#not better. better puts pressure. easier. easier is just being nice which feels warm and good on both sides

[homeofhousechickens]

Do you have any advice on transitioning chickens from outdoor life to being house chickens? I recently lost my whole flock to foxes but one silkie, and she’s too scared to go outside again. She’s already a cuddle bug and loves lounging on soft things and being warm, she’s just pretty cautious about any kind of nappy. She’s still recovering from the attack so I wouldn’t be starting anything with her just yet, but any advice would be helpful

Picture of the most beautiful girl for tax

It should be pretty easy, i suggest getting a night time cage for her/ a cage for her to stay in where she can recover. I suggest something like the Deluxe Wabitat. (buy it from the cheapest place you can its fine)

https://www.chewy.com/midwest-wabbitat-deluxe-rabbit-home/dp/183474

My leghorns can fit in there pretty comfortably so it should be plenty on room for a silkie. You will want to remove the ramp though to give her more space. You could also use a large dog crate, prefab coop, or ferret cage instead but i like the high sides of the Wabitat and its easy to clean, move, add perches, ect. You can also buy extensions for it which is nice. While she adjusts i suggest covering the sides and back of the cage so she feels safer. You can easily open the front of the cage and let her come and go supervised (so you can clean up after her) as you transition her to diaper wearing after she heals. Speaking of diapers- AVOID pamperyourpoultry diapers. I own a lot of these diapers in all sizes and id say they are a very poor choice for new house chicken owners and birds not used to being diapered. They have a lot of belly fabric which can put pressure on the crop and its easier for them to get their legs caught. They dont automatically have a waterproof liner and are not adjustable either not to mention the sizing is inconsistent.

My diaper recs are these Your silkie would be a small or an adjusted down medium with this seller. Very affordable and high quality.

This maker SPECIALIZES in seramas and silkies. You just need to tell them you have a silkie. These are great for training and are VERY comfortable for the bird due to having NO belly fabric.

Also the feed you choose will greatly impact the texture of your birds poop, the cheaper and lower quality the more wet and stinky it will be. Keep this in mind! The best feed for house birds is textured feed like Henhouse reserve in my opinion but plenty of house chickens are on normal crumble or pellets.

[laura1633]

hey Laura,

so idk if i’ll say the right words but i’ll try because you seem to be having a pretty tough time and that’s honestly very understandable.

i’m quite new to f1, i missed the big shit show that was 2021 and icl i’m quite happy because i’m not sure i would have survived going into the tranches for Max as he won his first wdc. however, i’m happy to do so this year and it’s been even more enjoyable that i know people believe and would do the same, especially you!

when i entered the f1 fandom, you were one of the first i started to follow and to read. you’ve always seemed to be one of the kindest and you are, truly. your writing has saved me from sad nights and i’m very very grateful for that. i don’t know if you’ll remember but 3 weeks ago you wrote a lestappen prompt just because i told you i had had a bad day. that’s the kind of thing you do for others in here, and that is just so nice to do when you’re new to the fandom. i’ve always felt truly welcome and it’s hugely thanks to you!

now you’re totally right. the fia is being unfair (euphemism) and they’re just acting like a bunch of clowns. the whole organization seems to be acting against Max and it’s truly disgusting because he is such a big part of their sport. like, truly, the sport wouldn’t be the way it is today without Max. one thing sure, he left for the future his mark on this sport, and many many many children look up to him and he’s going to be their role model. so when the fia is bothering me as they are currently, i tell myself that they would be nothing without Max and i feel better, because he’s really an icon that they don’t deserve yet he stays because racing is a huge part of his life. and idk, as long as he gives them a chance, i give them a chance, albeit part of me giving them a chance is just to witness Max shine and shit on their obvious bias.

and it warms my heart that so many drivers backed up Max : Charles, Pierre, Esteban, Kevin, George, Alex, Lewis… everyone knows that Max is one of the best drivers if not the best and that the fia is doing a terrible job. maybe it’s not enough but at least we have that!

just know that i love your anti era and that i wish it would suffice. i wish you’d let all your anger be on this blog or to your friends or in your writing and that it’d be enough but sometimes all you need is a break and if you feel like it’s something you need, we’ll support you during this time.

now i already told you, you’re so kind that i wanna be that kind to you. know that we’ll keep rereading your work, that we’ll wait for you if you ever wanna come back, and that in the meantime we’ll support Max twice as much as we do today.

just tell us if we can do something for you. we can send a hundred lestappen snippets or prompts in you ask box, we can send as many Max pictures as you want, we can shit on the fia, shit on some drivers, shit on everything. just know that you created a community and that this community will be there no matter what!

take care Laura xx

Thank you so much anon, what a beautiful message to receive.

To anyone reading this I know that I am being overly dramatic but I have just had a bit of a rough week and F1 is normally something that brings me joy so it’s sad that it seems to be going in such a negative direction. 

2021 was indeed very stressful, I was not on Tumblr then but I was on twitter which was not good!! It was actually the reason I deleted my twitter account because it became too toxic. I mostly stay away from there now. 

I’m so glad you have felt welcomed into the fandom and that in some way I have been able to help with that. You are definitely right, supporting someone is easier when you know there are others who are also rooting for them and sending them the love they deserve. 

Max is truly an icon of the sport. He has had to put up with so much rubbish over the years and I cant’ believe how well he seems to deal with the pressure. No matter what they do or say his name will go down in the history books as one of, if not, the greatest of all time. Going on to other racing series and achieving great things will also cement that. I also do believe that he will do great things for younger generations coming into the sport and he will do this without requiring fanfare but because he loves the sport. If certain sections of the sport embraced him as much as they should they would see what an amazing ambassador he is for racing.

I have been pleased that a few times this season, when the media has tried to make a big deal out of something, a lot of the other drivers have stood up for Max. Unfortunately I do feel that there are drivers that may use Max’s ‘reputation’ and try and play up to the good v bad thing to sway the public and the penalties handed out. It’s a tactic I find rather cowardly and I was very happy that when we had Max and Charles fighting at the front Charles did not try and revert to this tactic. 

I try not to be too open with all my anti thoughts because I don’t want to invite lots of people arguing with me in my inbox but I am sure most of you can probably work out how I feel about certain things without me having to explicitly state it 😂

You are so kind anon. 

I will probably return to writing at some point point because I have loved trying to develop and improve my writing style and I love writing lestappen (and I will continue with my ongoing story because I think that it would be unfair to stop!) 

Honestly just seeing everyone’s love and defence of Max is enough to make me happier. I will be hanging around here and am still happy to chat to you. I might just not have the energy to be writing about this sport right now. 

Thank you anon for being so lovely <3

[oceanlipgloss]

POTTERY

BARBATOS.

+ warnings: angst.

+ my mc is the heroine, so the pronouns are feminine.

She touched him like he were not one of the oldest entities in creation, but a being more fragile than she, or a piece of pottery.

It was somewhat...well, amusing. He thought it was, at least, for did she really think he would give under the pressing fingers of time when he was powerful enough to ward off her darkest fears?

Anyone else would have wondered that, but he knew better. The answer to that absurd question, anyway, was always the same: never. Of his power she was very much aware, even more than some of the others were.

And the truth as they both knew it is, he's unlike delicate ceramics, and he's most definitely not one of them in the making, either—all yielding clay, raw and tender; on the contrary, his blood flowed with magic, atonement and a surreal number of years.

It's true, he had soft skin that dented under the slightest pressure, hair that shimmered in the sun like anyone else's, and was created of flesh and blood. It's true, his body was faintly warm to the touch. 

As human as he appeared to be, though, that was just illusion, trickery—because there was nothing human about the untold centuries in his eyes, nothing human about how he had existed for such a long time, nothing human about the way he continued to live as though there will never be an end to his life.

How daunting she believed it to be, such an endless existence! She thought that perhaps he too found it tiresome sometimes, which was why she was so gentle with him, so nice.

And in his opinion, it was normal—as casual as breathing, in fact—how he devoted himself to the heir; surely that had to be the reason he found being taken care of now, after so long, to be strange.

Having a pretty little creature like her tend to him also made the predicament more quaint. She was human, yet cared about demons as such...how impossibly humane.

That's not to say he didn't appreciate the sentiment, however, because he very much did. He liked feeling her gentle palm on his tail. He liked the way her sweet fingertips traced the glowing veins. And he found it humorous, how doing that left her hand wet and made her jokingly complain.

He appreciated that she never made things awkward; between the two of them, there was hidden attraction on his side, platonic love on hers. Of course, he allowed his heart to...ache...every now and then, but it was easier for them to stay that way. Better.

How to put this? It was like dark chocolate—rich, bitter, sweet. He liked the bittersweet flavour of it. There was something pleasant about a one-sided romance. He thought that his love was something that belonged to him and no one else; he would have liked to share it with her, but now he didn't have to.

Oh, and yes, his heart may have softened and his affection expanded as they spent moments of innocence together, but it was still very solid. Conviction and dedication were his closest friends. Atonement and loyalty sailed his blood.

So...even if she did reflect his emotions and feel the same kind of love for him, he could not have—would not have—possibly chosen her.

Maybe in another era, in another time, in another life.

+note: I finally, finally managed to find it in me to finish this. And wow, this is my first Barbatos fic in months. The last time I wrote for him was all the way back in summer.

+ MASTERLIST

+ AO3 POST

©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡��𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

[pawsitivevibe]

Good Training Habits

So I heard dogblr wants to talk about dog training again? Here's me trying to start a discussion but failing and actually writing an essay oops.

In my most recent class, I just had a discussion with my students about what I call "good training habits." These are essentially things you can do to make your training more consistent, and therefore better and kinder to your dog.

The examples I talked about with them:

Warm-up routines:

These are super important for any training. I don't necessarily do a full warm-up for my sporadic 3-5 minute training sessions, but when I'm preparing to go into a class, any session involving obstacles/equipment, or a trial, a real warm-up is a must. A good warm-up prepares your dog's body and mind for the more intensive work you're about to do. Having a consistent warm-up routine also tells your dog what's coming: if you always do the same warm-up, they begin to expect what follows. And that's a good thing! You want your dog to anticipate things, you want to shape their behaviour through consistent expectations! Dogs love patterns! It helps them figure out what you're asking of them. Confusion can be a real killer for good training, you want to try to make your training as easily understandable for your dog as possible. Confusion leads to frustration and shutting down. I use different warm-up routines for every sport/activity I do, so my dog can start getting their brain and body into "agility" or "rally" or "scentwork" mode. Some people use the same warm-up routine for everything, and that can work well too! Your warm-up does 3 major things: gives your dog the "cue" that more intensive training is coming, focuses their mind on you, and prepares their body and warms up their muscles.

Cooldowns:

Having a routine for AFTER your class, training session, or competition run is just as important as a warm-up. You're bringing your dog's brain and body down from the high. You're letting them know that you're done, they can settle down, relax, and let their focus slip away. You're not going to put them back in a kennel right away after putting more intensive pressure on their minds and bodies. They need to stretch, calm down, have a good sniff.

Logs:

Keeping written training logs can be immensely beneficial to your training. Why? Well, it's that word again! CONSISTENCY. You can really track your dog's progress, see where they are improving most, where they're backtracking, what things you can work on, what's easier and harder for them. You get a much stronger picture of your dog's progression, which can be so so nice to look at when you're feeling discouraged and like your dog ISN'T progressing. It also shows you what YOU are doing. If you track your training, you are tracking YOUR training, what YOU are doing/asking/handling/cuing. That way you can make sure what you're asking/cuing/handling is the same every time. Consistency! And you can see what's not working, and if you should change how you're asking/cuing/handling instead. Let's say for example that I'm teaching my dog to stay. When I ask my dog for their behaviour, I hold my hand out like a stop sign and say "stay." But then, next week when I'm practicing the same thing, I flap my hand at my dog and say "wait." I get annoyed when my dog breaks. But I shouldn't, because I'm the problem. I'm not being consistent in my cues. My dog doesn't actually need two separate cues if I want the same behaviour. I can change my cues, but I have to pick one, not use both interchangeably if I'm asking for the same thing. But hey, I don't remember that that's what I'm doing. Well, I would remember if I wrote it down! In my handy logbook! Or my online spreadsheet! Or whatever works best. But a written record is such a good thing to keep for training.

Other good training habits: keeping new behaviour sessions short, varying your rewards, going back to reinforce "solid" behaviours, videoing yourself, paying attention to your gear handling, upping your criteria one step at a time.

What are some "good training habits" you practice or aspire to?

[samuelroukin]

Anyway please accept this gift of (given name James) Twohey being just. Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs:

"You're jealous," Roach says at last, rolling a spent casing between his knuckles, "of a dog."

The casing spins, balanced on the ridge before the slope down to Roach's thumb and then back again to the other side with the movement of his fingers. There's a small, uneven scar at the base of Roach's wrist, from a cig that wasn't pressed all the way down. Jimmy notices these things. He notices a lot of things. And he scowls. Roach is acting like he's being ridiculous. He's not.

"You like it," Jimmy says, something nice and ambiguous that Roach won't misinterpret. He's smart like that. Roach sighs, as if he's disappointed. As if he has a right. Jimmy's got standing, here.

"It's a dog, Twohey," he says, eyebrow almost lifting. He can say it's because of the nerve damage all he likes, not that he uses his words for it, just tilts his head into the right light to shut people up when he needs, but Jimmy knows it's that most of the time he simply cannot be bothered to make regular people faces. They're alike like that. They're supposed to be aligned.

"You like dogs," Jimmy says, easy, and anybody around will think they're just making conversation. Normal. Empty. But Jimmy knows Roach knows that in the folds of his arms over his chest, Jimmy's holding his pick like he always is, long and sharp and clever, easy to conceal and even easier to use. Jimmy's favorite.

Jimmy's got ideas too, always spinning in his head. For example: dogs aren't bright, and they're ruled by their appetites. They'll eat almost anything, with almost anything in it. Lots of loose things on a base, lots of things you shouldn't eat that are easy to get and very hard to miss.

"Not particularly," Roach says and that's a lie, which annoys Jimmy. Annoys him a lot. He's usually honest. Be a good boy for me, Roach has said, more than once, gaze heavy. And Jimmy has been, for him. But it's not for free. It's never been for free. There's a bargain in this. He thought Roach knew that. He should know that.

Roach stops playing with the casing, tipping it into his palm, holding it there. He considers, pretends to be about to put it down before launching it at Jimmy. He catches it, easy. It's warm, leeched the heat from Roach's skin.

"Consider myself a cat person, really. Little fucking killers," Roach says, staring steady.

Under the table, he grinds the ball of his foot, made heavy by his stained boots, onto Jimmy's toes, hard enough he can feel it through his own. He knocks the heel of his other boot to Roach's ankle, leaves it there. Roach doesn't let up the pressure. Neither of them want him to. Won't be enough to compromise mission-ready status but it'll ache.

Telegraphing the movement, Jimmy squirrels the casing into his pocket. Things can always be made useful. Even dogs. Roach is right about that.

"Always liked them better too," Jimmy agrees, shoulders going slack, and turns his mind to other things.

they are insane (derogatory, compliment), and i love them <3

[whumperooni]

Oh to be aizawas favorite student that gets stuffed on the regular, during class breaks, after school and special visits to his room at night. He baby's her quite a lot. He can't help it. And she gets favoritism but no one actually suspects he's teaching her how to be such a good girl behind doors.

yes yes yes

we all just want to be Sensei’s favorite student and have him teach us how to suck his cock just right

uh, nsfw rambling under the cut. and ye student has been aged up

It’s something that doesn’t happen on purpose or right away- first, you arrive at UA and you’re blessed with Aizawa as your homeroom teacher. And lucky, lucky him- you’re a wonderful student. Smart and polite and eager to learn. Your quirk is similar to his- erasure but by touch instead- and you’re always so respectful and attentive when you come to him for advice on how to use it, how to improve, how to be better. Sensei, I just want to do my best.

You quickly become his favorite the more he helps you and it’s a pleasant surprise when he finds the two of you have some common ground beyond quirks. Movies, books, shows, food- your tastes are similar and it’s easy to talk to you about things beyond the strict realm of what he should stick to.

You’re just so...easy to get along with. Relaxing. And, god, it’s such a nice change to have a student that is constantly working on improving, that lights up so much when given praise and absorbs every bit of advice that you can. You’re malleable, but not brainless and it’s no surprise when he realizes that he has a soft spot for you.

Your second year is a little rough- new homeroom teacher, internships, work studies, all the competition that comes with making a name for yourself in the hero world. Even though he’s not your teacher anymore, you can’t help wander back to him for advice and a familiar comfort. Aizawa, for his part, is content enough to keep guiding you along- will listen to you as you fret and worry and question yourself. His calm words and solid advice are always enough to raise your confidence again and the little sessions you two have will end with you nodding in determination and saying Sensei, I promise I’ll make you proud.

He already knows you will- you work hard and you’re so eager for his approval, always chasing after success and the reward of a pat to a head and your favorite sensei telling you good job. you did well. i’m proud of you. (He never doles out praise like that but, god, do you work hard to earn it- you deserve your sensei’s approval and compliments. You always work so hard. for him.)

The third year is a bit easier, but it’s tiring- you’re working properly as a hero now and juggling balancing school and being an acting sidekick. You still come to your sensei for help and it fills him with satisfaction whenever he hears how you’ve blossomed under his instruction.

This is the year, too, when his gaze keeps trailing after you, when he finally realizes just how much he enjoys your eagerness and your wide eyes, the way you nearly melt when he gives you praise.

Like any good teacher, he feels disgusted by himself. Disgusted but...interested. He swears to himself that he’ll never be inappropriate with you, that he’ll keep being there for you as always and keep the relationship respectable.

He tells himself that, but...

But his hands start brushing against you when you walk next to each other. But he begins to tuck your hair behind your ear and brush it from your eyes, trail his fingers along your check. But his touch becomes more frequent during training- experienced hands moving you to get your stance to perfection and lingering as he explains technique, giving the lightest of squeezes before dropping away.

And you...you never pull away or balk or do anything- you just look up at him with wide eyes and cheeks holding the lightest, sweetest flush and nod along to whatever he’s saying, keep following his instructions until you’re perfect.

You trust him so much and respect him to the highest regard- Sensei is important to you in every sort of way and you’d follow him into hell if he asked.

You’d do anything if he asked.

With your third year and all your hero work comes attention, popularity. Boys keep hounding after you and, honestly, it’s flustering. Embarrassing whenever they put their hands a little too low on your waist while chatting you up and look over you with hooded eyes. Their touch is nothing like Sensei’s- you don’t want to melt into and you don’t want more; all you want is to shy away.

The attention troubles you and it’s something that Aizawa picks up on. You almost don’t want to tell him about it whenever he asks, but you can’t not answer your sensei and, besides, he’s given you so much advice before- he’s sure to guide you through this confusing time in your life.

So you tell him, shyly, about the boys and their touches and their crude remarks. You blush and mumble that it’s overwhelming, that it’s embarrassing. You’ve never dated anyone before- you’ve never even kissed anyone before. You don’t know how and...and you’re nervous about it- what if you’re bad? What if they laugh?

Seeing you blushing and embarrassed would be a KO to Aizawa- one quick snap of his already frail self-control. He’d tell you that you just need practice, that it’s not something you need to rush. And, god, sweet fretting you who has danced through his fantasies and turned a respectable man into a closet pervert would be helpless when Aizawa- when the man you look up to with stars in your eyes, when the man whose every word you hang on to, when the man you’ve had such a sweet little crush on since day one, when Sensei- places a hand to your cheek and tells you that he could teach you.

How could you pass it up?

So it starts with that- his lips pressing against yours and your mind going dizzy with wonder and giddy, anxious disbelief. So, so chaste at first- slow to keep you from growing skittish and pulling away. And when it gets deeper, more hot that’s when he starts to tell you how to angle your head, how to use your tongue, how to mold your lips perfectly against his. Less tongue this time. That’s better. Try biting my bottom lip like this.

You listen to his instructions like a lovesick puppy- cheeks flushed and eyes hazy and the need to please him flooding through you stronger than ever before.

It starts with kissing and then it’s him teaching you how to ride his thigh, how to get off with just that grinding pressure and his murmured praise, his hands running over your waist. Then Sensei teaches you about pleasuring yourself- long fingers stroking over your cunny and curling deep inside, little whimpers and mewls leaving you while he explains your g-spot and how to stretch yourself for a cock, how to rub your little clit and make yourself come. He’ll get you off and suck your juices from his fingers, sit back in a chair and then make you do everything he just did- telling you when to add a finger, when to stroke your clit, encouraging you when you whine and say that your fingers are too small and they don’t feel as good as his.

So, of course, if you’re fingers aren’t good enough then he has to teach you about sex toys. He buys you a vibrator and uses it on you until you’re shaking, makes you stuff it in your panties before class and has you hurrying to him on break so you can show him that you’re soaked, that you can come now and please let me come sensei, i need to- it’s so much.

He’ll have you stuff your fingers into your soaked, throbbing pussy and he’ll let you come whenever you mewl a “Sensei, please.” And then he’ll have you suckle your juices from your fingers, teach you how good you taste.

Which, of course, will lead to lessons of him eating you out- face burying between your spread thighs and tongue flicking over your clit until it’s too  much and you try to squirm away on instinct. That gets his wraps around your wrists and you sat on his face- his hands gripping your bum and making you hump against him until he’s soaked with your cum and you’re too tired and sore to give more than a twitch of your hips.

Then, of course, it’s your turn to learn about pleasing someone else with your mouth- you get to see Sensei’s dick for the first time and it’s so, so flustering to watch him stroke it while he explains blowjobs and how to run your little tongue over his head, how to suckle his balls like a good girl. Just like that- you’re doing so good. Watch your teeth, okay? Remember to breathe.

This particular lesson gets repeated again and again- it’s hard to take his length fully at first and he has to let you train your throat until you can take him down to the root and swallow his cum without choking and gagging.

It becomes a habit of yours to suck your sensei off at the end of the day- you sinking to your knees and swallowing him down while he grades papers; his hand petting your hair and a serene look on your face as you bob your head along your sensei’s length, make him come.

The biggest lesson- the most important one- is when he finally, finally fucks you.

Aizawa knows he has to do it right- he knows that it has to be good for you. He wants it to be good for you- you’ve certainly earned it with all the hard work you’ve put in so far.

It happens during a break when he actually has time to dedicate to a good, proper fuck. You’re nervous at first, heart fluttering with anticipation, and he’s quick to soothe you with doting kisses, pull you into his lap and make you dizzy with his touch, his lips. He kisses you until pleasure is smoldering down low and then he carries you to the bed- cradling you gently and laying you out, taking a moment to soak in your flushed cheeks and adoring eyes, the way your lips move with a shy, needy murmur of “Sensei.”

He gets you off once, twice before stripping down and crawling over you. It hurts a little when he slides into your wet, warm cunny but he soothes that sting with kisses and hummed praises of how good you’re doing, how you’re such a good girl for him. You’re taking me so well. You’re doing such a good job. Good girl- you’re such a good girl. Honestly, the praise is enough to have your eyes watering and your already overstimulated pussy squeezing around him.

You come before he’s fully in and he takes advantage of that wave of pleasure to slip in the rest of the way, bury himself completely in that soaked cunt that he’s been starving for. You’ll have time to sob a “sensei” but then your mind will get hazed over by the feeling of being full, by how good it feels to have your teacher rocking into your needy pussy and pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along your neck.

The first time you come on his cock it’s with his lips pressed to your forehead as he murmurs for you to come for him- to come for sensei.

The next time you come on his cock is when you’re riding him the following night- his mouth sucking on your soft breasts and your back arching as he shoots hot ropes of cum into your spasming pussy.

He’ll show you how to clean yourself after and he’ll make you come again- face buried between your thighs and his tongue eating out the creampie he had nestled deep into your cunny.

After that, it’s fair game for him to call out of class for “just a word” or to drag you from regular training for some “one on one” training. And you’re just as bad- coming to him like a bitch in heat as soon as you feel your cunny begin to tingle and begging him to fuck you, let you suck him off- sensei, please!

Of course he spares the time to do that for you- you are his favorite student after all.

[moonlightcrusader]

Here's a prompt idea: I know most people like Doc being protective of peter, which is *chefs kiss* but I have a special soft spot for Peter being protective of otto too ;_;

So maybe one or more of the spideys helping out their dad? Obviously only if you want to, and I know you're busy, so no pressure! ❤

Slowly getting back to the prompts! 🥹

OOOH PROTECTIVE SPIDER-SONS I LOVE THAT😫😫 we need more role reversal and I love sicfics didjfnf here’s a short drabble of the boys taking care of their dad❤️

***

"Doc? What are you doing?!”

“Uhh..making myself some t-ACHOO! ACHOO!!” Otto sneezed nasally into his arm, feeling himself go lightheaded from all the pressure from his head to his nose.

“I don’t think we have achoo on the menu, but I can make you some tea, Doc.” Peter 2 gave a cheeky smile as the Doc rolled his eyes and let himself be led to the couch. Peter 1 was already there holding a blanket out and 5 wet rags. “Come on, that was funny!”

“Your humor is about as stale as this toast big bro,” Peter 3 spit out a stale piece of toast. “Ew! Doc, why does your bread taste weird? Do we need to fill the cabinets again?”

Otto let out a cough, feeling more drowsy as Peter 1 laid a blanket on his body while placing small rags on the actuators who were burning hot. “I think I might have sneezed on that one when I was making myself warm toast.”

Peter 1 & 2 let out disgusted noises as Peter 3 gagged, immediately spitting out the toast. The middle brother made sure to wash out his mouth perfectly as Otto saw himself scrub his tongue in the sink.

“I’m joking my boy, that would be disgusting!” The older scientist rolled his eyes playfully, his nose automatically sniffing as the smell of warm chicken and noodles cascaded in the air.

Peter 2 gently put a nice steaming bowl of soup in front of Otto, accompanied by some pain medication and fever relief. Peter 2 gave him a friendly smile as he walked back to the kitchen.

“Oh thank you my boys, this smells delicious! I’m sorry you didn’t have a great tasting experience with my assortment in bread through, Peter 3.”

“It’s fine, Otto. Stale bread is high in…fiber anyway!” Peter 3 chuckled softly to himself, taking a few food items out of the fridge. “I’ll start dinner! How does pasta sound if your up for it later Doc?”

Otto smiled fondly at the boys in the kitchen. “Sounds good to me.”

As Otto turned back to his soup, he barely noticed Peter 1 was standing quietly, his hands fiddling inside his pajama pockets as the boy rocked back and forth on his toes, unsure what to do. If Otto didn’t know any better, he felt like Peter 1 felt out of place.

Otto thought for a second, before having Larry purposely drop his spoon of soup to the ground. Immediately, Peter 1 caught the spoon but the little bit of soup spilled onto the ground.

“Hey Larry, you okay?” Petey asked, Larry feebly shook as he slinked back to Otto. “What’s wrong with him Otto? Is..that how you feel right now?”

I don’t like playing helpless, Father

Just for a a bit. Otto chirped in his head.

“It seems so… I can’t even lift up a spoon to eat. Oh, colds don’t get easier with old age do they?”

“But you aren’t old Otto, you barely have any gray hair!” The boy declared, sitting down next to the bundled up scientist as Peter 1 dipped the spoon into the soup. “Umm.. i don’t mean to offend you or anything, but if you want I could-

“I would appreciate that kiddo, I need my strength,” Otto smiled fondly, patting his head. He waited patiently as the youngest spider try to find a comfortable spot to sit in, pulling the spoon out of the soup. Otto casually opened his mouth as Peter 1 gently fed him. “Just whenever you get tired, let me know okay? Your brother poured a lot of soup.”

“And I’ll be happy to help you eat all of it.” Peter 1 gave a smile to the doctor. “Well, I won’t eat it but you know…”

“Yeah, I know,” As Peter continued to give gentle spoons to Otto, his bones ached a little less and the heat from his forehead spread to his heart. Hearing Peter 2 & 3 cackle and bicker in the kitchen as the smell of pasta filled the air, and Peter 1’s rambles about patrol, was all the medicine he needed.

Cause in the end, he knows he will be just fine.

[mypoisonedvine]

Making Ends Meet | dark!Mandalorian x reader

summary: you’re just a simple woman trying to make your way in the universe, with the universe’s oldest profession.  unfortunately for you, a new customer doesn’t plan on going easy on you.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: smut (dub con), kidnapping (?? kinda), prostitution, rough sex, pain kink, lots and lots of degradation, ooc mando being a meanie

please do not read if this content would be triggering or upsetting for you, dark fics aren’t for everyone and it is your responsibility to manage your own content consumption

If you were going to have any hope of making rent this month, you needed to book someone tonight— and not a cheapskate who’d try to stiff you after he’d already stiffed you, no, you needed a big spender, a high roller.  You needed somebody who had extra credits to throw around and wore it on his sleeve.

You needed a guy like the one who had just walked in— with beskar on his sleeve.  That’ll do quite nicely, you thought to yourself as you watched the Mandalorian cross the room to talk to the bartender.  

Seemed like he was here on business, unfortunately, from the way he didn’t even venture a glance at you or any of the other women skulking about; but then again, you couldn’t be entirely sure where he was looking with that big helmet covering his face.  It might not be the easiest sell, but you were determined to get this guy for the night— and, more importantly, his money.

Walking up to the bar with your best sultry saunter, you leaned in beside him and smiled as he turned his head to look at you.  "Hey," you purred.  "Haven't seen you around before.  We don't get a lot of new faces around here… even when they're hidden."

He didn't say anything, which was a little concerning, but his head tilted down a bit as if he was looking at your body, which was a good sign.

“What brings you to Tatooine, hm?  Business…” you trailed off as you ghosted your fingertips over his armor-clad forearm, “or pleasure?”

“Business is my pleasure,” he informed you sternly.

“And pleasure is my business,” you countered with a smirk.  Before you could say anything else, the bartender returned with a sack in his palm that he tossed into the Mandalorian’s hands, something metallic jingling inside.

“For a job well done,” he explained with a crooked, toothy smile, “as promised.”

“Payday, huh?” you noticed, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.  “Never comes often enough, amirite?”

Your quip was met with tense silence as he slipped the bag into a sack at his waist.  He turned to leave, but you reached out for his shoulder and stopped him.  

“Wait,” you requested, desperation starting to taint your tone of voice.  He spun and faced you again, and you tried to keep your body language relaxed and sensual in spite of your stress.  “What are you gonna spend all that on?”

“My ship,” he decided after a quick moment.

“Why not spend it on yourself?  You must be tired after working a long, hard day,” you sighed sympathetically, stepping a little closer.  “Why don’t you stay a bit longer and take a moment to relax?”

It didn’t seem like he knew what to do with that, and you motioned to a wide, cushioned chair nearby.  Amazingly, it worked; he walked to the chair with that swagger of his, the blaster at his hip suddenly so much more obvious with the way it swung with every step.  As soon as he sat down, you put a leg up beside him, straddling him slightly but leaving enough space to (hopefully) have him wanting more.

“You must be getting hot under there,” you smiled, making sure the double entendre was obvious.

“Maybe I am,” he shrugged.

“All this heavy armor... does it get uncomfortable?”

“I’m comfortable,” he denied.

“Good,” you purred before biting down on your lip as you rubbed his chest— or, rather, his chestplate.  “You know, I’ve heard that Mandalorians are even harder underneath the steel.”

He paused a little before he answered.  “Only in a few key places,” he finally replied, his gloved hand reaching to brush over your thigh.  You grinned, knowing you finally had him.

“Why don’t you come to my room and show me?” you suggested.

“I imagine your time isn’t free,” he observed.

“Fifty credits for an hour, or a hundred for the whole night,” you enumerated.

“That’s a little steep,” he noted with a tone of irritation.

“It’s my price,” you shrugged, “take it or leave it.”

“I’ll leave it,” he decided, shoving you back and standing up to leave.

“No, wait,” you blurted out, “eighty for the night.”

“I don’t have all night,” he informed you sternly.  “Twenty for the hour.”

“Twenty?!” you squawked.  “What kind of girl do you take me for?”

He grabbed your wrist tightly, suddenly, and pulled you into him.  “A whore,” he answered with a rough growl, “and apparently not as cheap as you look.”

You swallowed dryly, irritated by his attitude but desperate for the cash you knew he had.  “How often do you come through Mos Eisley?” you asked quietly.

“As rarely as I can manage,” he replied.

“If you pay a hundred now, I’ll be here every time you come in, for as long as you need,” you offered.  “Standing order, permanently.”

It was difficult to negotiate with someone whose face you couldn’t see: you weren’t sure if the silence was him considering it, or just watching you squirm in his grasp for fun.  

“A hundred,” he repeated slowly, “for whatever I want.”

“Whatever you want,” you nodded quickly.

“Whenever I want,” he added.

“Whenever you want.”

He let go of your wrist and you stumbled back, rubbing the sore skin with your other hand.  “Show me to your room,” he requested suddenly.

You led him back behind a few tattered curtains, past the hall and up the stairs to your cramped apartment.  It wasn't much, but the red silk draped everywhere and the incense burning in the corner certainly set the mood for the work you did.  Your door slid shut automatically behind him, and normally this is the part where he’d kiss you or you’d kiss him, but that was sort of impossible in his current state.  With an awkward pause, you waited for him to undress.

“Take off your clothes,” he instructed instead— and it was even more dominant than you expected, but you were happy to oblige as you untied the strip of fabric keeping your flowy tunic together, letting it fall off of your shoulders and onto the floor.  You didn’t have anything else on, just for the sake of simplicity, and he said nothing as he stepped forward until he was just inches away from you.

He quickly disposed of his gloves to touch you with his bare hands; his rough, warm skin over your waist and hips and breasts was a strong contrast to the worn leather, and even moreso to the hard, cold beskar.  His skin was tan, especially considering that it rarely saw the sun, and you let yourself imagine what the rest of him would look like based on that long with the subtle dusting of dark hair that extended from his arms.  Of course, in your mind, he was stunningly gorgeous, because it was more fun for you that way.  The way he spun you around quickly and forced you to bend over the edge of your bed made you realize he wasn’t as interested in your fun, though.

You yelped a little at the unexpected force, and again when he slapped your ass out of nowhere.  

“You’d better make it worth my while, after I paid a hundred credits,” he grunted.

“Of course,” you agreed quickly, looking back to see him slipping to fingers underneath the edge of his helmet.

“Don’t turn around,” he growled.  “Don’t look back.”

“Okay,” you nodded nervously as you whipped your head back to face in front of you, staring diligently at the dark red comforter beneath you, “I— I won’t.”

You heard the rustle of clothing and a sigh of relief— noticeably one not modulated through the helmet speaker.  Unceremoniously, his helmet was tossed down onto the bed beside you, bouncing and rolling a bit before it found purchase on your quilt.

Next must have been his trousers, as you heard his heavily-equipped belt fall to the floor just before the subtle little grunt you’d come to know as the sure sign that a man had freed a throbbing cock from the confines of his trousers.  He roughly kicked your legs apart, grabbing your hips and using them to hold you up as he started to grind his bare cock against your slickened folds.  You could tell by the way his shaft spread your lips that you had no chance of taking him— he was too thick, you couldn't even tell how long he was yet but he was definitely too thick.

He must have realized something similar, because he pushed you forward a bit; you realized he was looking down at your pussy, which made your face burn with embarrassment.

"Get yourself wet for me," he instructed firmly.  

You didn't think you would ever be able to get wet enough to fit him.  "How?" you asked.

"I don't care how, just do it.  You have thirty seconds."

You gasped a bit but shoved your hand between your legs and frantically rubbed your clit— it didn't really feel that good, with the pressure and fear overwhelming your senses instead of pleasure.  And he didn't make it any easier on you by literally counting each second.  You got a bit wetter, sure, and you'd already been turned on from earlier, but it was still not gonna do you much good against the monster he intended on putting inside you at any moment.

"Fifteen," he continued counting, his voice dropping so much deeper all of a sudden.  "Fourteen."

Halfway out of time already and you weren't that much more wet than when you started.  Your mind was racing with thoughts of everything sexy you could manage to conjure— his voice did help, the deep timbre reverberating right up your spine as anxious fear started to blend in with forced arousal.  You tried to focus on the ways that being fucked by a faceless, mysterious stranger was sexy, rather than the ways it was terrifying.

"Ten," he counted, his voice changing as you heard him smile— you weren't sure how you could hear it, but you could.  "There you go, I can see it now."

You whimpered a little, the sound catching in your throat as fingers suddenly teased your entrance, not quite pushing in but threatening to.  As they swirled around your folds, a lewd wet sound filled the air, mixing in with your heavy breathing and his dark chuckle.

"You hear that?" he asked, and you nodded quickly.  "Just a few seconds left, make them count."

Rubbing faster, you felt your hips start to rock of their own volition, similarly to the way your walls were clenching around nothing in search of being filled.  

"Three, two, one," he finished as you felt the thick head of his cock start to push against you.  You dropped your hand, knowing you'd need both to stabilize yourself.  "You want it?" he asked roughly.

"Yes," you answered, your voice coming out weaker than expected.

"Beg for it," he instructed coldly.

"Put your cock in me, please—" was all you could get out before the words stopped in your throat as he suddenly pushed in.  You were barely processing the first inch as he barreled past your resistance to shove the next few in.  It already felt like you would run out of room inside your body before he ran out of cock.

"F-fuck," you hissed, "slow down.  You're too big."  You hoped maybe he'd take pity on you if you phrased it as a compliment.  You were wrong.

"You're a whore," he reminded you, "can't you take it?  It's all you're good for, anyways."

That got you to shut your mouth as he thrust himself completely into you, finding the end of you easily with the head of his cock while your hands clutched the bedsheets for dear life.  You winced but managed to suppress a cry as he started to fuck you, not quite fast yet but so much deeper than your brain could process.  "Ffffuu-uuck," you stammered, the sting starting to fade but the overwhelming pressure never really letting up.

"How's it feel?" he asked, almost sounding like he could moan but holding back.  "Don't lie."

You realized, then, that he didn't want you to fake pleasure like most clients did— he wanted to see your pain, and know he caused it.  He enjoyed hurting you.  You swallowed the lump in your throat and whimpered your honest reply: "Hurts."

"Good."

His balls slapping against your clit only added to the overwhelming sensations you were trying so hard to ignore, pain and pleasure becoming indistinguishable all of a sudden.  You could tell your walls were clamping down on him as pressure built in your gut and threatened to push past the point of no return.  Your moan was so much louder than you expected it to be, broken and guttural and animalistic. 

He pulled your hair roughly, making you yelp.  “That’s right,” he instructed through his teeth, “fuckin’ scream for it.”

“Fuck!” you sobbed loudly.  

He leaned forward and it felt like his body would surround yours, somehow, especially when he reached down to roughly grope one breast and then another.  He never stopped thrusting through it all, even when his head fell exhaustedly between your shoulder blades— it was so odd to be able to feel his forehead and hair on your skin but have no idea what his face looked like at all.

The telltale signs of orgasm were arriving in your body— your thighs quivered, your voice cracked, your walls and clit throbbed with need.  It felt like you could read every detail of his cock inside your silky wet heat, like the ridge of his leaking head was rubbing up against your swollen g-spot with every thrust.  You felt as if being so full of him had forced you to vacate your mind, too, to accommodate his size— as if that were possible.  

Either he sensed your peak approaching as well, or he just had convenient timing.  "Wanna feel you come around it," he grunted.  "Can you come for me?  Or are you completely useless?"

“‘M close,” you warned him as your answer, shame sending a shiver up your spine even though you felt guilty for it.

“Then come,” he ordered, “right fuckin’ now.”

It was odd how that actually did push you over the edge, his brutal thrusts and degrading words creating a perfect storm inside you as the friction became too much to bear.  You sobbed as it wracked through you, arching your back absent-mindedly, clenching your legs together as best you could with his legs in between them.  He didn’t stop fucking you through it, which meant that the sensation built to the point of ‘too much’ extremely quickly as your attempts at begging for mercy were lost to breathless moans.  Overwhelmed, your body collapsed onto the bed limply, your hips only staying up because he held them up, like your weight was nothing to him at all.

"Yeah, just like that,” he taunted, “fuckin' come on my cock, fuck— you're just a dumb slut, huh?  You love getting fucked like the desperate, needy fucktoy you are, is that it?"

"Y-yes," you whined weakly, cheeks burning at the feeling of him using your body— or maybe it was from the head rush caused by the afterglow of your orgasm. 

"You like it when it hurts,” he posited.  “You want me to hurt you."

"Yes— don't stop, please…" you whimpered, quiet but definitely loud enough for him to hear.

“Not gonna stop,” he promised, “‘til you’re full of my come.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, voice sounding hoarse and thin.  It had been a while since you lost your voice because of a session… and since you had walked funny for a few days afterwards.  This one was definitely going to do both.

As his hips started to slam harder and faster into yours, you really hoped it was a sign that he was close; his raspy groans made you sure of it, though.  You could feel his cock swelling and flexing, incredibly, and it made you a little light-headed but it made your overstimulated walls throb around him as well.

With one deep, exhausted growl from the man behind you, a warmth began to spread through you from the inside out.  When he released his grip on your hips, you fell onto the bed with a sigh and a thud.  A hand appeared in your peripheral vision to snatch the helmet off of your bed, and it only took him a few moments to stuff his softening cock back into his trousers and magically be dressed again.  Funny how he looked exactly the same as he had half an hour ago, meanwhile you were confident you looked totally fucked-out and fucked-up.

“You’re a good fuck,” he offered a monotone compliment as he pulled on his gloves, staring down at you as you slipped your robe back on and tried to ignore the warm sticky feeling between your legs.

“You’re… intense,” you replied, chuckling a little.  “Guess I’ll see you around, then.”

He didn’t respond, or leave, but just stood there looking at you for a minute as you stood up and adjusted yourself, trying not to limp noticeably because you figured he didn’t need any more ego.  “‘Whenever I want’ only applies when I’m on this planet,” he observed suddenly, interrupting the silence, “which I try not to be.”

“You can come around as often as you like,” you explained.  You froze when he appeared behind you, reaching his arms out and caging you in against the wall the second you'd turned to face him.

“But wouldn’t it be so much more cost-effective if you were with me all the time?  On my ship?”

You whimpered a little as he leaned in closer, and you felt his gaze on you through the dark visor of his helmet even though you couldn’t see it.  “That… that wasn’t the deal,” you whispered nervously.

“The deal’s changed,” he growled, ignoring your yelps of pain as he manhandled you and pinned you to the wall by your neck before you could even try to fight back.  “Whatever I want, whenever I want,” he growled, “that’s what you said.  I’ll hold you to that.”

The leather gloves creaked softly as he tightened his grip on the sides of your neck, forcing your lips to fall into a useless gasp for air.  Your hands reached out to claw at his chest, a silent plea for release, but he wasn’t having it.  

“Whatever you want,” you barely managed to croak out as your vision started to go dark.  “Please, Mando…”

“Whenever I want?”

“Whenever, please,” you cried, tears stinging your eyes.  He let go, finally, and you crumpled at his feet.  Somehow, you’d managed to sell yourself into slavery— for a measly hundred credits.  This whole thing had begun with you needing to make rent, and it ended with you realizing you wouldn’t return to your apartment again at all.  

He didn't need to shackle or bind you to make you follow him to his ship; his power over you was nauseatingly effortless, but you weren't about to try to run from an unhinged warrior like him.  

You'd always wanted to leave Tatooine and explore the galaxy… this wasn't exactly how you'd imagined doing it, as a Mandalorian's whore, but there were worse fates.  Like being a Mandalorian's target.  And you planned on doing whatever he wanted you to if it meant avoiding that.

[traekenimagines]

Hunting Season, Part Seventeen: A Theo Raeken Imagine

Request from Anon: Hii, could you do a smut in which the reader is letting theo stay in her guest room instead of in his truck? and one day it’s really cold and stormy, so she goes to give theo extra blankets to keep warm and she walks in on him masturbating. Can you make it so that Theo is really flirty please? About my request, i really don’t mind what you write it as. Whatever you feel the most inspired by<3

So, I decided to make this Part Seventeen. Smut below the cut, as I’m sure you guys know by now. Hope this is okay for you lovely, and enjoy x 

“Are you sure about this, Y/N? I don’t mind staying in the truck, really.” Theo looked over at Y/N, who was being way too nice to him. She had offered to let him stay in her guest room after finding him sleeping in his car, and as he looked at her now, he realised that she had no ultimatum, no ulterior motive.

She was just being nice to him when he really didn’t deserve it.

God, he had never wanted her more.

The truth was he had spent many nights thinking about her in various positions, doing various things to him. In his dreams, he did equally filthy things back to her, wanting to make her scream his name, wanting to make her feel pleasure like she never had before.

“It’s fine, honestly.” The two turned to face the window as thunder rumbled outside. “You’ll be better off in here.”

“Okay, well, thanks.”

She smiled at him, and left Theo alone in the guest room. He pulled off his clothes, and instead put on the spare pyjama pants that she had left him, before climbing into bed. There was no point trying to sleep, not with the noise of the storm outside, so he tried to think of other things to do.

His mind wandered, as it so often did, to Y/N. Theo was conscious of an ache in his groin, of the hardening of his cock as he realised that she was only in the room next to him, that as she changed into her pyjamas, she would be naked.

He couldn’t help it when his hand wrapped around his cock and started pumping. He pictured her face as he did so, pictured her bent over the dresser in front of the bed, pictured fucking her. His movements sped up as his imaginary self mirrored his actions. He was almost there, so close to –

“Hey, so it’s got cold, and I thought – ”

Y/N dropped the extra blankets she was carrying as she looked at Theo, his hand wrapped around his cock. He expected her to say something, or just run out of the room. She did nothing, instead her bottom lip sliding between her teeth as her gaze lingered on him.

He could smell her arousal, was almost suffocated by it, and he couldn’t help but take advantage of that. She wanted him, that much was obvious, and with that pressure building in his stomach, the desire that smothered him, Theo decided to flirt, a wicked smile on his face. “Like what you see?” He moved his hand slowly up and down his cock, toying with her. “You know, Y/N, you could have this if you wanted to. It’s you I’ve been thinking of.”

She didn’t move, and Theo was pretty sure she had never been in a situation like this before. So, he decided to make it easier for her. He took of his pyjama pants, exposing himself fully, and climbed off the bed, over to her. “Come on, princess. Can’t you see how much I need you?”

He nudged his cock against her leg, grabbing the waistband of her own pants. She had no underwear on, which would make this ten times easier. He bit down on her earlobe softly, listening to her heartbeat accelerate. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” Theo slipped his fingers under her waistband, skirting around her core. “You’re so wet.” He kissed her neck. “And I think that it’s all for me.” He smirked against her skin before slipping two fingers inside of her. She whimpered as he did so. “Good girl.”

He moved his fingers in and out of her slowly at first, letting her set the pace of how this was going to go. “That okay?”

And then Y/N did something he wasn’t quite expecting.

She grabbed his cock, and Theo groaned. God, the feel of her hand against him was better than anything he could have conjured up in his dreams. She didn’t start slow in her movements, instead going hard and fast as she pumped him. He matched her speed as he fucked her with his fingers, satisfied when he curled his fingers inside of her and she came over them.

He was quick to follow in his release, and as he looked at Y/N, he noticed how she was wearing a devilish grin. He removed his fingers from her, letting her undress completely. There was a change in her demeanour; gone was the nice girl who had kept him sheltered from the storm, replaced by one who wanted nothing more than to fuck him.

He was never one to deny a lady what she wanted, especially when she finally spoke, when if it was as if she had read his mind. “You’re going to fuck me, Theo Raeken, and you’re going to do it until I tell you to stop.” Theo watched in amazement, his cock already hard again, as she walked over to the dresser at the end of the bed, and bent over it. “Are you coming or not?”

Oh he would be coming, he was sure of that. 

In a few strides, Theo was positioned at Y/N’s entrance, his hand on the back of her neck. His first thought was to enter her slowly, but judging by her sudden change in behaviour, her lust for him, he knew that wasn’t what she wanted.

It wasn’t what he wanted either.

Obscenities spewed from Y/N’s mouth as Theo slammed into her over and over again. She begged for him to fuck her, to bury himself deep, to go faster and harder. He obliged, burying himself to the hilt, telling her just how fucking good she felt around his cock, just how tight, how wet she was, just how much he had been wanting this.

Theo usually hated being the person to reach release first, but with Y/N he couldn’t help himself. He pulled out at the right moment, the product of his release falling onto Y/N’s back as he growled. Panting, he watched as Y/N turned around, lifting herself onto the dresser, eyes on his dripping cock.

He needed her to come too, needed her to feel what he had felt, needed her to know that he was the one who had made her come undone. He crouched down, spreading her thighs apart with a violent force.

She pulled at his hair as he licked up her centre. She whined as he feasted on her like he had been starved.

She couldn’t contain her screams when finally she came, Theo licking up every last drop of her.

He stood, ready to grab some towels, ready to clean the both of them up when Y/N grabbed his arm. He looked at her, looked at the fury in her expression, the desperation for him, and it was then that he remembered he was under orders.

She hadn’t told him to stop yet.

And as he entered her again, he realised that he had no intention of doing such a thing. 

Hunting Season Masterlist

Masterlist

[rosethornxs]

So I am going through it with a cold right now (at least I hope it’s just that, my rapid test was negative), and I’ve been having more thoughts about our dearest Boba Fett. You can find my first caregiver!Boba headcanons here.

GN!Reader, no warnings.

As I’ve said previously, Boba makes sure you’re well taken care of when you’re not feeling well. He’ll either care for you himself, or have someone he trusts look after you. He makes sure you have food that actually interests you and fluids to keep you hydrated, and he makes sure you’re comfortable and that anything you could possibly need or want is available to you.

Right now, I have a pretty nasty cough, I get like this anytime I have a cold. It’s so bad that my back, chest, and head hurt from coughing so much.

Boba would definitely try to help you out with this. He’d put a humidifier in your room with a bit of eucalyptus oil (yes, that exists in Star Wars because I said so) to make sure your lungs and sinuses clear up a bit easier. He’d also draw you a nice hot bath — as hot as you can stand it — with bath oils and more eucalyptus. He’d tell you just to sit back and relax and let the steam do its work. He might gently wash your hair, dragging his fingertips across your scalp and through your hair. He knows some pressure points to help with headaches on your temples and the base of your skull so he’d massage those. He’d rub your neck and shoulder, helping to release any tension you’ve built up from coughing and then her gently massage your face to help ease the pain of enflamed sinuses.

If you wanna stay in the warm water longer he might read to you or play some music and when you’re ready he’d help you out of the tub and towel you dry. He’d pull out his own clean shirt because he knows how much you like the soft fabric and the way it smells like him — like cloves and something earthy. He’d drape it over your shoulders but tell you not to button it just yet. Then he’d pull out a little tub of vaporub (yes this also exists in Star Wars, just trust me) and scoop some onto his fingers. He’d rub it between his hands to warm it up before instructing you to lie back so he can spread it across your chest. His movements would be so gentle but his hands a little rough from the scarring and just work in general. He’d smear the vaporub down your sternum and up your throat spreading it all over to it can have the maximum effect. When he’s done with the front he’d ask you to sit up and he’d tug the back of his shirt down so he could do the same thing to your back. His hands would feel heavenly, of course — so big and warm, knowing exactly where and how to touch you to make you feel better.

Once he’s done with that he’d arrange the pillows so you’re not lying flat because that always sucks when your nose is congested (you know, when one side is all stuffy and gross and the other is dry as the desert and everything is agonizing). When he’s sure you’re perfectly comfortable he’ll tuck you in with as many blankets as you want and then he’ll bring you some tea (sleepytime tea, which also exists, don’t question it).

If you need anything at all he has a little comm set up and tells you to just buzz him and he’ll come right away, doesn’t matter if he’s in the middle of something, your comfort and well-being are his priority.

If you want to sleep, something he definitely encourages, he’ll dim the lights, put on some white noise, kiss your forehead and take his leave. If you’re not tired, he’ll either stay and read to you some more (a headcanon you can read about here) or he’ll put on a holodrama for you and do a bit of work in the other room.

Boba would do the most for you when you’re sick (he always does the most for you because he’s bad at words and shows his affection through acts of service). Soft Boba, my beloved, we have no choice but to stan.

Tags: @saradika @thesithformerlyknownaskenobi @keeper0fthestars @readsalot73 @holding-on-to-starwars @thefact0rygirl @zinzinina

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 14

Dabi x Reader , Bakugo x Reader

Words : 6689

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together.

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

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It had been three weeks since Dabi left and in those three weeks you hadn’t heard a peep from him. True to his word he never called you. Shoto seemed to be getting vague updates from Katsuki but nothing that could settle your nerves.

You threw yourself into working out to distract yourself. You refused to ever be weak again. Every day you got up early and hit the home gym that you built with Dabi’s money in his absence. You were surprised how good it felt to spend his money without his permission. You knew he had enough to go around, but it was almost like payback for him leaving you here without him.

The gym was simple. A treadmill, some free weights, and a punching bag.

The guys took turns coming to check on you. Shoto more than the others, which was fine with you considering he was the only one with the balls to spar with you. You didn’t know if they were scared of you, Dabi, or Katsuki. But whoever it was, they were keeping their hands to themselves. And that’s how you ended up here now pinned underneath Shoto’s knee.

“I told you, stop thinking so hard. Your moves are predictable, I can read your every move before you do it. You need to relax and trust your instincts.”

You shoved him off of you and sat up, putting your elbows on your knees.

“I knew I’d be rusty… but I didn’t think it’d take this long to get back into shape.”

Shoto handed you a water bottle and sat next to you. “Well you’ve always been good, but you’ve also relied on your quirk pretty heavily up until now. You’ll get there, just takes time.”

You sat for a while in silence. That’s another thing you appreciated about Shoto. His ability to find comfort in shared silence. He never forces a conversation or pushes you to talk about things you don’t want to.

“So how long can you stay this time?”

His mismatched eyes met yours with a guilty look. “Honestly I’ve already been here a little too long. My shift starts soon, and I have a long drive.” He sighed as he screwed the cap back onto his water bottle. “Last I heard from Bakugo there wasn’t really much change but they’re both still alive and well. I’m supposed to be hearing from him again sometime in the next few days. So, I should have a better update the next time I see you.”

You followed him to the front door, feeling your heart sink as you went. You hated this part. The part when they left. There wasn’t exactly a schedule, they just came and went when they could. It was incredibly lonely when it was just you and you were already getting anxious thinking about it. “I wish he’d just come home already. I hate being here alone…”

Shoto sighed with his hand on the door. “I can only imagine… I’ll see what I can do about getting you some better company. Maybe we can rework our shifts or something… I don’t know, but we’ll figure something out.” He reached a hand out and gently pressed it to your shoulder, “Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone, and for the love of god follow my idiot bothers laws.” His eyes twinkled, “Oh! That reminds me…ware your fucking collar… his words not mine.”

Your eyes bulged. Those where the first words you’d gotten from him since he left. Your fingers darted to your bare neck, “I-It’s charging… the battery doesn’t last forever.”

Shoto chuckled, “Well according to him you haven’t worn it for two days. He interrupted my last call with Bakugo just to tell me.”

“I guess I should have known he’d be watching the stats like the creep his is.” You rolled your eyes and tried to suppress the blush that was threatening to break out across your cheeks. Of course he was watching. Watching the tracker to make sure you were where you were supposed to be. Watching your vitals to makes sure you were staying healthy. Watching your call log to make sure you weren’t doing anything you weren’t supposed to be doing.

For the first time since he left you felt an odd giddy feeling. It reminded you of the feeling you’d get when you were in school and a boy you had a crush on liked one of your pictures on social media. It wasn’t direct interaction, but it was a reminder that he cared.

Shoto gave you a quick hug before leaving, reminding you to lock the door as he went.

As soon as you heard the security system signal that is was on, the empty feeling returned. You were alone again. By yourself. With only your thoughts to keep you company… how awful.

You dragged yourself over to the where your collar was charging and put it back on. Your fingers brushed over the familiar material. A warm feeling started to push through the empty feeling in your stomach as you thought about how Dabi was probably checking on you every chance he got. The least you could do was reassure him that you were okay.

Despite being able to talk again you had decided to keep up with the sign language. It was a good distraction and also something really helpful to know. You learned from Shoto that Izuku had learned sign just in case Katsuki went deaf, and he ended up teaching Shoto. So it seemed it could definitely come in handy down the road.

You also spent a great deal of time watching cooking shows and trying to learn some things.

You were never that great with cooking before, hell you didn’t even really know how to efficiently shop for groceries. You were rarely home, and when you were you were ordering in or letting Katsuki cook for you. But now that you were home alone for days at a time, you decided it was time you learn.

Tonight, you watched a video on how to sign different colors and numbers as you attempted to make rice balls. The chef made it look so easy in the video you watched earlier. But so far you were finding it to be incredibly difficult.

You were trying to take this time alone to improve yourself. Now that he wasn’t here it was easier to see how much you had relied on Dabi. You wanted him to come back to a new and improved you.

You sat down to dinner with your pathetic looking rice balls and fought to push down the empty feeling in your stomach once again. The loneliness killed your appetite, you could feel yourself sinking into a funk. Every day it got harder to convince yourself that eating was important, that getting out of bad even mattered, that working out was worth it.

But then you thought about what Dabi would say if he found out you weren’t taking care of yourself. He’d probably bend you over his knee and spank you for even thinking about skipping a meal.

So even though your depressed brain tried really hard to convince you that you weren’t hungry, you shoved bite after bite into your mouth. He’d be livid if you so much as lost a pound while he was gone.

You thought about the way he loved to worship your body. How he groaned when his hands gripped your hips. How his hands traveled up your thick thighs and around to your ass before giving it a squeeze and… great… now you’re working yourself up.

There had been several times your needs had riled you up to the point where you had tried to take care of them yourself. But no matter what you did or how hard you tried, you hadn’t been able to get yourself off. Your hands were no comparison to Dabi’s.

You let out a frustrated growl as you dropped your plate into the sink.

Once again you had this burn in your core that was spreading and you were already frustrated knowing there was nothing you could do about it. You didn’t even have any toys to help and there was no way you could ask one of the guys to bring you one the next time they came. You flushed at the image of Shoto or Izuku handing you a vibrator.

With the ache between your legs only seeming to grow worse, you skipped to your bedroom, well Dabi’s bedroom, but you guess it was yours now too.

You were sweaty from your workout and was in desperate need of a shower which gave you the perfect idea.

You quickly stripped your clothing and stepped into the hot spray of the shower you quickly washed your hair and body before turning the hot water down a little to a nice room temperature.

With nervous hands you pulled the shower head down from it’s spot and played with the settings. You switched between them until you found one that seemed… promising?

The shower head slowly roamed from your neck to your chest, to your nipple. You sucked in a breath as you closed your eyes and tried to pretend that it was something or rather someone else. Your breathing picked up as the spray slowly moved further down until it reached the spot that was giving you all the trouble.

Suddenly a jolt of pleasure ran through you and you had to put a hand on the wall to keep yourself from falling over. A low moan fell from your lips and you rolled your hips against the pressure. “Oh god. Oh shit. YES!” It had been weeks since you last orgasmed and you could feel everything that had been building coming to a climax… literally.

Your breathing became erratic as you imagined rough callused fingers rubbing your clit while wet, sloppy lips mouthed at you neck. Your head swam with desire as you felt the familiar clenching in your core.

Then out of nowhere you felt your pleasure snap as your first orgasm in weeks washed over you in heavy waves. “FuUuck!” Your legs wobbled and almost buckled underneath you. Your orgasm seemed to go on way longer than any one you’ve had in recent memory. It just kept going and going till the point that you thought you couldn’t breathe.

Your legs crumpled underneath you and you fell as your orgasm finally finished.

After a few minutes you used your foot to turn the water off as your breathing finally started to even out.

Your heart practically leapt out of your throat as your collar started beeping with an incoming call. You answered it immediately in the hopes that it was Dabi.

“H-Hello?”

“Y/N!? Are you okay?”

That voice didn’t belong to Dabi but it was probably the second best option.

“Kats? Y-yeah I’m fine. W-why do you ask?” You sucked in a huge breath to help yourself come back down from your high.

“Dabi said he got an alert that your vitals were at dangerous levels. Apparently, your heartbeat was erratic… You workin out or somethin?”

You blushed and cleared your throat, “Or something.”

There was a brief silence on the other end before you heard a muffled curse. “Fuck, okay so you’re more than good.” You could almost hear the blush in his voice. “Sorry to interrupt… have a good night…”

Before he could hang up you panicked and shouted, “WAIT!”

“… Yeah?”

“How are you guys?” You hated how weak you sounded. How desperate you sounded for any update on their progress.

“We’re alive and making good progress. That’s all I can really say right now.”

“Good okay… hey uh Kats… please be safe. Both of you.”

“We’ll try… I gotta go now. Good night y/n.”

Before you could respond you heard the beeping, indicating that he had hung up.

Groaning you picked yourself up and made your way to the big comfy bed that just felt too big now that it was just you. You pulled one of Dabi’s shirts on that dwarfed you and queued up a movie on the TV.

Sleep didn’t take long to take you and your last thoughts were of how monotonous your life was now. You go to bed, wake up, work out, work on Sign Language, watch cooking shows, cook dinner, rinse repeat.

You just needed something to mix it up.

And your wish would be granted not even two days later when Kirishima showed up at your door with pointy toothed grin. “Hey Y/N! How’s it going? Gone crazy yet?”

“I think I went crazy years ago bud.” You giggled as you stepped to the side to let him in. Instead he just stood there looking at you funny. “So are you coming in or did you just drop by to stare at me and leave?”

“Oh! Right? Hold on… close your eyes! I have a surprise.”

You narrowed your eyes but complied with a sigh. “Kiri I swear if this surprise is a wet willy, I will hypnotize you and make you pee yourself.”

He was quiet as he tiptoed away quickly. Only moments later you heard the pitter patter of him trying and failing to sneak up on you. You knew he was next to you now, but you kept your eyes closed anyways.

“Kiri what are you—”

You shrieked as a wet tongue licked you from your chin to your ear. “WHAT THE FUCK KIRI!”

Your eyes bolted open to see a crying Kiri holding a puppy. He was laughing so hard you were scared he was going to drop the dog.

You reached out and yanked the puppy from him and could immediately feel yourself sinking into its soft fur. “Oh my goodness! Who is this sweat baby?”

You nuzzled into and started rubbing its soft ears.

“He is your new guard dog. Well he’s more of a guard puppy, but you get the point.”

He started to walk back towards his car, “Wait? Are you leaving already?”

He gave you a regretful look, “Yeah sorry princess, I only had time to come drop off your new friend. I have to go pick up my kid from school, but I think I’m coming back soon. I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.” With a wink he hopped into his car and sped away.

You were only sad for a brief moment before you scurried back inside with your new friend.

You plopped yourself down on the couch with the puppy sitting in your lap. He was a little ball of fur with big ole paws and floppy ears. From what you could tell he might be an Australian Shepheard. “What are we going to call you huh?”

The little furball cocked his head at you and started chewing on your fingers.

“Hmmm what about Buddy? No that’s cliché. Ajax? He was the strongest warrior in all of Greece.” You watched as the “warrior” in question sniffed his own butt. “Hm maybe not. What abouuuuut… Bravo?”

He looked at you and gave the cutest little “woof”

You smiled and scratched behind his ears. “Okay then Bravo it is. Welcome to your new home sweet boy.”

Bravo was exactly what you needed in order to break out of your slump. You could feel your serotonin rise every day as you bonded with him. He was keeping you company and also keeping you very busy. Between poddy training and teaching him basic commands he was a handful. He loved to follow you everywhere you went and nip at your ankles until you paid attention to him.

It was amazing how quickly Bravo was becoming the most important thing in your life. Since Dabi left you had frequent nightmares that often led to anxiety attacks once you woke up. But now you had a fuzzy four-legged friend who not only woke you up when you cried in your sleep but also laid on top of you until you calmed down. You almost laughed thinking about how Dabi would react when he came home. You knew he’d find a way to be jealous of a dog.

Bravo settled into a routine with you and he never let you out of his sight. He really had the potential to be an excellent guard dog. He was extremely smart, picking up new tricks and commands easily. He was perceptive. And most importantly he didn’t hesitate to attack any of the guys, in his cute puppy way, when they came to visit. He was one hundred percent a Mamma’s boy.

Today had been a weird one. It was officially a month since the boys left. You stayed in bed a little longer than usual but you had responsibilities now and Bravo wasn’t going to let you be sad all day. He decided growling and pulling on your blanket was the best way to get you attention.

“Bravo, no. I know you want to play, just let me be sad a little longer, and then we’ll go outside.” You knew he didn’t understand you, but it felt so nice to just talk to him even if he can’t respond.

Bravo continued to jump and bark at you obviously trying to get you play with him. You rolled your eyes as you threw the blanket off of you. “Alright, alright, I get it. Let’s go outside.”

You rolled out of bed and pulled your hair into a bun. It was cold out now, and it even looked like it might snow soon. You used to love the snow, but the older you got the more miserable it sounded. You pulled a pair of sweatpants and a baggie hoodie on and started to drag your feet towards the back door. “You couldn’t let me wallow for even a couple hours huh?”

You slid the sliding glass door open and Bravo took off into the backyard.

The sky was a dark and depressing shade of grey. You could see your breath escaping you and it made you shiver. “Okay Bruno let’s make this quick! It’s fucking cold…” You shoved your hands in your pockets as Bravo sprinted from one side of the yard to another before stopping to sniff a spot on the fence to pee. “Good boy Bravo… let’s go in now. Eat some breakfast, how does that sound?”

Snow started to fall and before long you could feel it soaking through your hoodie. “BRAVO! You little shit, come on it’s cold!”

He ran towards you like he was going to listen before turning at the last second and running off to the side. You groaned. You loved the dog, but it was times like this that reminded you how frustrating taking care of another living thing could be.

You took a couple steps towards him and he just stood there wagging his goofy little tale. You leapt towards him just for him to run off again in the other direction. “I swear Bravo, if you love me at all you will come to me right now!”

You tip toed towards him slowly, “Come on dude. It’s too cold.” You were so close now, you just needed to scoop him up. You jumped at him but again he leapt out of the way except this time… your foot slipped on some fresh snow on the concrete surrounding the pool… and in you fell.

The ice-cold water cut through you straight to your bones like a million needles. You gasped which was a huge mistake as you sucked in water into your lungs. Now the panic was setting in. The last time you were in this pool you drowned. And this time there was no Dabi to resuscitate you. There was no one here. You could die here, and no one would even know for days.

No, no, no, this was not the time to have a panic attack. You had to think. You had to get out of this pool. But you couldn’t, the only thing you could think was how cold you were, how painful the water in your lungs was, how the cold water felt like you were being stabbed. You vision was blacking out, your limbs were becoming numb, you finally started to try and swim, but your muscles were so sluggish. It was agony trying to get your arms and legs to cooperate. Were you going into shock?

You felt yourself sinking and there was nothing you could do. Your baggie hoodie and sweatpants were only getting heavier on your limbs. It was like you had forgotten how to swim. Or like one of those dreams where it doesn’t matter how hard or how long you keep swimming you never make it to the surface. You expected your life to flash before your eyes, but it didn’t. Instead all you had was fear. Fear and regret. And those almost weighed you down more than your soaked clothes.

You have unfinished business. You had a corrupt hero system to dismantle. You had a life to reclaim. You had… people who loved you, and you couldn’t leave them behind just yet.

You pushed as hard as you could now. You refused to give up. Just before you blacked out your head broke the surface. You struggled to stay afloat as you managed to get yourself to the ladder. You gripped it with all your determination. Your breathing was getting shallow but you didn’t know if it was the panic or the cold.

You screamed as you tried to pull yourself out of the pool. It hurt so bad. Your muscles sched and it was almost like they stopped working all together. You could hear Bravo barking as he paced the side of the pool. As soon as you got your upper body on the concrete Bravo took your sleeve in his mouth and tugged. It wasn’t enough to pull you out on his own, but it definitely helped.

Your body was wracked with shivers. You were shivering so hard it hurt. Your collar was beeping but you couldn’t bring your fingers up to push the button to answer. You were literally frozen… from the cold, from the fear.

The beeping just continued, and tears flowed down your cheeks. All you had to do was move your hands, you just needed to push the button, and you could answer, you could ask for help. You knew Dabi had to have been alerted that you were in danger by now. Someone had to be coming for you.

Bravo laid on top of you licking your face as you lost your mind. The beeping from your collar kept going, and you don’t know what possessed you, it must have been one last surge of adrenaline, your bodies last effort to save yourself. But your fingers crawled towards your collard and clicked the button.

“Y/N! Thank god! I’ve been calling! Are you okay?” It was Kats again. You were quiet for a while as you tried to cough up some water. “Y/n? Are you okay? Or is this another… false alarm?”

You sniffled, “I-I-I F-Fe-Fe-ll I-In T-The-Pool.”

“Uhm Okay? Are you okay? Did you hit your head or something?”

A sob left you, “No! I-I’m Not O-Okay. I-I”

There was a muffled sound on the other end of the call, "Y/n, baby I need you to breathe. I know you’re scared. Can you get inside?”

“Dabi?” His voice filled you with the warmth you desperately needed, but it wasn’t enough to get your body moving. “No. I-Its t-too C-Cold. I-I-“

“Stop talking! Conserve your warmth. Shoto’s already on his way. He’ll be there soon baby. I’m going to stay on the phone with you until he gets there, but I need you to stay awake. Can you do that?”

Bravo curled up next to your neck and nuzzled into you while whining.

You don’t remember passing out. But when you woke up you felt like you were in an oven.

Your eyes slowly opened to find that you were under several blankets with Shoto sitting next to you with his hand on your forehead. “She’s still asleep… but I’m worried she’s getting sick. I’m pretty sure she has a fever.” He was on the phone with someone, “I keep going back and forth from trying to warm her up to cooling her down… Well what do you want me to do I’m not a doctor… Do you know anyone we can trust?” Whoever he was talking too was obviously not happy. “How do you suppose we do that?”

Your eyes closed and sleep claimed you once more. You tried to stay awake, but it seemed impossible. You didn’t even dream, you were just sucked into the black abyss.

The next time you woke up there was a cloth on your forehead and two voices whispering by the door.

“She probably needs an IV at this point. She’s been in bed for three days and she hasn’t eaten anything. Shoto this is more than just a cold. She’s really sick.”

You knew that voice belonged to Izuku. He sounded stressed out. Had he really said there days. There’s no way you had been sleeping that long.

“I agree, but where would we get one? Do you know how to set one up? No? Because neither do I. I swear all of you are crazy. First Dabi rips me a new asshole over the phone about how I was supposed to keep her safe, then Bakugo gives me shit for not being able to find her a doctor, and now you. I’m doing my best!”

You wanted to sit up and tell him you were fine. But you couldn’t because once again sleep was calling you back. The black abyss sucked you back in.

The next time you woke you felt slightly better, your head definitely hurt a little less.

“I can’t believe you idiots where hiding this from me? Did you not trust me, or did you just think you could dismantle the entire system on your own?”

When the fuck did Aizawa get here?

“You’ve been retired for years… we didn’t want to drag you into this.”

A brief silence passed, and it sounded like he was standing up from a chair, “Well I’m glad you did. She was in rough shape. The IV will help. Let me know if you need anything else. And I mean anything. Like you said… I’m retired now so I have a lot of free time.”

You managed to open your eyes, but had to squint at the bright light. “Was that Sensei?” Your voice sounded rough and foreign, but it was unmistakably yours.

Shoto’s mismatched eyes filled your vision, “Oh thank god you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

You tried to clear your throat but if felt like sandpaper, “Like shit…”

He climbed into bed next to you, “When I found you, you had hypothermia. I warmed you up but then you got really sick. I finally caved and had to call Aizawa. I don’t know how he knows how to set up an IV or how he even got his hands on all this medicine and medical equipment. But I’m not going to question it either.”

You leaned on him. “That was nice of him…” Your muscles still ached, and you you’re your skin was so sensitive. You just wanted to pass out again and wake up when all of this was over. “Where’s Bravo?”

At the sound of his name you felt a weight near your feet shift. He got up and made his way to you putting his head on your chest. His big fuzzy head was making you all warm and cozy. “I think I’m going to take a nap.”

“Y/n no, come on I need you to eat something. Seriously, it’s one of your laws, you have to eat, so you need to stay awake.”

You hugged your blanket to you. “I’ll eat when I wake up… promise.”

This time when you slept you had dreams waiting for you. They were all weird and generally involved your time at UA. You dreamt of sports festivals, hanging out with your friends, and training with Sensei. But for once you didn’t have a nightmare. Which was a blessing.

“Wake up… you need to eat something… open your eyes baby.”

You stirred and found that you were laying on top of something, or rather someone. A hand was wrapped tightly around your waist while the other was brushing your hair out of your face.

Your sleepy brain was desperately trying to figure out if you were still sleeping because this had to be a dream.

“Are you really here?”

A kiss was placed on your forehead, “Yes baby, I’m really here. And I really need you to eat something so you can get better.”

His words had your stomach growling, making your groan.

Your eyes opened to find his blue ones staring back at you. The amount of concern in them was startling. “I must look like shit if you’re looking at me like that.”

Dabi didn’t so much as crack a smile at your humorless joke. “Well by law I can’t lie to you… so yeah. You’ve definitely looked better.” His thumb brushed your cheek, “Nothing that can’t be fixed with a shower and a good meal though.”

He helped you sit up and fluffed some pillows behind you. “You don’t have to do all this. I’m feeling better now. I can do it myself—”

Dabi cut you off with a glare. “Does it look like I care. I’m sure you could take care of yourself, but when will you accept the fact that you don’t have to anymore. Stupid girl.”

He reached next to him and picked up a bowl of soup. “This will be easy enough on your stomach. You are going to eat every last bite, and then we are going to take a shower.”

He didn’t leave anything up for debate. It was a demand. “We?”

“Yes we. You’re not leaving my sight for the foreseeable future.” He held a spoon full of soup up to your mouth. You wanted to protest that you could at least feed yourself but quickly thought better when you saw the look he was giving you. He wasn’t to be challenged or questioned.

So, you accepted it and swallowed, your eyes never leaving his. You continued on like that until the spoon scraped the last bit of soup from the bowl. You could see the tension in Dabi’s clenched jaw. He was upset, possibly even mad.

Your eyes averted to your lap, “I’m sorry.”

“For what? What do you have to be sorry about?”

You played with hem of your shirt. Trying to look anywhere but at those intense blue eyes. “I fucked up. I was careless and I… I fell into the pool.” Your fists clenched, “It wouldn’t have been so bad if I wasn’t so fucking weak. I panicked, and it put me in danger. I’m sorry.”

His fingers intertwined with yours and pulled them to his lips. “You have nothing to be sorry for, and you are most definitely not weak.” He kissed the tip of your nose, “Look at me please.”

It was so rare that he said please. It sent butterflies through your stomach. You raised your eyes to his once more, but this time they were much softer. “Your panic is totally understandable. If anything, it’s my fault because I’m the reason you have fucking PTSD.” He pressed his forehead to yours, “I feel like no matter how hard I try, I just end up hurting you. Even when I’m not here, my actions still have consequences.”

“Well you know what I think? I think I wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for you. I think you have saved me in so many ways, and you have been there when it matters most. Like right now.” You tucked yourself under his chin and hugged him until you felt the tension bleed from him as he relaxed into your hold.

You felt his chest rise and fall as you both just sat there holding each other.

Finally, he pulled back and sighed, “Okay as nice as it feels to hold you again… you kinda stink… can we go shower now?”

You frowned, “Hey! I’ve been sick. It’s not like I could bathe myself. Did you want Shoto to do it for me?”

He growled and threw you over his shoulder. “You’re lucky. If I wasn’t worried about nursing your sick ass back to health, that comment would have gotten your ass in trouble.”

It wasn’t until Dabi was stripping you down in the bathroom that you remembered Bravo. “Hey! Where’s Bravo?”

Dabi froze, “Who the fuck is Bravo?”

You rolled your eyes, “My dog asshole. Bravo. Where is he?”

He growled, “That little shit wouldn’t let me near you, so I threw him out.”

You pushed his hands away from you, “Excuse me… You WHAT? It’s cold outside. Go bring him inside right now!”

He grabbed your flailing hands and held them down at your sides. “I said I threw him out, not outside. If I had to guess the little runt is probably sitting outside the door to the bedroom, waiting to sink his teeth into my ankles the second I open the door. Relax.”

He let go of your hands and continued to undress you, and then himself. “You be nice to him. That little ankle biter is my new best friend.”

“Hmmm I don’t think so.” His arms wrapped around your now naked body. He picked you up like you weighed absolutely nothing and walked you over to the shower. “I think I’m your best friend.”

You smirked as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “Oh you think so huh? So we’re friends now? That seems like a demotion to me…” You kissed his chest before pulling away. “Last time I checked friends don’t shower together… so I guess I’ll just get out and wait my turn—”

“Don’t you dare step out of this shower.” His fingers dug into your hips. “I haven’t seen you in a month, and I had to come home to find you sick and skin and bones.” He leaned in and you could feel his breath on the shell of your ear, “You are mine. I don’t think you truly understand what that means.” He kissed the side of your head, “You are my best friend.” He kissed your forehead, “My responsibility.” He kissed your cheek, “My confidant.” He kissed the tip of your nose, “My lover.” He kissed you jaw. “My partner.” His lips hovered over yours for a brief moment, “My everything.”

His lips smashed onto yours and you could feel all of your little puzzle pieces fit together again. The emptiness you had felt the past month evaporated. You felt whole once more.

There wasn’t anything overly sexual about this kiss. For the first time since you’ve known him, this was the first time Dabi had ever kissed you just to kiss you. And so you let him. You just stood under the water with him and kissed until you started to get lightheaded.

He must have felt your shift because he pulled away from the kiss and pulled you to lean on him. Without another word, he ran a washcloth over your skin and cleaned you up.

You remembered back to the days he’d help you bathe when you couldn’t walk. He’s taken such good care of you without asking for anything in return. So much as changed in the past few months, but there was something about this moment that felt permanent. Like no matter what happens Dabi will always be there to clean you up afterwards.

Dabi could feel the stress and the worry that had piled up over the last month melt away with every rise and fall of your chest. You were safe, you were okay, you were alive, you were in his arms.

Something almost broke in him when he heard the fear in your voice that day. When Bakugo called you after you fell in the pool. He had never felt so fucking helpless. He had a constant eye on your vitals after that. Calling his brother every single time there was even a tiny change. He’d never tell you this, but for a brief moment when Shoto couldn’t get your temperature down he panicked. He couldn’t lose you. Somewhere deep down he knew it was irrational to think you were going to die. But he couldn’t help it. You were sick, and only getting worse and he was thousands of miles away.

There was a constant nagging at the bag of his head of what if he didn’t get back in time. What if he didn’t get to say goodbye. What if… what if…

No. He’s fine now. You’re fine now. He had freaked out for no reason. You’re here, you’re safe, you’re alive, you’re his.

You had eaten the soup, showered, and taken your medication without even a hint of protest. You were being such a good girl for him. Doing everything he asked, never leaving his side.

It was obvious you missed him, and for some reason that made him feel… pride.

Now he had you curled up with him on the couch eating ice cream as you showed him all the things you had trained Bravo to do. You had a glint in your eyes as you commanded the furball to sit, lay down, roll over, and whatever the fuck else you had taught it.

Dabi had this weird feeling settle over him. Sitting here with you in his lap, as you ate ice cream and played with your dog. It felt like you had become… a family.

Family… was never a word that had inspired positive feelings for him. He had terrible memories of his old home life. He had a few fond memories of his siblings, maybe even some of his mother. But everything was overshadowed by the hell his father put him through.

But now he could feel that frozen heart of his, start to thaw out. He still struggles convincing himself that he doesn’t deserve you, and sometimes he still thinks you might be better off with Bakugo. But for now, you were his, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

His hand snaked down and spread out over your stomach and his chin rested on your shoulder. He watched Bravo hop into your lap and had to admit he was a little jealous of the little guy.

“Aw who’s a good boy? Who’s mommy’s good boy?” You squished Bravos cheeks together and kissed his nose.

“Okay enough with the dog. You’ve been loving on the dog since I got home. It’s my turn.”

You scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you feel threatened by a puppy.”

He flipped you over so you were chest to chest with him laying on top of you, caging you to the couch. “Of course I’m not threatened… but I’ve been gone a while and the mutts hogging all the attention.”

You giggled as he nuzzled into your neck demanding that you love him. “I can’t believe big, bad, who’s your daddy, Dabi is jealous of a little puppy.”

Your hands moved, one to his hair and the other snaked under his shirt and scratched his back. He hummed as his lips pressed a quick peck to your jaw. “I missed you…”

Your hands continued to trace patterns up and down his back. “I know. I missed you too.”

His breathing started to slow and he squeezed you closer to him. He started mumbling things as he slipped into the first peaceful sleep he’s had since he left.

“What was that? Dabi you’re mumbling honey.”

He let out a huge sigh and mumbled again only this time slightly louder, “Said ‘m gonna putta baby in you.”

*************

*The Laws* 1. No fucking shrugging 2. No drugs 3. No saying sorry for something that isn't your fault 4.We work on communication every day 5. Wake up whenever the hell you want 6. No locked doors 7. We eat three full meals a day 8. No means no, no negotiations 9. We work on exercise every day 10. Ice cream must be kept in stock at all times 11. Accept help when it is offered 12. No lying 13. I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.

************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe@unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry@dabislittlemouse@aimee1602@pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop@bakubby99 @squichymochi @sarahschance

[aminiatureworld]

Small Secrets II

Characters: Childe, Kaeya, Ningguang, gn!reader

Word Count: 3.717

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: It’s not that you wanted to keep it a secret from your loved one. It was simply that old habits are hard to break. But now people are talking, and it seems easier to go one as before.

In which the reader can transform into an animal.

Author’s Note: Had to do a surprising amount of research for this one.

Childe

Perhaps it was a cruel joke on Fate’s part that you were able to turn into a penguin. If so no one else was laughing.

It’d been jarring the first time it’d happened, an accident of stress. After that first incident you’d figured you’d never transform again, at least not willingly. Who wanted to be a greasy, flightless bird anyways? That had been your opinion, and you hadn’t intended on changing it. Until you learned how to swim.

Perhaps it was another joke, that you should become so enamored with the gliding that penguins could do when they finally waddled their way off land. The nearly soundless plunge as you dove beneath the water, not having to worry about running out of air as you sped along the lake nearby your Snezhnayan village. It was as if being trapped in a little pocket of paradise, one which you’d grown to love.

At first you didn’t really consider the repercussions of being involved with Childe in regards to your expeditions to the sea. So wrapped up had you been in the question of his Harbinger status that by the time you realized you might have a problem it was too late to think up any sort of plan. Of course, the days in which Childe was gone you could swim, could even find refuge in those frigid waters. But when he was there it was like walking on eggshells as you found yourself torn between your desire to swim and your need to keep your secret.

It didn’t help that winter was ending. Though Snezhnaya could be bitterly cold in the winter, and though your village was often considered next to inhospitable in the winter, the summertime brought with it a heat that made swimming near unbearable in your oiled feathers. After all, penguins only lived in the most southern part of Teyvat.

It was a beautiful day, the afternoon that you finally broke. The temperatures had plummeted during the night before, and those you shivered as you made your way to the stony beach that was your usual takeoff spot, you felt yourself brimming with anticipation, the prospect of a long overdue swim lying in front of you.

You thought of Childe only once, as you shinnied down the craggy slope that led to the beach. He’d said that there was a Fatui meeting going on at the town inn, and though it was sure to be dull and irritating there was truly no way to escape it. You sympathized with Childe, understanding the difficulties in sitting still for two hours, trying o act as if you weren’t aching to be somewhere else, but secretly you thought the meeting a blessing in disguise. Using the pretense of the Guild being somewhat slow – the Adventurer’s Guild in Snezhnaya was somewhat disorganized due to Fatui competition – you claimed the need for a trek in the snow, holding off Childe’s ill hidden words of worry with the knowledge that you’d lived here longer than he had. You felt little regret, knowing that you’d lied to him. After all you’d been drilled to keep this a secret since the moment you were made aware of it. And as much as you loved Childe, that would never change.

You stumbled a bit in your mad dash to the little cavern which shielded you as you transformed. You’d tried directly transforming in water once, but having pressure almost destroy your lungs was something you weren’t excited to repeat. So instead, you waddled about the icy gravel, silently cursing your speed. You could never get used to how slow penguins were on land, nor could you understand how once you hit the ocean you could speed along faster than any human might.

The water was clear and cool, the icy shock dulled by the layers around you. It was interesting to see the lake in this manner, eyes suddenly unclouded by passing sand and debris. You swam along lazily, staying in the middle layer of the lake. Though you knew that you were going up for breath more than was really necessary, you were feeling surprisingly lazy, and diving to the bottom felt like too much effort.

The sudden pull of your body upwards caused a shriek to escape you. Thrashing about wildly you attempted to dive deeper, mind suddenly clouded by confusion and panic. A voice was calling out to you from above, but you made no effort to comprehend it, too focused on keeping in the sanctuary of the water. Though you knew that you’d swum in the opposite direct of the village, the possibility of being discovered by a human, for your captor was surely a human, was no less terrifying.

As you broke the water you felt like your heart had seized up in your throat, if that was even possible for a penguin. Whirling around this way and that you pulled desperately for the water, for the place you’d be able to outswim this intruder. Your brain registered the familiar clothing of the person holding onto you, and your horror both eased and multiplied as their voice sang through the air.

“Woah there buddy. Calm down!”

You ceased your movements for a second, brain somewhat stalling. Partner. You’d just been dragged out of the water by your partner. If you hadn’t been a bird you would’ve certainly started screaming, or at least asking Childe what the fuck he was thinking skipping the meeting for this.

“There you go.” Childe’s voice was soft and soothing, using a tone that you knew was reserved only for nightmares, injuries, and emotional distress. “It’s alright, it’s alright buddy. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It’s not normal for penguins to be this far north you know. Besides the villagers have been calling you some sort of malevolent spirit and let me tell you, being harpooned isn’t very fun.”

Ruffling your feathers, you let out a squawk of indignancy, the idea that you’d actually get caught appalling. Childe just let out a laugh in return.

“I know, I know. No appreciation for the natural world. But that’s what it’s like in a village like this, insulated and unquestioning. You’re not the only one who’s suspicious; but let me tell you it’s better to be suspicious and free then stuck in the same place.” He let out a small sigh. “Even when our freedom comes at a price.”

You stared at him for a moment, taking in the soft sadness that radiated off the man you’d fallen in love with. Though a small piece of you felt pity, pity for the life Childe had been forced to live, the rest of you felt a melancholy sort of empathy, and in the center of that a kernel of trust. Childe’s words spoke to you, his status as an anomaly amidst the people who couldn’t understand the yearning to get away. Perhaps it would’ve been better if Childe was more content, staider, perhaps things would’ve been easier. Yet would you have fallen in love with that version of Childe? Would you feel as you did now?

Waddling towards solid ground, not trusting the large pieces of ice which bordered the lake, you closed your eyes. Immediately your form changed, your other self now shed like a second skin. Keeping your back turned away from Childe you stared at the snowy forest.

“You’re not the only one who feels trapped sometimes. I’m sorry that this village isn’t kind to you.”

“Oh the people are nice enough.” There was a wavering sort of humor in Childe’s voice, though you couldn’t tell if it was from shock or sadness.

“Still, I’m sorry. I realize that being here is stifling. Thank you, for visiting because of me.”

“Always.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”

“We all have our secrets.”

“Still. I’m sorry.”

You felt the damp press of a coat against your back, warm breath tickling the back of your neck as Childe let out a small sigh. Leaning backwards you closed your eyes. For a moment there was no sound but the gentle lapping off waves, as snow floated down onto your heads.

“Hey, you don’t expect me to keep this secret free of charge do you.” The mischief had returned to Childe’s voice.

“What’s your price then, Mr. Penguin Catcher.”

“Sparring every day for two weeks.”

“… I think I’m going to go back into the water now.”

“Don’t you dare!”

Your laughs entwined as you raced away from Childe, filling the cold winter air with silent warmth.

 Kaeya

“I swear to fucking Barbatos if you don’t open.”

You kicked the door of your apartment, the muffled clunk doing little to sooth your raw nerves. Stupid, how could you’ve have been so stupid? You knew that Kaeya was working late, you knew that you were going to have to remember your keys. So how did you get here then, standing on the outside while your key was resting safe on your nightstand? How had you still managed to forget?

“You know darling sometimes your too reliant on me.” Kaeya had told you one day, voice singsong with amusement. “One day you’ll forget your head on your shoulders. At the very least you shouldn’t expect me to always unlock the door for you.”

Well sorry you couldn’t see into the future. Groaning you slid down the side of your door, face planted firmly in your arms. You needed to get inside somehow. You weren’t about to prove Kaeya right, not now. You would get in if it was the last thing you do. Lifting your head up you closed your eyes in thought. The two of your were sharing an apartment on the third floor, one of the perks being a mini balcony for flower boxes, not that you ever actually put flowers in there. You always kept that window unlocked in the summer, and though it pushed out you were sure you might be able to open it.

Scurrying back down the stairs and into the back alley of the building you glanced around you. Thankfully there was no one in sight. Praying that your pack wouldn’t be stolen off the hallway floor you sighed softly, letting a soft grin cross your face as your vision shifted to that of a cat.

Thankfully the building was made both of wood and stone, or you never would’ve been able to make it. The climb was perilous however, in your mind if not in real life. The world was so much larger around you, and though being light and having four legs to land on would certainly be an asset, minimal injuries was not something you wanted to bet on. Reaching up towards the final beam you hoisted yourself up onto the flower box, giddy with triumph as you went to paw at the window handle.

Your paws slid off the golden substance as if they were coated in oil. Letting out a hiss of frustration you tried again, letting your claws protract. Unfortunately, the handle still refused to move, as your paws slid off the shiny metal. Shit. Turning around agitatedly you let out a yowl of protest. You were stuck, you were absolutely stuck. What were you going to do now? Getting up was one thing, getting down Unfortunately, another entirely. Nor could you revert here, besides the flowerbox being somewhat small you didn’t want to test the weight of the plank that served as your impromptu floor. So what could you do?

“What’re you doing here?” A familiar voice quieted the shrieks which you were emitting, as the fur on your body stood up. Slowly the window began to open, as a familiar face peered down at you, smirk as brilliant as usual. “Don’t you want to come in?”

Though a part of you suddenly thought that being stuck three stories above ground was a lovely prospect, you leapt through the window, landing on the dresser before hitting the ground. Though you wanted to make a run for it the door was closed, and you cursed Kaeya for his forethought.

“Are you going to tell me what you were doing so far up off the ground?” Kaeya knelt down beside you.

Even if I could do you think I’d tell you why? You let out a mewl, eyes narrowing as Childe let out a chuckle.

“Fair enough, but really it’s quite impressive. You must be one determined cat. Here.” Scooping you up Kaeya let out a quiet sort of laugh. “Let’s get you some milk.”

You stood on the kitchen floor, staring silently at the bowl that had been placed in front of you, wondering if cats also thought about having their meals placed where humans had just been walking.

“What, not your style?” Kaeya cocked his head.

He’d been surprisingly nonchalant about the whole debacle, perhaps spurred on by your own lack of reaction. It was still disarming, almost as much as the smirk that refused to leave his face. What in Teyvat could he possibly be thinking, was a cat stuck on a balcony that funny to your cavalry captain?

“Come now, you’ve got to drink a little bit at least. It must be awful exhausting to climb up a building.”

Still you made no move.

“Or do you make it a point not to eat in cat form, darling.”

“How did you know?!” You sputtered, transforming back immediately.

Kaeya let out a burst of laughter. Clutching his stomach he rocked back and forth on his feet, wheezing as the moment continued, laughing so hard no sound came from his mouth.

“It’s not very funny!”

“What do you mean, of course it’s funny!” Kaeya managed to get out, gasping wildly. “I can’t believe you got locked out and decided to scale the building.”

“What else could I do? Wait, no, first, how did you even know it was me?!”

“Ah yes because you would normally leave your belongings in the middle of the hallway. Come on darling, that wasn’t the smartest move you’ve ever made. Besides there have been rumors about a ghost cat prowling Mondstadt and as the Favonius Cavalry Captain, well you couldn’t expect me to just let these questions go unanswered!”

“How long have you known.”

“About a month.”

You groaned, turning around and face planting into the bed. How could you’ve have been so careless? Underestimating Kaeya was a mistake that many made, but you’d thought that you’d managed to catch up to your partner in terms of stealth.

“It’s alright darling, the embarrassment will wear off in an hour.”

“I just can’t believe I’ve been so reckless.”

“Hey, you’ve been very good at hiding this.” Kaeya ruffled your hair gently and you turned to look up at him. His smirk was gone, and instead there was a soft smile painting his lips. “I just know you.”

You hummed softly smile as Kaeya continued to card his fingers through your hair. Suddenly the whole ordeal was weighing on you, and you felt the familiar tendrils of sleep wash over you.

“You should get some rest.” Kaeya kissed your forehead gently. “It’s been a long day.”

“Kaeya.” You murmured.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

His voice was warm and full of care, guiding you softly to sleep.

 Ningguang

You never meant to get stuck in a storm. You’d never meant to go crying to the nearest place you could call a sanctuary. Most of all, you’d never meant to reveal your secret to her.

The wind whipped around you, throwing you this way and that. You let out a sort of screech, mind blank with terror as you went spinning through the sky, finding it impossible to right yourself in the air. There was no sign of the beautiful clear sky that had dawned this morning; clouds blanketed your vision, dark underbellies a silent warning as pelting rain fell in waves, made even more painful by the gusts of wind that accompanied it. The familiar clap of thunder boomed, seeming to rattle in your bones as you continued to struggle to find shelter. Spying a familiar building you could practically hear your groan of relief. Swooping down you prayed that this would go alright.

One of the things that Ningguang had told you she loved most about the Jade Chamber was the view.

“It’s so bright up there, you look out the windows and there’s nothing but sky, sky and the land of Rex Lapis. It’s a beautiful sight, I hope to one day see it again.”

You were grateful for her affinity for windows now, using their familiar landmark as a landing spot. Clinging onto the wall you began desperately pecking at the window, squawking and crying as the storm picked up again, desperate for the sanctuary of your partner’s office.

“What is a raven doing outside?” The sotto voice of your love one filled the air.

Opening the window Ningguang said nothing as you flew in, landing on the chair you usually sat in. There was a faint struggle as the wind whipped through the open window, but eventually a faint click could be heard and Ningguang returned to the center of the room. Staring down curiously at you she tilted her head.

“I didn’t think that ravens flew down from the forests, especially during a storm. Perhaps then you’re a messenger from the adepti?”

“N–” you squawked, knowing that you surely sounded strangled. Even after years of transformation you could never get used to the switch between voice box and syrinx. It was as if you’d never learned to speak from the beginning.

“Poor dear, are you tired from your journey? I’m not sure what ravens drink, water I presume.”

Walking over to the corner Ningguang poured some water out of a pitcher onto a saucer. You drank gratefully when she returned, reminding yourself to tell her that normally ravens had to consume both water and salts. Having finished the little ritual, you tried once more.

“N…” still your words weren’t coming. You wanted to say something important, to explain your circumstances. Still you found you could say nothing. As if reading your frustration Ningguang stroked your beak, touch gentle and comforting despite your avian state.

“Poor thing, have you been wounded?”

You looked up at your partner, taking in the smile on her face. You’d gotten better at reading her, reading this woman who people whispered was too proud, too cutthroat, without emotion and without empathy. How stupid those people were. You could see it in her eyes, see the worry. You were a stranger to her, and unlucky raven; and yet she worried for you.

“Ningguang.” You finally got out, tripping backwards slightly at the twisted sound of your own voice. Ningguang stared at you, no less surprised.

“You know my name. Then you must be from the adepti. Has something happened?”

“Ningguang!” You let out one more time, dancing up and down the arm of the chair you were perched on.”

“Is there something that must be done?”

“Ning–”

You stopped, shaking yourself. This was getting nowhere. What was even the point of hiding it at this point? You knew the fears that swirled inside you, knew the fear that had been instilled in you. Don’t tell anyone, don’t let them know. Normal people, they’ll never be able to understand, they’re too afraid, too proud, too lacking in empathy. And yet you knew that wasn’t true, at least that it wasn’t true of Ningguang. Sighing you hopped down on the floor. A few feathers floated out of your hair as you faced your partner.

“My dearest!”

“I’m sorry for the surprise.”

“Think nothing of it. I hope you are not injured.”

Hurrying over to you Ningguang picked up your arms, turning them around as she examined them. Giggling slightly, you shook your head.

“I’m fine my love, really. Only a little shaken.”

“I don’t understand what you were doing, flying out in the storm. The recklessness, I cannot believe you would do such a thing.”

“Sorry, I was being stupid; I didn’t think that the rain would be that bad.”

“I am only glad that you managed to make your way here. If not, well I would not appreciate having my partner felled by a storm.”

“Yeah…”

“Well,” Ningguang planted a few light kisses over the bridge of your nose, “I hope that you will learn, and that we do not have to repeat this performance. Honestly, to think I thought you an emissary of the adepti; I was almost worried this storm was an unnatural one. Morax knows the last thing Liyue needs or can afford is another god rising from the depths.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, if you truly are then you can help me with this paperwork. There appears to be some confusion in terms of the chain of ore production, I believe someone might be skimming from the top.”

In a moment she’d reverted back to her calm and collected self, but you could feel the unsaid words in the air. I will not ask you about your ability. I will trust you to tell me in your own time. It was a comforting message and as you sat down you wondered at how considered the woman you loved truly was.

“It looks like it will be a cool night.” Ningguang smiled up at the sky. The clouds had cleared and the moon shone a silvery light on the once more bustling city.

“Thank the gods. It’s been so hot recently.”

“Indeed.” Ningguang pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You gave her a short kiss back, fingers entwined with hers. The storm had been terrifying, as had the moments after, the moments when you felt you had too much to say and nothing at all. The moments when you had no control.

And yet Ningguang had given you the gift of time, time and patience. One day you would tell her about your abilities, about the blessing, or perhaps the curse, you’d been given at birth. You knew that when that day came you wouldn’t have to worry. So, for now you simply walked home together, hands entwined, both content in the silence of trust.

[yourmcu]

Mesmerized

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Request:

@lostaurorax​ said:

hii!! i love ur writing i was wondering if u could write a natasha x reader fic were reader is part of the guardians of the galaxy and they come to the compound and natasha is just starstruck but reader plays kinda hard to get and then just a bunch of fluff !

Word count: 1,388

A/n: sorry it took a while! I really hope this turned out ok I’m so nervous lmfaosdkdk

Warnings: none

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Natasha’s outside the compound by the landing zone, taking light sips on her beer occasionally. The Avengers are having some sort of gathering or low-key party inside to celebrate their victory against Thanos a while back.

They never really had time to gather everybody just after the battle, but Tony contacted everybody for this special night. Natasha just wants to take a break from the games and conversations for a minute.

Speaking of conversations, she rolls her eyes at the thought about something Steve said. Because the tables have turned; if she was the one bugging Steve to date a few years back, he's now bombarding her with names of single people they knew, one of them being Bucky.

“He wouldn’t mind going out to dinner with you sometime.” Steve suggested. But Natasha knows the Winter Soldier and herself are better off as friends.

Natasha gets up when after the guardian’s ship lands smoothly against the grass meters away from her. She moves a few strands of her hair from her face to get a clear view of Thor striding out of the ship as soon as the door opens, along with the other guardians.

“Ah, Romanoff!” The god of thunder grins, patting her on the back. She’s never seen him this happy. Probably because it's all thanks to him the whole universe was free from mad titans – at least for now. “How’s life? Oh, yes, I’d like to introduce you to my friends here… of course you already know rabbit, and tree…”

Greetings and hand shaking fills the friendly atmosphere for a moment. Then you finally catch up with them, nudging Thor’s side and thrusting the large barrel of Asgardian ale into his arms.

“You must be the Black Widow,” you breathe out and offer a warm smile to the redhead, your hand outstretches. “Thor’s told me awesome stories about you guys. Y/N, by the way.”

Natasha nods, slightly breathless like you are but because of... well, you. She returns a smile and introduces herself as well.

“Everything’s pretty tech-y now, s’mazing.” You muse, entering the compound side by side with Natasha. The rest are walking in front of you, chatting among themselves. “I missed this planet.”

She glances sideways at you, “when’s your last visit?”

You chuckle. “I honestly don’t remember when but, it was a brief visit to my hometown and everything looked old fashioned, I think these huge compact disks were all the rage that time, vines- no, not vines-“

“Vinyl records?” Natasha raises an eyebrow, smiling. You laugh, which she finds adorable, and nod. “You and Quill are related, then?” She proceeds to ask since you look like a normal human, no antennas or any odd space stuff you could’ve inherited.

“Oh, no, we’re both half human though,” you shrug. “What about you? Tell me about yourself.”

She hesitates to tell a bit of her story at first but you seem nice and - accepting, like you’d never judge her. But she does leave out a few parts for another conversation.

Natasha retreats over to Steve who is behind the bar counter when you receive a big hug from Peter and Tony greets you with a “How’s it going, fireball?” and a pat on the back. She figures you want to meet the others, so she sits down across the super soldier to steal glances at you from afar. 

“Finally, I was starting to think he wasn’t gonna show - hey!” Steve raises his champagne at Thor and he does the same gesture before hurrying after Bruce. “Is it just me or did Groot get taller?”

You're still joking around with Tony, pretending to hit the still-bandaged wound on his chest, Rhodey laughs along, then Wanda offers you a cocktail and you accept it, thanking her.

Steve’s now going on about Wakanda, also sharing the stories from T’Challa. Natasha’s barely listening but occasionally hum and nod.

“Nat, if you don’t close your mouth you’re going to drool.” He laughs lightheartedly, averting his gaze from her to you. “I guess we have a winner, then?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Natasha gets up to grab another beer from the cooler. Steve continues to laugh, having a stupid grin on his face. “Oh c’mon, what’s her name?”

Even saying your name she feels out of breath. There's no point in pretending she isn’t into you now. “This isn’t normal. I just met her tonight and I shouldn’t be feeling this way.”

“You’re infatuated, it’s-”

“Hi,” you sit on a stool across from the two avengers, holding an open pack of marshmallows. Natasha lamely excuses herself to fetch a bottle opener. Steve straightens up and extends a hand which you take. “Nice to finally meet you, I’m-”

“Y/N.” Steve says. “Natasha’s been telling me about you.”

“I just thought you seemed nice,” she quickly recovers but her heart is still pounding.

You raise an eyebrow at her and giggle. “I’m flattered. You’re not so bad yourself, Natasha.” It’s true, you think she ‘seemed nice’ too. Sure she sounded so badass when Thor tells you stories but tonight she looks so cozy with her sweater and her hair braided to one side.

“Being surrounded with people like you guys is great but now I just feel like a party trick.” You take out a marshmallow while scanning the room (Steve is now playing pool with Sam, you notice, and you're alone with the redhead).

“What do you mean?”

You hold the marshmallow between your fingertips, igniting it out of nowhere for a second so it roasts just right, then pop it in your mouth. “Pretty useless, right?”

“Maybe if you only used it for something like that, but no,” Natasha smiles softly. “Fire conjuring, bit scary if you ask me. What if you randomly lit something up?”

“I was born with it. I remember having to wear gloves all the time as a child when I first set a houseplant to flames,” you both laugh. “I’m in full control of it now though.”

“S’that why Tony calls you ‘fireball’?”

You let out a laugh again. “Yeah. Or he might’ve forgot my actual name.”

“Y/N! I took the liberty of putting your stuff in the room you’ll be sleeping at.” Thor butts in, grinning from ear to ear, patting you on the head.

“Oh, right. Thanks buddy.”

“You’re welcome!”

Natasha turns to you, “you’re staying?” In her head she's coming up with ways on how to talk to you again once the party’s over and you return to space with the guardians. This just makes it a whole lot easier to get to know you even better.

“Yup, Thor is too. We both agreed on staying for a few weeks to catch up on stuff.” You reply. “I might actually turn in now, ‘think those cocktails are kicking in...”

“I’ll walk with you.” She says without giving it much thought but you nod and smile appreciatively.

“Perfect. It’s the guestroom beside your room.” Thor claps his hands together and walks away.

-----

“Can I ask you a question?”

You zip your bag and hum before looking up at her.

Natasha's leaning on your doorframe, hesitating. Is she going to fast? Is it too soon to ask? She fiddles with her hands, “do you have any plans tomorrow?”

This is fine. If you say yes or say no then decline her next question, she’ll just forget any of this happened.

“I don’t - well, I think Thor wanted to go out for breakfast but that’s it. Why?”

“Do you... maybe wanna go out?” Natasha asks silently, looking at anywhere but you. “To, you know, catch you up on some of the things you missed. Only if you want to, no pressure.”

But your eyes light up at her words. You kind of expected it, she was showing signs that she likes you all night. And you actually made the Black Widow nervous. “Natasha, I’d love to.”

“Oh,” she sighs in relief, feeling the beat of her heart return to a normal pace. “Well I’ll - I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You walk over to her and place a hand on her arm, then lean over to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Good night.”

[wrenhyperfixates]

Not as Bad as You Think

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: After a bad grade on a test, Peter is being very hard on himself. Loki helps you cheer him up. Warnings: none A/N: Enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” you comforted Peter, patting his back.

“You’re right,” he replied, voice muffled by the pillow he was hiding his face in. “It’s probably worse.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

The disgruntled teenager rolled over onto his back and gave you a look somewhere between annoyed and upset. He’d come home to the Tower saying he failed a big History test he’d had. Despite him saying he failed, you were pretty sure he was just over-exaggerating. The boy kept up a nearly perfect gpa and was an Avenger. It was no easy feat, and you knew how much pressure he put on himself to keep up his good grades. You wished he’d go a little easier on himself.

“Besides,” you continued when he said nothing, “even if it is bad, everyone’s allowed one not so great grade every once in a while. You’re still doing great, kid.”

“I guess,” he mumbled halfheartedly, smooshing his face against the pillow again.

You frowned. During the time Peter had been on the team, he’d become something of a little brother to you. You hated to see him down like this. It was easy to remember all the normal pressures of being a teen, and he had the pressures of being a superhero on top of that. Sometimes you wished he took a day just to be a kid. Though, when you said that, you meant more of him taking some time off to have fun, not stress about his grades.

“I know what will fix this,” you said with a smile.

“Cookies?” he said, peeking up at you again.

“Yup. And hot chocolate. How does that sound, Petey?”

“Well, I don’t know I deserve it,” he started before seeing the stern look on your face, telling him to ease up himself. “But yeah, I want some.”

You stood and ruffled his hair. “Coming right up.”

Taking your frustrations out on the cookie dough you were mixing and cocoa you were whisking, you tried to figure out a way to get Peter to enjoy his youth. You were so focused, you didn’t notice when Loki came in, and he was able to snag one of the freshly baked treats before you could smack his hand away.

“Naughty Loki. Those are for Peter,” you giggled, poking him in the side.

“And you can’t spare just this one for me, darling?”

“I suppose you can be my taste-tester,” you grinned, giving him a kiss before he could take another bite.

“Thank you, my love.” You smiled at your boyfriend as he polished off his treat and licked his lips in delight. He pulled you into a hug and rested his head on yours. “Delicious as always, darling.”

“Thank you, Loki, but I have to keep my eye on the hot chocolate.”

“Allow me to guess, that is for the spiderling, too?” he inquired, grabbing a mug out of the cabinet for you to pour the warm liquid into.

“Mhm,” you replied. “He had a bad day, and I was trying to cheer him up. Nothing was working, though, so I’m hoping these treats will.”

Loki knew how close you were with Peter, and he loved seeing your older sibling instincts take over, despite not actually being related to the boy. Admittedly, he was glad Thor didn’t act the way you did. If that was in his nature, Loki was sure the God of Thunder would be entirely overbearing. He had started acting a bit more brotherly recently, however, which was nice. Of course, all that just meant Loki wasn’t exactly the best equipped to help sibling problems.

Loki frowned as he wiped a few spilt drops of hot chocolate from the counter. Your brow was furrowed in concentration and thought, and he pulled you back to kiss the lines of worry away. He hated seeing you upset or distraught in any way. After all you’d done for him in showing him he was worthy for love, he never wanted you to experience a single bad emotion. He knew it was part of being human, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. And he could do everything in his power to keep those negative feelings at a minimum.

“Darling, why don’t you just take it easy. I will go take these things to the spiderling and have a chat to cheer him up,” he told you, rubbing up and down your arms. “I will take care of it.”

“I don’t know, Loki. Nothing I was saying was working. And I feel kinda bad to let you take care of this while I put my feet up.”

“Well then, allow me to handle this, and you can make me some of that delicious hot chocolate.”

“Fine.” You smiled at the way he was so concerned, not just for you, but for Peter, too. And of course you’d be more than happy to make him some cocoa, even if he was just suggesting that so you would take it a bit easier. “Just tell me if he’s still feeling down, alright?”

“We have a deal, darling. Leave it to me.”

And so, the trickster god found himself outside Peter’s door, trying to figure out what exactly to say to him. Before the drink could get cold, he just knocked and hoped the right words would come to him. Peter beckoned him in, and Loki walked inside, cookies and cocoa in hand.

“Oh, hey Loki,” Peter said, sounding sad. Though, he did perk up when he saw the snacks.

“Greetings, spiderling. I hear you are having some troubles. Perhaps I could help?”

“I dunno.” He took a cookie off the plate and dunked it into his drink. Then he offered Loki one, which he gladly accepted. “There’s not much that can be done. Unless...”

“Unless?”

“Can your magic turn back time?”

“Sadly, no,” he laughed. “But maybe you’d just like to talk about what it is that is plaguing you?”

“I guess,” he sighed. “I got a bad grade on a test. And I studied so, so hard. I thought I did way better, but I just didn’t. I’m supposed to be able to handle all the pressure and stress, but I just don’t think I can. I need to try harder, do better.”

“Come now, spiderling. From what I hear, you are doing wonderful in your classes.” Loki hesitantly pat the boy on his back. “There is only one life to live, and it is not very long. You should be enjoying each minute to its fullest.”

“Haven’t you resurrected like three times, though? And aren’t you thousands of years old?”

“Regardless,” Loki waved the comment off, “none of it is worth it if you are not enjoying life. You are doing wonderful, we could not be more proud of you. Just be proud of yourself and a little kinder to yourself, too.”

“You really think so?”

“I may be the God of Lies,” Loki chuckled, “but I assure you, I could not be more honest in this moment.”

“Well then, if I’m supposed to be doing stuff I enjoy, do you maybe want to do a movie marathon?”

“That sounds absolutely perfect. You may pick what we watch, too.”

“Yes!” he cheered. “I hardly ever get to pick!”

As Peter set off to grab pillows and blankets and set up the movie, after finishing his treats of course, Loki waltzed into the kitchen with a sly grin on his face. He walked up behind you and hugged you. You jumped a little at first, but quickly recognized the arms encircling your waist. You leaned back into his chest and smiled up at him.

“It went well, I take it,” you said.

“Indeed it did. In fact, we are having a movie marathon. You are, of course, welcome to join.”

You decided to take him up on that offer and handed him his hot chocolate. You made some popcorn, too, and put it into two bowls; one for Peter, and one for you and Loki to share. Peter sat on the floor by the TV where he’d set up the original Star Wars trilogy to play, and you and your boyfriend snuggled together on the couch. About halfway through the second movie, a thought occurred to you.

“Hey, Petey,” you said. “What grade exactly did you get on that test.”

“Oh, uh, that? Who cares,” he scoffed, though he’d gone bright red and wouldn’t meet your eye. “You wouldn’t want to hear about that.”

“Peter.”

“Fine,” he sighed. He ducked his head and mumbled his grade. “I got an 85.”

“Peter! That’s amazing!” You didn’t know whether to cheer for him or strangle him. You decided playfully hitting him with a pillow was the way to go.

“Loki! Help!” he laughed as he tried to block your attacks.

“Coming to your rescue, spiderling!”

The three of you ended up in a pillow fight, and eventually collapsed in a pile on the floor, out of breath from laughing. You smiled at your boys and realized that even if things were difficult sometimes, you always had each other’s backs. It was more than just Peter being like your little brother, or Loki being your boyfriend. You were a whole little family, and really, who could ask for more than that?

[voiceless-terror]

Perchance to Dream

@aspecarchivesweek Day Three: Drinks

Characters: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Tim Stoker, Sasha James

Jon comes out to Martin. Twice.

(Ft. Kiss-Averse Jonathan Sims and Hamlet References)

__________

“Ugh, no thank you.”

Martin pauses. Sasha and Tim titter behind their hands.

And Jon, well. He’s got a look of vehement disgust written across his features, not unlike when he’s laying into what he claims is a fabricated statement. Martin can feel his face turning red at the words.

Getting Jon to come out for drinks had been the hard part. It’s one month into his tenure as Head Archivist, and everyone’s starting to feel the scope of the task ahead of them. Tim thought a ‘monthiversary’ drink was in order, and the only way to get Jon to come out was to threaten him with some sort of ill begotten information, the likes of which Martin couldn’t hear behind the closed door. Ten minutes later, Jon emerged, looking grumpier than usual (and very dashing) with a scarf around his neck. And now he sat next to him in the cozy pub booth, Martin trying very hard to remain stock-still because Jon’s leaning into his side. Perhaps he’s cold? Either way, Martin isn’t going to discourage it. 

But then he’d had a few drinks and they all loosened up; even Jon’s laugh came easier. And Martin- well, Martin’s opening up a bit more than usual, chattering about his time in the library and bolstered by the smiles he receives in turn. Tim changed track to the personal, regaling them with his latest outdoor adventure while Sasha and Jon gave witty, sarcastic commentary. But then Tim directed the conversation towards him, and they seemed relatively interested in his poetry. He even felt comfortable enough to rattle out a few lines from his phone in a desperate hope to impress, and he stupidly chose one that referenced ‘lips like a rosebud’ and Jon reacts like he’s read a particularly saucy bit of a smut novel aloud. How embarrassing. 

“Whew,” Tim whistles lowly, folding his arms behind his neck with an exaggerated wince. “Harsh, boss.”

“No, that’s not it,” Jon says, shaking his head and putting a hand on Martin’s arm. Putting a hand on Martin’s arm. Putting a hand- “Martin, your poetry is fine, if a bit derivative.” Jon thinks his poetry is fine and he’s got his small, fine-boned hand on Martin’s arm and god, he’s got a poem about that too, somewhere in his phone-

Tim guffaws, slamming a hand on the table and startling Sasha. “What a compliment!”

“It’s just…kissing. Lips. Ugh.” Jon smashes his fork rather violently into a dumpling, sending bits of food flying across the table, one of which hit Tim directly above his eye. “I eat with my mouth.”

“Wise observation.”

“Very astute of you.”

Martin would join in on the banter but Jon’s hand is still on his arm and his warm weight is pressing into his side. Honestly, what’s Jon playing at? He could rip the poetry to shreds in front of him but as long as that hand remains on his arm he’d just sit there, not saying a word. Hell, he’d probably even agree.

“So the bossman doesn’t like kisses,” Tim says, taking an obnoxiously loud sip of whatever fruity beverage he’d decided on. “Is that why you ripped down all of my mistletoe back in research?”

Jon. Mistletoe. Hand still on arm.

“I don’t like any of it,” Jon says, removing his hand from Martin’s arm to make a decisive gesture across the table which nearly sent his drink flying. He instantly misses the pressure but the warmth is still there, burning through his sleeve. Jon looks incredibly drunk, now that Martin’s got a better angle to view his flushed cheeks and bright eyes and lips- “All that touching. I don’t understand why everyone’s so hung up on it. No thank you, not for me.”

A brief flash of understanding lights Sasha’s eyes but Martin’s not in a place to decipher it. He’s not sure if it’s the drink or the Jon-of-it-all that’s impeding him. He’s never seen him so relaxed, so animated about something that’s not work. He can’t even focus on the words coming out of Jon’s mouth at the moment.

But Sasha leans forward- once she’s got an idea in her head, she won’t let go until she’s seen it through. Martin recognizes that look. “You’re asexual, then?”

“Mm,” Jon mumbles, his head tilting back dangerously as he puts on an affected, exaggerated voice. “Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither.”

And then Martin’s gone, suddenly struck by a vision of teenage Jon, silhouetted on a stage by a dramatic spotlight, reciting Shakespeare like a born thespian- look, Martin despises theater, but even he’s not immune to Hamlet. In a dream world he’d be Ophelia, no, not Ophelia, idiot- maybe he’s a stage hand, or no, he helps Jon with his quick changes, that’s a job, right? So caught up is he in this pseudo-high school fantasy that the words being said don’t actually dawn on him until a full minute later, when Tim’s laughter reaches a crescendo.

“Boss, did you seriously just come out via Shakespeare?”

Jon’s not even denying it, giving a lazy, good-natured smile in response. Fuck. Here he is, having some stupid fantasy over his boss who is very much right next to him and very much not interested. God, is he taking advantage? He jumps to the side, trying desperately to put a few more inches of space between them for Jon’s comfort when that small hand comes back to his arm, the sudden and strong grip stopping him in his tracks. 

“No!” Jon’s voice is low, those dark eyes so intense. Martin can feel his face go scarlet from his gaze alone. “This is nice. I like it.”

Tim and Sasha share an evil little smile and Martin’s out of commission, the night’s revelations and Jon’s insistent snuggling having taken their toll. He couldn’t tell you what happened after that, how many drinks were shared or how he got home. All he remembers is the feel of Jon’s hand on his arm, his insistent closeness, and the sound of his laugh whenever Tim teased him.

The next day Jon comes in late, looking about as bad as the rest of them felt. From the way he interacts with them, it’s likely that he doesn’t even remember last night, what he did or what he said. Martin tries not to let it sting, and goes back to work, knowing there’s a side of Jon that he’ll likely never see again.

__________

“Martin, we have to...talk, if that’s alright.” 

Martin pauses, a lump building in his throat. “Okay.”

He settles in on Daisy’s lumpy couch, trying not to let his apprehension show. It’s been a week since Jon got him out of the Lonely and they’re still adjusting, but Martin likes to think they’re settling into a nice routine. There’s such a natural ease to their domesticity; they had their differences, sure, but he’s never seen the man so soft and unguarded, puttering around the cottage, making sure everything’s nice and comfortable for the two of them. And of course, there’s the bed situation. Only one, like in all the cliché fanfiction Martin had taken to reading back when he lived in the Archives and his biggest problem was worms. Maybe Jon doesn’t want to share anymore? He’s been strangely distant the past day, keeping space between them and hovering about in a nervous manner. He goes back through their interactions, trying to think of what he could’ve done wrong.

Jon sits down next to him, his face showing his own apprehension. “I know we’ve been getting...close, this past week. But if we’re going to ah, have an, er- well, you know, relationship- there’s some things you need to know.” Relationship. Jon thinks they're in a relationship. Martin didn’t want to put a label to it, too afraid it would shatter the fragile trust they built. But to be in a relationship with Jon, well, that’s something he’s always dreamed of, right?

So he relaxes minutely, tries not to show the utter joy he feels at the words. “Alright. What’s up?”

Jon takes a steadying breath, looking so oddly grave that Martin immediately wants to take him into his arms. “I don’t...well, I’m asexual. So I’m not really interested…” he makes a vague gesture down towards Martin’s crotch and then freezes, clearly embarrassed by the crudeness of the action. “I’m not interested in all of...that. Or kissing, for that matter. It’s just a personal boundary for me, if that’s alright.”

Oh. Martin blinks, taking in Jon’s serious countenance and hopeful eyes and while he wants to match it, he can’t control the laughter that bubbles out of his throat. “Oh-oh Jon-”

Jon immediately blanches, his brow furrowing in confusion and probably hurt. “W-What? What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry! Fuck-it’s, it’s not that, that’s fine, it’s just-” Martin tries desperately to keep his laughter under control and fails. Christ, he can’t breathe. “Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither!” 

“Why are you quoting Shakespeare?” Jon’s looking at him like he’s lost his mind. Perhaps he has.

“Because you did, you daft thing!” Martin’s shoulders shake with the effort of containing himself, and he wipes a tear from his eye. He immediately puts a hand on Jon’s arm, a mirror’s reflection of that night at the bar and yet it’s still his hand that burns. “Jon, it’s fine. I already know. You told us over drinks my first month in the Archives.”

Jon’s face takes on that peculiar look of confusion and concentration that Martin loves, as if he’s searching his mind or maybe even the Eye for information. “I-oh. Oh!” He puts his head in his hands with a groan, ignoring Martin’s comforting pats to the back. “How embarrassing.”

“It was adorable.”

“No it wasn’t,” Jon whines into his hands even as he leans into Martin’s touch.

“It was,” Martin assures him, drawing him close to his side and letting him lean his head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I laughed- you were just so serious, I couldn’t help it-”

“Yes, well,” Jon sighed, settling into his arms, the beginnings of a smile on his face. “It’s fine. As long you’re alright with…”

“More than alright.” It’s Jon, of course it’s alright. Being here with him, in their little shabby oasis- well, it’s more than enough. They sit there in silence for some time, Martin enjoying the closeness of the man he’d fought so hard to protect finally in his arms. He’s starting to think they just might be alright. He smiles to himself, perching his chin on top of Jon’s head.

“To be or not to be-”

“Shut up, Martin.”

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741983

[fatefulfaerie]

Domesticity

Zelink Week 2021 prompt #5/7 @zelinkweek2021

Word Count: 1,951

Incarnation: Breath of the Wild 2 (post)

Additional Prompts Followed: Hearts, Family

No Trigger Warnings

“Is one of us dying?”

The feast was definitely unsettling to Wendie, and although she was mostly joking, she couldn’t help but think that such a nice dinner at such a random time of the year was odd. Of course her dad was a great cook, but this was a step above, despite there being no family birthdays for at least three months and no holidays for five.

“No,” her mother said as she placed on the table a large bowl of goat-buttered mashed potatoes, one of Wendie’s favorite foods. She had said it with a slight motherly laugh and a warm smile. “No one is dying. We’re just having a family dinner.”

The mother, who went by the name Zelda, had aged gracefully over the past twenty years, blonde hair highlighted with streaks of white that her husband would often call angelic and ethereal when she would doubt her beauty. At the moment, her age-hued hair was swept into a single braid behind her head, messy yet secure.

“Our family dinners aren’t usually this elaborate,” Wendie observed. “You made mashed potatoes and seafood rice balls—which is Elyjah’s favorite food—grilled carrots, meat pie, mushroom skewers and you have an apple turnover on the counter for dessert!”

“Nothing gets past you,” her father said, putting a bowl of baked and salted radishes on the table. His blue eyes looked over to Zelda. “I think we raised them too smart.”

“Nonsense,” Zelda said, walking forward and using the rag that was just draped over her shoulder to wipe a smattering of flour off of Link’s forehead. “Where’s Elyjah?”

Wendie made a sound that sounded a lot like a lazy “I don’t know” while shrugging her shoulders where she sat at the table.

“He can just eat when he gets home,” Wendie reasoned. “There’s more than enough food.”

Wendie didn’t see her parents exchange glances, the seventeen-year old not caring in the slightest that her twin brother wasn’t here to ruin her first dibs on dinner.

“I’ll try and find him,” Zelda said with a sigh, Wendie looking back up at her parents. Link nodded as Zelda departed. Wendie once again questioned what was going on.

“Ly!” The father and daughter heard outside, Zelda from just the doorstep of their modest Hateno home calling out to the entirety of Hyrule. Link sat down across from his daughter, elbows on the table and arms folded into each other. The deep thought he was in concerned Wendie greatly. He wouldn’t even meet her glance. Was she in trouble?

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.”

Elyjah.

Of all the people to be in trouble, surely it was him. He had never gotten into anything truly bad but he was the biggest prankster in Hateno. The only shop he wasn’t banned from was the dye shop. The green-eyed troublemaker was here nonetheless and Wendie prepared herself for another fun show. Zelda moved to sit down next to Link at the table but Elyjah stopped as soon as he saw the table, mouth popped open and body frozen.

“Is someone dying?”

He had looked over to his sister when he asked the question.

“Yeah,” she said. “You.”

“What?” Elyjah asked, almost believing it.

“Wendie, that’s enough now,” Zelda said, before looking over to her son. “No one is dying. We would just like to talk to you both.”

Elyjah sat next to Wendie with the same bewildered look as her, trying to figure out what it was before their parents spit it out. It was like Hylia’s Day presents except they didn’t have a good feeling about this, especially when Link took Zelda’s hand and looked at their children, ready to address them.

And yet it was Zelda who started.

“Do you two remember the fairytale we used to tell you?” Zelda inquired, her voice shaky. “The bedtime story? Of the princess and the knight?”

Neither Elyjah nor Wendie had any clue of the relevance, but they both remembered the tale well.

“The one with the weird ending?” Wendie asked nonetheless. “Where he rescued her and then that was it?”

“Yeah,” Elyjah said. “Didn’t they just stare at each other in silence? After all they had been through, it seemed like there should have been more.”

Link dove his hand into his forehead.

“Zelda, you could have given them a better ending,” Link suggested.

Zelda scoffed and put her hands on her hips.

“It was a lesson in imagination,” she said. “And clearly none of you have any.”

“But that’s besides the point…” Link said, prompting Zelda in a different direction.

“Yes,” Zelda said, nodding at Link and returning her gaze to their children, confused as ever. And yet she smiled at them.

“You both have grown up so fast,” Zelda said. “We both love you very much and cannot believe that you have blossomed right before our eyes into adults.”

Zelda’s smile became sad and she bowed her head.

“You see it’s a lot easier to lie to children.”

Wendie’s brow furrowed.

“Lie…” she repeated from her mother.

When Zelda’s head tilted back up, green was glazed with waves of coming tears, making the emeralds that Link fell in love with a hundred years ago shine even brighter.

“That fairytale…” Zelda said. “The princess who used her sealing power to keep away Calamity Ganon and the knight who slept in a ruined Hyrule for a hundred years in order to recover from his injuries and save her…”

Zelda stopped herself. Twenty years of keeping it in and it seems it wanted to stay in. She wrestled with her conflicted heart, kept it at bay long enough for her to blurt it out.

“It’s true,” Zelda said, no weakness in her voice, no lie, no apprehension. “The knight and the princess really did fight the calamity, really did survive a century to see it through and then some. Once they tracked down the cause of the anomaly, destroying the true form of Ganon, they settled down in Hateno. They got married and eventually gave life to twins, a boy and a girl.” Zelda’s eyes were proud as she looked upon her children, although they glistened with tears. Her heart hurt to see their faces in shock, but the outspoken truth felt better than she could have imagined. She felt Link’s grip tighten around her fingers.

“You both have royal blood in you,” Zelda said. “Even though I stepped away from the throne in the search of a simpler, more fulfilling life, you both still have claim to the titles of Prince Elyjah and Princess Wendie. We wanted you to know in case that path would prove fulfilling for you and…well, now that you’re adults you have the right to know the truth.”

Wendie stood up and walked out of the house, her parents not daring to stop her. Elyjah, however, just sat in shock, piecing it all together in his mind. Link and Zelda both could see his green eyes working, much like his mother’s did when she went over schematics or theorized about plant life.

“The story,” he finally started, “everything you went through…the pressure…you wanted to protect us from that…you wanted to give us the childhood you never had…that neither of you had.”

Link nodded.

“That’s right.”

Elyjah pursed his lips and nodded. Sometimes he was just like his dad. He shrugged.

“Okay,” he said, replacing his empty plate with the one filled with the seafood rice balls meant for the whole family. “Cool,” he continued, or at least it sounded like the word “cool”, his mouth mostly filled with rice.

Link raised his eyebrows and looked over at Zelda.

“Apparently we’re…cool.” Link said the last word as if it were completely foreign.

“Not all of us,” Zelda reminded her husband. She started to stand up. “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

Yet Link placed a hand on her arm.

“I’ll go,” Link said. “You stay and enjoy the food.”

Link found his daughter on the banks of Firly Pond, knees hugged close to her chest and water lapping at her bare toes.

At first he waited with his hand on the bark of the near apple tree, pursing his lips. Sometimes he was thrust back in time twenty years, when he felt he had no idea how to be a dad. This was one of those moments.

Link saw in his mind’s eye Wendie’s big blue eyes staring up at him, stubby arms reaching for him. He smiled. She grew up so fast.

“I know you’re there,” he heard Wendie say. She didn’t turn her head away from the pond. “Did you come to give me a speech?”

Link walked towards her.

“Maybe.”

He sat down next to her and Wendie only gave him the smallest of glances.

“I feel like I don’t know my parents at all,” she finally said.

Link nodded.

“I understand.” He said. “I don’t agree, but I understand.”

Wendie looked over to his profile, trying to ascertain how he could be serious. The calamity was real and her parents fought it. Sheikah technology really could heal fatal wounds and the goddesses power really was wielded by a mortal, not to mention her own mother, who never seemed like a princess in the slightest. Her father was a knight in a kingdom that really did exist and she?

Well she was a princess. This whole time, she was a princess. The girl who was called the “ugly duckling” of the family as a child was a princess in peasant’s clothing. She almost wanted to go brag to the town, but that seemed petty for just a small ounce of appreciation from the people her age who used to tease her when they would play as children.

Her parents were legends and in comparison, what was she?

Definitely not a princess.

“You know us as what we became after everything we went through,” Link finally said, having taken the time to get his words together. “The people we were before…”

He hesitated.

“We were nothing more than what the kingdom wanted us to be…statues, legends, weapons…we were never fully ourselves, and we could never afford to be ourselves with an entire kingdom looking at us to save them from a calamity. The slivers that were left of us found a friendship in each other, one that grew into love in time. After everything was settled, we began to truly find ourselves, basking in the freedom to do so. It’s something that usually occurs in a fifteen year old but your mother and I were a hundred and twenty years old when we solved the identity crisis. She did not want to be royalty and I did not want to be a knight. When we finally did not need to be those things, we took our first breaths as Link and Zelda. We wanted our children to take those breaths from the very second they were born, and that is why we let you grow up before we told you the truth. We wanted royalty to be an option for you two, not a necessity. We wanted you to become yourselves, not tiny versions of us. I only hope we have…at least I think we have.”

Wendie smiled.

“You have,” she said. “If you want your daughter to have absolutely no idea what she wants to do with her life.”

Link brought his daughter closer by hugging her far shoulder, bringing her close enough to kiss the top of her head.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he said. It sounded strange but Link didn’t mean it as a bad thing. “Because finding out your passion for yourself is the most exciting thing in this entire wild land.”