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silvermarley · 10 months ago

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can u do Sanemi or giyuu fucking reader stupid because she said his scar or eyes were beautiful

Love this idea 🫶🫶 this seems more on the Sanemi side of things, so I’m gonna do him!! :)

Beauty in Your Scars

Sanemi x Reader

Warnings: smut, rough (but passionate), cursing, unprotected sex, fem!reader, modern-ish but demon slaying is still a thing, a hint of a breeding kink, dirty talk

WC: 2.8k (I got carried away)

Sanemi isn’t the type to receive compliments often, as his appearance intimidates most resulting in him not getting used to them. Even when he got with you, he became a flustered mess.

His scars were something that pushed most away. He was by no means ashamed of them, but he didn’t exactly find them the most appealing either.

Sanemi did like the fear that came with them though, and how even some demons would hesitate to attack just looking at them.

You two have been together for over a year, and you hadn’t yet talked about his scars. You didn’t know if it was a touchy subject or anything, so you never pushed.

Even so, you couldn’t help but admire the way it makes him look so much more masculine. Something about them never failed to attract you more. That being said, it wasn’t good seeing new ones when he would come home from a particularly difficult mission.

You were a retired demon slayer, so you understood getting injured comes with the job, even if it wasn’t ideal. Although, it’s not too often he gets injured because of his immense power and skill in wind breathing.

You were “retired” because after Sanemi had gotten attached to you, he quickly began insisting you leave the corps. Saying “it’s for your own good,” or anything he could think of to get you to leave. Eventually, you did. And he couldn’t be happier (he would never tell you that though).

Now, he gets to do the dirty work while his beloved stays at home and greets him when he comes back. Although you two have been together for a long time, he still struggles at expressing his love, so he can come off as strong sometimes. Not that you mind.

One afternoon, he comes home after a stressing mission. “I’m home.” He calls out as usual.

You peek from around the corner of the hallway and walk to him. “Hey, ‘Nemi! How did your mission go?”

He grunts, placing his katana in its place on the wall. “Fucking stressful.” He sighs, his voice laced with frustration.

Though, he couldn’t stay upset when he was finally home. When he finally gets to see you. The one who then kiss his cheek in response, “Ah.. sorry to hear that. Do you want me to make your favorite?” You grin.

The corners of his lips turn up ever so slightly as he nods. When he’s upset, he becomes more quiet as to avoid saying something he would regret to you. If there was anyone he would never want to hurt with his attitude, it’s you. He finds his way into the living room and with a (what felt like a) heavy body, he plops onto the couch.

You happily go into the kitchen to gather the materials for ohagi. You knew the recipe like the back of your hand at this point. It was your favorite thing to do for him after his missions.

After making it, you place them on a plate and make it look presentable. You hum to yourself, before carrying it to where Sanemi was sitting.

“Here you go!” You hand it over to him and then sit yourself next to him.

He quickly takes a bite and sighs contentedly. He can’t help his small but noticeable smile as he chows down on the food. You just cuddled up next to him, occasionally looking up to admire him. The show on tv wasn’t all too interesting to you now as you were enamored by his beauty even while eating.

Once he finished his meal, he placed the plate to the side table. “It’s always good.” He remarks as he moves his hand to your waist, pulling you closer to his side.

“‘m glad you think so.” You manage to snap yourself out of it as you reply.

He looks down at you as you stare at him. “Something wrong?” He asks.

You shake your head. “Just admiring you.”

His cheeks turned a rosy hue. “..Is that so?” He cleared his throat.

“Mhm,” you say as your hands trace some of the scars on his arm, “I was just thinking about how beautiful these make you look.”

There’s silence from him for a moment. As you glanced up once more to see if you said something wrong, you see something in his demeanor had changed. “..’Nemi?”

His grip tightens on your waist. “Don’t say things like that all of a sudden..” he muttered.

You caught on to his tone, how it was warning you, not just telling you. “Why? It’s true.. they’re pretty.” You assured.

He mumbles a “Fuck..” as he is suddenly on top of you, breathing heavily with a prominent blush on his cheeks. “I warned you, didn’t I?” His eyes were cloudy as he spoke with a sensual voice. Hearing your praise for his scars did something to him.

With a bite of your lip, you stare up at him. “Mhm.. but I really do think so.” You shuddered as his rough palms grazed your sides.

His lips quickly met yours in a heated kiss. Your tongues danced with passion as he pushed his hips into yours. Your words were playing with fire. He wanted to hear them over and over. Something about you saying that made him feel hot all over.

As soon as you part for breath, his lips are latched on your neck. Dark hickeys were made in every spot he kissed. After properly marking your neck, he makes quick work of your shirt, to which he takes the new exposed skin into his mouth to make more marks. While doing so, his hands glide to unclip your (f/c) bra. You lifted yourself slightly to allow him to so.

He groans at the sight of your perked up nipples. He throws your bra across the room, turning his attention back to you. “Perfect..” He murmurs.

His tongue swirls around one nipple, before sucking and repeating the process. Then he pays some attention to the other. The stimulation just from this made soft gasps escape your mouth. That only fueled the ever growing fire.

A few minutes pass, and he pulls away from your chest. His fingers skillfully pull down your pants with haste. His cock twitches in his pants at the sight of your panties, and the patch of your desire that was making it stick to your pussy.

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy.. you know that?” He inquires with a lustful stare, but he wasn’t expecting an answer. Especially when you know it.

His thumbs rub your waist as he studied your already dazed expression. He hums, as his gaze falls back to your clothed core. He’s hit with the urge to taste you, to make you come undone with his tongue. And he’s not a patient man. He takes what he wants. And right now, he wants nothing more than to taste your essence.

He was already patient enough to take everything else off of you, but he couldn’t stop himself from tearing the panties you still had on off of you. He wouldn’t hear the end of it later, but he didn’t care. As soon as your wet pussy is exposed to him, his tongue begins to explore it.

Just the taste of you has his mind reeling. He licks and sucks at your clit messily. Pulling whine after whine from you. It was almost like he wasn’t doing this for you anymore. Your hands tug at his wild white hair as you mewl in pleasure.

“Just l-like that ‘Nemi—ah..—feels so good.” You moan, slightly bucking your hips up to get more friction. From the stimulation of his tongue alone, it has your back arching.

Soon, he pushes a thick finger into your entrance, pumping it in and out in tune with his actions on your clit. You couldn’t control your voice as it increased in volume, especially not when he adds another. His mind felt fuzzy as he lapped at you and fucked you with his fingers.

Sanemi still had your compliment in mind as he brought you to cloud nine. He didn’t care how messy he would get from this, he just wanted you to cum on his face. Your sweet moans only encouraged him to bring you to the brink faster.

Your pussy tightens around his fingers as you feel yourself coming closer and closer to the edge. A few more movements of his hands had you cumming all over his face and fingers. He greedily licked you clean as you twitched in overstimulation.

He lifts himself up once more. You see the bottom half of his face covered in your juices and his own saliva, causing you to blush more from embarrassment. He notices, smirking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Still think I’m beautiful?” He questions. You look away from him, in a sudden sense of bashfulness. His eyes never leaves your face as he demands an answer. “Look at me. Tell me baby, do you think I still look pretty?” His breathing quickens once again at his own words.

Your eyes slowly return back up to his as you nod. “Mhm.. so pretty.” Without a doubt, he was prettier in your eyes now than before. Even with the bottom of his face still glistening with your essence.

He mutters a few curses before undressing himself as fast as he could. You ogle his well built figure, scarred and sculpted from years of slaying demons. No matter how many times you see it, you’re still just as enamored.

Normally, he would poke fun at you for staring at him, but he wanted to be in you, and he wanted it badly. He hovers over you again, peering down to grab hold of his leaking cock. He rubs himself against you a few times, until he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He needed to feel the warmth, and he needed it now.

He slips inside you, which is made easy by his prep and the wetness seeping out of your cunt. He lets out a husky groan as he slowly pushes in. The delicious stretch as he filled you up made you squeeze around him. He hisses, and grips tightly underneath your knees to gradually push them to your chest. This only made him push deeper into you, almost making you forget to breathe.

A mutual moan is shared as he bottoms out. After a moment, he pulls back his hips to slam into you again, knocking the air out of you once again. Your hands frantically move to his shoulders.

“Fuck.. pussy’s squeezin’ me tight..” he groans. His mind felt foggy from lust and the feeling of you around him. Never has he felt this pussy whipped. Did your words have more of an effect than he originally thought? Of course it did. Such a compliment coming from your pretty lips; Moreover about his scars, had him reeling from the start.

He continues to thrust deep into you, hitting places you didn’t think he could reach. Everything felt.. different this time. You’d never seen this man act like this over something so simple.

Each thrust had you letting out whines and moans, and you could feel every bit of his cock as it slid in and out of you. Each movement was deep and fast. As if he was a dog in heat. As if he were in a rut, and you were the only person who could help him through it. The pleasure you felt from it was almost too much. Your nails dug into his scarred shoulders, earning a grunt from him. His lip was tucked under his teeth, though he wasn’t going to let you hear just how desperate he was. But god, did it feel so good.

“K-Keep going.. plea—ah! Please, ‘Nemi!” You whimper, your back arching more as you felt yourself get closer by the second.

“Yeah? Just like this?” He smirks as he was loving the sight underneath him. You losing yourself in pleasure, face contorting into an expression he adores after a long day like this.

“Fuck! Y-yes..” you respond in broken moans, clenching on him.

He bit his lip harder. It wasn’t normal for him to get close already. But your pussy was gripping him like a vice each and every time he hit that one spot that had your eyes rolling back.

Before you could warn him of your incoming release, you saw white as you made a mess on his cock. Sanemi growled and let out a few low moans as he pushed into you a few more times before cumming himself. He kept his dick in you and bent down to catch his breath on your shoulder. “Shit..” he says between his scattered breaths.

The orgasm you both felt was powerful. And he wanted more. He wasn’t going to be satisfied with just one round. He craved to feel that again. Your hands fell to your sides as you recovered from cumming that hard.

That was, you were recovering from it. Because now, he was pushing you over on your stomach. You knew what he wanted so you braced yourself on your forearms and knees. You arched your back temptingly, which wasn’t missed by him. He slaps your ass, you were just too tempting and so pliant just for him. And he couldn’t wait to plunge into you again.

His cock forces its way into you again, and he wastes no time in fucking you again with conviction. He was once again fast and desperate in the way he moved his hips. “C-Can’t get enough of this..” he murmurs into the back of your neck just as he pushes the top of his torso against your back. This, in turn, made him go further into you. His voice, still occasionally cracking from the intense overstimulation, continued to murmur dirty sentences into your ear.

You were still feeling sensitive from your last orgasm, and so was he, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to keep going. Your drenched and quivering hole sucked him in so perfectly, almost like it never wanted him to leave, so why would he stop now? “Fuck.. I can never control myself with you—shit— you’re fucking addicting..” he nearly whines in the back of your neck, as he sucks a purple hickey into it.

His words only helped to sink you further into euphoric depths of desire. It seemed like that little comment earlier took away any filter he usually had when you two fucked previously. Something about this really was different. More eager, and full of need along with an overwhelming sense of desperation.

Sanemi’s sloppy but deep thrusts, in addition to you already being sensitive, pushed you surprisingly quickly to the brink. To the point you couldn’t even warn him about it, just like before. He growled loudly as he felt you cum again. His mouth spilled out endless curses and downright nasty words as he bucked into your twitching pussy.

“T-Too sensitive, ‘Nemi!” You practically screamed as he kept hitting the same spot that has been making you see stars.

“Just a b-bit more.-agh..come on baby..” He leans further down on you, his firm chest hitting your back completely. His eyes almost rolled to the back of his head as he rolled his hips into you wildly. Your eyes watered, feeling his hips stutter in their thrusts until he bursts inside you for the second time. It warms your insides as it fills you to the brim, and then leaks out down your thighs.

The both of you catch your breath for a few minutes until he pulls himself out. This causes more of his seed to drip out from your hole at the emptiness. You fall flat on your stomach out of exhaustion. Meanwhile, his eyes were enraptured by the view of it all. He was tempted in that moment to go again, but he held that back for now. Maybe at a later time would he do it, but jesus, was it tempting..

Sanemi’s hands rub your lower back and ass comfortingly, which he then stops after you speak. “..I take it you like what I said earlier, huh?” You chucked breathlessly, watching as he laid beside you.

“Maybe a little too much.” He murmured, and you could see a hint of a blush on his cheeks. Totally different from the man who was just rearranging your insides.

You lips meet his in a short and gentle kiss. “Who knows, I might just say it more often..” you suggest playfully when you pull away.

His breath hitched for just a second. “I suggest you be careful with what you say..” his voice tinged with a teasing but demanding tone.

You giggled, your head moves to lay on his chest. Even with his attempted serious expression, his hands told a different story. They weaved through your hair softly. It was then that he wished this could last forever, a peaceful time where he’s not out there fighting. No demons, no annoying slayers to bother him, just the two of you in post-sex clarity and tranquility. And he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

#lovely anons :)#kny smut #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #sanemi smut #Sanemi x reader #kny sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi x you #Sanemi imagine

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maple-tales · 5 months ago

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At first, Laios would fail to see the appeal of cryptids. Why waste your time researching creatures that aren't proven to exist when monsters are right there and so cool?

He can certainly empathize with the way your interests and research are dismissed or considered weird, even pointless. Even if he doesn't have much interest in cryptids himself, he listens to you just like you listen to him talk about monsters.

You're twenty minutes in to an infodump about a cryptid from your homeland for what must be the hundredth time when he realizes hey, maybe one of the reasons he likes to listen to you talk is because he likes you.

The realization would excite him and make him nervous at the same time, because he's never been the best with people. You're different, though—you understand a part of him that not many other people do.

He's one of the few people who you don't have to physically drag into the middle of the woods to look for cryptids. He'll come along happily! (Mostly because he likes spending time with you and spending time outdoors, so it's a win-win situation)

Laios would tell you how he feels about you on one of these excursions. It would be at one of the most inopportune times because that's just how he is. Probably right when you think you're finally going to catch a glimpse of something, only for him to confess to you and draw your attention away from the shadowy figure half obscured by bushes in between the trees. It's not there when you look back, of course.

You can't bring yourself to be upset though. Not when you tell him you feel the same way and he grins and hugs you so tight you can hardly breathe.

...You do sulk about it later though. He promises to make it up to you.

#laios x reader #laios touden x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dunmeshi x reader #i'm not dead y'all!!!

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pokilicious · 10 months ago

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While I understand the appeal of degradation in Dr. Ratio fanfics, consider praise instead. That man throws insults as easily as he breathes, but praise? Legit, genuine compliments? That's rare, that's special. Of course, it could always be a combination of both, but the sheer potential of a Dr. Ratio who is soft when comfortable and far away from all the eyes that follow him wherever he goes is too much to ignore, reminds me of some teachers and professors I had that were tough to pass in class but were completely soft and genuinely nice outside of it, I had this one geography teacher in high school that seemed like one of those teachers who'll fail you for grammar mistakes, but actually was a really cool guy who would grade essays and homework by hand and give feedback privately, or discretely if in front of class, which is something most won't do, and honestly really sweet. I would love to read one of those fanfics where Dr. Ratio is in a relationship without the knowledge of his students or even colleagues, who probably think "who would want that narcissistic guy", and then boom, actually that guy is happily married for almost eight years and is absolutely in love with his S/O and it shows, even if subtly.

I don't normally make posts like this but it's something I've been thinking about for a while lol

#honkai star rail #hsr #dr ratio #fanfic #dr ratio x reader

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rebeccathenaturalist · 1 year ago

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Existence Value: Why All of Nature is Important Whether We Can Use it or Not

I spend a lot of time around other nature nerds. We’re a bunch of people from varying backgrounds, places, and generations who all find a deep well of inspiration within the natural world. We’re the sort of people who will happily spend all day outside enjoying seeing wildlife and their habitats without any sort of secondary goal like fishing, foraging, etc. (though some of us engage in those activities, too.) We don’t just fall in love with the places we’ve been, either, but wild locales that we’ve only ever seen in pictures, or heard of from others. We are curators of existence value.

Existence value is exactly what it sounds like–something is considered important and worthwhile simply because it is. It’s at odds with how a lot of folks here in the United States view our “natural resources.” It’s also telling that that is the term most often used to refer collectively to anything that is not a human being, something we have created, or a species we have domesticated, and I have run into many people in my lifetime for whom the only value nature has is what money can be extracted from it. Timber, minerals, water, meat (wild and domestic), mushrooms, and more–for some, these are the sole reasons nature exists, especially if they can be sold for profit. When questioning how deeply imbalanced and harmful our extractive processes have become, I’ve often been told “Well, that’s just the way it is,” as if we shall be forever frozen in the mid-20th century with no opportunity to reimagine industry, technology, or uses thereof.

Moreover, we often assign positive or negative value to a being or place based on whether it directly benefits us or not. Look at how many people want to see deer and elk numbers skyrocket so that they have more to hunt, while advocating for going back to the days when people shot every gray wolf they came across. Barry Holstun Lopez’ classic Of Wolves and Men is just one of several in-depth looks at how deeply ingrained that hatred of the “big bad wolf” is in western mindsets, simply because wolves inconveniently prey on livestock and compete with us for dwindling areas of wild land and the wild game that sustained both species’ ancestors for many millennia. “Good” species are those that give us things; “bad” species are those that refuse to be so complacent.

Even the modern conservation movement often has to appeal to people’s selfishness in order to get us to care about nature. Look at how often we have to argue that a species of rare plant is worth saving because it might have a compound in it we could use for medicine. Think about how we’ve had to explain that we need biodiverse ecosystems, healthy soil, and clean water and air because of the ecosystem services they provide us. We measure the value of trees in dollars based on how they can mitigate air pollution and anthropogenic climate change. It’s frankly depressing how many people won’t understand a problem until we put things in terms of their own self-interest and make it personal. (I see that less as an individual failing, and more our society’s failure to teach empathy and emotional skills in general, but that’s a post for another time.)

Existence value flies in the face of all of those presumptions. It says that a wild animal, or a fungus, or a landscape, is worth preserving simply because it is there, and that is good enough. It argues that the white-tailed deer and the gray wolf are equally valuable regardless of what we think of them or get from them, in part because both are keystone species that have massive positive impacts on the ecosystems they are a part of, and their loss is ecologically devastating.

But even those species whose ecological impact isn’t quite so wide-ranging are still considered to have existence value. And we don’t have to have personally interacted with a place or its natural inhabitants in order to understand their existence value, either. I may never get to visit the Maasai Mara in Kenya, but I wish to see it as protected and cared for as places I visit regularly, like Willapa National Wildlife Refuge. And there are countless other places, whose names I may never know and which may be no larger than a fraction of an acre, that are important in their own right.

I would like more people (in western societies in particular) to be considering this concept of existence value. What happens when we detangle non-human nature from the automatic value judgements we place on it according to our own biases? When we question why we hold certain values, where those values came from, and the motivations of those who handed them to us in the first place, it makes it easier to see the complicated messes beneath the simple, shiny veneer of “Well, that’s just the way it is.”

And then we get to that most dangerous of realizations: it doesn’t have to be this way. It can be different, and better, taking the best of what we’ve accomplished over the years and creating better solutions for the worst of what we’ve done. In the words of Rebecca Buck–aka Tank Girl–“We can be wonderful. We can be magnificent. We can turn this shit around.”

Let’s be clear: rethinking is just the first step. We can’t just uproot ourselves from our current, deeply entrenched technological, social, and environmental situation and instantly create a new way of doing things. Societal change takes time; it takes generations. This is how we got into that situation, and it’s how we’re going to climb out of it and hopefully into something better. Sometimes the best we can do is celebrate small, incremental victories–but that’s better than nothing at all.

Nor can we just ignore the immensely disproportionate impact that has been made on indigenous and other disadvantaged communities by our society (even in some cases where we’ve actually been trying to fix the problems we’ve created.) It does no good to accept nature’s inherent value on its own terms if we do not also extend that acceptance throughout our own society, and to our entire species as a whole.

But I think ruminating on this concept of existence value is a good first step toward breaking ourselves out first and foremost. And then we go from there.

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes or hiring me for a guided nature tour, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!

#nature #natural history #ecology #wildlife #animals #environment #environmentalism #conservation #existence value #deep ecology #science #scicomm #environmental philosophy #climate change

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obriengf · 11 months ago

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Forbidden Cloth || Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: Stiles uncovers a strong disdain for Ugly Christmas Sweaters. Words: 1k Warnings: just stiles being cute af so don't read if you're not into that Notes: guys i rambled so much in this

hope he's bringing me love this christmas cause i deserve you here ✩

"Do you like my sweater?" Your voice carried such sweetness; an innocence that made a young man's heart swell with an overwhelming warmth. With that tone, you could get away with whatever you wanted and he would be right behind you, following every move, your cheerleader for life. You stood in his kitchen doorway, arms stretched between the dark wooden arches, a sense of 'ta-da' shown on the high upturn of your smile and showman's stance. And Stiles would have happily played along - singing your praises, throwing compliments - if it wasn't for the hideous fabric gracing your frame. His face dropped; speechlessness weighing down his tongue, brows furrowed and head tilted as he was truly lost with what to say. Your sweater soon absorbed every ounce of his focus and Stiles hated it. Truly, absolutely hated it. His jaw moved as words gathered yet remained unspoken, until, in candid Stiles' fashion, he let his mouth run before he could think it through, "What the hell is that?" Your brows furrowed, only mildly taken aback by his outright and unfiltered way of finally speaking. You hummed, "What are you on about?" Your question was rhetorical, to you at least, knowing full well that the itchy and bright bundle of fabric that you wore was anything but appealing. But you couldn't help yourself - messing around with the awkward mess that was your boyfriend was something that never failed to put a smile on your face. With pursed lips, you gazed down at your sweater, trying your hardest to not visibly cringe at the exaggerated embellishments. You hummed once more as faux naiveness contorted your features, "You don't like my sweater, baby?"

"I-I..." Stiles mumbled, trepidation sneaking inside his thoughts, trying to convince him to avoid offence. But the thing about Stiles Stilinski, even though he is the epitome of support and determination, he also has a bad habit of forgetting to filter his opinions before they escape his busy mind. "Like it? But it's so... so ugly."

It was quick when you saw his eyes widen; large warm irises of brown complementing his raised brows and ajar jaw. It was as if the mere second the words left his lips, Stiles realised what he said, and how much trouble he could be in. A deer caught in headlights, frozen and unmoving despite the rapid racing of his heart as it reverberated in his chest. He was potentially, and utterly, screwed.

"Wait, you think it's ugly?" You repeated his words, shot them straight back with a delicate timbre as your hands ran down the sides of the mismatched patterned wool. Stiles was looking worried now, and your capacity for games was wearing thin when you could see how he was beginning to pale. You managed a chuckle, filled with light and sincerity, as you began making your way toward him, "Good thing that was the whole point."

He watched you snort, his face dumbfounded, amusement breaking at the seams as his brows rose and the corners of his lips lifted in absolute puzzlement. His body was tense as he had braced himself for the blowback of how his unfiltered words could have caused harm, how they could have made you sad and insecure. He would never hurt you, not intentionally, and the guilt was hasty when it seeped deep into his bones and set every alert and emotion alight.

But now he was staring at you and that beautiful smile that was burnt in the back of his mind - living there rent-free, happily, most likely for the rest of his life. And by god, did it make him smile back with just as much joviality.

"I-I don't... baby, if you don't like it, why are you wearing it?" His words laughed but remained quiet as you got closer. It took everything for him to not come face to face with the bright and retched cloth in front of him as he opted to instead stand, eventually towering over your shorter frame, his hands large and delicate as they cupped your cheeks so habitually. Thumbs rubbed tentatively against skin; the touch was barely felt, but it was enough to provoke a red blush to gather where Stiles trailed.

You went to speak but froze in place - his childish gaze making you melt into the backdrop of your Christmas-covered apartment, always so mesmerised after all this time spent together. He had an effect on you, and he seemed to know it by the way his eyes had a mischievous glint that complemented well with his bitten lip.

"It's a thing, wearing ugly sweaters for Christmas." You breathed as your hands pressed to his chest, maintaining some sort of stability as he continued to courteously invade your space. His head tilted as he once did before, curiosity in the form of large puppy eyes and relaxed brows now contorting his features. It made you laugh within your word's undertones, "I've seen people do it on social media and it's cute, you know? Couples wearing matching sweaters -"

"You got me one too?" Stiles intercepted, but you could hear the hesitation in his voice. He loved you, so much, probably too much, but just the idea of wearing something as off-putting as your own sweater was something that made him cringe. "There's no way that you're gonna get me in one of those, sweetheart. I'd burn down the world for you, hell, I'd help you bury a body, but I'm not doing this ugly sweater thing."

He put his metaphorical foot down, but you saw no harm. If there was one thing that you admired so incredibly much about Stiles Stilinski, it would be his outright honesty - sometimes confused for an unfiltered mess, but you loved it regardless. You smiled up at him and he smiled back, unspoken understanding building the foundation of your relationship and it made the man lean down and press a gentle peck to your forehead.

His lips dragged down to your cheeks, your lips, under your ear before he whispered against your sensitive skin, "Alright, now go take that hideous thing off, and that cute little skirt while you're at it."

#dylan o'brien x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan o'brien #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #dylan o'brien fic #dylan o'brien imagine #teen wolf fic #teen wolf imagine #obriengfchristmas

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cobaltperun · 11 months ago

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Lost (13) - Easier to run

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Warning for this chapter: I don't go into details, but the ending might be a bit, uncomfortable.

Word count: 4.8k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-Just washing it aside all of the helplessness inside pretending I don't feel misplaced is so much simpler than change-

Everyone who knew you and Tara for more than a day would likely say Tara was the one exception to your every rule. That all Tara had to do to get something from you would be to simply ask. There were plenty of activities that were only permitted to Tara. From stealing your clothes, in her defense they were comfy, and she felt like you were hugging her whenever she wore them, all the way to interrupting your training for valid, though admittedly silly, reasons. What? She needed her kisses and hugs!

Well, those people had no idea what they were talking about because all the tricks in the books weren't making you give in.

"Come on, Y/N," Tara was getting desperate at this point. Puppy eyes, which she almost never had to resort to in the first place didn't help, and all the other options she used failed just as spectacularly, for there was one thing you didn’t let Tara do, no matter how much you loved her. She pleaded, begged, she bargained, she tried seduction, promised things that made you smile at the mere thought of them, promised things that made you a flustered mess. Yet none of those methods worked. "Please! I'll do anything you want, or let you do anything you want," her pleading went unanswered as you got in your car.

"If you loved me, you'd do this for me," a low blow, but she was getting desperate. She wanted to drive, that looked like so much fun, and it’s been a while since she last drove!

You lowered your window and looked at Tara with the flattest look she had ever seen on your face. "Tara, you're not driving my car, now get in," she had no idea, but both of you had the same thought going through your heads. 'I have the most stubborn girlfriend ever.'

"You let Sam drive it," Tara grumbled when she relented and got in the passenger seat.

"I was injured! You can drive it if I'm dying or high on painkillers!" you exclaimed, clearly getting riled up over Tara's insistence on driving your precious car. Tara couldn't help herself, she grinned at your reaction. There was just something inherently appealing and maybe even a bit exciting in knowing that regardless of how much she pushed your buttons you'd only get annoyed and even then, you'd calm down after a bit of making out. So, while she really wanted to drive to Sacramento, getting you riled up would have to do.

Only... she just realized she couldn't make out with you while you were driving, and driving alone would calm you down. Tara was getting nothing out of half an hour's worth of effort.

Shit.

She guessed she could at least give you silent treatment for a bit. You were driving anyway, and not liking to talk while driving wasn’t limited to just phone, you didn’t like talking at all. You loved listening, and Tara happily talked throughout the entire rides, with you providing minimal verbal response. Honestly, she loved that about you, because you were a really careful driver, and she never had to worry about you as far as that was concerned.

“Come on, surely you’re not still moody over not driving?” you spoke up fifteen minutes after you left Woodsboro.

Tara hummed and turned her head to the side, pretending to ignore you. You huffed and she had to cover her mouth with her hand to hide the smirk on her face.

“Okay, okay, be moody. I guess we aren’t going to stop by that nice place on the side of the road, the one with that kiwi flavored ice cream you loved so much,” you had to be smirking, you absolutely had to be smirking. She heard it in your voice, you tease.

“Fine, fine, I’m not moody anymore,” she raised her hands and turned to look at you, after all, you did promise to stop by for kiwi ice cream.

“That’s my girl!” your smirk shifted into a happy grin causing Tara to blush.

~X~

Ever since choosing Blackmore University as the next step in your education, you made sure you went to Sacramento to visit Susan at least once a month, and Tara made sure she was with you every single time. In a week you'd be leaving Woodsboro so it wouldn't be as easy to travel from New York to Sacramento whenever you wanted to. So, that's how you ended up in Susan's guest bedroom with Tara getting ready to go to bed.

The fact that Tara was the one sleeping closer to the doors was enough proof of how the two of you felt regarding Susan. Right now, you and Tara were sitting on the bed, just about ready to lie down and sleep.

"I'm proud of you two, and yes, I already said that, and I'm going to keep saying that," Susan smiled, it felt good to hear someone say that, especially since it was directed at Tara too.

"Thank you," you glanced at Tara, noticing a small blush dusting her cheeks.

Every time Susan did something that made Tara feel welcomed and loved you couldn't help but like the woman just a bit more than before. "Thanks, mo-" you froze, your eyes wide as you realized what word nearly slipped past your lips.

You could feel your face burning as you wished for the ground to open and swallow you. Or for a bolt of lightning to strike you. Or anything, really, that could save you from embarrassment. Unconsciously you dropped down to the bed, behind Tara, thus hiding at least your face behind her.

A soft chuckle made you reach out and pull Tara closer to you as the bed muffled your embarrassed groan. "Good night," Susan closed the doors behind her.

Tara giggled, enjoying your unfortunate slip of the tongue. "Y/N," she pulled away from you, but only so she could lie down next to you and pull your head to her chest. "It's okay," she whispered softly, gently massaging the back of your head. "It was cute," she was enjoying this a bit too much.

"I'll never recover from embarrassment," you complained, even if you felt a bit better now.

"You're adorable when you get embarrassed," Tara actually cooed, only increasing the embarrassment you felt.

"No, I'm not. I'm an MMA fighter," you were a fighter, always ready for a brawl, proven to be one of the strongest female fighters in the world without even reaching your peak. You were not going to take this.

Tara shifted so she was face to face with you. "I don't see how one excludes the other, you're my adorable MMA fighter," the soft kisses were definitely making you just take it.

"You're lucky I love you," you playfully warned when Tara stopped kissing you for a moment.

"Oh, I know," there was a mischievous glint in Tara's eyes. Frankly, any other time this would probably escalate further, but you were at Susan's house and the mere idea of going further than kissing and cuddling felt strange, so, Tara just snuggled up to you and closed her eyes, content and happy to be here with you.

~X~

She made a mistake.

She made a terrible, awful, ridiculously stupid, mistake!

Why did she want to drive so much in the first place? Oh, yeah, because she hasn’t driven in a long time and really wanted to do it. Well, you let her drive on the way back and the car was absolutely, a hundred percent, against her. Shifting gears felt like being tossed back and forth, and why, just why did you have to go for a manual car instead of an automatic one? Sure they were cheaper, but still! Something told her you would still choose a manual car over an automatic even if you had more money.

“I’m so sorry,” Tara narrowed her eyes as she noticed you rubbing the audio system gently as if you were apologizing to your car. Actually, you were apologizing to it. And Tara felt her eye twitch at that.

You’ll see when she gets out of the city. And then she had to stop at a traffic light, on an incline. “Oh, shit,” she muttered, trying to remember what she needed to do. In her defense she didn’t have a car, and the last time she drove was almost three years ago. Maybe you had a point when you didn’t let her drive your car.

“What?” you turned to look at her and noticing her panic you placed a hand on her shoulder. “Easy Tara, you’ve got this,” she nodded, for all the complaints and refusal to let her drive you still had faith in her that she could do this. That calmed her down and she pulled the handbreak and relaxed until the traffic light turned green. She gently released the clutch and pressed the gas and lowered the handbreak, getting the car to move again. She let out a sigh and smiled as you placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly, and she didn’t need to look at you to know you were smiling. And the rest of the ride, well, it wasn’t smooth, but she didn’t feel nervous. You were next to her, and well, Tara would be the first to admit she kinda sucked at the whole driving thing, but everything turned out fine.

She parked like a pro in front of your apartment building. She still remembered getting into trouble with Judy when you were teaching her how to drive. She let you off the hook only if you promised to keep your lessons on the parking lots, and with your patience Tara learnt how to park perfectly. The driving part… well, not so much. You tried, you really did, after she got her driver license, but by that point you were already living in your apartment, working and actively preparing for your first fight, so Tara wanted to spend what time you had together doing something other than driving. “Home sweet home,” she said and stepped out of the car, you could have it back, she drove enough for a while.

~X~

Leaving Woodsboro and coming to New York, was, perhaps, the best decision you could make, especially for Tara. She was happy, relaxed, even excited, it was like she was being completely free for the first time in her life. Free from her mother, her past, from everything negative related to Woodsboro.

Nothing told you Tara was feeling better as well as the way you woke up that morning. It would be an understatement to say it was a surprise to wake up in your new apartment with Tara drawing random shapes on your left forearm with the tip of her finger.

Ever since Tara was attacked when the two of you slept together the two of you either spooned or slept in the same position as you were in this morning, with Tara's head on your chest, and your arms protectively around her. Cradle position, or something like that, Tara once told you.

"Hey, Love," you rasped, still a bit sleepy.

Tara leaned up, kissing the right side of your jaw. "Good morning, Y/N," you felt her smiling as she peppered kisses along your jaw. "We've got a long day ahead of us," she reminded you, though with the way she nuzzled into your neck you figured she wasn't too eager to get up.

"Let's see, we're meeting that girl who answered our ad for a roommate, Sam has a job interview, I have first MMA classes," Thomas really saved your ass with that. He paid well, maybe even too well, it wasn't a full-time job, and you could use it to stay in shape as well. Because of how well he paid Sam would only need to work one job, instead of two that she was planning on. Tara could focus on studying, besides, with her asthma job options were even more limited. If she wanted to get a job eventually neither you nor Sam would stop her, but she deserved to take it easy at least for a year.

You also retired with quite a bit of money from the deal to retire quietly and the two fights you had. You considered investing it in something but figured it would be smarter to wait for a bit and see how things worked out in New York.

"Mhm, and we have to go do some shopping, mostly for our kitchen," Tara reminded you. That would be a bit of an annoyance since Sam just had to insist on getting the top floor, no elevator in the building, apartment.

"I still can't believe there are so many stairs in this building, or that we actually have rooms now. And a kitchen. That isn't connected to the living room and bedroom. And two damn bathrooms. And three bedrooms. We have a separate dining area, Tara, a proper dining area with a table!" having spent almost three years in a cramped apartment made this feel surreal. Even the damn bed you were sleeping in was bigger now!

Tara laughed, tickling you slightly with her breath. "You can actually work out here," she teased you.

"That too!" you eagerly agreed. Finally, you could get rid of any nervous energy without heading to the gym. Granted, you didn’t have to do it that often, but just the fact that you could do it was enough. “And you can’t complain about that. Remember what you did the last time I did push-ups?”

Tara nodded, raising her head, and nibbling on your ear lightly. “Mhm, I sat on your back,” and she sounded so damn proud of that.

A knock on the door got your attention before you could reply to that. "Are you two decent?" Sam's voice came from the other side.

"Yeah!" Tara immediately said as she lowered her head back down and stopped teasing you. And you were decent, clothes on, room clean, you were just still in bed. Still, after Sam barely avoided catching the two of you in a not-quite-decent state she got into a habit of asking before entering. And you were thankful for that, because while you deeply cared about Sam, neither you nor Tara wanted her to walk in on you. And Sam was just as disturbed by the idea, so this was truly the best option.

"I was about to head to the store, do you need anything?" Sam asked, smiling when she saw Tara so happy this early in the morning.

Tara shook her head. "I'm good, thanks Sam."

"Same here, I'll get the breakfast ready when you come back," honestly, you got used to Sam living with you and Tara really quickly. It almost made you sorry someone else, a stranger nonetheless, was about to join the three of you.

"I'll be back soon," Sam left the two of you and you stretched a bit before finally getting up.

"You two are going to spoil me," Tara sat up as well, yawning slightly.

You took the T-shirt you slept in off and went to the wardrobe to get a clean shirt. "Nothing wrong with that, Love," besides, it wasn't like Tara didn't do anything, she had her own chores, it's just that they usually didn’t involve cooking, though she did cook every now and then, or cleaning that could trigger her asthma.

“Mhm, how about I spoil you as well?” she came up behind you, got on her tiptoes and kissed your neck, her hands sliding up your arms.

You turned around, capturing her lips in a quick kiss. “What did you have in mind?” you lifted her up, smirking teasingly as she pulled back and hugged you.

“How about we watch your favorite movie, and I’ll order our favorite snacks and food, so you don’t have to cook tonight?” she asked, and your eyes lit up at that. She could definitely spoil you like that.

~X~

You were late. Thomas took up some of your time to talk about the first classes you taught as well as to catch up a bit. After everything he did you kind of couldn't just leave. Besides, Tara and Sam were meeting this girl, Quinn Bailey if you remembered correctly, in public, far enough from the apartment. Her dad was a cop, so that made it easier to drop your guard a bit.

As long as Tara and Sam were fine with the girl, you were sure you'd be fine with her too. If you were being completely honest, if Quinn managed to convince Sam she was harmless she was almost definitely in.

The bar Sam chose was busy, though not crowded, especially at this hour. People came and went, stopping by to get their coffee or to get out of the heat, but no one really stayed more than necessary. You came inside and looked around until you finally noticed Tara. When you joined Tara, Sam, and who you assumed was Quinn, you quickly leaned down to kiss Tara's cheek, gave Sam a brief one-armed hug, and only then offered your hand to Quinn. "Y/N L/N, sorry I'm late," you said.

Quinn accepted the handshake. "Damn, and I thought Sam was jacked, but look at you," she whistled as you sat down next to Tara.

Well, it wasn't the first time someone noticed your muscles, but the girl in front of you was pretty much ogling you right now. "Right, moving on," not the best first impression, but you could brush it off. Tara, who was frowning, probably wouldn't though.

"Where's the rush? I wouldn't mind having some fun," what was this woman trying to accomplish? You really couldn't figure it out. Was she trying to piss Tara off or something?

"Well, have fun. Without me," you reached down underneath the table to rub circles into Tara's right palm. Feeling the way she squeezed your hand it was the right decision.

"Life, I have found, is about variety, Y/N," she leaned in, reaching over toward your hand.

"Mine is about one person," you pulled your hand back before she could touch it. Tara loosened her hold on your hand, but still leaned a bit closer. You could see she was glaring daggers at Quinn and Sam didn't appreciate it either.

Quinn had a bit of a frown on her face, but it quickly changed and she began laughing. "I'm just joking with you, though I really wouldn't mind taking a closer look," she openly ogled you.

Tara faked a cough. "Well, I'm not. I'm sorry we wasted your time Quinn," there was no need for Tara to finish that sentence.

Quinn had the guts to look shocked. "Are you serious right now?"

"Absolutely," Sam took Tara's side and you just shrugged, as if to tell her 'Well, what did you expect would happen?'

"Unbelievable," Quinn pretty much stormed off.

"Do we really need a roommate? The extra bedroom can be used if Chad or Mindy decide to sleep over," Tara voiced what all three of you were thinking.

"That's probably the best option," Sam agreed, help with rent would have been welcome, but you could manage without it.

"You won't catch me complaining, that's for sure," you were definitely in favor of keeping the apartment to just the three of you. Not to mention it was the safest option.

"Speaking of the apartment, let's go back," Tara was already up and pulling you along. Sam still had her job interview, so it would just be you and Tara.

Kitchen equipment shopping could clearly wait, as you could see she was still pissed off by the time you reached the building, so you picked her up bridal style. "Don't tell me you're jealous," you eventually asked and grinned as Tara placed her arm on your back.

"I'm not," she huffed as she unlocked your apartment.

She locked the doors behind you two and you went right to the bedroom. "What is it then?" you asked and lowered her down on the bed,

"You're mine," okay, that sounded way more possessive than you were used to from Tara. She said you were hers every now and then, usually when you were making love, this time though her tone was different. This wasn't born of passion, or said in the heat of the moment, this was pure jealousy.

"So, you are jealous," you sighed, letting her pull you in until you were pressing against her.

"Of course I am. She, she just-" Tara huffed and let go of you, spreading her arms on the bed. You immediately recognized the mood swings from right after the attack. Your best guess was that this one was caused by Quinn attempting to take you from Tara.

"Tara," you slowly kissed her neck, gradually making your way up to her lips. "I'm yours. The only variety I want to consider is the variety of ways I can make you say my name," you grinned a bit as you heard Tara's breath hitch.

No fourth roommate. Just the three of you. With Woodsboro left behind. It felt like nothing could go wrong. You should have known better. You should have noticed Tara was too focused on ignoring Woodsboro.

You should have realized Tara was running away from what happened the moment you caught her covering the scar on her hand.

You only realized it two months after you came to New York when she first disappeared.

~X~

She may have had a bit too much to drink tonight. That might be a bit difficult to explain in the morning. Where was she anyway? She felt nauseous, but she still drank whatever alcohol was currently in her cup. Who exactly brought her here anyway? She was at one party, then somehow ended up at another one. Maybe. At this point, she was too drunk to know for sure.

How was she going to get home?

Oh well, problems for later.

She felt hands on her waist. The grip was strong. You? No, no, it was too firm, too forceful. She stumbled back, her head clearing enough to vaguely recognize a guy who was at the first party.

"What's wrong? You want this, right?"

She heard the words, but she couldn't quite understand them. The alcohol was making it very hard to stay steady on her feet. Oh, this was a mistake.

"No," she slurred, a lot like how her mother would and for a moment she felt disgusted by her behavior.

The guy laughed, clearly not believing her. "I'll take good care of you, don't worry about it."

Even as drunk as she was she felt her blood run cold. "Y/N," you weren't there, you weren't with her. She imagined your voice, telling her to breathe, angry at her, but more than anything worried about her asthma.

There was a crash and what sounded like wood cracking and then she felt safe. She felt the fresh air against her cheeks, strong arms holding her close, protecting her from anything and anyone. "I got you Tara, I got you," she heard and fell asleep in your arms.

~X~

You came back to the apartment when it was almost midnight, with Tara completely passed out due to who knows how much alcohol she drank. Sam met you at the doors, her legs too shaky to let her meet you outside. You weren't doing much better, you had hundreds of worst-case scenarios running through your head.

Sam reached out to Tara when you stopped at the front door. She shakily touched Tara's cheek, then lowered her hand to wipe a bit of drool coming out of Tara's mouth.

"Y/N...?" there was a silent question in the way Sam said your name. You saw fear in her eyes, and you were sure it was in your eyes as well.

"I think I made it in time," she nodded when you said that, leaving the unspoken question to hang in the air. The terrifying possibility that might happen if Tara doesn’t stop doing this. You didn't say it, and neither did Sam, but when you lowered Tara on the bed as gently as you possibly could Sam stepped out. So, you checked, just in case. Just in case you had to immediately get back to that damned house and murder anyone still there.

Luckily, you don't need to do that. Your hands trembled as you put your shirt on Tara and you released a muffled cry of relief when Tara just curled up, peacefully sleeping in your bed. "God damn it, Tara," you stumbled to the dining room, where Sam is expecting you. "Everything's fine," you fell apart the moment you dropped into the chair.

You pressed your hands against your eyes as you began sobbing uncontrollably. For hours you managed to hold it in, and now it all came crashing down upon you. You tried to keep it down, to be as silent as possible, but all those efforts resulted in coughs and gasps as more sobs tore through your body.

Sam was no different. shaking and crying her heart out and you just stumbled over to her and pulled her closer. And she let you, she clung to you in a way that reminded you of Tara. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, or how long it took for tears to dry up. You just feel lighter when you separated from Sam.

"We owe Anika," you finally said, your voice cracking and hoarse, you were tired from all the crying.

Sam nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment.

You realized Tara was gone when, around nine p.m. you called Mindy to see why Tara wasn't answering her phone. And then all hell broke loose because Tara wasn't with Mindy or Chad, and she wasn't answering her phone. So, it turned into an all-out search. Driving from one party to another until Mindy called you an hour and a half later. Anika saw Tara at a party and before Anika could do anything Tara left with all the wrong people.

It took slamming a man into the wall to get the address. Miles away from where you were. Miles away from your apartment. So, you drove even more recklessly than you did when you were trying to catch up to Sam.

And you found Tara.

And you wouldn't be surprised if you broke more than a couple of bones at that house.

And you called Sam to tell her the moment you lowered Tara onto the backseat of your car.

And you brought Tara back home.

And she was fine.

Just so damn drunk she barely even registered you were there.

You'd deal with Tara's recklessness first thing in the morning. Right now, you just needed to go to bed and hold her. So, you did just that, you didn’t even have to pull her closer, because the moment you slipped under the covers, she instinctively moved closer to you.

“Y/N,” she mumbled, still drunk and asleep.

You just sighed and wrapped your arms around her holding her close so you wouldn’t fall apart once again.

~X~

Her head was killing her, and she moved closer to you, hoping that would help her go back to sleep, but it wasn’t working, she had one hell of a hangover and wasn’t feeling that good. Slowly she blinked, adjusting to the light and then she looked at your face. Tara’s eyes widened as she realized you were crying.

You… she never saw you crying before, and yet you cried last night. And then the memories of what happened came back, making her feel nauseous. She drank too much, didn’t answer her phone, went to a party to a part of town she didn’t even know, and she remembered the look on that guy’s face, the realization that she wasn’t safe and then you came and got her out of there. Tara swallowed the lump in her throat and hugged you tighter.

She messed up, she knew that, but the alcohol made her forget about Woodsboro, about everything that happened. She just wanted to be a normal teenager, to go out to parties, to not live in the past and let those three days define her.

And with the freedom she just now found she didn’t know when or how to stop.

A/N: Honestly, I think Tara was mostly fine in Woodsboro, but then New York gives her all the opportunities to pretend nothing wrong happened, and we gradually reach Scream 6 Tara from the party.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter #scream #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader

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pensbitchbiome · 22 days ago

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i dont understand how trump has any kind of lead in this election just from an outsiders perspective. apart from his bigotry and tax cuts for his billionaire pals he has no real policies and the fact women and men with daughters and some minority communities are all voting for him happily like what kind of self loathing cult nonsense is that? what is making these people vote this way??

i know voter suppression and gerrymandering exists and southern states being demonised isn’t the move given the vulnerable populations that live there still and will end up suffering the most, like the way florida voted 58% to protect abortion but didn’t get 60% so they failed despite having a majority. but ted cruz winning texas when the man left yall for dead multiple times to chill on a beach is wild.

its been heartbreaking to watch how the biden admin has bankrolled a genocide and sending bill clinton to michigan to tell people there “sorry we helped exterminate half your family sucks to be you but vote blue 🙂‍↔️” and using liz cheney to appeal to a demographic that doesn’t seem to exist is whack. but its almost comical to see how many people voted jill stein only for her to get endorsed by trump, her running mate be transphobic and pro-life and then dropping out of the race. it is being stuck between a rock and a hard place but unless yall do something like take up rank choice voting nationally, third party will never be an option and its just wasted votes.

seeing women talk about kamala not being qualified enough is crazy cuz a convicted felon who’s chummy with diddy and epstein and said he’d grab yall by the pussy is who you want representing you?

is it the illegal migrants and transgender surgeries at schools? was that what swayed a good chunk of people? republicans dont even earn enough to qualify for trumps tax cuts why the fuck are you people going off about the economy? i hate that the whole worlds situation depends upon how yalls fuck ass country votes.

#us politics

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phoenixblaze1412 · 1 year ago

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Hi! Could I request a Soft! Yandere Dottore and how he interacts and loves on GN Reader.

Also if no one has asked to be 🦇 could I be 🦇?

Of course anon^^ you can be 🦇<3

Soft Yandere! Dottore would be one who would always seek your attention. He wants to make sure all you're thinking about is him and only him.

He won't experiment on you, archons no. He would just make you swallow a sleeping pill instead, lying to you that it was your vitamins when it's really not.

He doesn't want to hurt you at all, he doesn't want to see any scars or bruises on your body.

He would kill if he finds out others would lay a hand on you.

He may not hurt you to make you stay with him but he will manipulate and gaslight you.

Why would you go out the palace without him? Have you forgotten the monsters you've encountered outside Zapolyarny Palace when your curious mind decided to walk out of the place?

You didn't have to know that said monsters were just his failed experiments that he released to scare you.

He was ecstatic with the results when you came clinging onto him once he finished killing off the last one. You weren't able to sleep peacefully without him by your side and it just made his heart beat even more faster than it already was when you begged him to sleep beside you.

Dottore loves seeing the way you would beg and plead at him whenever you desired something, the way your eyes would look up at him like he's the only one that can satisfy all your needs and desires. It always sends a shiver down his spine.

He would always tell you to stay in his room whenever he is about to go on a meeting with the other harbingers. He wants to make sure no one else knows of you except him and those who work under him. He knows how greedy the other harbingers are and if they found out that he has been keeping a treasure from them then it's over.

If they do find out, he's not afraid to neutralize the others. He's the 2nd Harbinger, dealing with those below his number shouldn't be difficult.

His own segments are tasked to watch over you and make sure your needs have been satiated. They're not allowed to touch you in such intimate ways though, that action is only for Dottore himself.

You would sometimes bend that rule and instead give the segments some affection. Some are happily embracing the love you give them while others are worried that Prime Dottore might find out but you would reassure them.

"You are not allowed to but he didn't say anything about me giving the affections."

Dottore would always tease you any chance he gets. He just likes seeing you cry and cling onto him whenever he would mention something about him leaving you. It lets him know how loyal you are to him, also because it just gives him pleasure to hear your cries and whimpers.

He would make it up to you though, all you need is a few kisses and touches and your teary-eyed self will turn into a happy pup within a few seconds.

Dottore would always call you either 'darling' or 'dearest'. It always makes you flustered when you hear the nickname roll off his tongue whenever he is calling for you.

He would always give you tiny trinkets and souvenirs whenever he got back from a mission.

"I saw this on one of the stalls I passed by and it reminded me of you so I just had to get it, darling."

Dottore would always make sure you're either holding his hand or clinging onto his arm whenever you two would be out of the palace. It's much easier to hold you close to him and to let other people know that you belong to him only.

He would always praise you in private whenever you would do something that appeals him. He's already manipulating you, he might as well ease your mind with praises.

He once embedded his name onto your scapula using a scalpel, he made sure to give you anaesthesia to help numb the pain. Sure he doesn't like seeing your body filled with bruises and scars but he just couldn't help himself. He needed to make sure you were only his.

Kisses on the lips is Dottore's favorite thing. He would watch you stand on your toes just to reach him. The sight was enough to make him chuckle before he removed his mask and placing a kiss on your lips.

Dottore doesn't say 'I love you' first. You would have to be the one to initiate it. But he does have a different way to express his love for you. He would always remind you that you belong to him.

Here you are now, laying on your shared bed. You were laying on top of Dottore as you two cuddled together.

It was one of those days where Dottore had just finished his meeting with the other harbingers. He was very annoyed at how long it took, he'd rather spend his time with you than listen to Tartaglia and Balladeer fighting against each other.

"You're mine. Do you understand?"

"Yes.. I'm yours and only yours."

"Very good, darling."

You heard him hum in reply as you felt his fingers trace across your shoulders to your back, rubbing circles on a certain area. Unknown to you, he was tracing along the scars he left that showed his name.

"Dottore..?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

Dottore could only grin before placing a soft kiss against your lips.

"... I love you as well, dearest."

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #dottore x reader #dottore #zandik x reader #gender neutral reader #il dottore

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belphegorbillickin · 8 months ago

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Autistic MC with Beel & Belphie

(CW!:) Belphie is selfish and manipulative as always, it's not really a healthy relationship even if it's a loving one. Stop reading at "He's the voice" to avoid it, though Beelzebub is also there to balance it out.

The same disclaimer for the previous set of autistic MC HCs applies.

This is not a even a remotely good indicator for self-suspecting autism and plenty of these things could easily be relatable to allistics, even the most mentally healthy neurotypicals.

So of course everyone is free to enjoy and relate to it! ^_^

Beelzebub:

Get ready for the best damn hugs of your life! Whatever way you want to be hugged, Beelzebub will deliver, anytime and anywhere. Well, unless you want to be bigger or even just the same size as the person hugging you, but Beel's devoted enough to try to find a way to shrink for a bit if that's what you really want. Plus, think about how much bigger food would be in comparison!

Speaking of food, if there's any kind of texture you don't want to eat, or any other restrictions of course, Beel is more than happy to do it for you. He'll even pretend to steal it off your plate and let himself get lectured for it if you're in a situation where someone is trying to force you to eat something. Though he does try to make sure you're getting enough nutrition himself.

Beelzebub will always ensure you have something you can eat to the best of his abilities. He wouldn't mind ordering takeout or picking something up together afterward at all. Hell, you'd probably catch him trying to go out during a massive storm for one of your snacks. He always tries to have your favorite foods on hand just in case, even if it means constantly having to replace them because he can't resist the idea of sharing something you love. Beel also understands that all of smacking and chewing can be sensory hell even for "normal people," so he'll always give you a head's up before eating so you can put your headphones on and try to eat before hanging out with you if he can. Belphie will also happily give you the food off of his plate any time you want it, but he does the same for Beelzebub and is a bit of a picky eater with a low appetite himself, so do make sure he's eating enough when Beel is distracted.

He's also a great cook and a very patient teacher that'll eat any and all failed attempts, so he'd be more than happy to try to help you improve your cooking skills if that's something you struggle with. Beel's definitely the kinda guy that'd put all the knives out of reach if you really struggle with your motor skills though, and would only let you start peeling/chopping with safety gloves on. He doesn't mind taking on all the steps that give you a lot of trouble either. Even just staying with him as he cooks, keeping him distracted, and reminding him that he can't eat it all is more than enough to keep him happy.

Beelzebub is very intrigued by the concept of chew necklaces if you use them. He may or may not have tried one of yours he saw lying around. …It didn't end well. He basically impaled it on his massive teeth on the first gentle bite. It didn't even taste like anything either. He really can't see the appeal of it at all… You'll have to explain to him that it's just for the feeling of chewing, not actually eating, to help keep you from biting things you shouldn't. When you put it that way, he really sympathizes. Beelzebub actually thinks it's really cute that you kind of have something in common like that. Needless to say, he definitely fights for your right to keep it on you when you need it.

And if anyone has a problem with you or your needs? They have a problem with Beelzebub, and anyone who has a problem with Beelzebub has a problem with his brothers. Beelzebub's been the glue holding the family together for centuries and he'll gladly be the glue holding you together if you'd let him. He's incredibly patient with stuttering and does his best to protect MC from their harmful stims. He'll actively encourage, or rather almost force you, to take it out on him instead. Go on, don't worry, you'll break your own bones before you give him so much as a tiny scratch or a bruise.

Beelzebub is very empathetic when it comes to the people he cares about, and the most emotionally intelligent brother by far. He'd prefer for you to come and try to communicate with him when you're feeling down or overwhelmed before it becomes a big deal and would try to encourage you to do so, but he's always keeping an eye out and ready to intervene. If you're the kind of person that shuts down and needs to be left alone? He'll immediately put Belphie into a headlock, prying him and anyone else away if need be. He'd do his best to help encourage healthy habits and slow but steady growth, not allowing anyone to shove you into something you're not ready for, even if that day may never come. He's also very much able to sympathize with feeling "worthless" due to not being able to do as much as other people and feeling "slow," and does his best to try to keep you from feeling the same way.

Beel's also a great listener and almost always happy to just hang out, regardless of whatever it is y'all are doing together, so he's by far the best one to go to when no one else shares your interests. Feel free to chatter on about it on his back while he does his push-ups or while y'all are doing chores together and he'll surprise you with how much of it he retains and tries to bond with you over. He'd love for you to at least come to his most important games and would try to make it as accessible as possible, but he understands that it's not always enough. Do be sure to support him in your own way though, he'd very much appreciate it!

Belphegor:

Who needs a weighted blanket when you have Belphie? Probably most people tbh, considering blankets don't have horns or thorny tails and don't actively resist being moved around or, god forbid, being left behind. Belphie's extremely clingy and tactile by nature when he likes someone, and he doesn't handle rejection very well. Which is definitely something that's an issue when you have sensory issues and can't stand the feeling of someone's hair or breath on you, or even any kind of touch at all (even through thick clothes and blankets) most of the time.

At least he can always guarantee a good night's sleep regardless of any noises, stressors, or changes in routine; so long as you trust enough to let him use his powers on you anyway. He promises getting addicted to his magic is mostly harmless, as long as you always keep him around and never ever sleep without him again. He'll let you come running any time you need his soothing voice and powers to help calm yourself down, actively encourages you to let him free you from your physical prison as often as you'd like.

But feel free to be as blunt about your boundaries as you need to be. It's pretty much the only way he'll listen, and he's fairly used to it after spending an eternity with Beelzebub anyway. He'll learn to adapt to your limits so long as they apply to everyone. While Belphegor may not be anywhere near as kind or empathetic as Beel is, he's still very devoted to the very few people he chooses to let in and catches on quickly. He will listen if you tell him if you need to be left alone in complete and utter silence when you start getting overstimulated, though he'll also say it doesn't count if he's just passed out in the corner (even though it very much does) at first. You don't have to worry about softening up your sentences and micromanaging your tone with either of the twins really, they're both the "actions over words" type and won't overthink it unless you are the kind of person to be passive-aggressive. Even then, he can when you're just being blunt vs intentionally hurtful, though he'll definitely use it to his advantage against his "rivals." Belphegor would probably (playfully) give you some shit for it at first, but he's just being a dick, as is his nature, and will drop it the second he notices it hurts you, (if it would), once you two become close.

Similar to Satan, Belphie also automatically explains anything he knows you won't/didn't get, though only if he feels like it's necessary and in a much more arrogant manner by default. He's actually not being condescending on purpose for once, it just comes so naturally to him that he doesn't always know how to explain things and he's already used to doing most of the critical thinking for Beelzebub. God forbid anyone else talks down to you though, he's just as protective of you as he is of Beelzebub, if not more so. He has his blind spots, but he won't force you into anything that would cause real distress and will intervene if someone else does. Especially if that someone is Lucifer or Diavolo.

Belphie's still his lazy, bratty self, but he does put more effort into maintaining his schedule if he knows it really stresses you out, and he'll gladly take the blame for "forcing" you to sleep through any and all events you'd hate to sit through. He's the voice that's always telling you that it's okay to not even try, that it'll never be anything but stressful no matter how hard you try and that's okay to just let it go. To just let him handle everything and try to relax. "Why bother trying to explain your issues to someone who will always see it as an excuse?" and etc. It's done with mostly good intentions, as good as a demon could ever have anyway, but he is very much an enabler of the worst kind, similar to Leviathan, and could easily create a very codependent relationship where you slowly start to lose your skills and built-up tolerance until you're left more disabled than you were before.

It's actually one of the only things the twins ever seriously fight over, as Beelzebub disagrees with his approach and knows he's just making things harder for you in the end. He's very much of the belief that loving someone means helping them become their best, most healthiest self whereas Belphie believes there's no harm in letting you become as dependent on them as possible, because they'll always be there to help you. Beelzebub still believes a bit of suffering is healthy and necessary to improve regardless, and Belphegor still believes you should be able to avoid anything that makes you even slightly uncomfortable (unless he's really set on something) even if it makes it harder to cope in the end, regardless of how many times they argue. In the end, whether or not you fall to temptation completely is your choice, even if Belphegor will do his best to convince you he knows what's best for you.

I had wanted to get this out for their birthday, but Belphie is such an ass & I know this kind of HC doesn't actually make me feel reassured unless the characters are actually in-character, but I know it's the exact opposite for what seems like most(?) people & I didn't want to advertise comfort just for it to upset everyone, but… : / I can't write pure fluff with anyone but Beelzebub anyway tbh, and it's a bit of a struggle even then. Ngl, Beelzebub, Satan, and maybe Mammon depending on the MC (if they only date him) are probably the only ones any MC could realistically ever have a halfway healthy relationship with imo. (And I'm purposely excluding Simeon and Solomon from this list.)

#obey me beelzebub #belphegor x reader #obey me belphegor #beelzebub x reader #autistic reader #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me #x reader

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coopigeoncoo · 1 year ago

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The Cardinal Rule

Pairing: Hawks/Gender Neutral Reader

Rating: Teen+

Tags: Romantic Comedy, Bird Puns, Ritual Blood Letting, Blood and Injury, Descriptions of Surgical Procedures, Vomit, The Teachings of Karl Marx

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A story where Hawks learns that while humans might be awed by his flying skills, the bird population is decidedly less impressed.

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"The birds are refusing to work until their demands are met," you explained, trying to subtly slide your body between Hawks and the birds who were quite literally calling for bloodshed.

"Which are?" Hawks asked as he lifted the bottle of water to his mouth and took a long sip.

"They, ah, want you held accountable for your numerous bird crimes."

Hawks abruptly choked, water spurting from the corner of his lips as he attempted to swallow the remaining liquid as he sputtered helplessly.

"My what?" He coughed, thumping solidly on his chest with a closed fist.

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Continue Reading below or follow the link to Ao3!

The air inside the studio was stifling; hot from the numerous bodies crammed into one room and the too-bright spotlights shining down onto the immaculately styled set pieces. The entire thing looked like something your Art History Professor would have gushed over, the words ‘Brutalistic’ and ‘Industrial’ echoing through your head in their booming voice. And you understood this set design just about as much as you understood that entire unit in school- pretty much not at all.

But it wasn’t your job to understand the aesthetic appeal of the bone white pillars jutting out from the concrete floor at harsh angles. Your job was to mind the birds.

You liked your job at the bird rehabilitation center well enough and found it soothing most days. Getting to spend your days caring for sick and infirmed birds was emotionally rewarding as well as lucrative. It turns out that Ornithologists were very willing to shell out the big bucks to have someone with an Avian Communication Quirk on their payroll. You had cemented yourself as an irreplaceable employee when you single handedly turned a failing breeding program around by informing the lead scientist that the female bird wasn’t receptive to the male’s advances because she thought he didn’t groom himself well enough. One emergency bath later and the courtship proceeded without a hitch. Last you heard the endangered pair was happily raising their forth successful brood.

The only part of your work you didn’t like was what you were forced into doing today; accompanying the birds on sojourns outside of the rescue facility. Schools loved to have the birds visit as they were a good distraction for the children that allowed the harried teachers to catch their breaths and chug a cup of coffee while your feathered companions dazzled the students with their aerial acrobatics. And even though those bouts of public speaking absolutely wracked your nerves, you would happily subject yourself to a dozen school assemblies if it meant escaping the hell that was waiting stand-by at a Pro Hero photo shoot.

Pro Heroes, by the nature of their work, had unpredictable schedules at best and were unreachable at worst, leaving the support and PR people who orbited around them in a perpetual state of limbo. In general, you found lateness to be deeply inconsiderate of everybody’s time and energy, but it was a social faux paus to call Heroes out on their tardiness. They were usually late due to being called out for emergencies and rescues, so chiding them for missing appointments was a surefire way to come off looking like an absolute jerk to the public at large.

But internally you can, and often do, curse them for keeping you waiting in a sweltering studio for hours as your birds grew increasingly agitated and your stock of treats ran low.

“Hot," a brilliant red cardinal complained, hopping into the bowl of water you had placed at the bottom of his cage.

“I know, buddy. Hold on just a little longer, okay?”

“Too many suns,” one of the hawks complained, ducking her head beneath her wing to block out the blinding glow of the stand lights.

“There sure are. Do you want me to put a blanket over your cage?”

“Yes,” she agreed readily, shifting her weight from foot to foot in irritation as pulled out a dark blue blanket and draped it over the side of her cage that faced the lights.

A frazzled looking assistant darted your way, hand pressed to the earpiece of their headset as she took in the newest bout of information being relayed.

"Hawks is on-site now. He's just about done in wardrobe and then he'll make his way here," the assistant said, her eyes frantically scanning over the clipboard in her hands.

"Thank goodness," you sighed, turning to the cages that housed the birds. "Are you all ready?"

"Leave? Leave now?" The cardinal chirped, bouncing excitedly in his bath.

"Unfortunately, no. We still have work to do."

"Not ready then," the cardinal huffed petulantly, puffing up his bright red body as he sank down into his pool.

"C'mon, it won't be too bad! If you all follow directions I bet the photos will go really fast and we'll be out of here in no time!" You assured the tiny red bird, crouching down to give him your full attention as he flapped his wings too fast and sent water sloshing out of his pool.

"Treat would make me ready," the cardinal said slyly, tilting his head to the side in an attempt to distract you from his manipulations by reminding you of how cute he was.

"Treat?" The overwhelmed hawk inquired, peeping her head from around her shroud.

"Treat?" A dove cooed, nudging its friends awake who immediately joined in with the call for snacks.

"Treat! Treat!" The birds chirped and squawked, hitting their wings against the side of their cage and creating a loud enough ruckus that people were beginning to send irritated glances your way.

"Okay!," you hissed in capitulation, pulling a handful of dried crickets out of a paper bag. "But this is the last of the treats I brought with me, so you all need to behave and make it through the rest of the photoshoot. Got it?"

"Yes, yes," the cardinal readily agreed, bouncing along the bottom of his cage and picking up the grasshopper in its beak, chomping happily. "Be good. Promise."

The cardinal was a dirty rotten liar.

Snacks had bought you a tentative peace that lasted until the moment Hawks arrived on set. The birds took one look at the Hero and promptly began screeching, startling everyone in the studio and causing more than one person to drop their cup of coffee in surprise. Hawks took to air, landing on top of one of the pillars and artfully arranged himself according to the Photographer's instructions while your birds went wild; hurling insults his way.

"Rude! Rude bird!" The cockatoo called, flairing his crest in displeasure.

"Bad flier!" The doves chastised together with sharp clicks of their beaks.

"Miscreant!" The cardinal called, easily the most wound up of the bunch, fluffing up his feathers to look threatening. "Criminal!"

"Hey, guys! Shhhh, you have to quiet down!" You begged, aware of all the judgemental glares settling onto your back like a physical weight. "You promised you'd behave!"

"No behave! Need justice!" The cardinal called, hopping up onto his perch and opening his bright orange beak to let out a high pitched chirp. " JUSTICE!"

"Justice!" The rest of the birds echoed. Justice! Justice! Justice!"

"We're ready for the birds on set!" The assistant informed you as she motioned over her shoulder to where the photographer circled around Hawks, snapping a few last minute test shots.

"Right," you coughed nervously. "About that."

"What do you mean the birds refuse to work?!" The photographer roared in your face, his cheeks colored a splotchy red. "They're birds! "

"Yes, they are. And they refuse to take pictures with Hawks."

"All of them?" The photographer scrubbed a frustrated hand down his face, a vein at his temple pulsating in time with his thundering heartbeat.

"Seems like," you admit with a sheepish shrug. "It's pretty unusual for them to agree on anything like this. The raptors and the songbirds are almost always at odds with each other."

"I'm so glad they've managed to achieve bird peace instead of doing, oh, I don't know; WHAT I'VE PAID FOR THEM TO DO!" The photographer bellowed through gritted teeth, pulling out fistfuls of his already thinning hair in frustration.

"No price on honor!" The cardinal chirped boldly, the other birds supporting their tweeted proclamation with chirps of their own.

"What's going in here?" A passing member of the crew asked, hoisting a coiled extension cord up onto his shoulder.

"The birds are uh- unionizing, apparently? And have decided to go on strike," you explain.

"Really?" The man said, eyes wide in astonishment as he gave the birds a thumbs up and a wide smile. "Right on, little dudes! Fight the power!"

"Yes! Fight! Fight!" The cardinal called.

"Fight!" The birds chorused.

"Bite! Bite!" The cardinal screeched as he snapped his beak in demonstration.

"You uh, might want to get away from the cages," you warn the photographer. "They're starting to call for violence."

The photographer turned away from the cages and appeared to take cleansing breaths before he noticed the crew orderly filing out of the studio.

"Wait!" The photographer called out to the workers. "Where are you going?"

"Sorry man, but we don't cross picket lines," the man holding the extension cord explained as he grabbed a soggy donut from craft services table on his way out the door. The crew's act of solidarity seemed to please the birds, who let out joyous calls in return.

"We are flock!" The cardinal cheered. "The flock is strong!"

"I'm so going to get fired for this," you mutter despondently as the birds began flipping over their feeders, spilling seeds and slices of fresh fruit across the studio floor.

"So what's the excitement over here all about?" Hawks asked, finally curious enough about the disruption your birds were causing to come over and investigate.

"So, um. The birds are upset, " you begin warily, hyper aware that the birds were screeching louder and louder with every step Hawks took towards their cages.

"I can see that," he smirked as he twisted the lid off of a bottle of water, the lopsided grin perfectly at home on his scruffy face.

"And they're refusing to work until their demands are met," you explained, trying to subtly slide your body between Hawks and the birds who were quite literally calling for bloodshed.

"Which are?" Hawks asked as he lifted the bottle of water to his mouth and took a long sip.

"They, ah, want you held accountable for your numerous bird crimes."

Hawks abruptly choked, water spurting from the corner of his lips as he attempted to swallow the remaining liquid as he sputtered helplessly.

"My what? " He coughed, thumping solidly on his chest with a closed fist.

"Crimes! So many crimes!" The cardinal squawked. "Criminal!"

"Villain! Bad Hawk!" The hawk supplied, eager to distance herself from this other hawk's misdeeds.

"You seem to have acquired a terrible reputation amongst the bird population in the city. They're calling you a Villain," you explain ruefully, desperately wishing that you had woken up dead this morning so you could have avoided this entire mortifying ordeal.

"Tell me- tell me everything, " Hawks sputtered, staring intensely at the rioting birds with wide golden eyes.

Since you were the only person who could understand both human and avians, you were selected to mediate by default. The birds, unsurprisingly, chose the rabble-rousing cardinal as their representative.

"I'm going to let you out of the cage now," you told the cardinal, unlocking the door to his enclosure. "No funny business or you're going right back in, understood?"

"Yes," the cardinal groused, hopping up and down to psych himself up for confronting the number one bird-sona non grata.

"That means no biting."

"..."

"Agree not to bite or I'm leaving you in the cage."

"Fine," the cardinal agreed, puffing his feathers up in irritation. "No bite."

"Took him a while to agree to that rule," Hawks murmured uneasily, eyeing the cardinal's sharp orange beak.

"Yeah, they made up a song about biting you earlier and I think it got him really excited about the prospect."

"Oh, wow," Hawks said, a genuine thread of amazement lacing through his words. "They've really put a lot of effort into hating me."

"Yeah, they really have. It's super impressive, right?"

"No chatting!" The cardinal admonished, squeezing your finger with his tiny feet; talons prickling your skin. "List his crimes! Prepare for judgment!"

"Right, okay. So, their biggest complaint is that you're an inconsiderate flier," you begin, keeping an eye on the cardinal perched on your finger as he nods along to your words.

"Inconsiderate how?"

"For starters, you often fly through a flock. That makes them consider you a predator and unnecessarily stresses them out. It's an especially big deal during the spring when the females are incubating."

"I see," Hawks murmured, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

You listened closely to the clarifying chirp of the cardinal before addressing Hawks once more. "He says that you will also position yourself at the front of a flock, putting yourself in charge of navigation and end up leading them wildly off course."

"I had no idea," Hawks admitted with a sigh, grimacing under the beady glare of the cockatoo. "I was just enjoying their company while I flew."

"And that's kind of the underlying issue here," you point out, running a calming finger over the fluffy crest of feathers atop his head. "You're playing on their field but totally ignoring the rules of the game and just sowing chaos everywhere you fly."

"I feel like a complete jerk," Hawks admitted, moving his head so he was face to face with the feisty cardinal. "I'm sorry for causing trouble and making such a mess of things. I'll be much more conscious about how I fly in the future."

The cardinal was quiet on your finger, mulling over Hawk's words thoughtfully.

"Tell him more."

"Really?" You groan. "Can't you just accept his apology and move on?"

"Hear all crimes! Then retribution!"

"Okay, so are you ready to hear the rest?"

"There's more? " Hawks asked incredulously, staring at the cardinal with wide eyes.

"You better grab a seat," you advise him with a sigh. "It's a long list of complaints."

To his immense credit, Hawks sat through the translated tongue lashing with rapt attention, taking in each and every criticism with a solemn nod of his head. He was accused of everything from taking up all the best perches to not sharing the snacks he brought up onto rooftops with him. That one seemed especially egregious in the eyes of the birds, as the mere mention of unshared snacks past sent them into a wild screeching fit it took you minutes to calm them down from.

"Last crime," the cardinal proclaimed grandiosely, as though he was delivering a sermon from a pulpit and not yelling at an increasingly despondent man while perched on your finger. "Duck got head stuck in fence. Hawks took picture and laughed!"

"You laughed and took a picture of a duck that got its head stuck in a fence?"

"Yeah," Hawks winced, fingers running across the grooves in his water bottle nervously. "I freed them afterwards though!"

"After you laughed at them and took a picture, you mean?" You huffed, completely siding with the birds in this particular instance.

"Crimes done. Retribution now!" The cardinal chirped, sending the rest of the birds into an uproar of wildly flapping wings and agreeing squeaks.

"What's he saying?"

"He's, uh, calling for retribution."

"Feathers and blood!" The cardinal demanded.

"Feathers and blood!" The doves warbled in agreement.

"They're calling for your feathers and blood," you informed the Hero.

"And snacks!" The hawk added, the rest of the birds silent as they considered the added request.

"Yes, snacks!" The cardinal chirped in triumph as the rest of the birds joined him in his chant. "Snacks! Snacks! Snacks!"

"Feathers, blood…and snacks," you clarify, watching anxiously as Hawks' brow furrowed deeply in thought.

"I agree to your terms," Hawks said, holding out his extended index finger in front of the cardinal. "Blood and feathers now, with snacks to be delivered later. Deal?"

The cardinal, being a legitimately good representative for his species, turned to briefly confer with the rest of the birds before hopping from your finger onto Hawks'; the closest approximation to a handshake as they could get.

"It's a deal," you smiled brightly to Hawks, who returned your brilliant grin with one of his own that set off sharp pangs of nervousness in your belly. It had been easy to ignore how handsome he was while you were busy trying to quell a feathery uprising; but now that the panic that had been crashing through your body was abating, your brain had apparently decided you had more than enough brain cells free to contemplate how pleasing Hawks' appearance was.

He was a bit more disheveled than he was at the start of this entire debacle, hair tousled from where he had run his hands through it in bouts of sheepishness; but he still looked put together and expertly coiffed. You, on the other hand, could tell that an entire day spent in a sweltering room hadn't done you any favors by the way your uniform polo clung to your sweat-dampened skin. Suddenly self conscious and desperate for a shower, you puff your chest out in a false show of bravado and do your best to move things along.

"Alright, which do you want to do first? The blood or the feathers?"

The birds, by and large, considered giving up feathers to be the most important act of contrition and agreed that the request for blood was mostly just a ceremonial inclusion for traditions sake. But Hawks, determined to repent, ran one of his sharpened feathers across his forearm with no complaint; dulling the blood tipped feather and presenting it to the cardinal with a deep bow.

The cardinal accepted the offering with a pleased chirp, taking the feather in his beak and carefully tucking it in amongst his tail feathers. Hawks' plume, being about twice the length of the entire cardinal, trailed out comically from his tail and made him look like a far more exotic bird than he actually was.

"Atonement!" The cardinal cried, shaking his new tail feather for his comrades to see.

"So red!" A dove praised.

"Very shiny," the cockatoo nodded.

"Well, that's one down," Hawks said as he curled his left wing in front of his body, hands already running through his feathers as he carefully selected his next offering. "Who's next?"

"Me! Me! Me!" The birds chirped in unison, a great many hopping up and down in their excitement to possess a colorful new treasure.

"You don't have to give them all feathers, Hawks," you assured him as you frantically calculated how many birds you'd brought with you versus how many feathers he could probably surrender while still retaining his ability to fly. "I know you need them for your job."

"That's true," Hawks nodded as he plucked out another feather and presented it to a brown-headed thrush. "But I also need to hold myself accountable for my mistakes. The birds have very generously offered me a way to make things right, and I won't take this opportunity for granted."

You didn't know what to say so you opted instead for silence, watching intently as he methodically worked his way through the collected cages; respectful and solemn as he repeated the feather presentation for each and every bird.

The photographer had been thrilled when he returned to set and found Hawks in place on set, lounging bonelessly across the pillars with a collection of raptors perched around him. That excitement faded quickly when he saw the bare patches in Hawks' normally full wings, a far cry from the picture perfect style he'd be envisioning.

Hawks had simply run an admiring finger across the bright red feather tucked into an eagle's wing and proclaimed that 'He liked it better this way' and that was that. The photographer began barking orders and the crew jumped into action, adjusting light positioning and turning on a wind machine to ruffle everyone's feathers just so.

The rest of the shoot went by smoothly, and in no time at all you were refilling water dishes and loading up the cages into the back of the large box truck with the bird rescues' name and phone number stenciled onto the back. You cranked the AC up to the highest setting and sank down into the faux leather driver's seat, enjoying the merciless onslaught of frigid air on your overheated skin as you buckled up.

Peering into your side mirror, you were startled by the presence of the Number Two Hero illuminated in the red glow of your taillights. He was leaning out of the studio exit, a small smile tugging at his lips and a hand held up in farewell while you shifted the truck into drive and rolled out of the parking lot. The sharp shrill of birds complaining as you hit a pothole pulled your attention back to the road and away from Hawks' golden eyes; glowing brightly from the shadows.

It was hard not to think about Hawks as you cruised along on the empty highway, so you allowed yourself a brief flight of fancy; reminiscing about the scant distance between your bodies and the tangy redolence of his cologne.

It would be a good story to regale your coworkers with over drinks and to pull out at parties when you needed to impress someone; the tale of a bird rebellion and how Hawks managed to both literally and figuratively soothe the birds' ruffled feathers. A once in a lifetime meeting that you would think back fondly on, made ever more precious by the knowledge that such a thing would never occur again.

It wasn't like you to answer your personal phone at work, but it also wasn't something that had honestly ever happened before. Your family knew your work schedule and your friends all belonged to the very reasonable school of thought where they would rather drink poison than talk on the phone, so any communication from them would arrive in text form. Curious, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket and swiped to answer; stomach plummeting to your feet when your camera booted up and you belatedly realized you'd accepted a request to video chat.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit, " you swore, reaching to press the disconnect button as Hawks' beaming face appeared on screen.

"Hey there!," he greeted cheerily, face disappearing from view as he momentarily fumbled with his phone.

"Hawks? " You croak in disbelief, quickly examining your appearance in the small facecam and hurriedly knocking a chunk of dried mealworm out of your hair.

"That's what they call me!"

"Are you- is everything okay?" You manage to stammer out, impressed that you managed to say actual words and not a series of confused grunts.

"Everything is fine! I was just calling to thank you for all your help a few weeks back," he explained, the camera drifting off to the side to show off the sprawling city skyline. Wherever Hawks was, he was up high. "Word has been getting around to all the birds around the city and I've noticed a definite shift in their demeanor."

"Oh? How so?"

"Well, for starters, they've stopped dive bombing me mid-flight. And they aren't pooping on that statue of me downtown nearly as much as they used to. Oh! And a couple days ago a crow brought me a couple of soda tabs," Hawks said proudly as he reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out a leather cord with some aluminum pieces tied into the middle. "So I turned them into a necklace!"

"Very stylish," you complimented sincerely, thinking about the box of bird gifted trinkets you had at home and how much each of those shiny bits of metal meant to you.

"And I've taken to carrying around some food for them- bird seed and raisins, mostly; so we can all hang out and eat together!"

"It really sounds like things have turned around for you. I'm glad."

"They really have," Hawks nodded eagerly, phone tilting off-kilter once again as a particularly strong gust blew by. "And it's all because of you."

"I think you're definitely downplaying that cardinal's excellent negotiation tactics," you reminded him as you shuffled a few papers across the top of a nearby desk, trying to distract yourself from the sense of unease you felt under the weight of both his attention and gratitude.

"Speaking of negotiations, did the treats I sent arrive safely? I would hate for this tentative peace we've achieved to crumble due to shipping errors."

"They did!" You assured him, spinning your phone around to point the camera at the large stack of express shipped boxes in the corner. "The birds were very excited when they arrived, but now that they know we have such a huge backlog they just keep bugging me about getting snacks all the time."

"Sorry about that. But sacrifices must be made in the name of peace," Hawks shook his head sadly.

"I think you're a bit more knowledgeable about sacrifices than I am. Are your replacement feathers coming in alright?"

"They've already fully grown back in, see?" He tilted his camera to landscape and extended one wing out to the side, fluffing his feathers to show off how nicely they'd filled in.

"Woah," you whistled in appreciation, cutting off the sound abruptly when you saw his cheeks flush, realizing how inappropriately he had taken your display of awe. "That's ah- really fast for full regrowth."

"That's sort of my thing, you know. Being fast," he smirked proudly before he suddenly froze, cheeks reddening even further as he seemed to sink his face down into the collar of his coat. "Well, uh- most of the time at least. Sometimes I'm slow though. When I want to be. I can be reeeeally slow."

Deciding to ignore his floundering since he had so graciously let your own bout of verbal idiocy pass unmentioned, you frantically gazed around the room and found the perfect segue to shift your conversation back into neutral waters.

"Do you want to see what they did with your feathers?"

"They kept them?" Hawks asked, voice hitching in excitement.

"More than that; they made art with them," you cheerfully explained, flipping the phone around to show off the wreath hanging in the window a handful of weaver birds had worked together to craft; Hawk's brilliant red feathers tucked and woven amongst reedy pieces of grass and straw. "Since there weren't enough feathers for every bird here at the rescue, they thought that displaying them publicly was more fair."

"Wow," Hawks breathed, impressed by both their craft skills and sense of equitability. "They're really taking this union thing seriously."

"You have no idea," you laughed dryly. "They're starting to talk about collecting dues. "

It was strange how quickly you became accustomed to communicating with Hawks. Calls were a rare occurrence due to how overwhelmingly busy he was pretty much every moment of the day. There were multiple instances where you would be texting, sending funny memes back and forth to each other, and then mere moments after his last message was sent you would see him flash across the screen in a live news broadcast. A blur of red and beige swooping in to pull civilians out of harm's way or expertly apprehend Villains without breaking a sweat.

Knowing how full Hawks' schedule was made you even more appreciative of that evening he'd spent with you and the birds all those weeks ago. You had thought that the feathers were the most valuable thing he had given up that day, but you now knew that his time was an infinitely more precious commodity.

So you treasured each moment that he chose to share with you, regardless of the form it took. Snapshots of cute birds he'd seen on patrol, lengthy personal reviews of what had to be every fried chicken restaurant in the city, and picking up the phone whenever he was free to chat.

Even when that call came in at four in the morning, like today.

"You should try to eat breakfast before you crash for the night," you reminded him, tone a touch scolding because this was not the first time you'd had to remind him to make time for a meal.

"I don't like breakfast foods," Hawks grumbled, lip stuck out in a deep pout as he trudged towards his kitchen.

"You don't have to eat breakfast foods, you just have to eat, " you huff in exasperation, grabbing a box of cereal from your pantry, hoping that a healthy dose of peer pressure might tip the scales in your favor. "Cold pizza was invented for pretty much this exact purpose."

"I don't think I have any pizza," Hawks muttered, prying open the double doors of his fridge and examining the contents critically. "I think I have the stuff for a sandwich though."

"Sandwiches are good. They meet all the necessary desperation meal requirements."

"Which are?" Hawks asked as he shoved a packet of lunch meat into the crook of his arm and sent a couple of feathers in to grab condiments so he wouldn't have to set down his phone.

"They contain calories and don't dirty up too many dishes," you explain, hip checking your own fridge closed as you grab a carton of milk. "Handfuls of cheese you eat over the sink are also a classic choice."

"What are you eating?"

"Cereal," you say, holding up your bowl of puffed grains next to your face for his inspection.

"Ugh, gross," he says, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"I'm going to toss some berries on top."

"That doesn't make the cereal better, that just makes the berries worse, " he complained as he squirted a generous serving of mayonnaise across a slice of bread, paused, and then squeezed on some more.

"Hey, now! If I wanted this level of judgment before the sun came up I would talk to my Grandma instead," you huffed, shoving a spoonful of cereal into your mouth and bringing the microphone closer to your jaw to subject Hawks to the loudest crunching sounds you could manage.

"I- sorry," he sighed, shoulders drooping in exhaustion. "I didn't mean to be so prickly. Today was…really rough."

"I know," you said soothingly. "I saw the News. Even went to bed early because I thought you might call."

"Thank you," he says, voice small so it could slip past the emotions welling in his throat. "For picking up."

"Anytime, Hawks," you assured him, eyes darting to the time displayed in the upper corner of your phone screen. "Literally."

You, 11:45am

"Hey, Hawks? I have a question."

Hawks, 11:52am

"Of course! What's up?"

You, 11:53am

"I've been wondering for a while now- how did you get my phone number?"

Hawks, 1:15pm

"I saw the rescue logo on the back of the truck when you were leaving the photo shoot."

"Called them up and told them how impressed I was with your professionalism and how I wanted to thank you personally."

You, 1:18pm

"And they just gave you my number?!"

Hawks, 1:20pm

"Yep. Major breach of confidentiality. You might want to look into that, actually.

"They didn't ask me to verify my identity or anything!"

You, 1:22

"Gotta go. I need to send a strongly worded letter to HR."

Hawks, 1:25

"Make sure to start it with a 'To Whom It May Concern'; let them know you really mean business!"

The familiar jingle of Hawk's custom ringtone only sounded for a moment before you were able to swap which hand was holding onto your grocery basket and fish your phone out of your back pocket.

"Hey, there!" Hawks greeted, smile strained as he waved his arm around frantically at something off screen. "Can I- Ugh! Ask for a favor in a- argh! Professional capacity?"

"Uh, sure?" You agreed, re-shelving a can of soup you were having second thoughts about.

"Great!" Hawks shouted in relief, pulling a flailing pigeon into frame, reeling back momentarily as he took a wing straight to the face. "This little cutie has been following me for hours , trying to- oof! Get my attention and I'm starting to get very curious as to their underlying motivation."

"Maybe she just wants an autograph?" You joke, snorting in amusement as Hawks dodged another hit from the distressed bird.

"I'll give her whatever she wants if she just- ugh ! Stops hitting me!"

You whistled shrilly, gaining the attention of nearby shoppers and the pigeon on Hawks' end; the bird stilling in his hands at your call. "Hey, little pigeon. What's going on?"

The pigeon launched into a series of urgent coos, head bobbing along frantically with her cries.

"Are you sure?" You asked, eyes wide as she cooed in confirmation, heaving a relieved sigh that her message had been successfully conveyed.

"What? What is it?" Hawks asked anxiously, cradling the bird snugly to his chest now that she wasn't a thrashing mass of beak and talons.

"She says, ah-," you pause, looking around at all the shoppers lingering about you with prying eyes. Flashing them a wobbly smile, you quickly shuffle off towards the other end of the store, dropping your voice to a whisper in a bid for some level of confidentiality. "She says that she knows where they're hiding all the drugs?"

It's quiet for a moment as Hawks peers down at the pigeon in his hands with comically wide eyes before he shifts into a more professional demeanor; shooting a too-bright smile at you through his phone.

"I've gotta' go now! Bye!"

Your phone kicks you back to your home screen as he hangs up, leaving you staring at your phone; dumbfounded by the abrupt turn of events.

A few days passed before you heard from Hawks again, and when the next call came in he wasn't alone.

"This is Cookie," he beamed as he proudly introduced the familiar pigeon perched on his shoulder. "Get it? Because you can't spell 'Cookie' without 'coo'? And she's a pigeon? And pigeons-"

"-pigeons say 'coo'. Yeah, I get it," you groan miserably. After years working at the rescue you had limited patience for bird jokes and were pretty sure you had heard them all hundreds of times by this point. Unfortunately for you, Hawks seemed to have acquired puns as a second language and was determined to impress you with his fluency.

"Anyway, it turns out Cookie has a real knack for surveillance. She led me right to a massive distribution center that was operating right under our noses."

"Is it okay for you to be telling me all of this?"

"Probably not!" Hawks laughed, bringing a finger up to give Cookie an affectionate scratch at the side of her head. "Anyway, I hope you weren't too attached to that dim sum place downtown. It was totally a drug front."

"Wait- the one with the little ginger dumplings?" You gasped in dawning horror.

"The very same."

"And the chef-?"

"The ringleader of the entire operation, I'm afraid."

"God dammit!"

"So they pack me up, ship me across the country to some far flung zoo to talk to their penguin in person because he's, and I quote, 'camera shy'. And do you know how that little gremlin thanked me?" You ranted into your phone, freshly clad in an old pair of pajamas with your skin still dewy from your flesh-searingly hot shower.

"He threw up on you, didn't he?" Hawks said, poorly disguising his restrained laughter with a forced cough.

"He threw up on me !" You screeched, throwing your hands up into the air as you fell backwards onto the couch, accidentally smacking yourself in the face with the corner or your phone during your uncontrolled plummet. "Ouch!"

"You alright?" Hawks asked, voice muffled from your speaker being pressed into the couch cushions.

"Yes. And no?" you sigh, rubbing a fist across the rising welt on your temple while you propped your phone up on your stomach, providing Hawks with the most unflattering viewing angle of your face as possible. "Just wishing things were different, I guess?"

"What sorts of things?" Hawks asked quietly, the distant beacons on airplane wings blinking methodically in the night sky behind him; false stars in a pollution filled sky.

"I don't know. Everything? I wish I had a different job, one where penguins didn't vomit on me. Or a different Quirk. Just- an entirely different life, sometimes."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I thought," Hawks paused, allowing himself to carefully select his words. "I thought you liked your job?"

"I do. Most of the time, at least. But it also feels like I never really have a choice, you know? Like, what else could I really do with a Quirk like mine?"

"You could always not use your Quirk," he said, gaze intensely focused away from his phone on some distant point on the horizon you couldn't see. "Get a job doing something entirely different."

"I didn't want to when I was a kid- use my Quirk, I mean. I wanted to be a doctor. And a best-selling author. And a ninja."

"Quite the triple threat."

"Yeah," you chuckled, thinking back on all the crayon drawings you had made, scribbles of a distant future that would never come to pass. "But everyone said it would be a waste to not use my natural-born talent, especially since it's a moderately useful one."

"I've always wanted to be Hero. For as long as I can remember, that's always been my dream," Hawks stated flatly, with the same lackluster affect of someone discussing the weather; an automatic response honed through years of systematic repetition. "But I get it."

"You do?"

"Yeah," he swallowed thickly, focusing his attention back onto you; eyes glistening strangely with reflections of the city lights.

"It's hard being… pigeonholed into a profession."

"Hawks, noooooo," you groan piteously. "We were having a moment! And you ruined it!"

"I'm sorry!" He lied, head thrown back as he cackled.

"I'm hanging up now," you grumbled, more amused than you were irritated but determined not to let Hawks know that.

"Don't go! I'll be lonely without you!"

"Cookie will keep you company. Won't you, girl?"

At the mention of her name, the pigeon poked her head out from where she was nestled inside of Hawks' collar, cooing her agreement.

"I still can't believe you commissioned a tiny visor for her," you snorted in delight at the miniature replica of Hawks' headset perched on top of Cookie's beak.

"What? She needed it!" Hawks defended, drawing his collar shut and pulling Cookie in more snugly towards his chest. "Her eyes were drying out when I flew too fast!"

"Uh-huh. Sure they were."

"They were! And besides, she likes wearing it," he insists petulantly before he is carried away by a sudden wave of uncertainty. "Right?"

"She does," you assure him. "Cookie really loves being with you, Hawks."

"Really?" He whispered, staring down at the bird in awe, who cooed happily and nuzzled her head into his chin.

A quiet moment stretched on between you, silent except for the sound of your breathing and the distant wail of a car alarm.

"For the record, I think your Quirk is amazing," Hawks said sincerely. "You have this entire extra world you get to communicate with. That's pretty special."

"I guess," you say with a sigh, pushing up into a sitting position with the naive aspirations of mustering up the energy to make it to bed in the next hour or two. "But it's not like they're particularly great conversationalists. Once Spring rolls around I just have to deal with listening to hundreds of voices outside my window screaming about how horny they are for weeks on end."

"You prefer a more subtle seduction method then?" Hawks asked, tone playful and also somehow entirely inappropriate.

"Just a smidgen," you laugh nervously, steadfastly ignoring the frantic beating of your heart.

"I'll make a note of that."

You had grown so used to looking at Hawks through your phone screen that seeing him in person, bursting through the doors of the rescue, was as startling as having ice shoved down the back of your shirt. And that feeling of alarm was quickly upgraded to absolute panic by the fact that he was covered in blood splatter and cradling Cookie's limp and twisted body in his hands.

"HELP!" Hawks yelled, eyes darting wildly around the room as he searched for assistance. There wasn't even time for a single breath between Hawks spotting you and then him suddenly being at your side; a gust of air heralding his arrival before your eyes could even begin to try to focus on where he had been.

"Please! You have to help! Cookie she- she's hurt," Hawks pleaded, his eyes wild as he cradled his injured friend to his chest.

"Let me see," you ordered firmly, prying open Hawks' shaking hands to get a better look at the bird.

"Cold," Cookie warbled weakly when Hawks' hands were pulled away from her body.

"Shh, I know sweet girl," you said soothingly, lifting her as carefully as you could into your own grasp.

"Hawks hurt? Hawks okay?"

"What is it?" Hawks asked anxiously. "What's she saying?"

"She wants to know if you're hurt."

"No," Hawks assured her, voice cracking as he ran soothing fingers across a patch of disheveled feathers between her eyes. "I'm just fine, thanks to you."

"I need to take Cookie now, Hawks," you informed him gently, "I'll take good care of her. I promise."

"I know," he sniffed, wiping damp cheeks onto the sleeve of his coat. "I trust you."

It was hard witnessing Hawks' desperation; seeing someone who was normally a paragon of strength so visibly shaken. It made you scared, having to be strong and brave; to help when a Hero couldn't.

But you could be brave, just this once.

For Hawks' sake.

Just like you, the rest of the staff at the bird rescue had been cherry picked to provide the highest level of Avian care possible. So while Cookie had been grievously injured with an absolutely staggering number of blunt force fractures, there was likely no better place in the city she could have been brought to for treatment.

Cookie had made it through numerous scans and a long operation, but you knew that was only the beginning of her struggle. Her road to recovery would be a long one, and she would likely never be able to fly as well as she did before after having the bones in her left wing nearly ground to dust. But you couldn't bring yourself to feel too discouraged by that bit of bad news in the face of Cookie's near miraculous survival.

There hadn't been anything for you to do during the surgery since you didn’t possess any sort of veterinary license, but Hawks had entrusted Cookie to you and it felt wrong to just leave her. You knew your coworkers well and had the utmost faith in their capabilities, but you'd been determined to stay there beside her should the worst have come to pass.

So you'd tucked yourself into a corner, already overwhelmed and ready to leave before the scalpel had even made its first incision. You’d watched as they cut and tugged and stitched; blood running and bones popping and Quirks glowing. And dear lord, the smells-

It was the absolute worst thing you’d ever witnessed in your life.

But Hawks had trusted you with this; to be where he couldn’t.

And you wouldn't let him down.

Hawks sprang up from his stolen chair behind the reception desk as you stumbled back to the front of the building, heartbeat thundering as images from the surgery clung to the inside of your eyelids; replaying with gruesome clarity every time you blinked.

"How is she?" He asked breathlessly, eager to hear the news but dreading the likely outcome.

“Cookie made it through surgery,” you said, voice too loud as you attempted to make yourself heard over the ringing in your ears. “She’ll survive.”

“Oh, thank God,” Hawks gasped in relief, his words distant and muffled. “I don’t know how to thank you for this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, waving off his gratitude right before you bent forward and threw up all over his boots.

You, 2:14am

“Once again: I’m so sorry about the vomit.”

Hawks, 2:15am

“I told you, it’s fine! Stop apologizing.”

You, 2:15am

“Never. I am going to be apologizing about this for the rest of my life.”

“Every time we meet I’ll be like, ‘Hey, Hawks! How are you? Sorry about horking on your boots that one time.’”

Hawks, 2:17am

“Listen, at least this time you were the one throwing up on a bird instead of having a bird throw up on you!"

You, 2:18am

“You’re not a bird though.”

Hawks, 2:20am

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

You, 2:21am

“I want you to be ASLEEP.”

Hawks, 2:23am

“Best I can do is propping up my feet and chugging an energy drink.”

You, 2:24am

“That isn’t even remotely close to an acceptable substitute.”

Hawks, 2:26am

“That’s all you’re getting. Take it or leave it.”

You, 2:28am

"Fine. But I'm going to tell Cookie you're not taking care of yourself."

Hawks, 2:28am

"Oh, that's low."

You, 2:29am

"I literally threw up on the Number Two Hero yesterday. I cannot possibly get any lower than I already am. I might as well just double down and enjoy the perks of my new bottom dweller status."

You were changing out the bedding in Cookie's cage when she saw it.

"Hawks feathers?" She warbled excitedly at the sight of the brilliant red wreath hanging in the window.

"Oh! Yeah, those are Hawks' feathers all right. Good eye."

"I see?"

"Do you want to perch there while I finish cleaning out your cage?"

"Please," Cookie cooed eagerly, practically vibrating with excitement. It was the most energetic you had seen her since her operation and you were happy to indulge her whims.

"Here you go," you said, lowering her gently into the inner hollow of the wreath. Mindful of her injuries, Cookie nestled down happily into the tangle of grass and feathers.

By the time you had sanitized everything in the cage and tucked a warm water bottle into her bed, Cookie had fallen fast asleep in the cradle of feather wreath. Heart melting, you crept closer on silent feet and took a dozen pictures at various angles and filter settings to send to Hawks later.

You felt a familiar weight settle on your shoulder, needle-like nails scraping for purchase against your skin as the cardinal joined you in observing Cookie's rest.

"Is this okay?" You asked, knowing how important the wreath was to all the birds in the rescue and unsure if napping spot was one of the agreed upon uses for it. To your immense relief, the cardinal bobbed his head in affirmation.

"From each by ability, to each by need," he chirped firmly.

"'To each by need '…?" You echo suspiciously with narrowed eyes. "Has someone been reading Karl Marx to you again?

"The proletariat has nothing to lose but chains!"

After many weeks of worried video calls and unapproved after hours visits that your boss chose to turn a blind eye to after Hawks made a hefty donation, Cookie was ready to be released back into Hawks' care.

"So I need you to sign these discharge papers," you tell Hawks, tapping multiple spaces on the cover page that required his initials and signature. "Mostly just standard release stuff, detailing the treatment plan listing the dates for follow up visits, etcetera, etcetera."

"Got it," Hawks agreed, having one of his feathers sign for him since he was loath to stop cuddling with Cookie for a single instant.

"This one says that I've informed you of all the recommended follow up care."

"Uh-huh," he grinned, happily nuzzling his nose against Cookie's beak as his feather kept scribbling.

"This one says that we cannot be held legally responsible for anything that happens to her once she leaves the rescue."

"Sure," he agreed, chuckling as Cookie nipped playfully at his jaw; feather still dutifully signing away.

"And this one is the list of demands drawn up by Cookie's union."

Hawks paused, brow furrowing as Cookie continued to pluck at his beard scruff.

"The what now?"

Hawks paced as he read through the notes you had typed up on Cookie's behalf. As much as the pigeon adored Hawks and couldn't wait to get back to working alongside him, the cardinal had proven himself to be an incredibly persuasive orator and managed to convince Cookie to submit a list of demands.

"'The Union of Working Birds, henceforth to be referred to as 'The Birds of Pay'', " Hawks snorted in delight. "-'formally submit the following requests. Number one: guaranteed housing'. Done."

"Didn't figure you'd object to that one," you said, having helped Hawks painstakingly pick out supplies to house and care for Cookie in his apartment.

"'Number 2: food will be provided in compensation for labor and will be appropriately calculated by bird weight and provided daily'. No complaints there-," he murmured, voice trailing off as he continued reading as he strode around the room; drawing to a sudden halt about five pages in.

"The demands seem to shift a bit around number forty-tree," Hawks said, clearing his throat dramatically before he began reading aloud again. "'The Birds of Pay retain exclusive rights for requesting avian-based employment with the Hawks Hero Agency'."

"Influence works both ways, Hawks. Just like Cookie was swayed by the cardinal's talk of worker's rights, a lot of the other birds were really impressed by the stories Cookie told about you," you explained. "At this point, you could employ an entire flock of birds if you wanted to."

The air inside your office was the perfect temperature, the thermostat set to exactly where you liked it and not a single degree higher or lower. The furniture selection was a bit too fancy for your liking, polished marble and smudge proof glass where you felt tile and laminate would have sufficed for a fraction of the cost.

But it wasn't your job to understand the aesthetic design choices of Heroes. Your job was to mind the birds.

"Songbird 2, do you copy?" You spoke clearly into your headset listening closely to the responding chirps; eyes glued to the live video feed playing across your screen. "We have all the footage we need. Return to the Aviary, over."

You breathed a sigh of relief as the blackbird chirped in acknowledgement, the video feed shifting from the inside of an abandoned warehouse to a wide expanse of sky as they began to make their way back toward Hawks' agency. It had been a long day of staking out the area of an upcoming Hero Commission raid, but Songbird 2 was the last of the scouts still deployed. The blackbird's return would herald the end of your workday, and you were excited to finally be able to go home indulge in the carton of ice cream you'd been fantasizing about for hours.

"Home safe," the blackbird announced as it flew in through the window that had slid open automatically at their approach; the mechanism responding to the proximity sensor built into the standard Hawks style headgear each bird was equipped with.

"Thank goodness," you smiled, pulling off the tiny headset and visor and setting them to the side for cleaning later. "Your food dish is filled up and waiting."

"Corn?" The blackbird asked, fluffing up its feathers in excitement.

"Why don't you go check and see?"

The blackbird flew quickly towards the cubbyhole it had claimed for its own, one of many set into the large back wall; each filled with lovingly crafted nests and bright wooden toys. You heard the distant cry of 'Corn!' followed by a chorus of shushing sounds from the birds that had been pulled from sleep by the blackbird's delighted cry.

Shaking your head with an amused snort, you move to return to your desk to log out for the day, only to run headlong into Hawks' chest.

"ACK!" You screeched, reeling back in surprise from the impact.

"SHHHHH!" The wall of irritated birds hissed.

"Sorry!" You whispered sheepishly, channeling your embarrassment into making the glare you leveled at Hawks extra piercing.

"All done for the day?" Hawks asked, unmoved by your display of irritation.

"Yep. Everyone is back safe and sound, the surveillance footage has been submitted for review, and now all that remains is for me to clock out and head home," you said as you wandered over to your desk, dropping down into your swivel chair to exit out of the last handful of open programs you had running. "Do you need anything before I leave?"

"Can we chat? For just a little?" He asked as he leaned against your desk, putting far more faith in the structural integrity of the tempered glass than you do. "We haven't really had time to talk recently."

"I know," you groaned, heaving a deep sigh as you shoved your empty water bottle into the side pocket of your work bag. "I've just been so busy getting set up here and making sure the birds are acclimating well. And then this big stakeout dropped into my lap and it's just been so crazy-"

"Is that- are you okay here? I know Hero work is a lot sometimes and I just-," he paused, letting out a quiet huff. "I just want to make sure you're happy here."

"I am, I think. It's definitely more stressful than working at the rescue, but I feel like I have more purpose here? Like I'm more than just the person who talks to birds."

"Now you're the person who talks to birds with spy gear. "

"Exactly!" you laughed. "It's totally different."

"I'm glad you're happy," Hawks smiled, one of his real ones that crinkled his nose and made your knees a little weak. "I've been thinking about making some personal changes myself."

"Oh? What kind of changes?"

"Something like this," he mumbled heatedly, the shift in his tone prompting you to swivel both your head and chair in his direction.

And then suddenly, his lips were pressed to yours. Hopelessly chapped from hours of constant flying but oh so warm against your own. It was short and sweet, a simple sort of kiss; but it stirred up so many complex feelings you were used to keeping caged up inside your chest.

"That's quite the change," you whispered against his lips, trying to remember the exact sequence of steps required for breathing.

"It's been a long time coming, I think."

"I wholeheartedly agree. But I'm ah- not so sure I should be kissing my boss?" You remark apprehensively. "I really like both you and this job and don't want to risk losing either."

"We set you up to work as an independent contractor, so technically you're your own boss," Hawks assured you, hands clasping your waist as he moved to pull you in for a second kiss. "And even if it isn't allowed, I'd absolutely commit some bluebird- collar crimes for you."

"Hawks!" You huff, swatting at his shoulder in reprimand. "I can't believe you just ruined our first kiss with a bird pun."

"A kiss? No, that was just a peck ," Hawks chortled at your pained groan. "This is a kiss."

With a firm tug Hawks pulled your body flush with his as his lips descended, and with the fresh addition of his tongue and teeth you couldn't bring yourself to mind the puns all that much anymore.

#bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #bnha x self insert #pigeoncoos🕊#mha x gender neutral reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #hawks x y/n #hawks x reader #hawks x me #hawks x gender neutral reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami x you #keigo takami x y/n #keigo takami x me

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thequietkid-moonie · 4 months ago

Text

Autistic!S/O stim by looking them perform

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Yuri, Layla, Leon ]

[ Yuri on Ice!! ] [ Kaleido Star ]

I have to admit it, I watched Kaleido Star at least twice because i stim a lot with the performances, wich lead me to follow quite some accounts of acrobats, I just love it too much alright???

Yuuri Katsuki

No matter in what part of his life he is, were he couldn't even make a good performance or after start getting trained with Victor, what matter is that you are there for him and love him just as much as he loves you, you alone represent a great comfort for him, something that also motivate him to become better in skating

Even when Yuuri can feel quite flustered by your relationship that doesn't stop him from being close to you and being affectionate, and, honestly, the fact that you are autistic has never bothered him at all (but it does make him self-concious sometimes since he is too worried by wanting to avoid upseting you or even overwhelmed you)

By the moment Yuuri learn that you are autistic he imediatly tried to learn about autism, dating or not you are someone he cares about so he wants to make sure he knows all he has to know, and as time pass and you two grow closer he just want to learn more and more, finding it quite interesting, but he is more interested on knowing how it does affect you and what he can do to help

Guide by his love Yuuri tries to adapt his own life and rutine to your comfort, he doesn't really mind changing a few things if those make you uncomfortable, and, honestly, his parents are so happy that you two are together that they are also incredibly supportive (there are high chances that her mother learns how to make your favorite/comfort food, happily willing to cook it for you anytime you want to eat it)

Yuuri wants to avoid overwhelmed you at all costs, so most of the time he ask your opinion and is highly valuable for him, with each new perfom he is preparing he always ask you what do you think (even if you dont know nothing about skating he likes hearing your opinion), also he ask your opinion of his costumes, he always tries to make it with colors and a desing that wont overwhelmed you nor make you uncomfortable, but if it he does he will try to change it to one that is more appealing for you

Once Yuuri learns about stiming he will take a while to fully comprehend the concept and more to get used to seeing you do it, sometimes it still take him of guard and even make him nervous when is too vocal or visual (fearing that something may be bothering you), but over time he just get used to it and he even encourage you to feel free to stim all you want when you are with him or his family (he will not admit it out loud, but sometimes find your stim quite cute and even stare a little)

As much as Yuuri says that he doesn't mind having you around whenever he is practicing the skating he is clearly flustered by the idea of you wanting to see him and it even take him a moment to calm his nervous (probably failing a few times on his practice until he manage to calm down)

Yuuri is already flustered enough by the idea of you liking seeing him perform but knowing that you like it so much that you even stim by looking at him perform is going to flustered him way too much (and is quite evident for his inmense blush), he has background of doing so bad performances that he has never was able to even reach a good rank on the competition until Victor came to train him, but you liking seeing him perform this much is incredibly comforting for him, making him feel even special!

Although, he is still quite self-concious of himself, as much as he loves the idea of you loving his performances he knows that he has to improve, so the idea of you stiming by watching him perfom become one of his greatests motivation to improve, to be able to show you a performance worthy of such honor

Layla Hamilton

Layla, one of the most reconized acrobats from the world, the star from the Kaleido stage, admired and loved for much, the one who's permorfances are always passionate and perfect, managing to always move the audience is not strange of being acclaimed and praised from all her fans, and yet the fact that you, the person she love the most, find her performances beautiful and mesmerizing enough to stim with them is one of the best compliments she has recived ever

Despite being most of the time quite strict and not easy with people she apreciate a lot the people she has close relasionship with, and of course you wont be an exception, Layla is sure that he does love you before even thinking on starting a relationship, as well she isn't someone who discriminate nor underestimate you, the fact that you are autistic has never being a problem for her and since the start she has always treat you as an equal

Layla is really respectful over you and expect others to be too, she doesn't make everyone else around to change and completely adapt to you but at least to have an amount of respect for you, just like she doesn't accept any insult towards the Kaleido stage she won't accept it towards you

In all honesty, is until she start to catch feeling for you that she start to investigate more about autism, also she learns a lot by being with you so she just gets used at whatever you do and learn to adapt the things she has to adapt to don't bring you problems and upset you

It take her a little to fully comprehend concepts like stiming because she really want to fully understand the concept, is probably at first she gets taken a back if you are loud or move much but quickly get used to it, although is until she learn the importance of stiming for you that she stop herself from thinking that is sometimes weird or troblesome (mainly in public or whenever she is too stressed)

After learning the importance and meaning of stiming for you when you admit to her that you like to visually stim by watching her perform or even practice Layla is quite flustered and even flattered, deep down she was hoping that you would like what she does but hearing that you even stim by it is giving her a new feeling, one that she likes, and she doesn't even waste time before thanking you for telling her and how happy she is by it

Honestly, knowing this give her motivation to keep giving the best of her and making sure everything is perfect, as well from then she likes to talk more about her practice and the new shows the Kaleido stage is working on, wanting to know your opinion on the matter more than ever (it doesn't matter if you don't say much about it but if you do she will heard you with a loving smile in her lips, a quite cute but rare scenary to look at). If there is something that you don't seem to like much or can find uncomfortable to look at Layla will try her best to change it enough for you to be comfortable with it, if she can't change it or not enough she will apologize profusely

It isn't too obvious but knowing this makes Layla being even more excited to perfom, everytime is time for the show she remind herself that you like it and she is doing this for you too (even if you don't assist that day at the performance she still thinks on you). Because of this you have always an sit just for you, either in the crowd or in backstage, wherever you feel more comfortable

Leon Oswald

Despite having a reputation of being someone quite cruel and of someone who just cares about himself Leon is really caring and loving towards his partner, once he is sure about his feeling for you (and, most important, those are reciprocated) then Leon will always keep you close and make sure you are safe and happy

Leon is already quite protective, the memories of his past make him being scare of the posibility of losing you so he is always keeping an eye on you in case you need anything, and, honestly, the fact that you are autistic it does afect him quite a lot, but not because it bothers him but because it bothers you, even if you are at peace with it that doesn't change the fact that your autism will affect your life from how you percive the world and live your life, so is that what leads Leon to always take in consideration your autism

Since the moment Leon undestand how important you became for him he started to investigate all he could about autism and paying closer attention to you, genuinely wanting to learn more about the topic and how it does affect you, he is really smart and observant and, honestly, he learns quite a lot by just watching you, so with the time he spend paying close attention to you it was only matter of time for him to learn enough to make sure you are comfortable around him, to know when is safe to take a step close or when to give you space

Leon has no problem with adapting his life to you, you are the person he loves and the only one he is willing to let get close to him and his heart, so, for him, is only right to make you feel comfortable and safe around him just like how he feels around you, besides, he doesn't really mind much having to adapt a few things if it is for you

Leon will not have much troubles with learning important things such as being overwhelmed and the importance of stiming, this is a really important part of your life so he wants to fully understand them (besides, when he feels completely comfortable with you he will have less problems to ask you about it), so when knowing the importance of stiming and how it help you he will even indirectly encourage you to do it and will never say something bad about it

Adapting himself to your comfort also include his performances, always making sure that non of his costumes can be overwhelming and that you can enjoy seeing his performances without a problem, even before knowing that you stim with it. By the moment he gets to know that you do enjoy his performances to the point that it is useful to stim (either by you telling him or he noticing) Leon will feel quite flattered and even prideful of himself, he knows he is good at what he does and his looks helps a lot but knowing that he can help you and even make you happy by performing is more meaningful that anything else, he thinks that this may be the true meaning behind a good performance, the meaning Sophie used to see in the stage

Leon will express how happy he is that you like his performances once you two are alone mainly because this is something quite personal (since it will be expressed with words of love towards you too), and, honestly, after he gets to know this he will be more motivated to make the best performances he can offer and every single one will be adapted at your comfort (he is willing to threaten to quit the job if they refuse to change something that make you uncomfortable, he knows that with his high reputation he can do what he wants anyways)

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