#like it can be resolved by just a good old conversation

[thatoneanonymoussnake]

THIS!! This fact had always clinged on me like a plague whenever I saw anything sunset duo related, dispite being a (kinda?) well known fact in the fandom that they use to be close, there is barely anyone talking about this duo and how their relationship can rebuild and GROW, ya know?

So to see a skilled artists talking about them genuinely makes me so happy, you are a legend mate (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

theres something about the way raph and mikey used to be closer when they were younger that really gets to me (with how raph either parentified himself or got parentified by his brothers, and mikey whos the baby of the family really wants independence) and i like to think there was a point in their lives maybe post movie where they sort of realized they've grown past that stage and really appreciate each other as brothers and equals who can support each other

sometimes youre close when youre little and grow apart. and sometimes you find each other again.

idk, siblings, you know?

[sparxemberflame]

God damn it.

No matter how much I try not to I'm still here. Over three years and I'm still here.

Waiting. Whispering desperately to myself the truths and apologies and forgiveness and thank yous that I cannot give to you since you closed the door.

All the closure I've wanted for over three years now is to tell you I'm sorry, ask to be allowed to show the effort and change I've done, tell you you are forgiven for everything and thank you So Much for the honor it was to be your friend and partner.

That and to give you any and all closure you want as well. If I could just do that it'd finally be out of my goddamn head. Instead I keep repeating. Like a mantra, like a prayer. Hoping against hope I'll one day get to say it. And get to say it right.

I hope you don't have any thoughts like this. I wish all the best for you and hope that moving on has been easy. Somehow, despite it all. But fuck dude do I miss you. And boy do I wanna learn and meet who you've become.

But you don't even want to speak to me. That's alright. If all I can do for you is stay away. If all I can do is wait without expectation that the waiting will ever be rewarded. Then I'll do that. I can do that much at least.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Delicate

Homelander x F! Reader

Summary: You and Homelander have been official for a while now, but you have yet to understand why things never went beyond a certain line.

Warnings: slight angst, slight manhandling, somnophilia, masturbation, explicit smut, praise kink, dirty talk, oral sex

A/N: not proofread as always bc I cringe at my own writing. take it or leave it

Homelander had never learned how to be gentle.

Of course he knew how to touch someone without breaking them if necessary, but there's limits to his self-restraint. Especially when it came to the intimate kind of encounter.

This sadistic side of his was an expression of his desperate need for control, an inability to truly let himself fall and be vulnerable with another person.

For decades his mantra was that normal humans only exist for supes' - and mostly his - entertainment. Your weakness was his thrill, the sheer difference in power so ridiculously high that you might as well be filthy bugs - and Homelander was like a cruel child with a magnifying glass.

Usually his mates were supes themselves and even they could barely handle his violent urges, but you are a mere human. So fragile and precious that it terrified him at times.

What if he loses control in the heat of the moment? What if he breaks you? Or even worse: What if you see him for the monster he really is and run away like everyone eventually does?

A while ago Homelander heard the story about Ice Princess' fling, some Vought employee nobody. She accidentally froze his penis off during climax. Hilarious, honestly. The first time he heard this story he had a very good laugh, and he still can't look that guy in the eye without cackling when he passes him in the hallways.

But now, being romantically involved with one of those weaklings himself, the possibility of something similar happening to you made his stomach turn...

...but of course, as Homelander always does, he chose to ignore the problem at hand instead of addressing it.

Why bother with an unpleasant conversation if he can just prolong this innocent, chaste bond for as long as possible? He'd rather have you like this than unnecessarily putting you into harm's way.

You on the other hand slowly but steadily grew impatient with your boyfriend.

At first you thought he was merely being chivalrous, but it's been three months and still nothing. He's famous, so you had involuntarily learned about his past affairs - and he's definetly not old-fashioned.

Then why is he hesitating so much?

Most of the time you don't dare talking about what's bothering you, simply because any issue of yours seemed so insignificant compared to the horrible things John's been through.

Admittedly, he once literally lasered a guy's head into mush just for throwing a can to his son's head. So while his reactions can be a bit unpredictable, John cares so deeply about the few people he loves that you want to spare him any more trouble.

Unhealthy way of handling things, admittedly.

Last week you had planned it all out: What you could only describe as the perfect date was supposed to continue in his apartment, and you could literally see all blood flow from his brain to nether regions as you entered the bedroom in finest lingerie.

Anyways, you had initiated several times up until now, and initially he'd always go along with it. However as soon as your make-out-sessions turn more heated, he'd abruptly end them and practically storm off.

Everything went so well at first, with you straddling his waist and tentatively grinding against his lap. His hands moved against his will as his resolve crumbled, finding the curves of your body and relishing in the feeling of your exposed skin under his gloves. His jaw clenched as he fought the urge to go all out, fearing dangerous consequences.

A proper dosage of pain can function as aphrodisiac, at least in your opinion. So you didn't tell him to stop, in fact your senses were too clouded by desire to even notice the way his fingers dug into the cushion of your hips.

Yet there was just the tiniest microexpression, just the fraction of a second where your heart sped up and your face contorted in pain...

...and Homelander, shocked with himself, threw you so frantically off of his lap, you landed face firsr on the floor instead of the bed.

Against all reasoning, you laughed hysterically at his not-so-subtle rejection, and god knows you'll tease him about it until forever. But also, understandably, on the inside you were as hurt and confused as never before.

Doesn't make it any better that your boyfriend had been avoiding you like you were the goddamn pest ever since.

Just like today, when Homelander comes home to you way past midnight, double checking with his x-ray-vision whether you were already fast asleep.

John was aware that this topic has been tormenting you for a while now, and while he never intended to hurt you - quite the opposite, really - he also clung to this pleasant illusion he had created with you.

Lucky at cards, unlucky in love, or so they say.

The course of his life had convinced him that all remotely good things happening to him will be taken away again. A farce prepared by destiny itself just to mock him, maybe evening out the scales since he had been blessed with too much power.

On days as shitty as this one however, nothing compares to having someone to come home to - even when he made sure that you weren't awake to confront him. He tosses his boots aside, grateful for you to be a sound sleeper as they fell to the floor with a loud thump.

Your boyfriend's heart sinks as he pulls up the blanket, being greeted by a handprint-shaped bruise on the side of your hip. Seems like it still hurts too much to sleep on that side. His fingertips run over the dark purple-ish mark, a pained groan escaping your throat when he gives in to the temptation to squeeze your ass.

He really is the worst.

Homelander freezes until he's certain you continue sleeping undisturbed, the sound of his own heart hammering against his chest drowning out all other noise. His palm is still lingering on your body, running up and down your sides and earning relieved sighs in return.

Before you'd feel his excitement too much, he manages to tear his body away from you, his erection twitching painfully as he rolled onto his back.

John really had pure intentions when he embraced you from behind, simply wanting to distract himself and fall asleep while cradling you in his arms - yet instead his already hard cock buries itself neatly between your thighs, the friction making him utter vile things.

Damn it Y/N, why the fuck do you always sleep in underwear only?! Is it to taunt him or to test his limits? Because it's working.

A breathy moan escapes his lips as he spread his legs wide, cock already leaking precum when he ran his thumb across the slid. He grabs it fiercely, pumping hard to make quick work of it, while roaming every inch of your skin he can get his other free hand on.

"Need some help with that?"

Shit.

ShitshitshitshitSHIT!

Seems like he was a little too busy with getting off - so much that even his heightened senses didn't catch you waking up to this scene. Your boyfriend had a habit of sleeping naked, so right now there was none of what he did left to the imagination.

"Heyyy sweetheart..." John tried to put on his trusty showman attitude, an awkward grin stretched across his face while trying to cover himself with the next best pillow. "Sorry babe, didn't wanna wake you up. Just go back to slee-"

"And miss out on the show?" you chuckle half-sleepily and he wants to die. He's done worse things in his life, way worse to be precize - so why is he fucking shy nowy just because you caught him? "Aww, you're blushing." He contemplates lasering your lips together to make you shut up.

"C'mon, John, I know you're holding back for some reason, but we don't have to go all out." Shuffling closer to your boyfriend, you give him those damn doe-eyes he can never say no to. "And I'd love to lend you a hand, if you know what I mean."

John instinctively closes his eyes as your face moves closer, lips eagerly awaiting yours...

...but just when you were about to touch him, he takes a hold of your wrist. "Y/N, I-" he shakes his head, trying to regain his composure. "Just- just let me go to the bathroom, okay?"

You frown. Worse, the humiliation makes tears dwell in your eyes. Pushing your partner is wrong, but without context you really start doubting yourself here.

Suddenly the stench of fear was lingering in the air, and your heart starts racing like a hummingbird. Trying to calm yourself was a fruitless attempt in front of a man that could perceive almost anything, even your pathetic strangled sobs.

So he was right: You're afraid and maybe even disgusted by his behavior, and just offered yourself to placate him.

Maybe he should just snap your neck to escape the inevitable heartbreak.

"A-Are you cheating on me?"

"Huh?" That question caught him off guard. He was prepared to hear anything, seriously all kinds of insults or accusations, but that? "Are you dense? Why the fuck would I cheat on you?"

And that's when it dawns on him: You are scared - but not of him.

To your defense, he did have a reputation of not being able to keep it in his pants. Maeve had remarked that fact more than once so you wouldn't forget. And him constantly being swarmed by the prettiest celebrities didn't do any good to your self-esteem either.

You're scared of him leaving you.

"Then what is it?" you sniveled, shrinking into yourself as you hugged your own legs. Seeing you like this and knowing he's responsible was somehow even worse than his earlier apprehensions. "You always react as if you got burned whenever we touch. Did I do something wrong, or- or am I not attractive enough?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" John scoffs in an almost irritated tone, unable to refrain from rolling his eyes. Comforting people didn't really come easy to him, even if he hated himself for not being able to let the shielding facade drop just this once. "You're gorgeous and you know that! C'mon, you women are always causing arguments out of thin air. Stop making this about yourself, would y-"

Seeing your glossy eyes turn into a glare at his ramblings made him shut up immediately, but the damage has already been done. "You know what, I'll-" For a while, you sit on the edge of the bed thinking and with every passing second of silence, Homelander's anxiety skyrockets. "I think it's better if I sleep at my own place for a while."

That's exactly what he's talking about, damn it! The line between control and insanity is a thin thread, and he is not willing to take any chances - when it comes to you at least.

"No!" he almost screams at you, jumping up from the bed and pointing a warning finger at you. "You're not going fucking anywhere!" When he sees your wary expression John's eyes soften, instantly regretting his outburst.

Why does he always fuck up? Why can he never seem to keep what makes him happy? Why can't he be what you need?

Homelander buries his face in his hands, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself just like you taught him. "Look, I-" He reluctantly put his hands on each of your shoulders and when you don't flinch away, he starts rubbing circles on your back. You always do it for him when he's upset, so he figures maybe it can help you too. "Please...I'll tell you the truth, okay? Just...don't leave."

You turn around to face him, nodding mutely as he wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb. Seeing you cry was gutwrenching, moreso when he was the reason. "I..." he helplessly gestures around, wishing there was a script to this like he was usually provided. "I tend to become...rough."

"So?" The initial hurt now turned into confusion, suspicion even about whether he was telling the truth. You defendingly cross your arms, like a barrier so you wouldn't falter before you got answers.

"I'm not made out of glass." Compared to his strenght, you might as well be. "And I can talk. If you become too wild I'll let you know."

Stubborn as always. But he loved that about you, too. "It's not that easy, Y/N." His head falls in defeat and exasperation. John's about to cry himself, and he hates you seeing him anything less than perfect. "I'll hurt you, and then you'll hate me. Or worse..."

Consciously ignoring the worse part, you cup both sides of his face, making him look up to meet your eyes. "John..."

You straddle his waist again, feeling relief now that you finally understood. Peppering kisses across his face and neck you whisper "I was so, so worried you had grown tired of me..."

"Never." Homelander wasn't someone to apologize often, let alone sincerely. The times he did ever since leaving the lab he can count on one hand.

But despite him being...well, him, John knows best what it's like to be plaqued by insecurities. He hugs you tight enough to make you feel the sincerity of his words. "I only wanted to protect you. I never wanted to make you feel this way."

"Next time talk to me from the start, okay?" You smile softly as he aggrees, and he doubts to be deserving of all your sympathy.

Your hands never leave his body, featherlight touch reassuringly calming his nerves. And yet together with the fact that the only thing currently separating your bodies was your thin panty, it was no wonder that his body reacted the way it did.

A moan disrups your conversation when his cock stiffens again, and you can't help but buck your hips against him in response. Your panties were already soaking anyway, due to the friction and his dirty little deed earlier.

The scent of your lust wipe all negative emotions from your boyfriend's mind, replacing them with something else.

"I want you, John" you breathe against his ear and he whines. "We could just take it slowly..."

"I don't know how" he admits, and you smile at his reluctant aggreement. Gently being shoved down on his back again, it feels like he melts beneathe your fingertips. "Then I'll teach you."

Goosebumps rise on his skin as your fingertips ghost over his body, and you lean over for a longdue kiss, so tender and affectionate John thinks he will fall apart.

Homelander's groan gets swallowed by your lips as you pull your panties aside, slick folds now grinding against his cock. Your name falls from his lips in meek whimpers and you refuse to believe this wonderful man could ever harm you.

"Let me take care of you." Shit, how do you always know exactly what to say?

Raking your hands through your hair as you sit up, air gets stuck in Homelander's throat at the sight, making him choke.

You look fucking magnificent.

Hell, he'd pay an artist to paint you like this so he could look at it forever. If only it didn't require another person seeing you naked...

"You know, I thought it was just my imagination..." A mischievous smile plays on your lips now that you think of it. "But my panties have been disappearing a lot lately."

Your boyfriend didn't respond anything else but a whimmer, shame washing over him at being caught. Not that he was really subtle to begin with.

"Speak up" you tease, giving his shaft a soft squeeze and he instinctively thrusts into your hand like a dog in heat. "Did you use them to get yourself off to your fantasies, huh? Naughty boy." His cock twitches in your palm at the words. "From now on, I want you to come to me for release. Always."

"I trust you" you add as doubt is clearly written on his face, voice firm and as unwavering as your loving eyes, driving tears into his own. You lower yourself on his cock, savouring the feeling of being filled out like this. "Mhh...you feel so good inside of me. Will you behave, John?"

"Y-Yes..." was all he managed to wring out, since it takes every ounce of strenght inside of him to not cum to your sweet affirmations right away. John clutches the bedframe so hard that it crumbles under his grip, but to his surprise you don't wince at the sound - quite the opposite, it shot a wave of heat right through your core.

"John...look at me." You guide his hands away from his eyes to cup your breasts instead, looking at him like he's the best fucking thing in the world. The intensity of your gaze causes him to shiver, makes him wanna hide.

Yes, this is too good to be true.

Whatever you see in him right now he will taint with his own hands given time.

And yet he can't stop anymore, now that he's aware of the depht your love helds for him.

You read him like a damn book, noticing his internal struggle so you silence the voices in his head with a passionate kiss. "So good for me, John" you cheer him on, moving your hips at a low pace.

Tension finally leaves his body and he dives his tongue into your mouth, groaning deeply as he moves his body alongside yours. His touch was careful yet bruising, sending pleasant tingles down your spine.

"I love you, John" you cry out as your foreheads touch, eyes never leaving his. "I love you so damn much!"

That declaration was enough to drive him over the edge.

Homelander pulls you as close as close as humanly possible when he stills momentarily, jackknive-like thrusts chasing after his high. The sounds he made as you got filled up bordered on obscene, as did the amount of cum spilling out of you.

"Shit" he speaks breathlessly against your skin, covering a bitemark he had just caused with kisses. "M'sorry..."

And yet he wasn't willing to let go off of you just yet, this amazing orgasm unable to ward off the embarassment of his poor performance.

"Never apologize for having a good time, silly" you chuckle, brushing your nose against his. "I'm flattered, if anything."

John never knew that sex could be so...satisfying, more than just physically. Filled with carefree laughter instead of expectations.

After all, he was conditioned to never wanna disappoint.

"Nah-a-ah." You yelped as he spun you around effortlessly, now him being the one howering over you, bearing his canines like a starved predator. "I refuse to let my goddess go unworshipped."

"John...I'm okay, really. Sex between lovers is not just about that..." And yet when he opens your legs, you don't resist.

He bets you taste just as fucking good as you smell, feisty little thing. Driving him crazy all those weeks. Do you have any idea how hard it was to endure this sweet torture for your sake?!

A shiver runs down your spine when he licks his lips at the sight of your leaking entrance, taking a deep inhale. There's a hunger in his eyes that no sane person could ever comprehend - but you indulged in it, craved in his twisted kind of love.

Heh, you were a goddamn freak just like him all along, isn't that right?

Homelander takes his time kissing a path down to your navel, admiring the marks he left on your body he was now able to see as the lovebites they are. He briefly looks up to assure himself of your consent, an answering smile all he needs to continue.

"Myyyy tuuuurn" he chants so cheerful, you almost thought he had put on his formal persona.

A relieving finger finally has mercy and slides into your already overstimulated sex, making you arch your back when he curls it inside. Pleads and curses falling from your lips as he enters a second one and then another, and you desperately try to move yourself deeper onto him.

"Attagirl!" Seems like his confidence has returned, at least judging by that damn smug smile his tone indicated. The frustrated pout you wore right now was so adorable, he decided to end your misery and bury his head between your legs as well.

You were still fucking yourself on his fingers while he relished the taste of himself on your pussy, before enveloping your clit with his tongue. "That's my fucking girl right there" he mouths as he ate you out, pumping his fingers keenly on your weak spot he so easily found. "Come on, I want to hear you."

When you came it felt like you were ascending to the afterlife, screaming his name at the top of your lungs before collapsing into the sheets.

Your legs had long since gave out but John put them over his shoulders, humping the mattress while his tongue still ran over your nerve endings, shooting jolts of overwhelming pleasure through your system.

"Oopsie" he coos, a predatory glint in his eyes as he crawled on top of you again, his kiss giving you a taste of your own spent. "Made me hard again."

You eyes flutter open after the last bit of your climax had ebbed out, exhausted yet invitingly batting your lashes as your limbs entangled once again.

"Seems like I found the Homelander's weakness."

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely!!! As I mentioned earlier, I apologize again do sending so many asks, I'm sick and stuck at home rn, so my brain has been working on overtime, so if I have an idea and think u might like it, I am sending them lol.

I wanted to know if u could write spencer x bau!reader, where reader is a technical analyst with Penelope for the team. But the last case was a pretty big one and she ended up sacrificing her sleep and needs to Penelope and everyone else could rest? So now that the case is over shes beng kinda stubborn and doesn't really wanna adress it, nor rest till she finishes the few remaining things?

Like always, you don't gotta write anything I request!!! I hope you've had a good week so far and get plenty of rest lol <333

Sincerely, :]

Hi sweetheart! No worries, send as many as you like! I'm just answering them at my own pace :)

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 876 words

“Hello my favorite genius.” Penelope snags Spencer by his sleeve just as he’s about to step into the elevator, using his momentum to swing him around and start him back the other direction. “I need you to get your ladylove out of my office—” she winces. “Our office. Sorry. Old habits, they do die hard.” 

“She’s still here?” Spencer asks, having learned long ago how to bulldoze through the fluff of conversations with Garcia. “I thought she’d be home already.” 

“Oh, no,” she says gravely, voice dropping to a whisper as they near the tech room. “I don’t think she’s been there in days. You cannot say anything, but she’s starting to smell.” 

Spencer prepares himself for the worst as the door opens, but all he finds is you, cute if a little bedraggled, hunched over your keyboard. 

“Hi,” he says tentatively when your glassed-over eyes don’t leave the screen. Your face is awash in blue light, blank but for the determined pinch of your mouth as you work. “Ready to go home?” 

“You can’t kick me out,” you say. Spencer blinks in surprise and a bit of hurt at your blunt tone before he realizes you aren’t speaking to him. “You can’t make him kick me out, either. I just have a few things left to do.”

“Very admirable work ethic,” Penelope shoots back, her own voice chipper with a steel edge, “but you’ve done plenty. We can finish this tomorrow.” 

You don’t stop typing even for a second. “Go home, Pen.” 

She gives Spencer an emphatic, helpless look behind your back, and he nods, signaling for her to go. She backs out of the room with her hands held up in front of her like she’ll need to ward you off, grabbing her bag and shutting the door behind her. 

“Hey.” Freed from the last constraints of professionalism, Spencer slips into his most honeyed tone. “Let’s get out of here, sweetheart. I’ve got a bed and a fridge full of almost-bad takeout waiting for us at home.” 

“Just a couple of things left to do,” you mutter, but your tone is considerably less hard than it had been with Penelope. 

“There will always be things left to do.” He walks up behind your chair, setting his hands on your shoulders and his chin on your head. You smell a bit stale, a sure tell you’ve been too long in this room, but nothing so bad as Penelope had warned him about. Just day-old you. “I may not know the full scope of things, but I know you’ve been working really hard on this case. You deserve some rest. You need some rest,” he amends. “Let me drive you home.” 

Something like longing flickers across your expression, but then it hardens back into resolve. “Thanks, Spence, but I can drive myself once I’m done.” 

Spencer decides to switch tactics. Oftentimes, the best way to get you to accept help is to let you think you’re actually helping someone else. He straightens and takes a couple of quick steps back from your desk with your chair in hand, rolling you with him.

“Hey!” you reach for your keyboard, but Spencer’s already swiveling your seat, turning you to face him. 

He sets his hands on the armrests. “Sweetheart, I just got off a four hour flight after a three day case. I’d really like to go home, but I’m not leaving here without you.” The divot between your eyebrows takes on a new character, frustration softening into sympathy. “And you haven’t even let me say a real hello.” 

A spark of happiness lights your eyes a second before they fall closed, face tipping up in eager anticipation as Spencer dips down to kiss you. It’s soft and lingering, and you rub your lips together self-consciously after it’s over, realizing how chapped they are. Spencer wonders when the last time you drank water was. 

“Sorry,” you say softly. “I didn’t mean to hold you up.” 

“You’re not,” he reassures you quickly, wanting you pliant but not guilty. “I mean, I don’t mind. Of course I don’t mind waiting for you. But are you ready to go now?” 

You cast a hesitant, skeptical look back at your computer, but Spencer smooths his thumb over the inside of your wrist, and you relent. “Yeah, okay. I just have to come back early tomorrow to finish up.” 

Spencer hums noncommittally. He was already planning on disabling your alarms after you’re asleep tonight. You need rest more than the higher-ups need your reports. You stand, grabbing your bag from under your desk and letting him shepherd you towards the door. 

“Do you think we could order some new takeout?” you ask him. 

“Good idea,” he agrees, somewhat relieved. “The stuff in the fridge has chicken in it, I don’t trust that.” 

Your laugh is somewhat lighter than usual, exhaustion setting in now that you’re out of your cave, but Spencer relishes the sound regardless. “Yeah, me neither. Pizza?” 

“Pizza,” he confirms. 

You make it all the way downstairs before your eyes flare and you spin around. “Shit, I think I left the light—”

“Nope.” Spencer takes you by the shoulders, steering you towards his car. “Someone else will take care of it.”

[clownstillwritesfanfic]

I Could Be A Good Mother, and I Wanna Be Your Wife - Katsuki Bakugo x Fem!Reader (REUPLOADED)

PLEASE READ: my old blog (clownwritesfanfic) was deleted when my main blog attached to it got terminated for some unknown reason. I can’t get it back so I’m reuploading everything I had saved in my notes app. Sorry for any inconvenience or disappointment, trust me, I’m devastated, but with your help I can get back to my former glory so PLEASE reblog if you like it 🙏😭

Summary: Class 1A is given the surprise task of caring for baby dolls. Everyone is randomly paired up in two’s, and it’s just your luck that you get your crush as a partner.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 6,535

Warnings/Notes: plus size friendly, poc friendly, trans women friendly (except the bonus scene at the end), reader has a quirk

Disclaimer: This fic was written originally with an OC of mine in mind, however, most people don’t read Canon x OC and while I normally wouldn’t care and wrote one anyway, I am very proud of this and want as many people to read it as possible and hopefully enjoy it. So with that in mind, I took out any describing factors and her name but I did keep some of her backstory and her quirk. If that bothers you, you can move on but I hope you read it anyway because I’m very proud of this.

Also, there is another OC of mine in this story, Usagi. She’s not integral to the plot and has no speaking roles. I had to add her to keep the class even, otherwise someone would’ve been a single parent.

———————————————————————

It was a Monday, few weeks after a majority of Class 1A got their provisional hero licenses when Midnight and Recovery Girl entered the classroom. Aizawa had taken it upon himself to snuggle up in his yellow sleeping bag and take a nap after introducing the two women, leaving them to explain what today’s class is.

The students expected Midnight, considering she had taught a few of their classes before, but there were murmurs of why the school nurse was there.

“Listen up boys and girls! We have a very special and unique class for today!” Midnight announced as she raised her hand in the air, her leather whip clutched in her hand, catching the attention of everyone (who was awake) in the room.

“Today isn’t about hero work or everyday schoolwork. This lesson is special, it will help you all later in your lives if you choose this path. The path being….PARENTHOOD!” She exclaimed while striking an enthusiastic pose.

“Wait, what?!” “Seriously?” “What do you mean?!” A series of voices could be heard throughout the classroom.

“Settle down!” Midnight got the attention of the students. “This lesson is the most important lesson anyone can learn. Whether you want to become a parent or not, learning how to care for babies and children is a vital and selfless aspect of life.”

There were a couple hushed protests among the class but Recovery Girl talked over them. “You will have one week to care for these babies.” She explained as she pulled out eleven baby dolls of various genders and races. “These dolls are specially made for things like this. These babies will cry, make noises, “sleep”, “eat”, and soil its diaper like a real baby. They’re also able to record and grade you based on how quickly you can figure out and resolve its problem. And be careful what you say around it and how you say things. They can detect anger and verbal abuse which will drastically affect your score. Now…any questions?”

A bunch of hands were instantly raised. But that didn’t matter since Bakugou stood up and slammed his hands onto his desk and yelled. “WHAT THE HELL DO WE HAVE TO RAISE SOME DUMB BABIES FOR?! THIS IS THE HERO COURSE NOT A NURSEY COURSE!”

“Sit down.” Midnight said sternly. She took over the conversation. “While this lesson isn’t exactly meant to play into your hero work, this knowledge can be beneficial out in the field. For example, in some rescue operations, it can take hours for a child to be reunited with their family. Most of the time, medics will take the child and work with police to try and reunite them with their parents, but there are times where a hero must step in and care for and comfort the child. With older children around three to five years old, they’re easier to calm down. You can talk to them and explain the situation and reassure them. But babies and younger children are harder to console in high stress situations. If you learn these things now, you won’t be stressed if you ever get caught in a situation where you’re in charge of a small child. A lot of heroes are inexperienced with child care unless they are a parent themselves or have young family members. Think of this as getting ahead of a problem before it even starts. Make sense?”

Bakugou grumbled and sat back down.

“Eeeee This is going to be fun! We get to take care of cute babies!” Ashido squealed.

“I don’t think it will be that fun, Mina. Babies are a lot of hard work and dedication.” Asui chimed in, a finger lifted up to her lips. She had two younger siblings, so she knew a thing or two about raising kids.

“Correct you are, child.” Recovery Girl said. “The infant stage is one of the toughest stages of child rearing since they can’t communicate their needs and wants with words. It’s a lot of guessing and paying attention to their body language. However, these dolls do not move so you will have to rely on audio cues to guess what the child needs.”

Midnight spoke up. “You will be split up into groups of two all determined by a random draw. Because there are more boys than girls in this class, some of you will end up in a same sex partnership. You do not have to act as a real couple so don’t freak out if you’re partnered with someone you don’t have romantic feelings for. What’s important is teamwork on taking care of the baby. You are in charge of the child for the rest of this week, including the weekend. You may chose to either take turns or to split responsibility evenly. You will be given all the supplies you will need, if you end up needing more, Recovery Girl will help you. At the end of the week you will return the dolls and we will tally up the scores and see which couple has the lowest score. The lowest score is the winner since each mistake is marked based on how severe of a mistake it was. The higher the score, the worse you did. Any more questions?”

Iida quickly raised his hand. Midnight gestured for him to speak. He stood up and loudly asked “If we are to have the baby all day for the rest of the week, what do we do with it while training? You can’t expect us to take the baby with us! That’s highly dangerous and immoral and I would expect better from such a prestigious school!”

“Yes, you’re right. We don’t expect you to keep the doll with you while training. That’s why each of you will have to figure something out. One of you will have to sit out of training unless you can find a better option. Leaving the child in your dorm and hoping for the best is not an option and neither is bringing it to training and leaving it off to the side. It’s like real life. One of the parents has to stay home and care for the child. Sometimes they will get a babysitter but that is not an option for you since the scores need to come from you and your partner only for you to pass. If you really want to train that day, you’ll either have to talk it through with your partner, or train later in the day during your free time.” Midnight answered.

“Thank you very much for clearing this up.” Iida said, bowing deeply before taking his seat.

Midnight clapped her hands. “Alright! With everything out of the way, let’s draw for your partners.” She held up a blue plastic box. “In this box is twenty-two coloured tokens. There are eleven pairs. Each one of you will reach into this box and pull out one token, when everyone has a token, you will be given time to find the person with the same colour token. They will be your partner for the rest of the week. You may not switch partners. Each colour is already assigned to a baby as well, so you don’t get to chose that either.” As she finished explaining she walked around the room letting everyone reach in and pull out a token. When the box was empty she returned to the front and allowed the class to find their partners.

Midoriya and Uraraka had the yellow tokens, Shouji and Asui had the purple tokens, Mina and Kirishima had the red tokens, Kaminari and Jirou had the orange tokens, Hagakure and Yayorozu had the light blue tokens, Sero and Mineta had the black tokens, Usagi and Tokoyami had the dark blue tokens, Todoroki and Ojiro had the pink tokens, Iida and Aoyama had the green tokens, and Satou and Kouda had the white tokens.

You looked down at your brown coloured token and looked back up to scan the room. All your classmates were already paired up and either happily talking about how it would be to raise a baby together or complaining about their partner. You could faintly hear Mineta crying about not being paired up with a girl. You look across the room at Bakugou who was still sat at his desk, glaring at his token.

Upon closer look, you could see that it was the same colour as yours. You sighed, already accepting that you’ll basically be a single parent as you can’t imagine he’d want anything to do with this. You reluctantly stood up and made your way across the classroom to him.

“Um…hey. Looks like we have the same colour. Guess we’re partners for the week.” You said, gently.

“I can fucking see that. I’m not blind, dumbass.” He retorted.

Ah, it seems he’s decided to take on the verbally abusive and absent father route already. You’ll have to do your best to make sure you get a low enough score. You’ve never taken care of a baby before. You had baby dolls as a kid but they’ve never graded you before. This was a whole new challenge and you could feel the anxiety pooling in your stomach.

“Right…well. We should talk about how we want to do this.” You started. “I think we should take turns each day. I could take it today and you take it tomorrow and repeat. I know you probably don’t want to skip a day of training so I can take it during training even on your days. There’s not much really for me to train anyway so I can afford to lose a week of it.” You let out a weak laugh.

Bakugou growled. “Do whatever you want but don’t be stupid. You can train on the days I have it. Don’t stop your training over some dumb doll.”

“But…you would be stopping yours if you-“ You get cut off by the blonde.

“I’m already the best in this whole class! Missing a few days of training isn’t going to do anything. Besides, you’re weak and you need to be at your strongest so I can beat you and prove that I’m the best in this entire school!” He yelled. You think that was a compliment albeit he put it weirdly.

“Ha…yeah…okay.” You replied. Just then the bell rang and everyone started to put their stuff away. You went over to your desk to do the same.

“Please return your tokens to the box! And before you leave, pick up your baby with the matching colour onesie and the bag of necessities. You have the rest of the day to yourselves.” Said Midnight.

You slung your bag onto your back and walked to the front of the room and dropped your token back into the box. You waited for your classmates to fizzle out a bit so you could get your baby. The dolls were all lined up in car seats. You found the one wearing a brown onesie, a girl with blonde hair. You chuckled to yourself at the resemblance to your partner.

You grabbed the handle of the car seat and went to grab the big duffel bag next to it when someone grabbed it before you. You look over to see Bakugou standing over you, glaring off to the side.

“Move it.” He gruffed out as he slung the bag over his shoulder.

You left the classroom with Bakugou trailing behind you, still scowling. You turn around and start walking backwards to face him and hold out the car seat so he could see the doll nestled inside.

“Look. She looks like you.” You giggled. He glanced down at the blonde doll and huffed.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” He grumbled. You rolled your eyes and turned back around and followed your classmates to the dorms.

———————————————————————

Back in the dorms, everyone was changed out of their school uniforms and gathered in the common room with their new kids. Everyone of course…except for Bakugou, who very grumpily went to his room after dropping the bag of things off at your room.

You had went through the bag and found loads of diapers, clothing, a carrier that strapped to your chest, bottles, a pacifier, and some baby toys. You weren’t exactly sure why you would need toys, considering the baby isn’t actually real, but you guessed you’d find out the reason sooner or later.

You decided to change her out of her boring brown onesie so you picked out a cute outfit from the ones provided. You undid the buckles holding the baby in the car seat (why it came in a car seat when you don’t even know how to drive a car, you will not know) and gently and carefully lifted the little girl out of the seat, making sure to support her head.

As you laid her on the ground and started to undress her, she started making cooing noises.

“Oh! Hello….you must be awake now I guess.” You spoke to the baby as she cooed in reply. “Ha…I guess you are kinda cute.” You felt as if you were talking to yourself.

When your new daughter was dressed, you decided to go to the common room since you thought everyone would be there, and right you were. As you went down the hallway you could hear the excited chatter of your classmates getting louder. When you were in sight, Mina noticed you and waved you over.

“Hey! Come over here! We’re all showing off our babies!” She excitedly exclaimed. As you walked over, Kirishima stood up from his spot beside Mina and offered the space to you. You thanked him as you sat down and readjusted your baby in your arms.

“Course! What kinda man would I be if I didn’t offer a seat to a lady with a baby!” He replied. Ever so chivalrous, he is.

“Ha! That rhymed.” Kaminari pointed out.

“Awww you got a girl? How lucky!” Mina squealed. “Kirishima and I got a boy. We named him Kenji.” You looked down at her lap where the doll was laid on its back.

“You named it?” You asked.

“Well yeah! We can’t just keep calling him “it” and “the baby”.” She explained as if it was obvious.

Iida then chimed in, his baby tucked securely in one of his arms. “Yes, I suppose it would be beneficial to name the child. This is supposed to be taken seriously and we can not leave a child unnamed!”

There were murmurs of agreement throughout the room as everyone talked with their partners on what they should name their baby. You looked down to the small blonde doll in your arms that let out another coo and softly smiled.

“Riki…” You thought to yourself. “I’ll call you Riki.”

———————————————————————

“Riki?” Bakugou gawked. “You gave it a name?”

Bakugou was helping with making dinner, well, it was more like he forced everyone to let him do most of it because “no one was doing it right”. You were stood out of the way but within talking distance, your newly named baby in one arm and holding a bottle up to her mouth as she “ate”.

“First off, she’s a she not an “it”. Secondly, everyone in the class named their baby. We have to take this seriously and I’m not going to call her an “it” the whole week. Besides…I thought Riki would be a good name. It means “strong”….and since she kinda looks like you, I figured you’d want your kid to be strong like you so…” You trailed off looking down at the doll in your arms. “We can change it though if you really don’t like it.”

Bakugou huffs. “No…call it-…..call her whatever you want.” He continues to cook in silence. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks. You smile softly at him. Maybe you won’t have to do this alone after all.

———————————————————————

The first day goes by smoothly. You had a bit of a learning curve with changing the diaper but you managed after help from Yayorozu. Who knew she’d be so good at something like that?

You had just settled down into bed after putting Riki to “sleep” and were scrolling on your phone. It was about 10pm, most people were still awake but you knew the person you wanted to talk to most more than likely wasn’t. He went to bed at 8:30pm every night, even on weekends.

You stared at your screen open on Bakugou’s blank private messages page. UA made an app for the students to contact each other and teachers with. It worked like a regular texting app, every class had their own group chat and you could private message each other, even students from other classes. All of them were accessible to staff if needed though.

You didn’t know if you should even bother asking him if he’s still going to take Riki tomorrow. Plus you didn’t want to wake him up. You were about to turn your phone off when you got a message from Mina. You open up her message and see a picture of Kirishima with his hair down, asleep on one of the couches in the common room with their baby on his chest. You laughed quietly to yourself and responded with a cute reaction meme. You thought they would make an interesting pair for this project.

You turned off your phone and plugged it in to charge and set it on your bedside table. You got comfortable in bed and closed your eyes. It would take you a while to fall asleep so you started to let your mind wander. You realized that tomorrow Bakugou will miss out on training if he takes the baby. He already told you earlier today in class not to worry about it and to focus on your own training…but you genuinely couldn’t think on how training would benefit you.

Your quirk has always been more of a supporting quirk rather than one that could do well in a fight one on one. Your quirk is called Cheer, by speaking words of encouragement to someone, you can make your target stronger both physically and emotionally. The reverse also works, if you berate someone it makes them weaker. You can use it on more than one person but its effects get weaker the more people you use it in at once. There’s also a major weakness to your quirk. Anytime you berate someone, you gain confidence, but when you encourage someone, it takes away your confidence. Because of this you feel inferior to everyone else in your class. Even Mineta has a more useful quirk in combat than you do. You’re basically forced to sit on the sidelines and watch people fight. It helps in rescue operations but you still wished you could fight like everyone else. You only managed to get into the hero course because you racked up enough rescue points and got lucky with a three pointer.

It’s ironic that someone with an inferiority complex got paired up with someone with a superiority complex. It’s even more ironic that you managed to gain a crush on the bastard too.

———————————————————————

It was now Tuesday morning and Bakugou was sat in his room staring at the doll in its car seat.

You had entered the common room already dressed in your uniform with Riki in the seat. Hero training was the first class that morning so anyone who was in charge of their baby that day stayed behind and would join everyone later for normal classes. Your tie wasn’t done yet and your skirt was pulled up a little too high, showing off more thigh than you usually do, as you were in a rush since Riki wouldn’t stop crying and you couldn’t figure out why. She had finally managed to settle down when you gave her the included pacifier.

You weren’t much of a breakfast eater, especially if you were training in the morning so you didn’t go to the kitchen. You noticed Bakugou sat on one of the couches drinking something out of a mug. He was wearing a simple black tank top and sweatpants.

��Oh Bakugou! There you are. I’m guessing since you’re not in uniform you’re still taking Riki today.” You sat the car seat on the floor near him and started doing your tie. You knew you were just going to have to take it off soon to change into your hero costume but you still wanted to show up looking like you at least tried. “So I figured out that she makes different noises depending on what she wants. Most of the time she just wants to be held or given a pacifier so she makes really whiny sounds that almost sound like a cry. She was just crying now and the only thing that made her stop was the pacifier so she might start up again soon. I made a smaller bag of her things like diapers and her bottle just so you’re not carrying a big ass duffel bag later.” You were almost rivalling Midoriya with how fast you were muttering, you didn’t mean to but you didn’t want to be late and you kept fumbling with your tie.

As you were smoothing out your front, you felt a pair of hands grab the bottom of your skirt and start to pull down. You shrieked and smacked the hands away and turned around to see (to the best of your ability) Hagakure behind you.

“Oh my god, Hagakure! I had no idea who was behind me! You scared me thinking it was Mineta pulling at my skirt.” You laughed and grabbed onto the girls arms.

“Ahhh I’m sorry! I just noticed your skirt was up a lot higher than normal and you almost showed off a bit too much.” The invisible girl explained as you fixed your skirt. “Come on, we got to get to class!”

“Right, yeah, I’m coming.” You responded as Hagakure held your hand. You quickly turned to Bakugou again who once again had a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “You sure you’ll be okay? I know it’s only for an hour before I see you again so if you want to pawn her off to me next class then that’s fine.”

“Tch…how incompetent do you think I am? Of course I can take care of some stupid doll for an hour!” He barked back at you.

You felt Hagakure pulling you towards the front door. “Ok, well…see you later then!” You said as you finally took off with your friend, leaving Bakugou and a few others scattered around the common room.

“Heyyy, Bakugou! You get stuck on babysitting duty too?” Kaminari taunted, his baby settled in a carrier strapped to his chest.

Bakugou growled. “It’s not babysitting when it’s your own kid you idiot. And you look dumb with that thing on.” He stood up and grabbed the handle of the car seat and went off to his room. He could hear Kaminari complaining as he left.

Now here he was, in his room having a staring match with a doll. He wasn’t sure what to do for an hour, let along with a baby. He glanced up at some math homework left on his desk and decided to finish it up so he was ahead of everyone else in class. Ten minutes past when his concentration was interrupted by whining. He looked over at the car seat that was faced away from him at this angle and sighed. He reached over and turned it around.

“Jesus. She didn’t mention how fucking annoying it would be.” He muttered to himself as he undid the straps and lifted the baby out. “What the hell is your problem, huh?” He asked, surprisingly not as loud as he normally would. He thought maybe she was hungry and remembered you said something about a small bag with her bottle in it. He looked around but couldn’t find it. In fact, he didn’t remember seeing any bag with the baby anyway. He grumbled as he picked up his phone and opened up the messaging app and sent you a private message.

In the locker rooms you heard your phone buzz and decided to look at it as you were changing. You saw a notification from Bakugou and quickly opened it.

Katsuki Bakugou: hey, dumbass. she’s crying but I can’t find that bag you were talking about

You winced as you remembered that you never actually grabbed the bag in your rush to get downstairs.

You: damn I must have forgotten it in my room, sorry. feel free to go and grab it. my room code is 6678 it should be on my desk. you know which floor I’m on right?

Bakugou scoffed.

Katsuki Bakugou: yes I know. I’m not stupid.

You: never said you were <3 have fun lol

You didn’t realize you sent the heart. It was muscle memory from texting with your friends, but it sent Bakugou for a loop.

After he had quickly made his way to the second floor and grabbed the bag you mentioned, he went back to his room where he had left the baby on his bed. Her whining had turned into crying by now.

“Alright, Alright! I got your damn stuff.” Bakugou sat on the floor and settled the doll into his arm. He removed the pacifier and held the bottle up to its mouth. He felt relieved when the crying stopped. “This is fucking ridiculous.” He thought out loud.

He rested his back on his bed and started to drift off in to thought. Why did you send that heart? Did you mean to do it? Was it a reflex? Were you making fun of him? No…that couldn’t be right. You were one of the few that took him seriously. Sure you teased him sometimes, but not as much as the others. He thought back to a time where he accidentally overheard something he probably shouldn’t have that still made his heart feel weird.

———————————————————————

Bakugou was making his way to the kitchen to get something to drink. He could hear you and the other girls of Class 1A giggling and talking about random shit.

He was going to ignore the group when something made him stop in his tracks right before he would be seen.

“Sooo, who do you like?” Mina asked with a teasing voice.

“Who, me?” You asked as Mina nodded. All eyes were on you and you felt yourself blush. “Well…I guess I kinda have a thing for Bakugou…” You answered shyly, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“What?!” “Wait, Bakugou?!” “Really?” The girls cried out in unison.

“Why is that so shocking? You guys seriously don’t think he’s at least a little bit attractive?” You inquired.

Bakugou stiffened at the confession and he felt his heartbeat speed up. You…had a crush on him? Someone actually was interested in him romantically?

“You don’t think all his yelling and name calling is a turn off?” Uraraka asked.

“Hm…not really. Sure he says some mean stuff but…he doesn’t actually mean it.” You reasoned.

“I don’t know…he always seems to be serious about it. I mean he doesn’t even know our names.” Jirou huffed.

“Yes he does!” You laughed. “He’s not stupid. He’s a lot smarter than I think any of you give him credit for.”

“He is in the top our class academic wise as well as hero wise.” Yayorozu chimes in.

“Exactly. Have none of you realized that a lot of his plans actually work? He may seem like he’s rushing into things but it’s obvious he’s put clear thought into his plans. And the fact that he can make one up that quickly is impressive. He’s also more compassionate than you’d think.” You said, leaning back on the couch.

“Well I think you’re wrong with that.” Tsu replied.

“Because you guys are only seeing the surface level. You’re not reading in between the lines. For example, remember when we just moved into the dorms, the talk Mr. Aizawa had with us outside?” They nodded. “When Mr. Aizawa left, you could feel the uncomfortable tension in the class at being reminded of what happened. Bakugou grabbed Kaminari and made him go all dumb because he knew it would make everyone laugh. And it did! The tension was gone instantly! Bakugou really does care, he just doesn’t know how to show it like other people. And remember the school festival? He totally could’ve refused to play the drums but he did it anyway! That’s what I like about him. He’s not a cold hearted asshole, he just wants you to think he is. I use to be like that too.” You trailed off, looking ashamed.

“Wait. YOU were an asshole?” Mina prodded.

You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, back when I first got my quirk. I realized that putting other people down gave me a lot of confidence. I went on a power trip and started bullying everyone. I started to realize that the “friends” that I did have were only my “friends” so they could escape my words. Made me feel like shit when I found out. Now I hate using my quirk like that unless absolutely necessary. But yeah….I see through Bakugou’s walls and I guess it just made me fall for him.” You changed the subject.

“Wow…you’re whipped for him, aren’t you?” Mina teased.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t tell him that. I don’t need him on my ass about it.” You blushed and waved her off.

“You sure you don’t want him on your ass?” Mina teased again.

“OH SHUT UP!” You threw a pillow at her as the girls laughed.

———————————————————————

Bakugou had zoned out at that memory. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, it’s your fault for being so damn loud and talking about him in the first place! It’s been a few weeks since that and it’s still fresh in his mind. Did he like you back? He wasn’t sure. On one hand he was pissed at how you managed to figure him out so easily, but on the other hand…he felt comforted knowing someone understood him and didn’t make fun of him for it. He will admit that you weren’t that bad looking or as stupid as everyone else. He did wish you would see the potential you had with your quirk, though. He could feel his cheeks start to heat up and he scoffed, snapping out of his thoughts and looking back down at the doll in his arms.

“I guess…she’s not so bad…” He said softly to Riki.

———————————————————————

Training had finished and you and the rest of your classmates were on your way to your next class.

Upon entering the classroom you noticed everyone that had skipped out on training standing around, babies either in their arms, strapped to their chest, or in the car seat. Bakugou was sat in his spot, chin in his hand looking out the window to his left.

You had a few minutes to spare before class started so you walked up to your partner. “Hey! How’d it go? Was she fussy?” You asked as you squatted down to see Riki, who was in her car seat on the floor next to his desk.

“Tch, no. I told you I know what I’m doing.” He grumbled.

“I’m pretty sure none of us know what we’re doing but it’s nice to know that you’re taking this seriously.” You replied standing back up.

“HA? YOU THINK I WOULD’NT? YOU THINK I’M NOT CAPABLE OF THIS?” He yelled as he let off small explosions.

“Course not. I did kinda think you would end up leaving most of this to me though. But it’s nice that you’re playing along.” You smiled sincerely.

Iida started ushering everyone to their assigned seats as class was about to begin. You patted Bakugou on his shoulder and left to your seat near the back of the class.

He clenched his fists and glared down at his desk, he could feel his heartbeat going wild again.

———————————————————————

A few days had passed and it was now Friday night and you were at your wits end.

It was your day with Riki and she had been crying non stop for thirty minutes now. You were pacing your room with her in your arms as the doll “sobbed” louder and louder with each agonizing minute. You had no idea what was wrong; you tried feeding her, changing her diaper, holding her, giving her a pacifier, you even tried the toys that they provided but nothing was working!

You were close to tears yourself as you thought about how this would affect your grade and how pissed Bakugou would be if you ruined it. The whole week went by just fine, it never took this long for her to settle down. You had gotten lucky with the baby you were given as she was so easy to care for, but this moment right now was proving difficult.

Feeling like you had no other choice, you left your room with your still wailing daughter in your arms and quickly made your way up to Bakugou’s room.

You knocked on his door while still trying to shush Riki. When Bakugou opened the door, he looked like he had just woken up which made you start ranting.

“Bakugou, fuck, I’m so sorry to bother you right now I know you like to go to bed early but she’s been crying like this for like thirty minutes now and I’ve tried everything but she just won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do and I’m probably gonna make us fail cause I can’t get her to fucking stop and I just…” You panted “…can you please help me?” You nearly whined.

“Give her to me.” Bakugou reached out as you transferred her into his arms. He walked away with the crying doll, leaving his door open. You decided that was an invitation so you slipped into his room and gently closed the door behind you. You watched as Bakugou gently bounced the doll in his arms and started petting its blonde head.

You stared in awe as Riki started to finally quiet down until she was silent. You breathed out a sigh of relief but tears started to quickly gather in your eyes. Bakugou had opened his balcony door and stepped outside to the cool air. You ran a hand through your messy hair and followed them out onto the balcony. The not quite freezing but cold air nipping at your skin. It felt nice as you didn’t even notice that you were sweating from the stress. You bent over and rested your elbows on the railing and placed your head in your hands, trying to hold back your tears.

“She had been crying for so long…I tried everything but nothing worked. But the minute you have her she finally stops. What the hell am I doing wrong? Why am I such a bad mother?” You muttered more to yourself but your partner could hear you anyways.

A minute of silence went by as you tried to not let your tears fall when Bakugou finally spoke up, surprising gently. “Don’t beat yourself up over something you barely know how to handle.”

He leaned his back against the railing next to you. His arm barely grazing against your shoulder, his way of trying to comfort you. You sniffed and dropped your arms from your head and looked forward out into the dark courtyard.

“She’s been perfect this entire week. Nothing I couldn’t handle…but she just had to act like a total brat tonight.” You sighed.

“Hey.” Bakugou said sternly. “Don’t call our daughter a brat…that’s my line.”

You laughed at that, completely overlooking the fact that you called the doll “our daughter”. Bakugou softly smiled at your laugh, also not realizing exactly what he said. But her certainly felt his heart flutter as he looked down at the baby in his arms.

Bakugou decided he’d take her for the rest of the night so you could get some sleep. It was his turn tomorrow anyway.

———————————————————————

Monday had come by quickly, thus, ending the project. Recovery Girl had collected the dolls, and you couldn’t lie, you felt a little sad at the fact that you won’t have Riki around anymore. The class waited in anticipation to see whose grade was the lowest.

When the results came in, Midnight stood at the front of the class once again and started to call out the grades.

“Coming in last place is Sero and Mineta with a sixty-five.” Mineta started screaming about how unfair it was and that they got a faulty doll. “Todoroki and Ojiro have a score of thirty-four, Kaminari and Jirou have a thirty, Iida and Aoyama a twenty-seven, Usagi and Tokoyami with twenty-five, Shouji and Asui with twenty-one, Hagakure and Yayorozu with twenty, Mina and Kirishima with an eighteen, Satou and Kouda with a fifteen, Bakugou and (Y/N) with a score of eight, and lastly, coming in first place with the best score is Midoriya and Uraraka with a three! Good work everyone. I hope you all learned some valuable lessons from this experience!” Midnight finished.

There were high fives and cheers coming from the people with the lower scores and talks of what they could’ve done better from the people with higher marks.

You stared down at your desk smiling. Eight wasn’t so bad, right? Much better than what Mineta got.

At the front of the class, Bakugou has turned his head back to look at you and softly smiled to himself when he saw your relief. He turned back around to look down at his hands as he played with his pen. He could hear Midoriya and Uraraka being congratulated for the lowest score and for once in his life….he didn’t mind coming in second.

———————————————————————

Bonus:

Twelve years later, Bakugou had established himself as the number two hero with his own agency. You worked along side him as his number one sidekick. You both grew a lot since high school and grew closer from the experience. You managed to get rid of your inferiority complex and become more comfortable with using your quirk against villains rather than standing by and cheering on the heroes. You can also hold your own in combat pretty well now and you have a slew of support items to help.

But instead of kicking ass on the street you were laid out on a hospital bed after the longest 7 hours of your life. You were sweaty and exhausted, but it was all worth it as you looked at the little bundle in your arms. A head of blonde hair was peaking out of the blanket.

“What should we name her?” You whispered to the person leaning over you with their hand on your head and looking lovingly down at the newborn.

“…..Riki.” Bakugou said softly.

[korkorali]

The Misogyny of It All

So a lot of Della Duck Discourse is rehashed all the time, points are made again and again, but one thing that I almost never see people defend -and conversely, see people attack all the time- is The Line.

You know what I'm talking about. The Line from Glomtales.

"Your plans, your schemes, they only lead to bad things for your family. If you want to be a part of this family, you've gotta stop."

That one.

Now, what exactly Della was trying to get across with that line is a whole other can of worms that deserves its own post (basically she -and also the writers- horribly failed her Speech check).

What we're going over here is how that mimics a certain line from the last season, said by a parental figure to a child, that gets so much less flack. That, in fact, often gets paraded around as 'an interesting twist on a character.'

"You are not family!"

I have never seen people attack this line with the same amount of vitriol as they attack Della's, which is funny when they're the exact same line.

Actually, not even that- Scrooge's is worse.

It's more direct, it's literally yelled at Webby, it doesn't even attempt to address the issue Scrooge had (Webby blaming him for what happened to Della) and instead just straight-up attacks her as a person.

Now, to be fully honest- I like this line! I do genuinely think it's an interesting route for Scrooge to take, and is quite realistic to the grumpy old bastard. It's just funny that nobody ever comes to Webby's defense the same way they do for Louie.

Because the thing is- between Webby and Louie, one of these two has genuine, canonical issues with feeling like they're not a part of the family, like they're an outsider amongst those they love the most, like they don't belong.

And it's not Louie.

It is a consistent part of Webby's characterization that she feels like she doesn't belong. This gets touched on in all three seasons (and honestly, it could be argued that it gets worse after this moment).

Conversely, that just is not a part of Louie's canonical characterization. Even in the first episode of season 2, the one where Louie gets the closest to an 'I don't belong in this family' moment, it's less 'I don't belong here' and more 'fuck me I am terrible at adventuring'. And! It gets resolved in that episode!

(Of course, there is absolutely something to be said for how it's resolved- specifically by Scrooge encouraging him to be a scheming little bastard, which then thusly becomes the thing that threatens his family the most. Which would, logically, be a pretty big blow to his self-esteem. This isn't what I'm here to discuss right now but it is genuinely interesting.)

Louie never really shows an issue with feeling like he doesn't belong in his family. He shows a disconnect with his family at times, but in canon that never really evolves into a full-blown feeling of displacement. It does get close in Glomtales, but never quite reaches it.

So it's 'interesting' (read: not interesting) that Scrooge's fuckup here gets brushed away pretty easily. A lot of the time the line just straight-up isn't addressed, and when it is, often times it's about how "Oh he apologized to Webby offscreen, obviously."

Which.

Not he did not.

I mean, let me be clear: I don't mind it when that's the answer. It works for me to just brush it away if it's not meant to be the focus...

But Scrooge almost certainly didn't apologize for it.

As 'New Gods on the Block!' Showed us, Scrooge is downright awful at realizing when his actions have hurt people.

More likely than not, Scrooge would just assume that everything is fine and would avoid bringing it up at all costs because he'd feel awkward about it. Because he is, very importantly, not good at talking about things he doesn't want to talk about.

So why is it that Louie is always the one feeling like he doesn't belong? Why is it Della who is always a terrible parent for what she's said? Why are Webby's feelings of disconnect never really given the same gravity as Louie's? Why is Scrooge's blunder let off the hook super easily?

It just feels silly to me.

And, well.

Kinda like the fact that, since Scrooge is a guy and Webby's a girl, and Della is a woman and Louie's a boy, has something to do with it.

I'll happily give the benefit of the doubt and assume it's not deliberate, but quite frankly it is a double standard.

I think that people would be less upset with the Della Duck Discourse if Scrooge was held in a similarly critical position over what he's said and done. If it was acknowledged that Della isn't uniquely awful in what she says and does, and that a lot of the others have fucked up in extremely similar ways.

(I mean for fuck's sake, everybody goes on and on about how Della left her kids for ten years -which, for the record, wasn't what she wanted to do- but nobody ever criticizes Donald for taking the kids away from their family and never talking to them about Della- which is something he actively and deliberately chose to do)

TL;DR: The fact that Della gets intensely criticized for what she's said and done, but Donald and Scrooge are conversely celebrated as 'interesting' and 'complex' for what they've said and done, even when it brings harm to the kids, is a blatant double-standard. And if you don't think that this double-standard is bad or wrong for existing (or even that it Doesn't Actually Exist), instead of immediately claiming that it's a non-issue, maybe try to look inward and figure out why you really think that is.

[raggedytiger]

ragatha/agatha and pomni/penny human hcs!

(r)agatha:

is an english teacher!

yes she still loves horses. she used to ride them, & she loves old western movies.

owns cowboy hat and boots.

analytical and loves long & winding conversations.

has a very happy cat named sandwich.

patches her own clothes, doesn't have kids but if she did she would embroider their names into their belongings.

she still plays cello, she loves music in general, probably sings like an angel.

can't do any mathematics.

can drive, but like a lunatic. somehow has never had an accident though, so it's fine.

probably has a cute little baby blue/yellow car now, but definitely had a beat up offroader truck at some point that got put to good use. or maybe she still does, i'm not the boss.

total lesbian, a bit of a heartbreaker but not intentionally (women just keep falling for her)

goes to town/neighbourhood/community meetings. likely is/was in a knitting circle

absurd number of quilts in her home

pomni/penny:

is an accountant as we know, and cannot cook for shit as we know.

no pets she can barely take herself for walks. is more similar to a cat, but had a dog growing up. would love a collie or a dalmatian probably.

would name the dog something stupid like Thermometer Johnson.

she can drive, but nervously.

really quick thinker, like impressively, unless she's under HUGE amounts of stress. is literally always thinking at 100mph.

no sense of interior decor or personal style. all practical, kind of butch. really does kill a suit.

very much lesbian but not fully to terms with it. probably had short-lived relationships with men in which she was 'content' but didn't really care for it. seeing agatha as agatha for the first time was probably a crazy punch to her little gay heart. not to mention the cowboy gear.

autistic

watches 90s anime to wind down

listens to every single genre of music. passes a lot of time with headphones in, slowly making her way thru the entire world's discography

owns no band merch or anything though she just listens

can't sleep without a fan on, thunderstorm 12hr audio, blackout curtains, weighted blanket, water nearby

does not sleep a lot

both of them (going to call them pomni and ragatha for convenience):

didn't immediately recognise one another. i havent got an exact idea of how they reunited after getting out, but there were tears.

bonded in a very rare and unique way - they got to revel in the newfound joys of real life again. they got to eat delicious food, go on long, unobstructed walks in the real sun, be warmed by it, chew on ice cubes and shiver at the pain, listen to each other's heartbeats, listen to real music, read real books, smell soaps and flowers and sauces. they went to the supermarket together and read all the labels, and bought one of each type of fruit to try between them, and smelled all the candles, and touched all the blankets. spent a lot of time holding hands and kissing and i'm sorry to say, probably having sex, because holy shit, i'm real, you're real, we're real

now live together in ragatha's apartment, after pomni moved out of her small and confusingly-furnished flat.

both of them feel inadequate from time to time. this is resolved by a stern-but-loving talking-to.

sandwich likes pomni very much. pomni doesn't really get cats, but loves sandwich a great deal, and enjoys letting her sleep on her lap.

ragatha is very pleased to see her girls getting along.

ragatha cooks, pomni chops the veg. she often doesn't fuck it up

pomni cleans a lot as a 'thank you for letting me live here, i love you'. she's very much acts of service, ragatha is words & physical touch <3

they watch a lot of movies together. depending on how long they've been stuck, they might have culture to catch up on

ragatha wants to have a house with a garden one day. pomni starts germinating seeds from their fruit & veg like a weird science experiment. ragatha is delighted when she is presented with a baby tomato plant.

clothes are shared. ragatha's are bigger, but most of pomni's are ill-fitting anyway so it can go both ways. ragatha likes to dress pomni up in different outfits and have her do a little fashion show. pomni pretends not to savour the confidence boost.

pomni starts sleeping more

[barbarianbookhoe]

hiiii! request for kaz x reader but they have a toddler together

Aww, I love toddlers! I have a cousin who's almost 3, and I play so much with him, ah (I swear he never sleeps)

A/N: I kinda imagine Kaz as a boydad (not really sure) (but if requested I can write one where he has a daughter) Kid's age isn't specified, around 2-3 years old. Btw, I tried a gender neutral reader, but it wasn't as good as I hoped, so this is a fem!reader x Kaz. Sorry for grammar mistakes!

TW: touch aversion, loss of brother, miscarriage

(I swear it's a fluff story, we just need to get through the dark ages first)

It was a faint noise at first, which Kaz decided to ignore, despite his instincts. It was coming from one of the streets below. Another noise came, this time louder, that was definitely coming from the room next door. He still tried to ignore it.

The third time around Kaz didn't bother pretending that the crying noise would resolve itself, so he sat up in bed and reached over to his side. He found it empty, which made him get out of bed and walk over to the entrance of the room attached to the bedroom.

But he came to a stop when he noticed the crying toddler from mere seconds ago, now soundlessly sleeping in your arms, as you cuddled him to your chest, lightly rocking yourselves in the rocking chair.

"It's okay, I got him. Go back to sleep," you whispered to him, not even looking up from your son. Kaz let out a quiet scoff. "And have conversation with the ceiling? If we're both already awake, then I'm staying." He said and sat down on the windowsill next to you.

"Your grumpiness in the morning won't be my fault," you told him on a sing song voice, not wanting to wake your child. He just rolled his eyes as he caressed his son's head. "You hate the mornings too, wife."

"At least I don't have the temper of a wet cat, husband."

Husband. Kaz took a moment to take the word in. Even after years of being married, he still couldn't believe it when you called him that. Calling you his wife came easily to him, as if his well protected heart knew who you were, long before his mind got drowned in you.

You never would've guessed you'd be holding his hand, let alone be in the same bed with him. It took the two of you months to get this far. Ever since Kaz told you that he wants you to stay with him, in his own way of course, he had been trying to get past his aversion to touch. He never told you, worrying that you wouldn't see him the same, so he did it in a way that wasn't easily noticeable.

It started with the proximity. Day by day, he sat or stood closer to you and the Crows, getting used to the possibility of accidental touches. Then came touching your arm and back, making it seem as if he's just guiding you somewhere. He did that a lot as a protective gesture.

After the second month of these little things, Kaz got fed up with himself one night, when you got stabbed on your leg and he couldn't help treating your wound. So, out of pure annoyment with himself, when you came into his office with some documents he asked for, he grabbed your waist and held you close to him. Your bodies weren't touching yet, but it was closer than you've ever been to him.

Both of you just stood there, not moving an inch, getting used to the feeling of Kaz holding you, despite the multiple layers of clothing. It was like a breath of fresh air.

So, with months of carefully calculated work, Kaz was able to sleep in the same bed with you, holding your hand, without a knot in his stomach, or phantom hands trying to pull him under. He only needed one look at your calm, content face and he felt like he could breathe again.

"This is what I've been saying! I shouldn't have even though about it!" Kaz said sternly, more to himself than you, as you sat on the edge of his bed, clutching his shirt to your chest.

"Kaz, we both knew this wasn't going to be easy! But the fact that you've been making progress for more than 3 years now, means that you care enough to try," you told him as his hands went through his hair. "You care enough about me, about us. And that means a lot to me."

"Clearly not enough, if I cannot even do this..." he whispers to himself, but you hear him and look at him with anger. "How many fucking times do I have to tell you, that I don't need you to do this? That I'm not demanding this from you?"

"You know you could make it easier," Kaz finally looks at you, frustration written on his face. "You could go to a brothel and get it done, without watching your partner lose his mind and cry in a corner."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You ask, the disbelief clear on your face as you stare at him. "Oh, you're serious? Damn it Kaz, I did not stay in Ketterdam because it was the easy way! I did not stay to watch you punish yourself for everything!" At your raised voice he looked at you as if he couldn't decide if he heard you correctly.

"Do not look at me like that, you know what I'm talking about! I'd like to remind you, that you were the one who said progress takes time, and that it's worth the waiting. That I am worth the waiting! So please Kaz, don't beat yourself up over this," you say the last words on a soft voice, that Kaz swears could lull him to a dream.

Kaz curls his hands into fists, but lets them relax as he sats down on the edge of the bed next to you. You look at him patiently, waiting for him to reach out to you. Despite the feather light touch he places on your cheek, his cold blue eyes seem to hold a certain heat to them.

"I'm blaming myself, because I can't touch you, or hold you, the way I want to," he whispers, his voice raspy from his emotions. "The way a woman like you should be held," he practically mouths the words onto your shoulder, slowly making his way to your neck.

"I would give all my money to treat you like you should be," he places a kiss on your cheek and pulls away from you, and you keep yourself glued to your spot, respecting his boundaries. Though, a voice inside you tries to convince you to pull him back.

You don't hide your feelings from him, instead you look at him with a heated gaze, and let him decide if he wants to continue or not. You could do it tonight, you want to do it, Saints you've been wanting to for a painfully long time, but you will never pressure him to make the first step. It won't lead to anything good if you push him, so you just keep sitting there, patiently staring at his eyes.

And when he nods, just a slight tilt of his head meaning he's ready, you reach out to take his face in your hand.

"Kaz?" You whisper and he hums in response. "I will give you all the kruge in the world, if you have tonight alone with me."

"You're bribing me into my own bed? I didn't expect this from you, Y/N," he says as he slowly removes the shirt you're still holding to your chest. You move up on the bed as Kaz tovers over you, his hands on each side of your head.

"Anything to get what I want," you whisper as you glance down to his lips and back to his eyes. Kaz slowly leans down to your lips, not wanting to rush himself. "Oh? And what do you want, darling?"

You don't even have to think before the word slips off your tongue, as natural as breathing.

"You."

Everything was fucked up. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. When Kaz reached out to his Crows for a job, for old times sake, a heist that shouldn't have been quarter as serious as the Ice Court, it went sideways at the last minute.

It was a blur to all of them how they got out, and none of them dared to question their luck. While you and Nina carried a bleeding Jesper back to the Slat, you suddenly felt a sharp pain in your abdomen, fearing that it might've been from a kick, or worse, a stab wound.

Inej, Wylan and Kaz surrounded the three of you, keeping an eye out for any more threats. Kaz pushed the Slat's door open for you to go inside, and Nina helped you get Jesper up into his old room, quickly setting him down on a desk he left there.

You were all grateful that almost no one was in the building, too busy living their life on a Friday night.

The pain in your abdomen appeared again, and you quickly checked yourself for a wound or bruise, but finding nothing you ignored it. Maybe it's from stress, it wouldn't be the first time.

The silence quickly disappeared when Nina and Kaz walked into the room, Wylan and Inej hot on their heels. They began arguing about Kaz's planning, Nina's still intact fear of using her abilities, Kaz's stubbornnes, and so on. You tried to yell at them to stop, not wanting to deal with their differences at the moment, but they didn't listen, even after multiple of your attempts.

During one of your outbursts, you sent Inej down to the kitchen to calm Wylan down and keep him company. She only returned to gave you a bowl of water and a towel, to clean off Jesper's wound.

As you worked, the sharp pain increased in your stomach and it took every ounce of your will to not double over. You didn't notice when Kaz and Nina had stopped their argument, but you did notice the eerie silence that followed. You were just finishing stitching Jesper's side, when you grabbed your stomach as a new wave of pain washed over you.

No.

No, no, no, no. This can't be happening. This is not what I think it is, you thought.

Please, don't let this be what I think it is.

You took a glance at your dark pants, but didn't notice anything, so you slided a hand between your thighs and checking it, you saw blood. You knew what it meant. You knew what this was, yet you had to take a second to fully wrap your head around it.

"Are you alright?" Nina asked from the foot of the bed, checking both you and Jesper. "Are you hurt? You look pale as a-"

"If she was, she would've told us Zenik," Kaz said on his usually cold voice, making Nina snap back at him. "How am I supposed to now, if I don't ask? Wouldn't be the first time one of you hid a wound-"

"Just shut up," you told them, but they didn't hear you over their new argument, and you felt the tears burning in your eyes, as you put a blanket over Jesper out of protectiveness for him.

You could feel the blood dripping down your pants, down to your leg, and you felt like throwing up. You took deep breaths to keep yourself from completely breaking.

"Wait, just, shut up for a minute Brekker!" Nina told Kaz and he was ready to snap at her, when Nina turned to you sternly. "Alright Y/N, I can literally feel the blood around you, so if you have any-"

"I need you to bring me my bag," you told her, not looking up at her, the pain still too evident on your face. "It's a brown bag, with clothes and hygienic stuff in it, it's under the bed in Kaz's room."

"Are you sure you're alright? I can check if there's anything that-"

"Nina, I'm having a miscarriage, would you fucking go and get it?!" You snap at her and making the mistake of staring at her while doing so. The unshead tears mixed with the pain in your eyes makes both Kaz and Nina freeze.

Kaz looks at you with wide eyes, his face going visibly pale, and his cane almost slips out from his hands. He manages to catch himself and leans his back to the wall for support. Nina doesn't know what to do, she just stands there, the tears streaming down her face. Before she could even try speaking up, you stop her.

"Please Nina, I beg of you, just get me that damn bag," your voice cracks as you try to hold back yourself from crying. As Nina opens the door to go, you will yourself to walk out the door, away from Kaz's hand, all the way to his room. Nina doesn't say anything as she gives you the bag, just looks at you mournfully, gently giving you a half hug.

You and Kaz stand in the room for what feels like hours, when you move to the small bathroom, unpacking your bag.

Why did I even ask Nina? I was heading here anyway. Nevermind, it got me time to compose myself until I got here, you tell yourself, a distraction from wanting to collapse to the floor.

When you felt the first tears escape, you furiously wiped them off, quickly getting some stuff from the bag. Your vision began to blur from your tears, despite your violent attempts at getting rid of them.

Kaz watched you with a mix of sadness, frustration and shock. He didn't even know you were pregnant. Maybe you didn't either, maybe you were just guessing, figuring it out. The state he saw you in when you realized what was happening, it was a stab to his heart. He didn't know how he could comfort you. He always understood your pain, but this time he knew he wouldn't. He would never fully understand this loss.

As he watched you become more furious with your tears, still trying to keep yourself from falling apart, he was there to catch you. Kaz abandoned his cane and wrapped you in a hug and let himself slowly slide down to the floor as you sobbed in his arms.

You told him you weren't ready for a child. He agreed that he wasn't either. Then why did this hurt you so much?

"I can't," you said but Jesper just scoffed. "Oh come on! I celebrate my wedding only once, and I already got Inej to drink. I believe the pirate life got to her," he giggled and you just shook your head at him.

Yes, Wylan and Jesper finally got married, which resulted in a small celebration within the Crows. Everyone was at their mansion in the dining room, congratulating the newly wed couple. Kaz was more alert than ever, never once leaving your side for more than a few minutes. Jesper even commented on it, which resulted in Kaz hitting his head with a slice of cake.

Jesper didn't mind though, he ate the remains off his head without problem.

"Just a sip for me, love! I even bought that fancy drink you like," Jesper said, practically begging you, but you just giggled at him. "Jesper, if a woman says no, then it's no."

"Alright, alright," he held his palms up, not pushing further. "Just tell me why. Normally, you wouldn't miss out on an occasion like this."

You took a quick glance at Kaz, and when he tried to cover up his boyish smirk with downing his drink, you smiled at Jesper.

'Yes, but normally I wouldn't be four months pregnant." The silence that came was filled with shock. Except the sound of Nina choking on her food, and Inej hitting her on the back for help.

"You're what?!"

"I'm gonna be an aunt, I'm gonna be an aunt!"

"I knew there was a reason Kaz acted like a guard dog lately!"

"Saints help this child,"

Everyone got so excited and busy with talking to you, that it gave Kaz a moment to relish in your presence. The way you were constantly smiling at them, already glowing from joy, your hand never letting go of Kaz's under the table. When Kaz felt someone's gaze on him, he glanced around to see Nina staring at him with a bittersweet smile, as if remembering the same thing he had on his mind.

This will be different. This will be better. This will be good.

As you came closer and closer to the end of your pregnancy, you became a hurricane of human emotions.

After announcing the news to the Crows, it was only a matter of time before you started showing. You and Kaz were both terrified of what could happen if anyone in the Barrel found out about your pregnancy. After endless days of debating with Kaz, you decided to move to Lij, Kaz's hometown for a few months.

The countryside relaxed you, and Kaz found it that if you had moved here sooner, maybe he could've evaded the aftermath of your mood changes. He thought this calm and happy version of you was far better than the one throwing knives at his head for gaining weight.

Since you came here, Kaz tried to deal with his trauma in this place too. He could still feel Jordie here, and in the first few weeks he was sure he was going to go mad. Until one night, when you were over the moon with the baby kicking, you advised Kaz to find peace within this place. So he did.

Reluctantly, annoyed and terrified to his core, but he did. He made a headstone for his family, he let himself mourn, remember the boy he once was.

He also didn't stop being Dirtyhands, now doing it via letters. He had Wylan and Jesper to take care of things for now, along with Anika and Specht. Kaz made sure to check on them quite seriously, despite not being able to go for more than a day or two.

One day he found himself working on the same things his father did in his memories. He made sure the little farmhouse had stable staircases, he rearranged the furniture almost everywhere, he fixed the bed frame in the bedroom, also fixed every single lock, door knob, window, and even made time to take care of the farm itself; the trees, the crops, the two horses in the stalls.

Despite trying to keep his hair as dark as possible, Kaz Brekker couldn't hide from the sunlight. Especially not when you looked the happiest when seeing him basked in sunlight, his hair brown like chocolate basked in honey.

"Just one more!" Nina shouted as you groaned in pain. You told Kaz that you wanted Nina to deliver your child, despite her lack of training. Though Nina helped assissting births before, this was different. All three of you knew it was different.

The baby was coming weeks earlier than they should've, which made you panic more than anything. You gripped the bedframe above your head so tightly, you could hear the wood creaking.

You've been at this for a few hours now, and you just wanted it to stop. Everything hurt and you wanted this to be over. Nina kept shouting at you, finding it the most effective way of keeping your focus on her. Kaz didn't leave your side for one second, except when Nina needed something to help her.

At first he kept his gloves on, the sweat of your skin making him doubt himself, but as the hours passed he got rid of them. His hand was gripping yours, trying to take away from your pain, if it was even possible.

But when you heard that cry, you felt the world stop. Nina was saying something as she checked on the newborn to make sure he was alright, but you couldn't hear it. The only thing that you focused on was the little boy, that was now placed on your chest. Everything fell into place as you stared down at him, with Kaz wrapping an arm around your shoulder, looking at his son like he was some kind of treasure.

You have spent hours in the rain to get information. You had knives thrown at you. You escaped death multiple times. Once you even drank poison to make a bluff look real.

All of them seemed like a walk on Sunday compared to the first year with your son. You could go on and on about how he didn't want to sleep, then didn't want to eat, then he would only stop crying when Kaz was holding him, then when he was constantly crying in his arms, scaring Kaz who had a hard time keeping the newborn at his chest, that when your son began sitting you were in constant fear of him somehow rolling off the bed, and-

And you would still say you love him more than anything. Because when he wasn't frustrating you, he was the happiest kid you've seen in your life. His giggle and laugh, the way his eyes lit up with joy while playing with him. Saints those eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, the exact replica of Kaz's. Whenever you looked at the two of them, you couldn't even try to deny they were father and son.

His hair turned out to be what you imagined: light brown, almost blonde, as if it was Sun kissed. He could be tricky just like Kaz too.

When he first stood up, not yet walking, you didn't saw him do it, but Kaz rushed to get you to make you see it. It was only a few seconds, but your son looked at you and sat down, and after asking him multiple times, he wouldn't stand up again. And the boy was giggling all through it.

His first steps were something that you'd keep in your memories forever. Because it wasn't a milestone just for him, but for Kaz too. Your son was past his first birthday, and Kaz was having a hard time with him. Something always went sideways, wether it was accidentally making him cry, or having to give him to you, because he couldn't hold him anymore.

You were moving back to Ketterdam to a quiet neighbourhood, where no one knew your face, the apartment purchased under a fake name.

Kaz was on the front porch of the farmhouse, getting the lighter boxes into the carriage. He heard footsteps behind him and when he turned he saw your son standing at the front door. You were just a few steps behind unmoving, not wanting to make him stop.

"You're gonna keep standing there, or will you help?" Kaz asked him, as if he could give him an answer.

He did this a lot with him. You noticed the habit by accident, when one time you came back from the market and heard Kaz talking to someone. You thought maybe one of the Crows came for a visit, so when you saw Kaz in deep conversation with your newborn about investments, you were more than surprised. From then on it became a daily routine for the two of them to "have a chat".

The child babbled something and Kaz nodded. "Start by coming here and picking this up," he said and held up a little toy blanket Inej got for your son.

And he did. He took four wabbling steps towards Kaz, purposefully looking at him before landing on his foot. Kaz instantly picked him up and when you saw one of his rare smiles, your heart melted a little.

Living in Ketterdam with a 2 year old was definitely the biggest job you and Kaz had to pull off. It helped that Wylan and Jesper was closer this way, if you needed someone to take care of your son.

What didn't help was the noise at night. Both of you got used to the sound of fights and drunks on the street, the neighbourhood far from the Barrel not escaping their voices. The two of you could've slept like it was nothing, if it wasn't for your child crying out in the middle of the night.

You had to take multiple turns in one night, and it was tiring the both of you out. With Kaz now back in the Barrel, doing his business, building his empire, it was slowly taking a toll on him. So one night, with the help of Jesper, Kaz snuck out with your son to his office in the Slat, figuring out a way to keep him calm.

You were in the Crow Club, tending to a few things, giving the impression that you were just travelling and doing jobs the past two years. You felt relieved to see how well Anika and Specht worked together, and felt a childish giggle in your throat as you fell back into your role as a guard. The rush you felt finally wearing your old clothes, the feeling of the knives strapped under your coat, and the sadistic joy of twisting a man's arm for the first time in years, it was unfathomable.

When you went to the Slat and made your way to Kaz's room you heard him talking again. Picking up on the calmer tone he used, you entered and noticed your son sitting in Kaz's lap, as he was pointing on a map in front of them.

"You're saying we should invest into Fifth Harbor?" Kaz asked but the toddler just said "ma". "Could you elaborate?" And with that he put the child's weight on his good leg and lightly began shaking his leg, as if the boy was riding a horse. He giggled as his own voice trembled from the motion.

"Yes, but in that case it'd be wiser to expand the Crow Club, or rather establish a new gambling den." Another sound came from the toddler, this time saying"mama". "Go, ask your mother yourself."

You were about to put a bullet in your head. Or at least ask Jesper to do it for you. By the look on Kaz's face you would have to wrestle for it.

You were spending the evening at Wylan's and what do you know, Jesper was ready to keep your son entertained the whole time. You on the other hand, were scared of what your toddler would accidentally say. He's been trying to talk to you for weeks now, only knowing words and not actual sentences yet.

But one night, when Kaz was late because of something he had to take care of, you were waiting for him in the kitchen after putting your son to sleep. He came in with blood all over his shirt, thankfully his coat covering most of it.

What you didn't notice though, was the small presence at the doorway, listening to the two of you talking.

"So, you just left him there like that? In his own kitchen?"

"You rather I tell him he's been a bad boy? The asshole was being overconfident with himself. Plus, he owes the Dregs."

"What did he even say?"

"I told him I have his contract with the Council, to which he said "You can shove it up your ass". I had a difficult day, so you know why I-"

"Your ass." The little voice said, wich made you look at him in shock. Your son was hiding behind the doorframe, clutching his stuffed animal to his chest. You looked back at Kaz in disbelief, which turned into annoyment.

"Would it kill you to teach him a decent word?"

"He knows the swear words from you, wife," Kaz told you with a smug look. "Fuck you," you whisper to him, but unfortunately still loud enough for your son to hear.

"Fuck"

"This is all your fault Kaz,"

So you were waiting for the bomb to drop, for your son to finally say one of the bad words he picked up, but the night went on without it. You bid your goodbye to Jesper and Wylan, your son holding your hand and waving at them as you did.

"You'll have to tell me where Jesper keeps his liquor," you ask of Wylan, and the little boy next to you finally speaks.

"Up your ass," he smiles. You just stare back at Wylan and Jesper's face with the best poker face you have, ignoring Kaz's cough next to you. Your son also says the word "fuck", but you're too stunned to pay it any mind.

"Uh, see you next week then," you tell them and turn to leave, but Jesper's voice stops you.

"Where the hell did he learn these?" He tries to contain his laugh, but the smile on his face fails him.

"Ma-ma,"

"I swear he's doing this on purpose."

A/N: The first half was more tragic than it should've been, I'm so fcking sorry, the idea just slipped out :/ Hope you liked it, though😅

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Bluebird — Azriel x Reader — Part VIII

Hey! Sorry for the wait on this one, it’s a big one and took me longer than I anticipated! I haven’t had the chance to properly proofread so sorry for any mistakes! Hope you enjoy all the same 💕

Summary: Forced to go on the road with her father, Reader gets a rude awakening that starts to play on her mind. But Azriel’s not willing to let go so easily.

Click here to be added to the Bluebird taglist! Please remember to check your settings and make sure you can be tagged! 💕

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: Pretty gruesome descriptions of violence and injury. Masturbation. Nsfw, 18+, minors dni!

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The curtains were drawn.

To superior fae sight, nothing lay behind them besides darkness. Not even the flickering of a candle.

Azriel waited. And waited, and waited. His eyes did not once stray from the window, and hope burned fierce in him that those curtains would suddenly part, that a beautiful human face would appear that made his heart race and his skin feel too taut on his bones.

The fabric didn’t even twitch.

He knew, after a couple of hours, that he would not be seeing his Bluebird tonight. He tried not to feel too disappointed as he flew back towards the wall, the comfort of the fae realm. Such was the nature of their…relationship. It was clandestine and risky, and sometimes things would come up. Sometimes, one or both of them would be unavailable.

But as he stripped off his leathers and fell into his huge bed, he couldn’t tear his thoughts from her. Thoughts of where she was, what she was doing, what had rendered her unavailable to meet — whether she was safe.

Too many thoughts like that would do him no good. Would only worsen this…this alien sensation, of needing her with him all the time. Needing to have her in sight. Needing to have her at all.

He could only pray to the Mother that the next week pedalled on fast.

That he’d see his Bluebird soon.

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It had been the most uncomfortable day of your life.

A monotonous day on horseback, one landscape blurring into another. The village you were travelling to seemed like worlds away — and the journey was only made worse by the sticky summer heat, and the fact that you rode with Devin, slotted between the tight press of his muscled thighs.

Still, you were unflinching in your resolve that while you may not have been able to wriggle out of sharing a horse with him, you weren’t going to talk to him, no matter how much he tried to ply you with conversation.

It was his fault you had to come on this trip in the first damn place.

You tried your hardest to while away the time by sinking into your thoughts. It seemed that with each hour that passed, those thoughts became more vibrant, more longing. Thoughts of you, Azriel, a wildflower meadow. The ability to just…be in each other’s arms.

The ability to kiss him. Touch him.

Those thoughts didn’t help at all. It was an effort to keep them at bay, lest you make the ride even more uncomfortable.

But eventually — thankfully — you and your father’s group had arrived in the target village, just as the sun had been setting. News of your father’s cause had spread wide enough that it seemed his presence was expected. And very much welcomed.

You’d been ushered into the village tavern and supplied with more food and drinks than any of you needed. The feast kept you occupied while your father was absent awhile, apparently visiting a few villagers he was familiar with. And when he’d returned, it was there, that evening, nestled at the very back of the old, crumbling building, that you’d watched your his passionate presentation.

You’d heard the words spoken numerous times, of course. To his friends, and to anyone at the Bluebird Inn who would listen. But this was more than just a speech. This was an entire damn performance.

And it surprised you, how uncomfortable it made you to watch.

For all your father was quiet, brooding, sometimes soft-spoken, he commanded the tavern with a voice louder than you’d ever heard come out of him. His cheeks had grown ruddier as his own words riled him up. Spittle accompanied the angered, venomous words that left his mouth.

And it was all you could do to watch, your dinner feeling leaden in your stomach as you listened to the words — listened to him reel off a list of people he, personally, had met, who had suffered at the hands of the fae. As he told the story of your mother’s brutal death, and the details formed a lump in your throat, never lessening in impact. As he presented his ideas, his plans, in a way that was so refined, so expert, that it almost had you considering that they were the best course of action.

But you knew Azriel. You knew Azriel. These faeries that your father raged about were not his brethren. Azriel himself would abhor their actions.

You repeated that to yourself in your head, like a chant. Azriel was not like them. Azriel was good. Azriel cared for you.

Two whole hours, you had to sit there and listen to your father talk about frightening creatures who stole babies from their bassinets, who brutalised young girls, who tore families apart. Two whole hours, and your muscles were stiff and aching. Your head throbbing. Your body and mind desperate for the oblivion of sleep. A respite away from the pang in your gut.

Azriel was not like them. Azriel was good. Azriel cared for you.

The sight of your father and his men traipsing around the room with rolls of parchment and gathering signatures was a relief — only because you knew this would soon be over.

You sighed softly to yourself, slumping back in your chair and absentmindedly rubbing a hand over your stomach. As though it would somehow ease the complicated feelings that twisted it so violently.

“Impactful.” The chair beside you was pulled out, and Devin lowered himself into it. “Don’t you think?”

You gave the slightest dip of your chin. Couldn’t deny that your father had a way with words.

Devin pursed his lips, his eyes skating over you. “We have a long ride home, Y/N. Are you going to ignore me the whole way back, too?”

“Yes,” you hissed. “Because you had no right to talk to my father on my behalf.”

He folded his arms, appearing unflinching and unbothered by what he’d done. You may have thought he was in the wrong, but he certainly didn’t.

“I did so out of concern for you,” he replied. “Because what you said about the fae was wrong. None of them are good. The sooner you see that, the better.”

You bit inside of your cheek, simply to prevent yourself from arguing. But gods, you wanted to contest the statement. You wished you could tell him that you had cold, hard, beautiful evidence that he was wrong.

But doing so would only make things worse for you.

So you merely folded your own arms, and focused your gaze on the men weaving in and out of tables, gathering signatures, clapping supporters on the back and parting with well wishes. You stared and stared until the sight of them blurred.

And then Devin said, “You haven’t been yourself recently.”

You whipped your head around to look at him — gape at him. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

“I know you were acting shifty as fuck the night I came to check on you during the Summer Festival. You couldn’t get rid of me quick enough. I’d be forgiven for thinking you had someone there with you.”

“Who would I possibly have at my house?” you narrowed your eyes. “I’m not allowed to make friends, to form connections.”

His gaze softened. “I’m your friend.”

It wasn’t that long ago that you’d fantasised about him being more than that. He’d seemed so incredible, so gallant — a young man who could sweep you off your feet, and protect you while he guarded an entire village. You’d wondered if there was ever any likelihood of him being drawn to you, instead of one of the many other beautiful girls within proximity. You’d wanted to impress him.

Now, you just wanted him out of your fucking sight before you said something that would land you in more shit.

“You—”

The tavern’s front door flung open, hard enough to slam against the wall, abruptly severing your sentence.

All fell still and silent as every face looked up to take in the man who entered. Hair ripped from the knot at the back of his neck, and he was drenched in sweat, clothes rumpled and—

And saturated with blood.

There was a beat, and then everyone who crowded the small space appeared to collectively clock what they were seeing. A wave of gasps rippled through the room like a breeze.

“I—” the man’s eyes immediately landed on your father, as though it were him he searched for. “I tried to do something, but I was too late. I couldn’t—”

“What has happened?” Your father strode forward.

“I was too late,” he repeated. “I…I think you need to see this.”

Just like that, every member of your group was readying themselves to leave — to throw themselves straight into the unknown. Devin, too, rose.

But your father was wrenching round to face them, shaking his head. “I’ll take only a couple of you with me. The rest of you should stay here until I send word,” he angled himself towards your table. “Devin, Y/N — you’ll join me.”

“Me?” Your eyes widened. Granted, you didn’t know what, exactly, you’d be facing, but one look at the blood-drenched man at the entrance told you it was bad. You didn’t know nearly enough about fighting, or defending, or healing—

“Yes.” Your father’s tone brooked no room for argument. “You.”

There was no chance to protest as you were yanked out of your seat by Devin and pulled along with him while your father headed out of the door. Your heart raced in your chest as Devin helped you up onto his horse, and you were lurched into action.

All you could think was that you wished — so badly wished — to be back in the safety of the Bluebird Inn. And Azriel’s arms.

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You didn’t travel far. A few dirty, dusty roads brought you straight to a house that was mostly unassuming, no different to the houses in your village.

But the similarities stopped at the first scream that ripped through the night and had you violently flinching, had the horses panicking.

Devin dismounted with ease and promptly lifted you off, setting you on your feet at the exact same moment another scream sounded, thinning out into a strangled sob.

“Come.” Your father beckoned to you as Devin made quick work of tying the horses up.

But you couldn’t get your feet to move. You stayed firmly rooted to the spot as you shook your head. “I can’t go in there.”

“You can and you will,” he beckoned again. “Don’t let me down.”

With him in front of you and Devin now at your back, you felt you had no choice but to follow. The man that had burst into the tavern held the front door open, increasing the volume of what now seemed to be wailing sobs.

“I’ve heard of your cause,” he said quietly as your father stepped in first. “Which is why I think you should see this. So you can report back firsthand to the Queens.”

The entryway was just light enough to catch the incline of your father’s head. He said nothing as you were led through—

You stopped dead in the doorway of what seemed to be a dining room. So abruptly that Devin’s front collided with your back.

“Her name is — was — Dahlia.” The man inched towards the table, balling his fists at his sides. “She was only fourteen years old.”

“What happened?” Those two little words came from you — and you didn’t even realise it.

Because lying motionless on the table was the body of a young girl — from what you could make out beneath the injuries that covered her skin, anyway.

Her pallor was such a deathly white that you knew she was long gone. Her clothes were dirty, ripped…by what looked like claws. Chunks of flesh had been gouged out, her throat cut—

Your ears were ringing too loudly for you to think. But as your heart beat at a gallop, another cry rent the air, stealing your attention to the corner of the room.

“This is Marin,” the man breathed, moving closer to the woman who sat curled up and distraught in the corner. “Dahlia’s mother. She saw the attack with her own eyes.”

“Oh, gods,” you whispered. Devin’s hand landed on your shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.

Your father took slow, careful footsteps towards the grieving mother. And the softness with which he knelt before her, laying a tentative hand atop of hers…it had your eyes stinging.

“My name is Marschal,” he introduced himself quietly. “I’m so sorry for what those monsters have taken from you. Your beautiful daughter is safe in the Beyond now. The fae can hurt her no more.”

Another soft cry shuddered out of Marin. But she nodded her head and answered, her voice watery, “I know who you are. What…what you do.”

“Then you’ll know why I’ve been brought here. What happened…it’s something I believe our queens should know about,” he paused. “If you’re able, I’d like to know exactly what it was you witnessed. As much as you can manage, of course.”

The request almost made you flinch. It seemed callous, somehow, when her child’s body was still right there on the table and hadn’t yet been sent back to the earth. But after a beat of Marin staring at your father through her tear-filled eyes, she offered the slightest dip of her chin.

“I…” Her voice wobbled. “I’ll try.”

“Devin,” your father murmured over his shoulder. “Fetch her a drink to steady her nerves.”

You were jostled ever so slightly forward as Devin slipped past you — too close to Dahlia’s poor, broken body than you could handle. You turned away, your feet numbly carrying you to Marin’s side. You took her hand into your own, and she didn’t object to the comfort.

In fact, her voice was a little steadier as she said, “It was just me and my Dahlia.” She inhaled slowly through her nose, steeling herself. Her eyes fluttered shut for the briefest second before they opened again. “We were returning home from visiting my sister in another village. It was such a nice night that we decided not to spend coin on transport. The walk was a bit lengthy, but we’d made it before. We knew which way to go.”

The story was momentarily interrupted by Devin re-entering the room and handing a glass of amber liquid to Marin. Her free hand trembled as she took it and lifted it to her lips. Beads of dark liquid coloured her pale lips as she swallowed it down and continued.

“Only, Dahlia insisted on cutting through a forest to look at some plants,” she whispered. “She’s into botany, you see — she was into botany.” A fresh wave of shuddering sobs threatened to overpower her, but somehow, she found the strength to tamp down on them. “So we went into the forest, but Dahlia, she…she had a habit of wandering off, and I got separated from her. It wasn’t for long. But when I found her again, she was with a man.”

Your father repeatedly softly, “A man?”

“I knew at once that it was a faerie. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. And Dahlia thought so, too. He was talking to her, and she had this glazed look in her eyes like she was somewhere else. He offered her his hand, and she took it. I knew in my bones that he was going to take her away from me, so I stepped forward, announced myself. I told Dahlia to come, that we were going home. The man answered for her in a voice like music.”

“What did he say?” you rasped.

“He said — he said that Dahlia would make a pretty wife for a faerie. That faerie men liked human brides. He said that she was coming back with him, across the wall. He asked her if she wanted to do that, and she said yes. I think he had her under some sort of spell. I could tell that it wasn’t my Dahlia talking. And I panicked. I stepped forward to grab her out of his arms, and he attacked. Immediately. It was all so quick, I couldn’t register what he was doing. But then he was disappearing before my eyes, and Dahlia was crumpling to the floor, and I knew…I could see she was gone.”

A keening, horrendous wail left her, and she was curling herself up so tightly — like she was trying to hold herself together. It was all you could do to grip onto her hand as she rocked back and forth and cried over and over and over, my Dahlia, my Dahlia, my Dahlia.

You waited for your father to say something else — to come up with an answer as to what might ease her suffering, if anything at all could.

But it was Devin who lowered himself to one knee before her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his face gentle, open.

“Madam, the last thing I wish to do is cause you any more distress at such an awful time.” He spoke in the calm, sure way that all village guards did. “But I am a guard of the village from which my companions and I hail. Our girls have been suffering attacks at the hands of the fae, also. If, perhaps, you could describe the faerie you saw…who hurt your child…”

“He was beautiful, as I said,” Marin snivelled. “So beautiful, it almost hurt to look at him. Dark hair and golden-brown skin. Eyes that seemed to glow. That beauty made him easy for Dahlia to trust. He seemed kind. His voice was just as stunning as he was.”

“Their beauty,” your father supplied sympathetically, “is a calculated part of their thrall. Do not blame yourself nor your daughter for being allured by it. The fae know what they are doing.”

You did not hear whether the reassurance brought Marin any comfort. You didn’t catch what Devin then said to her, despite you looking right at him, watching his lips move.

Your mind was roaring, ears screaming. You felt…panic.

Their beauty is a calculated part of their thrall.

The fae know what they are doing.

So beautiful, it almost hurt to look at him.

Dark hair and golden-brown skin. Eyes that seemed to glow. He seemed kind. His voice was just as stunning as he was.

Faerie men like human brides.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

Was it so easy to be lured by the mere beauty of the fae?

Was that what Azriel had done to you?

Dahlia’s attacker had seemed nice to her…just as Azriel seemed nice to you.

And Dahlia was now lying lifeless and brutalised just inches away. Allured by a beautiful faerie. Like the other village girls. Like your mother. Like you—

You launched up, nausea turning your stomach. This was too much. If all fae were the same…if all of them were capable of this…

“What is it?” Devin asked. Your father didn’t speak; merely stared at you with an indiscernible expression.

“I need some fresh air, I’m sorry.” Feeling as though you were gasping for breath, you pushed through them, stumbled clumsily past Dahlia’s body and out of the room before they could stop you. You focused on forcing your legs forward, finding your way out of the house. Balmy summer air coaxed you towards it and had you practically falling out of the door.

What had you been thinking, having regular, secret meetings with a faerie who could tear you apart with his bare hands? Inviting him into your village, your home? Allowing yourself to think that he was somehow different? Finding ways to justify your involvement with him?

Azriel may not have been responsible for the attacks himself, but his kind were. You didn’t know him. Didn’t know what he was capable of. For all you were aware, your warming to him had been carefully manipulated by him, by magic. For all you were aware, he could have an extensive list of human girls that he’d softened and lured. He could be using you for something.

You didn’t want to think about what. Didn’t want to know.

What you did know was that you couldn’t see him anymore. Dahlia was some sort of sign that your dealings with the fae had to stop. What you had with Azriel needed to stop—

“It hits a little close to home, doesn’t it?” Your father’s soft voice reached you from the doorway. Amidst your reeling thoughts, you hadn’t heard him follow you out.

You sucked in a huge gulp of fresh air and pivoted to face him. “It does,” you agreed. “I’m sorry if I disappointed you by running out of there.”

He shook his head, took a step closer. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I felt it was necessary for you to see just what a single faerie was capable of. That doesn’t mean I expect you to be unfeeling and unaffected. That sight in there is…it’s terrifying. And gods, if it were you lying on that table—” he cut himself off, swallowing hard. It was a rare thing for him to share such sentiments with you. That was as close as he’d allow himself to get.

So you nodded, letting him know that you got it. He was terrified of you meeting the same fate that poor Dahlia had.

The moment hung between you, thick as the sticky night air. And then you were taking the plunge and asking the question that lived somewhere deep and heavy inside you, trying to claw its way out.

“Was it like that when Mama was attacked?” you studied your father, waiting for him to flinch, grimace, something. “When she was attacked by a faerie, did she…did she look much like Dahlia does?”

A gruesome question, and perhaps an unfair one.

But for the first time in your life, you needed to know — the gory details. How bad it had been.

Your father pursed his lips, staring back at you. For a moment, you thought he might not answer.

But then he shook his head. Shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked…vulnerable.

“No,” he answered, his voice laced with something you couldn’t grasp. “No. There was far less left of your mother after her attack. Nothing of the woman I had loved.”

Before you could answer, he turned and trudged back inside.

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Three weeks in a row.

Three weeks in a damn row, the curtains had remained shut at Y/N’s bedroom window.

Azriel thought his need to see her was starting to eat him alive.

But gods, he missed her. He missed her curiosity, that she did not seem to fear him. Missed that he could lose hours talking to her about everything and nothing. Missed her scent, the taste and feel of her lips—

He heaved a sigh, sprawling back in his bed and running a hand over the panes of his bare stomach. His blood thudded and thrummed in his veins. Burned too hot.

He knew, at least, that she was well, only from the rare glances he caught of her from the sky above the village. Seeing her and not being able to swoop down and speak to her was a whole torture of its own. But if the curtains were closed, that meant it wasn’t safe. The last thing he wanted was to get her into trouble.

Still, that didn’t stop his bones from feeling too hot with need, his heart too heavy—

Another quiet sight escaped him, the pads of his fingers stroking absentmindedly over his abdomen. It felt entirely out his control that his thoughts quickly ventured down the same avenue they’d been walking for three weeks, now. Yet again recalling that conversation he and Y/N had had when he’d last been with her. The broadened confidence that had lain within her actions.

She’d asked him about lovers. She’d kissed him deeply, yearningly, and had he not stopped her, she would have taken it further. He knew she would have — knew it from the way her scent had changed.

Gods, that scent. He was sure it had followed him everywhere these past weeks. It would drive him mad yet. The scent of fresh summer air and sweet, ripe apples. It was perfect, and mouthwatering, and Cauldron boil him, Azriel wanted more. A touch. A taste—

A low noise rumbled in his chest as his cock instantly hardened. This was why it was best to keep his mind occupied. Because as time went on, so too did his growing, strengthening, snowballing attraction for the human woman.

She was likely unaware of what affect she truly had on him.

With only the covers draped over his naked body, the light brush of the fabric against his hardened length was too much. He kicked them away, glancing down at his body’s reaction to the mere thought of Y/N. Nothing to do with him not having had sex for a while now.

All to do with the fact that he wanted Y/N. Badly.

He wrapped a hand around his cock, releasing a hushed moan at the touch. And as his thumb mopped up the precum at the head, and he began to pump slowly, languidly, he closed his eyes and imagined it was her hand that touched him.

That mental image threw the unhurried pace straight out of the window. Fantasies swarmed him as he writhed on the mattress and bit down on his husky, growling moans. Thoughts of Y/N stroking and squeezing and licking him, of her guiding him through his pleasure with filthy words and promises. Watching his length disappear between those perfect, full lips—

A shout shuddered out of him that he was too slow to suppress, his chest heaving as he emptied his cock onto his stomach. The pleasure was too much. He couldn’t think around it, couldn’t see anything but the stars that burst in his vision.

He didn’t know when he’d last cum so fast, so hard.

But somehow, he did know that no other woman, female, whatever, would ever be enough again. Only Y/N. He wanted Y/N.

He needed to find a way to see her.

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Resolving to have nothing more to do with Azriel did not, unfortunately, banish thoughts of him. Nor did it banish the feeling of missing him, missing what you’d grown comfortable with.

It was hard to go from looking forward to weekly rendezvous to just…nothing. No social interaction, besides what you got from behind the bar of the inn. No personal connections.

It was for the best, you told yourself. In the three weeks since you’d been on the road with your father and his men, those images of Dahlia’s broken body had not left your mind. They haunted you as thoroughly as the sounds of Marin’s cries and wails. As thoroughly as those words she’d spoken.

The most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

Azriel was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. And while he may not have been responsible for Dahlia’s attack, or the attacks on the girls in your village…that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable.

The fae were a violent people. There was no getting around that. And you…you could not take that risk. No matter how much your heart yearned to do so, just to feel the touch of Azriel’s hands and hear the smooth lilt of his voice.

He was fae. You were human. It could never work.

So you kept your curtains closed, and you kept yourself busy. You knew Azriel must have wondered what was going on, why you’d been unavailable three weeks in a row. Soon enough, you told yourself, he was bound to get bored and seek connection with somebody else, and your brief brush with the fae would become a bizarre, distant memory.

You hoped.

Perhaps if you chanted it to yourself enough, it would come true.

But gods, you’d become so comfortable with him. Had found what felt like a real, genuine bond with somebody, like nothing you’d been able to experience before. It was no easy thing to return to loneliness, just you and the inn and your piano. Everything was suddenly too dull, too quiet.

At least your father hadn’t asked you to come on the road with him again.

His trips were getting longer, the further he ventured. Two days had stretched to four. You were more alone than ever.

Tonight, when the last of your customers had filed through the door, you were not in the mood to play piano, nor to read a book. Your frame of mind was a tricky one. You felt…restless and misplaced. Tired in your bones and yet wide awake and longing.

You tossed and you turned, kicking your sheets, writhing against your mattress until you were sticky with sweat. You wanted to pull back the curtains and wrench open the window, but…not at this hour. Not while Azriel might still be circling above, searching to see if you were available.

So in the dark, you let the hours tick by, waited for sleep to find you or…some semblance of peace. You listened to each chime of the village’s clock tower, making you aware of every hour you’d lain awake; one o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock. No passing time made a difference. Restlessness still commanded your body until finally, you’d had enough.

It was nearing four o’clock by the time you threw your sheets off you and stormed out of your bed, exasperated and fed up — by your constant thoughts that would not leave you alone, and how they seemed to control everything. What were you to do without the few hours of oblivion that sleep afforded you?

Was even this some power of the fae…to command your mind and drive you mad with sleeplessness and restlessness until you were losing yourself entirely, becoming an empty shell who lived only to harbour feelings for an ethereal being who saw you as some sort of toy? Was your longing even real, or just the product of magic?

You weren’t sure of anything anymore.

Though still very much night, the darkness had lifted just slightly over the village with another summer morning rapidly approaching. Birds were beginning to wake and sing their songs. It wouldn’t be too long before the milkman ventured through the village with his wagon, leaving bottles at the residents’ doors.

If Azriel had tried to visit, he certainly wouldn’t be around any longer — not with the world waking up.

So you resigned yourself to the fact that you wouldn’t be sleeping. You threw a robe over your nightgown and trudged down the stairs, irritated and ill at ease. You headed straight for the back door, to your small yard that was just as grey and dull as everything else. At least the air would be fresh. Somewhat.

Though tinged with the smells of the countryside, it was nice to feel it wash over you. Cool, in the absence of the sun, and yet not cold. You slumped down onto the wooden bench against the wall and rested your head back, closing your eyes.

How, you wondered, had you been foolish enough to land yourself in such a predicament? How had you gone from being some human, village nobody, to brushing arms with the very beings you’d been raised to despise? It had to be magic that had weaved its way into your mind. Perhaps Azriel hadn’t meant to bewitch you, but he had. Perhaps it was some natural facet of his kind that he had no control over, that you’d fallen victim to. You’d heard stories of the kinds of fae who were love talkers — Gancanagh — whose sole magic was to pour sweetened words into women’s ears and so thoroughly seduce them until they were nothing more than their feelings. Could that be what Azriel was? Could he have—

A thud ripped you from your thoughts so abruptly that you jolted, your eyes flying open.

Just in time to see Azriel jump down from the opposite wall, feet landing smoothly on the cracked concrete ground of the yard.

You stared at him, knocked speechless, for a moment, by the mere sight of him. You couldn’t deny that you’d missed gazing upon his brilliance. The dark leathers and flawless appearance. The shadows.

But you quickly yanked yourself out of it, shaking your head. You would not be bewitched or love-talked or…whatever. Not again.

“It’s so good to see you,” Azriel breathed, cleaving the silence.

But you were up on your feet, still shaking your head, suddenly cold all over. “You can’t be here.”

“I checked the village before I came down,” he stepped closer. “All is fine—”

“No,” you interrupted. “You need to leave.”

He paused, seeming to take his time studying you. His brow furrowed at your guardedness, the way you crossed your arms over your chest and eyed the distance between yourself and the door.

“I don’t understand…” he murmured, taking a step closer. “Where have you been? What’s happened?”

The backs of your legs hit the bench in your attempt to back up. “None of that matters. You just need to stay away from me. Leave, and don’t come back.”

Surprise seemed to steal him so suddenly that it gave you an opening the move. You made to cross your way back to the door, to get yourself inside. Locks were no use against his ability to winnow, but at least you could find a weapon in there, should you need it.

But Azriel was stepping closer just as fast, his warm hand closing around your elbow in a gentle yet firm touch. Gods, you’d missed that touch—

“Don’t,” you snapped, recoiling. “Do not touch me—”

“Y/N, just look at me. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Why?” Pivoting to face him didn’t ease his grip even a little. “So you can charm me into believing you’re not dangerous?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, his eyes blazing. “I never claimed not to be dangerous. But I am not a danger to you.”

A brusque, almost hysterical laugh broke from you. “Resorting to faerie riddles? How convenient—”

“Y/N—”

“Let me go.”

This time, when you yanked your arm back, his hand fell. You didn’t wait around to see his reaction as you darted through the door and slammed it shut, locking it with trembling hands.

But when you turned, he was right there in front of you, in your fucking house. You backed yourself up against the door to stop your body colliding with his.

“Get out,” you breathed. “I mean it. Get away from me.”

Slowly, he rose his hands in a placating manner. There was pleading in his tone as he carefully bit out, “I just want to talk to you. Please. Tell me what I’ve done.”

You stared at him, pressing your palms flat against the door. It hurt so, so badly that you wanted to hear him out. Wanted to wipe that crestfallen, devastated expression from his face and hold his hand and talk to him and kiss him—

No, no, no. You shook your head, shook the thoughts away. Azriel watched with wide eyes.

“I am not a danger to you,” he said again, slowly lowering his hands. “But if that’s what you’re worried about…” smooth as a damn waltz, he unsheathed a blade, sharp enough to slice through the sky itself. He gripped the hilt, holding the beautiful weapon out to you. “Take this. It is the only thing I am currently armed with, and if at any point you feel in danger, you have my permission to stab me with it. I just want to talk.”

Your gaze flicked between the blade and his face, unsure and upset. Upset, because you knew that the longer you spent in his presence, spent listening to his voice, the harder it would be to remember the driving force behind your hostility. The harder it would be to convince him to leave and never return.

But perhaps the key to that was not being hostile towards him, but rather, making him hostile towards you. That would be easier. You had never been completely honest with him — about who your father was. Maybe fessing up to the fact that you’d joined him in his campaign would be enough to anger Azriel into leaving.

You jerked your chin at the blade, squaring your shoulders. “Place it on the floor and step away.”

He didn’t hesitate. A shadow snaked out, coiling around the dagger and easing it to the floor with barely a noise. And then Azriel stepped back, and back, and back. Until he was pressed against the wall opposite you.

He didn’t move an inch as you reached for the knife and took it into your hand. The feel of it was weighty and foreign — and beautiful.

“I just want to talk to you,” Azriel said again, his voice gritty. “Tell me what happened. Tell me what…what’s changed.”

You met his eyes, squaring your shoulders as you admitted, “I wasn’t completely honest with you.”

His face showed no reaction. He didn’t even stir. Just stared back at you and spoke clearly, carefully. “Alright. Talk me through that.”

“We once discussed a band of humans who are raising a cause against the fae. Do you remember?”

“I do.”

“I never told you that it is my father who set up the cause. He is the one behind the campaigns. He is the one who takes his men village to village and spreads word of the evil deeds of the fae. He’s behind it all.”

A heavy silence filled the space between you. Azriel stared at you, his expression unreadable. This was the moment he would curse you for keeping the truth from him. The moment he would leave and never look back.

Except, all he did was nod his head once. Like you’d merely offered him a droll comment about the weather.

“Do you not understand what I’m telling you?” you pushed. “I sat up on that hill with you and discussed the matter when I knew the entire time who you were talking about. What they were doing. I deceived you. Kept it from you.”

“There are things you don’t know about me, too,” he answered quietly. “Things that I, for certain reasons, have not told you yet. I would be foolish to assume the same wouldn’t be the case for you,” he stared at you, head-on. Unflinching. “I know better than anybody, Y/N, that you cannot help who or what you come from. I won’t judge you for it, just as I’ve asked you not to judge me.”

Gods, he was so damn reasonable. So much more…worldly and mature, than the human men you knew in the village.

Then again, Azriel had centuries of life on them.

“I’m not angry that you didn’t tell me,” he studied you. “I can understand why you’d be cautious—”

“My father took me on his campaign three weeks ago. Took me on the road with him and his men.”

 It was that which seemed to really stop Azriel in his tracks. Something — the slightest thing, a tiny reaction — flared in his eyes. You weren’t sure what it was.

Good. This was good. Maybe now he would get the point, that you and he needed to stop seeing each other.

“Night after night, I sat and listened to what my father had to say. To what he knows,” your hand gripped hard at the knife’s hilt, like it was the only thing grounding you and making you able to speak. “None of it was stuff I hadn’t heard before. I even resented listening to it. I curled myself up in a corner and repeated to myself over and over that whatever was being said, you were not like that. You were not the kind of fae of which my father spoke.”

Azriel’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I am not. Just as I told you.”

“I found it frustrating to hear him tarnish all of your people with the same stories when you had proved to me otherwise. That some fae could be good. That I had been ignorant. And then,” a short laugh rasped out of you, “and then, as if the universe was trying to send me some sort of message, a man came looking for us and said we needed to accompany him somewhere. And we did. My father, a member of his group, and myself. We followed this man to a house in that village, and I knew it was bad from the other end of the street. I could hear the cries coming from within that house, the wailing.”

That information was met with a wall of silence — as though Azriel was biting back his words and waiting for you to finish your story before he would deign to speak. Even if the rigid set of his shoulders told you he desperately wanted to do otherwise.

“There was a girl’s body in that house.” Merely recalling the image of Dahlia had a lump rising in your throat. You silently begged your eyes not to tear up. “The body of a fourteen-year-old girl. A child. A fae male had attacked her, and her poor mother had seen the entire thing.”

Azriel swallowed. “That’s awful—”

“She told us exactly what she saw. Described the faerie to us. How he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, with dark eyes and golden skin and such a charming demeanour. How her daughter hadn’t stood a chance, because he was already weaving his way into her mind and appealing himself to her. Making her think that he was no threat. Because his beauty, his allure, was above anything else.”

“And…what are you saying?” Azriel asked bleakly. “That you think it was I who attacked that girl—?”

“No, but it was a faerie! It’s always the fucking fae!”

The words left you so angrily, so loudly, that you realised you’d been waiting for someone to yell them at. That they burned inside you, and they hurt. You felt…foolish. Betrayed.

And Azriel appeared to read all of that on your face. He swallowed again, hard, balling his fists at his sides like it took everything in his power to hold himself back and not approach you.

“I never once denied that faeries are capable of such atrocities,” he stared at you. “Not once. I simply asked you to acknowledge that there is good and bad in all people, whatever we are. It’s not as black and white as the fae just being bad.”

“And yet,” your voice was cold, “I haven’t been presented with anything to say otherwise.”

That might have been a low blow. You were guessing it was, from the way Azriel physically flinched, before schooling his features.

Because he…he was evidence of good, wasn’t he? He certainly had been, before the situation with poor Dahlia. He’d shown you that he was tender and soft, patient and kind. It had been enough for a while.

But you had more or less just said that it had never been enough at all. And that seemed to bother him more than anything else.

“You and I are worlds apart,” you added, sounding weaker. “Whatever or whoever you are…we simply have no business getting involved with one another.”

“That’s bullshit.” In a flash, Azriel was pushing off the wall. He strode forward a couple of steps, before thinking better of it and stopping in his tracks. Ferocity turned his golden skin a ruddy hue. “I don’t care what sides of the wall either of us fall on. What matters is that I feel right around you. I feel alive because of you. If we have no business getting involved, tell me why I cannot sleep for having constant thoughts about you. Tell me why you have consumed me as though you have bewitched me.”

You blinked, almost — almost — wanting to laugh. The description was one you absolutely had fitted to him. To consider that he’d come to the same conclusion about you—

“I swear to you that I have never used any sort of faerie sway to appeal myself to you,” he continued. “What we feel for one another is genuine. I keep coming back to you because I ache for you. And I don’t judge you one bit for thinking badly of my kind — especially after what you saw on your father’s trip. It’s awful, and I abhor what was done to that girl. But I beg of you, Y/N — please. Do not paint me in the same light.”

Each word pelted you like hailstones, the impact of them sending a shiver coursing down your spine. So quickly, your body wanted to falter, to fold, to go marching over to him. It took every shred of effort to stand your ground and grip onto the knife as though your life depended on it.

“I’m not trying to invalidate what you’ve seen, what you’ve experienced.” Azriel took another slight step forward. “I would never. I just…I ask you to give me one more chance to prove that there is another side to the coin. That good can exist as well as bad.”

You pointed the blade towards him, stopping him in his tracks. But you lifted your chin as you asked, “How? How would you prove that? I don’t want any faerie trickery.”

“And there would be none. I want to show you…for you to see with your own eyes…”

“…see what?”

“The good that I know. The good that I live amongst.” Pleading lay within his eyes. “Just give me one more night. One more night of your time to take you into my world. To show you more of myself. And if you still want nothing more to do with me…” Slowly, he shook his head, as though he could hardly bear the thought. “Then I will find a way to accept it, and you will never have to see me again.”

You shook — trembled — with the effort to rein yourself in. You didn’t understand this carnal…thing, deep inside you, that was drawing you to him. Like a thread in your body, connected to one in his, begging you to close the gap and go to him.

You rocked on your feet, eyeing him with none of the anger you’d felt moments before, and all of the caution at how he so often made you feel. Like you wanted to be in front of him. To touch him.

“I don’t…understand what you’re suggesting,” you said slowly.

Azriel took a single, tiny step closer. You didn’t stop him. “Let me take you across The Wall for one night. A few hours, if that’s all you’re willing to give. To my city, my home. Let me introduce you to my family. To everyone and everything that reminds me how much good exists amongst my kind, even when I sometimes doubt it myself.”

“Across The Wall—?”

“It would be entirely safe.” Another step, closing that gap between you. “I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. And if we get there and you don’t even want to talk to me, you don’t have to. I just…I just want you to see. You deserve to see the good.”

So many feelings warred inside you at once. Intrigue, curiosity, fear — such raging fear. Excitement. Maybe…maybe a little bit of hope.

Hope that you could still be proved wrong. Because you still wanted to be proved wrong.

You didn’t want to let Azriel go.

Swallowing hard, your eyes shuttered. What he was asking of you was huge, and that wasn’t even considering the logistics of how you would do it. “I don’t…know if I could.”

With another step, Azriel was close enough to touch. The familiar scent of him was almost enough, alone, for you to fold. The hand that held the blade lowered entirely without your willing.

“Why don’t you take the day to think about it?” Hazel eyes were a long-awaited caress against your face. “Your father is away for another night yet, isn’t he?”

Your gaze clashed with his abruptly. “How do you know that?”

Quickly, he held his hands up. “Just going by the pattern of his previous trips, that’s all. He doesn’t usually return until the weekend.”

Right. Perhaps you were being a little bit paranoid. You forced yourself to relax a little.

“Yes,” you concurred. “He’s away for another night.”

Azriel’s chin dipped. “So…how about this? You take the day to think my offer over. If you decide you want to accept and come with me, I’ll be waiting for you above. At midnight, on the dot. If you decide you don’t, and you do not want anything else to do with me…well, like I said, I’ll find a way to accept it somehow.”

You knew your resolve was already slipping, leaning more towards what felt right, rather than…that what you’d been raised to believe was right.

And it wasn’t as though it was an unreasonable offer. You believed that Azriel could keep you safe either side of The Wall. Your wellbeing wasn’t what concerned you in the slightest.

You supposed that it was that if you were to go along with this…there would likely be no turning back. You’d so far merely dipped your toe into the world of the fae.

Crossing The Wall would be like submerging yourself in it.

“Take the day to think about it,” Azriel said again, studying you closely. “All I ask is that you do think about it…properly. Don’t just…don’t just write me off. Please, Y/N. I couldn’t bear it.”

Something in his voice smothered that last shred of doubt that tried to hold you back. Your own voice was quiet as you replied, “Alright. I’ll think about it.”

In front of you, his shoulders seemed to slump with something like relief. Pleading still lay within his eyes. You weren’t sure, in that moment, if you could handle staring back at it.

So you instead held the knife out to him, ripping your gaze away. “You can have this back.”

“Don’t want to stab me?” he said, and your lips threatened to quirk up. You forced the smile away as he took the weapon back and sheathed it.

“I’ve yet to decide. I’ll spend the day contemplating that, too.”

So easy, to fall back into the natural rapport you had with him. Azriel didn’t bother to bite down on his smile.

But the smile then faltered, and worry clouded his eyes. “I really do hope you’ll give me another chance.”

“Why?” you blurted. “Why me?”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. And then he stepped away from you. Something in his stance told you he was readying himself to disappear.

“I’ll tell you why, if you come across the wall with me,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “I want to be transparent with you. But I have to protect my heart, too.”

“You—”

“Just think on it,” he spoke softer, gentler. “And get some sleep, Y/N.”

Before you could respond, a breeze rippled through the room, tinged with the smells of winter.

And just like that, you were alone.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

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[remusluvr]

do i wanna know? | sirius black

summary: Sirius learns the consequences of treating people he loves bad. content: negative thoughts, fighting, angst, unedited note: this is a part two to my previous fic words i used (sirius black)

Sirius cannot believe how badly he messed up.

It makes his heart ache when he sees you talking to anyone knowing that you won't talk to him. You won't even glance at him in the hallway. The dark circles under his eyes worsen with each day. You notice them, of course, you do because no matter how hard you try to forget the boy, you can't.

Not talking to him is driving you crazy. Seeing him around is driving you crazy. You hate to admit it but you miss Sirius. And Sirius misses you.

He misses you so much that his body hurts. He's weighed down in bed each morning, unable to decide whether or not to even try and get up. That's when James realizes he needs to step in. He can't let his best friend hurt like this.

"Pads?" he calls quietly, peeling back the curtains to Sirius's bed. Sirius groans, turning away from the incoming sunlight. James mumbles an apology, although he doesn't really mean it, before continuing, "Time to get up. You missed class yesterday, you got to go today or they won't let you play in the quidditch game on Friday."

"I don't care about quidditch." James knows he's not getting anywhere. He won't budge without initiative. If quidditch can't be that initiative for him, he has to find what will work.

"Can you please just go and talk to him? Please!" James begs, practically on his hands and knees in front of the table you're trying to eat breakfast at. "You know you still like him. Feelings don't go away that easily. He's so mopey without you."

"He did that to himself, James."

"I know he did but he really likes you. He messed up big time. He knows that. All he wants is to talk to you."

"He had plenty of time to talk to me."

James looks defeated when you stand up, walking past him quickly. And whilst he thinks he's lost, you're stuck thinking about the conversation. You hate yourself for considering talking with Sirius. But you miss him so much, it would be nice to just talk to him for a little bit. You don't have to forgive him.

That's not a good idea. You know that you will forgive him if he starts trying to explain himself again. You won't let yourself be hurt like that again.

Although, your inner debate lasts for days and you find yourself in a similar position to Sirius's - rotting away in your bed, refusing to talk to anyone. You're grateful that it is midday on a Wednesday because there is no one around when you finally get yourself out of bed and out for a walk.

Your feet take you to an old spot that you and Sirius frequented. There's a big oak tree that overlooks the black lake. You and him would often bring a picnic out here or you'd come out here and cuddle away from prying eyes. You hate it here now.

And you hate it even more when you get closer, crunching a leaf under your foot, and scaring the boy sitting against the trunk. Sirius jolts up, rubbing at his eyes as he adjusts to the light.

"Did you sleep out here?"

"N-not for very long, only got here a little bit ago."

You nod idly, beginning to turn on your heel to leave when he reaches out for you. His hand grabs yours and the look on his face nearly has your resolve breaking.

"Can we talk, please? Just give me five minutes," he pleads, not letting go of your hand until he sees you nod your head. You pull your hand from his and go sit down on his blanket. He joins you. It feels just like old times if you don't think about all the hurt and cruel words spoken to each other.

"I miss you so much," he starts, noticing the way your arms are crossed over your chest and you're sitting as far as you can from him, "And I am so sorry that I treated you the way that I did. I should have grown a pair and asked you out properly but I didn't. I fucked up so bad. I hate that you're not talking to me. And I hate that I deserve it. You obviously don't have to forgive me but I just needed to talk to you."

His hands are shaky as they rest in his lap. You're not saying anything and he wants to cry. You hate him and you'll never forgive him and he wants to steal a time-turner.

"You made me feel so special, Sirius. All I wanted was for you to ask me out. And when I say that is all I wanted I mean that that is all I wanted. You made me think that I would get that one day. Seeing you with other girls made me think that I was just a joke to you. I feel so stupid. And I feel any stupider that I miss you."

"If you give me a chance, I'll prove to you how much I love you. I know you have no reason to believe me but I want to show you."

"Y-you love me?" Your voice is shaky and you curse yourself. His face drops and if you weren't so shocked, you would've laughed. He doesn't try to backtrack instead just sitting there, eyes trained on the blanket pattern.

You were screwed from the beginning of this conversation. You knew you shouldn't have stayed and listened.

"If you hurt me, Sirius, you won't survive it," you threaten, pushing yourself into his lap. He can't believe it and tears sting at the corners of his eyes. He knows it's embarrassing but it feels so good to have you touching him again. "I love you, too."

[lees-chaotic-brain]

hall pass?! (pt. one, ft. yuuji itadori)

summary: you explain the concept of a hall pass to him, then decide to play a little prank on him...

cw: cheating i guess, except no one actually cheats, fluff, crack, not beta read

word count: 614

note: hi guys i have emerged to post this before slithering back to where i came from. i promise i have actual fics in the makings. thank you for being so patient with me, i love you all <33. this is also inspired by a youtube short i saw a LONG time ago, but if any of you know what i'm talking about and don't mind sending me the link that would be amazing!! also at some point i'll probably make this a mini series with a couple of other characters!!

jjk masterlist | blog navigation

"Hey, Yuu." He perks up at the sound of your voice. "What's up?"

"I just realized we haven't talked about hall passes. Do you know what they are?"

He tilts his head slightly to the side as he considers the question. "I think so. Nobara explained them to me once. It's like a free pass to sleep with one person who's not your partner without consequences, right?"

"Pretty much. The only other thing is you have to establish who that one person is beforehand, so you can't just randomly cheat and claim it was your hall pass."

"Okay..." He looks a little confused. "But why are we talking about hall passes? I only want to be with you..."

Your heart melts, and you feel a little bad about where you were going with this line of conversation but you hadn't pranked him in a little while. "I know baby, but I'm curious. If you had to pick someone, who would it be?"

"Jennifer Lawrence, obviously, but only because I had a massive crush on her when I was a teenager and I know it will never happen."

"That makes sense." You nod, trying not to smile. He was a little bit too predictable at times.

"But what about you?" He blurts. "Who would your hall pass be?"

"Oh me?" You do your best to sound nonchalant. "Probably John."

"John? Who's John?"

"Oh, just some guy I work with." You glance at your phone as if you're checking the time. "Speaking of which, I need to go meet up with him to discuss something right about now."

Getting up from the couch, you sling your bag over your shoulder head towards the front door, leaving your poor boyfriend sitting on the couch, gobsmacked.

"Anyways, see you later babe! This might take a little while so don't wait up for me-"

180 pounds of sunshine and muscle tackle you to the ground before you can even make it to your shoes. You lay sandwiched between the cold hardwood floor and the warm weight of your boyfriend, completely unable to move.

"Yuuji?? What are you doing..."

"DON'T GO!" He nuzzles into the back of your neck, and you can feel the pout on his lips.

"I'm sorry I said I would sleep with Jennifer Lawrence if I could get the chance. Please don't go and hang out with John...I love you."

The desperation in his voice breaks your resolve, and you give in. "Yuuji...baby...it was a prank. I'm sorry."

He freezes, then you can feel all the tension leave his body as he cuddles up against your back. "Oh. That's good. It wasn't very funny though."

"I know. I'm sorry." You attempt to shift, trying to alleviate the painful press of the hardwood floors against your hip bones. "Could you maybe get off though? The ground hurts and I do actually need to meet up with John, who's a sixty five year old man I do NOT find attractive in any shape or form."

"I don't care." He presses himself harder against you, but you notice that he slips his arms between you and the floor to cushion you. "I won't let you go until you promise to take me with you."

Glancing at the clock, you realize you're going to be late unless you leave within the next two minutes.

"Fine...you can come. But you have to be on your best behavior and leave us alone, okay?"

"Okay!"

As you walk to your meeting with your boyfriend happily bouncing along at your side, you can't help but regret your past decisions.

That was the last prank you pulled for a little while.

taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight @hotvinimon @m0k0k0 @starlightanyaaa

[kckt88]

You Really Got Me.

Summary:

After being dragged to a club by his brother, Aemond meets the girl of his dreams.

Warning(s): Alcohol, Flirting, Banter, Kissing, Smut, Oral Sex M & F Recieving, Multiple Orgasms, P in V sex.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x Y.N

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 3384

A.N - Shout out to @zeciex for suggesting I write this!!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

As the bass thumped through the club, Aemond Targaryen leaned back against the plush leather booth, a tumbler of amber liquid swirling in his hand. His older brother Aegon was at it again, prowling the dance floor in search of his next conquest, his laughter mingling with the music and the chatter of the crowd.

Aemond couldn't help but shake his head at Aegon's antics, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Some things never changed, no matter how old they got. But then, his attention was caught by a figure sitting at the bar.

She was captivating, with long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders and a leather jacket over her dress only adding an edge to her ensemble.

Her fingers tapped against her thigh in time with the beat, a subtle rhythm that drew Aemond's gaze like a moth to flame and he found himself unable to look away.

As the music pulsed around them, Aemond felt a surge of courage wash over him. With a glance towards his brother, who was still lost in his pursuit, he made his decision. Setting down his drink, he straightened his jacket and approached the bar, a newfound determination in his step.

It had been a good few months since he’d last took a woman to his bed and tonight, he would take a chance, and see where the night would lead.

With a steady resolve, Aemond made his way through the pulsating crowd towards the bar where the captivating woman sat. As he approached, he couldn't help but admire the graceful way she moved to the music, her presence commanding attention.

Just as he was about to speak, fate intervened in the form of a misstep.

The woman turned at the wrong moment, her sudden movement catching Aemond off guard. Before he could react, their paths collided, and the contents of her drink went tumbling through the air, splashing across the front of his shirt.

"Whoa, I'm so sorry!" Aemond exclaimed, his hand instinctively reaching out to steady her as they both stumbled back from the collision.

The woman's eyes widened in surprise, a look of mortification crossing her features as she took in the mess they had created. "Oh gods, I didn't see you there," she apologized, her voice tinged with embarrassment.

"It's alright, really," Aemond reassured her, offering a warm smile despite the dampness seeping through his shirt. "Accidents happen."

Together, they shared a rueful laugh, the tension of the moment dissipating into shared amusement.

As they both cleaned up the mess, the woman offered a sheepish smile. "I'm Y.N," she introduced herself, her voice soft but carrying a hint of warmth.

"Aemond," he replied, offering his hand with a gentle shake. "Nice to meet you, Y.N, despite the unconventional start."

Y.N's smile widened, a glint of amusement sparkling in her eyes. "Likewise, Aemond. And I must say, you handle unexpected collisions quite well."

Aemond chuckled, a hint of colour rising to his cheeks. "Years of practice," he quipped, enjoying the easy banter that flowed between them.

Feeling a sense of camaraderie growing between them, Aemond gestured towards the bar. "Can I make it up to you by buying you another drink?" he offered, hoping to extend their conversation beyond the initial mishap.

Y.N's lips curved into a playful grin. "I suppose that would be fair compensation," she teased, a sparkle of mischief dancing in her eyes.

With a shared laugh, they made their way to the bar, the music and chatter of the club fading into the background as they continued to get to know each other.

As they settled into a more intimate corner of the club, Aemond and Y.N continued their conversation, their laughter blending seamlessly with the music.

"So, what brought you here tonight?" Aemond asked, genuinely curious about the woman sitting across from him.

Y.N's expression softened, a hint of wistfulness crossing her features. "Honestly, I was just about to leave," she confessed, her voice tinged with a touch of disappointment. "My friends bailed on me, and I didn't really fancy staying here alone."

Aemond's brows furrowed sympathetically, but a playful twinkle lit up his eye. "Well, I suppose luck was on my side then," he remarked with a charming smile. "Because you're not alone anymore."

Y.N's lips curled into a smile, touched by his sincerity. "I suppose you're right," she conceded, a warmth blossoming in her chest at his words.

As the night wore on and their conversation deepened, Aemond and Y.N found themselves drawn to each other in ways they hadn't expected. With each shared laugh and exchanged glance, the spark of attraction between them ignited into a blazing flame.

Aemond leaned in closer, his voice low and husky as he teased Y.N with playful banter. "You know, I must say, you're quite the captivating presence," he remarked, a hint of admiration in his tone.

Y.N's cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and delight as she returned his gaze, her eyes sparkling with a newfound confidence. "Flattery will get you everywhere," she quipped, her smile playful yet inviting.

Their flirtatious exchange continued, a dance of words and glances that spoke volumes without the need for further explanation.

Aemond couldn't deny the magnetic pull he felt towards Y.N, her wit and charm captivating him in ways he hadn't anticipated. And as he watched her laugh and playfully toss her hair, he knew that he wanted nothing more than to explore where this newfound attraction would lead.

For Y.N, the feeling was mutual, her heart racing with excitement as she found herself falling deeper under Aemond's spell. In his presence, she felt alive in a way she hadn't in a long time, her every nerve tingling with anticipation.

As the night progressed and the chemistry between them intensified, Y.N found herself drawn to the subtle intricacies of Aemond's appearance. With a gentle touch, she reached out to tuck a stray strand of his long, silver hair behind his ear, her fingertips lingering against his skin.

"You know," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "You have to be one of the most beautiful men I've ever seen."

Aemond's breath caught in his throat at her words, a rush of warmth flooding through him at the sincerity in her gaze. He met her eyes, his own blue orbs reflecting a depth of emotion that words could scarcely capture.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice tinged with a mixture of humility and gratitude. "That's-quite the compliment."

Y.N smiled, her gaze softening as she took in the sight of him. "I mean it," she insisted, her fingers trailing lightly along his jawline. "Your sharp features, the colour of your eye-it’s truly mesmerizing".

“-And the eyepatch and scar?” mused Aemond.

“Proves that you’re a survivor” replied Y.N smiling.

Y.N's gaze lingered on Aemond's profile, the soft glow of the club's lights casting gentle shadows across his features.

With a small smile playing at the corners of her lips, she couldn't help but voice her admiration.

"You know, Aemond, your side profile is absolutely incredible," she remarked, her voice hushed yet filled with genuine appreciation.

Aemond turned to face her, a faint blush tinting his cheeks at the unexpected compliment. "Really?" he replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and pleasure.

Y.N nodded, her eyes tracing the elegant curve of his jawline and the noble slope of his nose. "Yes, really," she affirmed, her tone earnest. "There's something about the way the light catches your features-it's like you were sculpted by an artist."

Aemond's heart fluttered at her words, a warmth spreading through him at the sincerity in her gaze. In Y.N's eyes, he felt seen in a way that went beyond mere physical appearance, a recognition of the uniqueness that defined him.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with gratitude.

Aemond found himself unable to resist the magnetic pull drawing him closer to Y.N. With a silent exchange of longing glances, they closed the distance between them, their lips meeting in a fervent kiss that ignited a firestorm of passion between them.

In that moment, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of Y.N's lips against his own, soft yet electrifying. Aemond's heart thundered in his chest as he deepened the kiss, his hands instinctively finding their way to Y.N's waist, pulling her closer to him.

Y.N responded eagerly, her arms winding around Aemond's neck as she melted into his embrace.

As their kiss finally broke, leaving them both breathless and flushed with desire, Aemond gazed into Y.N's eyes, a question lingering unspoken between them.

"Y.N," he began, his voice husky with emotion, "Would you like to-go back to my flat?"

Y.N's lips curved into a knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Yes," she whispered, her voice filled with a quiet longing that mirrored his own.

With a surge of elation coursing through him, Aemond took her hand in his, his fingers intertwining with hers as they made their way through the throng of people towards the exit.

As they reached the door, Aemond fumbled for his keys, his fingers trembling with anticipation. With a satisfying click, the door swung open, and they stumbled into the dimly lit interior, their bodies pressed together as their kisses grew deeper, more urgent.

“A-Are you sure?” asked Aemond.

“Yes, I’m sure-“ replied Y.N as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him for another kiss, the tongues gently caressing one another.

Aemond’s hands then slipped her leather jacket off her shoulders and draped it over the back of a chair before he took her face in his hands and ran his tongue over her lips, eliciting a low moan from Y.N.

His long fingers sliding up the back of her neck and into her hair, his forehead resting against hers.

“So beautiful” whispered Aemond.

“I-I want to see you” muttered Y.N softly.

Aemond hesitated, he never took his eyepatch off around anyone except his mother, brothers, and sister.

But there was something about Y.N that instantly made him feel comfortable, so with a deep breath Aemond slipped his fingers under the strap of his eyepatch and pulled it from his head.

Y.N stood silent she stared at the scar the bisected his cheek, extending through his eyebrow. The sapphire that he’d placed in the eye socket, glinted in the moonlight.

“You are-so-beautiful” whispered Y.N as she leaned forward and placed a number of kisses along his scarred cheek and over the sapphire.

Aemond closed his eye in delight at the tender gesture, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

“Hmmm” rasped Aemond as he ran his thumb over Y.N’s bottom lip, his eye going wide as she opened her mouth and nipped at his thumb before sucking it into her mouth.

Aemond could feel his eye roll into the back of head, fuck his cock was throbbing.

“Please-“ moaned Y.N

Aemond removed his thumb and quickly shed his jacket before throwing it on the sofa.

Wasting no time, he pulled Y.N to him, his lips once again claiming hers.

He put his arm around her waist and kissed her passionately, deepening the kiss as she moaned into his mouth. His tongue pushing against hers.

Y.N ran her fingers across his lithe body. His muscles rippled under her fingertips.

She unbuttoned the white shirt he wore, placing feathery kisses on his sparsely haired chest as the shirt was removed.

Her fingers toying with the silver cross chain he wore.

Groaning against her creamy smooth skin, he kissed her neck, sucking on the delicate flesh as she leaned into him, enjoying his every touch.

Her dress felt heavy on her. She wanted to be rid of it. She wanted to feel his skin on hers. She reluctantly broke free of his embrace and turned her back to him moving her hair out of the way.

His fingers trembled as he grasped the zip to her dress and pulled it down, the sound echoed through the quiet apartment, and he pressed his lips to the back of her neck.

Using his long fingers, he freed her from the confinements of her dress, and it fell to join his shirt on the floor.

She wasn’t wearing a bra, which excited him to no end.

Goosebumps appeared where his fingers moved over her. Cupping her ample breasts from behind, Aemond pulled Y.N against his chest. Burying himself in the crook of her neck, sucking on the skin whilst his fingers massaged the soft mounds and played with her hardened nipples.

Aemond turned her to face him. Kissing her again, he trailed kisses down her body and took a rosy nipple in his mouth. Sucking on the aroused bud, he bit down lightly, earning a low moan from deep within her.

He continued his actions on the other breast and kissed past her stomach until he knelt before her. Her fingers in his hair tightened as he ran the tips of his fingers from her stomach down to her core.

Slowly he hooked his thumbs on the sides of her knickers and pulled them down.

 Fuck she was dripping, and it was all for him. He could not wait to taste her. Somehow, he knew she would taste delicious.

Y.N delicately stepped out of the lacy material, and Aemond's long fingers grasped her buttocks. His fingers dug into her delicate flesh.

He felt her lean in eagerly. Gently he swiped his tongue across her hairless pussy, instant gratification as her fingers tightened their hold on his head, and a low moan left her lips.

Aemond smirked. Using his tongue, he gained access to her wet, pink folds. She tasted fucking amazing. Aemond enthusiastically ran his tongue along her slit, flicking his tongue over her swollen clit.

Y.N effortlessly placed a leg on his shoulder, spreading her thighs for better access. Oh, how he welcomed it.

Her clit was a swollen mass of pleasure waiting to explode. He pressed his tongue hard on it and sucked on her pulsating womanhood. Again and again, he felt her squirm. He felt her heat, she was so close.

Y.N felt the flow of heat accumulate behind her navel as she hovered on the cusp of orgasm. She let out a loud moan as she intricately spun a bundle of nerves that exploded within her.

"Fuck!" Y.N cried and buckled under the weight of her release.

Wave upon wave of unbridled passion unleashed within her as an earth-shattering orgasm tore throughout her body. Her slick juices dripped down his lips and chin. He didn't stop until she was utterly spent.

Pushing his tongue further in, he fucked her with his tongue till her orgasm ceased.

"Aemond," whimpered Y.N as she began to wobble.

Smirking, Aemond rose to his feet and kissed her, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

Y.N regained her composure and keenly clung to him, returning his kisses while undoing the button of his trousers.

Not skipping a single step as she directed him backwards towards the sofa.

Kissing him full on the mouth, her fingers stroked his body, not missing an inch of flesh.

She marvelled at the feel of his body. It was so lithe and fit. Trailing kisses past his stomach, she came face to face with his sizeable bulge.

Biting down on her lip, kneeling between his legs she pulled his trousers and boxers down his shapely legs and threw them next to her.

Even in the dim light, Aemond could see she was impressed. His rock-hard shaft stood up, eagerly awaiting its reward.

Y.N bent her head and licked a line from his balls to his pulsating head.

Aemond groaned aloud as she clasped her fingers around his girth and moved her hand up and down the hard shaft. Y.N enjoyed his slow torture. She smirked and licked the underside of his cock.

"Y.N-" whimpered Aemond.

His eye closed, and he felt her tongue at his head, licking the pre-cum that oozed out.

Without warning, she took him in whole, deep-throating his length. Aemond knew he would not last, he could not hold back any longer, but gods he did not want her to stop.

She was sucking on him, her lips tightening around his cock as she built a beautiful pace.

"NO!" groaned Aemond and Y.N withdrew.

She barely had time to react. Before he grabbed her around the waist and moved her on top.

“I-have condoms-somewhere” mumbled Aemond.

“I’m on the pill and clean-“ exclaimed Y.N her eyes going wide as Aemond lined up his cock with her entrance and sheathed himself inside her with one hard thrust.

Y.N moaned as Aemond withdrew and entered into her repeatedly.

Faster and faster. Harder and deeper, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.

"Please don't stop," cried out Y.N

"I have no intention of stopping" growled Aemond, his feet planted firmly on the floor to allow him to increase the intensity of his thrusts.

A satisfied smile spread across his face as he quickened and angled his movements, so his cock rubbed on that special place inside her.

Aemond was mesmerized by the sight of Y.N’s breasts bouncing in front of him and unbale to resist any longer he surged forward, his mouth wrapping around one rosy bud.

His teeth and tongue teasing the stiffened peak.

“Gods-yes Aemond” shrieked Y.N as she bounced on his cock, her hands coiled in is long silver hair.

“That’s it baby-take it-take all of me” growled Aemond leaning back as he moved Y.N’s hips in time with his thrusts.

“Oh gods-” wailed Y.N.

“That’s it-FUCK Y.N” groaned Aemond as he took hold of her and quickly manoeuvred her onto her back, his cock never leaving the warm wetness of her as he began to pound into her, the sounds of skin slapping on skin echoing around his apartment.

“P-Please Aemond. Don’t stop. Don’t stop-“ whimpered Y.N.

“Come for me baby-come for me” growled Aemond as he felt her clenching around him.

“AEMOND” screamed Y.N as she exploded, her nails digging into his back.

Aemond held back for as long as he could, but his release was upon him.

Surrounded by her wetness, he closed his eye.

With a final hard thrust, he spilled rope after rope of his seed.

He muffled his groans into her mouth as she hung onto him, kissing him fervently.

Only once she milked him dry did he collapse on top of her. She held him close to her body, whispering words of comfort and satisfaction while running her fingers down his back.

The sweat on his back stung against the scraps her nails made.

As they lay entwined on the sofa, their bodies bare and glistening with the remnants of their shared passion, Aemond and Y.N savoured the quiet intimacy of the moment. The soft glow of moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle halo around their entangled forms.

Aemond's fingers traced lazy patterns across Y.N's skin, his touch tender and reverent as he explored the contours of her body.

With a contented sigh, he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, his heart overflowing with gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that had brought them together.

In the stillness of the night, a silent thanks drifted through Aemond's mind, directed towards Aegon, who had unwittingly led him to the club where he had found Y.N.

Aemond couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't want this to be just another fleeting encounter. With Y.N nestled against him, her warmth radiating against his skin, he felt a longing stir within him—a desire to see her again, to explore the depths of their connection beyond the confines of this single night.

Gathering his courage, Aemond brushed a stray lock of hair from Y.N's face, his voice soft yet resolute. "Y.N," he began, his heart pounding in his chest, "I don't want this to end here. Would you-would you like to go on a date with me?"

Y.N's eyes lit up with delight, a soft giggle escaping her lips as she looked up at him with a sparkle of excitement. "Yes," she replied, her voice brimming with warmth and affection. "I would love to."

[kitkats-and-kittens]

I hate both the ways fannon (and now cannon) is slowly beginning to present the Al Ghuls.

On one hand you have the people who make Ra’s and Talia almost cartoonishly evil. Which is annoying because it does a disservice to both their characters, is usually rooted in very racist stereotypes and is also used to present Damian’s family as two conflicting sides. You’ve got his evil, horrible, no good Al Ghul family roots and then his perfect, holier than thou batfamily side.

Its especially annoying because in recent comics the batfamily hasn’t been treating him much better. With the amount of times he’s just up and left on secret missions you think they’d be taking care of the literal 14 year old. It’s just so dumb and incredibly one dimensional.

Then on the other hand you have people who absolve them of all guilt. Although I love good Grandfather Ra’s Al Ghul and good mom Talia it’s still not entirely accurate. I prefer it to making them just unrealistically evil, but you can like these characters and still accept that Damian was abused by them.

Ik Dc struggled with media literacy, but despite how it’s presented online abusive situations are not nearly as cut and dry as shown on TV. It’s not always ‘oh my dad beats me every day and I hate him’. Sometimes parents love their kids despite being bad for them, sometimes kids love their parents despite the way they’re treated. Sometimes these situations resolve themselves and sometimes they don’t.

I’ve always seen Damian’s relationship with Ra’s and Talia as complex and maybe I’m projecting a little, but I love the comics that take on a more nuanced perspective of the way he grew up. Personally my headcanon is that while Ra’s and Talia were both bad when Damian was growing up, giving him to Bruce kind of opened their eyes to the realisation that if they didn’t treat him better he was going to leave which kickstarts both the redemption arc and improving their relationship.

And ik it’s a bit beyond Dc, but I really hope they’ll drop the racist attitude towards the Al Ghuls. Tim stans too cause honestly the ‘Ra’s is obsessed with this pathetic little white boy’ is actually so problematic, but that’s a whole other conversation.

[yuri-is-online]

I love the Fyuuture kid au. Could I ask for Ace!yutu, the idea of Yutu getting second hand embarrassment at Ace's flirting attempts makes me laugh so much, just yutu standing there watching ace self sabotage himself when it comes to Yuu wondering how Yuu and Ace managed to get together in the future. (Yutu has definitely judged his father a few times in silence)

Another thing that lives rent free in my head when thinking of Ace and Yutu is when Ace finds out that Yuu is basically dead in the future. That has to be a crushing discovering for him considering that he's (and Deuce) very protective of Yuu

(also the idea of Deuce's future co workers deciding that Yuu is a danger and basically cursed Yuu to die has to make him feel uneasy about weather he'd want to work for a company that basically sentenced Yuu to die once everything is resolved but that's a conversation for another day)

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here.

Slight bit of clarification, the Magical Marshall's appear to be a government organization, or perhaps a type of law enforcement that each government has?  The way Deuce spoke about it made me think they sound similar to a counter terrorism unit, but either way your point still stands.  While Deuce never gets the complete picture of what happened to Yuu, he still knows in his heart it was his office that hurt them, and it's extremely difficult for him to live with.  The office stands by it's decision to the bitter end, no matter what he says or how many monster attacks are reported.  And if he gets too annoying, well they already made you disappear.

And with that lovely thought let's talk about Ace!

Ace! Yutu is a fairly normal kid.  He doesn't really have friends, maybe a discord buddy or two who he plays games with, but no one he really trusts to talk with about his family situation.  And he does see it as a situation, Yuu might be doing their best to make things normal for the two of them but the entire situation just stinks.  Yutu knows there's something wrong with it but he can't put his finger on what…

Very smart.  He taught himself how to count cards and got in trouble at school more than once for running blackjack games where he took a bunch of money from his classmates.  Not his fault they suck at cards!  And sure he could just cheat like normal (he's just as good at cutting the deck as dear old dad) but it's much more fun to do something technically legal.  It makes people that much more mad, which he finds really funny.

He tries to not talk about his dad that much, though he might make a joke or two about fatherless behavior. Much like Cater! Yutu, he assumes that his dad is probably dead and while he's very curious, he's reluctant to poke at Yuu's memories for fear of causing them more pain.  When he does think about his dad he tends to romanticize things, Yuu's description of him makes their relationship sound really sweet.  Marrying his best friend sounds great to Yutu, his dad must have felt really lucky to have managed to obtain that.

Getting isekaid doesn't phase this Yutu at all.  He was already so convinced something was off back in your world, learning he was a mage and all about Yuu's adventures just confirms all of his assumptions. Getting placed into Heartslabyul and being told that was Ace's dorm thrills him, doubly so when he gives Crewel his first migraine and gets told he's just like him. That's not to say Yutu is completely happy about his situation; his father is dead (Yutu refuses to acknowledge the monster wearing his face as a person) and Yuu effectively died ages ago, the curse placed on them just drew it out for a cruel amount of time. Yutu's angry, and what's worse is that he doesn't really have one person he can fix the blame on. He wishes Yuu or Ace were alive so he could ask who they blame, who he needs to seek out to get them justice. When the others propose traveling back in time he leaps at it without a second thought.

Crewel does try to tell Yutu about his dad, but his descriptions sort of go over Yutu's head until he actually meets him. To be fair to Yutu, he's not completely off in his assumptions about how Ace felt about Yuu, it's obvious that Ace was smitten with his parent from the start but he doesn't fully understand the denial Crewel is talking about. The blot monster Ace became is very cocky, and excels at misdirection so why would he be shy about flirting with Yuu?

Well maybe shy isn't the right word for whatever he's looking at now. Ace is reluctant to leave Yuu's side, but he has so many excuses as to why that it hurts his soul, wouldn't it just be easier to say "because I'm worried about you?" Instead of insulting Yuu's ability to take care of themselves and joking about you needing him but only joking! It's not like he really wants you to! And don't get him STARTED on all the little excuses Ace finds to touch you. It makes him seriously reconsider his whole opinion on wanting to marry his best friend thing because god if this is level of pathetic what it takes he doesn't think he could cope.

He assumes (maybe correctly) that Yuu is the one who made a move on Ace and that's how they got together in his timeline, something that high-key offends Ace when he finds out and he encourages you to be honest with Ace if you ever open up about your frustrations with him. That doesn't mean he ever gives Ace a break though, Ace is already suspicious of Yutu's intentions towards Yuu but his constant dunking on him has earned him Deuce's respect, so now he's lost both of his friends! What the hell guys you're supposed to be on his side!

Ace's distrust of Yutu doesn't bother Trappola Jr at all. On the contrary he thinks it's a good thing, the more he interacts with the first year group the more he appreciates how solid of a head Ace has on his shoulders. It doesn't make up for him being cringe, but it does make Yutu think he could maybe trust his dad with the truth.

I don't think any of the boys take the reveal of what Yutu's future is like well, but Ace's is especially bad. He thinks about all of the close calls he has seen you have, how afraid he was when he got those messages from you over Winter break, the S.T.Y.X. attack, every overblot he has ever seen, and now his own child is telling him that you made it through all that and his bad attempts at flirting but didn't get a happy ending. He has the same set of emotions that Yutu does, anger and grief that he has no one to really blame for. Yutu is sad he doesn't have an answer but grateful he isn't alone anymore.

The reveal makes Ace's teasing actually insufferable, he's so fucking cocky now that he knows you liiiiiike him back. See that boy over there? Actually living proof that you're into him, kinda cringe actually! He bets you used to have a crush on him too (just turn it around on him if you're in public he will melt.)

They like to try and out play each other in cards, Ace can't card count but he is better at reading people and better at cutting the deck so they have a pretty even win loss ratio. Yutu isn't above whining to Yuu about how his dad is being mean if he's on a losing streak, something that makes Ace fold quicker than he'd like. Neither of them will ever admit it out loud but they have a silent competition for your affection, Ace thinks you should be cheering for him since he's your future husband and Yutu thinks that you should cheer for him because he is capable of being honest about his emotions. When Grim starts whining for attention they call a truce and fight him instead.

Speaking of Grim, he has a relatively good opinion of Yutu in general based off seeing him as Henchuman 2 but when he finds out Ace is his dad? Respect ended he always knew that Yutu kid was a loser... all those times he refused to get him tuna make so much more sense now!

Learning about the future makes Ace even more protective of Yuu, and he doesn't make it much of a secret either. There's something about learning that your partner is supposed to die that makes you care a lot less about what your classmates think. That protectiveness extends to Yutu, but Ace is a bit more subtle with that. He understands that he isn't the version of himself that the kid needs to hear from, that he might not be able to give Yutu the support he needs but he loves the kid so much it sort of scares him. He's really looking forward to getting to be with Yuu and Yutu in the future, and if that means he has to put a little extra work in then so be it.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#22: The Trouble in 'Paradise' (1.03)

gif cred: @perryabbott

Rick's note in the getaway boat didn't get Michonne to leave...but it did get Dana Bethune to disappear 😋...

After breaking Michonne’s heart the night before in an attempt to save her, Rick is walking around in his CRM uniform and approaches Jadis with a salute. Jadis says, “State your business, soldier” and Rick informs her, “She’s gone. And you’re helping me make her stay gone.”

Jadis, who seems to be more aware than Rick rn that Michonne would never just leave him here, asks, “How is she gone?” Rick answers, “I made it look like she died trying. I know I needed to stay to get her away so I’m here.”

It’s interesting how Rick seems so resolved about this. Like I know the night of the getaway he had to be in his apartment a whole devastated mess about what he’s had to do to get Michonne home, but now in front of Jadis, he’s not going to show her how much it pained him to have to send her away and stay stuck here.

Also, Rick has been in sacrifice mode for literal years and so I think he’s just swallowed this Michonne sendoff as yet another sacrifice he has to make as the dead man who gets no personal wins that he’s been living as.

Jadis, who for once in her life is onto something says, “She actually left without you. I don’t believe that, Rick.” Lol I think Jadis really thinks Rick is pulling a fast one and lying about Michonne leaving but no, Rick has got himself so convinced that tricking her to leave was for the best and that Michonne would actually do it and leave. It's another indicator that it's clearly been some years and he's gotten a little hazy on remembering Michonne would never just leave him in the dead of night like that.

gif cred: @taiturner

Rick responds, “She didn’t know she was leaving without me.” And I was like - Rick, doesn’t that break your heart? Cuz it breaks mine. Knowing that the only reason Michonne ‘left’ was because she trusted his plan and thought he was coming with her. And now as far as he knows she’s had to mourn losing her husband yet again. And this time because he seemingly ‘wanted’ it that way.

That's gotta hurt Rick to think about, but again I think Rick is so laser-focused on how this is how it has to be that I don’t think he’s letting himself even fully process how hurtful what he did is to Michonne. 

Jadis asks if Rick still wants to kill her, calling back to their conversation earlier when she says, “You still see that?” Rick starts nearing his full petty form when he says, “Maybe I was just dreaming” suggesting killing her would be a dream lol. And then he calls back to Negan and Jadis' old saying, “People are a resource.”

He continues, “You’re part of this now.” and quotes Jadis saying, “‘Our fates are bound.” I know he’s basically like 'look, I need you to help sell this story of what happened to Dana and that is the only reason you get to live another day.'

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

Rick tells Jadis how he found a walker body close enough to Michonne's, put it in a consignment uniform, and tore its face and scalp off. He says the story is Dana fell, hit her head on the rocks and walkers got her. Then he gives Jadis some orders saying, “You just make sure you’re on the investigation as soon as they find out she’s missing.”

I was like buddy, they aren’t going to find out she’s missing but you are going to find out who your wife is after maybe getting a little hazy about Michonne Grimes. 😅

Jadis says she’ll “make sure to be on point when Dana goes gone” and also that her hands are clean if anything goes down. Then she says, “And if you do want to make your dream come true - kill me while we’re nose to nose. I already left them all the answers you don’t want them to have.” Don't tempt us with a good time now, Jadis.

Also, the way Rick stares at her and subtly rolls his eyes before walking away, it's like you can see the moment the hair insult pops in his head before he says it lol. 🤭

And then Jadis tries Richonne to capacity yet again when she has the audacity to tell Rick, “You say you did it for her. I’m sure that that is true but I wonder if it isn’t something else that's keeping you here. Again, I did save your life.” Disgusting. 😒 I know that serpent didn’t just try to imply that Rick might've sent Michonne away because he had the hots for the trash lady/his captor. She lost her damn mind with that comment. Truly. 🙃

gif cred: @jake-wheeler

Rick gives Jadis' suggestive comment no mind as he just brings it back to Michonne and says, “Well now you get to save hers.”

gif cred: @jake-wheeler

And then Petty Rick reaches his final form with this...

gif cred: @nerd4music

And the eyebrow-raise tho. 🤭 He knows he ate her up. Lol this moment had me dying and I love how this is Rick’s way of letting Jadis know that not even in her dreams would he be staying here cuz he wants her.

gif cred: @nerd4music

And the way Jadis reacts, it seems like Rick knew the right button to push cuz she smiles but looks offended as she walks away. And honestly, I’m here for Rick throwing shade because Jadis’ little slick comments and come-ons - that I don’t even think are rooted in actually liking him but more rooted in liking that it makes him uncomfortable - are harassment and so she needed to step all the way back. ✋🏽

gif cred: @taiturner

The second Jadis walks off, Rick gets a vibrating notification from Pearl. He comes over to the consignee area and stands at attention behind Pearl who's watching the consignees with her arms crossed and a scowl.

She turns to Rick and says, “You’re in real trouble now Sergeant Major'' and yes he is…just not with the CRM lol. 🙂

gif cred: @nat111love

The way Rick is looking at Pearl like 'what now?' not even realizing that who he’s in real trouble with is actually among the consignees. But he quickly realizes once he looks out and sees the baddest chick in the game on a walker-killing rampage.

gif cred: @nat111love

And then Rick's face lol. 🤭 I’m glad that now I can watch and laugh and kiki over all this cuz with my first watch, everything was just making me overwhelmed cuz both my poor babies are going through it. 🫠

But now it cracks me up to see Rick realize the only person who thought Michonne was out of here was him. Cuz she is very much still in this place and not even as Dana anymore but as Michonne Grimes herself. 😬

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne is clearly frustrated as she takes out these walkers and honestly, it really tracks with her character to be like this right now since killing walkers has always been one of the ways she processes emotions. Season 3 at Woodbury. Season 4 after the prison fell. Season 5 when out with Sasha and Rosita. And in season 9 during restless nights when she couldn’t sleep. So with so much to process after Rick’s note in the getaway boat, it makes sense she’d be going ham on the walkers during her shift. 

And again I declare my client innocent of all claims that she’s being ‘dumb’ or whatever people say for not playing the B role. Is she showing who she is right now? - yes. But she knows that and the thing is...she doesn’t care to hide rn. She’s seen the way this place tries to strip you of who you are. They stripped the strongest man she knows - Rick - of who he is and made him lose his mind to the point that he thought he could just send her away and she’d leave.

So I really think she’s just not having it. She’s over the CRM. This place doesn’t get to make her bury herself thus losing herself - a pain worse than death as Rick would attest.

gif cred: @nat111love

And also she’s allowed to let emotions get the best of her sometimes as she is understandably pissed. The man she loves and trusts most, the man she's sacrificed so much to find, just tried to abruptly send her away for good and basically told her that leaving him behind is the one way to show she loves him. That is a special kind of hurt that could stir up many blinding emotions.

Plus, it’s been what? over a decade of an apocalypse. It's really not crazy that she'd be a pro at taking out walkers by now. Even Eugene is a pro at walker-killing at this point. 🤷🏽‍♀️

Now, yes, the way she's killing them is too A-ish. But idk, the CRM should just be grateful she's doing this to walkers and not soldiers if you ask me lol.

As Michonne stays focused on taking out as many walkers as possible, consignees like Cleo and others stop to take notice and admire Michonne, impressed. And then Rick sorta nods like 'yep that’s Michonne 🙂'...but also 'yep that’s Michonne, not a Dana in sight.😟'

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne comes out of kill mode to catch her breath, paying no mind to the other consignees' oohs and ahhs, just like Rick when he broke the kill record. And then she looks up and sees Rick and gives him a look that shows she is not going to be playing around with this man.

gif cred: @nat111love

Pearl notes how Michonne said during intake that she was looking for safety in numbers and that helped her make her case. And then she says, “Thing is, she doesn’t look like someone who relies on others for safety.” And one; can I just reiterate that I love that we have a show where Richonne drives every scene of the plot. It’s great. 🤩

Also, I like the irony of this line because Pearl is actually looking at the only man Michonne does look to for safety.

As Pearl stares at Rick, clearly very hesitant about this whole Dana situation, Rick just stays quiet. Pearl walks away and then Rick looks out and sees Michonne is the last one standing and staring Rick down in a way that would have anybody shaking in their boots before she just walks away.

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne's look said, 'that's right, Rick...

Then I really love the pan up to the 'Grimes 68' on the wall. It implies that the kill record has just been broken and while they have to change the number now, they don’t have to change the last name.

And of course, the Grimes are the ones to set new records up in this place. The only person who could beat Rick’s years-long record is his wife. 

gif cred: @chaoticroad

So then Michonne is walking and she hears Rick say, “Keep walking” and I always smile seeing how she hears that and immediately stops walking lol. It just instantly tells you the energy of how this exchange is about to go.

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

Rick stands behind her in his CRM helmet and gear and the visual again feels like a reminder that Michonne found Sergeant Major Grimes but not her Rick just yet.

Rick says, “Ahead and to the right. We can talk.” And Michonne stands there for a moment, clearly fed up. I know she’s not exactly itching to go where Rick tells her after his recent behavior.

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

After stopping for a sec, Michonne sorta rolls her eyes before heading to the right to 'talk' - even tho her communication when they're alone won’t require any words.

And the way Rick pauses for a moment as she struts off without even looking at him...I know he’s nervous about this chat. Appreciating her feisty walk and also nervous lol. 😅

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

So then when they finally have some privacy it low key looks like Rick is getting in Michonne's personal space and idk if it’s to be on some lovey timing or some stern ‘you were supposed to go’ timing. I’ll never know because Michonne sets the tone immediately when she rips Rick’s helmet off and throws it. I'm quite here for it tbh. 😊

gif cred: @figmentof

Like I know Michonne is so sick and tired of the CRM, and that helmet covering her man’s face is just another reminder that they have a hold on him. That her Rick is buried under the mask of the CRM.

And the way Michonne ripped off the helmet you can tell she wants to go ham on anyone who is keeping her Rick away from her including Sergeant Major Grimes himself.

She does the helmet rip-off smooth too and it quickly lets Rick know just how upset she is.

The move seems to take Rick very much off guard as he steps back and just breathes and stares at her for a while, knowing Michonne hasn’t had this type of energy with him since like season 3. Again, since he'd been so convinced that sending her away like that was for the best and an act of love, he wasn't thinking about how extremely hurtful it was to her too...But he knows now.

Also, I think because he’s sorta out of practice in remembering his wife does not play he thought maybe he was going to take over in this conversation and tell her how things gotta be but that's not how you roll up on Michonne Grimes.

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

And so instead Rick takes a different approach by trying to explain himself. 

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

Rick shares, “All these years, the only way I wasn’t killed was one man saving my life over and over.” And Michonne looks at him just like 'this better be good.'

Rick says, “The only way you get away is if someone is here making sure.” Then it makes me so sad to hear the vulnerability and defeatedness in his voice as he says, “It’s taken me years to know I can’t go anymore. I asked for help, I didn’t get it.” 😢

That part always gets me because he’s saying he tried to do this himself and then he even tried to get help from others but was ultimately left hanging. Even tho I was like Rick, you did get it, because the one woman who can most help you is here and you’re looking at her right now.

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

Rick tries to help Michonne see, “To get away, you need someone on the inside” and then I hear those more tender Richonne tones when Rick says, “I’m that for you.”

It’s hard because you can tell he thinks this is a good thing he’s doing for her but Michonne is understandably looking at him like, 'How can you just decide that without me?' Rick has been so focused on Michonne being his choice that he hasn’t exactly stopped to consider what her choice is in all this. And again, her choice is him too.

Often people who love really hard have a hard time grasping that others can love them just as deeply. So while every choice Rick makes is because his wife is his choice, he’ll have to see that he and their family is Michonne’s choice and she too will do anything for him and them.

Plus, Rick really forgot that he and Michonne are the same which means they aren’t letting anyone choose anything for them including Rick trying to choose when and how Michonne leaves this place. She’s been through way too much to just let him choose that for her.

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

So I already thought Rick’s last part of his letter was problematic but then Sergeant Major wants to say it all over again to her face which was just not the move. 🤦🏽‍♀️

He looks at Michonne with his eyes serious and pained as he says, “I said that if you loved me…you’d go.” And eye personally said Rick, let's not say that ever again. One time was already too much. 🙃

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not losing sight of the fact that Rick is saying this from a place of immense trauma and not grasping that he is as valued by Michonne as she is to him so she would never just leave him here just like he would never have just left her here. But still, this is Rick almost trying to put Michonne’s love in question in a manipulative way.

But also the way he says it, it just reminded me that Rick has not been on the receiving end of love for almost a decade so he’s seeming to forget that Richonne’s love means they don’t split up. Throughout TOWL, I think Rick and Michonne both had to get reacquainted with how much the other loves them and is loyal to them.

gif cred: @isisnicole

So then Michonne reminds us all that she always be knowing what to say - and sometimes with no words needed to say it as she gives Rick a very expressive silent reaction. And I like the choice, that I believe I heard Danai was behind, to have Michonne not say anything in the scene. It makes it all the more impactful especially because Richonne really can have full-blown conversations with each other without uttering a word.

And when Rick pulls this line yet again Michonne tilts her head and just smiles looking so pretty and still peeved because she’s like 'of course I love you, you sweet sweet fool.'

In fact, it’s because she loves him so much that she’s even standing here right now. I know for Michonne hearing Rick say this again has to be more salt in the wound because she’s gone through so much in the name of her love for him and their family and so for him to essentially suggest if she really loved him she would have left was just so not it. 😪

gif cred: @perryabbott

The way Michonne responds I feel like a whole lot is swirling through her head. Like I wonder if she’s thinking what I was thinking in this moment which is - Rick, if she loved you, she’d have your baby. If she loved you she’d spend the last eight years so committed to you that no man replaced you in her or your children’s life.

If she loved you, she’d learn that you're alive and sacrifice time with her kids, getting attacked by the CRM, recovering for a year, and being plopped into the Civic Republic's consignment because her husband told her it’s the only way, just to find you again. Since she loves you she’s standing in front of you right now and not halfway to Alexandria.

Rick’s previous relationships saw him being someone who poured more into others than they did to him. And in a way he tried to start doing that with Michonne, thinking it’d be fine if he just poured into and protected her while he’s left out to dry…but she had to remind him they are far too equal in their outpouring of love and commitment for him to not get love and protection back.

gif cred: @nat111love

I love how when Michonne looks at him with that layered smile that says so much, she and Rick proceed to have a whole conversation with just their eyes. Like Michonne smiles, clearly hurt and frustrated, and then Rick stares at her and blinks and whatever she says with her eyes seems to rock Rick. Because then he looks at her and just steps back shaken.

But Michonne actually honors Rick’s wishes here because he said 'If you love me, you’ll go' and she’s like 'welp since I do love you let me go ahead and excuse myself right now and go instead of going off.' And her quietly composed approach and walk-off have Rick really shook to his core. The man looks like he legit wants to puke over having his wife be mad at him and knowing he has to go back to the drawing board to figure out how to get her back home alive.

gif cred: @isisnicole

Michonne has always had such an effect on Rick because just her staying quiet and composed and walking away had Rick doubled over with his eyes wide like he was socked in the stomach or something.

Y’all, this is also further proof that they’re magnets because when they’re off-kilter and walking away from each other like this it has them feeling straight-up ill. 

This was a really well-done scene and Rick really does embody the viral tweet “My wife is mad at me. I hope I die.” because he looks like Michonne being upset with him is a worse pain than chopping off his own hand.

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

It’s interesting seeing Rick and Michonne at the beginning of one of their biggest conflicts. And they truly still feel so married even in the way they approach this conflict. Like yes, they’re at odds but you know neither of them is just giving up on the other. Deep love is still at the foundation of all of this.

So while Michonne doesn’t say anything verbally to Rick in this scene - saving it for another time when she can really let it out - she does have someone she wants to open up to. And that’s her daughter, Judith. 🥲

And as Michonne proceeds to wonder if Rick has nearly become too far gone - she ends up having the exact encounter she needs to be reminded of the bigger 'picture.' 😌🤳

[deathmybride]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ the earth from a distance | andrew hozier-byrne *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ship: andrew hozier-byrne x fem!oc

warnings: references to death, alienation

summary: Gráinne moved to Dunbur to escape her past, to live quietly and write, and wallow in all the grief she had acquired. Andrew has other ideas…

word count: 3663

a/n: dedicated to my beloved @ath3nasgard3n who came with me to see bogfather in concert and held me while I SOBBED to Abstract (Psychopomp), even though she had never listened to hozier before that night.

Also, the setting for this fic is the Old Wicklow Head Lighthouse in Dunbur, which is now a BnB that you can stay in.

How to pronounce Gráinne and Máire

It began, as all good love stories should, with the death of a stranger. This time, it was the old lady who lived in the disused lighthouse by the battered shore, dying as the leaves turned to copper. I had lived in Dunbur for almost a year by that time, I never saw the heather part for any cars that might wind along the gravel path to the sea- but, then again, I was not watching for them. Either way, Lady, my poor MX5 was not built for such terrain and I could feel the scrub catching in sods under her chassis all the way down to the grass flat that had been designated as parking.

My gumboots squelched on the sopping turf as I hopped out, squinting at the pallid sun that tried so hard to reach me through the permanent duvet of cloud. It was a nice day by County Wicklow standards, no rain, minimal mist, and nearly, nearly sunny. The only reason to rug up was the damn wind billowing off the sea. I caught a gaggle of county gents eyeing Lady with appraisal while their wives loaded their cars with salvaged kitsch.

“She’s a beauty.” Mr Mulligan, the butcher- the most confident of the group- spoke up, peering out from beneath his tweed flat-cap with a face far too chipper for an estate sale.

“Ta.” I nod in thanks. “She’s old enough to order a pint.”

“What year?”

“‘99.”

“Ah, excellent year.” He said. I supposed it would be true if cars were like wine. “You’re a fine driver to get her up the back ass of nowhere, o’er all this shite.”

“Ta, just dumb luck, I reckon.” I moved to step away, but he cut in closer.

“We got ‘em lil’ cutlets in at the shop, I know they’re your favourite.”

“Ah, ya can’t fuckin’ get a word outta this one without him sellin’ ya some gobshite.” Mr Ronan, the newsagent spoke up with a roll of his eyes.

“Ahh, rev up ya bastard!” He aimed a light smack at his friend, and soon they were in playful fighting stances.

I took their rough-housing as my cue to retreat, finding their high spirits quite macabre and feeling grateful that the old lady’s family could not see them over the shallow rise.

The sale itself took place over the hillock and down in a scoop of grass a little ways away from the lighthouse. The townsfolk picked over fold-out camping tables laden with knickknacks and books, and a sparse supply of farm equipment and furniture on tarps nearby. I resolved to steer clear of there since Lady wasn’t known for her boot space, and I did not feel like calling in a favour from someone with an appropriate vehicle for the countryside. There was a dull hum of conversation hanging over the scene, and as I approached I must have murmured ‘hello’ and forced a smile for half a dozen of my regular customers. A few young men in black coats seemed to be dealing with the sales; grandsons of the deceased, I assumed.

I started with the books, finding a Folio Society copy of The Divine Comedy for a relative bargain,and- to my surprise- a few of Anne Rice’s Christian novels. I had little luck with anything else and was about to give up and go home, but something more caught my eye. It was a teddy bear with fur like lush, green grass. It had a curious face, with dark eyes and wide, brown nose that matched the brown on its paw-pads. Around its neck were four bells on a chain, each a different autumnal shade. Immediately taken by him, and spying a toddler staring at him with hungry eyes and grubby hands, I decided I couldn’t live without him and snaffled him up. The bells jingled pleasantly, and the fur was silky in my hands.

“Alright?” Someone sidled in beside me- Sue- the dumpy older woman who worked at the dingy smoke-and-gun shop down the street from the cafe where I worked.

“Hi.”

“Quer’n windy out, ain’t it?” Her eye contact was intense and probing.

“Aye.” I kept it brief. Once you got her talking, she wasn’t likely to stop.

“Cute.” She pointed to the bear, raising her brows. Her curiosity read phoney. “Bairns at home?”

“No. He’s for me.” I giggled in embarrassment, but she did not appear to be listening.

“Look at all this shite, would ya?” She picked up an admittedly hideous angelfish paperweight made of blue glass, sneering. “Hard to imagine such a proper woman would fill her gaff with this much cheap junk.”

“Mm.”

“You couldn’t move in that place for all the stuff.”

“You been in there, then?” Shit, she’s got me asking questions...

“Well,” She fiddled with her straw-blonde pageboy hair, suddenly self-conscious. “No, but you know that’s what its like, I mean look at it all.”

“Mmhm.”

“You know, I sold her fags.” She lifted her chin, prideful, yet almost disapproving. “Seven packs, each week on a Tuesday.”

“Maybe that’s what got her.”

I regretted the words as soon as they escaped my mouth, smiled tightly at her aghast expression and made a run for one of the young men dressed in black. This was a sad town, I reminded myself. A sad town, with sad gossip, and sad old ladies who die alone in bleak, majestic places full of items haunted by memory. What do I care if Sue starts spreading rumours?

The man served me quickly, seeming distracted. I wished him well and expressed sorrow for his loss. He thanked me in a robotic way, as if this were the hundredth time he was hearing those sentiments that day, and gave me a paper bag for my books. I took my cue to leave, hiking up over the rise to my car. As I went, my eyes strayed to the lighthouse. It burst up from the earth like the trunk of an enormous tree, though it lacked the natural curvature of wood, instead taking the form of an eight-sided prism. Ringed around the top was a deck with a railing just visible from such a distance. My feet slowed, suddenly intrigued by the memory held within the stones. I cast about a furtive glance. Nobody around, and all the patrons out of sight behind the slope. A closer look couldn’t hurt anyone, could it? Without another thought, I made a break for it, trying to walk swiftly without appearing to be hurrying in case the eyes I felt boring into me were not just a figment of my active imagination.

The gorse and heather grew all the way up to the base of the structure, which stretched high up above me in six tapering sections. I tilted my head back, I shielding my eyes against the glare. It was so tall, yet not even the domed top could scratch at the clouds. It was too windy to see the mist settle low enough to swallow the top, yet the idea of such a sight was glorious in my mind’s eye, like a tower from a fable. I wandered around the base, picking my way across the brush, until I came to the door. It was enormous and fortified, and appeared to be locked. I pushed on it hard, expecting nothing, but it swung in with a creak and a great feeling of resistance.

The surprise drew a gasp from my lips as I slipped inside. The inside seemed tiny in comparison, with low ceilings yellowed by years of indoor smoking. The inner walls were rounded, rough with crackled plaster and faded yellow wallpaper hanging off in sloughs. The air smelt of mildew and damp, and I noticed that the window at the rear was open in an attempt to flush out the smell. I crept over, laying my feet lightly. There was a book laying face down on the sill and a pair of reading glasses folded beside them. A chill ran over me at the realisation that these people may still be using this space.

Get out of here Gráinne, what the hell are you doing? I scolded myself internally as I abandoned my package of books and made a beeline for the stairs. You stupid woman, they’re gonna catch you! Sue’s probably told them all you spit on their grandmother’s memory by now!

The stairs ran openly up the walls of each floor, and I found myself gripping the iron railing as I climbed. They creaked and popped as they took my weight, the sound amplified by the empty stone interior. I saw that the second and third floors were as empty as the first, each showing signs of water damage and decay. The fourth floor was home to a frankly enormous four-poster bed that took up almost the whole room. The fifth floor appeared to be a bathroom, while the sixth was a kitchen. I was out of breath by the time I reached the top, and I had counted 109 steps from the ground floor.

As I bent over, holding my knees while I caught my breath, I noticed that in the corner there was a pull-down attic style door that hung open invitingly. It looked a tad rickety, and the fact that it was open at all should have read as suspicious, but the climb had taken a good five minutes and I’d be damned if I would leave without seeing the view from the very top. Gritting my teeth, I took the final climb, white-knuckling the rail as I popped my head out into the brightness. The wind howled against my ears, cutting through my beanie. I blinked my dry eyes against it, peering through my lashes and rubbing furiously against the sting.

“Hello, miss.”

Such a cheerful voice had never struck such terror in a person. A shock like falling galvanised my blood and before I had time to register what had happened, I had sprinted backwards down the stairs and stood frozen at the bottom. A beat passed, then he appeared, kneeling at the top of the trap door like a gargoyle: a young man with a soft face and a nest of dark hair poking out from beneath a knitted beanie. He seemed to be suppressing a smile, and when he spoke, it burst across his face with a giggly laugh.

“I see you down there.”

“Sorry!” I blurted out. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think-”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” He put a hand over his heart in an old-fashioned gesture of sincerity. “I didn’t mean to frighten ya.”

“N-no, I shouldn’t be up here anyway, I…”

“Well, strictly speaking, no you shouldn’t. But I left the door unlocked, and if it wasn’t you, it would be someone else.” He tilted his head, offering a kinder smile than I deserved. “You’re not in trouble.”

“I-” I took a deep breath, trying to swallow my stutter. “Thank you for… understanding.”

He shrugged.

“S’alright. People get curious. It’s not like there’s much left to steal, anyways. Unless you think you can get that bed frame down the stairs.”

“I-I don’t think I could, no.” A nervous giggle found its way into my voice.

“Alas, neither can the movers. She’s a beauty though, ain’t she? Though I think I’ll have to burn some sage before I sleep in it. I’m not the creepiest thing in this place, I’ll tell you what. Banshees and spooks in every corner.” He seemed amused at my wide-eyed confusion. “You may need to sage the bear too. I think I see Aunt Máire’s ghost peepin’ out through its beady eyes.”

“Right…” He raised an eyebrow as I held the bear close to my chest.

“Sorry, I’m just messin.’”

“I know.” I said quickly, taking a tentative step back, eyeing the stairs. “Well, I’m gonna…”

“What? You’re not coming up?”

“I-I shouldn’t. I’ve already basically broken in.”

“Nonsense.” He shook his head, his smile almost exasperated. “You’ve climbed all this way, surely come out and have a look. I don’t mind, I promise. I’m invitin’ ya.”

In that moment it occurred to me that this was a stranger- albeit a kindly and handsome one, but a stranger nonetheless- and we were in a very secluded spot. He could be anyone. He could want anything. I felt my phone pressing on my leg from my jeans pocket. He put his hand up in surrender.

“I won’t twist your arm about it, but the door is open if you like. I’ll let you get on, or would you like me to walk you back down?”

“No.” I left myself no more time to think on it. After all, it was the middle of the day, and the folk at the sale could see us standing by the railing. “I’ll come up. If you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

He moved aside obligingly, offering a hand to help me up. It seemed rude not to accept such an offering, and I could not say I regretted it. His hands were huge and soft, his grip firm but gentle. He kept hold of me for a beat longer than he needed, meeting my gaze with eyes narrowed against the glare. He was gorgeous up close, with down turned moss-green eyes that resembled those of a creature far older than any human, half hidden beneath thick, dark lashes. He smiled as he stood up, and as my stare dropped to his cherub lips I noticed his close cropped beard was auburn in the watery sunlight. He rose up, and up, and up, and soon he was towering over me like a beech tree.

“Wow, you’re tall.” I had to shout over the roaring wind.

He laughed. A husky sound that made his shoulders shake.

“Aw, and you’re such a tiny ting, I feel like I owe you a couple inches.” Instantly, he blushed. “That’s not what I- uh- oh, forget it.”

He tore off his beanie and buried his face in it. Bubbling up from the depths of me, for reasons unknown, was some of my old sense of humour.

“Well, I wouldn’t say no…”

“Ugh, inappropriate, missy!” He swatted at me with his beanie, then sniffed in mock offence. “You don’t even know my name.”

“Hey! You’re the one who started on about all your inches…”

“And I do have a few.”

“See what I mean? Unbelievable.”

He rolled his eyes, then contained himself no longer and let loose his infectious laughter. Soon enough, I was in bits. When we could both hold a straight face, he leaned in and offered me a handshake.

“I’m Andrew, by the way.”

“Gráinne.”

“Gráinne” He leaned in as he spoke, the sound softening as it passed through his mouth. The ‘r’ rolled gently like the crest of a wave into the breathy final syllable, and the name I once found so masculine and harsh sounded like a prayer to my ears. “Borrowed name for an English girl.”

“Not borrowed,” I sniffed, suddenly protective of the name I once considered an unflattering mouthful, and embarrassed at my obvious lack of an accent. “I’m a quarter Irish on my father’s side, if you believe in splitting yourself into fractions. It’s my great grandmother’s name.”

“I apologise for my rudeness.” Again, he put his hand on his heart. I had to stand close to hear his soft tone as the gale whipped my face. “I was only surprised. Gráinne isn’t such a common name these days, which is a shame ‘cause I find it quite beautiful. Do you speak any Gaeilge?”

I shook my head, heat marring my cheeks.

“If you fancy learning, I’m your man. These courses…” He shook his head. “They teach you how to speak it, but they can’t help you with the feeling.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” I would be lying to myself if I denied the thrill of excitement I felt at the prospect of getting to know him in some small way.

“I certainly hope so.” He took a step back and gestured broadly. “Such a view is surely incentive enough.”

I looked around, realising that in my fascination with this sprite of a man, I had failed to take in my surroundings. One one side, the prairie hills rolled gently out toward the horizon, marbled in a thousand shades of green, brown, bronze, even pink and yellow where the gorse and wildflowers grew dense through the grass. Clusters of trees and scrub broke up the smooth flow of the turf, crosshatched with paths carved out by hares and foxes. Further out, I saw a sparse gathering of cottages, and an ivory freckling of sheep over the surrounding hillside.

We wandered the circumference of the deck, looking down first upon the rows of reliable utes, and one fragile sports car; then, at the people milling around the tables like tiny crabs on a beached porpoise. Finally, we regarded the stark, white shape of the new lighthouse and control centre; unnatural, yet homely against the shore. Down there, the brilliant tapestry of colour gave way to grey stone that formed jutting structures along the shore, growing smaller and smaller until they reached the small stretch of beach that must have been made from gravel, or even coarse sand. The sea there was deep grey, roiling with pale breakers that threw up jets of foam as they crashed against the rocks. Above the water, yet still strangely beneath us, grey gulls wheeled on the wild wind. Their cries carried over the roar of the sea, reaching us on a breath of sharp, briny air. I inhaled deeply, feeling the spirit of this ancient place come into me, cold and fresh.

“It is… beautiful. Do you mean you’d teach me up here?”

“If it was a bit less windy, yeah.” He scrunched his nose. “Otherwise, I’m renovating the kitchen in the next few weeks. Once its done up and not so decrepit we could use that.”

“So, this really is your place, then?”

“Aye. And about a hundred acres worth of peninsula. The workers at the new lighthouse have right of way, of course, but whatever. It’s a good deal.”

“Wow,” I allowed myself an awed gasp. “You inherited all that?”

“Well, my cousins did.” He itched the back of his neck, as if about to confess to an embarrassing fact. “They were gonna put it on the market and split the money, so I said I’d buy it sight unseen if they come down to help me clear out all the stuff.”

“Wow. How can you afford all that as such a young age?”

“I’m older than I look.” He admitted with an awkward laugh. “But younger than my soul, ma says.”

“You’ve been here a few time before?”

“More’n a few, I’d wager.” He turned his glittering eyes to me. “You don’t seem new either. We’ve probably met before, once upon a time.”

“You’d think I’d remember someone like you.”

“Ah, I’d say the same about you.” I did not miss the redness on his cheeks. “Memory is a fickle thing. Anyway, I can afford this place because I lead a charmed life. I work hard, yeah, but luck has so much to do with it. You collect your share of four-leafed clovers growin’ up ‘round here.”

“You’re from Dunbur?”

“Newcastle, up the coast a ways.”

“I might have driven through on my way to Dublin.”

“Might’ve.” He checked his watch. “Sorry, I better get back to the vultures.”

He strode over to the stairwell, and I took it as my cue to follow.

“Oh, you can stay up there as long as you like.” He assured me. “Just make sure you lock the door on the way out.”

“Oh, no, I better go home myself. Dinner to cook, laundry to do…”

“It never ends, does it?”

“Mm-mm.”

We made our way down, moving quickly as he took two stairs at a time. He reached the ground before me, but I found him waiting for me with an amused look on his beautiful face and my book bag under his arm.

“Sorry, I forgot about your poor, tiny legs.”

“Rude.” I tried to take my bag from him, but he was already digging through it.

“What have we got in here… The Anne Rice novels, very nice, and oh! The Divine Comedy! Have you read it before?”

“No, never.”

“You’ve got to.” He handed it over with gravitas. “Do not let this gather dust. Read it, it’ll change your life.”

“I will.”

“Good.” He glanced over his shoulder as we stepped outside, pulling the enormous door closed behind him. “Alright, I’ve gotta run, but it’s been lovely to meet you.”

“You too.” I was about to let him go, but I wanted to see him for just a moment longer before he dissolved like mist. “Oh, Andrew?”

“Mm?”

“I’m… sorry, for your loss.”

“Thank you, but I never really knew her. She was the black sheep of the family, a title I’m happy to inherit. One day, I’ll tell you all about it.” Gently, he tapped my elbow with the back of his hand, a gesture that set my skin alight. “I’ll see ya round, Gráinne.”

“Bye.”

He waved as he left, the ever present smile still lingering on his lips. He turned to me again when he reached the crest of the hill and waved once more. I waved back, and when he disappeared over the rise, I bounded over to watch him walk away. One more time, he turned, as if he sensed me watching, and lifted his hand over his head.

“Gráinne.” I whispered, trying to match his lilting cadence. “Gráinne, Gráinne…”

I knew then that my name would never sound as sweet again, and wondered how much more exquisite it would be were it to pass from those budded lips in a sigh of bliss.