#the complaints about this being ooc seemed stupid at the time

[llycaons]

oh my god, this file of the episode I legally downloaded doesn't have the tw at the beginning, but this is the one where lestat attacks louis

I remember being so horrified on my first few watches, and now I'm less shocked and more just tremendously sad. claudia and louis are trying to protect each other so much - louis acting as a parent, too. but it's all in vain. lestat does whatever he wants. claudia is horror-stricken and terrified and desperate and powerless. louis is trying to reassure and comfort. and lestat is saying all these nonsense lines about not wanting to fight and being SO restrained. and the sad violin music makes this less a heart-pounding action sequence a more an unfolding of a deeply poignant, though violent tragedy. I'm choking back tears. this is hard to watch

and this ending song....what a gut punch. evil choice on the production's end

[sexlapis]

✧. ┊  5 TIMES YOU SAT ON NANAMI’S LAP

── .✦ nanami kento x gn!reader

s4w, fluff, cuddling, teasing, petnames, hand feeding, ooc nanami, sitting on nanami’s lap

⤷ nanami’s lap is your favourite seat. luckily for you, he is fine with being your…chair.

based off this post

a/n: #needthat #wantthat #sexyman #hotguy

[_____] = your name

masterlists

*

1 - NAP TIME

The rain droplets pelleting on the living room windows is what wakes you up, along with the deep chuckle of thunder that follows shortly afterwards.

One second it was all sunny with bright skies and now, it is dim and dark, and the only light in the room emanates from the television.

You do not remember putting this show on. You don’t remember falling asleep on the couch, either.

“Oh, look who’s awake.”

You sit up and there Nanami is, sitting opposite you on the couch, in his comfortable loungewear.

“Hey, I was watching that…” You mumble tiredly. A yawn escapes you. You rub your eyes.

“You were asleep when I came back, you know.”

“Yeah but…” you trail off. “When did you even come back?”

“An hour ago. I was excited to get my ‘welcome home’ kiss but instead, here you were; fast asleep and snoring like a bear.”

“I do not snore like a bear!”

Nanami grins and rests his back on the couch. “Don’t I get my kiss now?”

“…You called me a bear.”

“No, I said you sounded-“”

“Yeah, whatever, that’s the same thing.”

“Well, not r-“”

He’s interrupted by your unexpected crawl across the couch and sitting in his lap, covering the both of you with a blanket.

You rest your head on his shoulder.

“Do i still get my kiss-“”

“Oh shut up.”

2 - OFFICE HOURS

A knock on his door shocks Nanami out of his focus. “Come in.”

His office door opens and you appear, wearing your baggy pyjamas and dragging a blanket across the floor.

“_____…I’ve told you that you don’t need to knock. You’re the only other person who lives here.”

“Yeah, but it seems rude to just barge in so…” you waddle towards his desk where he sits, papers scattered all over his desk, “What are you doing?”

“Just some paperwork. Nothing interesting.”

“Yes, I know that part.” You respond to his last two words. “There’s a calculator…”

He lets out an amused huff. “What brings you here then?”

You shrug. “‘M bored…wanted to see what you were doing.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think my paperwork will entertain you very much, baby.”

“Well…” You start. “I’m not exactly here for the paperwork…”

You’re now stood right beside Nanami and you peek at his empty lap.

Nanami notices. Nanami sighs.

He tucks out of his desk, just enough for his lap to be shown, and he only has to pat his thighs twice before your hopping right into it.

“Comfortable?” You shuffle in his lap, looking for the right position. It’s found, and you lean back to rest your back against his wide chest, blanket covering you legs.

“Yeah, I’m comfy.”

Nanami kisses your temple, and goes back to completing his work, which lulls you to sleep due to how absolutely boring it is.

3 - OVERTIME

Nanami heard keys fiddling with the door while he is on his laptop in the kitchen. He hears a loud, annoyed groan.

Must have been a long day for you.

Shoes are thrown onto the floor, along with your bag and your coat is flung onto the rack.

You trod to the doorway of the living room and Nanami’s sees how tired and disheveled you look.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You only respond with a grumble.

“Hard day?”

Another grumble from you.

“Do you want to tell me all about it?”

A jumpy grumble clambers out of your mouth as you dash over to him and plop down on his inviting lap.

“Ugh, Kenny…these people…”

He rubs circles on you back, gently coaxing the complaints out of you.

“They’re so…they’re just so stupid.”

Nanami can’t help but chuckle at your bluntness and your genuine sadness at your coworkers’s stupidity.

“Seriously, they are! And don’t even get me started on that damn boss.”

So Nanami listens to you rant about your dumb coworkers while he just relishes in having you sit in his lap.

4 - GATHERINGS

On the rare occasion that you and Nanami organise a friend and family gathering, this time in the form of a barbecue, it is a success.

More people than you were both expecting showed up and your backyard was filled with music, friends, family members, chatter, kids running around and the smell of mouth-watering, flavourful meat.

The gathering lasts from noon until late evening, at which most people have left and the only ones who still lingered were close friends.

“Kento.” You walked up to where he sat on the outdoor couch, speaking to one of his work colleagues whose name you have forgotten. Something beginning with a ‘H’, you think?

“Hey, sweetheart.” He pauses his conversation to talk to you. “Are you tired?”

You were tired. You had been preparing the food, offering the food, playing with the kids, speaking to guests and now you feel the weight of all your hard work.

“I did not expect that many people to show up…”

“No, me neither. You did a great job, baby.” He huffs with a shake of his head. He then spreads his legs, more than they already are. “Do you want to rest?”

You are in in lap before he even finishes his sentence. Seriously, he does not finish his sentence.

He smiles at your urgency, admiring how cute you look curled up in his lap, your cheek squished up against his chest.

He takes a knitted blanket and throws it over your body, protecting you from the slight chill in the night air.

Nanami continues to speak to his friend, quieter now that you’re here, and caresses the back of your neck.

5 - MORNING BREAKFAST

“Kento, I’m- what’s all this?”

After spending a short time searching for Nanami, you find him outside in your colourful, shared garden. He sits on the garden chair, and on the medium-sized round table is a well prepared, delectable breakfast.

“Hm? Oh. This is breakfast.”

“Breakfast? But Kenny, I-“” You look down at your phone, checking the time, “I have to get to work-“”

“Call in late.”

You frown. “But-“”

“It’s such a nice morning, isn’t it?” He looks to the sky, taking a sip of his tea before looking at you. “Spend it with me.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

It was warm outside with beams of sunlight peaking through the gaps of the blooming blossom tree Nanami is stationed under. A gentle breeze curled through the air, the harmonic birdsong twinkled in your ears and the aroma of sweet-scented pastries wafted under your nose.

It did not take much to convince you.

“Okay. I’ll stay, but remind me to leave in thirty minutes.”

Nanami exhales and smiles, all soft and tender. “I’m glad. Come here, take a seat.”

Your stomach rumbles as you walk to sit in the garden chair opposite Nanami. He stops you.

“Where are you going?”

“Uhm…to sit down?”

“Oh, no, no…come sit on Kento’s lap, sweetheart. I want you to try this danish pastry,” he breaks off a piece so you can have some, “it’s my mother’s recipe.”

Ignoring your heart skipping a beat at how he referred to himself, you sit on his thigh, and he wraps an arm around your hip. He holds the piece of pastry to your mouth.

“Try a piece.”

You open your mouth and allow him to place it on you tongue, you lips briefly touching his fingertips. You laugh a little, flustered as you chew on the sweet treat. He licks his fingertip, the same one your lips touched.

“Do you like it?”

“Hmm! It’s very sweet!” You are glad you said yes to this. Work could handle you being a little late.

“Good.” Nanami shuffles forward in his chair, bringing you closer to the table of food. He kisses your shoulder and runs his hands up and down your waist. “Come on, eat up. You have a long day ahead of you.”

Nanami did not remind you to leave in those thirty minutes.

*

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

[starrystormwritings]

Approval

Approval

Master List <3 Request list <3 Marauders Master List

Regulus Black x Slytherin! Potter! Reader

A/n: This had no plot as I began writing it I had no idea what I was doing and just winged it. I'm desperately looking for requests because I have no ideas at the moment lol. Anyway this is my first time writing anything Harry Potter/ Marauders so if anything is ooc let me know and bare with me <3

Summery: You and Regulus have been keeping your relationship secret from fear of your brother and his friends approval.

Warnings: Swearing, judgment, a little ooc (James and Sirius come across kind of mean I cant lie), reader is James's sister but no mention of their parents or appearance so you can imagine being adopted.

Word Count: 2367

(NOT MY GIF)

"Hey guys!" I said with a smile, taking a seat next to my brother and his friends at the Gryffindor table for breakfast.

"Why were you talking to him?" James asked me with a frown, my brother has forever hated the Slytherin house and as much as I can't blame him when I see the way that some of them act I also feel as if I need to defend them, seeming as it is my house.

James was devastated when the sorting hat placed me in Slytherin.

He spent weeks arguing with Professor Mcgonigal about how it was wrong and how I needed a do over because there is no way his 'good hearted and kind little sister could be one of those snakes'

I'd be lying if I said it didn't sting a little, I fit in with the other Slytherins in my year and made friends easily. I stayed away from the ones who shared the likes and opinions of people like Snape because I couldn't bring myself to be friends with people with such hurtful and outdated views.

But a lot of the people I met were nice and friendly.

But James would refuse to ever see that.

"I was taking to him because he's my friend, and we were walking to breakfast together." I said with a roll of my eyes, leaning over to grab myself some food.

"You are not friends with that snake." James said with a look of disgust.

He went to continue his complaints but Sirius cut him off.

"Evan Rosier is one of my brothers friends. Stay away from him." He said with a frown glaring over at the Slytherin table over my shoulder.

"Well even though he is your brothers friend he's also mine. I know shocking crossover for you. He's a nice guy, we do potions study sessions together and he's helped me with charms. He's a nice enough guy." I shook my head at Sirius with a frown, fed up of having the same conversation again and again.

"He's a pure blood Y/n." James said with a frown.

"And so are we, and Sirius." I said with a chuckle, looking to Remus for help but he just looked straight back down at his book.

"Yeah but we're not like them. They're mean and well snakes." James said, trying to keep his voice down despite his growing annoyance.

"They're family's made them like that. Not everyone could get away like Sirius luckily did. Evans a nice enough guy, and if he wasn't you know I'd stop talking to him."

"Yeah but-" James started before I cut him off.

"Remus help me here please." I sighed looking over at Remus pleadingly as he gave me a 'keep me out of this' look.

"Guys leave her alone, she can be friends with who she wants to be." He offered me a small smile before looking back down at his book "Now leave me out of this I'm trying to study."

"Fine fine. Anyway do you guys want to head to the library to pull a prank, I was thinking we could hex the books to make them scream if you fold the paper. Will probably make some people jump out of their skin." James said with a laugh, elbowing Sirius to hype him up about this stupid idea.

"As stupid as that sounds I need to study and since all the books in the library will be screaming I think I'll go to my dorm, I'll see you guys later." I smiled at my friends, waving at them as I stood up.

They all said they're goodbyes in return as I walked out of the hall.

I could feel a familiar Slytherins eyes on me as I left, slowing my pace down in the corridor as I heard the same familiar footsteps approaching me.

"Guess who?" He said from behind me with a chuckle, covering my eyes with his hands.

"Judging from this very shaky blindfold I'm gonna guess Regulus." I said with a laugh, turning around to face the smiling boy.

His hair was still messy despite his obvious efforts to style it, he grinned at me with that stupid lopsided smile you wouldn't expect from him if you were anyone else passing him in the corridor. A stern unemotional expression usually painting his face if he was around anyone else.

My relationship with Regulus started a few months ago when he caught me on the verge of throwing a book at some seventh years who were laughing at me over something so stupid I can't even remember what it was anymore.

He'd told them to piss off and then sat next to me, we spoke for a bit and despite my efforts to brush him off due to Sirius's warnings I couldn't help but be encapsulated by him.

Next thing I knew we were having secret meetings in empty dorms and broom closets.

"How's my favourite girl?" He asked, planting a small kiss on my forehead.

I swatted him away, taking a step to the side. I began walking again, him following close behind.

"What're you doing, someone could've saw." I said with a roll of my eyes, looking for a quite corner or broom cupboard we could duck into to talk.

"Why do you care, we have every right to speak to each other." He said with a groan, he'd been fed up of the secrecy for a while.

He was a private person, and it wasn't like he was looking for a relationship with heavy PDA but the secrecy was beginning to bother Regulus. Just the other day the head of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team asked me on a date to Hogsmead and Regulus just stood there biting his tongue as this guy just continued to flirt out of the excuses I was giving him.

He just wants people to know we are in a relationship, or at least see us together so often they don't bother asking.

But I wouldn't even let him speak to me in public.

"No we don't. I just think spent breakfast getting lectured about walking with Evan. I still haven't lived down when James saw me laugh at a joke Barty made the other week, and that's because they're friends with you. It would cause a war if James and Sirius found out we were together." I frowned at him as we slipped into a quiet corner of the castle.

He stood as close to me as he could and I found myself looking around to check no one was looking.

He put his finger under my chin, tilting my head up to look at him, taking all my attention away from worrying and onto him.

"I know your worried but I couldn't care less. What're you so scared of? James is your brother he's not going to hate you." He brushed a piece of hair out of my face and behind my ear as he spoke, leaving his hand to linger on the side of my face.

"Sirius is your brother and he seems to hate you." He frowned at that, taking his hand away and stepping back.

I quickly realised what I said, reaching out for his hand and pulling him close to me again.

"I'm sorry, that was mean. I didn't mean that. I just mean me and James have always been so close and I don't want that to change. I love him so much and I love Sirius and Remus and Peter so much as well. I can't loose them over something like this. But I can't loose you either, so if keeping this a secret is the only way I can keep all of you that's what I want to do." I gave him a small smile, holding my breath as I waited for him to respond, hoping he'd just drop the whole conversation.

"Okay I understand. More dates in broom cupboards it is." His hand returned to my face and I giggled lightly.

I looked up at his face with a smile taking in everything about him as I did so.

He was just so perfect I couldn't understand how anybody could hate him.

He leant down to plant a soft kiss on my lips, leaving me breathless despite the chasteness of it.

I smiled at him completely entranced by how amazing he was.

"What the fuck."

Sirius voice made me jump, pulling me out of the daydream I was in as I moved away from Regulus, trying to come up with some sort of explanation.

"Sirius I can explain."

"Explain what? Explain how your kissing my brother? Explain how your betraying me, one of your closest friends? Sure Y/n I'd love a fucking explanation." He glared at me with a look I'd never really seen from him before.

Betrayal.

"I just,,, Sirius." I couldn't think of an excuse, I looked between the two brothers as I weighed my options. I didn't have many "Sirius I love him. Please just let me love him. Don't be angry or turn it into something, please don't bring James into this. Please." I looked at him with pleading eyes as I felt Regulus's hand touch my shoulder comfortingly.

"Take your fucking hand off her." Sirius said with a glare, causing Regulus to back away from me. "How could you do this to me, to James. He cares about you so much he's trying to protect you from people like him. But I guess we were wrong you really are just a snake."

His words stung as I just looked at him speechless.

"Don't speak to her like that, none of this is her fault. What happens between me and you is between me and you, not her." Regulus said, stepping up to his brother.

"You don't get to talk to me like that, your the one in the wrong here not me. That's the way it always is." Sirius said, glaring daggers at him before giving me another hurt look and turning to walk away.

"Your the one who left me! Not the other way around." Regulus said, voice cracking at the end of his sentence.

Sirius stopped for a second before continuing to storm off without turning back around.

~~~

The next morning I walked to breakfast with Barty and Evan on my one side and Regulus on my other, holding my hand with a small smile.

Despite the drama of yesterday and the sinking feeling I had all night the weight of the secret had been lifted off both of our chests and it was nice to be able to be together in public without worrying.

I glanced over at the Gryffindor table, hoping to take my usual seat.

I saw the eyes of mine and Regulus's brother staring at me with daggers. I went to take a step towards them, dropping Regulus's hand but Sirius took the book that Remus was reading and slammed it into the empty seat next to him. Earning an annoyed and disapproving look from Remus who then looked up at me with a supportive smile.

I offered him a small smile back before sighing at the other boy's behaviour.

Regulus noticed and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, leading me over to the Slytherin table.

I focused my attention back on my friends as Barty continued telling some crude joke, trying to cheer me up a little.

~~~

"I'm sure they'll come around. He's your brother, he loves you." Regulus said whilst running a hand through my hair.

We were cuddling on the floor of a study room in the library, surrounded by books as we chatted and helped each other with potions homework.

"It's been three weeks and the only one of them that's spoken to me is Remus and that's only when we bump into each other. James is avoiding me like the plague, Sirius looks like he's about to kill me and Peters afraid to talk to me as if he'll get excommunicated as well if he does." I sighed, scribbling the notes I was writing out since I'd gotten distracted and lost what I was trying to write.

"They're just adjusting, this is new information they just need time." He kissed my forehead before leaning down to kiss my lips properly, causing me to smile again.

A cough from the door broke us apart.

"Am I intruding?" He asked, leaning against the door frame with a frown.

"James! Hi, your speaking to me?" I said with a small smile, getting out of Regulus's hug and onto my feet, walking over to him.

Regulus looked back down at his book, pretending to study and not listen to the conversation.

"I figured we should talk, I think this is the longest we've ever been apart. I just wanted to clear the air I guess." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

"I'm still beyond angry at you though, how could you date someone like him and not tell me." He said with a sigh, pinching his nose.

"Someone like him? I'm so fed up of you speaking about my friends and boyfriend like they're these evil people before you've even met them! He's a loving, caring, sweet boy who I love and who loves me. He just happens to come from a shitty family with shitty ideals. The exact same one your best friend comes from may I add. I'm sorry I kept this a secret from you, I was scared of what your reaction would be and obviously I had a right to be. But I will not apologise for being with him and loving him because I have every right to. I want nothing more than for us to be close again and to hang out like we were but if you can't deal with this then I'm sorry but I'm not going to break up with him over it, so it's you that's going to loose me." I watched his face, searching for some reaction but there wasn't one.

The room went silent for a second as James just stood there staring at me.

"Alright." He said, standing up straight and clearing his throat.

"Alright?"

"Alright. Your important to me, I can learn to get over it. No matter how gross it makes me feel."

I chuckled lightly and hugged him, feeling like a weight had been taken off my shoulders knowing we weren't fighting anymore.

"Are you going to introduce me to lover boy then?" He asked with a strained laugh.

He was trying his best.

[thatstonedwriter]

˚₊‧🍄[ Pain in the Ass ]🍃˚₊‧

◉ Synopsis; Billy Butcher comforts(?) you as you deal with chronic pain

◉ CW; swearing, chronic pain, mentions of self-medication, references to ableism, Butcher might be a bit OOC (sorry), implied romantic attraction

◉ A/n- I’m still nervous about writing scenarios/short fics but i wanted to try it out since I really like this prompt. Hopefully it turned out alright- enjoy!

You’d done your best- really you had. All morning, quotes from people who thought they knew better, your parents, your own fucking doctors- everybody saying it’s just “mind over matter”- echoing in your head. Classic platitudes you’ve heard since you were younger; people trying to relate, but instead, minimizing your pain.

“Oh yeah I get it- sometimes my stomach hurts, too.”

“Headaches suck but it could always be worse right?”

“You can’t let pain control you.”

“Fuck those stupid God damn- agh!”

Annoyed grumbles turn into a sharp gasp as another wave of pain shoots through your joints. This paired with the stomach/headache combo from this morning was really wearing you down.

And now you were reaching a point of desperation. The medicine you’d been prescribed proved itself useless against the pain today- and sure you could ask for some meds from Frenchie’s stash but… that option should be saved as a last resort. You could ask for help from Hughie, Kimiko or M.M. Surely one of them would be kind enough to pick up more of your prescription or grab you some heating pads- but then again, going out in public could put them at risk. You couldn’t ask them to put their lives in danger for something so trivial.

Never had it crossed your mind to ask Butcher for help. Worst case scenario, he kicks you out of the group for being weak- best case scenario? He says something ableist and leaves you to fend for yourself. No. You’re not dealing with that shit, especially not now.

A knock on the door to your little “bedroom” signaled that a higher power had other plans for you.

“Ya’alright in there, love?” Butcher’s voice, in any other scenario would have been a pleasant surprise- but in this moment of vulnerability? It was like hearing death bells toll.

“Yeah- yep- yep I’m good, thanks.” Your curt reply was not unusual to Butcher, but certainly not preferred. Slightly worrisome, even. You hadn’t come out all morning, and now you’re miffed with him? He hadn’t even done anything to piss you off! Today, at least.

He tries the doorknob, letting out a frustrated huff when it turns out to be locked.

"Trying to let yourself in? See, you're why God made locks."

"Come now, no need for the 'ostility-"

You rolled your eyes as Butcher began his usual spew of excuses, but one in particular caught your attention. It was near the end of his little monologue- softer, quieter, and spoken with a hint of uncertainty.

"and besides… can't have ya crappin' out on us, yeah?"

Even from in your room, you could hear the uncomfortable shuffling of a man unacquainted with emotional vulnerability.

"I'm not 'crapping out' on anyone," you scoff, wincing as more pain sears through your body. "But.. I could use some hel- hey!"

Before you could even finish your sentence, the door "magically" opened- and there Butcher stood, sly smirk on his face, lockpick in hand. He catches your gaze and shoves the pick back in his pocket.

"So then, what seems to be the problem, eh?"

God, it's going to sound so ridiculous when you say it out loud. Compared to what everyone's been through, saying "my tummy hurts" isn't really a matter of urgency.

But it's more than a stomach or headache on it's own. It's more than your joints occasionally aching and popping. It's been every goddamn day for as long as you could remember. Would it really be so wrong to ask for help?

“It’s just been.. pain. All day.”

“Is that all? A’right, where does it ‘urt?”

“…Everywhere. All the time.”

Your response caught Butcher off-guard. He’d been expecting some minor complaints, or even a sarcastic retort about what an ass he was being. The cocky, confident expression was replaced with one of concern as he caught a glimpse of the medications littering the nightstand. Surprisingly enough, they were all your own prescriptions. Probably not strong enough for whatever you were dealing with, Butcher reckons.

“You tried Frenchie’s stash?” he sighs, playful demeanor gone as he goes fishing in his pocket for cigarettes and a light.

“I’m.. saving that as a last resort.”

Butcher lets out a ‘hmph’ as he lights a cigarette, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out the door.

“What d’ya need?”

“Sorry?”

He takes another drag, this time blowing the smoke out his nose. “Make me a list, I can grab what’cha need.”

It was hard to tell whether or not Butcher was annoyed with you. On one hand, you could appreciate the concern. On the other, it was almost certain Butcher was frustrated with this show of “weakness.” It took you a moment to find the right words- not necessarily wanting to decline the offer, but hesitant to voice your needs.

“You don’t need to grab anything. Meds aren’t helping today, and I can’t ask you to put yourself at risk. But if you’re offering… I wouldn’t mind some company…”

Uneasy silence smothered the room until Butcher finally sighed, dropping his cig on the floor and putting it out before walking into the room, taking long, slow steps. He grabs a nearby chair, loud scraping assaulting your ears as Butcher drags it to the side of your bed, plopping himself down and crossing his arms. More uncomfortable silence envelops the two of you until you decide to speak up.

"You don't have to be here if you don't want to, y'know."

"I know," Butcher mumbles. He glances at you out of the side of his eye, gaze softening as he watches you wince as yet another wave of pain rolls through your body.

Black spots invade your vision as the aching in your body worsens. You let out a low groan, hands gripping the sheets tightly as you wait for this wave to pass.

A larger, calloused hand covers one of yours, startling you enough to open your eyes. Through the black spots, you swore you could see Butcher's hand on yours, thumb rubbing your knuckles softly.

"You'll uh.. You'll be a'right."

You let out a weak laugh at the awkward, but sweet attempt at comfort.

With how little you'd expected from him, this gentle, caring side to Butcher was a welcome surprise. As the pain dissipates, your eyes begin to flutter closed.

"How about ya take it easy today. I'll tell the others not to bother ya, and I'll come back 'n keep ya company." Butcher's voice is soft- unexpectedly considerate.

Nodding weakly, you lean your head back, shifting against the pillows to get comfortable once again.

Butcher squeezes your hand, keeping a firm hold on you as you drift back to sleep.

[bijoumikhawal]

I've gotten tired of making a post like this every few months so let's just fire a few of these off, and feel free to add on! Tropes you should at minimum reconsider using when you write or talk about Julian Bashir:

Mentions of "harem" pants, "Arabian nights" aesthetics, etc. These are improper terminology (that feeds into racist ideas) for real things, and when using that terminology those things are often being misrepresented. For my part, if you would actually like to know about the material culture of the Middle East and North Africa, I'm a "hobby" researcher of that very topic and will readily answer asks about it- with the caveat that I mostly know about Egypt, and I'm not the best person to ask about Sudanese specific culture even though I know a little, and I don't know much about Indian or Pakistani fashion (mentioning because these seem to be the most common cultures brought up around Julian).

comparisons to monkeys, apes, the word "simian". This should be obvious but it happens a fair amount, and it's almost comedic given a common trope is to comment on how much Garak hates being compared to a lizard.

This is separate but the way some people use mammalian tips from writing xenofic and trying to understand how an alien would think and categorize things into something that feels very exoticifying. It's not a "full stop, do not do this" but it is something I've noticed

Jokes about how undesirable Julian is. He's the exception that proves the rule about fandom's obsession with white twinks and a rare example of a brown nerd who isn't pinned into the "Couldn't sleep with a woman if they were the last two people on earth" box. I'm not saying we can't make fun of how he flirts just- Stay clear of Raj BBT territory

Conversely: my most hated garashir trope is when the author makes Julian's libido a problem by making him inconsiderate, cruel, and outright manipulative in service of his dick, and the writing often makes it clear they're connecting this to his masculinity. Julian does do some really stupid shit when it comes to his relationships, but this particular way of trying to incorporate this into writing him is just OOC, and you need to not confuse writing Julian's canonical robust and healthy sex life with negative stereotypes about lecherous Black and brown men. There's fics that pull off Julian being a bit of a dick or manipulative well- such as Salt the Earth or the ageswap series (at least where I last left off on it).

making his eyes green or blue. I have the same eye color as Siddig, more or less, and while it's technically hazel (or olive, as some people call it) most people think it's brown and most lighting makes it look brown. If you look at screencaps of Julian, you'll notice it also most of the time, looks brown. This sounds minor if you haven't experienced it, but it has a real and very negative impact on people's self image.

Older one but to be clear: if you're writing Julian as explicitly Muslim, find and replacing "god" with "allah" in English text is not how Muslims (or Arabic speakers in general) use the word? It is really funny to read, but please...

Over focusing on Julian as British. There's a long, LONG conversation that could be had about the dynamics of assimilation and how European racism (ime) very specifically views it as progressive to strip people of their culture and thinks they're causing the problem if they don't go along with it that would need its own post and which I've had with white fans before and feel exhausted thinking about- but to put it simply, there is no such thing as "just British", even for white Englishmen.

Yes the inverse is also wrong but I really haven't read a fic newer than 2014 guilty of that lmao and I think some of the more recent complaints about it are overblown, given I've read only a few fics recently published that delve into Julian as a Brown/African Person and I enjoyed them

I would personally appreciate it if fic writers were a little more balanced about cultural discussions honestly. If you write a lot about Cardassian culture, it'd be nice if Julian’s background was discussed. I won't say that kind of research is easy (again, I do this as a "hobby" that's very important to me, it's actually really annoying and difficult sometimes), but it is possible. I recently talked about how not doing this kind of mentally slots Julian into a "white guy" role.

This is not a matter of me policing your "artistic expression". I have no control over what you do. I would just like for fandom, a hobby I do for fun, to be a place where people stop being racist in a way that directly impacts me.

[seineko]

it's a sick fic but, minors still do not interact!

warning(s): again, its very self indulgent, and i really hope diluc isn't too ooc. also i wrote this while being very sick so, beware. slight angst, like if you squint very hard. like really hard.

i really suck at taking care of myself and, well, i got sick because of it. i want to be pampered so, i'm going to get diluc to pamper me :)

and yes, i really can't help but end most of my drabbles with a confession cause i am a very stupid hopeless romantic.

the number of times you got sick because you ignored your cold or sore throat (or both) was more than you could count on one hand. which doesn't seem a lot, but it's still stupid that it happened so many times.

and it happened again.

your sore throat persisted the entire evening you decided to do absolutely nothing about it.

so here you were, trying to reach for the water jug, but failing to do so with how heavy your entire body felt.

eyes hurting more with even the slightest of light let in, throat burning with every gulp you couldn't help but swallow down and head throbbing with the slightest sound that you heard.

'love?' you let out an involuntary wince as the voice - your boyfriend's voice - combined with the sound of the window latching into place, came in heavy, almost hammering your head.

'hey, here,' this time the voice was much more softer, almost a whisper, but you couldn't help the twitch of your eyes at the still persistent ache, 'drink up.'

you tried to gulp down a large sip to try and sooth the burning your throat felt but the glass was immediately pulled back, worried voice letting out an even softer, 'smaller sips.'

as you sipped the water much slowly this time, diluc's hand rested on your forehead, trying to get a check on your temperature. which was probably bad if the deep sigh was anything to go by, 'you're burning up.'

after your throat felt a bit better (temporarily), you pulled back to sit up straight, but diluc held your arms, pushing you back in place, 'no, you need to rest.'

your protest died down in your throat when you heard the worry in his tone. 'did you eat something?'

he didn't even let you answer that before asking, 'did you take medicine?'

at that you pulled your blanket up slightly, trying to hide under it.

diluc clicked his tongue.

with a resigned voice, he continued, a bit firmly now, 'do not move, i'll get you the tablets, and a water bath.'

it took longer than you anticipated it to, which was likely due to him changing his clothes, looking much more fresh with his hair open and a grey t-shirt and black tracks replacing his usual outfit.

'i apologize for the delay,' ever the gentleman, he set down the ice bath on the table beside your bed, putting the water jug down after pouring down another glass of water and holding it forward along with a few tablets on his other palm. you took them without much complaint as he fed them to you one by one, making you drink a few sips of water between each.

'i thought it would be better not to let any more germs near you,' eyes skimming down his clothes, he dipped the cloth in the eyes bath, twisting it to remove the excess before placing it on your forehead.

'ahh!' you let out something between a wince and a whine as the cold cloth touched your skin, hair rising all across your body.

'consequences,' was all he said, tone holding no remorse even as you suffered throughout the process! what a cruel boyfriend!

'if cruel means you get well soon, yes,' he clicked his tongue as he removed the cloth to dip it into the water again. uh ho, you seemed to have said it aloud, 'someone has to take care of you since you are clearly incapable of doing so.'

you wanted to retort, he was the last person you wanted to hear that from, but what he said next had every word stuck in your throat.

in a very small voice which held the slightest of hesitation and just a bit more pain, 'all i have left is you.'

'd-diluc,' you choked with both the pain you felt and the clear distress at his tone.

'shh, go back to sleep,' diluc sighed, removing the cloth from your forehead for the final time and hanging it on the side of the bowl he bought the ice water it. pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, he rubbed his thumb on your cheek, 'i'll go clear this up.'

you held back his hand on your cheek, refusing to let him leave. given how weak you were, he could've very easily removed the hold, but he held still. ears still ringing in your head, you shook your head, 'n-no, i can't sleep.'

'what can i do then?'

despite his protests, you got up completely to pat down on the corner of the bed, 'sit here.'

his usual deadpan expression was accompanied by the raise of his eyebrow. he still did as you told him to.

as soon as he sat down comfortably, you rested laid back down and rolled towards him to rest your head on his lap and let down a contended sound.

a slight smile spread across his lips at that. his fingers reaching up to caresses your scalp ever so slightly. diluc was sure that you would've completely turned boneless under his touch, purring every other second had you been a cat.

your eyelids already felt heavy as you looked up at him, pleading already visible through your orbs, 's-sing for me?'

not the one to sing usually, your boyfriend let out yet another sigh for the night before he started humming a familiar tune, a lullaby adelinde used to sing for him and kaeya when they were kids.

'diluc?' the sleep was taking over you, mind now muddled.

at his questioning hum, still in-between the humming, you just smiled into his lap, 'i love you.'

you drifted off before he could finish humming and reply with an, 'i love you too.'

©2024 by seineko @ tumblr

[gorogues]

Each of the Rogues being taken individually, what's the most common way that they're written badly (in terms of personality)? E.g., when they're written out of character, what does that most frequently look like?

James: I'm torn on James because his two main OOC screw-ups thankfully didn't happen often and they're diametrically opposed to each other. But when writers have messed him up, they did so big time: the dimwitted homophobic jerk in Countdown, and the cruel Machiavellian mastermind in "The Greatest Trick Of All". The latter wasn't a mistake, it was a specific creative choice, but IMO it was a poor one which damaged his character.

Lisa: I think Lisa's problem was again a deliberate creative one, but I'm not fond of the post-Crisis decision to make her ker-AZY! for the sake of comedy. Yes she'd always been somewhat unstable and violent, but it got dialed up for laughs and not really dealt with by those who knew her. It would have been less frustrating if the people close to her had noted and been concerned about a decline in her mental health, because that's actually story development. Instead she became violent comic relief and ultimately kind of Flanderized.

Len: In the modern era (circa 2000 and beyond), I think the worst characterization done to him is when the writer makes him stupid or thoughtless, because he most assuredly is not. We all have our dopey moments, but stuff like him marching down the street in costume complaining about the heroes being fascists is just weird and very unlike him, as is the entirety of his appearances in Flash: The Fastest Man Alive and Countdown. At least Johns salvaged the latter stories by making it part of his development (he realized he'd made a foolish mistake that cost the Rogues dearly, and reacted accordingly), but it never should have happened in the first place.

Digger: This one's tough, because he did a complete 180 in terms of personality after Crisis, and considering that I don't know if you can say he's really been out of character. I know there are some people out there who are unhappy about that change, and it's a valid complaint I'm sympathetic to, but IMO he became a much more interesting and more dynamic character once Ostrander revamped him and I can't really be mad about it. However, there's no denying that he really did become a different person…whether that's good or bad is likely personal preference. I will say that I really disliked DC ridiculing him and making him seem pathetic around the time of Identity Crisis so he could be killed and replaced, and wish they hadn't done that.

Mick: A full-on violent lunatic who revels in killing and hurting others. We saw it occasionally before the New 52, but the reboot turned it up to 11.

Roscoe: There are a few stories which make me a bit cranky, but IMO the only one that's done poorly is the presidential story. I like the general plot idea, but Waid had a poor understanding of Roscoe's character/personality and it sets my teeth on edge because it didn't seem the writer liked or cared about him much and it showed. From "the least of the Rogues" to the weirdness about him being from Brooklyn(??), to him being self-deprecating(??) about his intelligence and education(??) and his tops(??). The story would have been very good if Waid had characterized him properly, but botched it.

Hartley: For the most part, I believe he's stayed mostly in-character. He's appeared in some bad stories for sure, but I'd say the times he was truly poorly written were when the writer forgot or didn't know/care that he's suppposed to be reformed and heroic -- Flash: The Fastest Man Alive and Flash #775 come to mind. At least both were salvaged afterwards.

Axel: That Helmet of Fate: Detective Chimp one-shot. That's the only time I've ever felt he was written out of character, though his personality has evolved over the years as he matures. Axel can be a vicious jerk on occasion, but casually murdering a bunch of college kids just for their stuff is IMO beyond him at his worst.

Sam: He's a weird one because he died before most characters started getting properly developed, so he never had any truly standout OOC stories (he did come across as a whiny dork when visiting Gotham with Digger, though). Then he was brought back in the New 52 and became something of a cipher, and I personally didn't start finding him interesting again until he left the Flash book and started appearing elsewhere. I don't think I could choose something for him aside from maybe that Gotham story, and that was pretty minor.

Mark/Marco: The times I can think of him being notably out of character were in that same rough era that plagued a bunch of Rogues: Flash The Fastest Man Alive, Countdown, and Salvation Run. It was just a bad period for all of them, and he came off like a thoughtless idiot in those stories. That isn't necessarily out of character for him because he was sometimes portrayed as kinda thick before Johns, but it's clear that Johns intended for him to be relatively intelligent and cultured so it does seem jarring in that era.

Evan: When he loses the moral compass he had since the beginning, and doesn't care who he hurts or kills. He was quite firmly against killing women and children….but that hasn't been the case for the past ~25 years.

Albert: The whole modern Hannibal Lecter routine, in which we saw a decent man who struggled with his darker impulses become a sociopathic bookworm without real development or explanation. It made him a lot scarier, but at the expense of his existing personality.

Owen: Leaving aside the weird revamp he got post-Flashpoint, I found he was most often mischaracterized by making him really stupid and incompetent. A fair number of his appearances in the Outsiders series were like this (which is why I don't love the series), and of course Blackest Night: Flash #3.

Roy: This is cheating, because the only time I've truly felt he was written out of character was just a cameo; he appeared and died within a page. It was his death scene in Flash v2 #183, but in that issue he seemed like a common thug with no resemblance to him aside from the joke about art and colour blindness. It was poorly done.

[tazzertopia]

my thoughts on the hxh phantom rouge movie

pls do not take this too seriously i just wanna talk about things i noticed when watching it while sleep deprived last night 😊👍😊👍

🚨YAPPER ALERT🚨

-ik kurapika defo would’ve mentioned him at some point to gon and killua but how the fuck did they recognise (puppet) uvogin… like no hesitation….. did kurapika show them a picture or what

-why was kurapika so badly dumbed down and ooc in the movie it actually pissed me off (not really) like one of the main plot points is that the puppet guy (insufferable prick who I’ll get to later) used dead pairo to steal kurapika’s eyes but the issue is that he used pairo’s child self to lure him in like…. 🤨 based on the flashbacks i’m assuming kurapika was around 11-12 when the kurta clan massacre happened and pairo was probably either the same age or a year or two younger (i am not looking this up due to i can’t be bothered) so how the fuck did kurapika not question why his supposedly alive friend hadn’t aged a day in about five years

-especially as kurapika is mostly pretty level headed and logical so how would he not figure that out

-the timeline was confusing as hell to me bc based on uvo and pakunoda being dead in the movie and killua still having illumi’s manipulation needle i’d assume it’s anywhere between the end of the york new arc to the end of the greed island arc but thanks to the power scaling it’s really hard to tell ????????? like somehow gon and killua were basically unscathed after getting directly hit by uvo (the physically strongest member of the troupe) but basically just attacked by combining their nen and overall didn’t seem that strong like how strong are they meant to be by this point

-the townspeople in this movie are coming out on top in the idgaf war because the way none of them reacted to uvo demolishing a hospital… like no commotion. NADA. they just minded their business the entire movie (inspirational tbh)

-but also why was the hospital so desolate and why was kurapika the only one there

-the way only gon, killua and the blonde girl reacted to uvo fucking up the hospital while kurapika remained unbothered

-finally gonna talk about that ugly mf omokage

-he looks like a toxic love interest from an early 2000s dark fantasy harem anime

-like why was he in a completely different art style

-his ability soul doll or whatever it’s called is stupid op bc you’re telling me he can just create puppets of anyone he wants with their exact strength just like that ???????

-also what is the criteria for creating the puppets bc i swear they never explain how he’s able to create them

-like does he need their hair or what

-still confused on how kurapika used chain jail on him considering he isn’t a spider anymore (no clue how the limitations to his power were so flexible) #plotconvenience

-illumi looked uglier than usual in this movie especially at the beginning when he killed those kids

-hisoka’s hair being more orange than red also pissed me off

-we got one shalnark line in the movie tho 😍😍😍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍 crumbs

-speaking of crumbs for a movie about the phantom troupe they had barely any screen time

-like barely even five minutes 💔

-lastly just wanna say how fuxking ugly the blonde girl’s puppet was i hate it so much

-lastly lastly ik i posted this already but the cgi fish made me giggle bc they look so out of place (ik i couldn’t do any better i just found them funny tee hee)

that’s it hope you enjoyed reading my complaints about a cash-grab anime movie 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕😜😜😜😜 can’t wait to watch the last mission tonight so i can complain about it tomorrow 💙 that’s what you get when you’re desperate for hxh content lols but like i said pls don’t take this too seriously okay mwah xoxoxo

[oldyoungneil]

Wrote something for Stephan and Wallace :] apologies if it's OOC it's very late at night and I'm new to the fandom (also I have yet to read the comics)

Description: Stephan gets a little wasted at a (lame) house party. Wallace is there to "help".

No NSFW. There's kissing but it's not super detailed. Also drugs and alcohol but fair warning I've never tried either so I've got no frame of reference.

Stephan Stills was fine. He was totally fine. At least that's what he told himself as he stood outside the door to Scott's apartment. He was going to go to this stupid birthday party and then go home and it was not gonna suck and he was going to have a good time.

   Stephan raised his hand to knock, but the door flew open before he made contact, causing his knuckles to make land with force on the forehead of Scott's roommate Wallace.

   "C'mon dude, not the face! That's the money maker, the man magnet-" Wallace was cut off before he could finish his long winded complaint. "Sorry! Sorry, I'm here for the party... Scott's birthday thing?" Stephen asked, trying to disguise the stress in his voice."Yeah, I know what your here for, come inside before you freeze to death." Wallace pulled Stephen into the house by his shirt collar, closing the door behind him.

   "Theres drinks on the kitchen counter, and some edibles if that's more your speed. You should get, like, thirty. You look like you're about to explode or something and I am NOT cleaning your bits off my ceiling" Wallace teased and squeezed Stephen's shoulder before walking away to bother Scott.

   Stephen decided to pass on the weed (at least for now; weed made him stupid) and found his way toward the closest beer. Looking around the small house, it didn't seem quite like a party to Stephan. He supposed that checked out, though, considering Scott had about six friends (one of which being a high school girl). He wasn't complaining though. He wasn't in the mood for a crowd anyway.

   The mood got a bit livelier as the group got drunker, and eventually someone turned on some music. At some point, Stephen danced with Kim and then with Scott. After a bit of jumping around, Stephen's stomach decided that the brownies by the counter looked pretty tasty. His brain thought that one would be plenty, but his stomach thought five would be good. He listened to his stomach.

   Another (very hazy) hour or so went by before everyone started to leave. Scott went home with Ramoma, and the rest of the party followed, eventually leaving Stephan alone with Wallace.

   "Im.. uh... party's over... pretty tired... home" Stephan mumbled out. Wallace groaned. "Dude, how many of those brownies did you eat?" Stephan thought for a moment. "Umm. I dunno. Like... five? Sorry man... I'll pay you back or whatever... or bake you some more or something... didn't mean to eat all your food." "No, dumbass, you don't need to pay me back. I just... dude! I told you those were edibles! I can't measure shit! God knows how much weed was in those! Look, dude, you're not walking home! Just... I dunno, Scott's gone off somewhere, just take his spot and stay the night." Stephan shrugged his shoulders and took off his shoes before flopping onto the mattress on the floor.

   Wallace threw some old basketball shorts and an undershirt at Stephen. "Here. Those are Scott's. Probably better than sleeping in jeans" Stephen stood up from the bed and began to unbutton his shirt. Wallace considered telling him to change in the bathroom, but, hell, who was he to turn down a show. Stephen continued working on his shirt untill his unfocused fingers stumbled upon a particularly tricky button that they couldn't quite make work of. "Seriously man" Wallace rolled his eyes "I thought guitarist were supposed to be good with their fingers. Here, lemme just..." Wallace stepped closer to Stephen, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. "There ya go"

   It could've just been his imagination, but Wallace swore Stephan turned about seventy different shades of red. "Uhh... thanks" Stephen mumbled as he unzipped his jeans and attempted to step out of then without falling on his ass(which, in his current state, required some concentration).

   "So", Wallace moved closer to Stephen. "Weed makes you stupid. Stupid people talk alot. Tell me a secret" Stephen shrugged. "I think I'm gay... or something... hey, arnt you gay...?"

   Stephen looked around for the spare clothes that Wallace had brought, but couldn't find them. "Wheres-" Wallace, who had already made his way under the covers, cut him off before he could finish. "Don't worry about it. Just get in." Wallace patted the space beside him in the bed. Stephan, who had no better ideas, did as he was told.

Wallace laughed. "Yeah, dude, it's obvious! Both of those things are obvious!"

   Stephan furrowed his eyebrows like he was deep in thought. Wallace was right, weed did make him stupid. Stephen squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips against the other man's. Or at least, he meant to. He overshot his target a bit and ended up with a little bit of top lip and a whole lot of nose. Wallace laughed before he kissed Stephen, running his hands through Stephen's hair. Stephen reciprocated fervently, moving closer to Wallace.

   Stephen nodded again, but his eyes stayed on Wallace. Wallace thought it was kinda creepy. He grabbed Stephen by the shoulders and turned him away, little spoon style, before putting an arm around his shoulders. "Go to sleep, man" Wallace whispered, but Stephen was already out.

   The two continued like this for a number of minutes, untill Wallace pulled away. "Look, man, im not gonna sleep with you." Stephen looked confused. "I mean, you can stay on the mattress and you can kiss me all you want, but that's it. You're waaaay too wasted for any fun stuff. Look, i may be a slut, but I have standards." Stephen nodded understandingly. "Hey, if you're still up for it, we can talk in the morning, but I've been up all day and im exhausted, so just go to sleep, ok?"

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

haze

fantasizing about frat chapter president! eren....

pairing: Frat Boy!Eren x Fem!Reader, side Porco x Fem!Reader

tw: eren is MEAN as fuck, dubcon touching, cheating, degradation, power play, misogyny, abuse, ooc, i love porco but I'm slandering him here...so sorry. dark content.

eren slides a hand up your thigh from the mini-dress you're wearing, and you're just a little confused bc you're pretty sure he has a girlfriend, and you're pretty sure he knows you have a boyfriend.

but he clearly doesn't care. he's telling you to not make a scene, and you're indignant. well as indignant as you can be. you're soft around the edges, meek to a fault and you find it hard to raise your voice.

he's mocking you.

"is m-my boyfriend the only thing you know how to say?" he emphasizes your stutter. you nervously look around, locking your eyes with a boy with slicked-back dark blond hair and swimming-athlete broad shoulders. when you try to get up, eren's strong hand presses on your thigh to prevent you from escaping.

he follows your trembling gaze and a smirk creeps into his mouth, "that's him right? your boyfriend?" he spits the word out like it's coated in venom.

you don't confirm or deny but that's all eren needs.

"Galliard!" eren calls out. your eyes widen in surprise, and porco is surprised too. but nonetheless, he walks over, hesitation evident with every step.

he doesn't say anything about the way eren is touching you, about his hand groping your thighs like a lifeline.

you know porco. he's very prideful and stubborn and had a tendency to rush into things headfirst but he's also kind and gentle and immensely protective over you.

so, if he was all of these things, why did he stand before eren like a dog with its tail tucked between his legs? there was not even a hint of the usual bravado you've been accustomed to seeing when he was with reiner.

eren pulls you right next to him, his arm wrapped around your waist. there's practically no space in between you two. he's close enough to smell your shampoo.

"your girlfriend is pretty." he says flatly. no not flatly, there's a sneer accompanying his tone.

porco gulps.

you don't what's happening, but eren grabs your dress-clad tit with no hesitation, groping and squeezing your nipple. he must have noticed you weren't wearing a bra.

"isn't she pretty galliard."

your boyfriend is perplexed, unsure of what the fuck is happening: "ye-yeah she is." it's a lame comment and eren sighs like he's bored.

his sharp fingernails dig into the plush of your thigh, "how badly do you wanna join this frat, galliard?"

porco is trying to process what he's just been asked but the answer escapes before he could force it back, "m-more than anything." he repeats himself as if to assure himself, "more than anything."

eren smiles, too wide and full of teeth to be genuine. "that's good...that's good" he hums.

he runs a hand through his pretty dark hair, "well I'll cut to the chase. you wanna join my chapter and I wanna fuck your girlfriend."

you gasp, instantly looking to porco but he can't meet your eyes. why were you being treated like you had no agency? your noises of disagreements and whiny complaints are snuffed by eren's large hand covering your mouth.

"shut up. the men are talking."

he then redirects the conversation back to porco, "you really haven't trained her much, have you?"

what the fuck?! yeah sure you may have been the shyest kid in class but even you had your limits. you've always thought frats were stupid and couldn't understand your boyfriend's obsession with getting into one, especially this one, the supposedly most prestigious and exclusive one.

you bite down on eren's hand. he moves his hand away with an unnatural quickness, cursing under his breath.

"stupid bitch" if looks could kill, his green eyes would have shot you dead thousand times by now, "you're a wild fucking animal." than he gives your body a once-over, staring obnoxiously, "do you fuck like one too?"

porco also looked surprised and nervous. whether for himself or for you, you don't know.

"your girlfriend bit me." he states calmly to porco, "what are we gonna do about that?"

you can't move, you're still trapped by eren's hands and the way porco is standing is over you, he's locking you in.

"she'll apologize, she will."

"no I won't!" you shriek.

eren sighs, taking a long hit of his dab pen, zeroing in the smoke before blowing the cloud on porco's face. the blond merely winces.

"you heard the lady" the dark-haired boy shurgs, "so I have an idea."

you could feel your heartbeat pounding.

"Hit her."

time seemed to slow down. "w-what?" porco's face lost all of its color. "a slap or something. you can backhand her if you want to."

backhand her if you want to. the words echoed in your ears like a frenzy of sounds, you were only hearing it, can't even understand it.

eren pushes you onto his lap, and iron-clad grip on your waist. he transfers your weight like you're no more than a feather. you know he's an athlete, that he's strong, but this strong?

"i-i'm not going to do that."

the dark-haired boy chuckles, "how many generations of your family have been accepted into this frat huh? you have legacy and couldn't even get in your freshman year. jesus christ, you're literally only standing before me because you have legacy."

he's continuing his verbal assault, "and with this fuckin chick, stop your dramatics. it's so cute that you're acting like a good boyfriend when you had your tongue down pieck's throat literally last night."

"w-what" your voice is no more than a whisper, tears welling in your eyes.

you can't even hold yourself back as you stare at your boyfriends, no, ex-boyfriends' eyes and utter, "you are fucking pathetic."

you're not exactly surprised when you see his hand raised, and you brace yourself from the impact, closing your eyes shut.

the impact never comes. you open your eyes to see eren holding his wrist. he lets out a low whistle, "seesh were you really about to hit your girl?"

this is the first time you've seen porco sputter. eren takes another hit of his pen, "get the fuck out of here."

porco has the audacity to look back at you before he turns on his heel and leaves like a cowardly dog.

"let me go."

eren's lips are pressed to your neck, "no...i don't think i will."

kofi

taglist: @imjustsomebodyelse @forwardpair @cinnamon-n-roses @candy-hime

[leko-meko]

hcs of the demon brothers baking in the kitchen with you

a/n: slight warning if ooc, i am a person who refuses to do the story and i will continue to not do so. please forgive me i am using the wiki rn ahahh..

cw: none

lucifer:

lucifer rarely enters the kitchen except for preventing any of his brothers from doing stupid

so he will have to depend on you and your expertise on baking to hopefully get something edible out of this date

i also see lucifer just researching a bit about human world cooking just for you <3

he’s an average baker, not bad but not good also. perfectly in the middle :)

lucifer can take baking a bit too serious, determined to do it perfectly step by step, measuring all the ingredients to a tee

makes the mood a little awkward but you relentlessly tease him about how serious he takes this

“i don’t want to mess this chance up with you” 

overall a good experience with luci! don’t worry, he enjoys the time the two of you spent together :))

“Lucifer...” It felt like an hour passed by as you patiently waited by his side. How much time has passed when you first started gathering ingredients to bake some cookies? The demon was still measuring the liquids to add into the bowl. “It’s fine if it’s off by a little. We’re just making some cookies.” He narrowed his eyes at your words. Lucifer was not listening to you. Letting out a sigh, you just let him do what he likes. It just shows how much he cares about you, you suppose.

--

mammon:

mammon brags about his great skills in baking and that you should just relax and let him do all the work

somehow splits the egg yolk in half when cracking it

he grudgingly lets you back in the kitchen when you try to convince him that its a bonding time between the two of you

you sometimes wonder how the kitchen hasn’t been destroyed yet with how impatient mammon can be

“if we bake at 4000 degrees, it would be done in 1 second!”

you are the only thing thats stopping the house burning down to the ground

he is the reason why you the both of you get so side tracked from the task

you and mammon spent a whole 5 hours in the kitchen, but hey, at least the cake wasn’t that bad

Mammon’s laugh reverberated in the empty kitchen. His laughing fit seemed to shake the very foundation of this mansion. You honestly just wanted to get this over with, pouting as you waited for Mammon to calm down. Not even two hours have passed yet the cake batter had yet to enter into the oven. He wiped batter onto your face, noticing how mad you seemed to be. “Are ya mad? Hehe, not my fault you spilled extract on ya!” You shoved your hand onto his face, the texture of butter making him scream in horror.

--

leviathan:

when you first brought up the idea of baking together, levi was very against it, complaining about the mess and how much time is being wasted just to only fill your hunger for a few days

he was also the one to say complaints while dragging you to the kitchen

i hc him being really good at baking, almost on the same level of simeon

its the fact that he sews ok?!?!? we love a man who can do home ec

he has an ep of tsl going in the background for the both of you to watch

it was very chill baking with him, just having this comfortable atmosphere yknow??

it was mostly you marveling at how good levi’s baking skills are (he was very happy and proud at your praise)

with your cupcakes in tow, the two of you continued to watch tsl in his room

You couldn’t help but marvel at Levi’s intricate and beautiful decorations. With a twist of his wrist, a beautiful swirl of sugary cream wrapped around the plain vanilla cupcake, enhancing its appearance. Each cupcake was unique in design, whether one had pearls, or the other was a mixture of pastel colors-- all of them looked delicious to eat. “These are amazing, Levi!” You couldn’t help but compliment and praise him. He let go of the pipping bag as he huffed in pride. “Of course, this is my specialty!” 

--

satan:

this man said cranberries and chocolate cookie (canon this is true /j)

is there any kitchen cliches? if so it happens to you and satan

satan would try to be as careful as he can when dealing with ingredients, hands shaking as he pours into a big bowl

this mf would also pour in a whole container of chocolate into the batter just so it would taste more chewy

oh my god... satan using those thick cooking books when making cookies with you... 

overall, very cute time with satan as the both of you try to make very chunky cookies...

“Should we do 350 degrees or 375 degrees when baking cookies?” Satan said, a hand on his chin as he scrutinized the cookbook. “This recipe says 350, but the other one said 375... Should we do it in the middle?” You were honestly not paying attention as you blankly stared at Satan like a fool. He just was... very cute and adorable throughout the time you two spent with each other. Your head continued to nod at every word he said like a chicken pecking at seeds.

--

asmodeus:

if asmo was going to bake something, he got to at least make it the best he can (it means he wants to make a tiramisu)

 if it wasn’t because you and asmo already planned to make something that day, he would’ve dragged you to shop for the entire day instead of only buying the ingredients

you didn’t expect how exhausting making tiramisus would be until today

the two of you designated jobs in making the tiramisu: asmo doing the cream while you do the cake. after that, decorating would be a team activity

asmo was never the one to bake, he would usually just buy cakes and desserts from bakeries and cafes so this was new to him

surprisingly, he isn’t doing that badly. clearly amateurish but still looks edible

once it was finished, asmo enthusiastically took pictures to post on his socials, happy with how it turned out

you and asmo enjoyed the tiramisu as you enjoyed his company (and gossip)

With a final click on the camera button, Asmo smiled as he posted his pictures on Devilgram. “Good job, team! These look amazing!” He brought a hand up for you to high five, and you gladly did. “It’s a shame to ruin these, but I’m hungry.” The demon brought a portion up to his lips, eyes curved into crescent shapes in happiness. “Here,” he stuck his fork back into the dessert and bringing it up to your mouth. “Try it!”

--

beelzebub:

go big or go home, right? so a cake, right?

you were fortunate enough that beel doesnt eat flour or butter by itself, so the two of you had enough to bake a cake

you could just hear the growling in beel’s stomach, excited at the idea of eating a cake you would be making with him

beel would keep stealing portions of the cake batter and whipped cream to eat while you were busy with other things

wait a minute.. can demons get food poisoning???

after losing like 10% of the batter, the cake is safely baked under the watchful eyes of beel

after decorating it, the cake was beauituflly done!! although it looks plain, its the taste that counts <3

i can see beel share his cake with his brothers... after eating 80% of it of course 

Beel quietly sat in front of the oven window, eyes gleaming with anticipation. Even after washing the bowls and utensils, Beel continued to sit there with the oven light on, not moving an inch as you moved closer to where he sat. “Beel?” He hummed in response, moving his head upwards to meet your gaze. “Come watch with me.”

--

belphegor:

belphie would’ve just sat back and watched if you didn’t convince him to join you in baking together

he felt like a lazy cat you had to take care of-- belphie’s just leaning against you like you were a bed or something smh

although you did most of the work, belphie was your official taste tester, giving his input whether it’s too sweet or salty

again... can demons get food poisoning???

when it was sent into the oven, you and belphie had a nice session of enjoying each others company ok (my babie)

bc of that,,, the cookies were almost burnt

a little hard to eat... crunchy though?? he keeps a case of his cookies next to his bed to eat when he wakes up

“Belphie...” You whined, the heaviness weighing your back made your task ten times harder than it needed to be. “I’m just putting these cookies into the oven.” He still wouldn’t let go. “This is the last batch... We can spend some time together once I put these in.” Hearing that, Belphie hesitantly released his hold on you as you let out a sigh of relief. With a click, the cookies were safely inside the oven as he kept a finger hooked on your shirt like a cat, waiting while you washed your hands from any grease. The dark-haired boy wanted to go back to his room to sleep. He was sure he would have a nice dream with you next to his side smelling like the enticing aroma of sweets.

a/n: I DID NOT DOUBLE CHECK THIS OR ANYTHING i kinda lost motivation halfway so blame me ahha but i gift this to my friends haj and cas go besties!!!

[alaskasmonsters]

Patch-Up | Levi Ackerman

levi got injured and you clean his wounds and patch him up, feeling guilty about being the reason he got hurt.

pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

w.c: 2.665

warning: very minor description of injuries, mentions of blood, Levi is kinda very soft in this one

a.n: i wasn’t actually planning to finish this so quickly, haha, levi i love you. also, i feel like he might kinda be ooc??? i just idk, maybe? i hope it isn’t too bad, though.

A frustrated sigh left your lips as you inspected Levi’s face closer, trying to hide your concern about the head wound and the now dried-up blood that marked a trail from the man’s hair line down to his chin.

He’s been hurt during your fight against Kenny and his guys, hitting his head horribly at one point during, leaving a nasty cut behind.

You already felt bad about that, since it was kinda your fault he hit his head in the first place, as he had to protect you in a moment you weren’t entirely focused and would have certainly died if Levi hadn’t swooped in and saved your ass.

It didn’t help that Levi’s eyes, who were usually set in a cold and unbothered glance had grown softer, which smoothened out the frown he almost always wore on his face.

It was terrifying.

You hoped the man didn’t have a concussion because of your stupidity.

“I’ll clean the wound,” you mumbled weakly, repeating words you’ve already said once to remind yourself to keep moving towards him.

You were hyper aware of the captain’s eyes on you and the way the matratze softly bounced as you sunk down on the bed beside him. You reached for the bucket with fresh water and the cloth hanging off it and noticed in horror that your hands were shaking.

Calm down. It‘s only a little blood.

Dipping the fabric into the water and wringing it out you tried to focus your attention on calming your breath, scared Levi would notice you panicking and get annoyed by your sensitive nature as he once called it.

As you were sure your heart rate had slowed you turned again, sending the brunet a small smile, hoping it looked reassuring, as you moved the cloth to start cleaning around the area of the eyes first, so he could see again.

Your hands were still shaking, you noticed bitterly, but you tried your best to make it seem like it was fine.

A hand then took hold of your wrist in a surprisingly soft manner, holding your arm in place.

You froze in surprise, eyes glancing up to find Levi staring at you. His gaze studying you calmly.

“I‘m okay,” he said.

You averted your eyes, biting your lips.

So he had noticed.

Of course.

He was way too observant to miss your fidgety movements and shaky breath. You should probably be more surprised about the soft tone of his voice and the absent annoyance in his features.

„I know,“ you assured, trying and probably failing at putting a tone of certainty in your voice.

Levi studied your face once more, before he gave a slow nod of approval, letting go off your wrist again.

You hoped he didn’t see you visibly relax after he did.

Quickly, you went to work and started cleaning off the dried blood from beneath his left eye first. That proved itself more difficult than you had expected as the constant weight of his eyes on you made you feel nervous and short-breathed.

Silence fell between the both of you, the only sound being your breathing and the occasional water splashing, when cleaning off the rug.

“Close your eye,” you ordered as you had removed all the blood from his cheek.

Levi did what you told him without complaining, closing his eye while he continued watching you out of the other in the meantime.

You clenched your jaw, slowly growing frustrated by the eerie silence between you two and Levi’s uncharacteristic calmness.

Not that he usually screamed at you, but the aura of annoyance that enveloped humanity’s strongest most days, especially when interacting with you it seemed, had disappeared.

It kinda scared you.

His persistent glance on you, now out of two eyes again as you moved to clean off the cloth, would have felt more comfortable if he’d just rolled his eyes once in a while.

It almost seemed like he was expecting you to do something, or hoping maybe. Although you had no idea of what that could be.

Slowly the silence was growing heavy for you, the urge to fill it with words becoming unbearable. So when you turned back to move on to his forehead, softly brushing dark strands of hair out of his face you said the first thing that came to mind.

“I‘m sorry.“

The familiar frown appeared on his face again and your heart jumped in your chest.

“What are you talking about?“

You shrugged, trying to focus your attention on your task at hand instead of letting your eyes shift back to his.

“I was being stupid and didn‘t pay attention and you had to save my ass...now you‘re hurt,” you whispered, words dripping with guilt.

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes and you cursed yourself at being so hypersensitive. Levi hated when you cried about stupid shit, he hated it when you were being dramatic.

You bit your lips, forcing the tears back down.

„Tch. It wasn‘t your fault your ODM gear malfunctioned, brat.”

Levi did finally sound annoyed (his voice still had that soft nuance to it, though, so it didn’t completely count).

“If I wasn't distracted that moment, I wouldn't have been almost sliced up by one of Kenny’s guys despite my malfunctioning ODM gear and you wouldn’t have had to swoop in and save my ass and then you never would have gotten hurt...” i explained, hands moving faster to rub the blood off of his skin as my voice rose in frustration.

If you had only been able to save face, keep calm and not fall into utter panic the moment something didn’t work out as you had expected it, too. Then this would have never happened.

Levi was right. You were irresponsible and childish and hot headed and...

A cold hand snuck around your wrist once again, squeezing your skin once, twice. Your hand stilled. Turning your face away, you bit your lip in frustration.

You had been told often, by almost everyone you’ve ever gotten to know throughout the years with the Survey Corps, that you wore your heart on your sleeve. Some found it endeatring, calling you soft hearted and gentle, while others were (rightfully) scolding you for it, saying you’d never make it far in this kind of profession when you weren’t even able to hide your frustration with the smallest things.

Armin, one of your new recruits, had once told you you had an honest face. Said it was the reason many people trusted you, since they knew you couldn’t hide your lies or insincerities as easily as others.

Levi had told you many times that it was your biggest disadvantage and he was right. You’d never be able to rise in the ranks, never would be declared the leader of a squad or trusted in a position with responsibility. After all, nobody wanted to take orders from someone who couldn't hide their fear, anger, frustration or sadness.

You almost expected Levi to scold you for it once again, grip your wrist and tell you, no, order you to get a grip, not to let anybody see your weakness...

He didn’t.

“I told you, it wasn‘t your fault,” he told you sternly as his thumb softly stroked the inside of your wrist.

Your brain so gracefully short-circuited at the action and unwillingly, as if you were pulled towards a magnet, your eyes were drawn back towards Levi.

His facial expression was just as monotone as usual, but his eyes, they were different still. An emotion you couldn’t quite grasp hidden just beneath the surface. You didn’t know what exactly it was, but it made your heart flutter.

“I‘m still sorry though,” you protested weakly, smiling a little, hoping it would ease the thick tension.

Levi continued to study your face in silence for a few seconds before he finally let go, with a roll of his eyes and a scoff.

You could hardly hide the feeling of triumph that gave you.

“Brat.”

You grinned at him, turning your attention back to his wounds.

You hadn’t even noticed how long you’d already held his hair back, cradling his head in your hand.

The realization made your cheeks glow and you quickly sneaked a look at the man but noticed thankfully Levi had either not noticed or decided not to comment.

You went back to your job, chest a little lighter.

When you were finished cleaning off all the dried off blood you took a closer look at his injury. Despite the vehement blood loss the cut in his skin was relatively small. It didn’t even need stitches, although it might leave behind a bump, considering the velocity he had hit the roof with on his way down.

You sat back on your hackles and raised your finger. You gave Levi a stern (or hopefully stern) glance as you told him to follow your movements.

“Don‘t be an idiot, i don‘t have a concussion.”

You gave him a pout, unmoving as you eyed him stubbornly.

Judging by how easily he gave in, indicated by a sigh and another roll of his eyes, your worry might be justified.

You started moving your hand slowly and Levi followed the movement for a while, sending you a glare when you started drawing circles and spirals into the air.

You just gave him a grin.

“Okay, any dizziness? Headaches?” you asked.

“Why need a headache when you‘re around?” Levi answered sarcastically.

Seems like he was alright enough to be a little shit, then.

“Don‘t insult the person who‘s been cleaning blood off of you for 10 minutes!“

Now the only thing left to do was patching up his head, Thinking about it, a bandaged head would probably only add even more to his already above average appearance.

You started applying the cloth, carefully wrapping the material around his head. Levi endured your slow process like a champ.

You peeked at him from time to time, making sure the man had no complaints. He was very precise and hated sloppy work and you didn’t want him to think of you as unfit to fix him up. After all you had been the one offering, no, persisting to take a look and you didn’t want him to regret giving in to you.

“Stop looking at me like that, brat.”

You frowned, glancing down at him again.

“What? I don‘t know what you mean. I‘m not looking at you in any specific way.”

The corners of his lips moved up slightly, close enough to resemble a smile and your breath stuttered at the unfamiliar action. Your eyes were pulled towards them, the soft curve of his mouth was strangely captivating to you.  

“It‘s the way you‘re always looking at me,” he explained with a teasing tone and his smirk widened a little, making him look less and less like the Levi you’ve talked to every day.

Your face flooded with heat and you quickly snapped up your eyes, to no longer stare at the man’s lips (yes, you had been staring, how embarrassing) but instead into his eyes.

Big mistake.

The amused glint you found there made your face flush an even darker shade of red.

You could curse yourself and that you were once again acting like a smitten teenager instead of a soldier in front of your captain.

Trying to gloss over your embarrassment you shook your head, scoffing softly. Then you focused your attention on finishing your work with the bandage.

“I don‘t look at you any differently than I look at other people,” you declared in frustration.

He laughed. Levi Ackerman, emotionally stunted Levi Ackerman laughed. It was quiet and breathy, more likely a chuckle, almost inaudible, too.

But it shook you to your core.

“You have no issue declaring your love to me multiple times a day, but now you‘re getting shy?“ he asked in amusement, cocking his head to the side.

You huffed.

He wasn’t wrong, you were awfully direct with your affections towards the captain. Just like you couldn’t hide your emotions when it came to your face, you were horrible at concealing them in general.

How could you not comment on his strength and attractiveness when it was a blatant fact. Although you often did it in a joking manner, teasing Levi for having the prettiest face in the Survey Corps and acknowledging his skills with the ODM gear.

It wasn’t fair he was using this against you now.

“Shut up!” you grumbled, pulling at the cloth to straighten it out again.

Levi did shut up, although the smile didn’t fall from his face and his eyes watched you work with interest.

You finished quickly, partly because his gaze on you was nothing short of unsettling, partly because you hoped you’d get away before he started full on teasing you.

You couldn’t quite hide your frustration (as already established) and let out an exasperated groan.

“And stop smiling!” you warned, not sure where you’ve gotten the courage to do so.

Levi followed your movements as you picked up the bucket and brought it across the room to empty its contents into the sink.

“Is my smile bothering you? Didn‘t you say i should smile more?“ he asked in confusion.

“Yeah, but just in general. Not when i‘m in the room!“ you corrected him halfheartedly.

The chuckle you got in response made your brain short circuit once again.

How the fuck was this man so hot?

”Any specific reasons as to why, brat?“

You could only speak of luck that your back was turned towards Levi so you could hide the traitorous shade of red your face must be spotting at this moment. There would have been no denying it if the captain had chosen to comment on it.

Knowing him, he would have.

“Shut up.”  you protested again, subtly raising your hands to your face to cool your cheeks a little.

You couldn’t see his face this way but you were sure that Levi put his newfound ability of a smile, maybe even a smirk, judging by the goosebumps you felt on the back of your neck, to use.

While you were busy washing the bucket, Levi got to his feet to study your work in the mirror by the cupboard. He took a few seconds, and you believed he must be sorting the criticism he had by fatality, starting with the least life threatening mistake you made and moving on to the most hard hitting insult.

Despite what you had thought he gave his reflection a satisfied nod.

Okay, what?

“Decent job, brat,” he complimented and yes you might have combusted that moment.

You turned back to the sink, a satisfied smile growing on your lips. Your stomach felt all fuzzy and warm at Levi’s praise.

You didn’t notice the captain approach, only noticing his presence when he was already leaning into your personal space, whispering a soft “Thank you.” into your ear. His hot breath fanned over sensitive skin and you froze in your movement.

To torture you or maybe he didn’t get enough fun out of the situation already, he then proceeded to plant a small kiss to the corner of your lips, missing just enough so it wouldn’t count as a real kiss, before retreating again.

He left the room as if nothing of importance had just happened, leaving you behind, frozen in your spot and heart hammering in your chest.

Levi was already gone when you were able to shake yourself out of the shock.

You carefully touched your cheek, the ghost of a sensation of soft lips against your warm skin still prominent. The memory of him lingering for just a second too long now fresh on your mind.

A huge grin split your face, the urge to jump on the bed and hug your pillow while giggling manically overcame you out of a sudden.

You really were acting like a smitten teenager.

[faelapis]

i wanna talk about characters having “writer clairvoyance,” to borrow a term from lindsay ellis, and how it doesn’t make characters smarter.

one of the most common complaints about... pretty much any piece of media, is that the characters aren’t smart enough. this is often literal, people want the characters to be adequately intelligent and observant to answer their most burning questions, to explain plot points you think bears questioning.

but like... there is such a thing as doing that too much. if people acted irl on the level of writer clairvoyance hyper-awareness some want fictional characters to act, you couldn't walk out the door without someone being like "hang on... why are you carrying a bag? i've never seen you carry that bag before :/"

 let's say you were a fictional character, and something WAS up with the bag. there's a plot-relevant ancient scroll in it which will let any wish you make come true or whatever. 

if you’re the type to care about realism - the vast majority of people irl would not question you carrying a bag. the audience screaming that someone needs to ask about the bag or take it from the protagonist to find the secret scroll? that's because you, the audience, already know about the scroll. 

you have access to information about what’s suspicious or bears questioning - the characters don’t. you screaming that it’s “so obvious” or how “stupid” the characters are doesn’t always mean unrealistic writing. unless the character is acting comically suspicious, there's no reason anyone would think to ask about every little thing. they’re busy living in the world, not solving it.

therefore, as a general rule, i think the reason characters ask questions is more important than asking “enough” questions to satisfy an audience who are approaching this as a mystery to be solved, which the characters aren’t.

also - sometimes, even if a character doesn’t know something, and are aware that they don’t know it... that doesn’t mean every question is worth asking. 

it all comes back to character motivation. not just if they know that there’s something to question here, but do they CARE? is this something the character actually wants to know, or just the audience?

there could also be other factors obstructing a well-placed question. like whether they have know the right person to ask, and feel like the person will answer it.

i’m going to take steven from SU as an example here, because i have seen a couple people acting like he’s this silly naive boy who doesn’t question anything.

number one: he does. quite a lot, actually! 

they’re just questions that make sense to his character - he cares about the questions, and have enough information to ask them - instead of questions only those with 4th wall writer clairvoyance would ask. 

for instance, steven (above) asks the crystal gems to confirm whether his mom shattered pink diamond, because this is something deeply upsetting to him - he wants it not to be true. he wants to believe in a perfect mother idol he can live up to. he questions lapis taking the tower, because he doesn’t think gems should fight each other. he asks bismuth to watch garnet, because he’s naturally worried about her in her current state.

steven tends to ask why people are doing things he thinks are bad, because he wants to believe in them. again, caring about something is paramount to asking. a bunch of random weird magical stuff around him happening, is often as mundane to him as the bag example. he’s used to being weirded out and traumatized, as well as not knowing things. so he’s not gonna question every time a monster shows up. sometimes, he’s just “used” to stuff that the audience thinks he isn’t, because they see him first and foremost as a child.

as in some of the gifs above, steven questioning things can also be subtle - quick moments where his expression shows that he feels or realizes something is wrong, not always as literal questions. in these gifs, he questions what he thought he knew about pink’s shattering, and the surface-level utopian nature of the zoo.

also, there are times when you can tell steven is too frustrated to ask a question, or knows it won’t be answered. this is a big thing in episodes like “steven’s dream” and “lion 4,” where he knows the gems will keep hiding things from him, so he essentially says f you and seeks answers on his own. 

and... he has every reason to think that! there are plenty of instances where the gems chastise steven for wanting to be involved in gem stuff, especially early in the show. on the emotional side, them hiding things insults him, and so, he starts to go behind their backs, against their wishes, and to seek other authorities.

a big theme in a show like SU is also that there is no authority who has the answer to everything, even when you wish there was. 

i think a real issue here is that the audience is frustrated they don’t get to know everything... but the characters don’t either. they just know their own perspective, which is inherently flawed. that is a sublime writing style - a lot of stuff is just implied, perhaps only to be guessed or assumed from the soft worldbuilding, because the world is “bigger” than the characters. this is generally well-done and consistent. it’s thematically sound, how there are no true experts who know everything, or know to question everything in this sassy, ooc way.

personally, i also think it often is better writing to limit a character’s questions, because it shows awareness of the difference between what the audience vs characters know, and their motivations. i think emotion should precede it (and yes, sometimes, characters are too emotionally distraught to notice every little thing, this is normal and doesn’t indicate bad writing.)

it also often just makes for lazy media criticism - well i can think of something the character (living in the moment, stressed out of their mind, trying to survive) should ask, so it’s bad writing that they don’t!

...i’m gonna go ahead and say it would be bad writing if they questioned everything, regardless of motivation, relationships, human flaws, and emotion. 

also, having a character actively ignore their emotions and act like a logicbro is often a defense mechanism to hide how afraid they are of being wrong. ahem.

personally, i can think of more examples of the opposite of “not questioning enough” - the character asks something, or is questioning something in an overbearingly sassy way, and i have no idea why. it seems to just be so the writer can show off how “smart” they are for being right, even if they don’t have a real reason to reach the conclusions that they do. or to be "self-aware,” like making a “wtf, that doesn’t make sense!” 4th wall breaking joke with no subtlety.

i’m guessing a big reason i’ve seen this complaint several times with steven now is that i think the “norm” in cartoons, especially ones with a certain “witty” humor, is leaning towards being too sassy and questioning, beyond what a normal person would ask. this is a big issue with shows like gravity falls and atla - characters will ask things just to show off how smart they are, just for the writer to vent about something they want to question, to ask about plot only the audience would ask about, or just to set up an answer. they often ignore the flow of a scene, or the emotion, because the characters don’t “really” live in the world. they just exist to be sassy / “intelligent.”

often, i’m frustrated that there’s no organic motivation behind a given question, and they’re oft asked far too conveniently - “okay, the shittiest parts of our audience wants to be handheld, lest they call something a plot hole... so we need a scene where a character says ‘x doesn’t make sense!’, so then we can have another character explain why the plot is good, actually.”

so that’s my little rant for today. there are certainly times where something should be questioned and the characters in a given piece of media don’t... but i also think a lot of the time, the audience just has generalized frustrations when they don’t like a show, and are looking for any way to express that. they want to intellectualize it, so they’re grasping for a way to vent about how stupid they think the characters are.

[kaalamarii]

Figure My Heart Out (SatanxGN!MC)

ObeyMax Satan day

Warnings: sex, but not really graphic or detailed. Some jealousy. Mostly just fluff and Satan having feelings. Probably ooc Satan.

Masterlist

It wasn’t the most romantic, MC leaning over the bathroom sink with their underwear around their ankles, legs spread. Satan stood behind them, pants down just enough to let his cock out, slamming in and out of them. He let out grunts and small groans and complaints about whatever it was that was making him feel wrathful today. His fingers gripped MC’s hips, making marks in their skin. 

It all started weeks ago. Satan had been stressed. Starting arguments with his brothers, throwing tantrums when things didn’t go his way, the usual wrath, but worse. It had been going on for a while, and it was making the whole house uncomfortable. The Brothers and MC mostly stayed in their rooms, complaining to each other about the fourth oldest in group messages.

It was something Asmo said in one of those chats that stayed with MC, something they couldn’t stop thinking about. 

Maybe he needs to get laid.

The brothers all blew him off (except Mammon, who replied, “Don’t we all.”), and although MC joined them in laughing about it, they thought maybe there was some truth to it. When Satan was around, whether in class or just around the House of Lamentation, MC couldn’t help but watch him and wonder. He was handsome, they had to admit.

The two hadn’t spoken much since MC got to Devildom. Satan was almost always nose deep in a book, closed off to the world. Not to mention, he always seemed pissed at something or otherwise disinterested in any matters regarding the human. He was friendly enough, but MC definitely didn’t think much of him. They were acquaintances and rarely even thought of each other.

Until that message from Asmo.

After a particularly nasty argument with Lucifer, Satan had stormed off to his room, and MC decided just to go for it. Praying that they didn’t get murdered by the Avatar of Wrath, they got up and followed him.

“Hey, Satan,” they called out, causing the demon to stop and look back at them. 

“What do you want?”

“Oh, um…I wanted to see if you had a book in your room.”

Satan rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “I have a lot of books, you might want to be more specific.”

MC chuckled nervously. “Right. Um, I was hoping for some suggestions.”

Satan didn’t answer for a moment, considering what to say. No, he didn’t really want some stupid fucking human in his room. He was irritated as hell right now, and the last thing he wanted was MC rooting around in his book collection. Though he was always up to talk about books. 

And they looked so pathetic, nervously messing with their clothing and avoiding his eyes, giving him awkward, forced smiles.

Satan sighed and nodded his head toward his bedroom. MC smiled, following the demon in.

“What do you like to read?” he asked, picking up a pile of books off the floor and flipping through them, considering which ones to give to MC.

MC shrugged. “A little bit of everything, I guess. I liked Harry Potter as a kid.”

They looked around his room, shifting uncomfortably. It was annoying. 

“Why are you so nervous?” he asked, handing MC a book. 

MC watched him as he ran a finger along the spines of some books on a shelf. “Sorry. I just...I’ve noticed you’ve been...stressed lately.”

“And?”

“Sometimes when I’m really cranky, there’s certain things that relieve that.”

Satan laughed. “Cranky? I’m the Avatar of Wrath. You being a little fussy when your tummy hurts is not the same as the wrath of a demon.”

“I know. But when I’m stressed, I find that there’s one thing in particular that helps with it.”

“And that is?” Satan crossed his arms, an amused looked on his face.

MC sighed, running a hand over the book he had given them. “Sex,” they uttered.

Satan lost his amused smile, his eyes widening a little. “Excuse me? Did you just say…”

MC nodded. “I wanted to let you know, if you think it’ll help you feel better, you can take your anger out on me.”

“Are you really offering me sex?”

MC held the book up, using it as a shield against the embarrassment. “I was, but that’s stupid, so never mind. Thanks for the book.”

MC turned to leave, their hand on the door knob as Satan spoke up. “Wait.”

They sighed and turned to look at the demon. “Just forget I said anything, Satan.”

MC avoided any eye contact with Satan after that, instead distracting themselves with the book he had lent them. But now it was Satan that was fixating. He found himself watching them read the book that they had borrowed from him. He found the look of concentration they got kind of adorable. He let himself ogle a little when they had dropped their D.D.D. and bent down to get it. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, taking his anger out on the human. Plus, it had been a while.

So when they brought the book back to him, excitedly telling him how they loved it, he cleared his throat, and let them know that if their offer still stood, he accepted. This surprised the human, but they felt a tingle run up and down their backbone at the thought of being in bed with The Avatar of Wrath himself.

Their first time together was a little awkward, nerves getting in the way of them letting loose. Satan, somewhat afraid of hurting the human, couldn’t really get into it. But by their second time, and with a safe word in case Satan got a little too rough, they were both able to enjoy themselves. Each time got better, the chemistry they had together surprising both of them.

Still, there wasn’t anything between them. The two of them still didn’t spend time together outside of their intimate times, besides MC borrowing the occasional book from Satan. Something would piss Satan off, and he’d text MC a location and they’d meet up, fuck, and go their separate ways.

It was an arrangement they were both happy with. Until the day he told MC to meet him in the school bathroom.

He noticed MC slouched against a wall at RAD, giving Solomon flirty eyes as the two humans talked. Solomon leaned into MC, hand on the wall next to their head, and whispered something, making MC laugh and playfully smacked his chest. 

In fact, Satan noticed Solomon around a lot more lately. In MC’s room helping them with homework, walking them to class, eating lunch with them. Satan was getting sick of the stupid sorcerer. 

Each time he saw Solomon, it triggered something in the demon, and he found himself sending that familiar text. 

MC caught on quickly that whenever Solomon was around, Satan called them away, cutting their time with the other exchange human short. They also noticed how every time Satan seemed more emotional. Rougher, more noisy, holding them tighter and tighter. On the other hand, MC noticed they were no longer quickies in Satan’s room before bedtime. Now their time was drawn out. There was more kissing, more touching, more intimacy. Satan would look them in the eyes during, a dopey grin on his face that MC figured he no one else had ever seen, and that he himself probably wasn’t even aware of. 

Truth was, Satan did know how he looked at MC. He tried to stop it, but couldn’t. And he couldn’t ignore the feeling in his chest when he saw them with someone else. This was becoming something more than sex for Satan and as much as he lied to himself, he could no longer evade it. Especially when he saw the way Solomon and MC acted around each other.

Hence, the text, inviting MC to one of the RAD bathrooms.

MC cleaned themself up and jumped up onto the bathroom sink counter they had just been fucked on. They eyeballed Satan as he also cleaned up and tidied his clothing.

“What’s going on with us?” MC asked, surprising the demon with their straightforward question.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. It’s been different lately. The sex.”

Satan’s blonde hair fell in his face as he looked over at the human. “Was it not good?”

“Of course it was. It always is.”

“Then what’s the issue? Are you upset I’m not Solomon?” It slipped out of Satan’s mouth, wrath speaking before he could think.

“I knew it! You’re jealous!”

“I’m not.”

“You are. You think I want to fuck Solomon.”

“Have you?” Satan questioned, his eyebrow cocking.

MC chuckled. “No! And I don’t want to.”

MC grabbed Satan’s arm, pulling them over to the counter and wrapping their arms around him. “I like you.”

Satan hesitated before returning their hug. “I like you too.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Satan grinned, giving the human a kiss. “You’re becoming too brave.”

“And you’re becoming soft.” MC teased, kissing him back.

“Only for you, so don’t tell anyone.”

“It’s a deal if you give me a second round tonight.”

“Deal. But first I want to take you on a date tonight.”

“Wow, an actual date. Can my boyfriend, Solomon, come?”

Satan kissed them again with a growl. “Watch it, human. You know what happens when I get angry.”

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Wish You Were Here (Bakugo x Reader)

A/N: Bakugo x reader, extreme angsty vibes throughout. Pretty OOC i think. Had “Wish you were here” by neck deep in my mind while i wrote this. I cried, folks. Enjoy. (I headcanon that both Todoroki and Bakugo will do their work studies under Endeavour, btw)

word count: 6016

You could call them friends from the beginning, maybe a bit of anger and resentment bubbled up along the way, but how could it not with someone like Bakugo Katsuki in the mix. She never gave up on him though, knowing he would learn and grow into a better person one day. She waited patiently for the catalyst that would humble the boy, just enjoying the time she had with him each day at a time. 

Whether he would admit it or not, he liked her company too. Through all the complaints and angry outbursts, he was always a bit scared that she would be pushed away. Yet time and time again, she forgave him. A few times, people had said to his face that he would never deserve Y/N’s friendship. She was so much better than him, he already knew that. And yeah, maybe he didn’t deserve her. She could be hanging out with someone like Midoriya and be happier than his bitter ass.. 

As he sat beside her in class, waiting for Aizawa to arrive, he couldn’t help but lose himself in thought. 

“Katsuki-kun? You okay?” a soft voice asked. His eyes snapped to the side to see the girl forever on his mind, tapping the pages of their textbook with the end of her pen. Her eyes held curiosity more than any concern. Finding out what Bakugo was thinking about deep in the of his mind was always interesting.

He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, I’m fine. You need something?”

“Not really, just wanted to see something other than a frown on your face, “ she chirped happily, making his cheeks turn a bit red from embarrassment. She always said things like that, all the while with her beautiful lips curled into a sweet smile and eyes half shut. 

He had to admit, she was cute. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Whatever you want to call it. These feelings were...disgusting, he thought.

“Shut up, Y/N.”

“What?! I’m just saying you look ten times better when you’re smiling than scowling at the table like that.” she laughed, turning in her seat so her legs hung to the side and she faced him. Jokingly, she tapped her pen against his cheek and he sunk into his chair even more, trying to hide the mixture of embarrassment and excitement invading his expression. 

“Y/N-chan, quit it. You’re getting on my nerves now.” 

She sighed, leaning back into her personal bubble. “Next week we start our Hero Work-Studies! Aren’t you excited?”

He was actually very excited, even if he failed to express it. He was going to train under endeavour, someone who the public admired for his strength and resilience. Bakugo knew he wasn’t the nicest man-Todoroki had enough evidence to show for that...But that didn’t mean he would pass up the opportunity to learn his heroic ways.

“Yeah, who wouldn’t be?”

“I cannot believe Hawks agreed to work with me! Seriously! He’s one of the coolest out there, not to mention he’s so young and relatable to us. I’ve been jealous since Tokoyami-kun started to work with him. Like come on, I’m just as much bird as them.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised agencies waited this long to pick you. You didn’t do too bad at the Sports Festival last year.”

“It’s only because they were waiting to see me completely annihilate the competition this year. They couldn’t see my true potential then, but now everyone will know me!”

His lips lifted into just a sliver of a grin. She was kinda amazing when she got excited and confident. “No one can hold you back, Y/N-chan.”

“When we graduate, we will both be so strong we will have the best hero agencies.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Y/N reached across to his desk once again, grabbing his hands tightly in hers. His eyes slid around the room quickly to see Kirishima and Denki wiggling his eyebrows in his direction. Stupid idiots. For some reason, the redhead had been trying to force them together in a romantic way for the past two years, and others slowly got in on the drama as well. Bakugo cursed at him in his head, glaring intensely for a short moment before turning back to the girl. 

“I can’t help but be excited, Katsuki-kun. Being pro heroes has been our dream for as long as I can remember and now it’s finally happening.”

“Well, keep training hard and maybe you’ll get there one day. After all, the number 2 hero has already employed you-everything is gonna be easy after this.”  He brushed off her hands and stood from his desk. “Gotta go to the bathroom.” 

He didn’t actually have to go, he just wanted to escape that situation. He liked her a lot, and loved talking to her. It was so weird to him, how happy it made him to see her smile, laugh, and succeed at what she wanted. They were living out their dreams together, and it actually made him happy. 

The only thing is, sometimes, it got to be too much. Just how much emotion she made him feel. He was frustrated at times, and he didn’t know why. All he knew was that he wanted to be around her all the time. He always wanted her to be by his side. She made life easier for him. He could control his temper, but only around her. 

He sighed, slouching against the wall outside the classroom. Aizawa still wasn’t there, so he had some time to relax. Only, he couldn’t because Kirishima waltzed out just to stand right next to him. 

“What do you want, hedgehog hair?”

“When you gonna ask out L/N, huh?” he asked abruptly. “I see the way you two make oogly eyes at each other all day and you being a chicken is so frustrating, bro.”

“That’s none of your business, but to answer your question: never. She’s my friend.”

“Come on, I’m just trying to help you out, dude. Seriously, make a move.”

“Definitely not.”

“Bruh…”

“Listen, maybe I do like her, okay? But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to date her. Relationships just seem so irritating.”

Kirishima laughed, throwing his arm around the hothead’s shoulders. “Trust me, when you kiss her for the first time, you’ll regret not asking her out before.” Bakugo threw his arm off his shoulder and scowled, disgusted by his bluntness. Sure, he had thought about kissing Y/N before, but he never really wanted to act on it that strongly. He especially did not like talking about his feelings. 

He walked back into the classroom, redhead close behind. Now, he would act like nothing was even discussed. He didn’t need this drama right now. He just wanted to keep Y/N happy, and she was more than happy to be his best friend.

Trying to be anything more with her would be a mistake.

______________________________ 

“We’re not supposed to be out this late, Y/N. Do you want to tarnish your perfect record?” the boy asked as she pulled him up the flights of stairs, their feet slapping against the concrete as they ran. She held his warm hand in her smaller, cold one. It was late when she texted him to meet her at the front door, about 2 in the morning. She was lucky he wasn’t sleeping, but she knew he stayed up most nights on his computer anyway.

She took him to the training grounds and pulled him into the biggest building there. His stomach churned with excitement. He loved to be alone with her, especially at night when her quirk was at full power. Her soft wings, although tucked tight against her back, brushed against him and it sent shivers down his spine. So soft.

When they reached the roof, she pushed open the heavy, creaky metal doors. The moon shone so brightly in the sky right above them, illuminating her face in white light. He stared at her as she walked to the bench at the edge of the roof. She was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen before. Her wings expanded as she walked, the moon making them shimmer and glow like silver.

He took a seat beside her on the bench and followed her eyes which stared deep into the night sky, all the stars and the moon. “Don’t you love it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. Just the mood of a winter moon.”

He rolled his eyes. Sometimes she didn’t make sense to him, but that was okay. “Not really.”

“I guess everyone feels differently about things.”

He sighed, leaning back with his arms behind his head and stretched, only to drop them weakly back to his sides. She was so in touch with things he’d never even thought about. She could see the bright side of everything, obviously since she saw the good in someone like him. “I don’t get you sometimes, Y/N. You seem to know everything about me, and you get how I feel, but I have a hard time wrapping my mind around yours.”

She laughed, warm breath clouding in front of her lips. “I can understand your anger, because people genuinely are annoying a lot of the time. But you can’t understand how it feels to be content with what you have. You always want something better, to be stronger or braver than the rest. You can’t comprehend what it’s like to be happy with the best you can do.” Her hand stretched across the bench they sat on, and her fingertips grazed his. Slowly, she slipped her hand under his, relishing in the warmth for as long as he would allow. 

His fingers hesitantly wrapped around her hand, holding tightly as if she would take it away from him. Her hands were always so cold, he remarked, feeling a shiver run down his spine at the feeling.

“I’ll never be good enough, Y/N. I can’t settle as third best to Deku, or even Todoroki. It just pisses me off that they are better than me.”

“Maybe you aren’t as strong as them right now, and maybe you will never be,” she hummed, feeling his intense glare shift in her direction. Her lips curled into a smile despite this. “But to me, you’ll never be second best. You’re my number one hero, forever and always.”

His heart skipped a beat at her words. 

“I’ve known you for so long, and having seen how you are when you’re vulnerable shows me that you are good. You are a hero no matter what people think. There’s no need to take it out on your classmates because they could never compare in my eyes. You are you, and they are themselves. Everyone can have a piece of the glory in the end, even someone as weak as me.”

“You’re not weak, you know.”

With a shrug, she let out a long sigh, “Not really, but thanks.”

“How can you not see how strong you are? You’re on your way to being the sidekick for Hawks. If anything, you’re better than me. You think so highly of me but shit on yourself.”

“I’m not shitting on myself at all. I’m being realistic. I’m okay with being a background character, Katsuki-kun.”

“Whatever. Just know you aren’t a background character to me. Everyone else, fuck them. Just you and me matter.”

Silence overtook the bitter cold air, only gusts of wind to be heard. She let her head fall to the side, temple pressed gently to his shoulder. He was tense beneath her, but that was expected. He wasn’t cuddly by any means; he didn’t even like hugs...But, she felt safe pressed to his side, hand in hand. 

“Do you think we’ll be friends forever?” she asked suddenly. 

He glared at her once again, not knowing why she asked such a stupid question. “What do you think?”

“I promise, no matter what, I’ll never leave you. I won’t give up on you.” The confession only made him feel hot. His hands clammed up with sweat, and he worried she would pull her hand away. She didn’t. “Sure, I get along with other people just fine, but if I’m being honest, all I’ll ever need is you.”

“Y/N-”

The girl didn’t stop to let him speak, the words flowing from her mouth without hesitation. There were so many things she had to say, thousands of words she could use to tell him how much she felt for him. “I think we were meant to meet each other. You and I have something special. It was fate that we ended up here.”

“Come on, that’s kinda crazy, don’t you think?” he argued, trying to make this less awkward. He could feel his heart racing, sweat pooling up, and his cheeks turning a deep shade of red. He liked what she was saying, but it was too much for him. He wasn’t into pouring out his feelings like she was. He was confused, honestly, how to express himself without sounding lame.

“I should have probably told you this a long time ago, but I guess now is just as good as any.” Deep breath in, shallow breath out. “I love you. I think I’ve always loved you, but now I know for sure.”

He couldn’t say anything. He could feel her hurt, the pain of rejection radiating off. No words would come out of his mouth, nothing but hot air. How was he supposed to reply? He felt shocked and embarrassed.

Her hand slid out from his grasp and she stood from her spot on the bench, her vibrant wings wrapping protectively around her torso. Her eyes were filled with regret and shame, but the smile never faltered. She never stopped smiling, even in moments like this. He wanted to tell her it was okay to be upset, that he didn’t mind comforting her. It just wasn’t the right time, he convinced himself. She would walk away and he would be alone in this cold..

“I’m sorry. Let’s just forget about this.” 

He nodded, not daring to meet her eyes. He couldn’t stand seeing the hurt he caused her. And she walked away. 

Maybe he did love her all along. She was the one good thing in his whole life, and maybe he threw that away by not saying anything. He could feel his stomach knotting up and his chest burned with every breath he took. Is this what it felt like to be heartbroken, completely hopeless to the whims of love so deep? 

He pressed his face into his rough hands, groaning into them angrily. Why did he do this to himself? Why couldn’t he just be happy for once in his life? Why couldn’t he let something good slip its way into his life. He hated himself for everything. For being stubborn and rude all the time. For hurting the feelings of the only person who really cared about him. For throwing away what they could have had. He was just so fucking scared of these unfamilar emotions, it overwhelmed him.

So he got up, and he ran. He rushed down the metal staircase with such urgency that he almost fell face first down a couple flights. He couldn’t hear her footsteps in the metal stairwell, and it only made him hurry faster.

But she was gone. He missed his chance.

_____________________________________

“Why aren’t you dancing with Y/N?” Kirishima asked, deciding to take a break from dancing with Ashido and other friends to visit the awkward and angry blond pressed against the wall. For some reason, all the third years were practically forced to come to a dance to celebrate the holidays. To Bakugo, well, he thought it was a load of bullshit. 

He glared over at his classmate. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just I thought you would come to this thing together. You’re really close.”

“Shit happens.”

Kirishima bit his lip, knowing it wasn’t just that. Something happened between the pair. It was their business only, and he wouldn’t pry (no matter how badly he wanted in on the drama). He couldn’t help but say something after seeing Bakugo standing by the punch bowl for nearly an hour and Y/N playing on her phone at one of the tables instead of having fun. It just didn’t seem right to let them ruin their night. 

“Well, you have to fix that shit, bro.”

It was quiet for a second, and the redhead worried he may have struck a nerve somehow.

The blond turned his eyes away from his friend to glance at the girl, who was hunched over a table with her nose in her phone. Earlier, he swore people were sitting with her; they must have left to actually enjoy the dance. Honestly, he felt a bit angry at the others for just leaving her like that, not that he was any better. For a week now, he hadn’t even looked her in the eye.

“You think I should go talk to her?”

“Yeah, probably.”

He didn’t bother saying goodbye, just mumbled a reluctant ‘thanks’ as he shuffled through the dozens of students herded in the center of the gymnasium. Not until he was a few feet in front her table did she notice him staring her down. A small smile perked at the corner of her soft lips, but they both knew it was fake as hell. 

“Aren’t you gonna go and have fun or some shit?”

She shrugged, not knowing what to say, “I’m not really feeling the vibe, I guess.” If she were being honest, she just wanted to stay home curled up in her warm bed in the dark. Her chest ached seeing him and hearing his voice. They were friends after all; she really shouldn’t feel like this. It was her fault for confessing her feelings to someone so stubborn and distant. 

He shuffled nervously, his hands now tucked deep in his pants pockets. His cheeks threatened to betray him once again and stain red, but thankfully it was too dark for anyone to notice. When did he get all shy like this? It was honestly pathetic. This was 100 percent Deku behavior, and he did not approve.

“You wanna ditch this loser-fest with me?”

Should she? Her heart was still healing, but the temptation was too strong. Damn, even after only a week, she missed him so much. With a soft nod, she stood up from the creaky metal chair. The sidedoor thankfully wasn’t guarded by teachers keeping them from leaving so they snuck outside quietly. Immediately, both of them felt relieved to be away from the energy in there. Sweaty teenagers dancing, loud, shitty music blasting, and annoying flashing lights left behind them. 

“Where do you want to go? It’s your choice.”

“Let’s just go to our normal place.”

The walk was silent once again as they made their way to the tall building where everything went down just a week ago. It was still cold, and when they got to the rooftop, the cold wind stung against her exposed skin. Her wings were quick to encase her in their warmth. 

She brushed off the bench and took a seat on the far right side. He slouched onto the left side, keeping his head hung as to avoid her gaze. He was still so afraid, no matter what happened. She was clearly upset with him, and it filled him with so much guilt and regret. For a moment, he dared to look at her. Her eyes were trained on the sky, staring off into the stars and moon like always. 

“You know, it’s been a little hard to smile lately.” Her words crashed into him. 

“I…” Bakugo started but couldn’t think of the right words. “Yeah, I know.”

“I really thought you felt the same way. Maybe that just sounds naive of me, but what you and I had was special. Everyone said so, and I just got a little too confident, I guess,” she confessed with a soft, empty laugh. “My mom kept telling me that you would ask me out, and that we would grow up to be super strong heroes together. She always said, ever since middle school that we were gonna get married. It’s so, so stupid, I know.”

“Y/N, I’m just a fucking coward. That’s the whole reason we are in this mess.”

He met her eyes, ones filled with surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that everything you said was right. That we are meant to be together or whatever sappy stuff you said. I’ve been so depressed since that night, and I’m so mad at myself for acting so stupid,” he muttered angrily, fists clenching over and over in his lap. “I think I do love you. I’m not sure how it’s supposed to feel but I just want to be with you. I don’t want you ever leaving my side.”

“You’re not just saying that to be nice?”

“When have I ever been nice?”

She laughed, scooting over to sit right beside him. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin, and it made him feel more comfortable then he’d felt in a while. Looking down at her, his eyes trailed onto her lips which were just barely agape. They looked sweet, so soft and plump and beautiful. 

When she noticed him staring, she knew what he was thinking. Without warning, Y/N  tilted her head up to press her lips softly against his. Her hands rose to rest on both sides of his face gently, just enough to pull him in even closer. Her lips moved so slowly against his lips; it was agonizing. He wanted more and more, to pull her close to his lips and devour her. It was only one kiss, but he knew he was addicted already. 

His first kiss. Kirishima was right. How did he go so long without her lips on his?

She pulled away just enough to so she could speak, noses touching and foreheads pressed together. “I love you, Katsuki.”

“I think I might love you more.”

_____________________________________

“Something happened to Hawks. We have to go now.”

At first, Bakugo didn’t even connect Hawks to his girlfriend, who was working under his guidance the past year. As they rushed into the district under attack, the adrenaline of the fight made him feel high. He loved this. Being a real hero, saving people and having people look to him as if he were amazing. His quirk was quite flashy and people enjoyed seeing him work. 

The street was in complete and utter disarray. People were hiding in what buildings they could, quivering from the rogue villain storming through the streets. Hawks couldn’t keep up. No matter how great he was, it could be hard and nearly impossible to battle in close combat. His wings ran thin as well.

So it was time for backup. 

Todoroki ran a few yards ahead of him, eyes focused and calm. He was different from the rest of them. He was almost noble. His morals were strict, and he never seemed to lose his cool. As much as it pained Bakugo to say it, Todoroki deserved one of the top spots, maybe even higher than him.

It wasn’t until they turned a corner that the mood changed. The icy hot hero faltered, falling back a couple feet to stumble into his teammate. 

“What the hell-”

“Bakugo, stop. Don’t go any further.” He held a firm hand to Bakugo’s shoulder, but his attempts were futile. Bakugo wouldn’t let anyone hold him back.

“Idiot, there’s no time to fuck around. Let me through.” As his eyes peered over Todoroki’s shoulder at the street ahead, he caught sight of a featherless wing that had been torn to shreds poking out from the rubble. Silver and grey feathers littered the entire street. His breath hitched in his throat. He didn’t know for sure what it was under those rocks, could just be a bird, right? Just some random fucking bird. That’s all. 

It couldn’t be.

“Bakugo-”

The blond pushed past him, stumbling over his own feet as he recklessly ran through the rocks. It only got worse when he saw blood splattered across the pavement. It was getting more and more obvious what had happened here, but he denied it over and over in his head. There was no way it was her. She was strong, her mentor was even stronger, one of the very best. There’s no way he would have let something happen to his prodigy. 

But just behind the rocks laid her body. Blood seeped heavily from the back of her head, and her hair was matted with the thick liquid which had dried to a deep brown. Her wings were sparse, if even there, only a dozen or so feathers on each side, blood coating them as well. 

“No, no, no.”

He fell to his knees beside her body. Her eyes stared up at him, empty and lifeless; they were so cold like something out of a nightmare. When he reached down to lift her body up from the ground, he shivered at the lack of warmth from her skin. He propped her up on his knees, one arm supporting her back and neck. His other hand slid across her face, smearing blood on her cheek. 

“Y/N? You better wake the fuck up,” he whimpered, shaking her body as if that would somehow help. “Wake up, baby, please get up. Stop, god, please stop being stupid”

Todoroki approached him from behind, sitting next to him on the bloody ground. His eyes stared at the cold body, haunted by the face of his friend, someone he grew up beside these 3 years, limp and dead. He looked over to Bakugo, who he knew to be attached at the hip with the girl for who knows long. He had never seen the boy cry, but he sensed the tears starting to boil over. 

Hopelessly, he continued to shake her softly. “Y/N-chan, please. Please wake up. God, please wake up. I can’t do this without you. Please, please, please.” His desperate begs fell on deaf ears though. No amount of pleading could change her fate, and both of them knew that. 

“Let’s bring her body to the medics, okay? Maybe they can help,” Todoroki soothed, placing a gentle hand on Bakugo’s shoulder. He knew it was useless. She was dead, but the thought of her maybe having a chance made it easier for Bakugo. The blond could only nod, still staring down at his lover through clouded, teary eyes. He lifted her into his arms, cradling her head to his chest. 

Bakugo couldn’t stop crying. He just sobbed, continuing to quietly beg the girl to wake up, cursing and choking on his grief.

Todoroki knew they might be scolded later by his father for not helping in the battle, but this was one of the rare cases they could put aside being heroes and let someone else take over. The grief was too heavy of a burden to fight anyway. 

She was gone, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

_____________________________________

Bakugo was different after the accident, maybe even worse than before in a way. He didn’t yell at nearly as many people anymore, usually staying silent even if someone offended him. He was fond of walking away now, from anything and everything that pissed him off. It was like he didn’t have the energy to fight back anymore. 

It was depressing to those who noticed the little things he often did. Shinsou, who recently joined the hero course, sat in the seat beside Bakugo, where Y/N used to sit. Everytime he thought of something funny to say, a joke to crack about Midoriya or something in their lesson, he looked to the side for Y/N. Every time though, he met with the unamused, dark circles of the boy. His cheeky smile would fall into a deep grimace every time. 

He looked for her when he was upset, not knowing how to channel his negative emotions anymore. He yearned to sit in her dorm at night and hug her until he fell asleep. He looked for her in the hallways and every crowd he passed, just praying that miraculously she was alive again, that this was all some sick dream.

It hurt to be reminded time and time again that she was gone. Y/N was never coming back, the words echoed in his mind every day. She was dead, brutally died at the hands of a villain, He could picture her body, disfigured and lying in the street, blood soaking the pavement. He never got to say goodbye either. 

Her mentor apologized time and time again to her family and her friends, guilt heavy on his back. He never imagined her, someone so strong and powerful to die, especially under his supervision. Hawks would never take another student as his apprentice, he couldn’t, not for a long time. 

Nowadays, the class almost felt like they missed his hotheaded nature. He was just depressing now, and it killed the mood. Y/N was the only one who could make him smile.

He walked down the hall alone, heading back to the dorms once again after a long day of feeling sick to his stomach with a massive headache pulsing in his temples. Footsteps caught up to speed with him, and he peeked over his shoulder to see Midoriya, followed by his precious little girlfriend. 

A sour taste filled Bakugo’s mouth. He could tolerate the others. Todoroki, Denki, Kirishima. But he really didn’t want to talk to these two. Anyone but them. 

“Bakugo, wait up!” Deku called, not that the blond listened. He kept walking, trying not to explode on the guy. Couldn’t they tell that he just wanted to be alone? “We have to talk to you, just wait and listen.”

“What do you want?”

“Bakugo, are you okay?” Uraraka asked softly, and he grit his teeth.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine,” Deku argued, grabbing Bakugo’s forearm after catching up. Angrily, he yanked his arm away from the boy, and took a few steps away from the pair, glaring at them as if a single look could drive them away. “Listen, we know how you are feeling. We all miss L/N. She was a great friend.”

That was the tipping point for him. How could they compare their pain to his? It pissed him off.

“Oh, fuck you. Fuck you both, really.”

“Stop acting like you’re the only one hurt by this. I grew up with Y/N, too. If you have to mourn, let other people do it with you. It makes it easier.”

“You know as well as  I do that you didn’t care about her as much as me. None of you knew her like I did,” he muttered, trying his best not to let the tears fall again, or the stutter in his voice to reveal itself.  He wasn’t weak. He was fucking mourning. “Think of it like this, okay? What if someone were to kill Uraraka right now? Imagine having to look into her dead, lifeless eyes. Imagine seeing the entire street splashed with her blood. Imagine reaching down to hug her only to feel icy cold skin against yours, and her face is green and grey like some kind of monster, not your precious Ochako. And there is nothing you can do. Not a damn thing.”

And to that, the pair of do-gooders had nothing to say. 

“It’s all I can fucking think about. I can’t even fall asleep without seeing her dead eyes staring back at me. I miss her so much, and none of you can understand.”

“I’m sorry. We know she meant a lot to you.”

“She was all that I had! She was the only person who ever made me really feel something, anything other than anger. I loved her more than anything and she loved me back,” he choked on his words, tears welling up in his eyes. “She was my baby. My beautiful princess. I don’t know how to function without her.”

Uraraka sighed, trying to find something good in all of this despite there being nothing at all. “She’s in a better place, Bakugo.”

He clutched at his shirt right over his heart, which beat rapidly in his chest. “But a better place is right here with me! We belong together, not apart. It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he cried, unable to bite back his tears. “I’ve called her phone a million times since she died, just so I can hear her voice. I’m terrified that one day her phone will be shut off forever and I’ll forget what she sounds like.”

Her clutched at his shirt tightly, feeling pain in his chest again. He felt like he was having a heart attack. Sometimes the heartbreak was so strong.

 “All these pictures on my phone of her, they just remind me that she’s never coming back! She’s gone forever, and I don’t know what to do. How do I make it stop hurting so fucking much? I feel like I’m dying, god it hurts.”

Sobs shook his body as he hid his face behind the crook in his elbow, trying to sop up all the tears. But, he knew they wouldn’t stop. He didn’t know why he was telling them this, revealing this side of himself in front of them, but he hadn’t had the time to vent about the whole situation. 

“The last thing she said to me was that she loved me,” he cried, pressing his arm to his lips and sobbing into them. He was hysterical, especially for someone so brutal like him. “I’ll never get to tell her I love her ever again. We will never get married. Become pro heroes together like we always wanted. I’ll never get to see her smile or hug her against my chest again. It’s all over, dammit.”

“Bakugo, I’m so sorry. If you need anyone, we’re here for you.”

“I just miss her so fucking much.”

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and he turned his head to see who it was. “Bakugo, listen to me for a minute. Wipe up your tears for a second,” the deep, tired voice demanded. Sad, exhausted eyes stared down at him, but he could feel the empathy their teacher held.

“Aizawa-sensei?”

“The only thing that can help you now is time,” he explained. “We risk a lot as pro-heros. It’s gonna hurt a lot for now, maybe forever, I don’t know. But the only thing you can do is let time pass and the pain in your heart will dull.”

“I just feel so pathetic. I can’t help but think it should have been me. I wish it was the other way around so badly. I should have died instead, so she could be happy.”

“Do you really think Y/N would’ve been happy if she lost you? You think she wouldn’t cry everyday, and hug your pillows and clothes just to feel close to you again? For her to suffer?  Really? If you really loved Y/N, you wouldn’t consider breaking her heart like that.”

“I-I…” Bakugo choked. “What do I do now?”

“What you need to do is make Y/N proud. She would want the best for you. All she ever wanted was to see you smile after all.” Aizawa was right, no matter how hard it was to accept the fact. Bakugo would have to live for Y/N.

[singeramg]

Are you still doing request for your 500 followers celebration ? If you are I would like to request Nr 4 “Is there a reason you are here?” With Walter Marshall 😊

Oh wow, it seemed this one was supposed to be easy and short. Nope. Didn’t happen that way so here’s part one of three. I hope that you like it and thats much for participating in this!

Title: The Heart Fate Breaks - Part I

Rating: M

Pairing: Walter Marshall ( Nomis/ Night Hunter) / Reader!

Warnings: ANGST!, Implied Alcohol Abuse, Mentions of illegal activity, implied depression, deception, kidnapping, descriptions of violence, but not completely detailed, loss of pregnancy, and of course smut.

A/n: This is my first attempt at Walter Marshall so if he seems to ooc, then let me know ( kindly please), Also there are gifs scattered through this piece and that is because that is how I am imagining him aging throughout the story. Sorry if seeing other Henry Characters throws you off too bad. If I get too many complaints about it I will take them out. Thanks for giving this a chance

Part 1: The end is always closer than you think: 

      This had been a long time coming. Fated is a word many would put to it. You’d spent so much time crying over this man, imagining what the reaction would be once you saw him again that you lost many nights of sleep. Nobody knew the hurt you felt when you realized that all of it had been a lie. That you meant nothing to him. A pawn in a lengthy game of chess all to catch someone else in his net.

You met Marshall back when you were both young, a 18 year old and a 20 something that was still trying to figure out the world. You a young idealistic type, determined to get away from a bad home life and he came in as the bad boy, riding his motorcycle, leathered up, a chip on his shoulder ready to prove to the world he was bad ass, but one look at you and he softened like a stick of butter.

Flashback:

        It had been a typical Friday night. It had been one of your first college parties at least as an actual student. It had been a night of being deemed the Freshman-Fresh Meat and it seemed everywhere you turned some frat was trying to paw you in some misplaced sense of entitlement. You rebuffed many and sent them away holding your drink in hand. You’d gotten bored as the roommate you’d came with didn’t have the same ideals of coming into the party together and leaving together as your phone just dinged with a ‘don’t wait up’ text message from her. You saw a few familiar faces from your Chem. Class, and after a few moments of small talk, you were ready to go back to your dorm, and would have done except, he walked through the door.

He was the type of guy that made you pay attention to him with his tall stature and natural curls, clearly confident, despite having a baby face he was certainly older, and he somehow commanded attention and respect. It was definitely a turn on.  Clearly, you weren’t the only one who noticed him as the sorority girls and other randoms from the party were conveniently finding themselves in his path. You found it interesting that he did it so smoothly, a wide smile and some sort of flirting behavior that got them to move and let him walk through the crowd. Some girlish part of you wanted him to notice you. You wanted him to see you above all the petty makeup and unclothed bodies. It was unlikely to happen so just as you tossed back the rest of the beer from your red solo cup, losing  sight of the gorgeous man and settled for tossing the cup in the overflowing trash. You give a few halfhearted goodbyes as you head for the door but in a twist of fate, you trip over something random on the floor, well actually it was more like something was wet on the floor, but you lose even more chances of staying on your feet, by running into someone else who’d been dancing, he turns around pissed but the missing bad boy catches you in strong arms and defuses it rather quickly.

“Can’t let the prettiest girl in the room crack that face can I?”

His ego is evident in his words. It makes your eyes roll and you straighten up. Removing his hands from your hips, you dust off and step back, not letting yourself become intimidated by his height over you. You put on your armor of fake confidence when faced with an undetermined outcome of a situation.  At your attempted step back he steps forward, not giving you a chance to avoid his cologne and damn him if he didn’t smell like fucking woods, and warmth and everything you liked. You ignore the errant thoughts of climbing him like a tree and push him back, but his grip only loosens, doesn’t actually release you.

“No but maybe she will crack yours if you don’t back up.”

He tosses his head back, loose curls falling away from his face, you bite a sigh at the jawline again.

“Awe is that how’d you repay a man just trying to help?”

He steps even closer but you don’t move back this time.

“Usually no, but for you I’d make an exception.”

“Here I was thinking I’d get a thank you.”

“And I was thinking I’d get personal space. Do you want me to pat you on your back, maybe a cookie?” You know you sound patronizing, but you don’t care. You weren’t ready to give up the ghost yet.

“ I’d settle for your name?”

You can’t deny the big blue eyes that were trying to form something substantial between the two of you.

“It’s Y/N.”

“A beautiful name for the equally impressive woman in front of me.” He is laying it on kind of thicker than you normally go for, but you find yourself unable to turn him away.

“Shouldn’t you return the favor?”

“ Marshall...Walker.”

He offers you and you say to him,

“ Now that we’ve got past the hard part, I must ask Is there a reason you are here? You know still in my face” noting that he was still holding you lightly, He dazzles a wide smile, sharp pointed canine teeth that screams he wants to make you his prey.

“Maybe I am just not ready to let you go.”

The cheesy line works and  you let him take your hand to get another drink.

And so it began...

*End Flashback

       He fell into the place as your protector, nobody ever dared to put their hands on you when he was around, nobody in your terrible family ever even let you see the dark side to what they did again. Mostly.

You weren’t stupid you knew they had been dealing and apart of gang activity for years, but honestly it kept you safe from a lot of outside forces, it just didn’t protect you from the inside.

You were in your 30s now. A decade and a half between the first time you met him and now, you’d made peace that you had done everything you could to escape the feeling of being utterly alone in the world. You were tired. You were tired of putting on a brave face, tired of setting your own standards so high that if by chance anyone could connect you to your family they’d know without a doubt that you managed to land a whole field away from the tree.

You’d had relationships since Marshall but despite everything you couldn’t find that connection in anyone else. The colors had faded with the hurt, leaving behind whispers of memories of time you’d never get back. The memories always hurt when they crashed into you. The late night walks along the creeks and bridges, the talks that lasted hours without trying, how he’d been so gentle in being your first, the way he held you in his arms every time the world got to be too much.

*Begin Flashback #2*

It was a warm summer night, thankfully a breeze came across that made the muggy night just bearable. Marshall had hit it off enough with your family that they had basically adopted him into the fold.

Well everyone except your mother, but she didn’t truly like anyone so it was no surprise he shot thinly veiled insults at Marshall, and he took it like a champ for the sake of loving you.

He worked for them, but maintained a job at the docks too, to help them. Having found time away from his job down at the docks to spend what he could with you made you feel above it all.  He gave you those butterflies in your stomach, made you feel like you could accomplish anything. Despite him getting into the family business he was only doing that so that he could make enough money to take you away from this life. He’d listened when you explained how your family lived and how you tried so many times to get away but they always tracked you down and dragged you back. They barely wanted you to go to college but you’d let them know that if they wanted you quiet then letting you continue your education your way was the only option. You family had always teased you for wanting more but Marshall didn’t. He encouraged everyone of your dreams and pushed you even when you didn’t think it was possible. His duality was astounding for you to witness because he never let anything happen when you were with him, the epitome of strong, quiet, powerful type, a man of very few words, but you always knew he cared. He made sure you wanted for nothing. So when enough time had passed in your mind, you felt he was worthy of your ultimate prize.

Not a decision to come to lightly but you decided that tonight you would give Marshall what many had been hoping to get from you as a means to controlling you or to say they had the untouchable Princess of the local mob family. So many had wanted for you to choose them but you knew it was meant to be Marshall.

So here you were a warm borderline  muggy summer night, spending time just outside the city in the field of a farm in Marshall’s old beat up pickup that he used for transportation, but now cleaned out and blanketed with old comforters and pillows, he’d gotten you away from the chaos of your world, somewhere no one could interfere and ruin it, and made you feel like it was just you and him.

His touches on your body were delicate as he hovered over you, small kisses and few drinks led to heavy petting and an understanding of what you wanted for yourself.

Marshall was it.

Strong hands slide up your heated flesh leaving goosebumps in their wake, folding into your hair, his body pressing yours into the bed of the pickup. Marshall kisses down your neck, peeling the fabric of your sundress off, his following yours, maybe not with the full grace of his hands because yours were shaking, but making eye contact once you lay before him assured you that this was the right choice. The right moment and when he grinds into you, making you hiss and buck into his hardness you pull him down by his curls and kiss him again. Letting him steal your breath away as he always managed to do as he pushes into you, only moments after making you climax on his tongue and fingers, beard burn forming from the stubble he was refusing to shave, from him tasting what you’d been so willingly open to giving him.

“Just breathe. Let me take care of you baby girl.”

You just hold on tightly to the back that has been putting on muscle steadily, as he kisses the side of your face, wiping tears off your skin with such a delicate touch,  and eventually the pain gives way to pleasure. Holding his body against yours, thrusting into you, alternating passionate kisses on your swollen lips to your neck and chest, and letting his hands move all over you once he takes note of you calming down. He feels like he is almost too much, but he just keeps encouraging you. You are making pitiful noises but it just encourages his movement. He knows exactly what to say too as your body gives way to him.

“There’s my girl opening up for me. Taking me all in.”

He grinds for emphasis, pushing his thickness into you harder than he had been and then you moan in his ear again. Soon he is steady, but he is driving you mad, with pleasure. You mildly wondered what had taken so long to experience this, but you also know it wouldn’t be like this with anyone but him.

“M...Marshall yes.”

You feel your walls pulsing against the cock inside of you, trying to force the largeness out of forgein territory but he stays exactly where you need him, even stopping as he pushes you both toward a force stronger than both of yourselves.

“You feel so good...”

His words are like honey pouring over you slow...

*End Flashback*

     It had been more than what you expected. Past the feelings of just lust, he made you feel like nothing could go wrong in this world. The hatefulness of your world, your family felt like nothing in his arms.  

He made you feel like you could do anything.

That had been years ago and now you hated him for it.

You had worked so hard not to feel this weak again but one flash of his picture, years aged came across your TV screen as he received commendation from the mayor had been enough to set you on edge. You don’t know this Walter Marshall.

The longer hair and a thicker beard, he almost doesn’t look familiar, but his eyes. His eyes always gave him away to you. He’d never been able to lie to you with them and his smile.

Turned out those had been the biggest lie of them all.

You’d taken your fair share of losses over the years but you’d also gained. You’d gained a hard earned degree in social work, you’d gained a job that had taken you around the world on missions to save kids, you’d accomplished so much and yet it meant nothing because the feeling of loneliness still persisted. You just purchased a beautiful home far removed from the wasteland of empty feelings and space  you grew up in but it had no life. It had no life because that life had been stolen from you so long ago.

So you go out to have a drink, maybe find a warm body to help you forget the way you felt, but somehow 1 drink turned into only one more but for some reason your head was spinning. You’d know this wasn’t you. You could handle your drinks, but by the time you could mention to anyone that it was sinister doings you were hogtied in some weirdo that had been at the bar basement. It was dark, and cold as you shivered against the concrete. The musk of wood and old damp space invaded your senses as the clothes tied around your mouth stole all the moisture from your mouth and you tried yelling to no avail. The basement door opens the weirdo comes down, his heavy weight no match for yours as he lifts you up from the floor, you kick, you scream, you fight, but he manages to drag you across the floor and down a hallway in that same basement that seems to go on forever, the end is a room. This room has a light but you wish it didn’t. The mattress is filthy and stained in various fluids that you don’t want to name. You mildly wonder if this is how you die.

How many had been in this exact same position as he handcuffs you to the gunmetal colored frame and it shakes barely holding onto your weight. You felt your face wet but you almost didn’t register that they were your tears until a raspy yet cold “my pets don’t cry. Unless I make them.”

You have to be shaking by now as the realization sets in that this was beyond simple murder, maybe beyond rape, he intended on torturing you until you thought death was the gift. You screw your eyes shut, memories of one of the other times you felt worse take over your brain and with no distractions as you normally have, you fall in head first to your own personal hell...

Begin Flashback 3

      It had been a year with Marshall. A full glorious year of just being with him and him protecting you from your family. He’d sat with you through various holidays, played nice with your brothers and father, while working his way up the ranks to where now he was one of the most trusted in the organization. You never questioned how he did it, only that he came home to you. You’d moved in together about two months ago, against the wishes of your mother who didn’t think much of her daughter. In fact she had it made up in her mind that you thought you were better than them, that you were hateful and spiteful when in reality all you wanted was freedom.

You wanted the freedom to love and do what you wanted, not be judged by the legacy of blood your family left in its wake.

You’d only wanted him and Marshall made sure you knew he felt the same. He had a cold streak that could frighten some of the deadliest men you knew. How one look could shut them down and if it didn’t get shut down he...took care of it. However you two were about to embark on a whole new journey.

Parenthood.

Not that he knew. You’d only just figured it out yourself with a handful of home pregnancy tests and then a blood test with your doctor. You loved your child already and he’d talked about a family with you but the time right now was all off, but you knew the kind of man he was would do what he could for you. It wouldn’t be easy but the motto had always been “together”. It didn’t make you any less scared to be a mom which is why despite your strained relationship with your own you went to her for advice.

The house looked and felt just as it did growing up. A large home full of beautiful things but coldness. The lack of cars told you that the rest of your family wasn’t home, which was exactly what you didn’t want. If your father and brothers found out before Marshall, they wouldn’t care how much money he made them, they’d make his life a story of regret from the day he saved you from a face plant at the party. No you had to break the news, but you needed some advice. So you walk in, following the smell of white diamonds perfume your mother loves, up to the grand master bedroom. Taking off your shoes and the maid, takes your coat.

You almost laughed as you walked into the hallways of the house. Before your family transitioned into major players of the drug scene, you remembered the simpler times of a small house, fenced in porch that your grandma would sit on drinking tea and reminiscing as she told you stories about her childhood. Your mom is actually caring about what you wanted and needed. It had been a simplistic time, blissfully unaware of what your father did, your brother just going into high school, and the care of your mother was probably the reason you were pacing outside her bedroom door now.

You knock on one side of the white french doors and wait for an answer like you were taught to do, sweeping your feet across the soft carpet in small half circles.

“Come in Y/N.”

You smirk and open the door , following the light from her en-suite bathroom to where she was sitting at the vanity, putting the last touches on her full face of makeup.

“How did you know it was me momma?”

She laughs at you, a sharp smile on her face, framed by delicate laugh lines, still beautiful on the outside even if you knew how ruthless she could be with what she wanted. You hoped that the joy of a new grandchild would overshadow that you weren’t married to the father first. That he wasn’t some guy of high standing that she’d envisioned married you off to.

“You’ve been fidgety since you were a child, your brothers only knock if it’s an emergency AND your father was here, which considering what he has going on today home is the furthest thing from his mind. Honestly it never is even or normal days dear, but never the less I know you well enough that you aren’t here for just pleasantries.”

So you sigh and look down into her eyes, only because she was still sitting down, but you still felt like a child. Magically, it takes her only a minute and 17 seconds before her eyes widen and she looks at you.

“Oh my goodness *Your full name Here* you are pregnant.”

At her words you drop to your knees at her feet, much like a small child she lets you put your head in her lap as the relief of someone other than your doctor knowing about the life inside of you. She pats your head soothingly and you feel for the first time that she is on your side.

“It’s okay sweetheart. We will be okay, everything will be okay. We can make this go away. Nothing has to change.”

You look up at her this time, confusion filling your eyes and you shake your head.

“No... no that...that’s not...momma that’s not why I care here.”

She looks at you and scoffs, not caring as she stands up.

“Don’t be foolish Y/N. You are still a child yourself.”

You pull yourself to your feet, wiping the tears from your face. Ready to rebel against her thoughts of what you could be and what you were.

“I am not a child mother. I am 21.”

“You are not ready for a child.”

“Is anyone ever really?” You say with an off handed attitude that she clearly doesn’t appreciate. She steps around the chair to get closer to you.

“You most certainly are not. Besides what about all these lofty plans you made for yourself. You are the one who just HAD to go college. We spent all this money for you to go and you want to toss it away by having a child with nobody who can barely afford that hovel you live in much less a whole child.”

Angry she tossed a hand in the air in disbelief of her decision.

“We both do just fine...”

“You do just fine because of us. He works for us. We allowed this to go on for as long as possible because he seemed to keep you out of trouble and more or less distracted. He promised us he would keep you safe, make sure you knew what it means to be with someone in this lifestyle as a true partner, so that when the time comes to let you go to someone worthy...”

“You are lying! You will say anything to get me to do what you want. Marshall loves me and he will love this baby.”

“What did I just say child?! He cannot love you, because if he did he would know this would only hold you back. Your father and I have so much to show you, to give you the keys to be comfortable in such ways we never had growing up and you want to toss it away for a glorified errand boy!”

“ So this is just about control. Just like you always do. You can’t stand to see me happy unless you are the one holding the puppet strings. Well you know what...I am done. All of this is done! Marshall and I raise this child and will be everything that you hoped we failed at. I promise you will never see this child if this is how you view us.”

You turn quickly, determined to get as far away from her as possible, tears in your eyes, you were determined not to let her see you cry anymore. She no longer deserved that part of you.

“Goodbye Mother.”

She says reverting the formal manners she’d paid through the nose for you to develop. She let you get a few down the steps before you hear her race after you.

“Wait! Y/n please wait!”

The pleading tone was new and unexpected for you. You hadn’t heard the tone used for anything other than in childhood when begging your father not to do something stupid. You had never heard her use it in reference to you. She sounded heartbroken and is why you stop. She runs behind you, a step above you as you turn with tears in her eyes.

“I am sorry, Y/N please don’t leave like this. I just worry for you. You are my only daughter and suddenly my little girl isn't a little girl. I didn’t handle it well.”

You turn with a small smile and look at the soft look on her face. Once again not seen much since childhood, but it wasn’t forced.

“ No you didn’t but I guess we can give you a second chance to get it right.”

She wraps both arms around your shoulders and you both let her, touching her hands with a soft pat.

“So tell me, baby doll does anyone else know about this gift yet?”

You feel yourself beaming at her interest, the childhood nickname making you preen, excited that you would have guidance and maybe even get back the mother you’d been missing since you moved into this house.

“No. Actually not even Marshall, I came over hoping you’d give me some advice on how to tell him. I am so nervous.” You say walking slowly because you weren’t close enough to hold onto either side of the railing on the large stairs.

“Oh don’t worry sweetie, I think that will be the least of your worries...”

You turn to look at her but her smile is gone and a strong shove sends you careening down the rest of the steps, terror fills your veins and you panic, your life flashing before your eyes, things you did, things you never got to say. Only sounds of your screams echoing in the foyer. You hear your mother's footsteps as your head spins as you land.

She yells for help, but before anyone can come she leans down and says

“I did this for you.”

You feel the room spinning as you fight to keep consciousness so you could tell someone...anyone about what she did. Just as a maid turns a corner, the front door blasts open with a battering ram. Cops swarm in and you are surrounded, your mother taken to the floor along with unsuspecting maids.

“Help me.”

You manage to breathe out just as you give into the wall of blackness and let yourself fall asleep.

Besides it was more comforting there than knowing your mother had just tried to kill you and your unborn child...

*End flashback 3*

You lost everything that day. Your world shattered on the floor of that marbled foyer and somehow that fear was more than what you felt right now. You wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you cry again. Of breaking you down to that debased state again.

Turns out that wasn’t good enough for your captor. So he provided the physical pain that gave him the tears he wanted. He wanted to remind you that you had no one who actually gave a damn. Maybe death this way was better.

You could be with the one person who hadn’t left you by volition.  You were once again facing that wall of unconsciousness but this time you were tired. Tired of life. The amount of energy it took for you to live was excruciating.

Without him.

Downright impossible.

You should know. You’d tried. So through your muffled whimpers as the weirdo finally decides he’s spilled enough of your blood and has reached where he can get it up enough to desecrate you.

He is climbing over you, the smell of hard liquor pouring from his pores and gross breath and he gets in your ear about how beautiful he thought you were as if that was supposed to endear you to him. You wake up just enough not to just lie there you start fighting back and he smacks you on an already swollen pain, but you fight even more. That bit of fight in you, won’t let this man break you. So you pull against the bindings and try to make it so he has no footing but he starts laughing more.

“There’s the fight. You were getting boring dear. Now... now... now... you really got potential.”

You pray for the ending as he grinds on you but another harsh sound comes as his weight disappears and in the red dim lighting of the room you hear and see the outline of a struggle. Two men fighting for domination of the other but  you didn’t know who would win, though it seemed your rescuer had some height over your captor. A few well placed punches and a hard kick to the stomach and your result is standing to his feet, wiping his mouth and you guessed handcuffing the weirdo.

“ Detective Marshall, Full breech, victim is alive, one suspect in custody, medical request for full evac on suspect and victims.”

No.

The voice. Your obvious head injuries were playing a trick on you.

He fumbles around the dirty room and manages to find the light switch and it hurts you so your eyes slam shut and squeeze tight as a way to protect you and also so that your mind doesn't have to reconcile the voice to the face.

One of many reasons you went out drinking alone in the first place.

He walks over to the bed and helps untie you and you whimper as the blood returns to your wrists and your eyes open to find Marshall sitting in front of you. He brushes blood from your face, and tilts your head up, finally making eye contact as you begin to get cloudy headed again because despite your conscious feelings about him, your body still knew it was safe.

“Y/N?” He sounds as if he’s seen a ghost, and honestly it probably was like a ghost.

“Marshall please don’t leave me.”

Your torso falls forward onto his and strong arms wrap around you and you finally sob yourself into unconsciousness....

A/n: So as always I am requesting opinions! I hope this wasn’t too triggering for anyone and that you are excited for the next two part which hopefully should be up in the next few days, as they are in the editing stage. 

If you feel so moved reblog, like, comment, follow.

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