#so i guess this is my rarest pair so far

[sideartblog999]

Willow Rosenberg is stranded from her universe in a world that is utterly boring, she has a doppelganger who wears her face, vampires have fallen to the bottom of the food chain and there's a decidedly not dead Slayer still in Sunnydale. But worst of all there's this annoying blonde vampire who won't leave her alone.

Started this back in like January, got 95% done and decided I hated it. As part of finish my wips month I opened it up finished it and edited it to the point I was happy with it.

[skyfallscotland]

🐉 ONYX STORM PROLOGUE, CHAPTERS ONE & TWO MY THOUGHTS: (god bless the dutch 🇳🇱)

So not totally verified yet, but it seems legit. This is absolutely the scene I expected us to be starting with, and despite the translation it does read like Rebecca. Thank you so much to @thestarseternaal for sharing it with me! You can find it here.

Ok, let's fucking goooooo! 🤘

· That trigger warning list? "The death of an animal" 💀😬 The "descriptions of sexual acts" though, thank god, though it's not looking promising for the two of them so far.

· Garrick and Bodhi KNOW?! Ok that I didn't see coming?

· "I can't blame him for wanting to know what he is" ANDARNA 😭 "I'm as much in the dark as he is, and you trust me." 😭 I want to hug the baby

· "Magic feels different when I change colours. When I used my power, it was like the venin transformed, weakening-" Ok so confirmed, she's the solution they're looking for *sigh*

· It's going to be unfortunate if the allies we're seeking are just Poromiel, and I think they are given both the excerpt prior to the prologue and the fact the Target edition map had only a few places in Poromiel on it and no Isles. I guess we're not looking for Andarna's family over there until books four and five? 😞

· Wait...what? Leadership knows what Andarna is? Everyone knows? Who TF told them? I was certain they didn't see? I can't believe we spent all this time worrying about people knowing she was a baby when she bonded and y'all just told everyone she was a super special rare breed right off the bat. SMDH.

· Aotrom's only 22? 😭 I'm older than Aotrom? RIDOC and him are the same age, that makes so much sense!!

· TAIRN CALLS XADEN "THE DARK ONE"? 😭 I feel like I'm not going to like Tairn much this book, and I feel like he's gonna ☠️ but that's for my theory post.

· "His soul is no longer his own" "That's a bit dramatic." VIOLET I LOVE YOU 🖤

· "You mean whether I'll support you in the thousand ways you want to face death to heal someone who's beyond redemption?" Oh Tairn...why do I get the really, really bad feeling you lied about Naolin?

· The truth-sayers have let Caroline Ashton off the hook? Hmmmm suspicious. Everyone's evil, I just know it.

· "Devera and Kaori will be back soon. They’ll straighten out the command structure once the princes have signed a treaty that hopefully grants us grace for even leaving in the first place." Ummm princes plural? So I guess Cam hid for nothing? Well not nothing, but he's...back with his fam? Also why would they be signing shit? Where's the damn king?!

· "The rarest signet, which appear once per generation or century, have been documented twice simultaneously with an equal counterpart, both during critical times in our history, but only once have the six most powerful walked the Continent at the same time. As fascinating as that spectacle must have been, I would rather not witness it again in my lifetime. – A study of signets by Major Dalton Sisneros" Ok could be a weird translation but I'm confused by this. The counterpart thing could be either a rider and a venin (ie. one of the venin can distance wield and we're getting a distance wielder) or dark and light, ie. shadows and light. Also six like the first six and they all had partners within themselves? Three pairs? Or? What even were their signets because I can't believe we've NEVER FUCKING ASKED? I've literally never seen that mentioned and it seems...so fucking relevant.

· Perhaps a more outlandish theory, but I think the venin with the silver hair who distance wields might be Xaden's mother. I'll elaborate later, but 😬😬

· Ok well, 1. I'm fucking crying already, and 2. "Even if I reached the rank of Maven, led armies of dark wielders against everyone we care about, and if I had to watch every vein in my body turn red because I had drained all the powers of the Continent, I would still love you. What I’ve done doesn’t change that. I don’t know if that’s even possible." That's a little bit storm in the quiet, I love it when the vibe is proven ✨correct✨ 😭 @justallihere

So all in all, 1. As expected, every excerpt, hint, and thing we've thought about it over in one-two chapters, 2. This is going to hurt so bad and I think it will go as I expected, and 3. I'm still not ready 😭

Send help 🥺

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

A Second Chance Is A Better Chance - Christmas As A Roamer - The Ninth Christmas

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Witch Reader, eventual ? x Omega Witch Reader and Alpha Steve Rogers X Omega Witch Reader

Summary: Rejected by your true mate at 21, you’ve given up on the Fates and the Moon Goddesses giving you a second chance. Being a Roamer for the last 9 years, you’re an Omega hardened by the world. You’re safe on your own because of your witchcraft, but it doesn’t stop Alphas and plenty of others sniffing around, especially when you’re an unmated Omega witch, who’s wolf also happens to be white, the rarest kind. You don’t need anyone, but why do you keep coming back to Brookville and why do you keep walking into trouble and helping people that you don’t know but for some strange reason feel like family. And where is that smell of apple pie coming from?

Warnings: A/B/O, eventual smut, violence in parts, witchcraft, shapeshifters,

You watched as the flames flickered in the fireplace, ignoring the buzz of your phone again. The library was your favourite room in the X Pack’s house. Dark bookcases lined the walls with a mix of the classics and modern tales along the shelves.

“You’re gonna have to answer that at some point” pushed Logan.

You sighed and flipped your phone over, so it was face down on the couch you were curled up on.

“I don’t know who it is.“ you lied.

“Oh so it’s not Frank then? Trying to make sure that you’re not on your own at Christmas, I didn’t realise you were on such close terms with them.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, but I’d appreciate it if you’d pick up the phone, then at least he’d stop calling me.”

“What? he called you? Why would he do that?”

“I’m guessing because he cares. He called the Coulsons too.” 

“How did he even know I was here?”

“Well, your list of friends isn’t exactly long, is it?”

“Rude.”

“And it doesn’t really take a rocket scientist, or Sherlock Holmes to figure out where you’d be. Either you’re gonna be back home, which is very unlikely, or with someone you know.”

“Not necessarily. I’ve spent Christmas alone before.”

“But it ain’t pleasant kid, take it from someone who knows and understands.”

You huffed and looked up at the ceiling. 

“You can stay as long as you need to”

You nodded and let out a broken thank you.

“But I might need a favour?”

You cocked an eyebrow.

“You’re asking a favour of a witch that isn’t yours Logan?”

“I am.”

“Go on then. Although I’m not into women if you’re wanting to turn your throuple into a quad.”

“Ha ha ha” Logan replied dryly “I think I’ve got my hands full without throwing you into the mix.”

You snorted with laughter.

“Yeah you might have a point.”

“It is about them though, well, us.”

“OK. This is very vague so far.”

“Jean and I are ready for pups.”

“And Storm?” You answered quickly.

“She’s partly ready.”

“Again vague.”

“She’s scared.”

“Well being a mother is scary. Birth is scary. Even being pregnant can be scary for some.”

“And throw in being a witch into the mix and it’s got her, well, even more scared than she should be.”

“Do you usually dictate how your mates should feel?”

Logan held his hands up in surrender.

“That’s not what I meant.” he sighed “I, how do I put this without sounding like an asshole alpha?”

You said nothing but raised an eyebrow.

“I already sound like one don’t I?”

“I mean……”

“Yes you do.” Came a voice from the doorway. Jean.

“You understand her in ways we never can” she added as she set herself down beside you.

Logan went to interrupt but was cut off by a firm look from his mate.

“You can understand her where we can’t. We don’t know what it’s like to be an omega. To be an omega witch. To be a rarity. When your powers have been a cause of pain, ridicule and questionable childhoods.”

You shot her a stern look.

“And where do I fit in this?” you asked.

“She’s scared her powers will get out of control when the labour starts.” Jean replied.

“Getting ahead of yourselves aren’t you? She’s not pregnant yet.”

“Exactly, she’s not off birth control. She won’t even consider it without having a plan in place.” Logan snarked.

“And that’s her choice and we have to respect that.” Jean added.

“I’m not going to ask her to come off birth control or convince her to let you knock her up just because it’s what you want!” you quipped back.

“Damn straight sister.” Came another voice and Storm stepped out of the shadows.

Both Logan and Jean eyes went wide with shock. 

“How? Why couldn’t we smell you?” Logan almost barked.

“A concealing spell, a damn good one!” Jean frowned.

“Oh I wonder where she learnt that.” You sniggered.

Storm perched herself on the arm of the couch you were sitting on and started to play with your hair and smirked.

Jean and Logan glanced at each other. Storm hadn’t taken the overheard conversation as badly as they’d thought. They quickly discovered they were wrong, as she opened the bond and rushed her emotions through it.

“Don’t ever pull this shit again!” Storm snapped. “You aren’t as discreet as you think you are. White wolf ears, remember?”

“We thought you were sleeping.” Logan replied

“Well, that’s your own dumbass fault.” You quipped.

Storm’s expression softened as she looked down at you, still fiddling with your hair.

“We’ve already spoken. Y/N has agreed to be around during the pregnancy and during the labour. Logan you can speak to the Coulsons about a long term rental on the cottage and you two will be paying for it.”

Logan rolled his eyes as Jean replied.

“Of course.”

“You didn’t tell them the best part!” you added, smirking at Logan.

“Oh of course, she’s going to be godmother.”

“What!!?” Logan was quick to reply.

“Storm, that’s usually a mate decision.” Jean added.

“Yeah, so is trying for a baby.” she quipped back.

Jean and Logan locked eyes and it was obvious to you and Storm that they were mind linking. 

“Well, it makes complete sense. Whoever guides our pup safely into the world should be a godparent.” Jean confirmed.

“And that’s me. You’re welcome.” you replied.

“Great, now we’ll never be rid of her.” Logan threw in and you snorted with laughter.

Meanwhile on the other side of Brookville……….

Steve stood learning against the window frame looking out on to the packs land. Two years ago he had a letter in his hand telling him of his inheritance and now his pack were settled.

Well as settled as a bunch of ex-military reprobates could be. 

“Uncle Steve” called a little voice pulling his attention away from the window. He looked down to see Lila, Clint’s middle child, starting to climb his leg. 

“You k?”

“Yeah, sweetheart I’m ok.” Steve replied lifting him into his arms.

“Face sad.”

“I’m OK.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Steve spotted a shooting star dance across the sky. “Hey look, you think that’s a star or Santa?”

“Oooting star”

“Shooting star sweetheart.”

“Wish”

“Yeah, you’re right, I’ll make one and you make one, ready?”

“Yes”

Steve closed his eyes and made a wish and peeked as little Lila made hers too. He held her tightly in his arms and planted a soft kiss to the top of her head.

Would he ever gets this? His own child in his arms? He didn’t know anymore, he was starting to think that the chance had been taken away by the mate that rejected him. 

“Everything OK over here?”

Clint asked, picking up on the melancholy in Steve’s scent.

“Yeah sorry, we were looking at the stars.”

“Oooting stars Daddy”

“Oh wow, you make a wish?”

“Yes for Uncle Steve?”

“You used your wish for me?” Steve asked.

“Yep!”

“That’s sweet baby, time to say goodnight though.” Clint replied, lifting Lila from Steve’s arms.

The Barton’s kids made their way around the pack saying goodnight, giving out hugs as they were told to go straight to sleep ready for Santa.

The whisper of little Lila wasn’t missed as Clint carried her upstairs, Laura following as she held  Cooper’s hand and carried baby Nathaniel.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah sweetie.”

“I wished for Uncle Stevie to be happy.”

The remaining pack members turned to look at Steve, who promptly turned back to the window, swallowing hard to try and contain the lump that had formed in his throat. 

‘Let’s hope your wish works sweetheart’, Steve thought to himself waiting for another shooting star. 

On the other side of the room Natasha locked eyes with Bucky and mind linked with him. Bucky frowned at her, she knew he didn’t like mind linking since he was a POW. 

“The Luna you keep dreaming, about what does she look like?”

Bucky cocked an eyebrow at her, which she returned both turning to look at Steve. 

[mashihope]

❥ ZB1 and their Palia romances

(This mini moodboard is made by me; I don’t own any of the pics.)

Oh my god!! Luna making a (quick) comeback!! Yeah, so rare. I've gotten way too into Palia, I'm not gonna lie. This random thought came into my brain while I was watching random videos, "who would they go for?" and it suddenly became a need to make this. I'm not gonna make any promises, as usual, I'm just trying to get myself in the creative mood after such a long time. I'm doing this for reasons that I will 99.9% not be able to fulfill once more. I apologize if I lack a lot compared to previous posts. Ignoring that, let's do this! Little disclaimer: I haven't gotten that far on the lore or the relationships on their own so these assumptions and descriptions of the characters could not be completely accurate!

Jiwoong

I found it really hard at first, not gonna lie.

I think he would find Tamala really attractive, given her whole witchy vibe (and overall attitude, I guess).

There's something about her that I feel matches Jiwoong really well.

It would be a kinda interesting pair, a vampire and a witch, who would have thought??

When asked he would simply say "age is nothing but a number" (obviously wouldn't apply out of the adult context!)

Matthew would tease him saying that they are an immortal couple after all.

Zhang Hao

This one was way easier than other members.

Funny enough, he has his priorities straight.

Yeah, we're talking about zerostraightnone after all.

He simps for Hodari. (affectionatelly)

He's been found looking at fanart questionably often.

He goes "THIS MAN" while biting his lip whenever there's a flirty dialogue. He actually blushes sometimes.

He just can't help it lmao.

(The members do side eye him when that happens though)

Don't even mention the shirtless dialogue to him or he'll go crazy.

Aside from Hodari, come on, we're talking about the one and only ZHANG HAO.

He can get whoever he wants at his feet. (or vice versa, honestly)

And that someone is Hassian.

He just loves strong men *sigh*

Hanbin

This one was hard too.

The reason? The recipe for this man keeps confusing me.

Too sweet or too spicy.

I can kinda see Kenyatta as one of his options.

Something about her rebellious nature, maybe.

I wouldn't say that it's a perfect match, but I think he would like such an open minded and free spirited woman by his side. (+ she can be kinda cute at times too!)

He would support her every decision, we love a supportive partner!

He would make Eshe love him, by the way. Not even her could resist to his charms!

To go with this, I feel he would also go for Nai'O, you know, to spice things up since (spoiler) they already had a thing going on ;)

That guy can also say the sweetest things sometimes so I think there would be a really great balance among the three :)

Matthew

We all know how much of a sweetie he is.

And who else is as sweet as him and could absolutely match his sunshine energy?

Best girl Tish!

I think they would be an instant and perfect match.

He would see her for the first time and go :0

"Oh my god you're so pretty 🥺💕" "Are you single? 🥺"

He would treat her as the prettiest and rarest flower, so "delicate and ethereal"

If not, he would try to flirt with Reth.

You know, the usual "no homo" at first. "He's just a friend"

But maaaan, "how gorgeous he looks, doesn't he?"

He finds himself giggling whenever he sees soup in a menu.

Taerae

This guy would fall for the sweet girl too.

Simp number 2?? Maybe?? More like simp then. (affectionately)

You can see him silently smiling at the screen while he's talking with her. Even when he sees her walking by.

Would never say anything weird about her, he's a soft and gentle man 😌

Dare I say... he's a "man in love"? Yes I do.

Going on a personal quest of picking up a lot of flowers just to gift them to her? Absolutely! Decorating a "special" room of his house (very cottagecore themed) so "she could someday feel at home"? You bet he will!

Other than that... Hey, hear me out.

He gives me the vibes that he may or may not be into older girls.

He has a certain charm on his own that the ladies wouldn't be able to resist.

I'm talking specifically of Subira. I know she's supposed to fall for the human anyway, but she would 100% find Taerae unusually charming and attractive.

𝓡𝓲𝓬𝓴𝔂

He would have a hard time admitting the real reasons behind this one.

Want a hint?

Young and rich.

Tall and handsome.

Passion for Fashion.

Who's that Paliamon?! ...It's Jel!

He finds that guy unexplainably familiar. "Have I seen you before??".

He'd be sooo confused at first, his brain can't process what's happening.

Gyuvin would finally be 100% convinced that 𝓡𝓲𝓬𝓴𝔂 loves himself way too much (and would definitely tease him for it lmao). #selflove king

𝓡𝓲𝓬𝓴𝔂 would be a blushing mess the second he realizes why he's gotten so attached to Jel all of a sudden.

Gyuvin

He's the embodiment of "At first I was like mmm (Einar) as a joke. But bro... I don't think it's a joke anymore".

Being his usual goofy self, he would actually find it kinda funny when he finds about Einar being an option for romance in this game.

He would take a photo and send it to the group chat "lmao guys look at this".

𝓡𝓲𝓬𝓴𝔂 would joke saying that he "should totally date him".

Gyuvin would see it as a challenge and start working on that.

Yes, he's goofy and silly, but he's really sensitive and emotional as well.

He would slowly get closer to Einar, starting to find himself relating to the most random things or empathizing too much...

He's found a really good friend after all 🥺 he doesn't even find dating the fishing robot as weird as he used to.

But. He wouldn't hesitate flirting with Hassian if that means he gets to spend more precious time with Tau 🥺

(I can definitely see Tish being an option too).

Gunwook

Our favorite nerd (affectionately).

The one who started all of this. But I'll forgive him because he's such a cutie pie.

He was the first one when I started to think about their different options.

I'm 101% sure he would LOVE Jina.

Other than just for her looks, you know what they say "smart is sexy"... Or something like that.

I feel like he's the type of person to fall for the brain first (which sounds kinda creepy and weird without context oopsie).

He would try his best to focus in and prioritize all of the quests that are related to her in any way.

There's also a chance he would kinda get jealous of Hekla, but it wouldn't go farther than a simple joke.

Assuming he actually loves to talk non-stop about "smart stuff" and throw around random facts he's learned, he would be all "smile and nod" (and blush) in real life if she wasn't a fictional character.

Yujin

Wasn't sure about adding him, but I found it really cute.

Once again, going for the popular option here, he would have a crush on Tish.

I can not see this any other way.

He's a shy baby but would try his absolute best to have a "clear" mind when it comes to choosing the best responses on dialogue.

You know, he wants to show that he can act like a rational adult too.

...would actually fail more often than not and ask the older hyungs for advice. He wants to do things right (he's taking this seriously).

He likes to see it as a "traning for real life". There's a lot to learn that can also be applied to non romantic relationships!

At the end of the day, he would try to sound "poetic" (or something like that) by saying that "with love, patience and communication all relationships can bloom".

The hyungs can't help but tease him because of how cute he is!

[danmeichael]

danny whats your favorite rarepair and why

buddy i've got second lead syndrome, everything i ship is a rarepair.

i usually like main pairings, but i think the designated and set roles of romantic relationships as played out in romance are often less compelling to me than the dynamics allowed between characters who aren't supposed to end up together. there's less priority given to cultivating romantic or sexual chemistry to endear the reader to the ship. for platonic relationships, the author looks at the characters and goes "okay, what is their dynamic. how can i make it interesting. how do they connect" rather than defaulting to "how can i make these characters seem like a good couple"

(granted this is also partly bullshit because i do this with non-romance too and i will most likely ship at least one half of the fan-favorite pairing with someone who is not the fan favorite pairing, so??? my brain just loves rare vintage ships.)

as far as danmei goes i think my first rarepair was wen ning/wei wuxian. i expected this to be a popular ship but apparently not? i guess it's not the rarest pair out there for modao but most people seem very content with wangxian (understandable i do love them), or the rarer chengxian (my particular manifestation of madness) i guess even rarer is wn/wwx/lwj because polyam ships always have a pretty modest fanbase, and i am a pretty big polyam shipper.

currently i've been talking to a friend about chu wanning and xue zhengyong so that's both reignited my deep and abiding affection for them and also given me brand new brainworms. i don't have a favorite rare pair, really, but they are my current fixation of choice!

i think that cwn and xzy make a good team, that they rely on and support each other in ways they can't with other people. xzy has to be a good sect leader. cwn has to be the beidou immortal. but not with each other, not in the quiet of the night when they drink together and they are just men. just human.

i think xzy's patient and unconditional love is good for cwn. his compassion, is willingness to meet people where they are, his ability to see right through cwn's guarded demeanor and see him as a human being with a soft heart who needs somewhere safe to sleep. he makes a habit of picking up strays and cwn is a feral cat he has lovingly socialized.

cwn is a lot less guarded and a lot more relaxed around xzy, too, imo, and i think xzy gets something out of that little slip of cwn's internal softness. the fact that xzy can laugh at cwn and cwn gets huffy and yells at him but doesn't completely retreat into himself is a sign of how much trust they have in each other.

chu wanning has proved his kind heart to xue zhengyong, his selflessness. how can xzy not love someone who has hurt so much and who has gone through hardship who has seen the coldness people treat him with and has decided that's unimportant? that he just wants to be good, no matter what people think of him.

and xue zhengyong has proved that his affection for cwn comes with no catches, no caveats. he's proved that he loves him unconditionally, that nothing chu wanning does, no matter how hard he tries to push xue zhengyong away, could actually make him turn his back on him.

i think they're best friends. and that they should kiss.

[sugamamacustard]

Two for One Special!

Pairing:  Alpha! Tendo Satori x Omega! Reader X Alpha! Nishinoya Yu (Poly!) 

Genre: Fluff

Request: Heyo! :3 could I request a omega!reader where they’re kinda in a love triangle between two alphas of your choice? But then they kinda compromise and end up being in a poly relationship? Fluffy or not is up to you! -Mochi

Summary: You weren’t even a manager. You were a medic for the Nekoma team and yet, you still caught they of not one, but two, powerhouse alphas. What could go wrong, right?

Author’s Note: This is literally the rarest rare pair to ever pair but I think they’d make a cute couple??? Like, their energy just looks like it would be compatible. idk, i just want a fic with these two,  🥺  Also- hi Mochi! :DDDD Also also- I thinking of changing my banners, any idea on what kind of aesthetic I should change them too? Or like a new website to make them on? Idk anymore.

Requests: Open!

Satori Tendo & Yu Nishinoya

➵  “Tetsuro Kuroo!” 

➵  You weren’t necessarily scary in the grand scheme of things, but when you were armed with not only a med pack, but a rock fucking hard ice pack?

➵ Terrifying. 

➵ The head alpha was shivering just thinking about it. 

➵ They were at a training camp where every team in their precinct was forced to go, and while they were in the middle of a practice match against Fukorodani, Kuroo had landed on his ankle wrong. 

➵ You were the resident medic-- as one of your relatives was a paramedic and you were well versed in the world of medical needs. 

➵ So you were the nurse for Nekoma, and apparently every other volleyball player. 

➵ You didn’t mind though. 

➵ You were happy to help. Even if sometimes, you felt the injuries were a little... overplayed. 

➵ You checked over Kuroo’s ankle quickly, placing the ice pack against it and helping him off the court. He’d be fine, but better to be safe rather than sorry. 

➵ He’d rest it for the rest of the game and be as good as new. 

➵ You continued explaining why he needed to rest, unaware of the eyes watching you.

➵ “Tanaka, we’re bros, right?”

➵ Looking over, Tanaka raised a brow at Noya. “Last, I checked, yeah?”

➵ “Good, good. Can you do me a favour?” Noya now looked up to him, eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. 

➵ “I...can? Depends on what it is-”

➵ “Punch me in the face.”

➵ “What-”

➵ “Please. Tanaka. Your my bro, Ryu. Punch me in the face.” 

➵ At this point, even Daichi was looking to Nishinoya, raising a brow. 

➵ “You know, getting Kiyoko’s-”

➵ “Daichi, it’s not Kiyoko anymore.” Noya clasped his hands, holding them up to his cheeks as he fluttered in a weird, love induced fluke. “Have you seen Nekoma’s medic?”

➵ There was a moment of- what the fuck that rushed over the court, making Daichi face-palm.

➵ Tanaka was busy cheering that he had Kiyoko to himself, but Noya didn’t care. 

➵ He just needed to get you over here some how. 

➵ “A shrimp like you? Thinking you have a chance?” The tall middle blocker of Shiritorizawa sneered. 

➵ Tendo had been watching you as well, eyes careful and locked on. 

➵ “What’s it to you?” The libero growled, making Tendo snort a laugh. 

➵ “I mean, just looking at the grand scheme of things, do you even stand a chance?” It was mean, yes, but Tendo wasn’t a nice person. 

➵ The libero winced. “Of course I do. I’m not watching her like some sort of stalker.” 

➵ Shit. That one hurt. Tendo let out a warning growl, this time actively being aggressive towards the much shorter alpha. He didn’t back down, growling right back.

➵ No one knew what to do except watch. If they interfered now, that could result in a full blown pack fight. Karasuno vs. Shiritorizawa would turn very ugly, very quickly. 

➵ “Hey! If you two knotheads are done stinking up the gym, why don’t you continue on with your game, huh? Other teams need the court.” 

➵ All heads snapped to you, silently praying for your, probably now limited, life. 

➵ You stood with your hands on your hips, one jutted out. You looked bored with having to yell at the alphas, but knew it had to be done. Like a tired mother. 

➵ To everyone’s shock, both backed down, grumbling under their breath as the next set was set back up. 

➵ You knew this was far from over, but shook your head at the small bit of peace you had for the moment.

➵ Even if you had to hit Kuroo when he started cackling.

___

➵ You knew the peace wouldn’t last long. The minute the game was done and you were alone filling water bottles, the two were hounding you.

➵ Asking you questions about your life at Nekoma, you, your life, everything. 

➵ You answered them, occasionally asking some back, but it was obvious you were focused on the water bottles. 

➵ Then the fated question came. 

➵ “Can I get your number?” “Wait-no, me too!”

➵ You rolled your eyes, giving them the digits before turning and leaving. 

➵ That was probably your first mistake

➵ You were constantly bombarded with texts to the point you just made a group chat with the two of them  and let them figure out their own rivalry. 

➵ That turned against you as well. 

➵ Since now, they weren’t fighting, they were teaming up against you.

➵ “I’ll beat up those deadbeats if you need me too.” “Without me? For shame, Noya.”

➵ “Paradise, you are literally the most gorgeous thing I’ve seen.” “Step on us.”

➵ “Okay, but like, what if- hear me out- we stole the horses from Shiritorizawa, and totally went princess bride on you?” “Well guess what buddy boy. I got an extra uniform to sneak you in and I know the horses by name.”

➵ Yeah. You didn’t know what was worse. Having two alphas pinning after you or having both show up on horses, dressed in the most ridiculous outfits you’ve ever seen.

➵ As annoying as they were though, you grew closer with them. 

➵ You all would take turns travelling to the others during the weekends, grabbing lunch, coffee, whatever was suitable for the time you guys met.

➵ While you didn’t pursue a relationship immediately, by the time you all were in University, you were mated to them and happy. 

➵ You were making plans to live in Paris, where Satori could pursue a career in chocolate, Yuu was finishing up a photography degree where he would also get a good lift off in Paris and you were finishing your residency at a nearby hospital, planning a wedding in your free time (With the boys helping every step of the way)

➵  Life was good, and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

➵ “Hey, if Tanaka actually punched me, would you have helped me?”

➵ “I would’ve laughed at you and threw an ice pack at you.” 

➵ “Mean, baby, so mean.” 

➵ “Aw- I totally could’ve gotten Ushiwaka to hit me back then. Smart thinking, Yuu.”

➵ “Please don’t feed his ego.”

➵ “EGO IS ALREADY FED BABY-”

[dinpascal]

No Good Deed — Din Djarin

No Good Deed — Chapter One

➥ There’s an unconscious Mandalorian outside your door, along with some tiny, green thing clutching at his cloak. There has to be some sort of manual that tells you what to do in this situation... Right? 

There were many things to hate about Nevarro. The miles and miles of just-barely crusted over magma, the Rebels that tended to brush through every now and again, acting all high and mighty and as if they were too good to set foot on such a planet. However, without a single doubt, the thing you hated the most was the damn Guild.

You had never been the type of person to judge another for their method of survival. You had done many... unsatisfactory things in your lifetime, just to see another day. A few of those still kept you awake at night, debating whether you were deserving of what you had, no matter how miniscule. The Guild, however, was an entirely different thing.

Perhaps it was the mere fact that at least seventy percent of the people you served were hunters from the Guild. And if not already in the Guild, aiming for opportunity to be. They were a cocksure group, always carrying themselves with an aura of arrogance and as if they were allowing you the privilege of surviving. As if your little, insignificant life was balanced between their fingers, because they were all so skilled in the art of bounty hunting.

A lot of mudscuffers, in your opinion.

You wiped your palms down your apron, which did little about the stickiness that was present from hours of drink-making. The hairs were no-doubt spilling from your braid, hardly remembering to breathe in-between each order and the chaos that surrounded you. Creatures of all kind called out to you in many  different languages, some you understood and others you required your “partner” to translate. The droid was good for nothing apart from that, perhaps apart from being perpetually in your way. It reached the point where you no longer felt guilty for bumping it out of your way. 

Today, evidently, was Greef Karga’s awaited return from some mission, leading to the assembly of many (impatiently) awaiting their next bounty. In other words, the bar was way past its capacity limit. Many patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder, filling the building with endless, buzzing chatter that made the ache that much more present at your brow.

“C’mon, I’ve been trying for months. Why don’t you let me take you out? Just one night?” You eyed your suitor as you collected empty glasses and bottles, eyeing him with a thoroughly practiced smile that gave him the impression you enjoyed his company. It was something you were forced to learn early in this occupation, if you were even remotely interested in tips. Customers, males especially, enjoyed feeling wanted. As if they had any semblance of a chance with the “pretty thing” that served them drinks behind the counter.

“Cardon, you know I don’t date bounty hunters.” You replied, taking a moment to take another order and busying yourself with making it. Luckily, very few (if any) frequenters drank anything complicated, often preferring spotchka and even simple shots of hooch.

The dark-skinned hunter smiled, moving to brush his hair back with a gloved hand. “And why not? Don’t think you could handle one?” If you had to decide, Cardon wasn’t the worst of the bunch you could choose from. He had ebony hair that touched the top his shoulders, the top half often twisted into a bun. He was tall enough, but quite lanky compared to many of the other hunters that frequented the cantina. 

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop from laughing. If you had to guess, the majority of the hunters you served only had one head. Instead of commenting further, you motioned towards his glass. “Want another, Cardon?” He waved a hand in silent agreement, seemingly coming to terms that he was, yet again, striking out with you. 

“I think I’m your relief for the night.” You turned, positively beaming at the sight of olive skin and black eyes. “Alejad... My savior.” He grinned wickedly and threw a rag over his shoulder, lightly tsking at the mess you’d made of the bar. 

“So very messy. Have I not taught you a thing?” 

With a roll of your eyes and slight scoff, you began fingering the knot of your apron. “We’ll see how lucky you end up tonight. Karga isn’t even supposed to be showing up until second sundown.” You brushed your hand over his shaved head as you passed behind him, an act of affection you’d picked up in the time you’d worked together. Alejad had been the one to train you, considering no one else apart from the two of you seemed to want to work in this hunk of junk somehow considered a “proper establishment”. 

Stepping out of the back entrance with your day’s tips firmly shoved in your pocket, the silence of the alley was almost dizzying compared to what you’d dealt with for the last seven hours. Despite the distant sounds of the hustle and bustle of the market, it was much more preferable. Almost anything was preferable to being cat-called and yelled at all day. 

With a sigh and a brush of the back of your hand across your forehead, you finally made your way home. It wasn’t a far walk, just a few twists and turns that made it a comfortable enough walk to and from work. Your home was nothing exciting, nothing more than what you absolutely needed — the absolute bare essentials. It had once served as some kind of building for the Imps that were once stationed on Nevarro and eventually separated into two, unconnected homes once the Imps were chased (or killed) out. A little family had moved into the home above yours, made up of a young Twi’lek couple and a little, rose-colored girl you doubted had seen more than five cycles. You often found her crouched outside your home, digging through the dirt to find new additions to her rock collection. On the rarest of days, when you’d either be leaving or just returning from the bar, she’d already be outside as the first sun was rising and would offer you a toothless smile that made your heart warm. 

However, given the first sun was only just beginning to set, there was no young girl parading about the property. Hopefully, she was busy eating a plentiful dinner with her parents and had a nice, warm bed to look forward to tonight. 

The door creaked as you stepped inside, double-checking that you’d locked it behind you before making your way (all three steps of it) to the kitchen. With a quick look in the conservator, it seemed for the fourth night in a row now, you were having broth for dinner. With a sigh, you discarded your dirty apron aside and flipped the oven on to reheat your soup. It seemed you were in dire need for a trip to the market. 

There were a dozen and a half things you needed to do around the house, including a deep clean of your floors, as well as stripping your bed and washing the linens that you’d ignored for much too long. Taking the trash out was sufficient enough for the night, right? Right.

The evening air was cool against your skin, the first emergence of the first sunfall of the night beginning to appear. In a matter of hours, the cool air would soon become too cold to bear without some kind of protection. It was an interesting contradiction. While the ground beneath your feet was warm, almost hot to the touch because of the molten lava beneath it, the air was often cool and bleak the moment the suns began to sleep for the night. 

A soft noise behind you drew you from your thoughts, nothing more than a gentle, sad coo. You immediately turned, worrying a young babe had dodged their parents and was now exploring with no supervision. While Nevarro was now exponentially safer now that the Imps were gone, it still was no place for a child to be roaming at first sunfall. 

The last thing, actually very last thing you had expected was the sight before you. A Mandalorian slumped against your home with a little, green creature clutching at the frayed ends of his cloak. It regarded you for no longer than a moment, big eyes quickly returning to the hunter and cooing softly once more, as if urging him to get up. It tugged at the cloak again, its free hand bumping against his shoulder as if the tiny jostle would wake him.

You stood there a moment, almost afraid to take another step towards the pair. Though you’d never met a Mandalorian yourself, their reputation was enough to make your legs shake a bit under your weight. None too long ago, one had caused the entire town to burst into gunfire and killed dozens of other hunters. Undoubtedly, he (was it a he?) knew more than a dozen ways to kill you. And the creature? While it looked harmless enough now, how could you know if it would begin spewing venom at you the moment you took two steps towards it? If you’d learned anything growing up, it was to not trust a species you didn’t know. And you’d learned that lesson the hard way. 

As if aware of your thoughts, its eyes turned towards you once more and made another sad sound. It pulled at something deep inside you, something dormant and untraveled. Whatever it was, it urged you to move your damn feet and make the poor thing stop giving you those big, sorrowful eyes. 

“Okay...” Hesitantly, as if standing eye-to-eye with a Nexu, you braved a step forward. When it didn’t abruptly move or hiss, you took another. “Hey... little guy,” you murmured, eyes flickering from gleaming silver to the little one’s, “What happened?” 

It whined pitifully, turning towards the Mandalorian with a three-fingered hand as if motioning towards him and saying, ‘help him, will ya?’. 

If it were any other situation, you may have found the little creature amusing. It didn’t seem to be able to speak, but its body language and big, bug eyes were expressive enough. 

Once you were close enough to touch the Mandalorian, you slowly kneeled and made sure it stayed in your peripheral. You doubted it would suddenly sprout wings at this point, but you could never be too sure. Maybe it enjoyed playing with its food. 

“I’m gonna... Take him inside, okay?” Much to your surprise, it nodded and backed away a couple paces to give you space. Okay, so the green thing was intelligent. Good to know. 

With a steadying breath, you maneuvered your way around the Mandalorian so you could (attempt to) lift him. You imagined his armor couldn’t be light by any means, meaning you were going to have to carry a man already twice your weight, along with that much more in armor. “Knew I should have bought those weights...”

Sliding your arms under his armpits and securing your hold through intertwining your hands over his chest, you figured this was the best chance you had. There was no way you were getting him up over your shoulder and you figured dragging him by his feet wasn’t the best method, in case of a possible head injury. 

The breath immediately whooshed out of your lungs as you straightened, using gravity to your advantage and using the force to drag him backwards, instead of back down like it wanted. The little rag-covered bean waddled after you, apparently not willing to allow the Mandalorian out of his sight. 

The helmet lulled forward as you mostly-dragged him into your home, most certainly and unquestionably out cold. 

In the middle of your kitchen, you paused. Where the hell were you going to put him? The kitchen certainly wasn’t spacious enough for him. It was hardly enough room for you to comfortably move about. 

That left your bedroom.

“Just a little farther, alright?” You huffed, suddenly very keenly aware of the heaviness in your shoulders and triceps. The creature stumbling after the Mandalorian’s feet cooed in response, seemingly more content now than before. 

It took you much longer than you would’ve liked, but eventually, you somehow managed to get the damn guy on your bed. His feet hung over the bed and no doubt was coating your sheets in dirt and blood and who knew what else. At least they already needed washed.

After taking a moment (minutes, really) to catch your breath and watching the bean climb its way up your bed and back to the Mandalorian’s side, you once more found yourself at a loss. What the hell do you do now? 

Checking him for injuries was probably the best next course of action. You didn’t want the guy to die right here, on your bed, right?  

With your hands on your hips and a sweat breaking out over your brow, you looked in the what you now mentally referred to as the bean’s direction. “These guys have something against taking off their helmet, right?” Your response was a sound you couldn’t quite differentiate between amusement and agreement. Nevertheless, you nodded. “That’s what I thought.” 

After another few minutes of heavy consideration, you decided starting from the bottom-up was probably your best bet. If you were lucky, he was just incredibly sleep-deprived and absolutely nothing else was wrong with him. 

The little bean at his shoulder watched as you methodically undressed the Mandalorian, beginning with the armor as his shoulders and then moving to his chest plate. You made a small stack of it just beside your bed, being careful to not add any dinks or scratches that weren’t already on them. 

With shaky fingers, you began lifting his shirt to inspect any possible torso wounds. You were met with caramel skin etched in paler, puffier skin in various places where he’d been wounded and scarred over. A trail of dark, nearly black hair drew your gaze below his belly button and disappearing into his trousers.

You swallowed. This was not the time.

“Stomach looks good.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself. You pushed the fabric up further until it was under his chin, fingers delicately brushing across an angry, red line just below his left clavicle. It didn’t look serious and most likely just a result from his armor pressing into his skin, but it gave you an excuse to feel his skin beneath your fingertips. His chest was faintly dotted with hair, nipples pebbling at the sudden exposure to the air. “Chest looks good too.”

That left on more thing to check, the one thing you were hoping you wouldn’t have to do. 

You sank back onto your haunches for a moment, teeth anxiously worrying at the inside of your cheek as you considered your options. You didn’t have to do anything — you’d already given him and his... pet? Child? Friend? Somewhere to rest and checked him for any serious, deadly injuries. On the other hand, however, what if he did have a head injury? Without aid, a head injury could easily and quickly result in death. And you certainly didn’t want a dead Mandalorian on your hands. 

“Second option it is.” You murmured, brushing your palms down your trousers and taking a soothing breath. “But,” you began, pointing a finger in the air as you looked towards the bean. “I am not being that person.” You disappeared out of the room for a moment, quickly returning with a clean rag and making a show so the bean could see it. “See?” 

The bean, seemingly content, made an inquisitive sound. With one hand, you curled your fingers under the helmet’s edge and searched for the locking mechanism. Once you felt the tiny button, you nudged it and released a breath as it unlocked. “Okay, okay... Just gotta do this quick...”

With one, shaky hand, you gently tugged the helmet free from his head, immediately snapping your eyes shut the second you no longer felt the weight of his head. Discarding the heavy thing aside, you took the rag and, as efficiently as possible with your eyes firmly shut, placed it over his face. Though it wouldn’t make breathing especially easier, it at least would preserve some of his modesty. 

Once finished, you took a deep breath and regarded your work. You turned towards the bean with a triumphant smile. “Not bad, yeah?”

The bean regarded the rag with something akin to distaste but you couldn’t be sure. It was difficult to distinguish every emotion with its tiny face. The majority of your basis was just on its eyes.

You maneuvered your way around the pile of metal on your floor, as well as your own things to the head of the bed, eyes settling on the head of brown, presumably thick hair that stuck out from under the rag.

When was the last time someone so much as had seen a strand of his hair? Had anyone ever? Yet there you were, looking at not only it, but nearly everything else aside from his face. 

You eyed the creature currently tracing a three-fingered claw up the Mandalorian’s arm. It seemed... Conflicted. As if the whole world rested on its little shoulders, now that the Mandalorian was no longer protecting it. Its tiny features were pinched in worry, shoulders slumped forward and ears drooping at the corners. 

You wanted to console the little thing, except you still weren’t completely sure it wouldn’t nip at you if you got too close. 

Turning your attention back to the man (because at the current moment, he seemed to pose less danger), you cautiously slid your fingers around the back of his head. There was nothing but thick, course hair, even as you rounded the back of his head. At the very least, there were no external injuries. 

Until you looked down. 

And found that his foot was twisted at an angle that it most definitely wasn’t supposed to. 

“Well, kriff.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself. You regarded the said appendage for awhile, unsure quite what to do now. It wasn’t that you didn’t know what to do, but moreso the fact that you weren’t sure you wanted to go snapping a bounty hunter’s leg back into place. It was usually something a person informed another of before doing. 

With a sigh, you turned your attention back to the little bean. Though you had little to no clue if it was capable of understanding you (though it had somewhat shown it could), it made you the teensiest amount less nervous to talk to it. “Maybe it’s better to do it while he’s out. What do you think?” The bean babbled something incoherently. You nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too.”

✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ 

Surprisingly, the Mandalorian hardly flinched when you snapped his ankle back into place. Most surprisingly, he hadn’t woken up either. Hours later and he was still completely dead to the world. Numerous times you had to check to make sure he was still breathing. 

After about hour five, the bean decided to venture from his side. It appeared at your feet just as you were elbow-deep in washing, first inquisitively watching you scrub at your clothes, as if you were doing something it had never quite seen.

“Hey, little... Guy,” you finished lamely, pausing to eye the green creature as its head tilted to the side and those big eyes blinked. It made a soft sound, as if expecting you to easily understand. When you didn’t immediately react, it’s features pinched and it threw its arms up as if it were exclaiming something as it spewed into further coos and babbles.

You stared blankly.

What would a small, green creature want? A new, preferably clean rag for clothes? For you to throw something so you could chase it? Something to sink its little teeth into?

You faulted for a moment in your thinking. “Are you hungry?” It nodded immediately, fingers touching its belly and watching you with a look that clearly said ‘that’s what I was saying!’. “Okay, well, what do you eat?” It blinked as you stood from your washing, little feet tapping against the tiled floor as it followed you. “All I really have is broth, so it’s either broth or nothing.” It didn’t make any sound of disagreement or disappointment, so you took it as enough agreement and poured the still-warm broth (which you’d forgotten about until the stove beeped indignantly at you, still preoccupied with snapping a literal bone back into place) into a bowl. When it took the bowl you offered it, it blinked at it for a moment. Then it blinked up at you. 

“What? It’s all I got, little guy so I—,” It cut you off as it set the bowl down, before lifting its arms up that very plainly was uppity arms that babies were known for doing. It left you to stand there for a moment, mouth falling open and eyebrows shooting upwards. “You’re a kid?”

It babbled impatiently, big eyes looking at its meal before back up at you again. “Okay, um...” Slowly, still not completely sure you trusted it, you picked it up and then its bowl of broth. “You need... Help?” It cooed in what you assumed was agreement.

That was how you found yourself sitting at your table, some kind of child creature sitting in your lap as you spoon-fed it broth and occasionally pausing to let it babble something or burp. 

It was quite the character, you were learning. 

And quite the conversationalist. If only you could understand a word it was saying. 

Then you felt the atmosphere change... Shift. Where calm once sat, something you could only describe as charged replaced it. The child seemed to notice as well. Its head turned toward your bedroom, softly squealing and clapping its hands together. The Mandalorian was awake. There was a moment of silence as the dread pooled in your belly and a chill ran down your spine. 

This was the moment you hadn’t really considered. Many people, especially a Mandalorian, wouldn’t like waking up in a strange place with their armor stripped and their damned helmet off. 

Dank farrick, you just had to go and get yourself involved.

The seconds stretched as complete silence filled your home. Not even the child made another sound, though it was evident its feelings were a stark contrast from your own. Of course, it hadn’t dragged a Mandalorian into its home and practically stripped him bare. 

There was a flash of silver at the doorway of your bedroom. 

No good deed goes unpunished indeed. 

[arthrobug]

1. Whatever font Google Doc has that wrinkles my brain/Whatever font Wattpad is in

2. I used to write while books and everything by hand, there's a reason there was a giant bump there and only has become smaller in recent years. Thank glob for computer writing my hand, wrist, and arm has never been so painless.

4. First thought was the usage of 'cocked'. Off the top of my head it can be used in four separate ways that are all slightly or incredibly different.

6. That I suck at it- ya know, the usual writer's fear.

7. The power to make people clench their chest or punch the air in happiness, pain, sadness, anger, etc. Feel your heart rage at my lexicon, I beseech you.

8. A philosophical story. That shiz could go on forever and I wouldn't see a lick of movement until page 117.

9. 👻

10. A Lidge (Lance x Pidge) fic was the first thing I published on Wattpad. I don't regret shipping the pairing itself, but DAMN was the writing, pacing, ALL OF IT was off as hell... A paragraph break was the rarest thing in it, e u g h .

12. The ability to know what word I'm desperately trying to recall for what I'm writing. How to write the emotion I want to portray in the way I want to (bad, okay, good). Lastly, the ability to change writing styles/genre styles incredibly easily.

13. Difficult? Uh, that's difficult to think about ironically lmao- I'm not exactly sure, but I guess topics I don't know much about. That changes quickly though, I research fast and thoroughly. Easiest has to be emotional outbursts, mental health situations, and other shtuff similar to that. Hilariously, romance is also kind of easy, says the AroAce asdfghjkl-

14. Books be mine, no touchy. That's it, memory be very poor-

15. I read exclusively on my bed/anywhere that's comfortable to me, and no I don't write or bend physical books, never have and never will... Actually, I bend corners a little cuz of my wiggle brain BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT-

16. A cat's tail; sanitized/covered food; my leg or head

17. 'The Seven Deadly Skele-Sins' follows the story of an incredibly traumatized skeleton monster blackmailed into doing burlesque work. The leader of one of the two gangs in the city, Nightmare, saves him from an attack, and they slowly become friends, and eventually the gang leader reveals who he is to the blackmailed monster. After some plot points, training, etc, the blackmailed skeleton decided to officially join the gang as the Seventh Sin, Lust. There's also the several Warriors fics my brain has suddenly shoved into my eyes, the most prominent one being (name might change) 'Dripstar's Protection', where a loner becomes the leader of a Clan, and he and his Clanmates' arrival saves the other three Clans from further destruction of themselves.

19. I started when I was four, and it's been going pretty well, I guess. People would always tell me my writing and reading ability was far higher than the other kids, but nowadays? I'm clearly slowing down and I almost seem to be getting dumber or something. It's getter harder to read, speak, and occasionally write. It's probably because of my blatantly obvious mental disabilities, but I dunno, lmao. I want to expand my vocabulary a bit more, and try out new genres of fanfiction to write!

20. 😰... thesecondchoice

21. Heck no, mun.

22. I either organize my notes really well or I just sh-t out the story as soon as I think of it lkjhgfds-

23. My writing environment is very commonly in the comfort of my room. I usually sit or lay down on my three blanketed bed, the lowest layer being a thin, pale blue, and cool sheet. The second being a thicker, warmer and fluffier blanket of the same colour, and the third being a light yet heavy light brown comforter, the underside of the sectioned comforter a ghostly brown, almost white. The sheet covering the scratchy white mattress is also the same shade of blue as the previously mentioned blankets. It's slowly peeling off, and needs to be reattached to the mattress soon. There are three store-bought pillows on the bed, the longest being the farthest back: a red and black checkered item with a black cover. The two other pillows on it is a pillow with a pale grey cover, and a scrunched up white pillow with a red cover. There is a large and worn Panda Pillow Pet resting on the red pillow, a slightly less used and smaller panda to the left of it. The smaller Pillow Pet is barely propped against a big homemade pillow, it is cyan and fluffy, and a much smaller homemade pillow of the same style rests on it. It's top side is also cyan and furry, but the bottom is smooth and soft, a lace design of faded white on it. An additional store-bought pillow is propped against the homemade one. It has a black cover, and it is very feeble and easy to bend. This pillow rests under the three blankets, which means 3/4 of it is covered. For comfort, 13 plushies of different designers and styles are scattered across the messy bed and pillows. A Fresh!Ink plushie is tucked under the blankets. Two handmade insect plushies sit on the big fluffy pillow, their colours like the Asexual flag: black at the front, grey next, then white, and lastly purple, with their little nubs of legs reflecting the colour they are attached to, four white eyes on the black section, and crooked grey antennae attached to the dark head as well. Behind the insect plushies, and again, on the largest pillow, the smallest homemade headrest -one the size of a hand-held purse, covered in cyan fur as well,- acts as a blanket for three Pikmin toys: red on the left, blue in the middle, and yellow on the right. Their stalks of leaves, bulbs and flowers lay on a large, cylindrical corgi plushie that is wearing a corgi hat, and has a paler and smaller corgi plush standing on all four paws on its bright orange back. Directly above the smaller panda Pillow Pet, a ferret toy lies. It's name is Minty, and it is a replacement of the original ferret plush, Vainilla. Next to Minty, a kangaroo Squishmallow named Ross lies on its back, staring with its beady black eyes up to the white ceiling. The side of the bed that is against the wall sits two gargoyle plushies. They're clearly Squishmallow ripoffs, but they're cute anyways. Finally, stuffed away to the open side of the bed, a tiny and old hedgehog stuffie hides under the large homemade pillow, tucked away under it.

This was too many words lmao next question

25. About most of my characters: 3/4ths of them are either gay, disabled, monsters, or all three. It's actually more like 7/8ths,,,,

26. I sometimes think if it happening to me (dark/sweet I know), or I already know what it's like and I apply my personal experience.

27. No clue! Honestly, maybe characters I don't like/relate to at all ahaha-

28. Monsters and trans masc characters 😌💞��️‍⚧️💀

31. Y'all pretty if you give me comments, votes, whatever more than simple reads, I give you smoochies muah muah

32. The poem 'Ozymandias'. I've been following SAD-ist long before the green rat man was scuttling around, and I simply loved that animation a ton, but that poem... I don't know why, but it's very important/influential to me.

33. Illustrations of course! I make those for my writing works lmao

35. "Write everyday!" B-tch I'm tired let me rest

36. I know that centipedes on my absolute favorite arthropod. Did you know their family name class name can't remember whatever is called Chilopoda I find that funny millipedes are called diplopoda you know like diplo's and no man's sky what fun I'm using Texas speech no one really cares not Texas all right whatever. Y'all know what pauropods are if anyone ever seen the f****** troll movies trolls movie God those movies suck in my opinion but like the little little dj things they ride on those things look like pauropods and pauropods are so f****** cute that's not how you spell pauropods you s***** ass text to speech I'm swearing a lot oh jeez this is a wall of text hahaha holy crap it actually caught me laughing well actually I just said hahaha but you know whatever wait what was the question

37. A very wordy and depressed sociopath maybe

38. I talk to myself to figure it. I don't actually find it weird but non-writers def do. My cat is always talkin sh-t bout me while also cuddling and loving me

39. The thought of failure.

40. I don't know how to write poems, I'm really bad at them asdflkjhg-

Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

31. Write a short love letter to your readers.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

[random-mha-thoughts]

Baby (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Anon requested: “Hiii!! I jus wanna say ur writing is one of the best I've read so far (and I've read a lot). It's been a while since I've read a oneshot that made me feel tingles (u know why I mean right, it's hard to explain 😅) anyway jus wanna say I love ur writing!! Also, if u don't mind I'd like to request a fluff with bakugou where he gets his wisdom teeth removed and he just becomes the softest thing everrrrr! :) if ur not taking requests rn I dont mind if u skip this one. Adios ;)"

Thanks for the kind words and the request anon! I hope you like it~

Genre: Floof. Pure, plotless floof

Word count: 973

Tags:  @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: Today was tiring as hell. I got up at 7:30 to study for my exam at 1 pm and I had a 2 hour lecture to go over after that.  I feel like I was studying for a good 10 hours today alone and I was already tired this entire week.  And it's only Wednesday... Which is why I couldn't wait to write this! I was in dire need of some plain, quick, simple, plotless floof, so I’m happy I had this request to fill next.  I hope you guys out there are in a good mental state as the semester is wrapping up, and if not I hope this cheered you up a bit!

Also (I’m a few days late but still) Ramadan Mubarak to my muslim readers/followers!  I wish you an easy fast, willpower, and spirituality in the following month. You got this!  I’ll also try to include NSFR warnings if anyone wants? I know swearing and spicy stuff aren’t allowed, but I’m not 100% sure about the fluffy stuff so let me know!

"This way, Katsuki, let's go."  I gently pull my boyfriend down the street, capturing his arm in mine to balance his wobbly gait.

He mumbles something incoherent and leans into me.  "We going home now?"

"Yup, I already picked up your medication.  Are you keeping that ice pack on your face?"

"Yeeees," he groans.  Katsuki usually hates it when I mother him, but today he really needed it.  Poor guy was scared of having his wisdom teeth removed and didn't trust anyone else to accompany him.  It's kind of endearing, especially since he's become such a giant, clumsy mess now.  "You're becoming my mom."

"Well, you are acting like a lost child right now, who else is gonna take care of you?"  I squeeze his hand reassuringly.

He hums in response before leaning onto me, "I guess I'm really lucky then."  Removing the ice pack, he pokes his cheek.  "Can you kiss it better?"

I blink, completely floored by his request.  I know the anesthesia has its effects on people, but it seems it makes Katsuki way more soft and needy than usual.

Not that I'm complaining.

I stand on my toes and peck his cold cheek.  "Is it better now?"

"Mmm, I'll probably need another dose in an hour," he encircles both of his arms around one of mine, "I'll let you know how the pain is."

Gosh, he's just gonna be adorable for the rest of the day, isn't he?   "Should I drop you home or do you want to rest at my place?"

Katsuki's arms crawl over to envelop my torso from behind.  "Your place, of course," he half giggles, his breath tickling my ear.

I chuckle at his behavior, directing us towards the nearest station.  I'm definitely gonna enjoy this.  A small part of me almost wants to record him, but I'd rather just enjoy these few moments I have of him acting this way.  I'm too nice to embarrass him like that.

Since it's the middle of the day during the week, the station and the train seats are mostly empty.  Katsuki gets comfortable, sprawling his legs across the cold bench and resting his head on my lap.  He keeps one of his hands messily entwined with mine and lets me use my free hand to play with his hair.  I gaze down at him, smiling to myself.  Katsuki being soft and lovable like this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.  Of course I know he loves me already, but to see him without the whole harsh persona is definitely something else.  The blooming warmth stirs me to press a soft kiss on his forehead.  My little Katsu.

He opens his eyes to stare up at me, asking out of the blue, "Do I look or sound weird?"

The childish innocence he asks the question with makes me chuckle.  "Not at all, babe."

His crimson orbs continue boring into mine for a moment, just holding my attention, before he reaches up and brings my head down to kiss his lips.  The motion takes me by surprise since he's not the type to take PDA this far in public.  The heat rushes to my cheeks, and I'm eternally grateful that this car is almost empty, and the few people here with us are busy fiddling with their phones.

"You missed, dummy," Katsuki beams before closing his eyes again.

My heart thumps.  He's so adorable sometimes.  His toothy smile was just the right amount of cute and loving, the rarest smile I've seen only once before.  I want to melt into a puddle and pinch his cheeks

You big dork.  I continue threading my fingers into his hair, the rattling of the train relaxing the tired boy.

.

Once we arrive at my apartment, Katsuki shrugs out of his jacket and shoes and situates himself under my kotatsu, not even bothering to turn it on; he just grabbed one of the long cushions, stuck it under his body, and knocked himself onto his side.  As I'm still removing my outer clothes, he reaches one arm out and makes grabbing motions.  "Babe, come lay with me," he practically whines out.

Is he pouting?  I want to laugh at his needy behavior, but I'll admit I want to cuddle with him too.  After the procedure he's been through and the pain he's going to experience in the next few days, he deserves all the hugs he wants.  Who am I to deny him?  I plug the wire in and turn the switch on before lifting the blanket up and squirming underneath.  Without wasting any time, Katsuki pulls my body flush into his chest, wiggling both of us farther underneath.

The needy boy lets out a satisfied sigh as the blanket starts heating up.  His head pulls back to look down at me, hooded scarlet eyes trying not to close as they brim with affection.  "You're my favorite."  His thumb at my cheek softly rubs at my skin.

I close my eyes and nuzzle his hand.  "Your favorite what?"

"Anything and everything."  He plants a kiss on top of my head.  "You're just my favorite thing."

Despite the fresh wave of warm tingles humming through me, I tease him, "So I'm a thing now?"

Instead of groaning like he would under normal circumstances, he crushes me closer to his body.  "Yeah, you're my teddy bear now, and you're not going anywhere for the rest of the day."

"But what if it gets really hot under here, Katsu?"

"Nope, you're still staying," he shakes his head like a stubborn kid, his voice already drooping into sleep before he yawns.  "You have to cuddle all my pain away."

As if I need a reason to cuddle you all day, silly.  My hand pats his back in a steady rhythm.  "Whatever you say, my baby Katsu."

[koskareevesismyqueen]

Hey, I got afew appointments coming up, and I really hate hospital and I hate needles even more, but I got really attached to Kix, ironic, can I get some Kix and terrified s/o with Mix trying to get them to clam down please?

Pairing: Kix x gn!reader (jedi)

Word count: ~1.1k

Rating: general

Warning: Discussion of medical based topics including needles and dislocation.

Author notes: Ah I loved this request so much! (human) medical stuff kinda freaks me out so thinking about how I’d want Kix to comfort me made this so fun and I’d love to write more stuff like this in the future.

My ask box is always open for asks and prompts – if you’re not sure what you can ask for, check my pinned post. If you enjoy please reblog. Thanks friends 💕

“Karablast,” you squeal as you hit the ground with a dull thud. For a second, you lie there, then you begin to feel the searing pain in your shoulder. The battlefield goes quiet and you realise the last of the droids have been defeated and your troopers are assessing their next steps. Through the ringing in your ears and the pain in your shoulder, you can’t figure much out. You manage to push yourself into a seated position with your good arm, then hold your hurt arm in the only way that feels mildly comfortable.

“General?” You hear as a trooper crouches in front of you. “General, are you alright?”

You let go of your injured arm and swat the trooper away. “Never mind that – how many causalities do we have?”

For a brief moment it looks like he’s about to protest, but then with a resigned sigh he says, “none, General. A few small injuries but nothing life threatening. You’re the most badly injured out of everyone here. Come on, Kix has set up a little medical station while we wait. Let’s get your arm checked out.”

You allow the trooper to help you stand and guide you over towards Kix’s makeshift medical bay. A few troopers are stood around, helping each other tend to superficial wounds. At least your boys have come out of it unscathed today, you think as a relief floods through you. The empty feeling of the force ebbing through you after a loss heavy battle always left you feeling sick to your stomach.

You sit down on the little chair that Kix has set up and patiently allow him to begin assessing your injury.

“What happened, General?” He asks soothingly as he holds your arm and begins stripping off the armour you wear to better assess you.

“I uh, I tripped over. Loose rock.” You wince again, partly from embarrassment that you, a Jedi Knight and General was this injured from tripping over a little rock, and partly from the searing pain as Kix gently moves your arm around. It’s obvious that he’s being careful, but you can’t help but yelp out in pain still.

He lets out a soft laugh as he places your arm back down. He places his hand on your other shoulder and soothingly rubs it. “Good news is, I don’t have to chop it off so your lightsaber can have a rest,” he grins at his little joke, and you smile back. If Kix is good at what thing, it’s providing a little relief in these moments where you allow fear to run through you. “It’s only a dislocated shoulder. I’ll give you a shot of some numbing liquid and bacta, then I just need to push your arm back in to your shoulder.”

Oh no, that’s fear alright. It’s not the jedi way but the sound of needles and dislocation sends pure fear running through your veins. You jump out of the chair, gather your lightsaber and armour plates in your good arm and begin walking away.

“I really appreciate the help, Kix, but I honestly think I’m fine. You worry too much. I’m just going to walk it off and help the troopers to–“

Kix darts in front of you, cutting you off. “I don’t think so, General. You might outrank me, but when you’re injured I outrank everyone. Sit down and let me fix you, otherwise you’re going to have that arm flopping around for the rest of the war. And don’t act like you can cope with that, I’m more than aware that that’s the hand you use when fighting with your lightsaber.”

You open your mouth to complain but end up screwing your face up in frustration. Kix is right. But the thought of needles and repair and more pain is too much.

“I’m scared,” you confess as you look up at him, holding back the tears which are desperate to spill over.

“Do you trust me?” He responds with that warm smile that sends your insides to goo.

You nod, cautiously. Of course you trust Kix. How could you not?

“Good. Sit.” He helps you back into the chair and digs through his medical bag. “Talk to me, General. What’s the first thing you’re going to do once the war is over?”

You screw up your nose, confused by Kix’s random turn of conversation, but answer him anyway.

“Uh, I haven’t really thought about it. Just because the war ends doesn’t mean my responsibilities as a jedi are over. I would love to go on a food and drink tour of the galaxy though. You know, travel the galaxy. Try the different types of tea. Eat the local foods.” You shrug with your good arm as you bite your lip, “it’s a far-off dream but on the hardest of nights the thought of seeing the galaxy in a nice way, away from war and death and destruction, gets me through.”

You let out a yelp as you realise that Kix has injected the needle into your arm.

“Not that bad, was it?” Kix asks as he pushes the liquid in, then carefully pulls the needle back out.

“I– yeah I guess it wasn’t so bad.”

No, it wasn’t bad at all because the feeling in your shoulder was melting away, replaced by…by ecstasy. You didn’t feel anything right now except good.

“You ever had mac n cheese, Kix?”

He laughs now, eyebrows raised as he looks down at you.

“Yes, General. You know it’s not the rarest food in the galaxy, right?”

You’re aware that he’s stood on your injured side, but by this point of it you’re too out of it to know what Kix is doing.

“Mmm but a nice hot bowl of mac n cheese would really hit the spot right now. Away from the battlefield, curled up in a nice soft blanket–“

“All done,” Kix declares as he steps back.

“I– what?” You look down at your arm, which you still can’t feel, then back up to Kix.

“Arm’s back in, all sorted. As the meds wear off it’ll feel a little sore but in a day or two you’ll have full use back.” You try to hold back the shock, confused that Kix had done the dreaded task but relieved that you somehow hadn’t even realised.

“Now, General, shall we go and find you some of that mac n cheese?”

♡♡♡♡♡

[the-badger-mole]

I know you answered q10- I was expecting sth from the show tbh. But anyway, I agree with that perfectly too. So much that I will have to write a whole book about Ursa being found (Ugh). I also read ur post about Mai "turning" and wow that's exactly what I thought. It made zero sense. Anyway a couple of more qs then: What do you think of Sokkla or any other rarepair ships? I dig sukka, but ever once in a blue moon, I will get crazy sokkla moments, hehe. Do you prefer fluff or angst in Zutara?

Sometimes you have to say a little more, especially if I've already responded to a question. Just saying. But to answer your question, my least favorite arcs in the series are pretty much anything centering Aang's lack of development. Any time Aang does something stupid or selfish or judgmental with no consequences or lessons to be learned, just assume I'm in some dark corner losing my lunch.

Mai's turn at The Boiling Rock was so out of left field, I don't think it's even fair to call it an arc, frankly. But if I were to say what failed in her arc, it's that the writers didn't let her be a complete hedonist with no real skin in the game except her own comfort and pleasure. Give me that version of Mai. We deserve Maleficent.

I am not a fan of Sokkla. I am firmly team "Ship What You Want", but honestly, I don't get the appeal. I have seen some really talented writers broach the ship, but it makes no sense to me- especially in-universe. Sokka is a lot quicker to forgive than Katara, but I don't see either sibling having an especially warm relationship with Azula. I've given my opinion on what I think Azula's redemption would look like, and I don't think she would work very hard to become friends with any of Zuko's found family, much less fall for one of them. I guess there's a version of this ship that I could see happening in an AU, but I really don't think either of them would be each other's type if they're in character.

Also, I love Sukka. I think it's the only ship that canon got right, so they hold a special place in my heart. That said, I'm fine with Yukka (although I'm not sure just how rare that pair is?)

I've talked myself into ToRu (Toph and Haru) completely by accident. I wrote one platonic interaction between them in one of my fics, and my brain just kind of ran with it. But now that it's in my brain, I think they would be adorable together- you know, when they're older. It starts out as pure admiration of Toph's skill on Haru's end, and Toph finds his brand of chill endearing.

The rarest pair I ship is probably Jun/The Boulder. It's not even something I've put that much thought into, I just think they'd get along.

As far as the types of Zutara fic I like, I prefer stories with a happy ending for them. Angst is fine, but sparingly, like salt. It hurts my heart when they don't get together in the end. I mean, I've written two fics where they don't get to be together, but we won't discuss those here.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3) - on tumblr: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7

- Chapter 8 -

Nie Huaisang was really growing up quite well, in Meng Yao’s opinion.

He’d mostly recovered from the terrible fright of his father’s death, something Nie Mingjue was still struggling with – the blessings of youth, Meng Yao supposed – and he learned every single one of their mother’s tricks as if he were secretly a fox spirit, even if his commitment to saber training was still far from what Nie Mingjue might have hoped. Meng Yao feared what would happen when they unleashed him upon the world in all the best sort of ways.

Meng Shi was better now, too, with Sisi by her side: more human, Meng Yao thought, than she’d been in years. Cruelty had driven her to extremes, and it was easy for her to forget the good things that were so few among the bad, but Sisi had been kind to her when there’d been no reason to be, no advantage, and with her around Meng Yao’s mother regained a little of the joy she’d had when she was younger and still hopeful.

Some people still liked to laugh about her background, to talk about how she had been a prostitute (and worse, Jin Guangshan’s prostitute, one he hadn’t even bothered redeeming when it would have been as easy as flipping over his hand, and that in people’s minds made her his trash), but it didn’t seem to bother her as much anymore, even if it bothered the rest of them.

They each reacted to it in their own way: Nie Mingjue with a snarl and an open threat, Meng Yao with a gentle smile backed up with secret vengeance, and Nie Huaisang…well, Nie Huaisang tended to respond aloud.

“At least she could be bought,” he said to one especially arrogant young master, “unlike your mother, who couldn’t sell herself even if she tried – didn’t she have to pay for her husband?”

“Please stop fantasizing like that,” he told another. “It’s really disturbing to hear you lust after my mother so openly – and she so much older than you. Don’t you have any shame?”

“I never knew you were a spendthrift, daozhang,” he said to a rich old sect leader who’d crudely offered a chest of gold for a night with her. “Imagine, spending all that much money on something that you don’t even have the ability to use – what’s even the point?”

Yes, he was growing up quite well, Meng Yao thought, happy and content, and even Nie Mingjue agreed.

Nie Mingjue was growing into himself as well, still (somehow?!) growing taller as time marched on, taller and broader still until he was a bigger man than even his father had been before him. But more important than his size was how it seemed to settle him into himself, the gawky awkwardness of adolescence fading swiftly in the figure of the man he’d become – the figure of the man he was.

Meng Yao had worried, he wouldn’t lie, about how Nie Mingjue, carefree and free-spirited and easily fooled, would handle becoming sect leader, but in the end his worries were for nothing. Nie Mingjue was a good sect leader, just as he was a good man: principled and righteous, thoughtful yet resolute, and surprisingly discerning for someone who still believed Meng Yao without question even after having seen what he did to people who underestimated him.

Though perhaps that was only because it was Meng Yao, who he trusted.

Nie Mingjue was brutally fair, never valued birth over merit, and was as exacting and just as could be hoped for – though Meng Yao liked to think that he and Nie Huaisang were the one glaring blind spot in Nie Mingjue’s harsh rules of righteousness. No matter how strict he was with others, he always spoiled them.

Indeed, spoiling them could be said to be his only hobby.

His father’s murder and eventual death had crushed the more frivolous parts out of him, and the burdens of being sect leader threatened to do the rest – Meng Yao and Nie Huaisang had had to conspire, with great difficulty, to force him to take some time out of his day to continue learning how to forge spiritual weapons, or to paint something other than talisman arrays and battlefield maps, or sometimes even, rarest of all and only on special occasions, to dance in that strange, almost hypnotic way he said was his mother’s.

Nie Mingjue had that classic Nie temper, of course, and he was prone to over-hasty judgments when that temper was roused, most especially when he felt he had been betrayed, but he was also capable of controlling it despite himself, something Lao Nie had struggled with; he was more aware of the consequences of his actions.

Maybe that’s why it came as such as surprise when he nearly destroyed their alliance with the Jin sect over mere words.

It was Meng Yao’s first Discussion Conference that he attended at Nie Mingjue’s side as his advisor, and that had been the problem. Jin Guangshan could just barely resist commenting on Meng Shi when she wasn’t around; with Meng Yao put front and center before him, he hadn’t quite managed to refrain from saying something.

Meng Yao had expected that.

He’d composed himself ahead of time, recited some of the worst things he could think of that could be said; what his father came up with by comparison was positively mild, merely some comment about being surprised that the Nie sect allowed someone like Meng Yao into good company being what he was, and it rolled off his shoulders like water off a duck’s feathers. He could lower his head and let it pass, so as to avoid making himself any more of a burden for his sect than he already was.

He’d somehow forgotten to account for Nie Mingjue’s temper.

He didn’t pull out Baxia, though Meng Yao might have wished he would have – that might have been forgiven in time. Instead, reaching for his tea, he’d only said, as casual as if he were remarking on the weather, “Yes, Meng Yao’s parentage is rather unfortunate, but luckily his mother’s traits dominated.”

Jin Guangshan choked – everyone knew who Meng Yao’s father was, after all – and in that moment of silent stewing rage, Nie Mingjue added, his tone musing, “Perhaps that was why she didn’t get along with my father that well. He could never tolerate being stepped on by anyone.”

Some unfortunate in one of the smaller sects sniggered, perhaps thinking of how clearly Nie Huaisang’s features echoed his brother’s even if they were writ on a smaller and more graceful frame, while Meng Yao’s face could only be considered in very broad strokes to be his father’s, and while they were silenced when Jin Guangshan turned to glare, the damage was done.

(Nie Huaisang had been there, sitting around and looking bored; afterwards, he’d made excuses to leave, and Meng Yao would bet serious money that half the rumors that sprung up afterwards about Jin Guangshan being unable to get it up unless he was being humiliated in bed were from his somehow impossibly dirty-minded little brother. Where he’d even gotten the idea about the one with the shoes, Meng Yao couldn’t even begin to guess…he grew up in a brothel, damnit; a spoiled young master should not have the ability to make him blush for shame!)

“You didn’t have to do that,” Meng Yao scolded him lightly, later. “You know I prefer to be underestimated.”

Nie Mingjue huffed. “I don’t interfere with your business,” he said, and most of the time he didn’t. “Father always said that if people talk about you, it’s your job to do so well that they have nothing to say, and I suppose that must be true –”

It wasn’t, but it was nice enough that Nie Mingjue really thought so that Meng Yao wasn’t going to spoil it for him.

“– but anyway you can’t expect me to leave off when he says something that can be construed as an insult to Huaisang.”

Meng Yao blinked. “To Huaisang? He was talking about me.”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at him. “Meng Yao, you’re brilliant, competent and capable; you would be a shining star in any sect you chose to join. You’re so surpassingly talented that the only negative thing people can think to say about you is that you’re the son of a whore – and what does that make Huaisang?”

A recognized son of a sect leader who wanted him, Meng Yao thought, but oh, Nie Mingjue did make it hard to remain bitter. If they’d met too late, as adults, the Nie Mingjue who only survived his father’s death by shutting down so much of himself would never have presumed to say such things to him – he probably would have thought it, but he would have kept it locked inside, oyster-tight, the way he did most things these days – but Meng Yao had gotten to him early enough that there wasn’t any point in trying to keep things back; they’d long ago passed the point of etiquette.

“I appreciate your defense nonetheless,” Meng Yao said with a faint smile. “And the compliments as well – I always like to be complimented.”

“Forget compliments,” Nie Mingjue said. “Wait for the poaching.”

Meng Yao laughed, but in the end he was the one surprised: a number of sect leaders threw out hooks in his direction, incorrectly thinking that Nie Mingjue’s statement had put Meng Yao down, and most surprising of all was the pointedly casual conversation that a pair of Jin sect retainers had within hearing distance of him, clearly meant to be overheard, that suggested that an application to switch sects might not be met with such a cold reception as he would have otherwise have thought.

How he would be treated once in the sect would be a different matter, of course, but no matter how bad an idea it probably was, Meng Yao couldn’t quite help daydreaming about how it might go.

He’d never be the Jin sect heir, of course – though if he was legitimized, he supposed there was only Jin Zixuan and maybe Jin Zixun between him and the position. Even without that, though, he could shine bright enough to catch everyone’s eye, the way Nie Mingjue had said he could; he could show them all how good he was. He could make Jin Guangshan regret not having taken his mother out of that brothel, not having brought her home as a concubine, not having raised him as his own –

He could have all of Lanling Jin at his fingertips.

Then they got word that Meng Shi had fallen ill, a letter passed in by messenger, and Nie Mingjue immediately started wrapping up his business, giving orders that they would leave by sundown without even considering that finishing up the odds and ends of sect business might be more important than going to sit by the bedside of his father’s concubine, a former prostitute, a woman he had little enough reason to honor.

Meng Yao remembered that all the gold in Lanling was only a façade over their rotten hearts, and that the approval of his father was nothing to him over the well-being of his mother.

(He might have been more insistent if she had died in that brothel, he thought. It was not so hard to become fixated on power and glory when you had none, to feel it was something owed to you, to her, and to see it as a need when it was only a want – but she hadn’t, and he didn’t, and Jin Guangshan with all his riches had done less for them when they needed him than Nie Mingjue had when all he’d had was the trinkets on his body and a fierce determination that his younger brother should be born at home.)

Of course, there was one offer he couldn’t turn down.

Wen Ruohan made an effort to be subtle about it, Meng Yao would give him that much – one couldn’t deny the man was smart, smart and powerful and very good at getting even more powerful, with his only stumbling block being the fact that he was also conceited and thought that no one was as smart as he was.

A meeting was orchestrated to appear as though an accident, a few words exchanged –

Meng Yao smiled at him, letting his eyes show the warmth of future revenge, and Wen Ruohan left, satisfied that Meng Yao secretly wanted dominion but felt it was impossible with how he was situated: neither a true son of Qinghe nor a recognized son of Lanling. A perfect tool, easily understood, and with a convenient lure that was perfectly in line with Wen Ruohan’s own plans for conquering…

Everything was so going well.

Clearly disaster was about to strike, Meng Yao thought gloomily, and braced himself.

And yet, somehow – it didn’t.

Nothing happened except more of the same: Nie Mingjue’s reputation growing in leaps and bounds, winning him the title of Chifeng-zun, and Meng Yao was the shining star by his side, reputed to be clever and talented and behind many of the Nie sect’s political coups. The Wen sect made only small moves, their arrogance growing but only slowly, and despite the anticipation of war in the future, in that blissful window of peace, they were able to watch Nie Huaisang grow up.

Maybe, Meng Yao thought, looking at Nie Huaisang lazing around in the shade shouting encouragement at the men training rather than joining in himself, maybe the world didn’t need two monsters like him.

Maybe he could do it all himself.

[avengerscompound]

The Surrogate - Chapter 9

The Surrogate:  A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count:  1637

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Pregnancy, talk of miscarriage, medical procedures

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.  While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people.  When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want.  Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 9

If you thought that Natasha and Clint were around a lot before you were pregnant, it was nothing compared to after you got that positive test.  The only time at least one of them wasn't there with you was when you were sleeping or at work, and even then, they were often there.

They were being hyper-protective and nagging you a lot about taking your vitamins and not overexerting yourself.  They pushed for a conversation with Steve about changing your work and pulling you off active missions, which, given that your skillset was ‘can’t get killed so use as cannon fodder’, it meant there wasn't a hell of a lot you could do as part of the team.

All of this would have been incredibly annoying except for the fact you really liked having them around.  Even if they were being a little too overprotective.

It was definitely a problem.

On the day of your five-week ultrasound, they were both a couple of bundles of nerves.  Natasha was mostly silent.  Sometimes you could see her worrying at the inside of her cheek and you knew that she was expecting to go in and find that the pregnancy hadn't taken properly after all or worse, that there would be no heartbeat and it would confirm the fact that she'd never get to be a parent.

Clint seemed to be hung up on something quite the opposite.

He paced the ultrasound room as you sat on the chair in your hospital gown waiting for Cynthia the on-site ultrasound technician to come in.  You knew her well, as you did most of the medical team at the compound considering how many tests they'd run on you, not to mention how they'd get you in to donate blood regularly or see if you could help with any injuries they had.

Natasha was sitting on a stool beside your chair and the more Clint paced the tighter the grip got on your hand.

“Oh god,” Clint babbled as he walked.  “What if there's more than one?  How can I be a dad to three kids?  I can barely even look after myself.  I can't take care of three infants too.”

“Clint,” you said, as you watched him turn and pace back again.  “How about you wait and see how many babies there are and then freak out?”

“Right,” he said, and let out a breath.  “Right.  Sorry.”

He took a seat and put his arm around Natasha just after Cynthia came in.  “Hi!”  The bubbly tech said as she came in the door.  “This is exciting, isn't it?  I hardly get any pregnancy stuff here?  It's always x-rays for broken bones.”

She sat down on the stool and began turning various things on and typing into a computer.  “You must be so excited, huh?  Going with surrogacy, this baby is gonna be so loved and wanted.  I bet the others are excited about being aunts and uncles too.”

“Yeah, we’d kinda given up,” Clint said.  He was rubbing Natasha's back in soothing circles as she seemed to almost start turning green.

Cynthia took the controls for the chair you were on and reclined it so you were lying flat on your back with your knees up.  She took the imaging wand from the holster and prepped it.

“It's going to be hard to see them so don't freak out that it might take a little while to find it.  It's just the size of an orange seed,” she said.

“Oh my god,” Clint said.  “So small?”

“Yeah,” Cynthia laughed.  “So be patient. It's like finding an orange seed in a full-grown adult.”  She scooted the chair closer and brought the wand up.  “There will be a pinch,” she warned and pushed the probe inside you.

It pinched as it entered and there was as uncomfortable pressure inside you as she moved the wand around, trying to find the embryo.  Natasha’s hand squeezed harder and harder on yours the longer it took.  And the longer it took to find them the more uncomfortable it got and the harder you squeezed her hand back.

A little black spot appeared in the sea of static gray and inside it was a little circle blob.  “There it is,” Cynthia said.  “One perfectly normal five-week embryo.”

“Where?” Clint asked, narrowing his eyes and peering at the screen.

Cynthia circled the spot on the screen.  “This thing here,” she said.

“That?” Clint said in disbelief.  “How could you even tell?”

“Training mostly,” Cynthia joked. “But I promise, that seed is the very start of a baby.”

“Just one?” Clint asked.

“Let me just do another check,” she said, moving the wand around again. When she seemed happy she focused on the original spot again.  “Just one.”

“And it's fine?” Natasha asked.

“So far so good,” Cynthia said.  “I mean, I'm not a doctor and you’re doctor will be able to tell you more but this is all in the normal regions.  We can take a look again at eight weeks and you’ll be able to see the heartbeat.”

Natasha relaxed and nodded.  “Thank you.”

“Agent Romanoff,” Cynthia said as she pulled out the wand.  “It’s still very early stages, so there are no promises made that this will be a successful pregnancy but if you're ever really panicking, you can just call and I can check on them.  I don't mind.  Even if it's the middle of the night.”

“Really?” Natasha said, even as you internally cursed at the idea of being woken up for an ultrasound at midnight.

“Yeah, if it will put your mind at rest,” she said.  “We can keep a close eye on them.”

“Thank you,” Natasha said earnestly.  “I appreciate that.”

“No problem,” Cynthia said as she started packing up.  “Okay, I'll forward all this on to Martina and she'll get in touch.”

“Can I put clothes on?” You asked, hopefully.

“Sure can,” Cynthia said.  “I hope it was as good for you as it was me.”

You laughed as you got up.  “I mean, I’ve had better,” you teased.  “But I guess I've had worse too.”

“Solid average, right where I was aiming,” Cynthia joked.

You went into the dressing room laughing and got redressed into your uniform.  Cynthia was gone when you returned and Natasha and Clint were waiting expectantly for you.

“So that’s good news,” you said.  “Nat, you get one.  And Clint, you only get one.”

Clint snorted.  “Yeah, that was a relief.  I wonder if it’s a boy or a girl.

“Long time off before you find that out,” you said as the three of you headed out.  “What do you want?”

“Hmm,” Clint mused.  “I don’t even care.  I’m gonna dress them in purple either way.”

“Your brother had red hair right?”  You asked.

“He does,” Clint confirmed.

“Little redhead baby,” you said, running your hand over your stomach.  “Oh imagine if they get the red hair gene and the blue-eyed one.  That’s the rarest one.”

“Then they’ll look like Pepper and Tony will think you had her kid,” Clint joked.

Natasha stopped walking as the two of you were babbling to each other and it took you both a moment to realize that she wasn’t with you anymore.  When you both realized she wasn’t with you, you turned and looked at her.  She was covering her face with her arm.

“Nat, what’s wrong?”  Clint said, going over to her and putting his arm around her shoulders and crouching so he was face to face with her.

She shook her head.  “When you started talking about what they’ll look like, I could picture them.  I want them so bad, Clint,” she said, taking her hand away from her face.  She wasn’t crying but she seemed closed.

Clint pulled her into his arms and held her, looking almost as helpless as she seemed.  It was not at all how you were used to seeing them, but it was getting more and more common as the process progressed.  You hoped by the time the baby was looking like a baby she’d accept it was going to happen for them.

“You’re gonna have that baby in your arms, little redhead with blue eyes.  I promise, Nat,” he soothed.

She hid her face in his chest and breathed him in without saying anything.  He just held her rubbing her back.  You stood there watching them, wanting to leave because this was their moment and despite the fact they were your best friends and you were carrying their baby, this part was private and had nothing to do with you.  Yet at the same time, you wanted to go to them and reassure them.  You wanted to tell them that you knew this was going to work.  You knew for sure.  So you just stood and waited awkwardly for them.

Natasha took a deep breath and pulled back.  “Okay,” she said.  “I’m okay.  Sorry.  This whole thing is so much harder than I expected.”

“Do you regret it?”  Clint asked, his thumb caressing the inside of her wrist.

She shook her head.  “No.”

“Good,” you said.  “‘Cause I’m not raising this baby alone.”

Clint started laughing and draped his arm around Nat’s shoulders.  “I wouldn’t worry about that,” he said.

“Alright, you two,” you said.  “I gotta get back to work.  Filing shit or whatever busy shit Steve’s got me doing.”

“I think I’m gonna go punch some things,” Natasha said with a nod.

“That sounds fun,” Clint said.  “Shall we all meet for lunch?”

“Yeah, the cafeteria at 12.30?” Natasha asked.

“Sounds good,” Clint said and they both looked at you.

You chuckled.  You were theirs for the next 9 months, and you felt that it should annoy you.  It didn’t though.  You just wished it would be for longer.

// NEXT

[alderaani]

hullo pls could you maybe do from the prompt list 'Staying up half the night to finish a game with them.' with jesse? or echo, i love them both very much so whoever you'd rather write would be just fantastic (: 💕

thanks Emma!!!! anything for u 💕 i’m gonna go with jesse for this one, though i’m desperate to write for my boy echo in the near future. (i am very quickly learning i can’t keep these brief to save my life, oops)

pairing is jesse x reader:

“Heard you landed your ass in here again, idiot.”

It comes out harsher than you mean, but the rush of anger-joy-relief that floods through you when you see Jesse propped up in bed, awake and laughing with one of his brothers, is like a battering ram. You put out one hand to steady yourself against the doorframe and blink, startled by the way your eyes are stinging.

“If only he’d actually landed on his ass,” Hardcase laughs. He’s lounging on the end of the bed in the bottom half of his armour, legs crossed in front of him. “Di’kut went down on his head instead.”

“Thanks, ‘Case,” Jesse sighs, before looking at you sheepishly. “I was goin’ to comm you.”

You sniff in distain and push into the room proper. “What, in three to five business days? I had to find out from one of the mechanics, Jesse.”

Jesse scowls and you feel your eyes sting again at just how small he looks against the sheets. The white bandages on his chest and wrapped around his skull are stark against the rich brown of his skin. You don’t think you have really breathed in the last three days, not since contact with Torrent went down and it suddenly hit you that you might never get to speak to him again.

“How is this my fault? I was karking unconscious and you’re going to hold that against me?”

“Well,” Hardcase says, eyes darting between the pair of you. He shoves himself off the bed, clapping a hand on Jesse’s blanketed leg. “Sounds like my cue to check out. The boys are settin’ up a round of sabacc in the barracks, don’t wanna hold ‘em up.”

You wave absently to him as he leaves, not taking your eyes off of Jesse’s as your chest fills with fire. You open your mouth to snap back, but the pure weariness that flashes across Jesse’s face sinks in like a knife between your ribs and suddenly you’re just tired.

You collapse into the vacant chair beside his bed and put your face in your hands.

“Kriff, Jess, I’m sorry.” You huff out a little laugh. “I came here to cheer you up, believe it or not.”

Looking up, you’re in time to see Jesse’s face soften. He reaches out and knocks his fist gently against your temple.

“Bold strategy you’re usin’.”

You swallow tightly and keep your eyes on the blankets when you make your next admission, choking the words out. “I didn’t mean to get mad. You just really fuckin’ scared me this time.”

Jesse chuckles weakly. “Think I scared myself. I…I really thought that was it, for a moment.”

You breathe out, long and slow, and try to push away the could-have-beens. He’s here, he’s whole, and he’s alive. Each one of those things is its own blessing. Some part of you still feels like it’s stuck in the awful silence of your comm station as you typed in code after code and prayed, unable to reach any of them and only being able to think about Jesse. His laugh, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way it makes your stomach tie itself into knots, and the ache in your gut when you thought you’d lost the chance to tell him any of it.

You’re used to being haunted by thoughts of him, but now all your memories have a slightly bitter edge, soured by the possibility that they’d almost been all you had. It’s harder than you expected to let that go, even if you’ve always known you might have to.

“I’m damn glad it wasn’t,” is what you get out eventually. “This place’d be boring without you.”

Jesse quirks a smile. You just want to hold on to him, kiss that smile straight off his stupid face, and can’t bring yourself to care that you’re staring. “Maker, I know, I’m bored already and I’m only stuck in the medbay. What’ve you got for me?”

You reach into the bag at your feet and pull out a card deck and a bottle of blumfruit juice. “I couldn’t bring the boys, but at least I’ve brought the cards, right?”

The way that Jesse’s whole face lights up makes the knot in your chest loosen. You dig around a bit more and pull out Jesse’s razor kit – there’s a fine layer of visible stubble growing on the unbandaged bits of his head. Aside from his huge Republic cog tattoo and the fact the stubble’s dark, he’s starting to look eerily like Rex.

“I thought you might want these tomorrow, too, I cleared them with Coric so I won’t accidentally land you in trouble.”

Jesse tilts his head a little bit and just watches you. You fight the urge to fidget and place the razor kit on the edge of the blanket; it’s hard not to shrug this off like you have a hundred times before, but you made a promise to yourself when you’d heard he’d come back alive. You won’t hide how you feel any more, and he can do what he likes with it. At least you will have given him the choice.

“You went and got these for me?” he asks eventually, his gaze pointed and calculating. You expected it – there’s a reason he’s on the Captain’s core squad – but it still makes you feel naked.

“You always bitch when your hair starts growing in,” You smile. Jesse’s expression clears, but whatever conclusion he’s come to he keeps to himself. He puts the razor on the side table and grins at you.

“The stubble itches. Now are you gonna deal us in, or what?”

You’re halfway through your first hand before you realise something crucial is missing from the set.

“Kriff, I forgot my betting chips! Sorry Jess, I can run back and get them if you like.”

Jesse picks up the bottle of blumfruit juice and gulps a mouthful, his mouth stained slightly red.

“I think I’ve got a better idea. Much more fun if we bet favours, right?”

His expression is far too innocent. You narrow your eyes at him as you accept the bottle and bring it to your lips. “What kind of favours?”

He shrugs. “Just little things. Ship duties, stuff you’ve always wanted to know…that kind of thing. I know you’ve always wanted to get back at Fives for what happened on Orto Plutonia.”

You lick your lips slowly. It’s a tempting proposition, which is dangerous for someone who is so thoroughly shit at sabacc, and for someone who’s opponent knows it.

“…Alright. But we’ve got to agree on the favour before it enters the pool.”

Jesse’s grin is sharklike. “Deal.”

Over the course of the next three hours you lose your mess hall slot, have to tell Jesse the story of how you ended up locked in the communal showers for three hours, and owe him two whole bottles of his favourite Alderaanian spirit.

In return, all you have managed to swindle is that payback on Fives, so when Jesse suggests one more round at 0300, you’re hesitant. You’re pretty sure you’re in love with him, but you still have a little dignity.

“Aw, come on. Where’s the honour in givin’ in?” Jesse grins.

“There’s no honour in marching blindly to defeat, either,” you counter, gathering up the sabacc cards to shuffle anyway. Besides, if you yawn any more you think your soul might escape your body.

“Maybe not, but I think you’ll like what I’ve got in mind.”

His face is oddly serious, and it piques your interest. Before you can stop yourself, you’re nodding and dealing out the cards again, fighting for composure when you lift yours and see the brilliant pair you’ve picked up.

“Fine, one more round. If I win you have to cover my next shift stocking ordnance,” you say quickly.

Jesse swallows, his honey brown eyes boring into you. “Sure. But if I win, I get a kiss.”

Faintly, you think someone must have opened an airlock somewhere, because you can’t breathe. You hear your lungs suck in, see the way Jesse leans a little towards you, the expression on his face almost hungry. There’s a faint ringing in your ears as you nod eagerly, your palms sweating.

What follows is possibly the longest 30 minutes of your life. It figures, really, that the one game of sabacc you desperately want to lose is the one you can’t seem to not win. When the match is up you scowl at the perfect score of 23 in your hand and toss it down onto the bed covers.

“Sorry Jesse, read ‘em and weep. I’ve got pure sabacc.”

Jesse leans over to read, but instead of looking as annoyed as you feel, he just smirks.

“Now now, cyar’ika, don’t be hasty. Let me present to you: the Idiot’s Array.”

You lean forward before you can stop yourself. “No fucking way.”

The rarest hand in the game? You’ve gotta see that.

Jesse smugly spreads out his cards. You smack him. “That’s not the Idiot’s Array!”

“It is too.”

“Then where’s the Idiot Card, genius?”

Without pausing, Jesse lifts his hands and points two thumbs at himself, grinning at you. “Right here, darlin’.”

You laugh, heat creeping up through your cheeks to the tips of your ears. You slide onto the bed and place your palms either side of Jesse’s legs, your pulse thundering under the heat of his eyes.

“Guess I owe you a kiss, then.”

Jesse’s hand sneaks up to cup the back of your neck. “Yeah. Guess you do.”

[crystalelemental]

Which Cynthia sync pair is the best, the one with Giritina, Kommo-o or Garchomp?

I'd kinda argue Garchomp entirely based on scarcity. Ground-type damage is pretty much monopolized by her an Maxie, and while Maxie is objectively way better in just about every way that matters, Cynthia seems to get rerun at least twice a year and thus is more available. Not to mention, while there are no good Ground-type damage dealers outside of limited events, there are plenty of decent dragons. The Zinnias, Lisia, Cyrus, even Iris and Clair to an extent. So base Cynthia definitely has the edge in being unique. She also has her support in Acerola. While Ingo is far and away the better option (and part of an upcoming Select Scout for like 5k paid gems, wink wink to my fellow spenders), the fact that Cynthia&Garchomp can perform with a single F2P unit and cover the rarest offensive typing alongside Poison is a huge deal.

But Dragon Zone. If you pull Lucas, and have someone who can reasonably support SS Cynthia, I feel like Kommo-o is likely just...better. I don't know that for sure, but I'd guess it's the case. Terrain/Weather/Zones are absurdly strong, and I'm going to butcher this but I'll try to explain: apparently the difference is being additive or multiplicative. Base Cynthia's weather bonuses are additive, while Dragon Zone is multiplicative. Functionally, this means that if you're dealing let's say 10k in one shot, base cynthia gets 50% from her Surging Sand, and SS Cynthia gets 50% from dragon zone, putting both at 15k. But let's say there's a sync buff in play. A sync buff is 50% as well. That puts base Cynthia at 20k (10k +5k +5k), while it puts SS Cynthia at 22.5k ((10k +5k) *1.5). The zones/weather/terrain is always a better buff factor than just the skill effects because of these shenanigans, so I definitely think that SS Cynthia is the generally better performer for raw damage numbers.

They're close on balance at the moment though. I really think the big dividing factor is just...the rarity of Ground-type damage. When/If they release Bertha (they should, like tomorrow), if she's general pool and functions at all like SS Erika, base Cynthia will likely be out of a job forever. So while at present I want to give base Cynthia more value due to Ground-type damage being so goddamn rare, she's also the one more likely to just get completely outclassed as time moves on.

[flying-nightwing]

Pink and Totalitarianism Always Go Hand in Hand

Here’s the promised crack fic. Disclaimer, this is terrible in every and any form, because it is meant to be that way. If you want quality, structure, a story that makes sense, this ain’t it chief. This is certified Crack. If you finish this and all you can say is something along the lines of “what the fuck”, my work here is done. (Besides, this isn’t edited to add to the overall crack vibe)

Enjoy and good luck, because it get worse and worse as it goes

Masterlist in bio // pinned post

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Word count: 4626

Warnings: Mention of drugs, light non-graphic violence, language

Summary: You’re stuck in a world that does not make sense, alone and surrounded by secret police and spies that will report you to the government. One early morning, Jason appears in your living room. His arrival gives you an opportunity to get the hell out of there for good. 

You had taken a habit of sleeping lightly.

You, who had once cherished your sleep like it was the rarest gem in the world. Yet, you found out you had still severely underappreciated its importance in your life, something you realized only when it was gone. You missed it like an old friend who was gone to war and died on the front, leaving words forever unsaid. What would you do for just one more night in your bed, with your own pillows and that drool stain that just wouldn’t leave anymore, sleeping like a log until the late morning. Or just a nap, that even would be enough. But you were far from home now, and you didn’t have a lot of hope you’d ever come back. 

When you heard a loud thump in the living room, your eyes flew open and your muscles tensed. Pushing off the pink comforter and pulling on the equally pink robe that was draped over the wooden chair, you carefully made your way down the corridor and toward the sound. A man dressed in black and red, with a red helmet complementing his strange outfit was standing there, looking around like he was trying to understand what was going on. You plastered a smile on your face. 

“Hiya there” The corner of your mouth hurt from the strain of smiling so wide. “Can I help you?”

“Uh?” He looked up, and even through his helmet you could assume his eyes were wide with confusion. They wouldn’t get you this time, you’d make sure of it. He didn’t fool anyone. “Where am I?”

“Silly!” You laughed, waving your hand in a small dismissive gesture. “We’re in Happy Town, obviously!”

“Uh?” He repeated, already visibly exhausted. That one agent lasted longer than the last, you had to give him that. His confusion was credible and well played down to the last detail. “Listen, lady, I’m sorry I crashed your house but I need you to point me toward Metropolis”

“Metropolis? I haven’t heard of a city of that name” You didn’t drop the smile. The goddamn smile. “Although, you are quite illegal sir, black and red are prohibited colors”

“... What?” 

“I’m afraid you’ll need to change” You explained. “Luckily for you, I have spares in the bedroom. Come along”

“Wait, prohibited?” He repeated, and you nodded eagerly. A test, it’s always a test. “What colors aren’t prohibited then?”

“Well, pink, you silly goose!”

He stared at you for the longest time. “What the fuck”

You froze. Actual agents were not allowed to swear, under any circumstances. They were physically not able to, even. “What did you say?”

“I said what the fuck”

You let your smile drop and sighed in relief. “Oh thank fuck”

“Hey, stay with me” He waved a hand in your face. “What the fuck is going on? Where am I?”

“Okay, we don’t have a lot of time, but basically” You paused, looking around to make sure all of your curtains were closed. You found a way to disable your microphones, but you had only to sunrise before they turned back on again. It was less suspicious that way, when you could attribute the lack of sound to you sleeping. Besides, you couldn’t risk you saying incriminating things in your sleep. “We are in a side dimension called Happy Town, but things are sketchy here. I don’t know what they are hiding, but if you don’t stick to their gimmick to the letter, you’re going to reeducation camps and stuff. This is some serious brainwashing, and I’m talking worse than Scientology”

“Fuck” He swore, taking off his helmet. “How did I get here?”

“Some portal, I dropped in the same place you did” You spoke quickly, in a hushed tone. “I haven’t found a way out, obviously, but if you came from Earth too, I’m betting there’s something I missed”

“This is insane” 

“You tell me” You scoffed. “And you haven’t even seen how bonkers this place really is yet”

“Do I really have to wear pink?” He flinched, and your eyes widened.

“Yes, you do!” You replied. “They will have you under scrutinization as soon as you step out of this house. If you want to survive, you must follow the rules to the letter. They don’t fuck around, I tell ya. When I first appeared, all the neighbors moved away and were immediately replaced by other creepier neighbors. I swear they’re spies. They’re all spies!”

“Wait, how long have you been there?”

“I don’t know, years?” You guessed. Could have been any measure of time really, you couldn’t know for sure. “I have no idea how I got through their brainwashing sessions. Either I outsmarted them, or they have no idea what they’re doing. It’s better not to take any chance, though”

“This is fucked up” He sighed and sat on the couch. “Besides wearing pink, what do I have to do?”

“Oh boy, sit tight” You began pacing in front of him. You didn’t know him, but he was your best chance at getting the hell out of here. Your bed now seemed a little bit closer now, even though you knew you’d never sleep the same. “It’s not just the clothing that’s pink, it’s any fabric, by the way, because happy people like pink”

It was like he was now aware that every couch, chair, carpet, curtain in your house was actually pink. 

“You gotta smile, always. You gotta look like chuck-e-cheese on crack” You continued, pacing in front of him. “Talking of which, never, EVER eat pie. I don’t know what’s in it, but it messes with your brain. Always find an excuse or distraction to avoid eating it”

“I’m not--”

“Never allude to the microphones you might find, act like you’ve never seen them and have no idea they’re there” You added. “Also, tomorrow we’ll have to get you registered if we don’t want the secret police to storm the house. You’ll have to follow my lead or we’re both dead, got it?”

“Yeah but--”

“Don’t say anything incriminating during the day” You interrupted him again. “I tweaked the microphones so they’re scrambled from midnight to sunrise. But that’s it. Also, always assume anyone you talk to is a spy or a snitch. It’s the Stasi all over again here, you can’t trust anyone who you don’t hear swear, which is nobody”

“Wai wait” He stopped you as you opened your mouth to continue on. “Why?”

“Because the people from here cannot swear, happy people don’t swear, they smile and giggle” You felt your eye twitch as you recited the lines you were fed over and over again. “The people engineered here are not able to, only those they kidnapped from Earth. Bad news is, beside that, they are virtually non-differentiable from each other. And they all wear those stupid pink clothes, only the regular police wears a darked shade of magenta. Other than that, all the same”

Confusion and horror was evident on his face. He sat there, processing it all as your eyes fell on the clock. You had about ten minutes until the first rays of sun showed up and reactivated the mics. “There’s no way back?” He finally asked.

“Not that I know of yet” You wrapped your hands around yourself. “You know, I have been begging for help out of this hell hole. You might be the key. Anyway, we gotta change you into something non offensive before they find out you’re here”

You dragged him in the bedroom, leaving him at the threshold while you rummaged through the dresser. All those clothes had been there too when you popped in the house, as if they had known exactly what they were doing by bringing you here. However, it wasn’t clear whether or not they had planned for their new citizen to be you. Ad judging by the arsenal of weapons on the new guy, ir reinforced your theory that the actual selection was still experimental. You weren’t exactly the shut up and obey type, and you doubted he was either.

“What’s your name?” You asked as you pulled a pink cardigan out of a drawer. It occured to you that you might have to know what to call him. Polite people knew the name of their housemate. You grabbed a yet again pink pair of slacks and pushed the clothes in his hands.

“Uh, Jason” He replied, surprised at the sudden income of pink fabric. You threw him the socks, suspenders, bow tie, belt and dress shirt that was, you guessed it, the exact same color as the rest. He was covered in pink clothes like a coat hanger.

“(Y/N)”

“Hey, I’m not wearing that” He objected as he took a better look at the clothes. His face turned to disdain as he shook his head like he had drank bad milk. “Nope, no way”

“If you don’t wear pink, they’ll kill you” You said through your teeth.

“No, I’m not talking about the pink” He said, his expression unchanging. He pulled the cardigan and held it up. “This. This won’t do at all. I’m not wearing a fucking cardigan”

You stared at him, wide eyed. You didn’t have the time to deal with that, sunrise was a few minutes away!

“You will wear that cardigan or so help me” You said in a low, yet threatening voice. He recoiled. “Suck. It. Up.”

Wordlessly, he headed for the bathroom on the other side of the bedroom. He changed in two minutes, coming back awkwardly with his pile of dark clothes. You picked them from him and walked to that spot just beside your bed, and kneeled. You unscrewed the floor board, which was already loose, and you deposited the bundle, weapons and all, next to a very, very dusty blue jeans and burgundy coat. You hurried to replace everything like it hadn’t been touched and stood up again to face an all pink, visibly uncomfortable Jason. He was tying his bow, a displeased frown on his face. It made you wonder what was his life before. He changed rather quickly, and didn’t seem confused by the way bow ties worked.

“What now?”

“We gel your hair”

“No” His eyes widened. The wake up siren sounded outside, and like a reflex learned through violent lessons, your face pulled into a pained smile. You still made a zipping motion over your mouth, pointing to the bathroom. With a silent sigh, he complied.

---

His smile looked unnatural.

But again, so did yours probably. So did everyone’s. Smiling that much wasn’t natural for anyone or anything but perhaps a hyena. Or a clown. You walked arms in arms with him, waving at people sending you curious glances, their smiles unwavering. The government was already aware of this presence, either because they zapped him there or because they heard your made up meeting conversation through the microphones. 

“Okay, I see what you meant by everyone is a spy” He muttered through his teeth, making sure his lips weren’t moving. He was holding to his grin like it was a lifeline. And it was. 

“Right?” You replied in the same manner. “So don’t slip”

“I won’t”

“Well hello there!”

You jumped in surprise at the Mayor appearing in front of you, seemingly out of nowhere. You put your free hand on your heart and laughed. “Hi there, you startled me good!”

He laughed. Jason laughed. It all seemed forced. 

“I see we have an addition in Happy Town!” The mayor pointed to Jason, nodding in approval at his attire. “Where did you come from?”

His first test.

“I… Came from Earth!” He replied with enthusiasm. “Although I have to say, I looooove this place. It’s so… Happy!”

Well played, Jason. Well played.

“I am so glad to hear you say that” He placed a “friendly” pat on his shoulder, but he seemed satisfied. “What is your name, lad?”

“Dick Grayson, sir” 

You swallowed back your confusion at his words, but also at the hint of genuine smile that crossed his expression. Keep smiling.

“Well Mr. Grayson, welcome to Happy Town!” They shook hands. “I see Miss (Y/N) is already taking care of you, integrating you nicely in our community”

His gaze shifted to you as a silent warning behind those cold, smiling eyes. You had your fair history of problems with them, but they had every reason to think it was over now. Still, the warning lingered. But those pink assholes wouldn’t catch you this time.

“I’ll make sure he becomes one of us in no time!” You assured, giving a light nod to Jason.

“No doubt you’ll make an amazing couple” He tipped his pink hat and you noticed Jason held back a cough of surprise. “The daily play of the anthem is about to start, I must return to city hall. I’ll see you around!”

He waved. You waved. Jason waved. He walked away with a skip in his step like the happy jerk he was.

“Couple?” He said, coming back to your public mode of communicating. 

“Sorry, I should have warned you” You sighed internally.

“Sorry?”

“Yeah!” You wanted to burst out so bad. “What about it, Dick Grayson?”

“I wasn’t about to give them my real name” He defended, watching around for people noticing your hushed conversation. But everybody was preparing for the anthem, their attention directed to the morning messages man on the giant screens.

“So you gave that poor guy’s instead?”

“Poor? Nah. Relax, he can take care of himself” What you were sure was a chuckle escaped his lips. “Besides, he’s not even--”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please rise for our national anthem”

You elbowed Jason and stood up straight, the sun hitting the side of your face. He mimicked your posture. The music started, and you could see faltering in the corner of your eye.

“Is this--”

“Yes”

“What the fuck”

“I know”

“Whyyyyyyy”

“Stay with me” You urged silently. You really didn’t know how or why Happy Town’s anthem came to be ‘Yeah!’ by Usher feat Lil Jon and Ludacris, but even if you did, now was not the ideal time or place to get into that kind of discussion. You suspected it had something to do with the exclamation mark after the ‘yeah’. But you could be wrong. You still didn’t understand the bigger picture however, since the lyrics clearly contained the word ‘not’ followed directly by ‘happy’ in the first verse, which made ‘not happy’. It was against the party line. 

“Okay, we stage a coup tonight” He decided as the song ended. “I don’t think I can do this another day”

----

Midnight came slowly.

After a day of mingling and presenting Jason as Dick Grayson and your future husband like the Mayor had most probably hinted at during your morning encounter, of slyly getting out of eating pie and avoiding the police, you were glad to finally breathe. 

“UUUUGH” Jason whined, plopping on the couch. “I can never look at the color pink the same way ever again. I’m sick of it, sick of it!”

“Get it together!” You snapped. “We need to plan our coup. We’ve got one shot for it, and if it fails we’re toast. I need my bed, Jason. MY BED”

“Alright, what do you have in mind?” He asked, taking a deep breath. “You know this place more than I do”

“I say tomorrow night, we quietly follow the police after their curfew patrol round” You began, biting the skin around your nails. “How good is your stealth?”

He looked at you blankly for a good ten seconds before he let out a small, ironic snort. “Above average, I’d say”

It was like he wanted you to ask why he’d think that, but you were too busy thinking about your plan. “Good, good” You nodded. “There must be some headquarters somewhere. All we have to do is get there, threaten them at gunpoint--Your guns are functional yes?”

“Obviously”

“--So they’ll zap us back to Earth. And if not, we shoot the mayor and take control of this hell”

“That escalated quickly,” He stated. “But what the hell, sure, I’m on board. Let’s go”

“Tomorrow the sun sets at 8:07. We’ll need to be changed and ready to go by then”

“Wait, tomorrow?” He sprung up in his seat, eyes wide. “No, no. I can’t take one more day of pink cardigans and pleasant conversations with spies!”

“DEAL WITH IT” You gestured wildly before calming down almost instantly. You didn’t need the neighbors to hear and report a fight. “Patrol is already over for today. Be smart about this”

“Fine” He sighed aggressively. “But if this flops, I’m taking everyone down with me. There won’t be an after tomorrow, I can fucking tell you”

“Yeah I won’t stop you”

“Good”

“Good.”

You stayed there in silence, unmoving for a moment. This was it. The moment you’ve been waiting for. Your liberation. Your bed was less than 24 hours a day if things went as planned, which you hoped it would. 

“I’ll… Sleep on the couch” He mumbled after a while, moving to lay down. YOur eyes widened.

“You can’t” You objected, knowing the government would find a way to find out the scam you were running through that detail. 

“Why not?”

“If the secret police comes for a surprise inspection and your side of the bed is cold, we’re kaputt” You explained. “We’re supposed to be at the very least fiancés, remember?”

“God fucking dammit” He swore, looking up at the sky like it would help him. Ha, you already tried that and it didn’t work.

---

The next day, as you prepared the decaf pot of coffee because happy people didn’t need caffeine to be happy, a knock sounded on your door. Jason was taking a shower in the bathroom, so you went and opened the door. Like you had predicted, two men in dark magenta stood at your doorstep with dangerous looking smiles. 

“Good morning ma’am” One greeted with a tip of his hat. “This is a surprise inspection, warranted by the new arrivant in your household, name Dick Grayson and title husband to be. May we come in?”

Your smile widened as you stepped aside, like you actually had a choice in the matter.

“Of course!” You exclaimed. “Coffee, officers?”

“We’ll have to politely decline, thank you” The other smiled as they came in and observed the clean state of the house. All houses were required to be neat and clean at all times. They looked around for something out of place, slowly but surely directing themselves to the bedroom at the end of the hall. You followed them a few paces away, ready to answer their question if they had some. It wasn’t your first surprise check. 

They finally reached the room, from where they could hear the shower running. Their gazes caught the neatly folded pink pile on the bed, then they surrounded it. They started to feel under the comforter and drapes, on the pillows, everywhere they could spot the presence or absence of another person. You called it, oh you so called it.

The shower stopped, and both officers shared a look. “Alright, everything is in order ma’am. Have a good breakfast and a good day!”

You escorted them to the door, threw them a thank you on the way and silently sighed once the door closed behind them. You returned to your coffee, and not long after, Jason emerged from the hallway all dressed in pink.

“Ooh, who were the gentlemen here?” He inquired cheerily, but you knew what it meant. 

“Some nice officers came to see if we were doing fine here!” You replied with equal cheer.

“Shucks, I missed them” He snapped his fingers, chuckling. “Next time perhaps”

“Of course!” The pep in your voice did not match your eye roll. Thank god there were no cameras. 

You finished breakfast and went to town once again, like you did everyday. You felt like everyone was staring at you even more than usual. Like they all knew what you planned for that night. You might have been slightly paranoid, but Jason’s calm demeanor was helping. He was good at that, like he had practiced for all of his life to deceive people.

The mayor bothered you again after the daily play of the anthem, a song you were sure would elicit a violent reaction from you once you would be back in the real world. Then, you repeated the same daily routine you had had forever. Smile, avoid the pie, smile, talk with the neighbors-spies, smile, think about how life is amazing, smile.

Smile smile smile smile smile smile. 

Eurgh.

That night, the pleasant conversations contained codes to trump the microphones. Jason pretended to dance while you unscrewed the loose floorboard and carefully placed his clothes and weapons on the bed. You picked your old clothes, quietly dusting them off. They smelled weird but you were excited to wear something other than pepto bismol dyed fabric. Making sure the curtains were drawn, you proceeded to change. Jason looked ecstatic to finally be rid of his cardigan, while you took a moment to appreciate your black t-shirt and burgundy coat. While he had his red helmet, he handed you a domino mask from his pocket. You had no idea why he had that, but you took it anyway. It looked cool and rebel. You sneaked through the back door, avoiding the spots of light by either lamps outside your house and street posts. You watched the patrol casually making sure everyone was inside, keeping a good distance in between you and them at every time. They weren’t talking, but whistling some creepy tunes. You had to make a small hike through a hill when they entered a gated tunnel, but you ended up in front of a giant factory where workers dressed in grey buzzed around with crates. YOu gasped.

“Illegal” You muttered.

“What?”

You shook your head. They had gotten to you too much, it was time you left that god forsaken place. “Nevermind. How do we go through that barbed wire?”

He pulled out a medium sized pair of cutters from… You had no idea where, but he had them. You shrugged, gesturing to him to go ahead. In a blink, you were in. You sneaked inside without being seen, navigating the building with guesses and feelings. You finally ended up in the main production room, where crates of products were opened and emptied in a giant bassin. The stirred liquid was purple and smelled strange, but you knew it was to do no good. And right beside, there was the pie filling packaging. 

“I knew it!” You hissed under your breath. “They’re putting drugs in the pie! Can you see what it is? Cocaine? Heroin?

“Doesn’t seem like…” He leaned in. “Wait…”

“Al-- Allegra?” You managed to read the crate.”Never heard of it, but it must be terrible and dangerous”

Jason turned his head and stared at you. HIs helmet bore no expression, but you were sure he looked at you like you were dumb. Did he know what it was? “Are you kidding me?”

“No, why?”

“Allegra is--” He sighed. “It’s allergy medication. It’s… Not drugs per say”

“Uh?”

“God dammit--” He paused as something caught his eyes. It was sparkly, and unfit for this environment. From it emerged five armed guys dressed in earth clothes. They had a bag of white substance, which was tasted by the man who welcomed them. “Of fuck, THAT’s cocaine” 

You waited as they put some of it in a vial, which already had purple liquid. 

“Fuck, they mix it with allegra?” He cursed, mostly to himself. “What kind of fucking insane dimension did I step in?” 

“I told you”

“Okay, so those guys will have to leave eventually” Jason pointed at the visibly Earth humans. “We’ll make sure we catch it as well”

“But they have machine guns” You pointed out, not sure how his mind worked. 

“Wait for my signal” You knew he was grinning under that helmet. Before you could ask him how the fuck he would manage five armed guys, he jumped over the rail and started running toward them. You shut your eyes shut as gunshots went off, then opened them again when it was silent. There were bodies around, but Jason was still standing, wrestling with two guys. You watched for a few seconds when you noticed a pink figure sneakily approaching from behind, a frying pan in his hand.

The mayor!

You jumped over the rail too, but your landing was way less graceful than Jason’s. Actually, you were pretty sure you sprained your ankle. But still, you ran-limped to the man and jumped on his back before he could bonk Jason’s head with his weapon.

“ARRRRRGH”

He did not see you coming, as he lost balance at your attack. You crashed on the ground, where you managed to get on top and start hitting him. But apparently neither of you knew how to punch, so it was a rather pathetic looking fight. You swapped and slapped, pulled hair and scratched, until you got a hold of his pan and made a pancake of his face. 

“Take that you pink fucking nightmare” You spat as you stood up. You turned to Jason, whose shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.

“Wow uh” He covered it with a cough. “That sure was an interesting fight to watch”

“Keep mocking me, mister fucking assassin” You rolled your eyes. “I stopped him from bonking your head”

“Alright, alright, thank you”

“No problem” You replied. “Let’s get out of here”

You went and stood on the platform the dealers came through, then waited. But nothing happened.

“I think we need to activate it” He spoke up. That was logical.

You scanned the room for a panel control, and you believed you spotted it on the opposite wall. You grabbed your shoe to throw at it, before Jason held back your arm’s motion.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Activating the portal” You furrowed your brows, pointing at the panel. A big red button on which was written ‘ON’ was glaring at you from the distance. Practical target.

“Don’t throw your shoe, that’s dumb” He snorted. “Let me”

Before you could argue, he cocked his gun and fired a bullet right on the button. A death sound resonated, but nevertheless sparks began to fly and not just from the ruined panel. The portal opened and swallowed you, sending you through flashes and weird colors until you were spat out in a dull, dark place that smelled bad. Jason seemed to have landed just fine, but you were another story. You pulled yourself up, whining at the pain in your ankle. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here”

A creepy, unknown voice made you both turn around. It was a pale man with an unnaturally stretched smile and bad taste in clothes, and right away it made you think the worst. You had been thrown in Dark!Happy Town. Without thinking, you let out a war cry and hurled your frying pan to the more evil version of the Mayor, knocking him out instantly.

What you didn’t expect though, was the roaring laughter from beside you. 

“Oh--Oh my god” He could barely talk. “I wished I filmed that”

“What? What’s happening?” You asked. Had he gone crazy? “Who’s that? We’re not back home are we?”

“Relax, we’re back” He took a deep breath, his shoulders still shaking. “You’ve just knocked out the most wanted criminal in Gotham city”

“WHAT?”

“Welcome back, (Y/N), welcome back”