but it is not THE Jörmungandr, so yeah

He is in some way mix between King Cobra, Moray Eel and sea snakes (Yellow-Lipped Sea Krait mostly). I changed his hood to be more similar in construction to a king cobra. In short, it is a bit of loose skin and ribs with the ability to move. In my design, the tips of some of the ribs poke through the skin. Now I don't think TNR would be able to animate it (But i'm not very familiar with 3D animation, especially for shows) so in show he probably would just have hood always flared. His head and sail are inspired by mooray eel because they are dope and I love them. I feel that aspects of sea snakes have died in design - they have a paddle at the end of the tail, but this has already been included in the OG design, so I don't feel the need to talk about it. However, like Sea Krait, Jörmungandr is semi-aquatic. He is much slower on land than in the water, but the difference is not as great as with Sea Krait.

I increased his size - and if he wasn't inprisoned he probably would be about 15-25% longer by now. He's old enough to be a Titan Wing but he isn't normal size - he stopped growing a bit after outgrowing average dragon of his species (let's remember that Red Death is Titan Wing as well!).

*Jörmungandr is longer but Red Death is more massive. Avarage serpents are slightly shorter than Red Death as well.

To be honest, I'm not sure if I didn't overkill it with his size. On the one hand he is large, on the other hand he is mostly long and not that massive. Idk

In addition to the scars, I think Jörmungandr would also be covered with small amounts of moss and other vegetation that started growing on him when he wasn't really active (his cave is very wet/moisty). To survive he spent almost his entire life in a state of brumation, being more active when he sensed meal approaching his reach.

Now, in my mind The Jörmungandr is the name of this particular dragon, not the whole species (Midgard Serpents? IDK), and at the same time he is not a "real" Jörmungandr from the myths. Because words cannot describe how I hate that plot.

I don't know how exactly he got his name but I think it was not because of how big he is, but because of his intelligence and mischievous soul. Again, idk.

Jörmungandr is a tragic dragon. In my version he was not trapped by Hiccup (in my version Hiccup never come back to Hidden World, because c'mon. I don't really like THW but if TNR is continity to that franchise they should follow established canon and not wreck last movie and make it completely insignificant. It loses all it's value if Hiccup, his family and perhaps other vikings, just come back and maybe even lived in the Hidden World anyway! If we have to have human marks and structures, etc. in the Hidden World, I would do it more in the style of “Haddock's Cycle” than “Hiccup and Tom.” Essentially, the creator of these changes is perhaps one of Hiccup's descendants, Tom's ancestors - the "soul of the dragon" that Hiccup and before him his mother had, summoning them to the world of dragons to see "Is it finally time? ”, but it never is, not yet anyway. Idk, I'm trying lol)

I have two concepts: There was once a main entrance to his part of the Dark Realm accompanianed by the waterfalls of magma, but now there's only basalt wall. This would make the closure possible for natural reasons and give Tom an opportunity to show off his geoligical knowledge some more.

Or he was caged in human-build prison, but not by Hiccup. I did that little sketch of how his page in Dragon Book could look in this scenario. Clearly different artstyle than Hiccup's to show that he was not the one to write about this individual (tho in show there's already different styles so--) But at the second thought it can be just illustration for species as whole, so anyway

In both cases, there are ways to enter his personal prison but he is too large to use them. They are still usefull as this is the only way prey will come to his reach. Not many dragons can escape his jaws.

He has spent most of his life in a rather hostile environment to which he was not adapted, which has left scars on his body and psyche. When he's not hunting, he sleeps. Hunger has halted his growth.

Jörmungandr is a damaged, dangerous dragon, the victim of fate and unknown past.

The psychological damage has made him hyper-aggressive, even by the standards of an already aggressive species. I don't think he could ever satiate his hunger either - if he could he would hunt and eat until he consumed everything in range or died of overeating.

For this dragon, it seems too late for a happy ending, unfortunately.

Now about the Midgard Serpents (placeholdern name, I have no idea how to name them) as a whole. Apex Predator may be a bit much, given the existence of dragons like Red Death, Purple Death or Bewilderbeast. However, Midgard Serpents remain one of the dragons that feed almost exclusively on other dragons (and sometimes even other members of their own species - they're cannibalistic), and they're damn good at it. When they feel best in the water, they can follow their prey in the sky or on land. They grow quite large and still are able to take down prey more massive than themselves (mostly thanks to venom and poisonous gas).

I think they are the main predators of 'Deaths and Bewilderbeasts (and other equally large dragons) in the earlier stages of life.

#everything I said here 100% was said before but whatever #let me ramble #httyd #how to train you dragon #dragons the nine realms #httyd tnr #the nine realms #httyd world serpent #httyd Jörmungandr #tnr Jörmungandr #tnr world serpent #I'm trying lmao #my art #fan redesign #long post #even #very long post

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johnnycakesb14de · 9 months ago

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OH CAN YOU DO A PREFERENCE WHERE THE READER HAS AN OVERPROTECTIVE SIBLING PRETTY PLS POOKIE

Darry

Would NOT be afraid of them at all

Because 1. He just isn't

2. He's respectful and knows he won't piss them off

When he comes to pick you up

Say for a date

He comes like five minutes early to converse with them

Talking about things that guys (or if your sibling is a girl idk) talk about

Your sibling would definitely grow to like him because of his natural manners and overall politeness

Sodapop

Would kinda be a little worried

Not scared but like anxious about them

Like Darrys big and strong but the thing is Darry and Soda are so close so he knows Darry wouldn't hurt him

But with your sibling hes unsure

But that quickly goes away because it's Sodapop and it's impossible to hate him

Like boo does no wrong

Much like Darry he's polite and kind so he'd be a good match to bring home to your sibling

Ponyboy

Wouldn't be to scared

Bs I'm lying

He's scared

Even though he has Darry and Sodapop as older brothers he is still worried about your siblings liking him

Like he talks to Soda and Soda tells him to just be nice a he'll be fine

When he meets them for the first time he's really anxious

But like it's pretty normal for him so he gets over it

Your sibling will like him

He's smart, polite, doesn't start issues

Your sibling and him will grow to respect each other

Johnny

Literally quaking about them

Like low-key really scared

He wants to tell you he's a little afraid of your sibling but doesn't want you to get offended or make fun of him for being scared

So he talks to Dallas

He he gives his shitty ass advice

When it comes to them actually meeting each other your sibling actually really likes johnny

Because in the end what are they protecting you from? This??

Like Johnny is so sweet and nice he's just really quiet

So in the end your sibling will love him

Dallas

So this is where it gets a little messy

Dallas is no where near boyfriend material when it comes to your family

He will not be scared of them what so ever and will purposely piss them off

Like nothing scares Dallas and certainly your sibling won't change that

Like when he's dropping you off at your house he kisses for a amount of time past decent on the front porch

Slipping a hand into your pack pocket

After a while your sibling will start to see a side of Dallas he won't show directly

So does your sibling still dislike Dally

Yes

But does he know that he treats you differently than others and will protect you

Also yes

Steve

Soo Steve isn't really scared

Doesn't really think about it you know?

He's thinking about the car in the shop or you

He's kinda mean and passive aggressive so he could potentially say something that might piss your sibling off

But he doesn't mean to that's just how he is a a person

Steve definitely won't go out of his way to make your sibling like him

But Steve is a good boyfriend so there isn't much for your sibling to dislike

After they talk for a bit they will start to become okay with each other and your sibling will trust him

Two-bit

Two-bit isn't scared but not because of how you think

He just doesn't gaf

Like he could care less about anyone else

So your sibling doesn't really do much to him

He'll come to pick you up and he'll tell your sibling some stupid jokes and then leave with you

Your sibling probably wouldn't like how drunk he is most of the time

But I feel like if you asked him he would stop drinking so much

I think your sibling would like two-bit

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thehusbandoden · 1 year ago

Text

That's a New Feeling -Dabi x Reader

A/n: honestly I had no idea what to do for the title 😅

General info:

Genre: angst to fluff \\ wc: 1,545 \\ posted: 11/18/2023

Warnings!: arguing, raised voices, saying things they didn't mean (from both parties), a mention of Dabi's past, daddy issues, guilt, crying, and your partner leaving for an extended amount of time. Please let me know if I miss any! <3

"C'mon Doll, you can't still be mad at me." Dabi chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, looking you in your eyes as he trailed his fingers down to your chin, holding it gently.

Huffing, you pull away from his touch. "I can, and I still am."

"Oh come on. It was one tim-"

"Dabi don't you dare lie to me. We both know that it wasn't just 'one time'."

"Okay okay, it may happen frequently. But, you know I'm sorry."

"Do I though? Do I really? Because all I hear from you are excuses."

Dabi sighs, running his hand through his hair. "Now you're just being petty." He murmured, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Petty? I'm the petty one!?"

"Yes! Yes you are!" "

How! How on earth am I the petty one!?"

"It was a mistake! You shouldn't be so sensitive!" "Now you're changing the subject!?"

"You're the one changing the subject, y/n."

"You're pathetic." You hiss, storming into the kitchen.

"Aww did I hurt your feelings?" Dabi mocked, following you. "You're such a cry baby. Did you know that?

"I was worried about you because I care about you!"

Dabi laughed humorlessly. "Care about me? That's rich."

"Yes! I care about you! Even though I have no idea why! You're a selfish brat who only thinks about himself!"

Dabi's face darkened. He seemed to actually be angry now. "You have no idea what selfish is, y/n."

"Oh I know." You chuckle darkly. "I know what selfish looks like. All you do is complain about how hard your life is, and how easy I have it. You're always whining about how sore your body is, and how broke you are. Complaining about how you need to dye your hair again, and that we're out of your favourite snacks as you sit on your arse, telling me how I should actually 'contribute' to our income."

"Oh? What happened to you caring about me? I'm in pain and you find me selfish? I'm tired after working hard for us, and yet it's not enough? You don't ever do anything, y/n. And I'm the selfish one?"

"You're the one working such a low life job, maybe you should actually be a decent human being and get a normal job." You hiss, causing Dabi to clench his jaw.

"Take that back." He quietly growled, his turquoise eyes cold with anger as he glared at you.

"No, I won't. It's the truth." You were too angry to think rationally as you washed the dishes, not even paying any attention to Dabi's face.

"You know why I don't work a civilian's job." Dabi hissed in your ear, standing over you. "You also know how hard I'm working for your ungrateful arse."

You drop the dishes into the soapy sink, causing bubbles to splash onto both you and Dabi. "I am not lazy. I do all of the cleaning, and all of the cooking. Oh, and stop using your daddy issues as an excuse. Your daddy didn't love you, oh well. Get over it."

Dabi's face fell. He trembled in anger as he gripped onto the counter. "Take. That. Back." He growled, his face dangerously close to yours.

"Never." You hiss, glaring into his eyes. Trembling in rage, Dabi burned a hole in the countertop before storming into your shared bedroom. At the sudden movement, you suddenly snapped into reality. What you said was partly true.. but the way you had said it and the implications were bound to be hurtful and were definitely uncalled for.

Feeling guilty and worried about what would happen next, you rush upstairs. "Listen Dabi I-" you froze as you saw Dabi stuffing clothing into a backpack, his body smoking in certain areas. "Dabi?"

Dabi ignored you, grabbing his phone and his charger. "Dabi, baby please. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it I swear." You grabbed Dabi's arm, guilt tearing at your heart as you saw how badly you hurt your beloved.

Dabi continued to ignore you, his body trembling in rage.

"Listen baby, we were both angry but I should have never brought your past up like that. I'm so sorry.. please don't ignore me baby.."

Dabi glared at you, his lip curling into a snarl. "I thought I could trust you." He spat, before pulling away, storming downstairs.

"W-wait Dabi! You can! I'm so sorry, please just wait a second! You can sleep in our bed, and I'll sleep on the couch! Please don't leave!" You started panicking, following Dabi as he stormed downstairs.

"The one person I trusted, and it blew up in my face. I should have trusted my gut." Dabi hissed, opening the front door. Panicking, you threw yourself onto him.

"Baby please! I'm so so sorry! I shouldn't have brought it up like that! Please just wait!" You exclaim, tears brimming your eyes. You were worried Dabi would leave for good this time.

Dabi shrugged you off, shooting you one last glare before slamming the door closed. Scrambling onto your feet, you were about to pursue him but stopped yourself. That would cause a scene, and that would make it more likely that people would recognize him.

Sighing, you slowly move back to your bedroom, flopping onto the bed. You were still angry with Dabi, that was no doubt. And you believed that most of the things you said were justified, and you weren't really wrong about him being able to be a better person.. but the way you downplayed his past was absolutely not okay, and you were paying the consequence.

Tears fell down your cheek as you thought back to your argument. It started off so little.. and you had blown it out of proportion- with Dabi's help of course. You both did something wrong, but you both were justified in your frustration.

Sighing, you quietly cried into Dabi's pillow as you wondered if you would ever see Dabi in person again.

You didn't see Dabi for the rest of the day. Or the rest of the week.. or the next. Several weeks passed by as you worriedly waited for him, guilt eating you alive. You sent him three texts every day, trying to call him at least once. The messages started to build up, and with every unopened text you started to feel less and less hopeful.

It was about two months after the argument. You were texting him yet another apology. You kept it short and sweet, it was only a few sentences but showed your great concern and love.

Babygirl: Goodnight my love, I miss you. I'm really sorry that I was so insensitive. I hope you're doing well.

You expected it to be left unopened, but to your surprise, it changed to 'read' several seconds after you sent it. Hope bubbled in your chest as you stared at your phone, your body cozily tucked into bed.

As the minutes pass by you slowly start to fall asleep, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. Slowly blinking your eyes, the last thing you saw before falling asleep was Dabi's smirking profile picture.

A small tapping sound roused you from your slumber. Blinking your eyes in confusion, you thought you imagined the sound and closed your eyes again. The sound repeated itself, this time a bit louder. Sitting up, you look around, yawning.

Sighing, you stand up and flick the light on. Looking around, you notice a dark silhouette in the window. Moving closer, you recognize Dabi's face. Opening the window, your breath hitched in your throat as you stare face to face with Dabi. Stepping back, you silently let him in.

As Dabi hopped through the window you watched him as he closed and locked your window before placing his duffle bag down, his eyes focussed on the ground.

"Baby?" You ask softly, placing a hand on Dabi's shoulder. He slightly flinched, but his eyes looked up to meet yours. "I'm really sorry for my part of things." You whisper, caressing his cheek with your other hand. His eyes softened.

Dabi opened his mouth to speak, before pausing and letting out a sigh. "It's fine. Let's just forget it." He placed his hands on your waist.

"No, baby I know I hurt you. And I'm sorry." You move your other hand so you were now holding his face in your hands, staring him dead in the eye. "I'm sorry, and I won't justify my actions. The way I downplayed your childhood was messed up and so so wrong of me."

Dabi stared at you, his turquoise eyes hiding his real emotions.

"C'mon.. please, talk to me. Don't hide your feelings..."

"I'm honestly over it.. but I think I'm sick.. there's this ache in my chest whenever I think about how I yelled at you, or how I just left.."

"There's an.. ache? Like in your heart?"

"Yep. I bet I won't live long." Dabi sighed, kissing your forehead.

Bursting out laughing, you nuzzle your nose against Dabi's. "Silly, you aren't dying. That feeling means that you feel guilty, and that you're sorry."

"Guilty.. that's a new feeling."

"I love you, and I hope you can forgive me."

"I love you too, and you are already forgiven." Dabi murmured, holding your chin as he kissed you softly.

~~~~~

Dabi's masterlist | Masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here <3

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated <33

~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

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