#its not gross in here its just like. could probably use a sweep.

[corvidaedream]

roommate w no self-awareness sent an angry text to the group chat about how he was finally pushed to "deep clean the kitchen" bc no one was cleaning up after themselves

get home half an hour later

counter covered in dirty dishes. it looks like he wiped down the stovetop. the cleaning supplies are all out. several dishes and things on the counter and table are all his.

???

great uh. deep clean, man.

[indecisiveavocado]

using this to show goyim the kind of stuff jews face

brief note: for quotes, some were replying to other users. Because I do not want them to be harassed, I have removed their name when it appears, and if that bothers you, you are welcome to make a world where I don't need to worry about that. I have also generally not mentioned the name of the antisemites, although in some cases I have, generally if the rhetoric was ridiculously antisemitic and/or I considered it worth flagging so Jews would know they should probably block that user.

further brief note: trigger warnings obviously apply here.

even briefer note: this is a long post

These are actual quotes, by the way.

ACTUAL GODDAMN QUOTES

For reference, here is my post in its entirety:

why are jews skeptical of antizionism? a guide for gentiles I'd be ok with the notion Israel wasn't needed if y'all could be trusted not to fuck it up when Jews needed somewhere to flee. But last time (to put it politely) you fucked it up real bad, and six million Jews died. Fundamentally, antizionism is asking Jews to put our lives in the hands of the same people who saw us screaming for help, who knew that death awaited us, and did all of nothing. Nada. Nil. (As demonstrated by the recent Amsterdam pogrom, Israel is totally ok and often proactive in flying Jews out. Around the same time as Palestinians were being exiled, Jews from all over the Arab world were being driven out in similar numbers. The reason you don't hear about that refugee crisis? Israel accepted them, without complaint or delay or objection, just urgency.) Pardon us for being a bit skeptical of your assertions that it won't happen again when a constant theme throughout our history has been it happening again. This is a slightly modified form of an older, longer, post's tags/tldr.

and the tags:

jumblr, jewish, jewblr, antisemitism, judaism, israel, jewish tumblr, tw antisemitism, anti zionism, shoah mention, tw shoah, amsterdam, amsterdam pogrom, jewish history.

Nothing horribly unreasonable. I made no comments on Gaza. I said I supported the existence of the state of Israel, which is different from supporting its policies. Regardless of what China does to Uyghurs, Uyghurs can and should not take over all of China. You would not be able to reasonably make an inference on my support, or lack thereof, for Israel's conduct in Gaza.

Here are some of the replies in the chat. Bolding is mine.

Israel only exists because the us gave asylum, ended the war and created israel. To turn around and say they did nothing is a gross mistelling of history but i get it, youre jewish. Rewriting history to glorify yourself and demonize everyone else is the cornerstone of your culture

“Pogrom” 🙄 so fucking disrespectful to the actual casualties of historical pogroms around the world. Your football fans couldn’t handle not being racist for five minutes. That shit may fly in Israel but not in Europe. [from a non Jew, seemingly; by the way, the pogrom, which has been widely called such by Jews and was called "reminiscent of a pogrom" by Deborah Lipstadt, current US Special Envoy to Combat Antisemitism, was premediated, before any of that happened, and as I've said before, even if someone is wearing a Trump 2024 shirt and jabbers about woke threats to the country, that is not an excuse to throw them in an almost-freezing river and not let them out until they say "Harris Walz 2024!"]

Why don't you look at your fucking religion for the foot if your problems and you think that you are now safe in occupied Palestine? We are going to sweep you back like garbage. Hi and get your revenge from those who turned you into soap [note that later they say they're Semitic. Those who turned us into soap were European. They're not the same. Unless they're saying Palestinians were Nazis...?]

I'm actually saying the username here, because Jews should immediately put them on their blocklist: michmanbiker. Also from Michmanbiker after I called them antisemitic:

Anti Jewish!!!! I am Semite [sic] and 99 % of Jews are slav mongrels. So cut the bullshit

[I should note here that:

Regardless of its original meaning, antisemitic now means anti-Jewish. It's like how "slave" was originally a synonym of Slav, but you'd be laughed out of the room if you referred to them as synonyms today.

Most Israelis are not Ashkenazi--from central/Eastern Europe, where Slavs live. Most of them are Sephardim -- from Spain, generally living in the Middle East for centuries before being driven out due to an outbreak of antisemitism following the foundation of the State of Israel

Both Sephardim and Ashkenazim are recognizably Middle Eastern genetically

Considering the historical situation in which Jews lived - frequently killed, dispersed as slaves, et cetera - and Judaism frowning on intermarriage and having few converts, it is reasonable to assume that a fair portion of that ancestry is from rape. It's also worth flagging that traditionally Jewish status is passed on from the mother, because the Romans raped so many Jewish women that the rabbis changed it, and there has been a whole book written about gendered violence [read: sexual violence] in the pogroms, as well as one about sexual violence in the Holocaust. This is effectively blaming Jews for being raped.]

EDIT two days later (November 26, 2024): I got a new one! A user, youngsuitrunaway, posted the following:

How tf did I get this dirty disgusting primitive idea of pro Zionism in my recommended

One user said the following about Israel:

I go into youre property and say i want the half of it

This superficially sounds reasonable. As I replied, it is not:

No. Two people are living in a region. One is lesser in number because they were *forcibly exiled as slaves*. A neutral group draws up a plan for two states. One group accepts it. The other group, aided by every other country around them, rejects it and attempts to destroy the other group. Miraculously, the smaller group not only survives, but takes some land. (It also loses some - Jews were expelled from the Jewish Quarter of Jerusalem following the first war).

From thegreatkhan, who I am again naming because they seem fairly active and at first glance reasonably innocuous in name and description:

How about you stop playing victim and just admit that the world is fucking tired of Israel atrocities?

I replied,

you realize that it's not inherent to a state of Israel? Zionism does not imply being a supporter of every action of Israel. It means being a supporter of the fact that Israel gets to exist. It's like confusing "Americanism" (to coin a phrase), which properly refers to "yes, the United States of America gets to exist" with "from 2017-early 2021 you supported every single action taken by the US government!!!". Or, for you (since you're Spanish), confusing thinking that Spain as a country should exist with supporting the Spanish Inquisition.

Instead of engaging with this, he repeated the precise same thing.

And

Isrelies are not a fucking marginalized community. If they were a marginalized community they would not be getting billions in help from the United States. [note that he's conflating Israel with Jews]

Considering your [not mine; this was in a reply to another user] post about the dropout apology, I don't care much about whatever you have to say. Israel is committing genocide, and supporting the existence of Israel in any way shape or form is the same as supporting said genocide. [So if I think Myanmar should not have been colonized by the British, I'm supporting the Rohingya genocide?] If people believe that the land of Israel belongs to them for some kind of special gift or god [that's not why I said it should exist - I am agnostic] then that's their problem. Nobody is special, and there's no excuse to go around stealing houses and land then claiming you are the victim. I desire the worst for anyone that supports Israel, whatever their background. [I have yet to see any examples of thegreatkhan harassing Evangelical Christian users, who are generally also pro-Israel. If that's false, I welcome corrections. But when you only harass Jews, instead of the much, much, larger Evangelical Christian segment of Zionism, it comes off as sketchy]

Michmanbiker drops in:

Jews are not a race they are a religion [we're both, it's called an ethnoreligion, it's fascinating!], a filthy one at that, 99% of Jews don't have one drop of Semite blood in their veins. The whole premise for that abhorrent thing you call Israel is based on a lie. Everything Jewish is a lie including Jews being Jews as you are all sons and daughters of Shikshas. Your common traits are cowardly, evil meek and weak. I guess that makes you a people.

Switching back to thegreatkhan's better concealed antisemitism (michmanbiker is actually fairly weird, their rhetoric is closer to rightwing antisemitism, but they are clearly left-wing. Evidence in support of the horseshoe theory):

How about you isrelies stop committing genocide? It's a pet peeve of mine, sorry.

This is my response:

I...I'm not Israeli. I've never even been to Israel. The only way for you to infer that I'm Israeli from this post is to have a) not looked at my profile, where I say I am a Pittsburgher, and you may not realize this but PITTSBURGH IS NOT IN ISRAEL, which is in itself ok, and b) assumed that everyone Jewish [or Zionist, I forgot to mention that] is Israeli. I have no more ability to influence Bibi than you do. I am not a citizen of Israel and, despite y'all, I am not planning on becoming one soon. I have never been to Palestine. I don't see how I could possibly be committing genocide. Oh, that's right! You equate all Jews with Israelis! Gee, that's not antisemitic. Hey, while we're doing this - how the hell do you justify supporting the Spanish Inquisition, which you clearly do, since you're Spanish [it's in his profile]? How about Spanish colonization? What do you think of Columbus's genocidal actions? Very hypocritical of you to support genocide (what do you think Columbus did, what are you, brainwashed) when it's the Spanish doing it, but hate it when it's the Jews. Spain shouldn't exist, it should all be given to the Basques. All Spanish people (except for the Basques of course) are devils (hey, you called Israelis that [no, I'm not joking, I wish I was joking], it's not like genocide is any less bad when it's in the past)! Oh and by the way I'm not anti-Spanish cause ACKSHULLY Spanish can also refer to Basques and I'm pro-Basque."

thegreatkhan completely missed the point and replied

I actually left Spain years ago [so you were there, which means my extremeness was slightly more justified than yours], and never looked back, and I'm working hard, (through legal means, and not just arriving at a new place and throwing someone out of their house like isrelies do [Tel Aviv was founded legally, most of them were founded legally, after purchasing land, and this was after we had been thrown out of our house - right of return, anyone?]) to bring my dad over. I'm a Spanish republican, and andalucian. I do believe that Basque country should be independent [christ, it was an example!], same as many of other Spanish counties that have been for centuries treated like shit by the central fascist government of franco. Unlike isrelies, i actually work hard to put my money where my mouth is, but I can't expect a tribe of child killers and rapists to comprehend that.

(The child killer argument, by the way, was frequently used to justify violence against Jews in the MIddle Ages. Worth flagging.)

All of this on a post that mentioned supporting the existence of a country. For no other country are supporting the country's existence and actions conflated. If someone says that they don't think Russia should be invaded and taken over by Finland, we don't accuse them of supporting Putin and genocide in Ukraine. If someone says that they don't think Eritrea should be invaded by Ethiopia, we don't accuse them of supporting what's been called the African North Korea. If someone says Afghanistan shouldn't be taken over by Pakistan, we don't accuse them of supporting the Taliban. If someone says why they don't support the British taking over Myanmar (again), we don't accuse them of supporting the Rohingya genocide. If someone says they don't think France should recolonize Mauritania, we don't accuse them of supporting slavery (Mauritania being the last country to outlaw slavery, in the 1980s, and, according to some estimates, a fifth of their population is enslaved). If they don't think the UK should conquer Iran, we don't accuse them of supporting sharia law and despising women. If they say Turkey shouldn't take over Saudi Arabia, we don't accuse them of hating women.

In fact, in many of those cases, it doesn't come up. It's accepted: of course Tibetans shouldn't run China, of course Russia has a right to exist, even if it commits atrocities.

All of those countries I listed--Russia, China, Eritrea, Afghanistan, Myanmar, Mauritania, Iran, Saudi Arabia--are committing human rights abuses, sometimes genocide. But you still don't need to explain why China and Myanmar deserve to exist.

[devianttxrts]

when all stella did was shrug, nahla wanted to smirk but she was still too annoyed to actually do so. stella didn’t have an argument, not one good reason, so that was a win for her. in the long run they might not matter, but in the moments they happened, she knew they both counted their little victories. unhealthy as it may be, depending who you asked, they thrived on one-upping each other. “celine karaoke?” she echoed, likely dumbly. it threw her for a loop and amused her at the same time, so sue her. nothing about her feelings where stella was involved made sense. “we probably wouldn’t make it through those couple of minutes without your ego suffocating us.” she wasn’t impressed with stella, or, okay, she didn’t want to be anyway. it was just one of many things that were out of her control here; it would be a lot easier counting the things that were in it. “no.” yes, actually. “it’s a vibe thing, you were just too busy thinking with your cunt to notice the level of her skankitude and that’s not my fault.” if nothing else, nahla was good at arguing. sometimes, that helped her make her point, if only by tiring her opponent into giving up. it was all too natural, the way she felt the irritation prickle along her skin at the almost smug look she could see written all over stella’s face, followed by the feeling of what could have been pride as she watched those features shift to confusion. if nahla had to experience that particular misery, she definitely wanted company. “i’m pissed because you’ve been ignoring me.” her hand finally left her hip so she could jab a finger into stella’s shoulder, albeit nowhere as hard as she would have liked, before she threw her arms up in exasperation. was stella not listening? she thought she’d made that loud and clear - the opposite of what she was willing to do with the jealousy thing. that, she was willing to sweep under the rug. “and after we fucked... it can make a girl wonder, you know?” was it too much? in light of their revelations. or worse, had it not been enough? those thoughts could be grouped with the ever growing list of things that were gross, though that would do little to change the fact that they existed somewhere in her head. “you could have fooled me.” a haughty sniff was given, eyes averting from stella along with it, if only to hide how upset it really made her. out of all the feelings she had invoked in her, that was a new one and it left nahla feeling like a fish out of water. what made it worse was that stella’s hand on her hip actually made her feel better; it soothed her. something along those lines was probably made obvious, too, with the way her body visibly relaxed with the touch. she wanted to return it, place at least a hand on the older woman somewhere in kind, but she was already worried she looked desperate and something told her that giving in and wrapping her arms around her wouldn’t help her case there. her lips parted the slightest bit; in her own twisted way, stella knew just what to say. she wasn’t going to think about how twisted she must be too, or why the words satisfied her so. she wasn’t to be blamed for any colour that found its way to her face either. “please, like that was ever a question.” 

stella wished she had a pack of marlboro's or a bottle of everclear. both were nasty habits, but they beat her shrugging her shoulders like some simpleton. not a single reason was given because no one should ever listen to her. she wasn't exactly some upstanding citizen. her life was filled with one reckless decision after another; incessant foolery would never stop. she wondered if that was, in part, why the two worked in harmony and collided like hostile torpedoes at dusk. one could even argue it was something akin to friendly fire because at the end of the day, that's what they were. now if you asked stella, she'd laugh in your face while silently daring you to say one ill word about nahla. she couldn't be held responsible for any fatal mishaps that followed. “you say that now, but wait until you've heard me do celine karaoke.” if she kept talking, she just might fuck up and invite nahla to join her or something. and if she did that, it would sound a lot like a dat with an e. stella naturally did not miss the amusement; she was nothing if not observant as hell. it brought a thin, genuine grin to her lips. the little curl was a betrayal to all things good in life, though she was learning that her body didn't listen when it was anywhere in proximity to nahla. things had been pretty awful before; only worsened now. “i only need a couple of minutes to change that.” she was awfully proud of herself, fresh images still in her mind. the others were secondary, still lingering there and taunting her like a bad disease. “uh huh... so someone wanting to fuck me makes them a skank?” if eyes could speak in pots and kettles meeting, there was a lot of calling out. stella's brow arched and she felt a win come over her. the fact that nahla couldn't even argue about her moves was telling. she couldn't delight too much; not when the laugh came next. her eyes rapidly rolled, and then abruptly stopped. what the fuck was happening? a bad case of whiplash would not be her demise. “what? if you're not jealous, then why are you pissed?” she must have sounded pathetic, because she genuinely was confused. her therapist would be thankful for the emergency visits. she was becoming far more billable now that she'd met her. pissed nahla may or may not have also been really hot. she wondered if her question was answered in the next breath. was this all because of some good old-fashioned ignoring? “you should know i could never ignore you for too long.” it was said with a laugh to hide any vulnerabilities that might have showed up. testing, a hand moved to nahla's hip and she held onto her. “between me and you, you would have tasted better than her anyway.” and they said romance was dead.

[the-illiterate-pirate]

Ah yes, my boyfriend's birthday. Which means I can make plotless porn and not feel ashamed

I wrote this last night while I was in a mood. But now that I'm out of that mood, this feels super gross. But anyway enjoy a mini fic of. Rough Weather Report?

Nsfw, blowjobs, not betaread, yeah that's about it

For Weather Report's birthday Anasui took everyone out for drinks. It was good to see your boyfriend so loose, so happy in the moment, but it was shocking to see how much alcohol he could keep down. You were all drunk as hell, save for Foo Fighters who hated the taste of liquor and volunteered to be the designated driver. You and Weather decided to walk home. It was a cool night and the wind would do you some good. And truth be told you just wanted some alone time with Weather. You were horny, and ready to pull him into an ally to give him his birthday present already. Lucky you, Weather had the same idea.

Once Anasui's car peeled away your boyfriend pulled you away somewhere secluded and brought you into a drunken messy make out with his tongue down your throat and your shared drool pooling down your neck. Every sweep around your mouth with his wet muscle sent a new wave of hot pleasure down to your core and made you mewl against his mouth. He finally pulled away with a string of saliva to pepper your neck with wet kisses while his expert fingers tried to unbutton your pants but you pushed him away before that hand found its way into your panties.

"Weather~. Tonight, I want you in my mouth. I want you to fuck my throat." You mewled out like a whore.

"Fine then, get ready because I can't wait anymore." He whispered back in his sexy baritone voice. Your back slid down against the brick wall behind you waiting patiently on your ass while Weather Report took his cock out of his briefs and gave it a practice pump. He had a mouth watering length, but what he lacked in some girth he made up in being able to hit at every weak point in your body. When he played his cards right be could make you cum in a matter of minutes. Here's to hoping you could get him wet and desperate in such little time too. He thrusted his hips into your face and you got to work licking at his length, feeling his hot length pulse on your tongue. He slid down your throat easily, completely satisfying your insatiable taste for him. His hips covered your whorish moaning while he used you to his hearts content. Like a man possessed (and probably very drunk) Weather Report only used you for selfish pleasure, and in that moment you wouldn't have it any other way.

He cursed at the polluted sky and groaned heavily with every teasing brush of your teeth against his shaft. Drool cascaded down your neck grossly. Your entire face felt like a mess. Your mind fell into a dull haze, only thinking of the harsh and delicious feeling of him using you faster. The gag reflex at the back of your throat seemed to disappear to make it easier on both of you. Was it the alcohol that made it easier for your body to relax? Or were you just such a whore for your boyfriend?

"Fuck baby," He hissed against his teeth. "Y'like me using you like this, yeah? 'Course you do... You're such a good girl for me." Your eyes rolled back behind there lids at the praise going directly into your pants while he pat your head so patronizingly. You didn't give two shits over it though, you just wanted him to cum already.

"You want me to pull out? And cum all over your pretty face? Or do you want to drink it all up?"

Weather knew perfectly well you couldn't answer with your mouth full of his cock, but he had a good guess after your hands clawed into his thighs to keep him settled in your mouth. Your mouth began to suck quicker and harder than before. He laughed softly, which quickly got interrupted with a low moan. "Almost there baby... Keep going."

With pleasure.

His trusts started getting stiffer, but a little deeper than before. His voice rattled in his throat with every brush against the back of your throat. Salt coated your tongue as precum began to spill from his tip.

"Mmm fuck, keep going..."

You pulled back with only the tip in your mouth, your hand pumping his shaft, and your thumb massaging the thrumming vien you found. Even with your mouth full you're sure he could read your mind for the pleas repeating like a mantra in your head. Please cum, please cum, please cum.

"Oh, god. Mmmmm, f-fuck." Words got caught in his throat, a full body shudder went through him as he came down your throat, accidentally thrusting back into your mouth and choking you. He stumbled on his moans while you fought against your gag reflex and swallowed his mess.

When he finally settled down, you pushed his hips away from your face to cough up the gunk that stuck to your throat. You wiped down your face with your sleeve, Weather knelt down and took your lips into a deep kiss. His lust had been quenched and what was left of him was needy for affection. He was soft as he licked your mouth clean of his spunk, his arms holding you close. You kissed back, of course. It spiralled into another make out on the ground, again feeling each other up as another flame was ignited.

"I'm still horny." He whispered, and hearing such a thing from him cracked you up. "C'mon, let's get up. Once we get home I have to give you my side of the present."

"Weather~ it's your birthday, it's supposed to be about you." You pouted, but didn't stop him from picking you up like a princess.

"Exactly. It's my birthday, I get to do to you whatever I want."

[orionsangel86]

SPN Conspiracies - Applying Logic to Chaos

Its been over 2 months now since the Supernatural finale aired. I am still so angry, hurt, and confused by it and I don’t think I will ever get closure unless someone like Andrew Dabb, or Jensen Ackles, actually opens up and gives us an explanation that makes sense.

What annoys me most right now is people trying to gaslight fans into believing that we should accept the narrative we have been given at face value: That the finale was always planned to be that way, that Destiel was never on the cards, that there was no Network interference, that the only changes made were due to covid and were minor at best.

This harmful gaslighting is FALSE.

NO ONE KNOWS THE TRUTH OF WHAT HAPPENED.

Look, I don’t agree with some of the crazier conspiracy theories. I don’t believe that there was some huge campaign among the CW Network execs to remove anything remotely gay out of homophobia. I don’t believe that the finale was changed because of some desire to make it into a Walker promo. I don’t believe that the finale was really bad on purpose in protest by Dabb for not getting to do an ending he truly wanted. I don’t believe that Dabb left us smart fans a bunch of secret messages in the finale to hint that he was on our side all along and that everything was fake.

I do, however, believe that all of these conspiracy theories have some elements in them that are plausible. At least, more plausible than the bullshit narrative mentioned above that some people are pushing in some desperate attempt to defend the Network (which imo is really strange behaviour anyway - why would anyone care about a TV network with a history of terrible behaviour?!?)

We have facts, based on information provided before the covid lockdown, which for some reason, people like Misha have since backpeddled on. So let me try to outline some of the information that makes no sense.

Below the cut I go on a deep dive into the conspiracies and statements I have heard about the SPN finale and try to make some sense of this whole fucked up situation. It gets long.

1. “Cas was never gonna be in the finale”.

False: We have many fan accounts of Misha confirming that he was filming the finale. We have video evidence of Misha confirming he was going back to film the finale after the lockdown. We have confirmation from fans in Misha M&Gs from March that he had about 5 days of filming left.

We also had fan accounts of discussions with Alex Calvert (I think) where he confirmed the final shot of the final episode was all four of them though I would LOVE if someone can find a source for this.

2. Okay, Misha was gonna be in the finale, but only as Jimmy Novak

False: I heavily side eyed Misha when he said this. But I think I can come up with a plausible explanation for it. Per above, Misha was supposed to film for 5 days. This does not align with the half a day he described of filming as Jimmy Novak. My own belief is that after Cas was cut from the finale (for whatever reason we don’t know) someone (probably Jensen Ackles) put up a fight and complained that Misha should be there for the final episode. The writers probably tried to come up with a way to bring Misha back without having to deal with Cas, and pitched the idea of Jimmy Novak being in Heaven. Misha, obviously annoyed about this, turned this stupid pitch down.

3. Destiel was never a thing, never planned, never part of Dabb’s ending. Bobo and Misha pushing the confession was the part of the season that was Wrong.

False: We have a SPN writer on record saying that Castiel’s confession was the first thing written for Season 15 when the writers returned to the writers room. If it wasn’t planned, why was it the first thing written, why does it align so well with the rest of season 15? Look I know some people either a. hate destiel and refuse to see it even if it slaps them in the face, or b. have major heteronormative goggles on, or c. are just homophobes in denial, but 15x18 fits in perfectly with the narrative of season 15. Everything Cas says, everything that happened in that scene was so in character it just works. It fit. If you just rewatch the season whilst applying some critical thinking skills and pay attention to the narrative and character arcs, trust me, the confession fits in with pretty much every other plot point, and character story in the season.

Also: We have known for a while that the network did market research into Destiel, wanting to know if it would go down well or not. They were well aware of its popularity and considering it. Where would this have come from if not pitched by the showrunner? Dabb must have at least been considering it. If you take all of Dabb era into consideration, starting with mid season 11, all the way through the season 12 build up, season 13 grief arc, and then Bobo’s Destiel break up arc in late season 14, early season 15, it is clear that there was some toing and froing on the issue of Destiel, but ultimately, I still believe that Dabb was on board. He wrote 13x01 for christs sake. No way he wasn’t taking it seriously.

 4. It’s always been about the brothers. The finale just stays true to what Supernatural is all about.

*rubs temples* Fundamentally FALSE: The show has time and again reasserted the message of “Family don’t end with blood”, as well as the messages of AKF and YANA. Sam and Dean may be at the heart of the show, but a heart can’t exist without a body to support it. Without bones, and lungs, and blood, and muscles, and a BRAIN. The finale abandons the shows core messages. It forces the characters back into their season 1 characterisations and the whole thing becomes hollow and souless. But I’m not here to complain, I’m here to lay down the facts. Dean’s heaven was supposed to be surrounded by loved ones right? We know OG Charlie Bradbury was gonna be in his Heaven, we also know CAS was gonna be in there. So this idea that the finale as it currently stands was how it was meant to be is wrong. Dean was supposed to die and reunite with his found family and loved ones. This alone would have been a far better ending than the one given. Do I think this was solely a covid issue? Fuck no.

The randoms that WERE in the finale are proof alone that they could have got people in and quarantined. We also have several actors on record saying that they WOULD have quarantined for the finale had they been asked to return but they WEREN’T.

Lies have been told. Samantha Ferris and Chad Limberg have confirmed that we have been lied to about the original plans for the finale.

This alone is proof enough that there is more plausibility in some of the conspiracy theories than any bullshit narrative some people are pushing in defence of the barbaric mess of a finale we were given.

So lets address some of the conspiracy theories now:

Conspiracy No.1: The CW Network reviewed Supernatural during the covid break, and due to homophobia, refused any Destiel arc that wasn’t already filmed, shut down any potential reciprocation from Dean, and forced Dabb to change his finale.

I don’t think this is entirely what happened. But I do think it is very strange how there is a such a huge disconnect particularly in Dean’s characterisations between what had come before the lockdown, and what came after. The one fact we have here, and please someone provide a source if you can find it because I know there is one, the finale script was still going through changes up to only 2 weeks before it was filmed. We know that there was some weird editing in 15x18 (which was still in post and uncompleted before lockdown) and we know from Jensen’s own mouth that there was more to the confession scene on Dean’s side that was cut. We also know that this isn’t the first time that Destiel heavy moments have been changed in post - the prayer scene is another big scene that went through a lot of changes and Bobo fought to have his script play out the way he wanted it.

There are certain things that in my own opinions, are basically true of SPN which I have put together from years of keeping one eye on the writers room, the network, and all the various comments made. My opinion is this:

The writers room has always been split on Destiel. Some writers heavily supported making it canon, others did not care, or were against it.

The Network considered it over the course of several years, did market research, green lit it, then changed their minds, possibly several times over the course of Dabb’s era. Destiel was pitched to the Network early in Dabb era.

The crew on set were also split. Some people heavily supported it, and worked to assist the reading, whereas others did not care/did not support it. The same can be said for the editing room.

Bob Singer supported the subtextual homoeroticism, but never supported bringing it into text (this is an opinion, but I think it aligns with everything we know about him.) IMO Bob Singer also supported subtextual homoeroticism between Sam and Dean - the guy is gross is what I’m saying. He isn’t exactly a progressive person.

Fun fact - a while back our old enemy Sera Gamble went on a Twitter rant about writers rooms and the ways a script goes through changes. I don’t think this was in relation to the SPN finale wank but she basically inadvertantly confirmed that the Network can step in and make sweeping changes to a script if they want to and if they decide they don’t like the direction of a story. Sera Gamble confirmed this as a fact.

Now. I’m not saying that this is what the CW did with Destiel. I just think its very strange how pre lockdown, the last thing filmed is a heartfelt homosexual declaration of love between Dean and Cas, and we have a finale script that Misha had not seen, but knew that he was meant to film as Castiel for 5 days (5 days on set is over half of an episode as far as I know). Then all of a sudden, Covid happens, and Cas is cut from the finale completely, a desperate attempt to bring Misha back only as Jimmy Novak takes place, which Misha rightly refuses, leading to a finale which makes zero sense narratively and appears in every way completely and utterly butchered.

The only explanation provided by anyone involved is that Covid meant changes had to happen - but that covid didn’t change the actual story at all.

But this makes no sense because we know that Cas was cut from the finale. This is FACT. Do not let anyone gaslight you into thinking otherwise. Misha was preparing to quaranting to return to set as Cas post Covid, so whatever happened to cut Cas from the finale, it wasn’t Covid.

I’m gonna have to Occum’s Razor this and say that the most logical explanation here is the one that is most likely true. Someone got cold feet with the Destiel story, and to prevent any possible interpretation that included Dean reciprocating, any hints of Destiel were removed from the finale script, including Castiel’s whole appearance.

Now, this isn’t me saying I think that Dabb’s original finale was full of Destiel love confessions and a homosexual kiss or whatever, but I am asking you all to really think about it and ask yourselves WHY Cas would have been totally cut from an episode he was supposed to be in at LEAST half of? 

We will probably never know the real reason Cas was cut, but he WAS cut. I’m not saying it was all homophobia, but some fuckery went down.

Conspiracy No. 2: The CW Network changed the finale to make it into a Walker promo because they only cared about raising up Jared and not Jensen and Misha as they were losing them anyway.

I don’t agree with this in terms of the finale being butchered solely to make it into a Walker promo. There are however moments in the finale that are clearly supposed to be Walker Easter Eggs and added to excite fans of Jared/Sam in particular such as Sam’s gratuitous and unnecessary topless scene, as well as the call on the “case in Austin”.

I will take this moment to say something pretty damn controversial though.

*Deep breath*

The fact is, Dean Winchester has been the “lead” character of Supernatural’s narrative for years now, with Sam often being sidelined and not given great storylines himself. Even in Season 15, right up until the finale, I myself felt bad for Sam sometimes because so much of this show has become all about Dean. Jensen Ackles is clearly the better actor when it comes to emotional story arcs, so the emotional heart of the story has most often leant on him.

So you can understand my confusion, when this is turned on its head in the final episode, to make Sam carry all the emotional weight, and have the most lines/screentime, and story resolution (even if his story resolution was just as crappy as Dean’s).

If we pretend that Destiel is not a thing, and ignore Cas’s confession, the story change in the finale from Dean focus to Sam focus is still rather suspicious. Again, I’m not saying I completely approve of or agree to the conspiracy theory that Walker influenced the butchering of the script, but I can believe that perhaps a note went down from the CW to someone like Bob Singer, to emphasise Sam/Jared more than they perhaps would normally, because the CW wanted to shine the spotlight on Jared to raise excitement for Walker.

I can also believe this note might have said something like “we wanna cater to fans of Sam/Jared the most - don’t do anything to piss them off.” but now I am getting into my own conspiracy theories so by all means dismiss this as me being bitter.

Conspiracy No.3: Dabb purposely made it bad, as a secret message to Destiel fans that he had been silenced, by layering meta clues into the episode that he knew fans would notice.

I doubt this one is true. Though some of the theories are quite compelling. The old vampire silent movie theory for instance starts off quite well, but loses me the moment it brings up Urban Dictionary slang.

Sometimes I have just had to accept that Supernatural is a bad show that is sometimes accidentally a masterpiece. However, some writers really did go That Deep with their stories - anything by Ben Edlund or Steve Yockey for instance, their episodes are meta masterpieces with a hundred different layers of beautiful subtextual storytelling and are a joy to analyse. Bobo Berens has certainly done some A+++ work especially now we KNOW that he was working hard all this time to bring Destiel to canon text (so any analysis of Destiel in the subtext in his episodes is very accurate). There have been many other key elements analysed over the years which have been confirmed true. Cas’s death in Season 12, Dean’s time as a demon in season 10, Season 11 ending in unity of dark and light, these were all plot points predicted by meta writers just by analysing the narrative. Sometimes the writers really have been very smart and they do add things to the show to aid us in our meta.

Richard Speight Jr for instance, confirmed that SPN has a visual library that the production team use to give clues and hints in the narrative. Pizza, for example, always means a lie has been told. Whenever Pizza is being eaten or even just mentioned on screen, there is dishonesty in that particular moment.

The beers also have a very specific message and the one thing I can’t let go about the finale, was that Dean was drinking El Sol beer. The beer his dad gave him, that was terrible.

El Sol has been used in the show to indicate something being wrong, a fake reality, or another lie, for the longest time. It is the beer of deception.

The fact that in the final episode of this entire show, Dean is in Heaven, supposedly at peace, and then he gets handed an El Sol beer to drink? Thats a HUGE red flag for any meta writer watching who can read SPNs visual library.

If they had given him the Margiekugel beer of family then it would make sense. Dean is in Heaven, with Bobby, his family, at peace. Margiekugel should have been the beer of choice. But nope. El Sol. Something is wrong.

I don’t know if it was Dabb, or Singer, or some disgruntled ADs and crew members who added these elements into the finale, but their very presence confirms some message of Wrongness.

I could go into a huge rant about Vampire Mimes not making sense and the very glaringly obvious symbolism of cutting out peoples tongues too, but that is high school level film analysis. It’s obvious. It means to silence someone. There is validity in interpreting this as Dabb saying he was silenced. I don’t know how true it is, but i can’t 100% dismiss it, because as I said, this is high school analysis levels of obvious subtextual storytelling.

So in summary, whilst I don’t think that Dabb intentionally went out of his way to sabotage his own script, and leave a breadtrail of secret messages for savvy fans to put together to confirm that he was silenced by an evil network into not getting what he wanted... I do think that there is validity in questioning these odd choices for the finale. Cutting out tongues? Vampire Mimes? El Sol beer?

The evidence is somewhat compelling is all I’m saying. I don’t believe the full conspiracy theories, but as I have said many times before, some fuckery went down.

So What Do I Believe?

That some fuckery went down and whatever company line they are pushing is bullshit.

I believe that the original script included Cas (since thats fact). I believe that the original script probably always had Dean dying on a vampire hunt (due to Jensen’s issues with it and in particular, his sarcastic comments about vampires in the past year or so which in hindsight are hilarious and prove he never really came to terms with Dean’s idiotic death). I believe Dabb’s original script was some less crappy version of what we got, which potentially included showing Jack rescuing Cas from the Empty and resolving the outstanding Empty plot points (potentially this was actually a 15x19 plot since Mark P commented that his final scenes were supposed to be with Jack and Cas), had Cas reunite with Dean in Heaven and had them have a discussion about Cas’s confession. I believe that there was probably a lot of back and forth over how to handle that with some people wanting Dean to obviously reciprocate and others believing they should keep it ambiguous. I believe that Dean and Cas would have reunited with Charlie Bradbury, and Bobby Singer, and possibly others (though if this was the case it must have been very early on since no one ever looped in Sam Ferris, Chad Linberg or any other Roadhouse people).

I believe that Sam’s ending probably didn’t change much, but I do feel that initially they were planning on him ending up with Eileen, because it is the only thing that narratively makes sense. Cutting Eileen and giving him a blurry wife is something I won’t ever understand and Jared’s bullshit explanations are quite clearly pulled out of his ass to appease bronly types. I believe the reunion on the bridge would have included Cas and Jack, with a final shot of all four of them together, at peace (as this aligns with Alex’s comments from around a year or so ago that the final shot was all four of them). (I also am not sure it was always supposed to be on a bridge since the foreshadowing in an earlier episode showed Dean, Cas and Sam all in the Roadhouse together).

I believe that script went through countless changes and redrafts, and not even production people or the types that some fandom people claim as their “sources” would even have seen those early scripts, since even Misha never saw it. I believe that these rumours of Dabb never having Cas in his finale and ignoring all Destiel elements likely come from people who only saw later versions, weren’t party to network discussions and felt bitter about the final scripts they did see (being the crappy butchered one that was ultimately filmed). Those “sources” are now spreading rumours to discredit Dabb.

I obviously believe Dabb is a weak ass pushover who either didn’t care enough to fight back, or gave up since he’s been stuck with fucking Bob Singer on his back for years, but I will NEVER believe he didn’t care about the DeanCas love story, because he has been one of the few writers who has championed for it for years. You can’t look back at Dabb’s episodes in earlier seasons and claim he didn’t care. Dabb was a writer whose creative ideas were beaten out of him by an unforgiving Network only concerned about where their future money was coming from. Do I think he gave up too easily? Yes. But I also have one other huge reason for not believing the bullshit about Dabb being this anti-Destiel villain.

Bobo. Because if Bobo truly believed Dabb was gonna fuck that up at the end, I don’t think he would have given us Cas’s love confession to begin with. If he had known it was gonna end like that, I think he would have reconsidered, because had Cas not confessed his love, I don’t think he would have been cut from the finale. Bobo - a gay man, would not have wanted such a horrible message for queer fans being put across in the show he worked so hard on. He started writing that confession scene the day they returned to the writers room. Dabb would have been there, would have seen what he was writing, probably discussed it with him, after all, other episodes were written with the confession in mind. No way was Dabb planning to fuck up the ending knowing what Bobo was giving us. Nope.

Something went very wrong over lockdown. Someone, somewhere up the chain of power caught wind of the confession scene in 15x18, realised that it demanded a resolution which would make Dean Winchester, their protagonist, queer, and pulled the plug. I believe this did not come from a place of homophobia, but of bad business sense.

The CW is constantly trying to win the approval and attention of the one demo group that they seem to fail at getting the most: young straight men. Supernatural was one of their only remaining shows that appeals to young straight men, and Dean Winchester is more often than not the fave character of those young straight men who project onto him. Making Dean Winchester, established Han Solo of Supernatural, queer and in love with his best friend in the finale would have come across as a betrayal to those young straight men. The CW probably feared they would lose that demo group for good, and with a show like Walker starting soon with Jared at the helm, they couldn’t take the risk.

Hence there was probably a whole bunch of back and forth script redrafts with the Network, with Dabb and Singer fighting to make a finale that would appeal to everyone. There was most likely no way that they could bring Cas back without addressing what had already been filmed, because any resolution of that plot would either a. make Dean queer, or b. address it awkwardly by having Dean reject Cas (this storyline would probably have been slammed by critics worse than the finale because it meant addressing it. It might have got the attention of LGBTQ activist groups and caused a bigger shitstorm than what we got). The best option was therefore C. Bury it and Cas, pretend it never happened. Never address it again and distract Dean with other things. Hope that Destiel fans will accept no answer from Dean as ambiguous enough to imagine a future reunion rather than shutting it down with a rejection, and still keep hold of the blissfully ignorant heteronormative straight boys so they can carry over to Walker when it starts.

I also believe (controversially probably) that there was concern that any resolution of Dean and Cas would have overshadowed network darling Jared Padalecki. If Dean and Cas had come together in the finale, with a very clearly textual homosexual reunion, then that would have been all anyone talked about. The reviewers, the critics, the audience, everyone. It would have been nothing but Dean and Cas (and look, if they did think this, they were right, Destiel trending over the US ELECTION.)

So what is the network to do, when they are losing the two stars who would get the most attention from this storyline? The one star they were holding on to and getting his own show, relegated to third place in the finale of the show where he was first on the call sheet? Nope. That’s pretty unacceptable. Even without Walker I can imagine people at all levels side eyeing the Destiel thing over the years. This IS a show about two brothers, and their relationship should be the core relationship, we can’t have one brother pushed aside in the finale to make way for a queer relationship that will get all the attention instead. It was never gonna get approved for this reason ALONE.

At the end of the day, if I look at it from a business perspective, it makes far more sense that the CW shut down Destiel, rather than “oh Dabb never cared and ruined it because he’s an idiot.” The writers cared, and had built on that story over years. But their mistake was leaving any Destiel resolution to the finale. If they had instead gone and got Dean and Cas together in early season 15, then they could have ended it in a way that satisfied everyone. Destiel wouldn’t have threatened pulling focus away from Sam and Dean, and the show could have gone out on a high.

When I lay out all the conspiracy theories, and line them up next to the cold hard facts, the conspiracy theories in some way or another, make more sense. To believe the company line, the narrative we have been fed, is to ignore your own eyes, ears, and memories pre March 2020.

All I’m asking people to do is take a look at the show, the narrative presented in the show, and the information presented above. I’m not telling you to believe what I’ve written here, half of which is just my own opinion. I’m asking you to ask yourselves if it makes sense to you. Because it sure as hell doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied.

[selfawarejester]

So, someone requested a fic where Blue Team rescues a Child!Reader from a war zone, but unfortunately Tumblr ate the ask. If you’re the one who requested it, please enjoy!

EDIT: found a screenshot! @simp-for-fictional-men-only, hope you like this!

Blue Team x Child!Reader (Halo)

It’s been a long “day”, even by Spartan standards.

Blue Team had been trying to repel Covenant forces on an Outer Colonies planet for over a week… but it hadn’t been enough. Command had called an evacuation, and after destroying a base to help the efforts, Blue Team had been ordered to help with final evacuation calls in the nearest town.

On the Pelican ride to town, there was a brief moment where they thought it was a waste of resources to send Spartans for an evacuation op, especially because the other Spartan teams were still doing the best they could to strike back at the Covenant; not necessarily to stop them anymore, just to hold them back long enough for the civilians to escape and maybe a little revenge. The events of the week, coupled with the guilt of their brothers and sisters still risking their lives, weighed on them heavily.

But at the end of the day, they’re glad they did: they found a group in the Rec center, a dozen people in the boroughs, twenty in an apartment complex — the Marines wouldn’t have been able to lift most of the wreckage that blocked them from escaping.

By the time they’d gotten to the outskirts of town, Blue Team had been left alone to sweep through the dead town. Chief considered just going to meet up with the Marines — surely, they could match the pace of the overloaded Troop Transports — and this area was just dilapidated factories and shady looking establishments that had long since been stampeded.

But a need to fulfil his task to completion stayed his hand… and thank god it did.

At first, it was just soft sniffles that sounded from the inside of the rundown factory. Chief and Kelly, who’d partnered up to search this side of the district, thought it was one of the many Jackals that had been posted in the previous sector wandering, or a Grunt that had been left behind after the Jackals had entertained themselves (in which case, they should probably put the thing out of its misery), so they go inside.

Chief goes first, moving carefully through the debris so as to not dislodge the wreckage, or disturb the corpses of the few soldiers and more civilians. He retrieves their dog tags, securing them in one of the compartments of the MJOLNIR, and Kelly follows, stepping where he does.

Slowly, the sound becomes louder and louder, wheezing and snotty sobbing. Definitely an injured Grunt, he thinks. It’s coming from under a slab of concrete propped up against a wall. Kelly flanks to the right, while Chief goes to the left. He signals that he’ll lift it on the count of three, and grips the edge of the slab. When the slab gets tossed aside, Kelly raises her shotgun, pointing directly at the small figure.

You shriek and bury your head in your knees, pulled up to your chest. You couldn’t believe that after all the gross, awful things you’d had to sit through, holed up in this corner, you were just going to die.

But when nothing happens for a solid five seconds, you chance a peek over your knees and gasp. S-117 and S-087 are emblazoned across the chests of the armored giants… Spartans.

Kelly and Chief exchange confused gazes, having no idea how to deal with children. The last ones they’d had any interaction with was the Castoffs on Netherop, but they were more feral gremlins than they had been children.

(Kelly and Fred still aren’t entirely sure that the whole incident wasn’t a heat-induced hallucination.)

John really doesn’t want to go through another episode like it, but on the other hand, it would be easier if you were pelting rocks at them.

Kelly, being the more personable of the two, kneels to your height (or as close as a Spartan could get) and softly calls. “You don’t have to be scared. We’re here to help.”

You knew that — they were Spartans! The greatest heroes Humanity ever possessed! You were just shocked that you were getting rescued by them.

“Y-you’re Spartans.” You whisper dumbly, but you couldn’t help it! How are you supposed to be cool when you grew up with Master Chief’s action figure on your nightstand. “Like Master Chief.”

You can’t see it, but John can sense Kelly’s smirk as she looks over at him and points. “Well, that’s the man himself.”

* Oh no. By the way your wet, moved eyes stare up at him, it seems you’re a fan.

OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!!! You hope your pterodactyl screeching wasn’t external.

“Whoa.” This couldn’t be real. You’d passed out from exhaustion, and were dreaming all of this. That could be the only possibility!

John knows that this is the part where he says something witty or inspiring… but he really doesn’t know what to say, so he just awkwardly clears his throat. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head violently, a burning need to not disappoint your childhood hero, and clamber up to your feet… only to wince and lean against the wall, something sticky on your leg.

Now that you’re standing, he can see the dried blood around your ankle. “Hold still!” All the softness is gone from Kelly’s tone as she works on bandaging you up, but you don’t mind, appreciating how careful she’s being.

Co-ordinating with Linda, who informs him that there are patrols scouting the areas — probably only to get any survivors, and not to catch them, but they should still move — and Fred, who tells him that the convoy is flying off-planet via Pelicans in half an hour, John makes some quick calculations.

With the pace you’d set, hobbling alongside Kelly, whimpering every time you put your weight on your left foot, it would take them at least an hour. Too long.

“Whoa…” The sound comes unbidden from Fred when Kelly emerges, with you clutching at her hip, all bloody and dirty. A pang of sympathy strikes as he looks around and realizes all that you must have seen. He was well aware that normal children weren’t nearly as resilient as he and his siblings had been.

“….” He stays silent as you arrive in front of him, staring up at him with slight apprehension, heart racing as he tries to think of something to say — and for some reason, he lands on an awkward, weirdly Southern-sounding. “Hey champ!”

John and Kelly both shoot him weird looks, and he wants to dig a hole and die, when they hear it.

A small giggle falls from your lips, tiny hands covering your mouth as you try not to laugh. Fred sighs in relief, but his anxiety returns when Kelly’s joking voice comes over the comms saying “Well, I guess we know who’s taking care of them.”

Linda drops out of nowhere, and nearly scares you to death as you shriek and bump into John, holding his leg tightly. You don’t really notice how he freezes, confused again.

“…sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry, you think with a pout and drop from Chief’s leg, careful of your own busted ankle.

“That’s Linda, that’s Fred and I’m Kelly. You can just call him Chief. What’s your name?”

“Y-Y/N.”

“Alright. We won’t be able to make it if you’re walking, so you need to get on one of our backs.” Chief tells you, straight to business. “Which one of us do you feel comfortable with?”

He’s really hoping you pick Kelly or Fred. It wouldn’t exactly be a burden, you’re much tinier than the full grown people he’s had to carry out of a war zone, and you’re handling it much better as well, even though you’re barely ten years old.

“Um…” You look shyly up at Fred. “If you don’t really mind…”

*Aw. That’s… actually kind of sweet. Fred beckons you over, and hoists you up between his shoulders, giving you the rundown on what to do if people start shooting, and to hold on tight when he tells you to.

*You’re much more considerate than the freaked out VIPs he’s had to extract. But he still feels you twitch every time the wind causes something to clatter, so he decides to strike up conversation.

“So how did you wind up there?” It’s not until afterwards that he realizes that, unlike soldiers, civilians aren’t comfortable discussing stuff like that. But you answer that it was your dad’s factory, explaining that it was Bring Your Kid To Work Day.

The Spartans, specifically Kelly, asked you questions about it, having never heard of it themselves. After all, military settings rarely allowed such breaches of protocol.

You only trailed off as you got to the part where he told you to hide, and Fred lets it be.

When you finally get to the convoy, a nurse hurriedly tries to pull you away from the Spartans to help out, apologizing for not doing it sooner when Fred tells her it’s fine and that you can stay. After all, Kelly had fixed you up well, and you seemed terrified at the prospect of being left alone.

All that was left to do was fly up to the ship in outer orbit, with the rest of the survivors. Since there were such few Pelicans, everyone had been crammed into them, military and civilians alike. You’d simply wandered onto the one they’d been on, sandwiched between Chief and Fred.

Chief watches you picking at your shorts, and suddenly remembers the chocolate bar Sgt. Johnson keeps giving him - “you’re not yourself when you’re hungry, Chief” He’d snicker and then leave, Chief just standing there, not understanding the reference - but hey, chocolate was chocolate.

“Here. You did well.” Your eyes go wide, and for a second he thinks you’re going to refuse, but then you snatch it out of his hand and snarf it down. This is how it must feel to watch him eat.

“You’re going to like it up there.” Fred chimes in when your gaze starts getting distant again. “Space is really cool.”

In a twist of fate, you find one of your best friends when you arrive on the ship. Their parents promise to take care of you, and thank the Spartans.

When they start directing the survivors to their quarters, you hug every Spartan, even Linda… or their legs, since you couldn’t reach anything else. (Thankfully, you telegraph it pretty well, so they don’t accidentally smack you or something.)

John just stiffens and then nods, Fred pats you on the head awkwardly and shuffles away (he was very shocked by the affection), Kelly laughs and claps you on the shoulder, and Linda just hums and pets you on the head like a dog, walking away afterwards.

You go on to be a Marine yourself, finding yourself on the Halo campaign, where Chief and Cortana save you once more. You’re surprised he still remembers you.

You leave a bar of the same brand he gave you at his shrine, giving a heartfelt eulogy and catching up momentarily with the other members of Blue Team before you all leave again.

You almost faint when he shows up at Requiem, though. Don’t feel bad, as Lasky fanboys behind Chief for the whole campaign.

Palmer corrals you and Lasky into a break room to make fun of your behavior after it’s all over.

[prettychillbrainfreeze]

Sneak peak

Alright everyone! Almost done writing the first chapter and in the process of editing! But I don’t wanna keep y’all waiting. So here’s a sneak peak at the first chapter for Tendrils!

(p.s. sry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. I am dyslexic. I’ll make sure to check it over for the actual fic when i add it to Ao3)

Chapter 1: (Raph’s Nightmare)

TW for this chapter: night terrors, implied violence, body horror, descriptions of gross things. Probably avoid it if you're squeamish. [Take care y’all, if u know said thing may trigger you please don’t hesitate to skip this one. I’ll have more fluff in the actual chapter release.]

    Strung up by his arms, Raph couldn’t see jack. He didn’t need to ta figure out what’s going on. The fleshy tendrils wrapped tightly around his limbs, writhing and squirming like they were alive. His mind felt groggy and slow, and yet he was bluntly aware of the, the things scuttering around beneath him. One of them was talking in a mocking tone, but he couldn’t tell what it was saying over the pounding in his tympanum.

    “Raph. What have you gotten yourself into?” He mumbled to himself. He tried to test the goopy mess holding him up. It probably wasn't that strong, right? It was all fleshy and stuff. Raphael tried to yank against his bounds, Immediately regretting it as his battered body protested. He let out a muffled grunt. The tendrils only yanked tighter like a stretched rubber band. They twisted snugly against his pastron, making his ribs feel like they could rip through his chest. Man it hurt! 

    He had no idea how long he'd been hanging there. His head was pounding and his brain felt slow, and yet his body was restless. Raph wished he could just smash through the stupid alien vines and get out of there. But he was fine with the situation if it meant his brothers were safe and far away from the Kraang.

    For now, his mind added before he could stop it. No, he couldn’t think like that. His brothers were still out there, risking their lives to save the world. They had the courage to keep going, keep fighting, so he had to keep fighting too.

    Raph couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in his gut though as the tendrils lurched and went slack, dropping him to the ground. He didn’t even have time to react before the brainy ooze stretched tightly again, twisting back around his pastron and arms with a spike of pain. He let out a gasp, eyes wide in alarm. He really wished he kept his eyes closed. But he didn’t and was met with bulging sickly green eyes stretched across writhing flesh strips. The fact that the tendrils could stare back at him with slitted eyes made his skin crawl. 

    What was worse, he found himself face to face with the Kraang. He had a clear view of its veiny, brain like body. Its yellow, slitted eyes met his with devious intent. The thing was talking but Raph couldn’t really hear through the haze. It didn’t stop him from getting a clear view of their gaping mouth, with misshapen teeth sticking at odd angles and the sides of its mouth stretching unnaturally in dissatisfaction. 

    He could vaguely make out some words. Something about not being human but protecting them.

    “Why?” The Kraang, who seemed to be the leader, questioned. He kept his tone suspiciously level and calm.

    “It’s my duty,” Raphael replied, his voice steady despite his seething anger and pain. The Kraang’s mouth stretched to a thin line and his bulging eyes stared straight through Raph.

    “A word used by the weak.” Kraang Prime turned from raph, carrying himself with an air of superiority. His mouth was moving again, sweeping his tentacles like hand gestures. He was probably doin’ the whole “evil monologue” thing. Villains sure loved their monologues. Raph really only caught the end of it.

    “- strong will devour the weak.” kraang prime ended, smiling maniacally.

    “Last I checked we weren’t the ones locked in a prison dimension for 1000 years. That’s called smack talk,” Raph retorted. Oh that definitely got under Kraang Prime’s skin. Or whatever it had for skin. His whole face twisted to follow his frown and it kind of looked like it had furrowed its brows. 

    In a moment the alien was up in his face again, close enough to get a noseful of his rancid breath. Guess they didn’t have mints in the prison dimension. The alien was back to monologuing, only this time he wasn’t calm. Sure he was intimidating, but in Raph’s eyes they were just big bullies. Blah blah blah. Something about “witness the true power of the Kraang.” Why were villains always so high strung? 

    ���Now! Where have they taken my key!” Kraang Prime stated more so than questioned.

    “He won’t tell you anything. Let me KILL it!” Raph flinched. He hadn’t heard The Sister Kraang looping around from behind. One look at her left a bad taste in his mouth. She was the one with the largest head, and always seemed to be smiling maniacally. Probably unhinged and definitely out for blood. Raph would have kicked himself for letting her sneak up on him, but he reminded himself what a beating he’d taken earlier. He wasn’t really on his A-game right now.

    “Lady brain face here is right, I’m not telling you jack.” Raph snapped. Kraang Prime had the opposite reaction of what was expected. He laughed sadistically, his slimy face lifting upwards in what resembled a smile.     “You don’t have to tell me. . .

I’ll look MYSELF

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here!

Donate to Higher Ground HERE!

* “Everyone in school thought you were dead.”

* Jessica says bluntly as you walk down the pink streamer filled hallway

* you offer her a fake yawn and a smile.

* “My dad came by for a surprise visit.” She looks confused before her expression smooths

* “Oh your real dad, not Carlisle”

* Carlisle contacted his counterpart, Eleazer to tell him you were running away with a man 300 years your senior

* So of course Eleazer came running -after he probably had a spat with Carmen about who would handle this situation better- to Forks on the first flight he found

* Only to burst through the door to see you and Emmett playing kingdom hearts in the living room

* “Oh, I see the rumors have been vastly exaggerated.”

* Cue -figuratively- sweating Carlisle who takes a sip from his mug

* Since he was already here you figured you would take a few days off from school and show him around

* “Is there anything in particular you might want to see?”

* Edward and Carlisle are looking pretty smug thinking that they’ve already shown you everything of note in the area.

* “I’ve always wanted to see the space needle in Seattle.”

* They both falter when they hear that. All the things they’ve shown you are things humans wouldn’t be able to see, hidden meadows, waterfalls, underwater caverns

* They never thought to show you human landmarks. Eleazer nods a growing smile on his face

* “Seattle has a lot of museums that I’ve wanted to visit as well”

* Carlisle let’s out a sigh of relief, none of his kids would be caught dead at a museum outside of a field trip

* To their dismay and Eleazer’s delight your eyes sparkle

* “Can we go to the pop culture museum and the arboretum too?”

* You don’t even pack, Eleazer tells you you can just buy whatever you need when you get there. You do take a duffel bag full of blood bags though

* And then you’re gone, you leave care instructions for your animals with Edward and you and Eleazer drive off towards Seattle in the rented Mercedes he got at the airport

* “Is it just me... or do they look happier with Eleazer than they are with us.” Edward’s only talking to himself, but Carlisle hears and the oncoming doting parent verbal and mental sputter makes him regret saying anything at all

* “it’s okay Carlisle, I’m sure they’re happy here with us too.”

* You guys stay at a pretty upscale hotel downtown, in the penthouse

* “Are you here on a trip with your boyfriend?” The receptionist asks, and Eleazar straight up starts laughing

* “This is my dad.” You say with a straight face and you can tell the receptionist wants to die

* “I-I’m so sorry, we usually get couples this time of year.” Right, it’s almost Valentine’s Day. Makes sense.

* Still there’s something super gross about people thinking you’re romantically linked to Eleazer

* The penthouse is very nice. There’s an infinity pool on your balcony, and three different bedrooms.

* The trip is really fun, you have a -pretend- meal at the revolving restraint at the needle, and spend the rest of the week museum hopping

* “She feels so familiar....” you mumble to yourself as you gaze at a portrait of a woman with long dark hair

* “That’s Carmen” Eleazer tells you

* “What?!?”

* “She was popular with artists even before she turned, it’s always been a hobby of hers to model” You’re just glad it’s not a nude portrait

* You take super cheesy pictures at the natural history museum, and even better pics at the pop culture museum

* On one of your last nights in the city Eleazer took you to a laundromat

* “I know we’ve been running out of clothes, but I’m sure the hotel has a laundry service”

* Eleazer just grins, talking to the attendant, who takes him to a hidden door.

* Well this isn’t sketchy at all

* Eleazer takes your hand in his as he leads you down a long narrow hallway. When you teach the end there’s a pretty nice bar and what appears to be a jazz club

* “It’s a speakeasy, I thought it might be a little fun for our last day”

* Being beautiful has its perks because the waiter doesn’t even card you, just brings you your dink

* “So...Garrett huh?” You groan, and Eleazer smiles

* You knew this was coming

* “Don’t worry, I’m not like Carlisle, if you like someone I like them too.”

* Well at least he isn’t acting like a total freak about the whole thing

* “I am surprised someone like Garrett is more your flavor though” you raise an eyebrow.

* “In comparison to who?” Eleazer gives you a funny look

* “Edward of course”

* You almost spit out your drink

* “Oh, is this one of those situations where the three of you are a couple together?”

* You start coughing and the waiter brings you a glass of water

* “We’re not together!”

* “Well of course you and Garrett aren’t together yet-“

* “Edward and I aren’t dating.”

* Eleazer just looks at you like you told him you’re pregnant

* “That can’t be right” he mumbles and you sigh

* “Why would you think we were dating?” The jazz singer belts out a high note and Eleazer patiently waits for her to be done so he can talk again

* “Well you went with them to Forks, and when you came to visit last year with him we all just figured it had happened naturally”

* Besides, Eleazer see’s the way he looks at you.

* Like you’re the epitome of your gender, like there’s never been anyone like you and there never will be again

* “We all? The entire coven thinks that?” Your fingers thread through your hair.

* What does Tanya think about that? She must be feeling pretty smug what with that talk she gave you all those years ago about how you would eventually date Edward

* Edward probably knows and just doesn’t even care, the criminal probably thinks it’s funny

* Eleazar watches you have a breakdown, taking a small sip of his brandy. It looks like you haven’t realized the way you look at Edward yet

* You look at him like you don’t have a single doubt. You trust him unconditionally, you know exactly who he is and where he will be.

* You look at him like he’s home

* “This is so embarrassing” you mumble and Eleazer smiles

* He guesses it’s not time yet for you to realize your feelings. Maybe it’s for the best, he’s not as bad as Carlisle, but the thought of giving you away at your wedding makes his heart ache.

* “The best cure for embarrassment is alcohol, drink up.” He grins when you clink your glass against his before gulping down the contents of your drink.

* Who knows, maybe in a few years someone completely different will show up and sweep you off your feet.

* You do talk about something really important with Eleazer though

* “Eleazer when do you think Aro will send for me?”

* Eleazer stops mid motion, his glass halted halfway between the table and his mouth

* “If I’m being honest, I don’t think he will for many years” Eleazer has an awkward expression on his face. “I think he’s afraid of you”

* You sputter

* The great and powerful Aro?! Alive for 1000’s of years. AFRAID OF YOU?!?

* “Oh don’t look at me like that, try and think about it from his perspective.”

* Your power is on par with Janes, but unlike her over the decade you’ve been a vampire your power has only gotten stronger. Your body’s natural despair and your desire to be human feed off of each other, compounding on each other to make your power that much more potent

* The only difference is that now you’ve learned to hide it, keeping your emotions in check so others aren’t hurt

* There isn’t a person alive that stands a chance against you at your full potential. You’re the strongest known vampire

* “Chelsea can’t bind you to coven with her loyalty like she does the others,” Eleazer takes a sip of his drink. “his only choice is to let you come back on your own volition, otherwise he risks a war.”

* A war he wouldn’t win, on your own it was dicey, all of them against just you could go either way

* But you weren’t alone anymore, now you have Tanya, Kate, Irina, Carmen, Eleazer

* And Edward. You know without a second thought Edward would follow you into hell if you asked.

* “Saving any discovery of remarkable talent”

* A discovery like Bella

* You’re not 100% certain, but you’re pretty sure your powers don’t work on Bella, the same way Edward, Jane and Alec’s powers won’t work on her

* And if she can really spread her shield to others-

* You’re f*cked

* “but the chances of that are slim to none.” Eleazer reassures you

* You give him a reassuring smile

* “Salud” you raise you glass and he smiles

* “Salud” he grins as your glass clinks

* You weren’t expecting the week to go by so fast, or to be having as much fun as you did.

* You were pretty sad when the end of the week rolled around and Eleazer dropped you off home

* “He’ll be back before you know it” Edward says, his arm over your shoulders, giving your arm a comforting squeeze

* “Yeah I know, it still feels bad though”

* Edward doesn’t say anything, he just holds you a little closer

* You’re thankful to the Cullen’s for taking you in and giving you an opportunity you might not have had otherwise

* But they’re not your coven, they’re not really your family

* And so now you’re here, walking in a bright pink and red construction paper covered hallway next to Jessica who’s talking about Valentine’s Day

* Ah right, today’s Valentine’s Day

* “Do you think maybe...Mike bought me a carnation?” She asks twirling a strand of hair around her finger

* “I’m sure he did”

* You’re actually sure he bought one for Bella, but you’re hoping the courtesy extends to the whole friend group

* You bought all your friends valentines, and that includes the Cullen’s and everyone on the cheer team

* The money wasn’t the worst part, they were only a dollar each, the worst part was having to write notes for all of them, it wouldn’t have been so bad if the girl at the table wasn’t giving you a dirty look as you pretended to struggle through writing 30 cards

* “How much do you want to bet Bella gets the most flowers out of all of us?”

* You would bet the entire contents of your bank account, but you’re pretty sure Jess can’t match your bet

* “Well, she’s something new to look at, and boys are dumb”

* Jessica blows a strand of hair out of her face. You know she’s probably a bit bitter since she’s started to notice Mike is interested in Bella and not her

* But you kind of get it

* Bella’s cute, but she’s no Cindy Crawford. And to add...she’s really shy, not exactly someone with a charismatic personality.

* The attention she’s garnered will fade in due time, Edward had told you as much

* “It’s the same thing as when we moved to town, most of these kids have gone to school together since childhood, so when someone new gets here it’s all they can think about. They don’t really like her, they just like the idea of her. The illusion of a choice”

* It made you a little sad to be honest, even worse was that Bella didn’t seem to enjoy the attention. She seemed uncomfortable every time a boy flirted with her

* “I almost feel bad for her, I get the feeling she’s not really into any of these guys that are chasing her” Jessica says, so you’re not the only one that’s noticed

* You’re a little surprised that when the student comes by with carnations you get two entire bouquets worth

* And then they come back the next period and give you another bouquet

* “Oooo someone’s popular!” Angela teases and you shrug. Most of these are from Alice and Rosalie, they each bought you three each

* You got a whopping 12 from Conner which feels a bit surprising

* You knew he was going after it, but you didn’t think he would bother to actually put any effort into his attraction outside of flirting with you

* You’ve got one from everyone in your friend group, a handful from others on the cheer team, Emmett and Jasper both bought you one

* The only person who didn’t get you one was Edward

* You wonder if he got Bella one? The thought seems unlikely since they were basically at each others throat the last time they were together

* So imagine your surprise when you walk into the hall to see Bella and Edward talking

* You’re gone for a week and it’s like they’re suddenly insta-friends

* In fact, Bella’s actually blushing, a carnation twirling between her fingers

* A light red carnation

* So he did buy carnations after all, just not for you

* And Edward...his eyes are sparkling as he looks down at her. A lopsided grin curling onto his face

* Oh, there’s that smile

* He says something to her and she pouts, slapping him lightly with the carnation

* They’re getting along just fine without your matchmaking efforts

* So you were the problem

* You should be happy, relieved even-

* But all you can feel is the sharp twist in the bottom of your stomach

* “Hey (Y/N/N), I see you got my flowers”

* You turn around to see Conner who’s looking at your half zipped bag, 3 bouquets of flowers popping out of the top

* “Oh, yeah thanks they’re beautiful.”

* “I’m glad you got them, I noticed you weren’t at school and for a second I was worried you wouldn’t be here today too.”

* He really is cute. He’s got chocolate brown hair and clear blue eyes, a splatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He plays tennis or baseball or some other irrelevant sport.

* He’s popular with the girls too, he dated Lauren a few times, and Jessica admitted she had a crush on him freshman year.

* “Are you feeling better now?” He asks, he looks genuinely concerned and it takes you back a bit

* “Yeah, my dad came for a surprise visit so we went to Seattle”

* “Oh that’s cool, what did you guys do?”

* You’re a little surprised that Conner O’Malley, f*ckboy extraordinaire, is Trying to engage you in an honest conversation

* “We just did all the tourist stuff, space needle, museums, food, the usual.”

* Conner smiles at you, hands fidgeting together

* “That’s cool, did you um-did you read the note with the bouquet?

* You didn’t notice there was a note, you swing you backpack around, picking out his bright red bouquet with ease.

* You hadn’t paid attention to the note attached than reading the name on the front to see who they were from.

* “Will you be my valentine” you read the note out loud, feeling confused. What does that mean

* He fidgets in front of you, from here you can see his ears are bright red

* “So would you want to go out sometime?”

* He’s asking you out? On a proper date????

* “We could go watch a movie, or um I know you like to ride those bikes in Port A-“ you do like to ride those bikes in port a

* You watch the his human boy fumble over himself. There’s no future with this boy, one day he’ll grow old and want things you won’t be able to give him.

* “I have a ton of homework to catch up on-“

* “Oh, yeah no, I get that”

* But maybe... maybe it’s okay just to pretend and let yourself be entertained by the experience

* “Would you want to come with me to the library? I’m totally lost on Trig”

* You know it’s not the most romantic place, but that’s part of the reason you suggested it. You want to give him an out

* He looks a little surprised but recovers quickly.

* “I’ll meet you after school then, we can drive to the library together”

* You don’t bother telling Edward, you just look to the spot where he’s with Bella, he must have heard

* His eyes meet yours, his mouth pinches into a slight smile and he gives you a nod before turning back to Bella

* What so just because he’s got a new friend you’re invisible now?

* Stupid Edward. Not like you care, you just wanted him to know he’d have to ride home with the others

* Maybe his new best friend Bella can give him a ride home

* “So you’re going out with Conner tonight huh?” Mike asks when you take your seat in biology

* Edward doesn’t so much as spare you a glance

* “He’s just helping me catch up on school work.” You shrug, pulling out your biology homework

* “I bet he’ll help you catch up on-“

* “You’re going out with Conner?” Bella interrupts, you’re grateful for it but at the same time: those doe eyes and innocent face irritate you

* “He’s just helping me catch up on homework I missed”

* “Couldn’t Edward hell you do that?”

* You try to not look at Edward

* But what the f*ck?!?

* Last week the two of them couldn’t even sit in a car together for a short ten minute drive, and now all of a sudden she’s asking why you’re NOT spending time with Edward?

* It’s so... irritating

* You feel a tap on your arm, and turn to look at Edward

* “Control yourself”

* Oh great so the one time he decides to acknowledge your presence is to tell you to control your powers because he’s worried about his little human girlfriend getting the whiplash?!?

* Seriously, f*ck off Edward

* “Mr. Barnes I have to go to the nurse.”

* You don’t even wait to hear his answer, you just grab your bag and walk out

* You keep walking, practically fuming until you get to the parking lot

* Well you can’t leave, you already told Conner you’re going with him to the library after school

* Not to add it’s going to look real weird if you don’t go the nurses office eventually after storming off like that

* But you don’t want to go there yet

* Queue you discretely crouching under a window, lightly tapping the glass

* “Rosalie, Rosalie can you hear me?” You whisper

* Rosalie head turns to the window, her eyebrows threaded together, you poke your head just slightly above the ledge and give her a small smile and a wave

* Well at least it’s always interesting with you around

* “What are you doing?” Rosalie asks when she meets you under the school staircase

* You give her a nervous smile before collapsing onto the floor

* She gives you a knowing look before sitting beside you

* “So what did king Brood do now?”

* Queue the Edward rant

* “I leave for one week and all of a sudden he’s besties with some human, when just last week he told me not to get to close to her”

* “That’s Edward for you, king of the brood and hypocrisy.” Rosalie leans her head back against the wall

* “You know he didn’t even get me a carnation?”

* Rosalie rolls her eyes

* “That sounds like him, if it helps he didn’t buy me a carnation either, he just doesn’t think things like this are important”

* “He bought Bella one.”

* Rosalie sputters at that, so you retell her all about the flirting you had to watch

* “What color was the carnation?” Rosalie asks, and your eyebrows thread together

* Why is that important right now?

* “Um I don’t know, not quite pink, not quite red, something in between.”

* Rosalie’s expression smooths

* So that’s his game

* “Don’t worry about it too much as long as it’s not a deep red it doesn’t mean love”

* Now it’s your turn to sputter

* “W-what why would I be worried? Edward can do whatever he wants, even if it is with some human”

* Rosalie gives you a knowing look, and you avert your eyes

* If Rosalie were cruel she might ask why you’re sitting out here with her instead of in class, if you don’t care about what Edward does

* But Rosalie isn’t cruel, at least not to you

* She pats your shoulder, and you sigh

* “Come on let’s go to the nurse so you can pretend you have cramps or something” you nod

* “Besides don’t you have a date with the hottest human boy at our school?” You groan and a teasing smile curls onto her lips

* “Not you too.”

* The date is over hyped for sure, it’s mostly you and Conner sitting at the end of a small table asking each other questions about the trig homework

* “So...are you supposed to use the radical formula for this one?”

* “I think so..do you remember the formula?” Conner scratches his head

* “Um I remember there was a story about a mixed up guy going to a party that’s supposed to help”

* Basically it’s more like you’re helping Conner with home work than him helping you Totally underwhelming

* “Sorry, I bet there are better ways to spend your Valentine’s Day” Conner scoffs

* “Are you kidding? I’m spending it with the hottest person at Forks HS, as far as I’m concerned this is a win” he grins and you smile back

* Well, it wasn’t completely a waste

* You roll around back home around 11:30, everyone’s gone, on with their own Valentine’s Day plans.

* You’re not surprised to see Edward’s not in his room either He’s probably out watching Bella or doing god knows what

* You know this is the way it supposed to be, it’s the best thing for you too, you know even with Bella in the mix Edward would never betray you

* Once she’s on your side you don’t have to worry about the Volturi. But still, there a twist in your stomach You don’t like this new Edward, even if it is who he really is.

* You want your Edward back

* You sigh as you walk down the hall and into your room Stopping in the doorway when you flick on the lights

* There on your desk is a bouquet of roses

* You have half a mind to think they’re from Eleazer or Garrett or something

* So imagine when you pull off the card to see Edward’s name attached

* “Glad to have you home, happy Valentine’s Day” - Edward

* You toy with the card, a small smile curling onto your lips

* Maybe he’s still your Edward

* Your Edward just more anti-social

Tags:  @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @ xxxmuxxx @ideas-for-you-to-adopt​​ @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796​ @moose-squirrel-asstiel​ @hotmessgoodness @jaimewho @corabmarie @what-am-i-doing10​

[glitteryhellhole]

alright lets do this

here we go

Title: The Tent Fandom: Z nation Pairing: 10K x female reader Word count: approx 3k Rating: 18 Description: fluffy smut with awkward cinnamon roll 10K

A gas station. A real life, untouched gas station. Apart from the bloody handprints smeared on the concrete walls.

It didn't take long to sweep and secure the area, then fill up the truck and the reserve cannisters. Afterwards Warren gestured with her gun to the convenience store. “Look for anything useful.”

The place had been untouched since day one. Mummified hot dogs still sitting on a rack. The register hanging open- perhaps in the beginning some people had looted cash, but it didn't take long to realise money didn't mean anything anymore.

You shoved bottles of water and packets of candy into your rucksack before following Addy's gaze to the toiletries shelf. Pads and tampons, little travel-sized bodywashes, an actual toothbrush.

“It's a whole new kind of mercy,” she whistled.

You picked up the first aid kit and the two crushed boxes of painkillers, turning to ask Doc if they'd be any good- and found him and Murphy kneeling on the counter, pulling away the plastic panel which guarded the cigarettes.

Priorities, huh.

Loaded up, you looked around you. Warren was on watch so 10K had let his guard down for once and was poking at the faded magazines. You saw his pink lips move as he mouthed the titles to himself. Something familiar caught his eye, probably the one with guns all over, and he reached up- and the whole top shelf came tumbling down. Suddenly 10K was surrounded by glossy double-page spreads of unnaturally bronzed and perky breasts and butts.

He froze like an animal in a trap.

“Found what you're looking for?” Doc's voice was loud and his arms were cradling an impressive quantity of alcohol. “There's a lot of generic lesbians, over forties, asian fetish, but for a beginner I'd recommend-”

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a crash as 10K backed rapidly out of the shop, cheeks ablaze, taking down a stand of air fresheners and sending sunglasses skittering across the floor in every direction.

The rest of you laughed, for the first time in a while. Back in the truck and passing round bags of only-slightly-stale chips, you all agreed that the gas station was your best find in quite some time.

Except perhaps for the tent.

A little way back, a stranded family had been incredibly grateful for a tow out of the ditch, and had gifted you their spare tent. No ordinary camping gear, this thing was foil-lined and had a built in waterproof, cushioned underlayer. On an especially hot night you'd probably want it to yourself but the rest of the time it comfortably housed two people, keeping in the heat. You'd been taking turns each night, with priority to the injured, meaning that every morning there was at least one person who was fully rested and recharged. Ideal when every day was a battle for survival.

Of course, there was one other advantage to the tent. Privacy. Human needs didn't really get talked about in this un-human world, and whatever got overheard in the night would also go unspoken.

It was nearing dusk and you were pulling over to make camp. “Who's turn in the tent?” Murphy called out as he threw himself down on the ground. “Dibs.”

Warren, who was unloading a heavy bag, gave him a kick in the side. “Get up and help. I don't think 10K's had a turn yet.”

“Neither's she.” He nodded at you.

“Settled then.”

Murphy sniggered.

Since there was plenty of water, there was a rare chance to wash up a bit. Ladies first while the men stood watch with their backs turned, and then vice versa. Nowhere near to having a hot shower in privacy, but it was something. You noticed that 10K didn't bother putting his shirt back on afterwards as he squatted by the fire cleaning his weapons, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

How could somebody so skinny be so strong? Must be the result of life outdoors.

He raised an eyebrow and you realised you were staring. Oops.

“Here.” Somebody passed you a can of cheap beer that had come from the store along with the snacks and cigarettes. It was almost like being at a camp-out. The beer was gross but it gave you a nice warm feeling in your chest, and the idea of lying down somewhere soft started to seem quite appealing, so you said your goodnights and retreated into the tent.

You weren't sure how long it was until you were joined, perhaps you'd started to drift off- the sound of the zip jolted you back to your senses as 10K flopped unceremoniously into the tent, stretching out next to you. “Beer makes shoelaces hard.” He complained.

You giggled and sat up to help. “When was the last time you slept without shoes on?”

“Probably before my voice broke.” He scratched his head while watching you remove his boots and then said, “I'm not good at talking, especially to girls, but you don't scare me.”

“Thanks for the compliment, I think?” You laid back down, closing your eyes and pulling your blanket over you. There was silence for a minute but it was oddly comfortable, the security of a warm person breathing next to you.

“What was your first word?” You asked into the silence. “I bet it was gun.”

“Actually it was primrose.”

“Huh?”

“My momma's favourite flower.” He rolled over onto his stomach, closing the gap between you, and rested his cheek on his folded arms. “I was six. Doctor said I wasn't learning but I was paying attention to everything. She used to take me to the library in town to look at all sorts of books, that where we learned to sign.”

You couldn't help but ask. “When did she...?”

“When I was nine. Pops wanted me to try and be a normal kid but once she'd gone he didn't want anything to do with the rest of the world and stopped sending me to school.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's ok.” He wriggled a little to get more comfortable. “Can you talk for a bit now?”

So you talked about your own parents, and your hometown, and it surely wasn't very interesting but 10K watched you intently as he sobered up, studying your face, and you hoped you weren't blushing. After a while you came to a natural conclusion in your story and realised that his fingers were twitching, as though he were nervous.

What's up?” you asked softly.

He blinked slowly. “Ain't always easy to tell when you're supposed to say stuff and when you're not.”

Unsure what to expect, you gave him an encouraging nod.

“Can I... touch your hair?”

Your heart started to beat a little fast and you nodded again. 10K's fingers reached out timidly to feel you hair, twisting strands and brushing them away from your face.

You hadn't felt human touch in so long, and you couldn't help but rest your head on his arm as he stroked. The pair of you seemed to breathe in unison. It was almost peaceful.

Almost. Apart from the little sparks of electricity that seemed to fizzle into life where your skin touched his.

Could he feel it too? It didn't seem so. There he was growing more and more serene, while you were   warming up in a way that had nothing to do with the insulated tent.

“Um...” You fidgeted awkwardly, trying to choose the right words. “10K? You know why they were giggling right?”

“Uh-huh.” His eyes were closed. “People do stuff in the tent. Its pretty obviously I've never... y'know.”

“Does it bother you?”

“A bit, but its not like I can go meet a girl and ask her Pops if I can take her to the barn dance.”

You couldn't help but laugh a little. “I mean the teasing.”

“Oh.” He blushed slightly as he opened his eyes to look at you. “I get why, you're near my age and you're pretty. Any guy would be lucky to date you.”

Oh indeed. Maybe he did feel it then.

“You could...” You bit your lip and steeled yourself. “You could pretend that you were.”

He sat bolt upright, making you jump, and a wide grin spread across his face. “I could ask you on a picnic, at my favourite place in the woods.” His words were tumbling out fast from nervous excitement. “Make nice bread, Mom's special recipe with the dried fruit. And we could talk like we did earlier and I could pick you flowers and then I could kiss you.”

His lips were clumsy as they first met yours, but eager, and didn't take long to find a groove. You sighed and leaned in, one hand reaching up into his hair, and-

A single gunshot cracked through the air.

In an instant 10K was lurching for the tent entrance where his gun was propped. You reached for your shoes, panic rising in your chest.

“False alarm.” Doc's voice came from outside. “Nothing to worry about. Hey, you okay in there kid? Need me to give ya a quick pep talk on anything?”

“I'm good.” He zipped the flap back up then turned back to you. “Actually do you think maybe I should? I don't really know what to do.”

You couldn't help but laugh again. He was way too innocent for someone so good-looking.

You put and hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.  “Just do what feels natural.”

“Okay.” He gave you another wide grin, showing those adorably crooked teeth, and then practically launched himself at you, so you landed on your back and he was on top of you, lips moulding to the shape of yours. You gasped for air and 10K made an apologetic sound without pausing the kiss, propping himself up on one elbow so that you could breathe.

His hand rested on your stomach, fingers still for a moment before balling up your shirt and gently navigating the exposed skin. Tentative. Like soothing a spooked animal.

You reached your hand up to touch his shoulders, feeling hard muscle under surprisingly soft skin. Tracing his collarbones and around the back of his neck. He shivered and broke the kiss, and you saw his tongue dart out to wet his lips.

“Maybe I could take your shirt off too.” He mumbled. In answer you sat up and held your arms above your head. 10K pulled your shirt over your head- sending the little lamp tied to the tent roof swinging- then looked confused as his thumb hooked into the shoulder strap of your sports bra. You kind of wished you'd been wearing something nicer for this occasion, but you'd dressed for practicality before hitting the road.

“Here. Let me.” You wriggled out of the bra, trying not to elbow him in the process.

“Wowee.” 10K let out a whistle. “You look even better without clothes on. Why would anyone want to look at random pictures?”

It seemed like he could have sat there and stared forever, but you didn't have forever, and so you pulled him in to kiss again. He trailed his lips across your face and on to your neck, one arm supporting you from behind and the other hand landing on your chest, squeezing experimentally.

“Not so hard,” you gasped.

“Sorry. They're squishier than I expected.” He let out a humming noise into the crook of your neck as his fingers found a hard nipple and brushed back and forth.

You dipped your head down too, lightly touching your teeth to his throat. A low growl escaped and he pushed you back down, pressing his body close to yours, and you could feel his eager hardness against your hip.

10K tried the same move, nipping at the skin under your ear. His breathing was very shallow and rapid as he licked and sucked experimentally, moving down over your breasts.

“You taste good. But not in a zombie way.”

Your hands rested on his hips, fingers splaying out to softly squeeze his ass and then dipping below the loose waistband.

“Oh, wait.” He rolled off you to shed a pile of concealed knives and the little sharp discs that he used in the sling shot.

“What else are you hiding down there?” You smirked. For a moment he turned beetroot red and covered his crotch with his hands, but then met your smile with one of his own.

“Just means I like you and I like this.” He shrugged. “Do you-”

“Mmhmm.” You reached out to ease his trouser buttons undone, fumbling slightly, but you weren't nervous. It just felt right with him. “I like you. And I like this.”

He groaned softly as the restriction on his hardness eased and grabbed you for another kiss, this time hungry and slightly sloppy. 10K's fingers found the fastening of your own jeans and made quick work, tugging them down to your knees. Then he paused for a moment, putting a finger to your lips.

There was no noise from outside.

“We're good.” With a bit of awkward shuffling, you both shed your trousers and then looked at each other.

“We probably shouldn't go all the way,” you said almost reluctantly. “No protection and all that. But there's still stuff-”

“Anything.” 10K blurted out without a second's pause. “Everything. I'll do whatever you want. But not what you don't want.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips again as he stared at you earnestly.

You felt a shiver travel down your spine. Nobody had ever looked at you quite like that before. Not just lust but something deeper, as though he was seeing through your skin and right inside you.

“Come here,” he whispered huskily, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap. You sighed into the kiss and slowly moved your hips, letting your centre rub against his as you straddled him, tangling fingers in his messy hair.

10K moaned something that sounded like “shucks” and you couldn't help but snort. What would it take to make him swear? You dug your nails in a little, catching his lip between your teeth.

“Want to touch you.” He moaned, gripping your hips. “Want you to touch me.”

You trailed your hand from his cheek all the way down to cup the pronounced bulge in his boxers and his eyes rolled back in his skull, but then he visibly shook himself and swatted your hand away. “Ladies first.” The hand slid a little clumsily down into your knickers.

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against 10K's, feeling how hot his skin was. His curious fingertips traced your labia and in between.

“It's wet.” He sounded surpised, and brought a thumb to his mouth to taste.

“That's a good thing.” You felt a little self-conscious as you explained, watching him suck his thumb. “It means I'm, you know, turned on.”

“Show me how to make it feel good,” he murmured, lifting you off his lap and laying you back down before tugging your knickers all the way down and spreading your legs.

You took his hand in yours and guided him, showing him your clit. His marksman fingertips quickly picked it up and he kissed you again as he touched you. “Am I doing it right?”

“Yeah you're- oh, yeah thats good.” Your voice was high-pitched and breathy. 10K made a satisfied “hmph” and nuzzled into your neck. He smelled of safety. Less dirt and blood than usual, traces of soap, whatever he was using for hair gel, engine oil. Sweat but not in the just-been-running-and-fighting way, in the musky hormonal way.

The feeling swelling inside you was something you hadn't experienced, hadn't even thought about, in a long time. But here and now it was growing, consuming, and you couldn't imagine anything other than his touch, his hot breath on your cheek.

“Hey.” 10K's voice was husky again. “You need something else?”

You became aware that your hips were twitching. “A bit faster maybe?”

A moan escaped your lips as he obliged, and 10K grinned. “That's hot.” Then he cocked his head to one side, raising his eyebrows. “I assume girls can- y'know-”

“It looks a bit different but yes.” You were gasping now as you spoke, chest rising and falling.

“Do it for me.” He murmured, watching you as though hypnotised and biting his lip. His words and his gaze loosened the coiled spring that was weighing down your abdomen and the endorphins came rushing as you climaxed.

“Shh.” He pressed his mouth to yours and swallowed your moan, pressing his fingers harder as you moved beneath him until it became almost too much. “Do you want them to hear us?”

You shook your head, trying to control your breathing.

“Maybe you do.” He raised an eyebrow again as his fingers finally slowed to a halt. “I kinda do. So they all know what I just did to you.”

“Do you want your turn or not?”

That shut him up. He glanced down and you followed his gaze. He was still very much erect, and there was now a distinct wet patch where he'd leaked a little in excitement.

You pushed 10K onto his back and settled yourself next to him. “Let me know if something's not ok,” you told him. “I won't do anything you don't want.”

He nodded and closed his eyes. He flinched a little as you pulled his boxers down but then his face relaxed and his lips parted as you touched him.

“Have you done this to yourself?” You asked. “So you know what you like.”

He nodded, looking somewhat bashful. “A few times. But this is different. Better.”

It was your turn to grin as your fingers circled his erection and found a rhythm. 10K's head tilted back and the smallest of high-pitched noises escaped his open mouth. You lowered your lips to his exposed neck and sucked gently at the skin. There was a red mark when you pulled away.

“Mmmph.” He rasped through gritted teeth. “Again.”

“It'll leave a bruise.”

“Don't care.”

You began to create a trail of little hickeys down his throat and across his collarbones as you continued to stroke, and his tiny whimpers grew more frequent. You knew it wouldn't be long.

10K was holding onto you tightly, nails digging in, droplets of sweat visible on his forehead. “I think I'm gonna- ahh....” He seemed to lose the ability to speak as you attacked his neck again, eyes rolling back. A few moments later, his hips bucked and you could feel hot sticky warmth coat your fingers.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

So he did swear after all.

You kissed him again, and then looked down. “Um, got anything to clean up with?”

Still breathing heavily, 10K sat up and reached for his trousers, pulling a bandana out of one of the many pockets. “It's my least favourite. I'll burn it.”

Like the gentleman he'd been raised to be, he wiped your hand off first before tending to himself, then tossed the soiled cloth out of the way and pulled you close. You rested your head on his chest. You'd heard the term 'afterglow' but never really thought that it was a thing; it apparently was. The chemicals your brain was releasing and the protective hold of his arms made you want to laugh, and cry, and drift off to sleep, and run a mile, all at once.

Just for a moment, there was no apocalypse. There was only you and him and the little lamp above your heads.

It was 10K who broke the spell. “I need to pee.” he said apologetically. “Like, real bad.”

You laughed at the face he was pulling and threw his trousers at him. 10K slithered with some difficulty into them, kicking the side of the tent, and then stumbled outside.

You realised how cold it was now and reached for your own clothes. As footsteps indicated 10K's return, you could have sworn you heard the sound of a high-five.

“What was that?” You demanded as he re-entered the tent.

“Never mind.” He grabbed the blanket and laid it over you.”I  want to do that again. But we should probably get some sleep.”

“The whole point of the tent is to get proper rest right?” You scooted closer as he laid down, offering the blanket, but he refused, tucking it round you and then wrapping his arms round too so you were tightly cocooned against his side.

“Yeah. Sure.”

>>>>>Thanks for reading! This is the first fanfic i’ve done in literally years. Open to feedback and even perhaps requests :) PS i am v english so I apologise to any Americans insulted by my attempts at your words

[angelthebedsheet]

If you’re ok with it, could you do Hawks, Todoroki, Shinsou, Bakugo and Kaminari with a black support engineer s/o with big curly hair and stretched ears? Maybe she wears gauges with their hero theme? Just some cute fluff!

a/n: oooooh bitch okayyyyy!! i like that! hawks my lil bird bitch ✋🏽🥺

your quirk! super brain.

what is it? you have the ability to memorize things easily, piece complex puzzles together, make great strategies. you essentially are a megamind. you are incredibly smart invention-wise. you are skilled in support hero work so you are one of the go to’s for hero modifications, suits and basic designs.

hero name? hakim: the tinker hero

why the name hakim? from what i searched up it has arabic and african significance and it’s one of the 99 names based on the attributes of Allah. the two famous bearers of this name were hakim ajmal khan, the india physician and hakim muhammad saeed, a pakistani medical researcher. if i got any of this wrong please message me so i can fix this! i want to stay as respectful as possible as i love to include names that hold a message!

i might have to split this into two parts bc this gets long!! i just assumed reader is fem presenting bc you can use feminine pronouns and not be a girl like me. also disclaimer i only take 4 characters at a time per request but i dont think at the time of this request i had finalized my requirements in my masterlist so IMMA LET IT SLIDE. sorry this is late as SHIT. lets get it!

——————————————————————————

Hawks

okay we all know he’s a lil shit

and we all know how he be

you are working on your next commission piece in your studio when your window opens

you can only sigh

“what happened kei.”

“now birdie dont get mad now okay”

“what did you do.”

“i may have.... broke my visor and destroyed my jacket?”

how the fuck do you do that.

“what.”

“ahahah...”

boot to the face

when you two were first dating

which was back in hs

you helped him figure out how his hero costume would be along with how they would sit comfortably on his wings

i mean i love the idea of you roasting him while measuring him

“where’s your fuckin DRIP kei.”

“y/n PLEASE. i came here to get a new costume not get slandered”

“well you jus gon have to deal with it sugar, especially when you look like a mess.”

he had definitely bought you so many gauges that have little red feathers hanging from it

or simply his initials hanging from it to the point where you just wear one of his feathers around your neck

marking his territory and making sure you are safe

protective and trendy!

i hc that he has alot of bird like tendencies so you probably have to stop him from stealing the lil shiny things you have

your nuts and bolts allat

“keigo put my bolt down”

“but its so SHINY”

“NO.”

cue keigo’s WHINING

sometimes he just sits on his stool you put for him and play with your ears

like he’ll stare at them and ask you questions

“do they hurt?”

“kei im trying to focus”

“like they’re all stretched how long did they take?”

or he’ll bounce your curls

you’re just polishing a piece of hero gear

here comes kei silently sitting on his stool and gently grabbing a strand of your hair

pulling it down then you hear a quiet

“boing”

i hc that kei has adhd, has lil tic and has to fidget

(can you tell i self project onto majority of them)

(i mean hawks’ quirk must be IMMACULATE for fidgeting 😫👌🏽👌🏽)

(its dead his fault why i have a pretty bird tic)

and one day

“kei baby, here.” you said as you handed him a box. he cocked his head slightly as he looked at it. “what is this, dove?” he asked as he took the box. “well, i made you something to help with your fidgets.” you said as you rubbed the back of your neck. his wings puffed out as he smiled. he opened the box and gasped. you watched as his eyes brightened while he took out the keychain fidget toy. it has multiple sides to it. metal rings connected by two hoops, red, white and beige plastic bangs that were at the ends with two small red feathers at the chains. you watched as he bit his lips and tried not to cause a big reaction. “do you like it, pretty bird?” you asked. he nodded and pulled you into a hug. “thank you so much, baby.” he said into your shoulder. “and you can hook it onto your pants. cute, right?” you said as you gently rubbed his back. “yep, i’m cuddling the fuck outta you. lets go.” he said as he let you go and sweeped you up into his arms. you squealed with a giggle and wrapped your arms around his neck as he ran to the bedroom.

Todoroki Shouto

yall are in hs okay no time skips lmao

todoroki loves EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU

i mean he has so many sneaky pics of you working on your projects

oil on the cheek, gloves, goggles

straight up working in your zone

he will post on his story sometimes like

“look at my s/o”

“they’re working hard”

dry ass cute shit yk?

he carries scrunchies and glass cleaners 24/7

you take your projects on the go so he’ll just take out a scrunchie and neatly pull them curls back into a pineapple

my mans lowkey was struggling at first bc DAMN

CURLS BE FIGHTIN HIM

love the idea of todoroki watching youtube tutorials bc he’s TIRED of getting his ass BEAT by them

he kinda gets a lil grossed out when you take out your gauges and your earlobe kinda just dangles

like earrings in? cool asf

them out? my mans fold like a lawn chair. he looks away or makes a stink face

“are they in?”

“yes they’re in you lil baby. you can try attempted murder but you can’t look at stretched earlobes?”

“shut UP”

he does internally swoon when you put in gauges that match his hair colour

like you love him that much? okay i see

he’s amazed by how you work

sometimes he’ll just stand behind you like a lil sibling in the door way

“mom said it’s my turn on the xbox.”

(not at how me and todoroki are both the youngest siblings)

when you saw his first hero costume you busted out LAUGHING

that day you roasted todoroki to the point where he left

“janitor looking ass. my nigga where you goin? a space adventure? scary ass.”

“😐 are you done.”

“space jam headass, lookin like a g.i joe action figure. terminator lookin ass.”

“alright im leaving”

“no wait come back andjajdjsba”

i hc that todoroki has panic and anxiety attacks and things like that

so you made him a little sumn sumn for his anxiety

“candy, look here for a second?” you called out, making todoroki hum and look up from his notebook. “what happened?” he asked as he cocked his head slightly. “made you something.” you said as you handed him a small box. his eyes light up as he gently took the box. “really? are you sure?” he questioned. you only nodded with a smile as you placed your pencil behind your ear. you watched as he carefully opened the box. he pulled out a tan clicker toy and smiled confused. “what’s this, bub?” he questioned as he placed the box down. “a fidget toy i made for you that can help with your anxiety. it can help ground you when you feel overwhelmed? hopefully? oh! it also has a music box feature.” you said as you pointed at the back of the toy. he silently turned the toy around and you leaned over and pressed a button that played a music box version of a pearl by mitski. you watched as his shoulders loosened up at the sound of his favorite song. he placed the toy down while he tried to hold his smile back. he sighed and smiled widely. “thank you, i love it, bubba.” he said sweetly. “i’m glad you like it.” you whispered. “may i kiss you?” he asked. you simply nodded before he gently cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your lips. you pulled him into a hug.

[sun-flower-children]

Felix with MC that has wings

A/N: Yes @demon-paradise​ I totally can write that :) awww thank you so much :’))) I might have changed some details on accident so I’m sorry in advance but yeah not too much based on canon.

When you first entered the world you were how you were at the convention. Wearing your handmade, but still well crafted, Sunstone Order Knight uniform and in a very much basic human form. When you were surprised by the feeling of a sobbing crying form you still had a normal human silhouette. When you met Anisa and Sage in the fire-lit office you still looked the same. You continued to look the same while you lived in their “secret” headwaters and learned about the world around you as well as how to defend yourself. 

Felix mentioned how he could sense the magic flowing through you and that it also felt relatively knew. You told him all you could about the convention with the glowing from inside a glass box. You don't remember quite touching it but you felt leaving the place you were at to be in the place you are now. You were trying to just not randomly let out bits of magic and not turn anyone so Felix taught you breathing excessive and other techniques to help you with control and letting gout the amount that you intend.

After touching Rime’s magical book that Felix unearthed from the depths of the study’s couch you had felt a strange stirring and a wave of tingles, kind of similar to those one would get when listening to asmr but all over the body, then immediately feeling a sharp pain in your back. The initial shock left you in almost a coma state and you woke up on your bed. You were laying on your stomach and felt an unnatural amount of weight on your back pushing down into the mattress. Experimentally stretching your arms out and feeling grossed out by the slime like liquid that was covering the bed on both sides of you. You felt a little bubble of panic popping inside of your stomach and starting breathing in slowly to calm yourself down. You focused of the soft feathery feeling that’s tickling the back of your knees. ‘That doesn’t feel so bad’ you think to yourself.

Bringing your arms in at a 90 degree angle, preparing to push yourself up, and surprisingly feel that you couldn’t. There was too much weight for you to push yourself so easily. You open your eyes a look toward the window and see that the sun had just started pushing against the horizon. Your eyes wander towards the floor-length mirror on the opposite side of the room and see that your shape on the bed wasn’t what you expected it to be. you could make out the bump for your head but then there was a giant and lengthy curve before seeing the subtle shapes of your feet.

Now abandoning the calm breathing technique you start to panic. Without thinking you flung yourself off the bed and onto the floor. The weight crushing you and pushing you to the floor. You slide yourself, shaking and struggling, reaching for the nearest chair to push yourself upwards. Arms shaking from being bed ridden for a while and creaking under all the pressure. ‘How long was I on the bed’ you think once again to yourself. Finally bringing yourself high enough to bringing your knee off the floor and immediately crumbled again, your head hitting the edge of the chair. Your groan was loud and cut through the silence that you didn’t quite realized was so deafening until now.

Enough time had passed where you were struggling to get on your knees that now the sunlight was peaking over the bottom of the window sill. Your knees gradually warmed up and were ready to bring you into the vertical position you have been working towards. when looking at your feet you was long feathers sweeping the floor and tickling your toes once in a while. Breathing hard, sweating and shaking with pain and also from being used so quickly after not moving for so long. Your back ached and you could truly stand already trying to stay in decent posture only to fall backwards and feeling the flames of pain searing up your back. Tears flowing of the sides of your face and you angrily cried in frustration. You could stand as long as you hunched over so that the weight on your back wasn’t dragging you down as much.

Looking into the mirror you saw the wings that were now behind you. The weight that you could feel pulling tender skin down and stretching it in every which a way as you moved. You were too tired to feel the shock you would have otherwise, delirious with the pain. Giving up on standing you flung yourself to the wall space by the mirror and leaned against the nearby bookshelf. The sounds of footsteps could be heard. But lighter smaller ones, not those of soldiers or even a large cat man. Too weak to properly defend yourself from whatever it maybe your curled up into a ball, arms over your head. Your new wings instinctively moving to circled around you like a shield.

The door opened and someone walked in. “(Y/N)?” a soft voice called out.

‘Felix’ you thought, recognizing the voice but not moving. Instead you made a noise that was meant to be “here” but instead came out as more of a painful groan.

He moved towards you and could hear him in the space in-front of you.

“Barista, are you...” he pauses,”...let’s get you back into the bed.” still in the same tone of voice he used before. You made a weak noise in defiance, not wanting to go through the hassle of moving again. After the faint noise of Felix muttering something under his breath that wasn’t in the speaking language, you felt some of the weight lifted and almost thought that the wings had come off. you look up seeing a rather disheveled Felix; his glasses skewed and off center. He held both your arms and led you slowly back to the bed. You were wearing someone bed gown but the back was either cut or ripped open because you could feel the cold breeze much more easily on your back.

In the new mornings light you noticed that you wings were the same color as you hair but a but darker and much more silky and shiny looking. “Like one of those L’oreeel commercials.” stumbles out off your mouth. Felix stops and looks at you, probably confused but you aren’t looking at him, before bringing you to sit down on the bed. You leaned down slowly to lay back down again, this time on your side. The wings moving out to make a more comfortable position. Felix sat down and began to explain.

Most of the information was lost on you as you kept fading in and out of focus. But you understood that the magic book reacted to you being not of this world and having magic in a way that wasn’t at all anticipated.The wings somehow had to do with some history thingy that may or may not have happened before and maybe something else happened but you didn’t catch it. Some more things happened. Something else about Sage panicking in the corner when it happened and Anisa freaking out and yelling at Felix and something else. Guards maybe have came. Did he just say that they made you pretend you were a doll in the Earth stuff room when the guards came in looking for a leaf gremlin? That’s not right.

“And that about sums up what happened during the week you were, uh, developing a new, uh...” Felix looks at your new wings and the open flesh on your back,” wings.” He sighs a deep sigh. “(Y/N) are you hungry?” That would make sense since you haven't been able to eat in a while but you didn’t feel hungry. You wanted to move and change clothes. Maybe take a shower because the slime has gotten into weird places.

The next few weeks was basically you trying to relearn how to move. You learned that you have to lift your wings with your back muscles to make it easier to walk around normally. The giant baths now became very useful with all the extra space being very accommodating of your wings. The best you had ever felt during this entire period was when the four of you went outside, not long after you showered, and you opened your wings to the fullest. Really stretching them and fluffing them out. Hearing the awes of the people around you admiring your wings.

Later that day Felix and you had a little dinner date, if you will, on one of the higher balconies. He explained that your back had started to grow two lumps and slower grew. The way he described all the slime coating your wings reminded you of that one scene from the Matrix. You accidentally said that thought out loud which then resulted in you explained what the 2009 world was like, explaining technology, then getting into the movie itself. The entire time you were explaining to him about Earth he was looking at you, nodding and asking more specific questions every once in a while.

Once the group had gotten more used to your wings and making sure that they were healthy, everything began to lighten up. Sage would make cat vs bird jokes, Anisa would try to come up with ways to make life more comfortable, which then ended with you moving to another room with a bigger door ( it was closer to Felix’s so you didn’t complain).

The first time you tried to fly, he was so worried and had his spells ready to catch you ( which did help the first few times). Eventually you got it; not being able to go for long amounts of time but could glide. Everyday working out with Sage to get those wing muscles going so that you could launch yourself vertically from the ground.

Felix thinks its so cute when your wings also react with you, though he will never tell you. The way the puffed up, to make you look bigger, when he was around his father. Or when he would kiss you your wings would relax and touch the floor. When you are really excited they would do a ton of tiny flaps. Felix would love to clean your wings for you. They are massive and it does take a lot of time but this is something that he wants to do for you because he feels like it’s partially his fault.

Felix loved you wings. Hey thought they were so beautiful and made you a literal angel in his eyes. The way they shined in the sun was almost like how you would brighten his day with your laugh. If the two of you were sitting close he would either pet your wing(s) or even closer so you wings circle the two of you. The little privacy bubble was always welcome but also made him feel like it was more intimate. At some point you would hug him and the wings would then engulf the two of you; makes him feel so safe, wanted and loved. You quickly caught on to this and made sure to do it more often. Felix will sometime get overwhelmed in public and you would use your wings as dividers and creating a safer space away from whatever stimulated him. On warmer days you would create a cool breeze by gently flapping your wings. When people try to catch you for your wings he goes full ape shit on them because how dare they try to touch and harm his dear barista, his dear angel (Y/N)

“Your wings are beautiful (Y/N) “ he would say randomly one day.

“ Aww thank you Felix. I’m so happy you like them” you said while smiling at him.

Felix looked away, trying to hide his blush, and brought his book up closer to his face. He was tempted to look at you when he heard you softly giggle but restrained himself from doing so. The rest of the afternoon would be spent stealing secret looks from each other and smiling yourselves when one sees the other doing something cute.

A/N: I might make another lil’ story, a kind of part 2, depends how well this one does :)

MASTERLIST  < for more :D

[cuteboyfromtokyo]

ushijima, 8:14pm

"Is that good?" you ask quietly.

"Y-yeah, can you push a little harder, please," you hear Ushijima's muffled reply. You follow your boyfriend's instruction and apply a little more pressure to his shoulder blades.

Shiratorizawa's gym is quiet and empty at the late hour of 8pm. The training ended a little over two hours ago, and everyone left shortly after, only leaving Ushijima and you behind. Even Goshiki, poor little child, got too tired to stay after practice and left with Shirabu, waving both of you goodbye.

"I'll stay a little longer, I feel like my serves were off today," your boyfriend informed you, once the gym grew quiet. He handed you your backpack that you threw on a bench when you came to the practice. You didn't even bother telling him his serves were great - he never listened, and today wouldn't be any different. So you just nodded and cuffed your sleeves.

"I'll help you clean up," you said, taking the backpack from his hands and putting it back on the bench. You thanked yourself for completing the chemistry homework that's due tomorrow, in advance, and sent your mom a text saying you'll be coming home later. Wakatoshi nodded slightly, a quiet "Thanks" leaving his lips with a little, barely noticeable smile.

And now here you are, helping him with the post-practice stretch, pushing his back while he's sitting with his legs sprawled out, trying to reach as far as possible with his fingertips. Over the past two hours he practiced probably thousands of serves, spikes and receives ("Receives? You don't usually receive during the games, do you?" you asked, unsure. A simple response followed, sweeping all you further questions away: "I'm the ace, after all. I have to make sure I do my best at everything for my team". A little after a few seconds in silence he added "Besides, Goshiki seems to be trying to overtake me by his receives. I don't want to embarrass myself," looking away, slightly shy. You couldn't help but to chuckle).

"You're too gentle, y/n," he notices, laughing a little.

"I don't wanna hurt you," you whine, shifting in your knees a little to get better access. "You've worked so hard, what if I push you too much and you end up spraining your leg or something," you mumble in your excuse.

Ushijima laughs quietly again. "You won't hurt me. I'll tell you if it's too much."

"Okay," you sigh. You try again, this time pushing him harder, still being cautious. You get a satisfied grunt in response, and after you let him relax for a couple seconds, you go for the same amount of pressure. It requires you to use, probably, the entire strength of your upper body, but your boyfriend seems to be enjoying that, so you keep going.

"Yeah, like that," you hear his muffled voice, and you go for a couple final pushes before letting him rest.

"Are you sure that's not enough for today?" you whine again, moving your hands to hug him around his neck, and rest your chin on your arm, your cheek pressing against his. He chuckles quietly, and nods slightly.

"This might be enough for today," he brings up his hand to gently stroke your arm, and sighs deeply.

You think that a little cuddle session should be a good reward for his hard work, so you get comfy, shifting your position. Without unlocking your arms, you reposition your legs, sitting on your butt instead of your knees and circle your legs around his waist to basically lock him in place so he doesn't get a chance to change his mind and practice more. Wakatoshi rests his spare hand on your thigh, stroking the skin covered by thin fabric of your tights.

"I'm sorry for keeping you here for so long," he apologizes, his voice affected by heavy breathing.

You hum disagreeingly in response. "Don't apologize. I decided to stay with you, it's okay. I don't think I could have better time alone than with you anyway. We don't really get too much time just for ourselves, so I'm happy I got to spend two extra hours with you," you say, almost whispering, and smooch his cheek a couple times, reassuring him. A small smile appears on his face, as he nods again.

"Alright then. I'm happy to spend time with you, too. Thank you for helping me" he squeezes your forearm lightly and presses a light kiss to the skin. You melt at the touch and hug him a little tighter.

"We should get going soon. Your mom will get nervous," he noted, trying to move and stand up.

"Nooo, wait," you whine, pulling him back, pressing his back into your chest. "Just a couple more minutes, when's the last time we cuddled like that?"

Ushijima doesn't protest, instead relaxing into your grip and leaning back onto you. You rock side to side a little, and nuzzle your nose into his neck. He smells like the mix of sweat, deodorant and princess shampoo you bought him as a joke, and, as gross as it is, you find the scent comforting. 

He rests his head against your shoulder, eyes closed, breathing slowly, just as if sleeping. You observe the features of his tired face, the blush covering his cheeks and the tip of his nose, his fluttering eyelashes, the slightly chapped lips, and can't hold back the affection, so you press a kiss to his exposed neck. Another smile finds its way to his face, and he opens his eyes, looking at you with all the world's tenderness. You smile back at him, and he leans forward, pressing an ever so soft kiss to your lips.

You wish you could stay like that forever, tightly hugging your sweaty 6 foot 2 boyfriend, peppering his entire face with kisses and him squeezing your thighs, but your mom calls you for the third time this evening, not taking any of your excuses and ordering you to come back home as soon as humanly possible. You whine, hanging up, you boyfriend laughs, watching you complain like a child, and promises to take you on a date this weekend to spend another few hours by your side.

[sergeantsporks]

Nowhere Else to Go

Rating: Teen, Gen

Graphic depictions of violence, Major character death.

TW: Self-harm, mentioned child abuse, emotional manipulation

Chapter 1/4: Houseguest

The titan's plan wasn't some glorious purpose. Hunter found that out the hard way. And now there's not many places he can turn to.

Ao3

“I’m going to get more elixir.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

“I will be gone for a few hours.”

“Right.”

“You’ll be okay alone for a few hours?”

 Lilith looked up from where she was poring over a few of the ancient scrolls her mother had picked up trying to heal Eda—even if they were mostly hoaxes, there was likely a grain of truth in them. “Yes, Mom. I’m sure I can handle a few hours on my own.” Probably better than I do when you’re hovering over my shoulder.

Her mother paused at the door. “Love you, sweet flea.”

“Love you too, mom.”

And then she was gone. It was an… odd sensation, having her mother so worried about her. Caring so much. Lilith could almost understand why Eda had felt so smothered.

That didn’t mean it was a necessarily bad feeling. Just… different.

Lilith stretched and yawned, rubbing her eyes. Alright. Time to stop staring at bogus documents before she started needing to wear glasses all of the time again.

A knock at the door echoed through the silent house, and she frowned. No way that her mother was back yet. Lilith scribbled a few glyphs down  on scraps of paper and approached the door slowly, opening it with a jerk. The world tilted and dropped away beneath her.

Belos was at the door.

He’d come to finish her off—

What if her mother came home?!

“Lilith—” Belos started.

Lilith didn’t give him the chance to get any further. She slapped one of her light glyphs, squeezing her eyes shut as the flash went off, then went on the offensive, kicking Belos in the chest.

“I might not be the witch I used to be, but I am not powerless,” she hissed, sweeping his legs out from underneath him and tracing a quick ice glyph in the dirt to make shackles of ice that locked him in place.

“Wait!” Belos yelped, “It’s not—I’m not—Lilith, I’m not the emperor!”

“That is just about the worst ploy I’ve ever heard. Any last words before I rid the Boiling Isles of your rot?”

“You were the one who burned a shelf of library books because you were using wild magic!” he yelped in a very un-Belos-like voice.

It was an incredibly random detail to bring up, and filled her with a really ridiculous amount of annoyance given the situation she was in. “That brat! He promised he wouldn’t tell you!”

“I didn’t!” Belos protested, then after a second, “Hey, brat?! Really?!”

Waitasecond. Lilith squinted at him. “…Golden Guard?”

“Not anymore,” Belos replied sullenly.

Right. There was probably a reasonable explanation for this. “You… hit a growth spurt? And changed the outfit?”

He didn’t reply. Lilith heard something that sounded suspiciously like a sniff. “Are you… okay?” she ventured.

“NO, I’m NOT!” he burst, “Uncle Belos, he did—I don’t know, something, and now I’m stuck in his rotting body, and I… I don’t understand!”

A single tear rolled out from under Belos’ mask, and Lilith ripped the thing off.

Oh.

Oh, that was gross. Lilith stumbled back with a yelp. “What is that?!”

“Oh, what, like you turning into a great big owl monster is any better?” he retorted.

“Yes! Yes it is!” Lilith melted the ice shackles, squinting at him. “What… what happened?!”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, sitting up, “It’s a curse of some kind, but he never told me anything about it, I just…”

“No, wait, better question. Why did you come here?! We’ve never gotten along—what are you playing?”

He looked away, his hands balling Belos’ robes up into fists. “I… didn’t know where else to go.”

“My sister would have been a better bet,” Lilith said flatly, “She seems to be making a habit of collecting strays recently. Let’s see, misplaced demon king, human, bird worm—yes, I do believe a kid trapped in the body of her worst enemy would fit right in.”

“You think I didn’t consider that first? But I’m willing to bet that’s exactly where Belos will be going. If he plays the runaway card, your sister will be putty in his—or my, technically—hands. And I don't think they'd listen to me while I look like this.”

The momentary flare of hurt that Eda was, once again, the first choice, was almost immediately overturned with the thought of Belos sneaking into the owl house. Lilith ran for her mother’s crystal ball. “I’ve got to warn her!”

The golden guard hesitated in the doorway, watching her as she opened and slammed shut cabinets. She glanced at him. “What?!”

“Can I—you never answered—”

“What? Yes. Fine. Come in. Try not to get that weird face slime on the floor, my mother will freak.” Lilith tore through the cabinets. “Oh, come on! I know she has one! Hey, guard boy, help me look.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Lilith rolled her eyes, performing a smarmy little bow as she opened another drawer. “Oh, do lower thineself to help such a peasant as I, Golden Guard, sir.”

He scooted a little further into the house, checking under the couch. “Just Hunter. Please.”

Lilith paused, mid-slamming of a cabinet door. “That’s your name?”

“Of course it is!”

Of cOuRsE iT iS. Lilith finished slamming the cabinet shut. “Pardon me, but you never deigned to tell me! Or Kikimora!”

“The human never told you, though?”

“The hu—Luz? Oh, of course you told her. Sure. Why not? I suppose I’m always the last to know.” Lilith opened one last cabinet. “Oh, finally!” she pulled out the crystal ball. “Owl House. Edalyn Clawthorne.”

The ball went hazy, then re-asserted itself to a lovely view of Hooty’s face. “LULU!!!!!”

Despite the severity of the situation, despite the fact that Hunter-in-the-body-of-Belos was standing right there—hiding behind the couch, actually what was he doing there?—Lilith felt a smile creep over her face. “Hootcifer! Hey, the Golden Guard hasn’t shown his face around there, has he?”

“Bad but sad? Noooooope!”

“I resent that nickname,” Hunter muttered from his hiding spot.

“Okay. Good. I need you to make sure he doesn’t come in, and if Edalyn tries to bring him in… let him know exactly why it was so hard for me to capture my sister.”

“Okay! Any reason why?”

“Belos is up to something. I can’t tell you much over the crystal ball, I don’t know who’s watching. But the Golden Guard is part of it, and you can’t trust him. Don’t let him in, no matter what sob story he sells.”

“Got it, Lulu!”

The crystal ball faded to its usual blue color, and Lilith knelt on the couch, peering over the back at Hunter. “…What are you doing?”

“I’d think it was pretty obvious.”

Lilith thought she just might strangle this kid before the day was out. “Okay, fine. Why are you hiding behind the couch?”

“Because I look like Belos, and if they saw me here, they’d probably come swooping to your rescue.”

Lilith crossed her arms. “Maybe I’ll let them. So what if Belos was using you? He used all of us, you’re not special. At least I was trying to help my sister and fix the mistake I made. What’s your excuse?”

“I… don’t have one.”

“Wonderful.” Lilith grabbed the back of his robes, yanking him up to his feet. “Out. If Belos comes looking for you—”

Hunter grabbed her wrist, panicked. “Please don’t kick me out! I don’t…”

“Have anywhere else to go, I know.” Lilith twisted her arm out of his grasp. “Fine. Fine. Luckily for you, I’m trying to be a… better person.”

Hunter snorted.

“Do you want to stay here or not, brat?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Then stop acting like one! Belos told you that you were special, and you believed him. This body swap thing? That’s why you were special, okay, it wasn’t because you had some great purpose, you weren’t meant to save anyone, or make the world a better place or any of that, you were just the perfect vessel for him to stick his slimy soul in, so don’t act like you’re better than me, because you’re not.”

Hunter jerked back, his lip quivering. Lilith took in a deep breath. Okay. Maybe that had been a bit too far—she had to remind herself that this kid was Luz’s age, just about, and he hadn’t really had anyone but Belos. “Belos was… good at making people do what he wanted. He uses people and then throws them away. I know. I get it. I’ve been there. You don’t even realize what he’s doing until he’s already cast you aside. But you’re here now—you know what he’s like, you know what he does. Welcome to Belos’ garbage can, Hunter. You better get used to it here, because Belos isn’t taking you back.”

The door burst open. “Lilith, who are yelling a—”

Lilith whirled around to see her mother standing in the door. She dropped the sack she was carrying and summoned her staff. “YOU!”

“Mother, wait—”

Too late. Her mother practically flew across the room, delivering a flawless blow to Hunter’s gut. He stumbled back, tripping over Belos’ robes and landing on the floor. Lilith’s mother raised the staff again, bringing it down on his head.

“YOU! YOU HURT MY DAUGHTERS!” whack. “YOU HUNT THEM LIKE ANIMALS!” whack. “AND NOW YOU’RE BACK?!” wham. “YOU’RE NOT TAKING MY DAUGHTER AWAY AGAIN, YOU MONSTER!”

Lilith grabbed her mother’s staff before she could hit Hunter again. “Wait, Mother, it’s not what you think! It’s not Belos—it’s the Golden Guard!”

“Please stop hitting me!” Hunter yelped, his arm up to shield himself from any more blows.

“The… Sweet Flea, I’m not sure that’s any better.”

Lilith gently pried her mother’s fingers from her staff. “It’s… complicated, but he’s not working for Belos anymore. Long story short, he needs a place to stay for a bit, and… if it’s okay with you—”

“If it’s okay with you, Lilith, it’s okay with me. If you’re sure he’s not up to anything.”

Hunter’s hands twisting Belos’ robes as he told her he didn’t have anywhere else flashed through her mind, and she nodded. “I’m sure. He’s… just a kid. An annoying one, yes, but.”

“A kid,” her mother sighed, “When I find the real Belos…”

“I’m sure it’ll hurt,” Hunter squeaked from the floor.

“I do apologize for that.”

Lilith hauled Hunter back to his feet. “Alright, alright, let’s find somewhere for you to take a nap, you look awful.”

“I… don’t think a nap is going to fix this.”

Lilith’s mother sloshed a bottle of elixir in one hand. “No, but I know what might help!”

“I… I don’t know. If fixing this curse was that easy, I think Belos would have—”

Mrs. Clawthorn uncorked the bottle and shoved in his mouth while he was talking. “Who said anything about fixing it? Make it manageable, perhaps, if what Edalyn and Lilith have told me is true. Drink your potion and take a nap.”

“It can’t hurt,” Lilith said quietly, “I think.”

Hunter did drink the elixir, then spit the bottle out with a grimace. “Okay, that’s horrible.”

Lilith pulled him upstairs to… Eda’s old room. “Don’t touch her stuff,” she warned, “I’m going to see about getting you something else to wear, you keep tripping on those robes. You should fit into some of my dad’s clothes.”

“Okay. Uh… I… appreciate it, Lilith.”

Lilith froze halfway through the doorway. “Sure,” she managed, “Just… don’t sell me out to Belos.” She quickly shut the door. Her mother was waiting down the hallway.

“What is the story, Lilith?”

Lilith shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Hunter… he’s been in the Emperor’s Coven since he was a kid. No magic to speak of, but he could do impressive things with a staff. We… never really got along, that’s just the way it was there. We were always competing for Belos’ favor, at each other’s throats to stay on top. Belos… always said that Hunter was special, and that the titan had plans for him. Turns out… that plan was… to steal his body. It was never the Titan’s plan, it was always Belos, planning to get out of his own cursed body.”

“Is there a way to reverse it? To switch them back?”

“I don’t know. Hunter doesn’t seem to remember what happened—it might just be shock, though. Maybe he’ll remember more about what Belos did, and we can reverse this—but we’d probably need his body back, and I’m not sure we’ll be able to find Belos.”

“One problem at a time, Sweet Flea. Let’s focus on getting him settled in, first. How long do you think he’ll need to stay?”

Lilith crossed her arms. “Long enough for me to explain the situation to Edalyn, at least, at which point he’s probably going to ditch us for her.”

“Oh, Lilith. Don’t think like that.”

Lilith glanced back at Eda’s room, making sure the door was still closed. “Actually… I… I don’t think he has that much time left,” she said in a low voice, “Maybe Emperor Belos just was inconvenienced by the curse enough that he decided to make the switch. But… I’m thinking taking over Hunter’s body was an escape plan. For when he got close to… you know.”

Her mother gasped. “You think…”

Lilith folded her arms, hugging herself. “The elixir might hold it off. Give him more time. But… probably not enough time for us to reverse this.”

“We… we can’t just give up, can we?”

“I’m not going to give up,” Lilith promised, “I’ll keep looking. But… I’m just saying that it might be all we can do to make him comfortable before… before the curse finishes what it started and… Hunter dies.”

Ch 2

[szivtalan]

love is in the words unspoken

all these moments are golden,

forever is mine with you

the blossoming of the cherry trees always puts hawks in a strange mood. he thinks they’re romantic, magical - reminds him of a time when he was more naive, more dreamy, didn’t know much about the world. it’s nostalgic, to see the carpet of sakura petals on the streets, reminding him of what is and what could’ve been.

‘hawks!’

it’s ironic that he runs into endeavor’s child just as the flowers begin to fall.

‘hey, it’s todoroki.’ he grins, glancing at the two heroes behind the one already rushing up to him: deku and dynamight. ah yes, the three musketeers, as they call themselves. it’s nice to see the top three teaming up that way. ‘where’s the honorific though, kiddo? i’m still much older than you.’

‘not that much.’ shoto replies, and it feels like a shot to the heart. that’s right... they’re both in their twenties now. ‘and i figured i’d drop the honorifics now that i’m above you on the hero ranking list.’

the tilt of his head would be adorable if he weren’t such an asshole. tokoyami was right when he said that his youngest was different than endeavor - hawks only wished to see such a playful side of him.

‘the disrespect.’ hawks laughs, slapping shoto on the shoulder. he hits harder than what would be necessary, but the boy doesn’t even bat an eye. sturdy. and tall. holy shit, is he taller than hawks now? ‘anyway, i really don’t mind. are you guys patrolling around here?’

‘GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE HALF-AND-HALF, BEFORE I GO THERE AND BEAT IT!’ one youngster yells at them.

‘kacchan, don’t be so rude! he’s talking to hawks-san!’

‘friendly bunch.’ hawks snorts, and shoto just shakes his head with a smile.

‘they’re the best. i’m just trying to catch up.’ he admits, sounding sincere.

‘DON’T IGNORE ME, FUCKFACE!’

‘what are you doing around here anyway?’ shoto asks. ‘isn’t your office in a different city?’

‘yeah, i just came here to stretch my wings, take a walk.’ hawks says, ruffling his feathers a little for emphasis.

‘are you walking on your wings?’

‘n-no...?’

‘then how-’

‘WRAP IT UP NOW!’ at dynamight’s next shout, shoto visibly flinches. he seems more irritated than scared, at least to hawks.

‘i just wanted to thank you for helping my dad all those years ago.’ shoto says then, bowing his head a little. hawks takes it back, he doesn’t have an ounce of disrespect in his body. he’s just a little warped in the social area, and hawks has a fairly good guess where he gets that from. ‘i’ll be going now.’

‘wait, ah- how, how’s the old man?’ hawks tries to aim for anything but desperate. ‘i haven’t heard from him since the retirement.’

shoto looks at him thoughtfully, and those dual-colored eyes make hawks immeasurably nervous. he feels like he’s staring into his soul, opening up the secrets he’s got locked inside.

‘he’s well. i go home on weekends.’ shoto says, pulling up a notebook and a pen. ‘here’s the address. i think he’d appreciate the visit.’

the road to the todoroki estate was the most tiring one hawks had taken in a while. it’s not like it was far from where they met with shoto, but he spent the entire time worrying if he’s dressed well for the occasion, if he should just walk instead of flying to not get gross and sweaty - if endeavor will even let him in, or he’ll just pass by and get told off.

the house is huge, traditional, designed in classic enji taste. hawks could see the roof from a street away, almost walks into a lamppost while staring, his heart picking up the speed both from the scare and the nerves. his feet feel heavier with every step, walking down the street, finally getting to the gate-

and seeing todoroki enji, former number one hero, the feared endeavor sweep the walkway to his door, the scene way too casual to not send an already spring-up hawks into hysterics.

‘what the hell is that?’ hawks spits, laughter erupting from deep in his belly. the look on endeavor’s face just makes him shriek louder, his abs clenching with it. ‘is that- a fucking broom for ants, endeavor, you look so funny-’

‘can’t a man just do his chores in peace?!’ endeavor’s yelling now; sparks fly on his heated skin, and then they burst into flames.

‘now that’s the endeavor-san i know and love.’ he laughs, holding onto his own stomach, wiping his tears. endeavor’s face appears red under all that fire, he walks up to the gate to let him in.

‘what are you doing here, anyway?’ he mumbles, extinguishing himself as hawks walked in. he holds his broom under his armpit rather awkwardly, with the gracelessness of a man not quite used to doing the cleaning. hawks looks at him, observes: the slouch in his shoulders, the specks of grey in his stubble, the blush high on his cheek, the early wrinkles. he smiles to himself, reasons unknown, buried deep in a secluded part of his heart.

‘ran into your kid downtown, he said i should drop by and say hello.’ hawks lifts the nylon bags he’s been carrying, offers a lopsided grin. ‘i brought takeout.’

‘hmpft.’ endeavor is elaborate, as always. a man of few words and plenty actions, something hawks has always admired in him. ‘you can stay. only for the food.’

‘so you’re still very much hopeless in the kitchen, eh?’

‘don’t make me change my mind, brat!’

the house is huge on the inside, at least five bedrooms, two bathrooms, a big kitchen and dining room, and one living room all fit into one floor. all of it echoes from their steps, empty and lonely.

‘your boy said that he’s visiting you on weekend.’ hawks pries, shrugging his coat off as he hands over the bag. his fingers brush against endeavor’s fight-hardened, calloused ones and his heart feels like it could jump out of his chest again.

‘whenever he has the time. shoto’s a busy man.’ endeavor nods, his voice dripping with pride. hawks doesn’t need him to say any more to know how fond he is of his son. it makes him smile, actually. ‘why?’

‘and the rest of your family?’ he asks, a little more cautious.

‘i see rei and natsuo on holidays, and fuyumi usually spends her school breaks here.’ enji sets down the bag at the low table, grabs a pair of chopsticks from the dish rack. there are plates piled high there: it seems like he can clean up after himself, but refuses to put things away. hawks figures it’s pretty comfortable, considers that for a second before he realizes how much he can see into endeavor’s private life.

they sit down at the same time, and their eyes meet. ‘i’m not lonely.’ enji immediately turns defensive. there’s probably pity or sadness in hawks’ eyes, he wasn’t paying attention to his expression for a second.

‘i wasn’t suggesting you were.’

‘being alone is something i deserve. so i take my punishment with pride and strength.’ enji squares his shoulder, sitting up impossibly straight at his uncomfortable seat. he takes the boxes out, scatters them across the table for them to reach. no plates, though. ‘itadakimasu.’

they eat mostly in silence, warm, comfortable, and hawks can’t take his eyes off him. endeavor looks so casual, so approachable like this. he looks soft, in the slightly frayed sweatpants, a little weary from use, and the soft cotton shirt hugging his bulging muscles, stretching across his enormous shoulders. his face is a little thin, the wrinkles obvious on its unharmed half. from this close, hawks can see the grey hairs on his temple, too.

‘i’m looking for a place to stay.’ hawks announces once they’re finished eating. the look of surprise and something else - hope? no, it can’t be... - flashing across endeavor’s face startles him, but he’s not about to back down, now. ‘what-... ugh, how much do you think you’d rent out a room for?’

‘what?’ endeavor appears shell-shocked. ‘wh- why?’

‘well, because my apartment building is remodeling, and i’m pretty sick of living in the busier side of the city anyway. figured i’d change it up, move into the suburbs-’

‘that’s not what i’m asking.’ he snaps. ‘why me? don’t you have friends who’d let you stay with them?’

‘not anyone i’d like to move in with.’ hawks shrugs, playing with a few leftover grains of rice. ‘you know, i can cook, and i’m also willing to dry off and put away your damn dishes.’

‘hawks...’

‘c’mon, we can have sleepovers! i can braid your hair and you can braid mine. it will be fun!’

‘i can’t let you do that, hawks.’

‘okay, yes, i admit, your mane’s a little short for a proper french braid, but i can make do-’

‘hawks.’ enji’s voice booms. ‘no.’

‘you’ve known me for almost a decade, old man.’ hawks is talking back, suddenly fired up. ‘why won’t you just let me take care of you?’

‘because i’m a perfectly capable person who doesn’t need anyone to take care of them.’ he huffs, steam seeping from his nose. ‘and because i can’t let you do that to yourself.’

‘what, enji?’ he’s loud. is he shouting? he can’t tell.

‘waste your time on a bitter old man who isn’t worthy of you.’

now they’re pulling up the big guns. hawks deflates, props his head up on his elbows.

‘retired, but still on your self-deprecating bullshit.’ he sighs. ‘will you take it to the grave?’

‘hawks, i’m serious-’

‘and i’ve been serious, too. my entire life, about my feelings for you. you kept shaking me off, saying it wasn’t appropriate for someone your age dating someone so young, saying you were married, but all this time, i kept getting refused because you hate yourself too much to allow yourself to be loved?’

hawks doesn’t know when he stood up, but he’s falling to his knees beside enji now.

‘what kind of an asshole does that...?’ he whispers, staring right into enji’s fearful eyes.

‘an asshole who cares about you.’ enji murmurs, letting hawks hit him in the chest.

‘this isn’t “caring” about someone! this is just lying to yourself and keeping yourself from being happy!’ his fingers tangle in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

‘keigo-’ enji hisses, losing his balance and gripping the edge of the table so he doesn’t fall against the other man.

‘tell me no.’ hawks proposes, his free hand coming up to cradle his jaw, so prickly and manly and strong, the shudder that ripples through him from the gentle touch, making him so weak and vulnerable. ‘no more running away, enji, no more games. tell me no right now, and i won’t ever bother you again.’

endeavor furrows his brows, the skin around his scar pulling grotesquely over his face with the struggle. he takes a deep breath, and hawks gets goosebumps as the hot air from the exhale hits his skin.

‘i can’t...’ enji whispers, and hawks can barely hear over the sound of his heart shattering. he starts to let go, but he forgets to breathe and move altogether as enji leans in instead, hand coming up to hold him close by the back of his head. ‘i can’t say no, not anymore...’

the first touch of lips against his have his insides flutter, almost working him into a panicked frenzy. he can only hope that enji can’t feel his heart beating in his throat as he kisses him, deep and desperate and oh so careful. hawks clings into him, lets him chase him for a change, holds on for the ride.

when they separate, hawks feels dizzy, drunk with heat and pleasure. enji looks just about as much present, he seems dumbfounded.

‘well, uh.’ he says, and hawks would kick anyone who says he doesn’t have a way with words.

‘i can come on thursdays and fridays.’ he offers, for now. ‘that way your kids can still have you on weekends.’

‘thanks.’ that’s all endeavor says before he pushes a few stray strands of hair back from hawks’ face, leans in for another kiss.

it’s a date, then.

[visander]

A Christmas Miracle | Ao3. 

Magnus wasn't quite sure how he was going to spend his Christmas but struggling to close a rift in the middle of an icy hellscape as a sweet surprising shadowhunter offered him assistance wasn't quite what Magnus expected. 

This is my ‘Christmas Fic’ square for @shadowhunterbingo.

When Magnus imagined his Christmas plans, he’d thought that maybe he’d go visit Catarina and Ragnor. Maybe, he’d attend one of the various parties he’d been invited to. Maybe, he’d go to his own unofficial party in his club and he’d find someone to invite into his bed for the night. Really, he hadn’t had a solid plan yet. He never really did when it came to holidays. As a warlock, holidays came and went so quickly that none of them were very special and trying to plan something for an event that seemed to come and go so often was hard.

Christmas eve, Magnus still hadn’t known what he was going to do the next day but he had known what he wasn’t planning on doing and what Magnus had not been planning on doing Christmas day was chasing down a rogue warlock who was apparently dead set on summoning demons to wreak havoc on the world. Now, Magnus really didn’t understand why said warlock was determined to ruin such a lovely holiday but even beyond that, what really confused Magnus was why he personally had been tasked with containing the situation.

He was the High Warlock of Brooklyn and this snowy tundra that he had been sent to was not Brooklyn or even in the surrounding New York area. No, Magnus had been sent to the middle of godforsaken nowhere, to an area he had never been before and had no jurisdiction over, simply because he had made the unfortunate choice to answer the phone when he’d received a call from an unknown number.

What Magnus also hadn’t expected of his Christmas was the shadowhunters. Ideally, Magnus imagined his Christmas involving no shadowhunters at all but apparently, the world had decided to gift him a Christmas surprise in the from of a small band of shadowhunters, lurking in the woods around Magnus like he was stuck in a horror movie, fighting the stray demons that the warlock had managed to summon already.

Magnus, for his part, decided to stay as far away from the shadowhunters as he could. That was Magnus’ Christmas present to himself. He didn’t care if he was being rude. Magnus stayed away and ignored every effort they made at communication. They were there to fight demons. Magnus was there for a warlock. As far as Magnus was concerned, they had no reason to combine the two missions and for the most part, Magnus kept to that fairly well.

.

That is, until the end of the mission. Unfortunately for Magnus, towards the end of the mission, he found himself entangled with the same shadowhunters he’d set out to ignore. The warlock, apparently determined to ruin Magnus’ day even further, had made one last ditch effort to complete the summoning spell he’d already failed at countless times. This brought along a blast of magic that Magnus had felt shake the earth under his feet, effectively telling him exactly where he was supposed to go. This also alerted the shadowhunters, who met Magnus at the sight of the blast just when he walked up on it.

That meant that Magnus hadn’t had a second to assess the situation before he had shadowhunters up his ass, asking what he was going to do and how he was going to close the rift that had opened in the middle of the forest. Maybe, Magnus would have had an answer for them, if they’d shut up and given Magnus a moment to think.

Instead, they’d stood there and harped to him about the demons pouring through the rift, rather than you know, going to fight them like they were supposed to. Finally, Magnus had turned to snap and that’s when he’d looked at the shadowhunter that had come to bother him for the first time. The moment he did, he fell silent, any words dying on Magnus’ tongue.

The shadowhunter was beautiful. He was breathtaking even with dark hair, broad shoulders and a rune that Magnus would normally find distasteful placed in the spot on his neck that would put it at just the right angle for someone to suck on. Now, Magnus normally wasn’t one to let someone’s looks sweep any rational thought from his head, especially when it came to the gross danger shadowhunters brought but it was Christmas.

How could Magnus help but indulge himself? How could he see this opportunity as anything less than reparations from the Christmas gods in repayment for his horrible day? How could he see this as anything less than a gift? Sure, he was a shadowhunter but even a shadowhunter would look beautiful laying under him as they brought in Christmas Day the way the holiday was always meant to be celebrated - in pleasure.

Sure, Magnus also hadn’t hooked up with anyone in a very long time. If he took a step back and considered things rationally, that was probably a very big factor at play here. He was rather deprived at this point and it was Christmas. This shadowhunter was stunning and it was Christmas. Magnus was a weak man for a Christmas gift. He always had been.

The shadowhunter blinked, starting in nothing but confusion as Magnus thought all of this and said nothing to the questions the shadowhunter had posed a moment before, the ones that were all but lost to Magnus now.

Magnus blinked in return. He heard demons swarming around him, accompanied by the whirring noise of a rift breaking from their world to another. Right. It wasn’t just Christmas. Magnus had a job here, one that involved this shadowhunter, which Magnus was starting to see in a much more favorable light.

“Right,” Magnus started. He spoke confidently, despite not knowing what the shadowhunter had said while he was zoning out. He knew what Shadowhunters said anyway. He’d probably said something like, ‘Warlock! What are you going to do about these demons? Do you see the giant hole in the fabric of our reality? Are you going to do anything about that?’

They were ever so charming. Well, this one was. Magnus was hoping he’d manage not to ruin it when he opened his pretty mouth again. “I can close this rift easily,” Magnus waved his hand towards it dismissively. Truthfully, the rift was rather big. It would take a lot of effort, time and energy to close it but Magnus could close it. It would just… take a bit more effort than Magnus was letting on. Which is when Magnus realized he’d made a grave error trying to play the rift off like it was no big deal.

“Actually, I could use some help closing it if your friends can handle the other demons on their own?” Magnus raised an eyebrow. It was all a ruse to get the shadowhunter to stick by him but truthfully, the shadowhunter would be helpful. Magnus would be distracted closing a rift after all. He couldn’t bat demons away at the same time.

The shadowhunter blinked staring at Magnus in confusion before nodding suddenly as he seemed to realize that Magnus was asking for help. “Uh, yeah. I can help, Mr. Bane.”

Magnus stared. While he loved the sound of respect rolling off a shadowhunter’s tongue, ‘Mr. Bane’ was a little too formal for Magnus’ liking, especially considering what Magnus was hoping the shadowhunter would be into later in the evening, when all this mess was over.

“Magnus is fine,” he said quickly, “And you would be?” Magnus raised an eyebrow.

“Alec,” the shadowhunter said. His hand shot out for Magnus’, a reflective gesture that Magnus found amusing amidst this chaos.

Magnus reached for his hand and he couldn’t help but smile as their skin touched. Maybe it was the Christmas magic in the air or maybe Magnus was just fooling himself but he was sure there was a spark.

It would be a Christmas miracle if Alec felt it too. Truthfully, Magnus was pretty sure he was letting himself get swept up in a fantasy where a beautiful shadowhunter would not cringe at the thought of sleeping with him but hey, it was Christmas. Magnus could indulge his most unrealistic fantasies for the night, especially when the alternative was that Magnus was alone on Christmas, surrounded by demons and shadowhunters alike.

Magnus tried not to lament too deeply on the fact that he’d resorted to this to make his evening seem more promising.

.

Only a half an hour later, Magnus found himself in an even worse situation than he had before. Alec had graciously followed Magnus and guarded him while he attempted to close the rift that was currently scattering demons all over the woods.

All was going well, except for the fact that this rift was tricky. Some were harder to close than others. It depended on what word they’d open to. The most common rifts opened into Edom, their nearest demonic realm. Rifts to Edom were easy to open and therefore, rather easy to close. Other demonic realms could be tricker. They were harder to open and much harder to close.

Magnus had assumed this was a rift to Edom. He’d assumed based on the fact that the warlock who’d been determined to cause this distraction was thought to be rather young. Magnus had apparently been wrong. This rift was not open to Edom. Magnus didn’t know what world it was open to but Magnus did know that it was a hell of a lot harder to close than Magnus had expected it would be, even considering its size.

By the time that Magnus had the rift even a couple of feet smaller than it was originally, Magnus could feel himself wavering on his feet. He could do this. He knew he could. He had to do this. There wasn’t another warlock available to help, excluding the warlock who’d caused this and was probably miles and miles away by now.

Magnus had to close it but just then, he wasn’t sure that he could and it was almost as soon as Magnus thought this that the beautiful shadowhunter who he’d last seen darting around, shooting any demons who dared to threaten to come close to Magnus, was suddenly there. Alec held his hand out, his eyes wide and panicked.

Magnus froze. His hands were raised, holding the rift in place. He wasn’t closing it exactly. He wasn’t sure if he had the energy to try that again but he was at least holding it there, so that it wouldn’t erase all of his progress and pop back open. He’d just been about to figure out how the hell he was going to handle this and now, he didn’t know how this shadowhunter fit into that.

He wanted the shadowhunters' attention but not now. Now, it seemed a little more than disruptive.

The shadowhunter thrust his hand forward even further and when Magnus still failed to move, the shadowhunter slipped his hand into Magnus’ own. Beside himself, beside the situation before him, Alec’s hand was warm and Magnus’ fingers curled around him.

The other shadowhunters had moved closer and were now fighting off the demons that strayed too close, protecting them both so this shadowhunter could come over and… hold Magnus’ hand?

“Take it,” Alec said insistently. “My strength. It’s yours. Take what you need.”

Magnus blinked again. For a brief second, he had a moment of wondering just what Christmas miracle Magnus had found thrust at him to find a shadowhunter like this who was not only beautiful but willing to share his strength with Magnus, a warlock, when he needed it.

Magnus’ fingers tightened in Alec’s own. He didn’t have another second to contemplate it. Demons were pouring out. There was a rift. Magnus pulled strength from Alec’s hand and he didn’t have a second to look over and watch to see if the shadowhunter flinched at the feeling of a warlock draining him.

A minute later, the rift was closed. A few seconds after that, Magnus’ hand relaxed and then, Magnus’ entire body went slack. Another moment after that, Magnus felt himself teetering backwards and falling limp as the entire world went dark.

Magnus thought he felt arms grabbing at him but he passed out before he felt if he hit the ground or if his savior did manage to grab him.

.

Magnus woke up in one of his least favorite places: An Institute. Magnus wasn’t exactly sure which Institute he was in but it was dark and apparently, they couldn’t invest in decent heaters because it was freezing.

Magnus had been about to throw himself out of the bed, find the exit and then, somehow find his way home when he realized that he was in fact not alone. There was a shadowhunter sitting in the chair next to him and when Magnus blinked past his bleary eyes and looked closer, he saw that it was in fact his beautiful handsome shadowhunter from earlier - Alec, he’d said his name was.

Magnus leaned closer to look but when the man’s eyes snapped open and darted up to him, Magnus suddenly sat back.

“Mr. Bane,” Alec rushed out. His cheeks darkened and he seemed incredibly embarrassed to have been caught not only waiting next to Magnus’ bed but asleep. “You’re alright. Do you need anything?”

Magnus blinked and slowly leaned back into the very uncomfortable pillows that the Institute’s infirmary provided. This was a lot for Magnus to be dealing with all in a matter of a few minutes after passing out closing a rift on Christmas. “The warlock-” Magnus managed at last.

He had a lot that he wanted to say just then but his job was at the forefront of his mind. It had been his job to close the rift and capture the warlock. He’d only done the first half.

“Has been taken in and contained,” the shadowhunter reported diligently.

Magnus nodded, closing his eyes to try and ease back the throbbing that he was suddenly aware of in his temples. It was a familiar feeling that came when he used too much magic. He wasn’t thrilled, knowing the feeling would remain for at least the next twelve hours.

“You never gave me your last name,” Magnus said when he finally opened his eyes again.

The shadowhunter flushed, looking again embarrassed. Magnus almost smiled at the sight of it. He might have, if he hadn’t been feeling so weak. It was rare to find a shadowhunter so easily flustered. It was rare to find a shadowhunter like the one before Magnus in general.

“Alec,” the man hushed, though Magnus already knew that. He still looked quite embarrassed. Magnus thought it was adorable. “Alec Lightwood,” the man continued at last.

At that, Magnus’ eyes went wide. He couldn’t help the way that his spine straightened and he sat up a little taller in the bed.

Alec ducked his head, looking away instantly.

“You’re a long way from home, Lightwood,” Magnus cooed. His tone wasn’t exceptionally kind. He couldn’t help it. He had his prejudices just as well as anyone else. The Lightwoods were absolutely one of them and Magnus thought he’d earned that judgement, considering what he’d seen Alexander’s parents do.

Alec sat up a little straighter himself. His hands folded politely in his lap. “I decided to travel for a few years,” Alec said simply.

He didn’t seem inclined to provide more information but Magnus was never one to leave things alone.

“Needed some space from Mother Lightwood?” Magnus quipped.

He was kidding but Alec’s jaw tightened anyway. After a moment, he shifted and nodded stiffly. “I found out my parents were in the Circle last year. I decided to take some time away.” Alec fell silent but he didn’t remain silent for very long. His eyes flicked up to Magnus’ own again. “‘I’m sure you can understand that. I know you had a lot of encounters with the Circle when they were active.”

Magnus thought that ‘encounters’ was putting it a bit lightly but it would be picking at syntax to say so. Instead, Magnus said nothing for a long moment and Alec didn’t seem inclined to break the silence either. Magnus had just woken up. His brain was still foggy and this… well, this was even more unexpected than anything else Alec Lightwood had done thus far.

Part of Magnus thought this must be a facade. Truly, no shadowhunter could act like this and mean all of it. It was just too odd but subtly so. This could be who Alec was and yet, Magnus felt like he’d walked into a trap anyway. Shadowhunters didn’t care about what the Circle had done. Shadowhunters didn’t care if a warlock was struggling to close a rift. Shadowhunters didn’t sit by a warlock's bedside and wait for them to wake up.

Magnus had liked him. He’d thought he was handsome but it was a fun little fantasy.

He had not truly expected Alec to have a soft and kind personality to go along with his pretty Lightwood face, not even on Christmas.

“Why were you waiting by my bedside, Alec?”

Alec frowned, his hands suddenly twisting nervously in his lap. “You passed out. I carried you back because I didn’t want to leave you. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” Alec moved suddenly like he was going to stand and flee. “I’m sorry. Maybe, I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s Christmas,” Magnus said in lieu of responding.

Alec stilled and looked up at him confused until Magnus kept speaking.

“You found what your parents did to be so distasteful that you’re in the middle of nowhere at an isolated cold Institute on Christmas instead of spending time with your family?”

Alec frowned uncomfortably and then nodded anyway. “Yes. I wasn’t exactly invited back anyway, after what I had to say when I left.”

Magnus held Alec’s eyes for a long moment before he pulled the blanket from his lap and swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand. His joints and his muscles ached. His magic was screaming at him for stretching it so far. Magnus turned back to Alec and raised an eyebrow.

“Well, would you like to come have a drink with me, Alec? Perhaps in a place that doesn’t run an average of thirty degrees?” Magnus swung his arms wide across the empty infirmary they were in. “Unless you have some better plan for Christmas.”

Alec’s eyes widened and when he seemed to realize that Magnus was serious, he nodded frantically. “No, I don’t uh- I mean, I’m not doing anything and it is cold here.” Alec’s mouth snapped shut and his cheeks flushed red yet again. “I would like a drink,” he blurted out. “Somewhere warm would be pleasant.”

Magnus hummed softly and when Alec finally rose to his feet, Magnus reached his hand out for Alec’s own.

Alec looked exceptionally confused but he complied easily, slipping his hand into Magnus’. He clearly didn’t know what Magnus had intended and the fact that he’d given Magnus his hand anyway made Magnus laugh softly.

“I could use a bit of that strength again, unless you’d prefer to be stuck here.”

Alec nodded quickly. “Oh. Of course, take it,” he insisted.

Magnus paused, staring at Alec yet again. He didn’t think he’d ever get over a shadowhunter who was so eager to let a warlock use their energy. He’d tell Alec that later or perhaps, he’d just keep it to himself. Magnus wasn’t sure but he did know one thing. He was starting to think that Alec just might be his Christmas miracle and there was no way in hell he’d say that aloud, no matter how many drinks he’d need after a night like this.

Magnus opened a portal with Alec’s hand tight in his own and he tried not to think too deeply about where this could be going as they both stepped through together and landed in Magnus’ warm loft on the other side. A kind and beautiful Lightwood? It was a Christmas miracle indeed.

[stiltonbasket]

but ALSO okay so first of all thank you so much for the ficlets so far they are Adorable and i love them so much. second of all i am so glad you opened prompts again bcuz. i have. smth ive been wanting to read for a WHILE. so. prompt: junior generation post-canon, they all have super high standards for romantic partners cuz they spend time with Super Lovey Dovey WangXian. not like jiang cheng's List but smth a la Tenille Arts's Somebody Like That iykwim

i hope its not too late to insert a detail to my prompt!!! (i ran outta chara space in the og prompt message and then forgot ^^" ) but theres just one thing!! i really wanna see!!!! in the wangxian spoiling each other bit!!!!! (and the juniors being all That is Love Why Should We Settle For Less) -- i want lan zhan walkin around at one point with his hair in a braid and flowers braided in!!! and if asked he gets all soft and looks at it and is like "wei ying did it" ahhh i love the image <3

can anybody find me (somebody to love)

by stiltonbasket

“Wei-qianbei, we’re getting old enough to go courting now,” Jingyi says eagerly; but he’s a horrible liar who lies, because he and Sizhui are only nineteen, and Jin Ling doesn’t come of age until early winter. “What do you think we should put on our list of requirements?” 

(Or, the one where Jin Rulan visits the Cloud Recesses, contemplates his love life, and gets a new point of view on the Lan sect's taxation policy.)

Jin Ling is seventeen the year his dajiu marries Hanguang-jun, and finally gives Jin Ling the right to call Lan Sizhui his cousin. Sizhui’s always been his cousin, of course—they’ve been cousins since Jin Ling was born, even if neither of them knew it—but he couldn’t say so, because that would mean telling everyone that Sizhui was born a Wen. And telling everyone that Sizhui was a Wen would lead to terrible things, so Jin Ling keeps his mouth shut until after his dajiu’s wedding.

“You could just say that he was born to us during the Sunshot Campaign!” Wei Wuxian laughed, when he finally heard why Jin Ling wanted him to hurry up and take his three bows with Hanguang-jun. “Half the cultivation world already thinks he’s ours, anyway.”

But regardless of whether he could call Sizhui his biao-ge in public, Sizhui is first and foremost a very dear friend; and so are Lan Jingyi and A-Qing and Ouyang Zizhen, though Jin Ling’s best friend is probably Zizhen, just like Sizhui’s is Jingyi. He visits them in Gusu as often as he can, since all of them save Zizhen live there, and even Zizhen hangs around the Cloud Recesses more often than not. 

“Don’t you have a clan of your own?” Jin Ling frowns, when he visits his dajiu around midsummer to find the younger boy eating xiaolongbao in the jingshi’s new kitchen. “How come you’re still here, A-Zhen? The lectures ended weeks ago!”

“I’m almost sixteen,” Zizhen yawns, reaching for a shallow dish of black vinegar and soaking a salted mushroom in it. “Father says I’m old enough to go where I like, and Lan-xiansheng said I could keep studying with the Lan disciples as long as I stayed.”

“You’re just here for the food,” grumbles Jin Ling. His dajiu is a good cook when he doesn’t cover everything in chili peppers, and Jiujiu once told him in confidence that Wei-dajiu’s food was the closest Jin Ling would ever get to having his mother’s. But a steaming plate of xiaolongbao lands in front of Jin Ling before he can really start thinking about that, and then his baby cousin crawls into his lap and steals one of the soup dumplings.

“Ling-gege pays taxes,” three-year-old Lan Yu says serenely, poking a hole in the xiaolongbao and sucking out the broth. “Xiao-Yu can have one more?”

“Taxes?” Jin Ling stares at him. “What in the world does he mean?”

Wei Wuxian laughs and comes back over to give him another succulent soup dumpling to replace the one Xiao-Yu stole. “He’s pretending to be the sect leader,” he explains, ruffling Jin Ling’s hair on his way back to the stove. “And he found out about tax management this morning, since Lan Zhan and Xichen-ge are thinking about lifting the luxury tax on goods from some of the minor sects. But A-Yu thinks taxes are presents for the sect leader, so…”

“One more bao tax for xiao-Lan-zongzhu!” Xiao-Yu says imperiously, holding out his chubby hands. “Ling-gege give, please?”

“That is not polite, Xiao-Yu,” Hanguang-jun scolds, sweeping into the kitchen with A-Yuan and Jingyi behind him and A-Qing bringing up the rear. He lifts Xiao-Yu into his arms and sits him down on the bench next to Zizhen, and then he reaches up for a stack of patterned bowls and passes them around to the others. 

Jin Ling still hasn’t gotten used to eating at the Chief Cultivator’s table, even if Hanguang-jun is technically his uncle now. Sometimes Hanguang-jun even does the cooking, and feeds Wei-dajiu with his own chopsticks while everyone else watches, and then Jin Ling tries to choke himself to death on the bamboo shoots in his yan du xian before deciding that Lanling can’t afford to lose the first decent zongzhu it’s had since his great-grandfather’s time. 

“I wish I was married,” Ouyang Zizhen sighs dreamily, resting his cheek on his hand as Xiao-Yu tries to steal his dumplings next. On his other side, A-Qing’s cheeks flush crimson, and she stares resolutely down at her hands while Hanguang-jun offers her a plate of savory vegetables. “It looks so nice, Wei-qianbei.”

“It is nice,” Wei-dajiui winks—and oh, gross, because Hanguang-jun is blushing now, and staring at Wei Wuxian as if he’s the most amazing thing in the world. “Marrying Lan Zhan is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Mm,” Hanguang-jun says quietly, putting a heaping spoonful of potato congee into his husband’s bowl. “Wei Ying is the best thing that happened to me, too.”

Ouyang Zizhen wails. 

“Wei-qianbei, we’re getting old enough to go courting now,” Jingyi says eagerly; but he’s a horrible liar who lies, because he and Sizhui are only nineteen, and Jin Ling doesn’t come of age until early winter. “What do you think we should put on our list of requirements?”

“What, you want an arranged marriage?” Wei-dajiu frowns. “ I never went through the process myself—” and Hanguang-jun reaches out and squeezes Wei-dajiu’s waist, as if even thinking about Wei-dajiu seeing a matchmaker was too much— “and I don’t really know anyone who did, since Yunmeng’s a lot freer about these things. Are you sure, Jingyi?”

“I’m not asking for a matchmaker,” Jingyi says, tossing his long ponytail over his shoulder. “I want to know what to look for if my love of a lifetime comes along. So what were you looking for?”

“Nothing when I was your age, A-Yi. I thought I would spend my whole life at Lotus Pier, and marry one of the shijies or shimeis who liked me. But then I met Lan Zhan, and…”

And then his ideal became Hanguang-jun, Jin Ling finishes, chewing on a mouthful of mustard greens. Everyone knows that, Jingyi!

Unfortunately, the conversation doesn’t end there. It goes on for the better part of an hour, and all through the course of coconut pudding Hanguang-jun made for dessert, and Jin Ling can’t even leave because that would be rude, and the food is too good to pass up even if Ouyang Zizhen wants to ask about kissing now.

“How old is old enough to have your first kiss?” he inquires, while Lan Sizhui giggles into his hands and elbows Zizhen to make him stop. “I’m sixteen, so is that too young?”

“I was thirty-eight when I first kissed Wei Ying,” Hanguang-jun says dryly. “I would advise patience, unless Ouyang-gongzi already has a beloved one in mind.”

Jin Ling wants to die. Why is his extended family like this?

“Pudding tax,” Xiao-Yu announces from his lap. “Ling-gege, can A-Yu have a bite?”

“I’m Sect Leader Jin, though. I don’t have to pay you taxes.”

Xiao-Yu gives him a serious little nod before turning to Sizhui. “Yuan-gege, pay pudding taxes.”

“You’ve had enough pudding,” Sizhui scolds; and indeed, the dishes are mostly empty now, except for the serving bowls in the middle of the table. “Come on, A-Yu. Let’s go visit the rabbits.”

They end up at the rabbit field about ten minutes later, after Jingyi and Sizhui help Hanguang-jun with the dishes. Jin Ling thinks it must make a very strange picture: after all, one doesn’t often see three Lan juniors, one Ouyang sect heir, one Jin sect leader, and one Lan baby lying in the grass with bunnies climbing over them. But the peace and quiet is beautifully welcome after the political unrest in Lanling and the dog food in Wei-dajiu’s tiny kitchen, so Jin Ling closes his eyes and settles down for a nap with a small white rabbit on his chest. 

“I think Shufu was right,” he hears A-Qing say. “There’s no point in having a list of requirements. Look at what happened to Jiang-zongzhu.”

“His first list was terrible, though,” Zizhen objects. “And he’s going to be married by next spring, so it worked for him in the end. After he fixed his requirements, I mean.”

“Gossipping is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses,” Sizhui says tranquilly. “And what Father meant was that having a list means you might miss your fated one when they come along, so it’s best to think about what you want, instead of what your beloved should be.”

“I’d like it if my wife liked to eat my cooking,” sighs Zizhen—he’s an excellent cook, too, and Jin Ling knows for a fact that A-Qing’s favorite food is the shrimp and water spinach Zizhen’s mother taught him to make. “Then I could cook, and she could wash our children’s hands and bring them to the kitchen when I was done, and we would all eat together.”

“I think I’d like a husband who knew how to do my hair,” A-Qing says, not even trying to be subtle. Jin Ling has seen the combs Zizhen keeps giving her, even if they’re far too young for a courtship, and Zizhen is always the first to offer assistance whenever A-Qing’s hair falls out of its bun. “Even a plain bun is too hard for me, since my hair’s so bushy.”

Zizhen nearly drops his rabbit. “Oh,” he whispers, blushing so hard that his neck turns red. “That’s good!”

Jin Ling wants to die. He can’t stand visiting Lotus Pier because his jiujiu is obviously courting, even if he won’t say he is, and now he’s going to have to watch A-Qing and Zizhen flirt until Zewu-jun and Ouyang-zongzhu give them permission to get married. 

“What about you, Jingyi?”

“Huh? Oh, I want to marry someone who won’t mind how loud I am,” Jingyi shrugs. “Or someone even louder than me, so we can make trouble together. A-Yuan?”

“I haven’t really thought about it, actually,” Sizhui sighs. “I’m Zewu-jun’s heir, so I have to get married, but I’m not sure if I want to.”

A moment of silence. 

“Then you won’t have to,” Jin Ling says. Everyone stares at him. “Zewu-jun didn’t get married, and Hanguang-jun wouldn’t have if Wei-dajiu didn’t come back to life. You can just choose an heir born to one of your cousins, since Jingyi was going to inherit the sect before Hanguang-jun adopted you.”

The others swoop in to assure Sizhui that no one’s going to make him get married, and Jin Ling folds his arms behind his head and wonders if his biao-ge could possibly be like Zewu-jun: a yi xin yi shen, whole in heart and body, who eschewed marriage in favor of cultivation. It would explain a lot, Jin Ling thinks, because even he knows what it feels like when someone makes his heart beat fast and his face turn pink, and Sizhui’s never felt that way. 

(Jin Ling tries not to think of Nie-zongzhu’s hot-tempered archivist, who knocked him into the dust with her saber the last time he visited Qinghe and then told him he had pretty eyes. Nie Shiyong is a few years older than him, and he usually ends up nursing several new bruises each time he meets her, but Jin Ling is man enough to admit to himself that he likes her. Maybe.)

“Xiao-Yu is sleepy,” little A-Yu says, interrupting his embarrassing train of thought before it can go any further. “Yuan-gege, I have a nap?”

“You can just sleep here,” Jingyi suggests. “The grass is soft enough, right? And you can use one of us for a pillow.”

“Jingyi,” Sizhui chides, and Jin Ling hears the long grass rustling as his cousin gets to his feet. “Come on, A-Yu. I’ll take you home to A-Niang.”

“No need,” someone else says; and that’s Hanguang-jun’s voice, coming up the hill from the direction of the jingshi. “I am here. A-Yu, come.”

Jin Ling scrambles up to greet his uncle by marriage (sect leader or not, jiujiu would kill him if he greeted the Chief Cultivator from the ground) and then he reels back and blinks in surprise, because Hanguang-jun’s hair is up in a loose braid instead of a half-topknot, and somebody seems to have decorated the braid with a row of half-bloomed lotus flowers. 

“Wei Ying did it,” Hanguang-jun says, with a small, soft smile that makes Sizhui and the others gasp. “He will do the same for your hair, too, if you ask.”

And then he lifts Xiao-Yu up into his arms and carries him away, leaving Jin Ling still frozen mid-bow with Jingyi and Zizhen gaping behind him.

“I think what Hanguang-jun meant is that the first requirement for marriage is love,” Lan Sizhui remarks, when Jin Ling finally snaps his mouth shut. “And that no matter what we want, or think we want, we shouldn’t settle for less.”

(Jin Ling is the first of his friends to marry, and he never forgets his biao-ge’s advice until the end of his days.)