#there's something so good about the leader/parental figure getting cared for

[adrift-in-thyme]

I've got so many wips rn and what do I do? Start something new. I'm hopeless. But how am I supposed to resist the chance to write more fairy Time? ;)

CW for blood and injury

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He drags himself to the fountain.

The battle would have been difficult for nine heroes. For one — even one as experienced as himself — it had been nearly impossible. A fight hardly even worthy of being called a battle. 

No, Time thinks, grim and dizzy, as he digs his fingers into the dirt and attempts to sit up, it had been a pathetic struggle at best. He had barely escaped with his life. 

The Shadow, it seems, has a vendetta against him. Not that he doesn’t have one toward all of the Links, but…

Time’s efforts land him back on the ground, shuddering as wet coughs tear through him. 

…but it had felt like something beyond his usual distaste for the Heroes of Hyrule. As he had poured monster after monster through those cursed portals, as he had attacked with a sneer on his lips and a glint in his eyes, it had felt personal.

Perhaps, that is not so surprising. 

Wavering, Time grits his teeth. Blood trails down his chin. Its warmth is in stark contrast with the icy chill that has taken root in his bones. 

The Shadow’s sentiments hardly matter right now. It is not as though he could decipher them correctly if he wanted to. 

His thoughts are scattered and panicked, his body failing, his vision going gray. He is mere inches away from salvation, from safety, and his time is running out. 

Another stab of pain imprisons him in its steely grip. A muffled cry breaks through his tightly closed lips. His vision whites out for a moment, before returning fuzzy and distorted. 

Desperately, he reaches out. Trembling fingers slip, slick with blood and monster gore. He collapses with a small splash. 

The effect of the sacred water is instant. A ripple of magic runs through him, warm like a blanket and sweet like the sugar water he offers in hopes of regaining his fairy. In the next second, wings unfold from his back, his body shrinking to fit them.  

He slips fully into the embrace of the shallow waters. 

Time ends up on his side, liquid seeping in through the chinks in his armor and beading upon his wings. He blinks, slow and agonizing, trying to drag himself back to some semblance of awareness. But whatever delirious strength had born him here has fled and taken everything with it.

The water flows around him, glittering and cool. Gently, it soothes his injuries, carefully, it numbs them. But it’s not enough. He knows that now.

This fountain has been weakened. This fountain has no fairies left — save for himself — to imbue it with blessed strength.

No doubt, the monsters have driven them away. He can feel their distress, can imagine their flight, away from here and the encroaching darkness of evil and night.

Time gazes at the surrounding trees. They are mere shadows now, hazy and grayish. Twilight is long gone, bringing with it its brilliant purples and pinks and oranges. Storm clouds cloak the usual speckling of stars and block out the dismal light of the moon.

Not that Time minds that. Without its depressive glare, he feels calmer. 

If he has to fade away, he would rather do so beneath an angry sky, curled in the fountains that have always been his haven, in the form he feels most comfortable in. The form he cannot comprehend, yet treasures all the same. 

The waters turn black with his blood, feathery wisps of it floating out and away from him. He watches it with disinterest. Everything feels far away now. Even his need to survive, to return to Malon. 

He tries to grasp for it, to bring it back to the forefront of his mind. But his efforts are for naught. And what good would it do him anyway? He is too weak to move. He spent his remaining energy on the desperate gamble of stumbling here. Hoping, praying that the magic he felt calling him was still active. Was still alive.

Something rustles in the bushes. A creature, most likely, scampering about, unperturbed by his wavering presence. He is so small now he would be surprised if anyone could see him. Or hear him.  

His blood, however, is another matter altogether. Who knows what beasts have tracked the scent? 

He shifts slightly and a groan slips out before he can stop it. It doesn’t matter though. Whatever horrors seek him cannot measure up to the pain he is already enduring. The Shadow has the power to turn one’s own body against them. No wolf or bear has that ability.  

Something large and dark emerges from the shadowy foliage. Piercing blue eyes glare into his. Time tries to focus on them, tries to decipher their strange familiarity. But the world seems off-kilter, pain turns everything distant. 

I’m sorry, Malon. He thinks as the form moves toward him, looking to his fading eye almost like the clouds that hover above them. I’m sorry that I broke my promise.

And pup…I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.

“Time?” He hears the voice from very, very far away, growled more than spoken, a rumble like thunder before a downpour of rain. It cracks at the end, splintering like his bones when the Shadow had swung his sword too high, too fast for him to evade.

Time wants to drag himself up, wants to comfort this being he is certain he knows. But he lacks the strength to so much as raise a finger. 

And when he is lifted with a gentleness he cannot comprehend, when something soft and warm envelopes him, something that murmurs, “safe” in tones he knows — he doesn’t even attempt to break free.

If this is death, it is wonderful. ---------------------------------

He must lose himself soon after that. Because when he opens his eye it is an act of awakening, surfacing from the unfeeling deep. 

Time stirs, sighing as that same warmth of before embraces him. The pain that had torn him apart has dulled greatly, leaving behind only a ghost of what it once was. And though he isn’t certain why it’s gone — or even if that is a good omen or bad one — he can’t truly bring himself to care. 

He is comfortable here, drifting in this haze of dark, and he doesn’t want to disturb it. It has been so long since he felt like this (perhaps, since the start of the heroes’ journey). It has been so long since he slept, actually slept. 

“Old man?”

Something damp and cool nudges at him. His bed of plush fur (fur? His mind questions blearily) quivers at the movement. 

“Hey, old man. Can you hear me?” 

Time hums, a low sound that grates on his abused throat. 

A sigh of relief. His sanctuary shifts again. 

“Thank Hylia. I thought we’d…I thought…”

Time frowns. There it is again — that voice he knows, usually so strong and joyful, not shattered like broken panes of glass. The voice that ignites something in him, a protective instinct as strong as he feels toward Malon. The voice that reminds him of their love and the miracle that will come of it.

Reluctantly, he drags his eye open. 

At first, he can make out very little. But a few blinks and his vision clears enough that he can see the thick gray fur that surrounds him. He is nestled on Twilight’s back, he realizes, sluggishly, situated so his pup can keep an eye on him, even reach him if he cranes his neck. 

Those crystal blue orbs meet his and there is something broken in them. Time has never seen such emotion in a wolf’s eyes before.

“I thought I’d lost you.” 

He shouldn’t be able to understand that sorrowful growl, and yet, Time can hear the words as clear as day. 

That…is a mystery he will decipher later.

“‘M sorry, pup,” he croaks. His wings flutter gently. “‘M sorry.”

Twilight must have found him lying there in his own blood, hardly clinging to life. To have come upon such a sight…

Guilt wells within him. Time swallows against it.

Twilight shakes his proud head. 

“You can’t scare me like that. I can’t even scold ya like you can me.” He narrows his eyes. “Not that that’s gonna stop me from trying.”

Time huffs an attempt at a laugh. “I don’t…don’t doubt that.” He grows somber once more. He feels unconsciousness tugging at him again. But before he falls, he must at least say this. “You saved me. You shouldn’t-shouldn’t have had to. But I thank you for it.”

Twilight gazes at him for a long moment. “Of course. I love you, old man. Malon loves you. I never would’ve left you there. I never even entertained the thought. So, no thanks are necessary.” He cocks his head. “Although, gotta admit I’m a little sore about the fairy secret.”

Time resists the urge to roll his eyes. “You keep your own transformation a secret. Why…why should I not keep mine?”

“Oh, you can keep it from everyone else if you want. Just not from me.”

“What makes you s-so special?”

“I’m your descendant,” Twilight answers drily. “So, how do you do it? This isn’t an after-effect of what they…what happened to you…is it?”

Time shakes his head. “No,” he murmurs, struggling to stay alert. “I’ve always been able to do this.”

Twilight is silent for a moment. Then, “I came across a stray fairy when I was trying to get you back to camp. She was the one who healed you. She called you a child of the fairies. Not ‘brother’ like Hyrule. Their child.”

Time stares dazedly at the shrubbery surrounding them. They have always called him that. Even Tatl had. But hearing it now, from Twilight, raises new questions. Questions he supposes have always been there, hovering in the back of his mind. But that he has never bothered to ponder. 

The quiet stretches and Time can’t decide how to break it. So, he merely lets it be and snuggles deeper into Twilight’s fur, suddenly immeasurably grateful that his descendant’s secondary form is a wolf.

Powerful and gentle in equal parts. It fits his pup well. 

“But never mind that now,” Twilight says, as though sensing Time’s exhaustion. He sighs. “You need your rest. You comfortable up there, old man?”

Time nods. “Soft,” he mumbles, drowsily. 

Twilight nuzzles him again and humor is in the movement.  

“Good. Go to sleep then. I’ll watch over you.” His tone grows serious, unyielding. “Nothing will touch you while I’m here.”

A slight smile lifts the edges of Time’s mouth, even as a voice cries out within him, protesting this display of weakness, this terrible burden he has put on his descendant. But he is so, so tired. Too tired to rise and be the stalwart leader he knows he should be. 

His wings spread flat upon his back, like a shield. Darkness crowds his vision, numbing his thoughts and weighing down his still-sore limbs. 

“Thank you, pup,” he whispers, with what little strength he has left. 

He is gone before he can hear Twilight’s reply.

[another-random-paradise]

Can you do twst child fem reader who always accidentally calls the dorm leaders dad and clings onto them since they miss their dad and isn’t taking the whole separation thing well please??

Suddenly a father

I am so so sorry this took so long!! I do hope you enjoy it <3 I do have a character limit, so I just picked the ones I had an idea for!!

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Clingy child!reader calls them dad

Characters: Riddle, Vil, Idia

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: none that I can think of

Riddle

-To say Riddle was concerned when a magicless child suddenly appeared is an understatement, and when Crowley decided to let you live in the Ramshakle dorm, on it's own, aside from Grim, the concern doubled.

-So, he pulled some strings, and now you're staying in heartslabyul! 

-Riddle did act similar to a parental figure. He is rather strict, but certainly not as strict as his mother, and while he does try and teach you all the rules, and the consequences of breaking them, he is much more lenient with you. Ace is jealous

-Chances are, you get a tart for every 15 rules you memorize, or if you've been especially good, you'll get a small tart as a reward!

-Seeing like how much he's acting like a dad, that is what your yet to be fully developed brain perceived him as.

-So, you follow him everywhere, like a lost puppy. It confuses him a bit, but he doesn't stop you, as there isn't a rule forbidding you from doing so! Also, he worries about you whenever you leave his line of sight

-When he hears you call him dad for the first time, he's shocked, to say the least! He is still in college, he has yet to get a stable career, find a suitable partner, buy his own house, hE ISN'T READY TO BE A FATHER!! 

-He is frozen in shocked, leaving you to tuck on his sleeve with a questioning look, till Trey gently suggests that the sudden change must be very hard on you, and that Riddle is the closest thing you currently have to a father 

-It's a realization that hit him hard. Once the Realisation settles in, he doesn't correct you when you do- in fact, he now feels like it's his responsibility to take care of you now. Your parents aren't there, the Headmage isn't trustworthy, and he is the housewarden of the Dorm you're staying in! Plus, it's hard to seperate you from him, without upsetting you, so his fate is sealed anyway-

-Not much changes after, just that he is ever so slightly more caring 

Vil

-He was very shocked to see a child at the entrance ceremony, to say the least. 

-Immediately takes you under his wing, no questions asked. He doesn't know why, but something about you tugged on his heart strings

-you get your own room  at pomefiore, and the students of the Dorm take turns babysitting you- but Vil and rook is the first to volunteer if someone can't take care of you on their assigned day!

-Vil would take care of you everyday, but he's a busy man, he has movies to film, photo shoots to do, a dorm to run, ect... but he does try to be there 

-Has posted you on magicamp, but never your face! He'll only post your face once your old enough to decide and consent! Meanwhile his fans are going crazy, trying to figure out if your his little sibling/cousin or if their favourite star is a teen parent!

-You start to run to, and go with him whenever you can, and if he can't take you with him, you patiently wait till he returns, before practically jumping into his arms 

-He is brushing your hair, getting you ready for bed, when you call him dad. 

-he pauses for a moment, taking by shock, before simply continuing on. He knows he is to young to be a father, not to mention to busy. He knows that you most likely have parents waiting for you at home.. yet he can't bring himself to correct you, while you almost fall asleep as he continues brushing your hair. 

-He supposes that, until a way home for you has been found, he can take on a parently role for you

Idia

-He doesn't even realise you're there until the commotion starts, cause, you know, he isn't physically there. When he does, he doesn't know what to do, so he tries to avoid the situation. 

-But you don't let him, being far to fascinated by the floating Ipad, following him around.

-It gets to a point where Crowley decides that you'll stay at Ignihyde under his watch!.. Idia freezes in shock, he doesn't know how to take care of a child!

-At first you're completely under Ortho's control- Half the dorm can't even take care of themselves, and you expect them to take care of a child? Ortho's the only one there keeping you alive.

-Nonetheless, you keep running to Idia, you don't know why either, something about him just feels like home.

-At first the small, clingy you terrified him, but eventually he gets used to you. He lets you stay in his room when you want to and occasionally shares his snacks with you! 

-After you show an interest in Technology, he teaches you the basics, and lets you watch when he builds something! with proper safety regulations, of course! He is gonna end up turning you into an ipad kid

-It is during one of these lessons that you call him dad. He short-circuts, and Ortho has to catch the tool Idia was holding, before it smashes into the machine- 

-Even after Ortho analyses and explains the situation, he is still in a bit of shock with no idea what to do. He very quietly corrects you, but it's barely audible. Meanwhile Ortho is celebrating having a new family member!

-Every time you call him dad, he freezes up for a moment, before quietly correcting you, only to not be heard :) 

Very fun to write, but I’ll be honest, I’m not around children much, so I don’t really know how they act :,) once again, so sorry you had to wait around a month for this request ^^“

Feedback is welcome, just be nice!!

Hope you have a great day/night <3

[candyskiez]

so, you've heard shows be recommended because they had gay characters. you don't really know what they're actually about though, and don't know if they'd be something you'd be into and are worried about spoilers. here's spoiler free plot summaries of em!

The Owl House

The Owl House starts out as a typical teenage girl goes into a fantasy realm story, but with a twist. Actions have consequences. The protagonist is a girl named Luz Noceda, who was being sent to a camp to make her behave normally by her mother after causing too much trouble at school. She ends up finding a place she's always dreamed of: a fantasy world. A world where everyone's so much weirder than she is. And she thinks, maybe if I don't belong out there, maybe people will like me here. Maybe I can be special here.

It's a story about found family, propaganda, erased history, living with disability, religious trauma, and neurodivergence. It's fundamentally a show about people who's brains work differently finding each other and making a family that treats them right. Definitely my favorite of the ones on this list. It's about people who've been oppressed being pissed about it and about finding yourself again after giving up on everyone around you for so long. It's basically a show about being a minority and trying to be understood and to understand yourself in the process. It's about growing up neurodivergent and how isolating it feels and figuring yourself out. It's about repairing broken relationships and parents who fuck up. And it's just. Such a love letter to anyone who was the weird kid in school. It's sad and heartbreaking and also so hopeful, and it's wonderful.

Content warnings: Abuse, Death, Grief, Animal Death, Suicidal thoughts, Vague suicide attempts, Depression, blink and you'll miss it s/h, body horror, religious trauma

She Ra and the Princesses Of Power

Adora was raised in the Horde since she was a baby, being fed propaganda about how cruel the princesses were. After learning how the horde actually was, though, she defects. But there's one problem. Her best friend, Catra, stays behind. Adora finds a sword that can transform her into She Ra, and might be the key to figuring out who she really is, while Catra takes her place as force captain.

It's a story about abuse, at the end of the day. Adora and Catra were stuck in a golden child and scapegoat dynamic, despite how much they care about each other. This leads to them knowing everything about each other but not understanding it. There's a fundamental disconnect between them, because both of their traumas are completely different. They have complete misconceptions about each other. Even in their initial split, they both have completely different perceptions of what's going on and why the other is upset. It's not a story about magic princesses, it's about the cycle of abuse and what makes it so complicated. Does it have flaws? Yeah. But ultimately I really really enjoy it, and when it does something right it does something RIGHT. Get through season one, it starts kids show-y but it gets very good during later s1.

Content warnings: Abuse (obviously), body horror, gaslighting (and I mean actual gaslighting, not what the Internet thinks gaslighting is), suicide, depression, flashing lights and eyestrain during the finale

Steven Universe

Steven Universe is a sins of the father story. Steven is the son of the leader of the rebel group The Crystal Gems, who's name was Rose Quartz. He navigates the confusion of being half gem and half human, as well as trying to figure out the mess of the rebellion and what his mother left behind. He's constantly in her shadow, for better or for worse.

It's a story about grief. How it impacts relationships, how it taints history, how it impacts family. It has some definite flaws, but ultimately it's about very flawed people who have lost so many people in their life trying to cope with it. Trying to handle what they lost and trying to adjust to life without them. It's about how expectations fuck a kid up and about agency and just a show about complicated relationships in general, at the end of the day. Also, it has some FANTASTIC music.

Content warnings: Grief, Abuse, body horror, very creepy people I don't know how to tag, heavy allegories for homophobia

Nimona

Nimona is a story about a guy who gets framed for murder. His name is Ballister Boldheart, a commoner who hoped to become a knight. It seemed everyone was waiting to watch him fail, so it was no surprise when he was the immediate target. Heavily injured and away from the man he loves, he's left alone trying to figure out a way to prove his innocence- until a strange kid comes into his life. This kids name is Nimona, and while he is intent on proving his innocence, she gave up on being anything but a villain a long time ago.

It's about deconstructing the model minority myth, trans rage, propaganda, and with a healthy dose of "FUCK the police".

Content warnings: Heavy injury, on screen suicide attempt, flashing lights

feel free to add more shows! just remember to keep the summaries as spoiler free as you can and add content warnings!

[leesleelee]

The babysitters Chronicles.

Steve Harrington x male! reader

After the events of season 3, Hawkins has settled into a quieter routine. However, the threat of the Upside Down lingers in the background. You, Lucas' cousin has moved back to Hawkins to help out. While helping out, you meet someone who ends up being your teammate.

CW: Mild Language, emotional vulnerability, romantic themes, mention of past trauma, light angst.

Word Count: 6,863

The babysitters.

We were under the same roof.

The summer had passed, but Hawkins was still settling back into some semblance of normalcy.

At least, that’s what your parents told you as they sent you off to stay with your cousin Lucas and his family.

After everything that had happened, it was clear you were needed, even if you weren’t sure what your role would be in all this.

Your first day in Hawkins was quiet, too quiet.

The kind of quiet that made you feel like something important was still lingering in the air. You hadn’t been around Lucas, Mike, Max, Dustin, or the others much before, so you didn’t know what to expect.

All you knew was that things had been... complicated. And now, you were supposed to help take care of the kids. Easier said than done.

The house you found yourself in was familiar, Lucas’ family home, but it felt different now, like the walls carried secrets you weren’t privy to yet.

The laughter and chaos coming from the living room was a clear indication that life here, though quieter, was anything but normal. You hesitated at the doorway, unsure of how to join the group, and whether they’d even care that you’d just moved into town.

The first thing you noticed was the noise. It wasn’t loud, not exactly, but it was constant.

Mike and Dustin were arguing over some ridiculous game on the floor, while Lucas and Max were half-heartedly attempting to referee.

The energy was almost too much; too many moving parts, too many voices, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Just... overwhelming.

Then, your eyes landed on him.

Steve Harrington, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. His presence seemed to fill the room, not with the usual ‘king of the school’ bravado you’d heard about, but with something warmer;

more grounded.

He was part of the chaos, but he was also a quiet anchor in the middle of it. His eyes flickered over to you as you stood there, unsure of how to make an entrance, but instead of the usual dismissive glance or curiosity, there was a softness in his gaze.

“Hey,” he greeted you, his voice surprisingly calm amidst the rowdy chatter. He offered a small smile, the kind that didn’t try too hard but was somehow inviting.

“You must be the new guy.”

You nodded, not sure if that was the right thing to do.

“Yeah, that’d be me. I’m... staying with Lucas for a while.”

Steve’s expression softened, his arms uncrossing as he straightened up.

“I figured as much. Everyone’s talking about you.” There was no teasing or judgment in his tone, just a genuine acknowledgment.

You glanced at Lucas, who was still in the middle of breaking up another argument between Mike and Dustin, and then back to Steve.

“How do you... handle all of this?”

You asked, half-laughing at the mess in front of you. The kids were all loud, taking sides, making plans for whatever trouble they were about to get into.

Steve looked over at them with a small shake of his head, like he was used to it by now. “It’s... a work in progress,” he said slowly, as if carefully choosing his words.

“You get used to the noise. And the drama.” His smile grew slightly, and you could see how he effortlessly slid into his role as the unspoken leader of the group. “You’ve got your hands full now, though. This lot knows how to make a mess.”

“Seems like they’re good at it,” you commented, your voice dry, feeling the weight of the situation.

You didn’t know how you were supposed to fit in, how you were supposed to navigate being the new person here.

Steve gave you a knowing look. “Don’t worry. We all get thrown into the deep end at some point. You’ll be fine.”

His tone was light, but there was something reassuring about it, as if he genuinely meant it.

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you just watched as he moved across the room, stepping into the chaos like it was second nature to him.

He bent down to break up a new fight between Max and Dustin, using his usual calm, but firm, voice to smooth things over. There was a practiced ease to his movements, like he had done this a hundred times before.

You stood there for a moment, observing him. He was different from what you expected, much more patient and steady.

You’d heard the stories, Steve Harrington, the former high school king, the one who had been through his own share of messes, but somehow ended up here, looking out for the kids.

He was more than just the nickname.

It wasn’t until you saw him glance back at you, that small, amused smile tugging at his lips, that you realized you’d been watching him a little too intently.

He raised an eyebrow, catching your gaze, and for a second, there was an unspoken understanding between you two, something fleeting but real.

“Okay, new guy,” he said, his voice a little more relaxed, like he was letting down some of his own walls.

“Want to team up? We can tag team this babysitting gig. Trust me, it works better when there are two of us.”

You didn’t know what made you agree, but there was something about Steve, something that made it easy to fall into a rhythm with him, even if it was just a simple offer to help manage the chaos.

You nodded, stepping a little further into the room.

“Sure,” you said, your voice quieter now, more certain. “I can give it a shot.”

For a moment, it didn’t feel so overwhelming.

With Steve, there was a quiet reassurance that maybe, just maybe, this would be easier than you thought. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, helping to take care of the kids and settling into Hawkins.

And maybe, just maybe, there was more to Steve than the stories you’d heard.

As the two of you began working together to keep the kids from escalating into more trouble, you couldn’t help but notice the small gestures, the way Steve made sure you were comfortable and involved, offering quiet smiles and half-jokes when the kids got too rowdy.

It was nothing big, nothing overt, but in that moment, you realized something, this wasn’t just babysitting.

This was the beginning of something new.

And even if it was just a small spark, you couldn’t help but feel like it had the potential to grow into something more.

---

The moment you agreed to help, you immediately regretted it.

Max had suggested they all play a game of Dungeons & Dragons, but somehow it devolved into an all-out war of opinions, everyone trying to one-up each other with the most ridiculous rules.

Dustin and Mike were arguing over whose character was the most powerful, while Lucas tried to keep them in check, but his attention was split.

Max, naturally, refused to be part of it at all, folding her arms and glaring at the lot of them as if she were too cool for the entire situation.

And in the middle of it all, Steve was... well, Steve.

His usual nonchalant attitude made him seem like this was just another ordinary Saturday for him.

He leaned back against the couch, one hand lazily draped over the backrest, while the other played with a half-empty bag of chips.

You glanced at Steve, silently pleading for help. He caught your eye, his lips twitching in amusement, but he didn’t offer any immediate assistance.

Instead, he was waiting for you to jump into the fray. You took a deep breath and stepped into the chaos, walking over to where Lucas and Mike were practically nose-to-nose, arguing over whether a roll of the dice was “totally unfair.”

“Hey!” you called out, a little louder than you intended. All heads turned toward you.

Steve’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, something almost like pride flickering behind his eyes as you took charge of the situation.

“Okay, seriously?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“We’re gonna be here all day if you keep fighting like this. What’s the point of a game if you don’t even know the rules?”

Lucas shot you a grateful look.

“See? I told them it’s about having fun, not trying to win every single time.”

“I don’t always try to win,” Dustin protested, looking offended.

He glanced at Mike.

“But Mike’s character is completely OP. I mean, who even lets a wizard have that many spells?”

“Yeah, well, you guys aren’t playing right!” Mike shot back, completely missing the point.

Steve leaned in, clearly enjoying the drama. “Boys, boys,” he said, with a theatrical sigh.

“How about we agree that everyone can have their turn to be the biggest nerd, but nobody gets to hog the spotlight? Deal?”

You could practically hear the collective groan of annoyance from the kids, but it did the trick, at least for the moment.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Dustin grumbled, sitting down with a huff.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Just as things seemed to calm down, a high-pitched shriek cut through the air.

Max had decided she was done with the game and was now attempting to sneak into the kitchen to steal the last of the snacks.

“Hey! Max! Get back here!” Steve shouted, moving with surprising speed as he jumped off the couch and chased after her.

You didn’t hesitate to follow, knowing the chaos would only escalate if someone didn’t stop it.

You found Steve cornering Max at the kitchen table, a small bag of pretzels clutched in her hands like she was about to make a getaway.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Steve asked, his voice amused but firm, his hands on his hips as if this were a routine.

Max rolled her eyes dramatically, holding the snacks out in front of her like they were a trophy.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Getting a snack. You guys have been hogging everything.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen anyone eating pretzels since last week, Max,” you said, crossing your arms.

“You just want to be dramatic, huh?”

Max flashed you a smirk. “If you’re gonna let Steve win, that’s your problem.”

You raised your hands in mock surrender.

“I’m just here to keep the peace, not to pick sides.”

Steve leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if he were sharing a secret.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he said, his words only meant for you.

“She gets really feisty when she’s hungry.”

You raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. “Noted.”

Max huffed, crossing her arms, but Steve wasn’t letting her off that easily. He took the bag from her hands with a dramatic flourish, giving her a look of mock disappointment.

“You can have some, but you have to promise to play nice with the others. No more stealing snacks.”

Max rolled her eyes again but grudgingly nodded.

“Fine, whatever.”

With the snack crisis temporarily averted, you and Steve returned to the living room, but not before you heard Dustin and Mike get into another heated discussion about which character was the best choice for their next round.

You exchanged a glance with Steve, who was clearly done with the constant back-and-forth.

“You wanna call it quits for the day?” Steve asked, leaning toward you with a grin.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I think that’s probably a good idea. They’re never going to agree on anything if we don’t step in.”

Just as you were about to suggest a break, the sound of crashing plastic echoed from the corner of the room.

You and Steve turned just in time to see Lucas trip over his own shoelaces, sending a bowl of popcorn flying across the floor.

The kids burst into laughter, and even Steve couldn't hold back a chuckle.

You couldn’t help but smile at the mess of it all, and for a moment, it felt like you were just another part of the family.

“You know,” you said, shaking your head,

“I can’t tell if I’m actually helping or just making things worse.”

Steve shrugged, his grin widening.

“Sometimes it’s about surviving the chaos, not solving it. Trust me, you’re doing fine.”

As the room settled into a familiar pattern of laughter and minor bickering, you realized that, despite the madness, it wasn’t so bad.

Steve had a way of making the chaos feel manageable, and it felt like, maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this.

---

The sun had begun to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the room.

The chaos of the afternoon had finally settled into a comfortable lull, and the kids had either scattered to their respective corners of the house or fallen into a quiet, tired stupor.

The game was over, the snacks were long gone, and the living room now felt almost eerily calm in comparison to the frenzy that had come before.

You leaned back against the couch, the soft hum of a television in the background barely audible.

Max was sprawled out in one of the armchairs, her headphones in, while Dustin and Mike were attempting some quiet video game battle in the corner.

Even Lucas had found a moment to relax, reading through a comic book by the window.

Steve, on the other hand, had found a quiet corner near the window, arms loosely crossed as he gazed outside at the fading light.

His usual energy had settled, his expression softer now than it had been all day.

You watched him for a moment, the way the light caught the edges of his hair, how his gaze seemed far away, lost in thought.

It was the first time today that he didn’t seem like he was on high alert, ready to jump in and referee the next round of bickering. He looked... peaceful.

For a moment, you considered just letting him be.

But something about the quiet pulled you closer, a small voice telling you to take a chance, to say something.

“Hey,”

you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

It felt strange to break the silence, but you did anyway. “You doing okay?”

Steve shifted slightly, as though your voice had brought him out of his thoughts.

He turned his head slightly, catching your eye. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he uncrossed his arms and sat up a little straighter.

“I’m good,” he replied, his voice low and calm.

“Just... needed a second. Been a long day, huh?”

You nodded slowly, relaxing into the cushions as you considered his words.

“Yeah, it’s definitely been... eventful. But, uh, it’s not so bad. You’ve handled it pretty well.”

Steve let out a small, almost embarrassed chuckle.

“I don’t know about that. Half the time I’m just winging it.” His gaze flickered toward the kids again, watching them interact with a small, fond smile on his face.

“But, I guess it works out. You’re not doing too bad yourself.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Me? I feel like I’m just getting dragged along.”

“That’s part of the fun, right?” Steve said with a shrug, still grinning a little. His tone was teasing, but there was a warmth there, too, a genuine appreciation.

“But seriously, you’ve got a good way with them. They listen to you, which is more than I can say for myself sometimes.”

You chuckled softly, shifting so you were sitting a little closer to him.

“I guess we make a good team, huh?”

Steve glanced at you again, his smile widening just a little. “Yeah, I think we do.”

His voice was quieter this time, more thoughtful. “It’s kind of nice, y’know, having someone to share all this with. Feels a little less crazy when it’s not just me trying to keep everything in check.”

You didn’t say anything right away, letting the words sink in.

You had noticed, of course, how Steve had a way of keeping things under control—of bringing a sense of calm to the madness.

But hearing him say it, hearing the vulnerability in his voice as he admitted he wasn’t always sure he had it all together, made you feel... closer to him, in a way.

Like you weren’t just playing along in his world, but that you were starting to share it.

“You know,” you said quietly, looking out the window where the last remnants of the sunset painted the sky in shades of orange and pink, “I didn’t think it’d be like this when I moved here. All the noise, all the... chaos.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “But it’s kind of nice. In a weird way.”

Steve followed your gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked out at the fading light.

“Yeah. It’s nice. I think the chaos makes the quiet moments worth it.” He paused, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was holding back another smile.

“And... I think the quiet moments make the chaos feel a little less crazy, too.”

You smiled at his words, the weight of the afternoon finally lifting off your shoulders.

The world outside seemed a little calmer now, the house filled with the soft sounds of the kids in their own little worlds, and Steve sitting next to you, as relaxed as you’d ever seen him.

There was something comforting about this silence, the way everything felt in sync for once.

You didn’t feel the need to fill the air with conversation or distractions. Instead, you could just enjoy the moment for what it was, a brief, quiet pause in the midst of the whirlwind that had been your day.

Steve’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, and you met his eyes, a soft, unspoken understanding passing between you.

Maybe it was the way the evening light softened everything, or the way his presence just felt right, but in that quiet moment, you couldn’t deny it: being here with him felt... good.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Steve said, the words simple but meaningful, his voice steady and warm.

You nodded, a quiet smile curving on your lips. “Me too.”

---

The days after the babysitting adventure had settled into something like routine.

The kids were still as chaotic as ever, but with each passing day, you found yourself easing into the role.

There were moments of laughter, moments of frustration, and, more often than not, you found yourself alongside Steve, trying to juggle the madness.

It wasn’t so much the kids that had started to feel comfortable, it was being around Steve.

Somewhere between handling arguments over video games, calming Max down after she’d stormed off in a huff, and Steve always having just the right words to make everyone laugh or take a break, you’d started to notice something.

The way Steve looked at you wasn’t quite like it had been at first. It was subtle at first,an extra beat of silence when your eyes met, the small, easy smiles that didn’t feel forced, like they used to.

There was an ease in his presence now, a comfortable kind of quiet that you found yourself craving when the noise of the group became too overwhelming.

Today was no different. The kids were in the backyard, playing basketball, and you’d volunteered to stay inside with Steve, mostly because the sun was just a little too hot, and you both had been the designated “guardians of peace.”

You were sitting at the kitchen table, sipping on a drink, while Steve was lazily washing dishes, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

The rhythmic sound of water running, the occasional clink of plates, and the quiet murmurs between you two were almost soothing.

“So,” Steve said, his voice breaking the silence, “how’s school been? You surviving senior year?”

You glanced up from your drink, considering the question. “It’s been alright,” you replied, a small shrug following your words.

“I mean, it’s school. It’s nothing I can’t handle. But it’s... different, you know? Moving here after everything that happened... it’s kind of thrown me off. I feel like I’m still adjusting.”

Steve chuckled, wiping his hands dry on the dish towel.

“Yeah, I get that. Hawkins has a way of making things feel a little weird, right? Everything’s either too normal or too weird, never just... normal.”

You laughed softly, nodding in agreement.

“Exactly. It’s like one minute, I’m trying to figure out how to survive high school, and the next, I’m wondering if I’ll have to deal with some weird, otherworldly creature again.”

Steve smirked, tossing the towel aside and leaning against the counter. “I’m pretty sure that’s part of the charm of this place. You never really know what’s gonna happen next. Makes life interesting, I guess.”

The way he said it made you chuckle, and for a moment, it felt like you were just... talking.

Not about anything important, not anything heavy, but just sharing a moment of lightness, of understanding. It wasn’t often that you felt that way with someone, especially after moving to a new place.

But with Steve, it was easy.

“You know,” you said after a beat, “I didn’t really expect you to be this... chill.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Chill? What, you thought I’d be some angry jock or something?”

You shrugged, trying to hide your smile. “I don’t know. It’s just—well, you’re different than what I thought you’d be.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I get that a lot. People usually think I’m all about the hair, the car, the ‘cool guy’ persona.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Guess I got that reputation, huh?”

You couldn’t help but smile, amused by his self-deprecating humor. “I mean, yeah, but there’s more to you than that.”

You paused, looking down at your drink as you thought for a moment. “It’s just... you’re not what I expected. But in a good way.”

Steve’s expression softened at your words, and for a moment, you both just stood there in the quiet of the kitchen, the noise of the kids in the backyard still distant.

There was something comforting about the silence between you two, something that felt like it was slowly pulling you both closer.

Steve shifted on his feet, his gaze never leaving you as he leaned in slightly, as though choosing his words carefully.

“Well... I’m glad to hear that. Honestly, I didn’t really know what to expect from you either when you moved here.”

You looked up at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “Oh yeah? What did you think I’d be like?”

He chuckled softly, his expression light.

“I don’t know, honestly. I thought you’d be like one of those people who just comes in, says ‘hi,’ and disappears. You know, all distant and stuff. But you’re... not like that at all.”

You smiled, a small, genuine smile that came naturally. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

Steve’s grin was playful, but there was something more behind it. “Nah. Not bad at all.”

It was funny, how easy it felt to talk to him.

The way the conversation flowed from one moment to the next, no forced pauses, no awkwardness. It felt natural, like the both of you had always been able to share this space.

The kids outside were getting louder, the ball bouncing off the ground, a few of them laughing at some sort of inside joke, but it didn’t matter.

It felt like you and Steve were in your own little bubble, and for once, the rest of the world didn’t need to intrude.

“I’m glad I’m here,” Steve said softly, almost as an afterthought, as he turned back to the sink, his fingers absently running over the rim of a glass.

“I mean, you’ve made things... easier.”

You watched him for a moment, the words hanging in the air between you two.

He hadn’t said anything too deep, but there was a sincerity in his voice that made your heart skip a beat

You were getting used to this, getting used to him being around, getting used to the quiet moments, to how easy it felt to just be in each other’s company.

“I’m glad you’re here too,” you said, the words coming out quieter than you meant them to.

For a moment, Steve didn’t respond, but the smile he gave you was enough. It was soft, almost shy, but there was something in it that told you he felt the same way.

---

It had been a long week, the kind of week that blended together, filled with the usual mix of chaos, laughter, and quiet moments with Steve.

Every time you thought the day would settle into something predictable, there was always a curveball, whether it was Dustin’s never-ending energy, Max’s occasional storms, or the endless basketball games in the driveway.

But, despite the noise, the moments spent with Steve felt different. Lately, you’d found yourself looking forward to them more than you cared to admit.

It was late on a Friday evening, and the kids had all scattered off to their rooms, giving you and Steve the rare chance for some time to yourselves.

The house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night outside.

You were sitting on the couch, a book in your lap, your thoughts wandering far from the pages in front of you. You could hear Steve in the kitchen, putting away some leftovers from dinner, humming to himself absentmindedly.

The usual chatter and playful teasing had quieted down, and you realized, for the first time in a long while, that you weren’t focused on keeping things light anymore.

You weren’t just babysitting the kids or keeping the peace.

You were... drawn to Steve.

And it wasn’t just about the way he’d smile when he caught your eye, or how he’d laugh when you cracked a joke. It was the way he made you feel. Safe. Understood.

Like you were both in this together. Like this moment, this piece of life, was something worth holding onto.

Without thinking, you closed the book and set it aside, standing up and walking toward the kitchen, your steps slow but deliberate.

Steve was humming louder now, moving around the kitchen, but when you leaned against the doorframe, he paused and glanced over at you, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s up?” he asked, wiping his hands on a towel.

You hesitated for a second, not entirely sure what you were about to say, but knowing that it was time to say something.

Something that had been building up in you for weeks now. Something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“I don’t know,” you said, the words coming out a little quieter than you meant them to.

“I guess... I’ve been thinking.”

Steve tilted his head slightly, clearly interested, but he didn’t push. He just stood there, waiting for you to continue, his expression soft and open.

“About... us, I guess,” you continued, your heart beating a little faster now.

“About how things have been. How... I’ve been feeling. And, I just—”

You stopped yourself, taking a breath. You didn’t know how to explain it, didn’t know how to put into words what had been bubbling up inside you.

But Steve, in his usual way, seemed to sense what you were getting at. His expression softened, and he took a step closer to you, his voice gentle.

“You mean how it feels like we’ve been getting closer?” he asked, his tone teasing but sincere.

You nodded, looking up at him.

“Yeah. I didn’t think it would happen this way, but... yeah. I guess I’ve been feeling it too.”

Steve leaned against the counter, letting out a small breath as he looked down at his hands.

For a moment, you thought he might change the subject, but instead, his voice softened, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it.

“You know,” he began, “I’m not always this put-together. Like, I joke around and act like I’ve got it all figured out, but... I don’t. Not even close.”

The honesty in his voice surprised you, and you stepped closer, silently encouraging him to continue.

He glanced at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before looking away again.

“After everything that happened with... the Upside Down, losing people, and just... everything,” he said, his voice faltering slightly,

“it messed me up. I tried to be the guy who could take care of everyone, who could keep it together for the kids, but sometimes... it feels like I’m barely holding on.”

You felt your chest tighten at his words.

It wasn’t often that Steve let his guard down like this, and hearing the cracks in his usual confident exterior made you realize just how much he carried on his shoulders.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” Steve continued, shaking his head with a small, self-conscious laugh.

“Maybe because you’ve been there too. You get it, in a way that not a lot of people do.”

You reached out instinctively, placing a hand on his arm.

The gesture was simple, but it seemed to ground him. He looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability in his expression was almost overwhelming.

“You don’t have to do it alone, Steve,” you said softly. “You don’t have to be the guy who always has it figured out. We’ve all been through a lot, and it’s okay to lean on someone else sometimes.”

Steve let out a small breath, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah. I think I’m starting to figure that out. Especially with you.”

The words hung in the air between you, and the realization of what he’d just said made your heart skip a beat.

He hadn’t said it directly, but the meaning was clear. You weren’t just someone he was confiding in. You were someone he trusted, someone he wanted to keep close.

“I’m glad I’m here,” Steve said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m glad you’re here too.”

Your hand lingered on his arm for a moment longer before you stepped back, the weight of the moment settling between you. There was something undeniable in the air now, something unspoken but understood.

The connection between you two wasn’t just friendship—it was something more, something neither of you could ignore any longer.

Steve stared at your lips and cracked a smile.

---

It had been a few weeks since that quiet night in the kitchen when everything changed.

You and Steve hadn’t spoken directly about what happened, but the air between you was different now.

The small moments lingered longer, the playful touches and glances felt heavier, and the teasing banter was layered with something unspoken. Something real.

The kids, of course, hadn’t noticed anything, too caught up in their own world of campaigns, arcade games, and adolescent drama.

But you noticed. Steve noticed. And, slowly but surely, the dynamic between you two shifted into something neither of you could name just yet.

The first time it hit you was at the arcade.

It had been Max’s idea to gather everyone, and somehow, you and Steve had been roped into chaperoning.

The kids scattered the moment you arrived, racing to their favorite machines and leaving you two by the snack counter.

Steve leaned casually against the counter, sipping a Coke, his hair as perfect as ever.

You couldn’t help but smirk at how effortlessly he pulled off the whole "cool guy" look.

“You know,” you said, nudging him playfully,

“you’ve got a serious reputation to uphold. Babysitter extraordinaire, hero of Hawkins… how do you handle all the pressure?”

He laughed, a genuine, warm sound that made your chest tighten.

“It’s tough, but someone’s gotta do it,” he quipped, taking another sip. Then he glanced at you, his expression softening. “I mean, it helps having backup now.”

The way he said it, so casually but with a weight that told you he meant it, made your stomach flip.

You looked away, pretending to focus on the kids in the distance, but the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed you.

“Backup, huh?” you replied, your voice teasing but quieter now.

“Guess that makes me your sidekick.”

Steve nudged you back, his shoulder brushing yours in a way that felt deliberate.

“Nah, more like my boyfriend.”

The word hung in the air between you, and for a moment, it felt like the entire arcade had gone silent.

You glanced at him, and the small, knowing smile on his face made your heart race.

“Boyfriend, huh?” you murmured, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

He shrugged, his smile widening. “Yeah. You know… someone I can count on. Someone I can... trust.”

The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge of something big.

But before you could respond, Dustin’s voice cut through the moment, shouting for both of you to “hurry up and come see this!”

Steve chuckled, the spell between you broken but not forgotten.

“Guess duty calls,” he said, giving you a quick wink before heading toward the kids.

You followed, your chest still buzzing from the exchange.

---

The second time it happened was during a late-night drive. The kids were all asleep in the back of Steve’s car after a long day at the pool, and the quiet hum of the engine filled the silence.

You were sitting in the passenger seat, your head resting against the window as the streetlights flickered past.

Steve glanced over at you, his hands steady on the wheel.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low.

You turned to him, smiling softly. “Yeah. Just… tired, I guess.”

He nodded, his eyes flicking back to the road. “It’s been a long day.”

There was a pause, and then he added, almost hesitantly, “You know, I’ve been thinking… I like this.”

“Like what?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“This,”

He said, gesturing vaguely. “The quiet. The… normal. After everything we’ve been through, it’s nice, y’know? Just driving around with you. Feels... right.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah,” you murmured. “It does.”

The rest of the drive was quiet, but the air between you was charged, every glance and shared silence saying more than words ever could.

---

The third time it happened was at the Wheeler’s basement, during another one of the kids’ chaotic campaigns.

The two of you sat on the couch, watching the kids argue over strategy, your shoulders pressed together.

Steve leaned in close, pretending to whisper about the game but letting his breath tickle your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Think they’ll ever figure it out?” he teased, his voice low and warm.

“Doubt it,” you replied, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at his proximity.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade.

You could feel the tension building, the unspoken feelings between you growing harder to ignore.

Before either of you could say anything, Lucas shouted in triumph, breaking the moment.

Steve groaned dramatically, leaning back against the couch, but his hand brushed against yours as he did. Neither of you moved it.

It was moments like these, small, fleeting, but deeply significant, that defined the slow burn of your relationship.

Every shared look, every playful touch, every quiet conversation brought you closer, inch by inch, until the line between friendship and something more was barely there at all. And though neither of you had said the words yet, you both knew they were coming. It was just a matter of time.

---

The night was still, the stars scattered across the sky like someone had spilled glitter over velvet.

You and Steve were sitting on the roof of your house, a favorite spot you’d both discovered during one of the kids’ sleepovers.

The chaos of the day had finally settled, leaving behind a peaceful quiet that you’d grown to cherish in moments like these.

Steve sat beside you, legs stretched out, his hands resting on his knees as he gazed up at the stars.

He looked calm, content, but there was something in his posture, his fingers tapping absently against his leg, the way he kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye, that told you he had something on his mind.

“You ever think about what’s next?” he asked suddenly, his voice soft but clear in the stillness.

You turned to him, caught off guard by the question. “Next?”

“Yeah, like... after all of this. The kids, Hawkins, everything.”

He gestured vaguely to the sky, his lips quirking in a small, self-conscious smile.

“I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like this town is all I’ve got, y’know? Like I’ll always be Steve Harrington, babysitter extraordinaire.”

You chuckled softly, nudging him with your shoulder.

“You’re a little more than that, you know.”

He smiled at the nudge, but the vulnerability in his eyes didn’t waver.

“I don’t know. I guess I just... I want more. Something real. Something that makes me feel like... I belong.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

You felt your heart ache at the openness in his voice, the quiet longing he rarely let anyone see.

“You do belong, Steve,” you said after a moment, your voice gentle but firm. “To the kids, to this place... to me.”

The last part came out before you could stop it, but you didn’t regret it.

It was the truth, and it was time to stop dancing around it.

Steve turned to you, his eyes searching yours, and you could see the moment your words sank in.

His lips parted slightly, like he was about to say something, but instead, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

“I mean it,” you continued, your voice quieter now.

“You’re not just... some guy who keeps the kids out of trouble. You’re more than that, Steve. You’re... everything. To them, sure, but to me, too. And I don’t want you to think you’re not enough, because you are. You always have been.”

Steve blinked, his breath hitching slightly as your words settled over him.

Then, slowly, a small, almost disbelieving smile began to tug at the corners of his lips.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to hear something like that?” he asked, his voice soft, almost like he was afraid to break the moment.

You smiled back, your chest tight with emotion.

“Maybe as long as I’ve wanted to say it.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind of silence that felt full instead of empty, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

Then, Steve reached out, his hand brushing against yours before lacing his fingers through yours.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Like... like I finally found someone who sees me. Not just the guy who drives the kids around, or the guy who screws things up half the time. Just... me.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, and without thinking, you leaned closer, your free hand resting lightly on his arm.

“I see you, Steve,” you said softly, your eyes locked on his. “I’ve always seen you. And I—”

The words caught in your throat, but you didn’t need to finish them. The look in his eyes told you he already knew.

He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours, and for a moment, the world felt perfectly still.

“I think I’m falling for you,”

he murmured, his voice trembling slightly but filled with sincerity.

You closed your eyes, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I think I already have.”

The confession hung between you, weightless and freeing all at once.

Steve pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression soft but filled with something deeper, something you couldn’t quite put into words.

Then, with a tenderness that made your breath catch, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was soft, unhurried, and filled with all the emotions that had been building between you for weeks. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a promise. A promise that this was real, that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

When you finally pulled back, Steve smiled at you, his cheeks flushed but his eyes shining with a happiness you’d never seen before.

“So,” he said, his voice teasing but warm, “does this mean you’re my boyfriend for real now?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you squeezed his hand. “Yeah, Harrington. I guess it does.”

And as you sat there on the roof, your hand in his, the stars shining above, you knew that this was just the beginning. The beginning of something real. Something that finally felt like home.

Thank you, Hawkins.

---

Credits: The Steve Harrington border I used was made by me, but the blue border was made by: kodaswrld!! Go and support them 🫶🏽

[dollopole]

No because then I think about how much comfort and softness Arthur had to give up since his childhood. No parent figure he could actually admire and be proud of. He couldn’t even be a good husband to Guinevere, he had to be a leader and stoic, he couldn’t cry, and those rare moments where we see him letting himself go, he hugs Gwen so fiercely, he smiles so widely, so entirely, and that’s when your heart breaks, because you see him empty, like something’s missing, and then you realise all those small touches between him and Merlin are all he had ever had. Arthur ‘you’re the only friend I have and I couldn’t bare to lose you’ Pendragon; Arthur ‘Why are you so upset?’ Pendragon; Arthur ‘I haven’t seen you smile these past three days’ Pendragon; Arthur ‘I think we would probably get on’ Pendragon;

Arthur ‘Just… Just hold me’ Pendragon.

He treated Merlin like he wanted to be treated. He did it clumsily, but he still tried. Arthur only ever wanted to be cherished with soft care and tenderness, and I’m glad that was the last thing he got before dying.

And from Merlin, of all people.

(let’s also not forget that Arthur held Merlin’s hand before he died. He stroked his hair, and smiled before going away. In the end, that’s all he ever longed for)

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

thigh riding w slash

A/n: Yes yes absolutely

Warnings: Smut, thigh riding, jealousy, degradation, squirting, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

HELP I couldn’t see the guitar when I saw this

Slash and those fucking cats.

You understood his love for them, you loved them too but when he paid more attention to them than he did you it bugged you.

It's not like he would ever purposefully ignore you just to spend time with the cats, they just stole his attention from you every now and then. More often than not. He gets distracted by cats on the streets, it's like he looks for them.

Slash is the leader of the cats, they come out of the crevices in the cracks of the cement to find him. Slash is seven cats in a trench coat.

He came back from tour the day before and had spent time with you, every part of you, but today he'd been spending most of his time with the cats. They kept coming up to him and he couldn't just turn them away, that would be rude.

You were sitting in bed curled up next to him as a movie played on the TV in your shared room. It was just the two of you and that got you thinking.

You tugged your shorts down and started rubbing your clit, having opted out of wearing panties earlier. Obviously Slash noticed and smirked down at you. "Thought you would've had enough of touching yourself by now." His voice was low and soft in your ear as his arm snaked around you and his hand replaced your, thick fingers taking care of your sensitive nub.

You leaned into him and relaxed into the bed, letting your body get the attention it deserved, soft moans leaving you as his fingers moved faster.

The opened, which was strange since no one else was home. You couldn't see what happened immediately but you knew exactly what it was when you heard a meow and that grey figure hopped up onto the bed.

One of the cats had managed to open the closed door and snuck in during your time. Slash covered you up and wiped his hand on the sheets before reaching for his cat.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "Cock blocker..." You muttered.

"Aw, you made her mad." He teased, holding the cat and kissing its head. You could swear you saw the side eye it gave you.

"What happened to my attention?" You asked, looking up at him with a pout and big eyes.

"You got your attention." He said, petting the cat peacefully with his clean hand. You scoffed again and pushed the blanket down, revealing your naked bottom half. "Not my fault the cat came in." You crossed your arms over your chest, turning your nose up to him and looking back to the TV. "If you really that desperate get yourself off in front of the cat."

You'd prefer it if the cat wasn't here at all but if he insisted on giving it more attention than you then so be it.

You moved to straddle Slash's lap, when he saw what you were doing he figured he'd be nice and move down on the bed so you at least wouldn't be fighting the cat for space on his lap, though he still played with the cat before thinking of looking at you.

He was still in his jeans, not ready to strip for bed yet. Feeling the fabric as your dragged your clit over it was almost too much, it felt so fucking good.

You kept grinding on his thigh to get yourself off, hands moving from your own legs to the mattress, never staying for too long and continuously trying to find the perfect spot to rest. Whenever you rode him your hands would be on him, on his stomach or chest, sometimes on the headboard or wall, but those weren't options with the fucking furball in the way.

You whined and whined, waiting for something but he just kept petting and staring at the cat, occasionally mumbling something to the cat about you, how whiny and needy you were. "Making mommy all jealous, are you?" He smiled at the cat. Of course you were the cats parents because Slash was losing his mind, how could he pay attention to it when you were all ready for him?

"Slash, please." You whined, reaching for his wrist.

"I told you to get yourself off." The first thing he'd said directly to you in a while.

"I know, and I can just please pay attention to me." He sighed and pushed you off of him, taking the cat and walking towards the door. Your eyes stayed glued to the wet spot on his jeans as he locked the cat out of the bedroom and came back to you.

He sat with his hands behind his head. "I'm not fucking touching you." You pouted slightly at the harsh tone but accepted nonetheless and got yourself back onto his thigh and continuing your movements.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

This wasn't much better than when the cat was in the room, he still wasn't looking at you, he wasn't touching you. "Fucking slut, thought I was done with you last night." He'd mumble such harsh words into your ears. It hurt to hear him say such things about you but it felt so good, tying up a knot in your gut.

He knew what he was doing, he always knew what he was doing with you and when that knot finally snapped and you came hard on his thigh, squirting all over him and making a mess, you knew you'd be rewarded for your good work.

"Oh, fuck." He muttered, pushing you back a bit so he could watch your cum soak into his jeans. Your body trembled and your arms stayed wrapped around him as tears fell from your eyes.

He looked up at you with a smile, a bigger one than he'd give the cats for sure. "What a good girl, making a mess on my leg like that all by yourself?" You smiled and nodded as he let you cling to him tighter once more.

"I-I can get attention now..?" You asked, your voice soft with a pleading tone.

"Of course, anything you want." He said, kissing your cheek. You gave a small amused hum at that.

"No more cats in the bedroom." He gave your ass a smack.

[loudclan-clangen]

We have gotten a pretty good insight on how Rosehippaw illness had affected her and her parents but what about her sister?

As someone who knew someone who had a sick sibling it can be a big can of worms. Feelings of jealousy for the attention and special treatment thier sibling gets mixed with fear and sadness that the sibling is sick. I would love to know more about Dogwoodpaw as a person.

Love your work! ❤️

Dogwoodpaw, my poor, sweet, tired little girl, has never had a negative thought toward her sister ever in her entire life. Some combination of being the older more capable sibling and taking after her mom means that she has completely dedicated her life to taking care of Rosehippaw, much to her parent's deep concern. She hasn't slept a day in her life. Every free moment is dedicated to keeping her sister caught up on training and every moment of her actual training is spent trying to figure out how she's going to teach it to Rosehippaw later. This has resulted in an incredible amount of talent for Dogwoodpaw, but she has outright refused an early graduation anytime it is brought up, insisting that she won't earn her warrior name until her sister does. It's sweet, but it can't last. Sooner or later something has to give, and that something is likely either going to be Rosehip dying or Dogwood snapping and resenting her sister for holding her back. For now though they're as close as can be, and though Rosehippaw might find her a little bit smothering at times, Dogwood wouldn't have it any other way.

[Disclaimer: Dogwoodpaw is NOT exhibiting healthy behavior. There is not a "right way" to react to complex situations like this.]

Yes! At least if they want to become mediator at some point in the future. Theoretically they could give up their claim to the position if they wanted to, and then they would be allowed to, but that would be pretty uncommon.

For future calculation "former mentor relationships" are on, (not because I think that is a good idea but because the drama) so there's a little more wiggle room there, but I can confidently tell you that Silt isn't looking for a mate right now, and won't be taking any current characters as a mate. (Personally, I think that they would make a power couple with Jaggedtail, but alas, it was up to the game). I'll also let you know that they in fact do not have any more kittens with Owlstar. If they did I wouldn't have broken them up in the comic. (Joining up with Tundra and Chickadee would be fun too, as they are pretty close friends with Chickadeeblur, but the poly update doesn't come out until the *checks notes* 6th leader... wow this save has been around a while.)

[eriochromatic]

I have a question

What is Silco to Vi ? Only a care taker or even a father figure like in canon with Jinx *gasp* will she call him someday dad too ? 😱

(I'm assuming this is about my AU otherwise it would make no sense LMFAO)

yeah I would say he's definitely a father figure to Vi, but obviously their relationship is vastly different from Silco and Powder/Jinx in canon… Silco still sees himself in Vi but in the "hotblooded revolutionary ready to throw hands at topside" way rather than "I got betrayed by someone who was supposed to protect me" for Powder,,

I think in canon Silco was definitely projecting all his trauma w/ Vander onto Powder's relationship with Vi (I don't blame Silco though bc parents just want to help their children in any way they can, Silco thought by forging a new identity he was able to "get past that" so that's what he taught Powder) but if Silco is dealing with Vi instead, I don't think he'd do that since it's not relevant. Since Vi's older, it's not gonna be as easy to influence her compared to Powder who was like 10 or something.

We never get to see exactly what Silco tells Jinx about Vander (beyond that short conversation in the river where it seems he's still pretty bitter and Jinx is totally over him reiterating the same thing over and over again lol). Vi has a lot more memories with Vander compared to Powder (she would probably be Vander defender #1), so I feel like during those talks rather than Silco focusing on how Vander betrayed him specifically, he would focus on the fact that Vander in a certain way betrayed all of Zaun by making that deal w/ the enforcers. Vi was already sort of feeling that in s1e2 when Vander refused to fight the enforcers, Silco would definitely play into that frustration bc I mean, he still felt the same way. I think after the first few arguments about Vander both Silco and Vi would be on the same page of basically Vander being a good man but a stagnant leader who was too comfortable w/ the status quo (which is basically my point of view as well HAHAHA)

As for specifically calling him dad idk though HAHA I guess that's just not rlly a word I think the characters would use in the sense that like. Vi, Jinx (also Mylo) calls Vander "their father" but doesn't use the term "Dad" for him directly, they just call him Vander. I think it would be the same here where if you ask Vi who Silco is to her she'd probably say something like "he's like my father" (I don't think she'd directly say "he's my dad" since it would be too painful and she probably has emotional baggage abt erasing Vander and Connol's memories or smth idk) but the sentiment is still there. Same thing w/ Silco tbh like he'd obviously see Vi as his daughter but he would never say it out loud (unless he was pushed to the brink like the canon situation where he calls Jinx his daughter LMFAO hopefully that never happens to him). I think they would both outwardly downplay how much they actually care for each other

[kokoch4n3l]

ˏˋ main yahaan hoon ࿐ྂ "I'm in the lights of your eyes, you see me wherever you look"

summary: in which you meet Sano Manjiro a month before your wedding and fall in love. you didn't realize you fell in love with him till the pre-wedding rituals began.

pairing(s): bonten!mikey x desi!reader

notes: title translates to 'I'm here'. a purely self-indulgent fic based on Veer-Zaara(2004)'s song Main Yahaan Hoon if Veer was a gang leader and was actually at the wedding instead of Zaara hallucinating him. line dividers by rookthornesartistry heart divider by cafekitsune

warnings: infidelity, cheating, arranged marriages, implied emotionally absent parents, emotional blackmail, suggestive themes, implied oral(f), manjiro carries reader, slightly open ending

word count: 5690

Your father was a politician, businessman and just well very rich. You’re his only daughter so he spoils you rotten. Giving you all the things you can ever want. He was a good man, your mother a great person too. However, it wasn’t a very emotionally fulfilling relationship. You were okay with it though. Jewels and clothes sated the ache in your heart even if it was temporary. You got engaged almost as soon as you turned of age. The man was just a little bit older and also a politician like your father. Arranged marriages were common in your culture and you had never dated before anyway. It’s about a month before the wedding you meet Sano Manjiro. You aren’t sure what he does but he’s also really rich like your father. He has a few close business associates and they all have matching full moon hanafuda tattoos. Sanzu Haruchiyo let you trace his tattoo for some reason after seeing your fascination with it. 

Bonten were business associates of your father. You weren’t sure exactly for what but you also couldn't care less. They were all pretty fun people. You made them watch Bollywood movies with you and do a whole bunch of other things and they did it without any complaint and seemed to enjoy it as well. They were all cool and then there was Sano Manjiro… 

Sano Manjiro was different from the rest. He had a quiet intensity about him, a presence that demanded attention without a single word. You noticed his eyes first—dark, deep, and endlessly contemplative. He was always observing, absorbing everything around him with a sharp, discerning gaze. Despite his quiet demeanour, there was something undeniably magnetic about him. At first, you thought he wouldn’t be putting up with your childish games but he proved you wrong. When you called him a stupid idiot he didn’t get mad but instead, he smiled. He was amused. For some reason, it surprised you because he didn’t seem like the type to smile or just show any kind of emotion in general. 

Your father, of course, invites them all to your wedding. It was all fine but you don’t want to marry your fiancé. He was nice at first but there was something about him that put you off. You didn’t like that man. You sit in your father’s office in your engagement outfit while music echoes from the bottom floor of the mansion to the top. A white lengha with intricate embroidery adorns your figure with a full-sleeve blouse along with a diamond necklace gifted by your future mother-in-law and a matching tikka in the same style resting in the center of your forehead. Your dupatta is draped over your head and right now it feels too heavy. Although you and your fiancé were already engaged, your mother-in-law insisted on having a flashy ceremony to kick start the wedding week.  “You’re my only child… Hence, I’ve pampered you and given you freedom” Your father says, his hands clasped behind his back and using his businessman voice “I haven’t raised you like a girl but like a boy”

There is a lump in your throat. You know if you speak you’ll cry. Your father walks toward you. “Usually the mother has to explain to her daughters about her duties. But since I think of you as my son, I’ll explain your duties to you”

You look up at him. You’re sitting in his chair the same way you would when you were a child. But unlike back then, your bare feet press flat against the hardwood floor. “You already know that your grandfather was a respected politician. But he died a few days before he could attain success. Since that day, as his heir, I’ve been trying to take his party to great heights but I’ve been unsuccessful so far” He says and you know already what he will say next “But with the help of your finacé’s father, I can attain that success”

You don’t feel too good. The lump in your throat gets bigger and you desperately try to swallow it. Your father turns your back to you, staring at your family picture. “Soon you’ll get married into their family. It’s your duty…” He pauses and turns to look at you again “...to understand the importance of this relationship. Spread happiness, whether the times are good or bad and strengthen the bond of every relationship and to protect the honour of both families at all costs. A small mistake or a bit of carelessness from your end could ruin everything… I hope you understand what I’m trying to say.”

He knows, he knows, he knows. Your father had a feeling you no longer wished to marry the man you were betrothed to. You swallow the lump in your throat and whisper out a pitiful “yes.”

“Is there anything you wish to say?”

You simply shake your head no. You couldn’t. You had to marry this man even if you didn’t want to. Your father was practically begging you without actually begging. He smiles. “Come here”

You stand up, your anklets jingle with each step you take. “It’s been so long since I saw my daughter smile,” He says as you now stand in front of him “I hope you haven’t left it in Japan”

You smile weakly. How were you to tell him you did? How do you tell your father you left your heart in Japan? He pulls you in for a hug and a single tear runs down your cheek. 

You did not wish to marry the man you were promised to but you didn’t want to break your father’s heart either. 

Your father leads you down the large marble staircase, the railing covered with flowers and the entire bottom floor decorated lavishly. The vibrant colours and festive sounds of the pre-wedding celebration fill the air, yet your heart feels heavy with an unspoken sorrow. As you descend the staircase, your eyes scan the crowd, seeking a familiar face—a face that brought unexpected joy and confusion to your life. In the midst of the lively guests, you spot Sano Manjiro standing quietly at the edge of the room with his associates. He is dressed in beige slacks and a silk back button-up shirt, his presence commanding even in the bustling environment. His eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, the noise around you fades. His gaze, deep and inscrutable, seems to reach into the very depths of your soul. The rituals proceed with the grandeur expected of such an event. The music, the dancing, the laughter—all blend into a blur as your mind drifts back to the times spent with Manjiro and his associates. The times when you could be yourself when you laughed genuinely and felt a connection beyond words. Sanzu Haruchiyo, always mischievous yet kind, had once teased you about your fascination with their tattoos. “Do you want one too?” he joked, letting you trace the lines of the intricate hanafuda design. 

You had laughed, but deep down, there was something about those moments that felt more real than anything else in your life. As you and your fiancé exchange rings, you feel Manjiro’s eyes on you, a silent support that gives you strength. The night progresses, and you find yourself stealing glances at him, your heart aching with an unspoken truth. You didn’t want this arranged marriage. You wanted something more, something that only he seemed to understand. 

It feels stupid though. It’s probably a simple infatuation but oh you had never felt this way in your life before and even as your fiancé slides the engagement ring onto your finger, the only thing that goes through your mind is Manjiro.

You sit alone in your room late at night on your bed, too lazy to sit at your dresser. Your dupatta was carelessly discarded at the foot of your bed as soon as you entered your room, too lazy to even remove your lengha and get in bed. The day had been tiring. You start to remove your jewelry, starting with the large diamond necklace that felt way too heavy. It’s as you are taking off the tikka from your forehead that someone enters. You don’t need to look up to know who it is. The air shifts, and the familiar, intense presence washes over you. It’s Manjiro. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, his voice soft, almost a whisper.

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak. He steps closer, his movements silent on the plush carpet. He doesn’t say anything else, just stands there, watching as you fumble with the clasp of your tikka. Your fingers tremble, and the delicate piece slips from your grasp, falling onto your lap. “Let me,” he offers, reaching out. His hands are gentle but firm as he takes over, carefully removing the tikka and setting it aside. 

His touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel a warmth spreading through you, melting the anxiety and sorrow that had been weighing you down. “Thank you,” you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible.

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. There’s a question in his gaze, an unspoken query that you can’t quite decipher. The silence between you is heavy with words left unsaid, emotions unacknowledged. “Why did you come here?” you ask, needing to break the silence, to understand why he’s here, why he makes you feel the way you do.

“I needed to see you,” he replies simply, his gaze steady. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

His concern touches you deeply, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. You blink them back, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. Manjiro sits down next to you, being careful to not sit on your skirt. He reaches over and starts to remove your earrings. Despite his fingers being calloused and rough, his hands are gentle. He touches you like the slightest touch might break you. Each brush of his fingers against your skin feels like a promise, unspoken but powerful. You sit there, letting him help you, feeling a strange sense of peace settle over you. The weight of the day's events begins to lift, replaced by the warmth of his presence. When he's done, he sets the earrings aside and meets your gaze again. His eyes are filled with something you can't quite name, something that makes your heart beat faster. “Let’s get this off, hm?” Manjiro’s hand reaches around you and tugs the strings on the back of your blouse free

Your breath catches, but you nod, trusting him implicitly. The fabric loosens, and you feel the pressure on your chest easing. He helps you out of the heavy, ornate lengha, his movements were careful, his eyes never straying where they shouldn't. This was wrong. So wrong. You were a damn cheater. But as Manjiro unzips your blouse and pulls it off your arms, you can’t find yourself to care. “‘Jiro…” Your breath is shaky as he lowers your bare body down

“Don’t worry” he whispers, a heavy hand cupping your cheek so tenderly

Something in your head tells you it’s been years since this man was tender to anyone. Your breath hitches at the touch of his roughened palm against your cheek, a stark contrast to the softness in his gaze. Manjiro's thumb gently brushes away a stray tear that you hadn’t realized had fallen, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that seems to pierce through your very soul. "I shouldn't be here" you murmur, your voice barely audible, a mix of fear and yearning.

It was a little stupid you were even saying that since it was your own room. "But you want me here" he counters softly, not a question, but a statement of truth.

The words hang between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. Your heart beats wildly, torn between duty and desire. You don’t reply, unable to deny the truth in his statement. Manjiro’s presence is intoxicating, a dangerous allure that you find impossible to resist. He leans in, his breath warm against your skin. "Tell me to leave, and I will," he whispers, his lips so close to yours that you can feel the heat of his words. "But if you want me to stay…"

You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. The choice is yours, and you know what your heart wants. "Stay" you breathe, barely more than a whisper, but enough for him to hear and without missing a beat he slides your engagement ring off your finger

Manjiro doesn’t take your virginity that night. Instead, he calls you a good girl for saving yourself for after marriage and then gets down between your legs and ravishes you. 

 The next morning was the Haldi ceremony. In the ceremony turmeric paste would be smeared on your face and oil on your hair. It was more of a fun kind of thing anyway and during all the weddings you have attended in the past, all the guests would end up getting the turmeric paste all over themselves while playing around with it. You were wearing a yellow salwar kameez with flowers embroidered on the top and your dupatta was bright pink. You sit on the ground by the pool while your cousins hold up a heavier more embroidered dupatta over top of you like shielding you from the sky. “Don’t put too much” You warn your dad as he smears some of the turmeric paste on your cheek

There is oil dripping down your forehead from when your cousin decided he wanted to be funny and poured the entire bowl on your head. Tumeric paste is smeared on your feet, arms, cheeks and nose. The vibrant colours of the ceremony blur together, a swirl of yellow and pink, laughter echoing around you. Yet, despite the cheerful chaos, your mind is elsewhere, drifting back to the previous night. Manjiro's touch lingers on your skin like a haunting melody, one you cannot shake off no matter how hard you try. Your father's laughter brings you back to the present, his smile wide as he steps aside for the next relative to apply the turmeric paste.

As the ceremony continues, you feel a pair of eyes on you. You glance up and catch a glimpse of Manjiro standing a little away from the festivities, his usual quiet intensity softened by a hint of something tender. He stands apart from his associates, watching you with an unreadable expression. For a moment, the world narrows down to just the two of you. The noise of the ceremony fades, replaced by the silent conversation happening between your gazes. Your heart beats faster as you remember his whispered promises from the night before. His words, his touch—they haunt you, make you question everything you thought you knew about your life and your impending marriage. You know it's reckless, dangerous even, to let yourself feel this way. But you can't help it. Not when his presence brings you a sense of peace and belonging you’ve never felt before. “This stuff smells weird” Koko comments as he crouches in front of you and smells the turmeric paste on his fingers before smearing it on your cheek “Are you sure this is safe for your skin?”

“Of course it is” you reassure with a smile

The rest of Bonten does the same. Finally, it’s Manjiro’s turn. He crouches down in front of you, an unknown emotion swirling in his eyes. Without a word, he takes the yellow paste and smears some on your right cheek then the left. His touch is gentle, yet it sends shivers down your spine, the same way it did the night before. The world around you seems to disappear as he smooths the paste over your skin, his eyes never leaving yours. The silence between you is filled with unspoken words, emotions too raw to be expressed in the midst of the celebration. Your heart pounds in your chest as his fingers linger on your skin, his touch both comforting and electrifying. "You look beautiful," he murmurs, his voice so low only you can hear. 

His words are simple, but the intensity behind them makes your breath hitch. "Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the noise of the celebration. 

You feel a blush creep up your cheeks, mixing with the turmeric paste. He offers you a small, almost shy smile, and for a moment, you see a vulnerability in him that he usually keeps hidden. You bring your hand up and smear the paste on his cheek too, making him laugh. His laughter is a rare sound, rich and deep, and it reverberates through you, filling your heart with warmth. You can't help but smile in response, your fingers lingering on his cheek for a moment longer than necessary. The world around you resumes its chaotic pace, but the connection between you and Manjiro remains, a silent promise amidst the noise and colour of the celebration.

As the Haldi ceremony continues, your mind is a whirlwind of emotions. The weight of your engagement ring, now conspicuously absent from your finger, feels like a liberation and a burden all at once. You glance at Manjiro again, finding comfort in his steady gaze. It’s as if he understands the turmoil within you without needing to ask.

As the ceremony comes to an end and the guests start to leave, you struggle to pick your dupatta off one of the chairs with your turmeric-covered hands. “Damn it” you mutter and look around for someone to help you

“Here you go” Rindo picks up your dupatta for you

You sigh in relief. “Thank you. Can you help me go up to my room?”

It was going to be a task going up to your room while covered in turmeric paste so you needed help. Rindo nods and offers you his arm, guiding you carefully through the crowd and up the stairs. The turmeric paste makes everything slippery, and you're grateful for his steady presence. As you make your way to your room, you can feel Manjiro's eyes on you, a silent promise of his support and understanding. Once inside your room, Rindo helps you sit on the edge of your bed, his touch careful and respectful. “Do you need anything else?” he asks, concern evident in his voice.

You shake your head, offering him a grateful smile, your eyes lingering for a moment of the front of his throat where the full moon hanafuda tattoo it etched then you look back up at his eyes. “No, thank you. I’ll manage from here.”

Rindo nods and leaves, closing the door softly behind him. You sit there for a moment, the events of the day and the night before swirling in your mind. You know you need to wash off the turmeric paste, but your thoughts keep drifting back to Manjiro. Eventually, you stand and make your way to the bathroom. The warm water washes away the turmeric, leaving your skin tingling and fresh. 

Later that night was the mendhi ceremony. Your hands are covered in intricate designs of flowers and swirls made with henna all the way up to your elbows and your feet with the same. “Ma~” you whine to your mother who was too busy talking to her sister to feed you 

Your mother laughs, a twinkle in her eye as she waves you off, engrossed in her conversation. You sigh, looking at the plate of food in front of you, and then at your hands, which are still wet with henna. The intricate designs are beautiful, but they make it impossible for you to eat on your own. You glance around the room, hoping to find someone to help you. Your eyes meet Manjiro’s from across the room. He’s standing with his associates, but his gaze is fixed on you, a soft, knowing smile playing on his lips. Before you can beckon him over, he starts to walk towards you, effortlessly weaving through the crowd. He kneels down next to you, his presence a comforting weight. “Need some help?” he asks, his voice low and warm.

You nod, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Yes, please. I can’t eat with this on.”

Manjiro picks up the spoon and gently lifts a small portion of food to your lips. His movements are careful, and deliberate, as if this simple act holds profound significance. You open your mouth, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. As he feeds you, you catch the subtle smirk on his face, and you can't help but smile back. “This is quite the look for you,” he teases, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Covered in henna and unable to eat by yourself.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, your voice playful. “This is supposed to be a special time, you know?”

“It is,” he agrees, his tone softening. “And you look beautiful.”

The sincerity in his words makes your heart skip a beat. You chew and swallow, the taste of the food mingling with the warmth spreading through your chest. Manjiro continues to feed you, the moment intimate despite the bustling celebration around you. Each spoonful feels like a silent promise, a shared secret that binds you closer together. “Food is spicy…” He murmurs 

“You don’t like spicy food?” you ask him

He shakes his head no. “I like the sweets though… After you get married bring me some in Japan?” You laugh softly, the sound mingling with the music and chatter in the room. “Of course,” you promise, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of sharing such a simple pleasure with him. “I’ll bring you all the sweets you want.”

Manjiro's smile widens, a rare glimpse of genuine happiness on his usually stoic face. “I’ll hold you to that,” he replies, his gaze steady on yours. “But only if you promise to come back soon.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and you find yourself nodding before you can even think. “I promise,” you say, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

The rest of the mendhi ceremony passes in a blur of laughter and music, but the memory of that moment with Manjiro lingers, a silent promise of things to come. As the night draws to a close, you find yourself reluctant to leave his side, the bond between you growing stronger with each passing moment. 

It’s as you lay in bed and stare at your henna-stained hands, searching for your fiancé’s name among the intricate designs. But as you scan the patterns, your heart sinks, and a furrow forms on your brow. The once-clear inscription has been smeared beyond recognition, lost amidst the swirls of henna. A mix of emotions washes over you—relief, guilt, and a pang of sadness. Relief because it feels like a sign, a small reprieve from the impending marriage you’re dreading. Guilt because you know you shouldn’t feel relieved, and shouldn’t be hoping for a way out of a commitment you made. And sadness because despite everything, there’s a part of you that still longs for the simplicity of what could have been. You trace the faint outlines of the henna design, your mind swirling with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

The bond between you and Manjiro grows stronger with each passing moment, a silent promise of a future you never dared to imagine. But the reality of your situation weighs heavily on your shoulders, reminding you of the duty and obligations that bind you to your fiancé and your family.

With a heavy sigh, you curl your fingers into fists. The events of the day replay in your mind—the stolen moments with Manjiro, the whispered promises, the shared laughter. Despite the uncertainty of the future, one thing is clear—you’re falling for him, and there’s no turning back.

The next night is the ladies' sangeet. It’s the last thing left and the next morning is the wedding. You sit with all your female relatives as they sing and dance to old folk songs. You sit among them, a forced smile plastered on your face, your mind drifting to thoughts of the impending wedding. Tomorrow, you'll be bound to a man you don't love, forced into a life of duty and obligation that feels suffocating. When no one is looking, you stand up and hed to the backyard where most your male relatives are, drinking away as usual. You can see Ran has unfortunately been cornered by one of your drunk uncles and is explaining Punjabi politics to him. Ran looks at you for help but you just grin and shake your head. You spot Manjiro walking over to you and you smile at him. “Hi” You say as you walk through the garden together, you anklets jingling with each step you take. 

"Hi," Manjiro replies, his voice low and warm, a stark contrast to the chaos of the sangeet unfolding behind you. His presence brings a sense of calm, a welcome respite from the suffocating atmosphere of obligation and expectation.

You walk through the garden together, the soft glow of lanterns casting a warm light over the flowers and foliage. The air is filled with the sweet scent of jasmine and roses, a stark contrast to the heavy perfume of the crowded hall. You feel a weight lift off your shoulders with each step, the knot of anxiety in your chest slowly unravelling in his presence. "Having fun?" Manjiro asks, his gaze steady on yours. 

There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the absurdity of the situation. You shake your head, a wry smile playing on your lips. "Not exactly," you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. "I feel like I'm suffocating in there."

Manjiro nods in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "I can imagine," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper “Japanese weddings are not this… festive or colourful. Must be a little overwhelming” 

You nod, grateful for his understanding. "It's not just that," you confess, your voice tinged with frustration. "It's the weight of expectation, the pressure to conform to tradition and duty." You pause, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "I feel like I'm being suffocated by it all."

Manjiro listens in silence, his gaze unwavering as he takes in your words. There's a depth to his understanding, a sense of empathy that makes you feel seen in a way you haven't felt in a long time. "I know what it's like to feel trapped," he says finally, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "To feel like you're living a life that's not your own."

His words strike a chord within you, resonating with the turmoil you've been feeling. "Do you ever wish things were different?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Manjiro's gaze softens, a hint of something tender in his eyes. "All the time," he admits, his voice filled with honesty and you watch his hand come up to touch the full moon hanafuda tattoo on the back of his neck "But sometimes, we have to make the best of the hand we're dealt." 

You nod in understanding, a pang of sympathy tugging at your heart as you take in the vulnerability in Manjiro's words. His admission resonates with your own feelings of frustration and longing, the desire for a life beyond the confines of duty and expectation. "But that doesn't mean we have to give up hope," you say softly "We can still fight for what we want, for the freedom to live our lives on our own terms."

Manjiro's gaze meets yours, a flicker of something akin to hope dancing in his eyes. "And what do you want?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper, as if afraid to voice the question aloud.

You hesitate for a moment, the weight of your desires heavy on your shoulders. “I… I don’t know yet”

And Manjiro simply smiles at your answer and says “well clock is ticking… better hurry up and figure it out” then turns to go back to where he was sitting with your father, other business partners and relatives 

As Manjiro walks away, leaving you alone in the tranquil garden, his words linger in the air, a gentle reminder of the urgency of your situation. The weight of expectation and duty presses down on you once more. You watch Manjiro's retreating figure, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns, and you can't help but feel a sense of longing stirring within you. Despite the uncertainty of the future, one thing is clear—your heart is leading you towards him, towards a life of freedom and possibility.

You turn back towards the bustling sangeet, the music and laughter spilling out into the night air. Tomorrow is the wedding, the final culmination of weeks of preparation and anticipation. But as you rejoin the festivities, your mind is elsewhere, filled with thoughts of the man who has captured your heart and the future that awaits.

As the night wears on and the sangeet draws to a close, you find yourself lost in a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, apprehension, and a simmering sense of rebellion— something you shouldn’t be feeling. Tomorrow, you'll be bound to a man you don't love, forced into a life of duty and obligation. But tonight, in the quiet solitude of the garden, you allow yourself to dream of a different future, one where you're free to follow your heart, no matter where it leads.

As the first light of dawn breaks over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the garden, you feel a sense of anticipation stirring within you. In a few hours, you’ll be married. It’s scary. So scary and you feel sick. You sit in a yellow kameez and white salwar, fingers trembling as you put on the naath, hooking it to your nose and fixing the chain over your ear to see how you look in it. The cool metal of the jewellery rests over your lips that you’ve bitten raw. Your makeup lays untouched, face bare. You need to start getting ready. 

It’s the early hours of the morning, not many are awake except the servants who are getting the house ready. Your deep red wedding lengha is draped over your bed and seems to be mocking you. Your fingers linger on the intricate embroidery of the deep red lehenga, but the touch brings you no joy, only a sense of resignation. As you stare at your reflection in the mirror, the naath adorning your face, you can't help but feel a sense of disconnect. The woman staring back at you seems like a stranger, a mere shell of the person you once were. The weight of the impending marriage hangs heavy in the air, suffocating you with its inevitability. It’s suffocating, and overwhelming, and you find it hard to breathe.

But then, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, a sense of determination takes root within you. You refuse to let fear dictate your future, to surrender to the expectations of others. You may not know what lies ahead, but you know one thing for certain—you can't go through with this marriage. Your father may love you and only want the best for you but you are not a pawn in his plan to rule the world. 

Gathering your courage, you make a decision—to follow your heart, no matter the consequences. It won't be easy, and there will be challenges ahead, but you refuse to let fear hold you back any longer.

As you slip out of your room after grabbing your yellow dupatta, the quiet of the early morning enveloping you like a comforting embrace, you feel a sense of liberation wash over you. It’s just as you make it past the hall, your anklets unfortunately still jingling with each step(you probably should have taken them off), you come face to face with Manjiro, Sanzu and Rindo. “Hm? And where do you think you’re going?” Manjiro asks and his hand comes up and lifts the naath up then lets it fall back in place resting over your upper lip 

You freeze, caught off guard by the unexpected encounter. For a moment, you're at a loss for words, your mind racing to come up with an explanation. But as you meet Manjiro's gaze, you see something in his eyes—a flicker of understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the turmoil raging within you. "I..." you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "I don’t want to get married"

The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of your confession. You expect judgment, condemnation, but instead, there's only silence. Manjiro's gaze softens, a hint of something tender in his eyes as he reaches out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “Hm?”

You let out a shaky breath, henna-covered hands clenching at your sides. “You asked me last night what I wanted and this is what I want…”

There is a moment of silence. Manjiro looks back at Sanzu and nods and the latter pulls out his phone, frantically typing away texts. “C’mon then” Manjiro says and sweeps you off your feet in the same way the male leads in Bollywood movies would

You aren’t sure how things will turn out but as Manjiro carries you down the marble staircase and into a car, you don’t think about anything else. Just him. Manjiro’s arms feel solid and reassuring around you as he carries you down the marble staircase, the weight of your decision becoming lighter with each step. The early morning light filters through the windows, casting a golden hue over everything, as if the world itself is blessing your choice.

As he sets you down into the backseat of a car Manjiro brushes a strand of your hair away from your face then kisses your forehead. “I’m here” he whispers

end notes: at the end, when Sanzu is on his phone, he's texting Koko to post a bunch of evidence of corruption that reader's fiancé’s family has done. Now MIkey could have done that before but he wanted it to be reader's choice so.... yeah. Hope you enjoyed it loll.

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{ Here is the post that comes from this Post that comes from this Idea so here you gremlins go hope you like it! }~

🪻Family Of Fea🪻

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Clockwork knew this was going to happen but how he hoped it would be different that his parents would accept him as he is and take down the G.I.W so their children would be safe like is a few timelines but as he looks down at young Daniel who now has massive scaring on his back and neck,arms with a few scars on his face and legs he knew it was one of the more…unsavory timelines.

But now some how Clockwork needed to take care and heal the boy but he can’t take care of him in the way he needs as Clockwork is a ghost and never was human and with how the Ghost Zone is it would just end up hurting the boys human side but Clockwork still needed to keep a eye on him and have protection from the G.I.W and anything would hurt him….

That’s when it hits him, Nymphaea Forest it’s the home of a trooping of Fea that are known to have a certain soft spot for children especially hurt children and by Fea ages Young Daniel would be considered a child and that would be very safe due to only him knowing how to get there and the feral changings that reside in the forest with them, yes that sounds like a wonderful idea! He’ll bring the boy to them when he wakes up.

===========================

When Nightshade felt the air around the forest change she knew that Clockwork has needs something while she runs from tree to tree to where the river bank is as it is the only way to be here as she does so she is thinking of what Clockworks could possibly want with them he barely talks with them so why now?

But as her wispy figure sees Clockwork and a child?,a hurt child… oh she thinks she knows what’s going on as she comes into view the child ( the too small child he looks around 14-15 far to small she’ll fix that as soon as possible ) he doesn’t hide from her, good it will be easier to help and heal him if he isn’t scared

A few minutes Clockwork explains the situation to her (while ignoring the other figures that are staying at the tree line and listening to them) and of course she agrees to take care of the boy

She holds out her hand for the boy who she now knows is named Danny for him and he grabs hers and she walks him to the tree line to his new home

===========================

~{ Now we doing something a bit different today to try it out and if I don’t this will be so confusing }~

Let’s start with names and roles!

The leader of the Group-Nightshade

The Helper, helps The leader and Healer-Fig

The Healer-Danny

The Guard-Wolfbane or Bane

The Mischief-Belladonna, Bella or Donna

The Children-Jade and Jasper

Fun facts!

Fig was originally from a different group of Fea but joined them after his OG group kicked him out

Jade and jasper’s father left them in the woods after their mother died

Nightshade, Belladonna, and Wolfbane are the OG group of this

Danny looks and acts like the twins mother so they sometimes call him “momma”

The others besides the twins and Danny only come out at night due to the Fea having sensitive eyes and skin to the sun but the fog makes it so they can see out into the sun but can’t be out

The feral changings live in holes in the ground they dug the first night and day

Twins sometimes call Nightshade “Grandma” and the others including the Changings “Aunt” and “Uncle” like how Danny sometimes calls the other “sister” or “brother”

The Fea have a rule: if you see a G.I.W kill on site 

===========================

The Justice league were fighting the new big bad it was a more magic inculcate villain but not really that powerful or good at it really but he some how got his hands on a spell book with powerful spells and that’s why all of them ( Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, The flash, Green lantern and Green arrow etc) are fighting him instead of one or two of them

And than when they were about to finally get down ( He’s like a cockroach! Flash said after hitting him ) he used a spell that brought them closer together and transported them somewhere but they passed out as soon as they got hit…

They all wake up on a river bank? It looks like the sun is going down soon ( this is important later on) and one of them notices that there are some fishing traps ( when the children what fish so fish traps ) so they start to walk in to look for a way out until they hear the sounds of…children laughing and running? In a few seconds they see two albino twins running and laughing they are barefoot and their clothes are covered in plants and a bit of dirt from playing

As the little girl runs from her brother she ends up not paying attention to her surroundings ( The twins with Danny have memorized the hole forest as it doesn’t really change unless someone moves it ) and ends up running into Batman at full speed… and she falls to the ground due to the expecting someone there

And as someone her age does she starts crying and her brother immediately goes to comfort her and a few minutes later she calms down and just hide behind her brother ( this is the first time since coming here is she and Jasper meet someone without anyone else so yeah their a little nervous )

The hero’s ask to see their mom or dad so the twins start to walk to the house and the twins say some things that would be considered “concerning” for people outside of the know ( like the feral changings or the hero’s misunderstanding the things they say ) and when they get to the house for the hero’s they see this 16-17 year old that the twins are calling “momma” and asking when “the others are coming home” and stuff like that

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~{ And that’s it! I hope you guys like it, for the details they are going to stay mostly the same but if you all want more information on that I’ll reblog it with that stuff also just a little fun fact about this I made this up after watching the movie “Watchers” it’s one of my favs }~

~{ See you all soon, byeeeee }~

[loveless-in-nowheresville]

I’ve been thinking about Bruno Bucciarati so much lately, and a friend has inspired me to share this little Bruno thing I wrote here, which I’m hoping to turn into a full fic eventually since I like the idea

Notes/content: Excerpt from my A03 stuff, Bruno Bucciarati x reader, honestly kinda angsty, a bit suggestive at moments, reader is not part of Passione, Bruno acknowledged as the parental figure of his team

Bruno Bucciarati in:

“JUST GO FOR IT ALREADY!!”

Bruno and you had always seemed close. Something that was a bit too intimate to be considered just good friends, and honestly the first time anyone in his team watched him interact with you they genuinely believed you were their boss’s flame…but he would casually wave off such a silly theory, claiming that the two of you were just close friends and nothing more.

Some “close friendship” you two had though…with the way you practically sat in his lap when him and his team visited your place, and seemed to have all sorts of inside jokes and secrets with each other…you had a sort of understanding of him no one else even came close to having.

Not to mention how he almost visibly dropped his guard around you. He smiled more, laughed more, relaxed more…simply because you were near enough to calm his heart.

And of course the incident where you both hadn’t noticed a few pairs of eyes on you, and you may have shared a very passionate goodbye kiss that was MEANT to be completely private. Safe to say, very awkward for Bruno’s handful of traumatized team members…kinda felt like they were watching their parents kiss.

It just really seemed like you were the one. His true love, soulmate, sweetheart…in the rare occasions where you spent a few nights with them in their moments of respite, you would even share a bed with him, just the two of you alone, your bodies intertwined in the ever elusive peace and quiet, the rare moment when he didn’t have to be a strong and fearless and confident leader and could instead just try and lay his soul bare to you. He usually struggled to share his burdens with you, as they weren’t yours to carry and he would never want to needlessly burden you, but you always welcomed him to share his anxieties. You carrying even just the knowledge of that weight made his immense stress seem more bearable. Of course he wishes he could spend his days with you, and all you need to do is call and he will come, but even with how blatantly romantic the two of you are with each other he continually holds off making the relationship truly official.

Because, frankly, you’re not part of the mafia, and it is a life he never wants to subject you to. He’ll use his power and authority within the mafia to protect you, of course, but getting you seriously involved with him…it’s like painting a target right on your back. If he made a powerful enemy in Passione’s boss, and he ever learned about you…he can’t even imagine what awful things might happen to you in an attempt to send him a message to those who defy the boss.

He’s practically a husband to you already; devoted to you no matter how long you’re apart, always willing to take care of your needs…he has many responsibilities, and he is loyal to those under his care, but if you need him he will do most anything to help you.

At this point you’ve probably resigned yourself to the fact that Bruno would never build a real life with you. He was never going to marry you. He would never even officially start dating you…that was just how it had to be.

He will always have a place in your home and heart. You could be satisfied only seeing him once every few months. Could handle keeping your love for him secret, the darkness of your bedroom being the only witness to the true intensity of your love and passion for each other.

But you want his wedding ring on your finger. You know he’s your one and only, but you secretly longed for the physical evidence of his commitment to you. You wish you could share a home with him, share your life with him, and build a real future with him by your side.

You never had to hide how you felt from him. He didn’t ever raise his voice or get frustrated at you, because you weren’t like his brats who needed a firm hand and tough love. You knew better than to act or speak without thinking.

-

Your head was in his lap, the two of you curled up on your bed, and he’s gently tracing his fingers along your arms and back while you simply enjoy each other’s presence after months apart.

“I wish you could stay…” you muttered, reaching up your hand and touching his cheek. You can’t see the details of his face through the darkness, but you can feel how his expression softens at your quiet plea.

Soon you feel the pads of his fingers lovingly pressed against your cheek. He traces your cheek so gently. He’s telling you he wishes he could stay too. “I will do whatever I can for you,” is how he says it, kissing the palm of your hand on his cheek. This is how Bruno showed his love. Through his protection, his unwavering devotion…anything he could give you, he would, but please…don’t beg for him. He simply cannot risk putting you even remotely in harm’s way. It is not a gamble he is willing to take.

But rest at ease knowing he will always love you, you are the one he dreams of when you’re apart, and yours is the name engraved on his very soul, and it makes him the happiest man in the world.

He knows it’s unconventional, but he will always appreciate your endless patience with him.

It might drive his team a little crazy though, knowing the man they all look up to is holding himself back from someone who makes him the happiest they’ve ever seen him.

[callsign-rogueone]

assessments

Aaric Graycastle x reader part two of Aaric and Sunny's story words: 1.7k 🏷: set during Iron Flame but no real spoilers. canon-typical sparring. very vague mentions of injury (a bruise and a bandage.) more of Sunny's backstory perhaps.. I promise these titles will start getting more creative after this. this one's technically a double meaning -- assessment day for Emeterrio's class, and our bbs slowly starting to figure each other out.

You consider yourself excellent at reading people, a skill you’d honed in your years of working in a tavern in Calldyr city. It made long shifts more bearable, and earned you better tips — you knew exactly how to talk to each kind of person who walked in, what to do and say to make them like you, to think you were just like them.

All you need to do is look at someone for a minute, watch them and listen to them speak, and you can gather everything you need to know about them -- where they’re from, and what their deal is.

It didn’t take long for you to figure out your entire squad.

Rhiannon, the squad leader, is the responsible, motherly one, but she’s still fierce, and has something to prove. She wants your squad to be the best it can be, and has her sights set on being a wingleader next year. 

Ridoc is the class clown who is almost never serious, but cares for his friends deeply and won’t hesitate to fight for them. He’s smarter than he lets on, and a good fighter, even though he’s smaller than some of the other guys — which isn’t saying much, because they’re all giant — but maybe you could learn a thing or two from watching him.

Sawyer, Rhiannon’s second in command and Ridoc’s best friend, who balances him out with logic and restraint, but is definitely still frequently dragged into his shenanigans — though he takes his role seriously, feeling the need to prove himself to the world.

Violet, the daughter of two generals, who was expected to follow in their footsteps despite her medical condition, incredibly smart and observant, and not to be underestimated despite her small stature. 

Sloane, who was forced to be here because of the Treaty of Aretia, as her parents were accused of treason, holds a grudge against Violet for her unclear role in the death of her brother, but seems to respect Imogen enough not to kill the girl.

Imogen, the unaffected cool-girl, was also forced to be here, but she seems to have taken it in stride. She’s clearly not afraid of anything — not to stand out, with her pastel pink hair, nor to provoke anyone, being a skilled fighter both with words and hand-to-hand.

Nadine fits into a similar category with her dark purple hair and her unrestrained laughter. She seems less serious than the others, not at all worried, but it remains unclear if that’s because she’s overconfident or underestimating the challenges that second year will bring her.

…. and then there’s Aaric. You find yourself watching him for confirmation of what you’re supposed to be doing, but also out of sheer curiosity, because you just can’t figure him out. He doesn’t fit in any box you’d sorted the others into. He’s quiet, but not because he’s shy like Sawyer. Serious, but not the rigid soldier that Dain is. There’s just something about him that you just can’t put a name to, some quality you can’t quite describe.

He doesn’t look tired at breakfast, so he’d probably heeded the wingleader’s advice to sleep early — and he must not have stayed awake all night worrying about being killed.

You’d tossed and turned, but you’d been comforted by the theoretical safety of your top bunk, a good five feet above anyone, in a corner where you can see the whole room, and your two knives — one under your pillow, one clutched in your hand like a child would a stuffed animal. 

You wear one on each hip now, tucked into the belt loops of your pants. You should really get one of those leather rigs that the second-years have to hold them in a better position. They look much more secure, and more comfortable. Maybe you can invest your last bit of coin in a card game and make enough to buy one in town. Or maybe they’re issued to everyone later in the year — most of the older cadets have something similar.

You’d been one of the first ones awake, re-wrapping your bandage and changing clothes quietly, brushing your teeth before everyone else woke up and wanted to use the bathroom.

You learn these things quickly when you live with half a dozen other girls. 

Sloane had been slower to get ready, but you’d waited for her, lingering by your bunk and giving her a nervous half-smile — silently asking if she wanted to walk together. She’d agreed, falling into step beside you out to the morning formation.

It’s easy to spot where you’re supposed to be — look for the pink, purple, and silver heads. 

Imogen looks relieved to see Sloane in one piece — then she turns to you, looking unamused. “What are you so happy about?” she asks, raising a dark eyebrow. 

You know they won’t really understand, but you tell them anyway. “I woke up this morning in a bed of my own, looking at a roof over my head, with clothes on my back that I didn’t have to steal.”

Both of them soften, realizing just how differently you’d grown up. Their childhoods and teenage years may not have been the happiest, but they were safe, and didn’t have to worry about where their next meal would come from or where they’d sleep that night.

Aaric hadn’t realized that the service could be an escape for some people, rather than a death sentence or an act of patriotism or a moral obligation. Whatever you’d faced in the city had outweighed the possibility of dying in battle — despite being incredibly underprepared, you’re the one of the three of them that wants to be there the most. 

He has several questions, none of which he can ask without giving away his little ruse — and it’s been less than twenty-four hours since you’d all crossed the parapet. But still, he wonders about you. What’s your story? Where had you lived in Calldyr City? How many miles from the castle? Had your paths ever crossed? 

For a moment, anger roils through him. He’s aware of the disparities within his father’s kingdom, the way the other half — the other nine tenths, more like — lives, but to hear you speak of it so candidly… it’s clear you’ve never known anything other than struggling to make ends meet. 

Just another item on the laundry list of issues that your dear king is so content to ignore.

“I’m sorry,” he says finally, as if he is at fault for your situation, as if he had been the one to deal you those cards — but is he not implicated in your suffering? He’s certainly complicit, passive, letting it happen.

Not that his father would listen to him if he asked him to do anything about it.

You give him a reassuring smile — you know from experience that talking about your life tends to make people uncomfortable. “Don’t be. I feel richer than the king.”

That makes him feel worse, actually.

-----------------------------------------------------------

“Bell, and Hannigan,” the professor calls, already looking and sounding bored. If everyone in the quadrant has to do one this week, that must be at least two hundred. You wonder how many have already occurred, and how many more he has to go. 

And what are they going to do with this information? Rank you somehow, for sure. Maybe they’ll split you into groups based on skill level? No, they probably aren’t that nice. Everyone has made it sound like it’s kill-or-be-killed here, literally. They probably aren’t offering any remedial courses.

You recognize the other first-year girl. She was one of the few who were up and moving before the wake-up call.

You give a nervous smile as you step onto the mat. She doesn’t return it. Either she doesn’t remember you, or she doesn’t want to acknowledge that her bed is less than fifteen feet away from yours.

Maybe this place is just like Calldyr city. The school may as well be a city of its own, with its size and population, and the way nobody here seems to care about each other, or be friendly at all — friendliness and trust would get you robbed in the nicer parts of the city, or maybe even killed in the “bad parts”, but you’d survived there your whole life.

You’ll have to do the cold-and-distant thing, you suppose. It would be nice to have friends, a group of people you can trust like Violet does, but you’ve done everything for yourself for years. You can keep doing that.

She isn’t too much bigger than you, but she looks like she knows what she’s doing, and that she’s confident she’ll win. She should be — you haven’t had anyone to practice with, lest it give away your plans. All you know is what you’ve seen from watching the drunks in the slums swing at each other, and they’re not very good examples. 

She lunges quickly, but you slip aside with ease. 

You duck a would-be punch to the jaw, attempting to kick her legs out from underneath her, but her boots are planted to the floor — it only irritates her and probably bruises her left shin.

No time to feel bad about it; she’s pushing forward again. She’s determined, you’ll give her that. 

It becomes clear that your duck-and-dodge strategy is effective in keeping yourself unscathed, but it won’t win you this fight.

You attempt a punch like hers, unsuccessfully; she catches your wrist and uses it to leverage you to the floor, where she presses you into the mat, wrenching one arm behind your back and using her weight to keep you down. You struggle for a moment before realizing she has you pinned too well. “I yield.”

“Hannigan wins,” Emeterrio announces monotonously, writing it down.

She lets go, but doesn’t offer you an apology nor help you up. Cold and distant it is, then — with everybody but your squad, who are supposedly not allowed to hurt you.

You’re three steps away from falling back into your place beside Sloane when you hear a crack and a scream.

Then all hell breaks loose in your corner of the gym.

[bittrlys]

The Dragon Prince season 6 is like watching people write themselves into a corner in real time. Exciting! Massive spoilers ahead, of course.

THE GOOD

Opening on Aaravos crying was a very strong choice, this is the actual 'Mystery of Aaravos' type content I've been waiting for

Terry picking up Viren while they're excited about him being alive is very cute

As ever, Terry being extremely ride or die is 👍

Terry taking care of Claudia was very sweet; Terry cutting Claudia's hair and Claudia's new haircut in general. Cute.

Viren and Claudia on the beach, "No parent wants their child to suffer for them." Oof.

In general, I was quite happy with everything Viren, Claudia, and even Soren, and I actually wrote a note of "i hate soren" at the start because I thought we were gearing up for another season of him just being a bad joke machine with no real character or feelings to speak of. But then they gave him, like, actual pathos! They let him interact with people in a way that feels human! They let him be resentful and complicated! Wow! Magefam is so back baby!

Viren trying to reconcile with Soren and be a better example for Claudia really got to me. His final sacrifice (OMG CRIMINAL BY FIONA APPLE JUST CAME ON SHUFFLE.......WHAT I NEED IS A GOOD DEFENSE CUS I'M FEELING LIKE A CRIMINAL.......AND I NEED TO BE REDEEMED TO THE ONE I'VE SINNED AGAINST.....) is tied so strongly to his children and that feels like a natural place to leave his character. Now, I've been saying forever that he was going to get a redemption via death, and figured Aaravos would be the one pulling the trigger, so none of that surprised me, but I thought the actual execution was generally good. I do have some more negative thoughts but I'll save those for later.

Viren is very good at justifying himself, and I like that you see him falling back into that, at times struggling with it, at times not even catching himself doing it. It feels very real. At the same time, I don't think he's ever seen himself as a hero, so it was interesting to let him go out on such a heroic note.

Viren's kind of abuse-coded (not actually abusive, IMO, but I understand if this makes people uncomfortable in a similar way) act of forcing Lissa to cry into the vial is interesting. It echoes him taking Sarai's last breath.

Him writing out his whole confession on this subject and then burning it because he realized it was only going to do him good was also very nice.

Though I wish Claudia had stuck by her 'I'm going solo' guns a little longer, I still think there's something to how she is so incapable of being alone, of thinking for herself, and desperately seeks direction. She is literally just like her dad, and it makes them both easy targets for Aaravos.

Like, Viren being such a force that Claudia easily followed him, then Claudia being such a force that Soren and Terry both easily followed her, and Aaravos being a supreme force Viren and Claudia both easily follow because at heart, they're more followers than leaders despite the force of their personalities and ambitions -- it's interesting.

Aaravos using Sol Regem to casually destroy a kingdom and kill Viren just as a small step in his plan is pretty fun. We love a grandiose villain!

Looking forward to Claudia and Aaravos. She's in some ways even more unequipped than Viren to handle Aaravos's manipulations, but at the same time, she's a lot more unpredictable than Viren. If this leads up to a confrontation between them, I think that could be really cool.

Aaravos tragic backstory with deleted child was really not on my bingo card at all -- I never thought 'noble revenge' would be his motivation. I like how this parallels him to Viren.

Aaravos crying enough to fill a sea is great imagery

The lore of the startouch elves being actual stars that descend is SO COOL. This is like, the first bit of worldbuilding in this show that's actually seriously impressed me. I love it.

Actual lore as to why humans don't have magic. Well. Not entirely. But it's better than what we had.

I liked Amaya and Janai's wedding looks. Cute.

Janai like Ehe I'll bring out my armies after I get married 😜 is funny. She isn't a very good queen but she is the moment! The gossip blogs would love her.

Ezran eating shit and not having his """diplomacy""" work out. LMAO.

SOL REGEM DOWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

Kinda getting a y'know vibe from Soren and Corvus. I wouldn't mind that. I like that Corvus feels a little more tolerant of Soren than everyone else. It's funny Soren is like finally I'm away from my shit family but his new friends don't seem to care about him at all. Go and be totally free of all this, dude, or get a boyfriend.

Runaan back just when I was starting to think this show really hates gay males.

Rayla correcting her assumption about the sex of the diary's author was cute with the voice over changing. (cont...)

THE BAD

(... cont.) Did unfortunately then make it feel like "Had to be a woman because the author will be pining for a man."

Why is Zym STILL just a dog. Bro. It's like if all through Avatar you had to be aware Appa was going to be king someday. STOP BARKING.

Waiting for the whole cast to become vegetarians and somehow I suspect that will not be happening

When Claudia is listing the spell ingredients she could harvest from that cat thing I was just desperate to have Terry go, "Well, some of those could be ethically harvested, right?"

I find prophecies fairly corny as a writing tool and I get why they're going there -- predicted futures are the source of the anti-human oppression -- but still, I sighed.

Luna Tenebris putting a collar on her pet feels like, weird, right? Right? Right? She's not human and dragons otherwise seem so Respect all magical creatures. (Allegedly.) What is the uneven treatment of animals in this universe.

Naming your episode Red Wedding and I don't see a bloodbath ... oh, come on.

That ramble about ships from Caleb. Shudder.

Jeez, who is Rayla going to save? Her uncle who is an actual character or her backstory parents who are obviously happy and at peace? God forbid one of our main heroes has an actual hard choice to make.

Related: Caleb's 5 second rehab from dark magic.

Making his inner truth being about one other person is ... well ....

Cutting from Viren's rapidly cooling corpse to Lujanne receiving a sensual back massage was certainly a Choice.

Viren missing his wife THIS MUCH when he's barely mentioned her up to now was a little weird. I honestly think they saw the homoerotic interpretations of the very intense dynamics he had with Harrow and Aaravos and have been steadily backpedalling from that. Don't get me wrong, I can believe he loved her and he misses her, but the degree of it feels totally unearned.

I get children's media will have mascots for the children, normally I don't mind them, but dear god this show is hitting critical mass on annoying sidekicks (Zym counts as a very big one and he's already nigh unbearable.)

THE UGLY

I can imagine that the descendants of the human children Leola granted magic to are now able to do magic naturally and this could be the lore behind either Caleb or Ezran's abilities. I actually don't mind this as finally being in-universe explanation for this disparity that isn't just 'they want it more' or whatever, but it doesn't help this show's "Better People Are Born Better" messaging. Now, in that vein ...

King Ezran is a KING. Have we mentioned this? He's a king. He's divinely ordained to be above everyone else. You must show him respect because he's KING. Even Rayla emphasizes what a KING he is. BOW BEFORE HIM.

Ezran's idea of """diplomacy""" is just going "Be nice, please." (Followed by a threat LMAO.) "Go live somewhere else." WHERE. What if they try to occupy territory that isn't theirs? Xadian society seems quite separated and territorial. Ezran doesn't consider this. He doesn't consider anything. He has no actual diplomatic skills because he never offers anything, he just expects people to listen to him because he's KING.

You know in Parasite when they're like Of course the rich people are nice, they can afford to be? When Ezran was going I'm a king and I can choose kindness I was like, You're king because of an accident of your birth, and all your privilege and people looking out for you allows you to operate the way you do.

(Janai having an evil brother who is Not The True Heir To The Throne and Trying To Steal It is just part of the show's overall obsession with this narrative -- see also Viren coming from a less privileged background.)

Of course it's still funny to see Ezran be continuously characterized as So Compassionate, So Loving but when it comes to say, Not burning his own people alive or Extending the hand of kindness to one of his oldest childhood friends or her father, he just turns that shit off. This could be interesting hypocrisy if I thought the show was trying to intentionally paint him this way, instead of just wanting him to not be a total pushover because he's THE KING!!! ALL BOW BEFORE THE KING!!!!

The unbelievable frustration caused by a scene where Claudia is begging to not have to use dark magic -- Terry coming in and saving the day with natural magic -- Claudia staring at the peaceful solution and realizing she needs to change -- BUT IT'S STILL A FUNDAMENTAL DISPARITY IN HOW HUMANS CAN EXIST IN THIS WORLD? Is Claudia supposed to die because dark magic is too wrong to use? Now we have the reveal that humans are being actively denied magic I'm hesitantly hopeful they may get some justice in this regard, but it doesn't change the reality of humans right now. What are humans supposed to do? Rely on others for help? Oh, sure, most of the elves and dragons we meet now are just so nice and helpful to humans, because of the show's 'bad apple' approach to prejudice I've mentioned before, but we know that wasn't always the case.

Like, this actual reminder that the difference in power between a single dragon and a human settlement, and unlike the last time we're on the side of humans this time so you can better appreciate the horror of it ... it's depressing to feel like "Only by grace of your betters do you survive." It's echoes of Janai's 'forgiveness' of the human who put out the fire of that elf who assaulted her. "Aren't you lucky we're so NICE?"

This is all compounded by what I meant at the start of my review, that they've written themselves into a corner, especially wrt dark magic. In universe Soren sees no choice but to ask his father to do dark magic, something all the characters scold each other for constantly. Out of universe, the writers had a huge fuck off dragon come along to commit genocide against the humans and the only realistic solution is .... having Viren do dark magic, something the narrative constantly reinforces as bad. They ultimately frame this act as heroic, and according to a writer (I believe) on the discord, he speaks the spell forward to represent how this act of inherent good overcomes the "inherent evil" of dark magic (quotation marks theirs, interestingly.) I think the writers, for the most part, clearly like Viren and Claudia a lot, and like giving them 'big moments' with dark magic ... but this is part of the reason why the show has continuously reinforced a NEED for dark magic without giving any viable solution for the average human who doesn't have natural magical powers or is friends with dragons and elves like our main heroes. Ultimately, it feels hypocritical of the show to keep going on about the evil of dark magic (now very firmly an addiction metaphor) while having no solution for humans in tricky situations that aren't "magic you and only you can do, for some reason" or "queen dragon who somehow still isn't dead dear god coming to save you" or, y'know, "dark magic." Only one of these is really viable for the average person.

Like, you make it an addiction metaphor, but where's the alternative? Vampires need to drink blood to survive but vampire series often show vampires refusing to drink human blood as an addiction metaphor ... they drink animal blood instead, or something, and you get the metaphor. Right now, in TDP, it's either, do dark magic and suffer, or don't do dark magic and ... suffer more? Okay. I'm not saying life has to be fair or that there isn't value in accepting loss, but when Viren scolds Kpp'Ar for having all his fun with dark magic and then very callously dismissing Viren's fear for his son, I felt that. Viren isn't begging for a beer here. He's begging to save his son. Addiction metaphors need to match the scale and reality of what is being shown to you.

Sorry, I'm now going to harp on more about the Your Betters Are Born Better stuff now because I was actually enjoying (you know, tearfully so) Viren's death until his final lines. WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I GASPED!!!!!!!! HOLD ON!!!!!!!!!!! Like, let me get it out of the way, I get it echoes his last exchange to Harrow and his loyalty to Harrow is tied to his loyalty to Katolis, and they're saying "He was power hungry but now he is acting in a way that is purely, totally selfless for maybe the first time in his life," which is fine. The problem is, I have sat through six seasons of this show kissing royal ass. I have seen Aanya (shudder) mock him for not being a real noble-born ruler. I have seen Ezran's divine authority be reinforced time and again, and seen Viren throw himself submissively before his King to submit to his judgement as King, not as someone he once hurt. I have been reminded time and again that less privileged people who want the power necessary to succeed in a world biased against them are power-hungry lunatics unless they submit themselves enough to the Supreme Order of the world. So to have Viren's last words be him reinforcing that the most heroic thing he can ever be is A LOYAL SERVANT is just ... horrible. If they'd just kept the framing of Viren's death on his love for his family, it would have been way, way better.

Altogether I uh guess the season was mostly fine. They actually did a better job tying disparate narratives together with common themes which I appreciate. I liked the magefam stuff. I hope Soren eventually learns the stuff Viren chose not to tell him. I hope there's realistic forward growth on the attitude towards dark magic and why humans feel they need it, like some acknowledgement that Katolis was only saved because of Viren (make that two nations he has explicitly saved.) Maybe even Ezran can take a break from being unbearably sanctimonious to properly acknowledge his sacrifice. That would be nice!

I really hope humans get some justice for how they've been actively denied a valuable resource. It seems a self-fulfilling prophecy (they punished Leola for giving humans magic, this made Aaravos go darksided, Aaravos gave humans dark magic, humans are very set against the magical community for the way they've been treated so they're more callous about using dark magic) so I hope the ultimate lesson won't be "humans don't deserve this" but "humans only ended up here because they were treated like they don't deserve it, but they do, by right of existing as beings in this world." If Callum (+ Ezran) end the series as the only or some of the only humans with magic powers, I'm going to eat drywall.

[bigassmoonchild]

Happy

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Simon finally comes home, and he meets his two little angels. You’re finally happy, and things seem perfect. A little too perfect.

Content Tags: Comfort, Twins (name reveal), Death, Canonical death, SPOILERS FOR MW3, Family Moments, Good Father Simon, Simon Finally Realizes How to Deal With His Emotions, Mentions of Pumping, More Original Characters (no name mentioned), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, Omega! Reader, No Use of Y/N

A/N: This is the end. Maple Syrup is done, it has been finished. Feel free to keep sending asks about Doc and Simon! I am more than happy to keep answering prompts about their life together and their family <3. It is insane. I am so proud of how far this has come, and I am so happy that you all have enjoyed it. Don’t worry, I have another fic lined up!!

Part 1 | Previous | Headcannons, Masterlist

Price isn’t entirely sure the last time he could smell something like this on Simon. He isn’t entirely sure if he’s ever smelled him like this. Not in the however long he’s known the Lieutenant. There’s words that he should find, something to get his other alpha, his Lieutenant, to feel better, yet there’s nothing. No matter how much he wants to say something, the words are lost to Price.

He knows the feeling coursing through Simon. Price himself missed his middle pups birth, and yet this all feels different.t He isn’t even sure there are words to convey what he wants to say, if he could just transmit the feeling he needs to he would. But he can’t do that, that just isn’t a thing that’s possible. Maybe in the far, far future but right now? All he needs to find are the words to help make his other Alpha hurt just a little less.

The tangy scent that fills the air of the heli almost burns his nose. It’s not something he’s ever smelled before, not on Simon. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley didn’t smell hurt, or sad. Hell, he never even really smelled anguished even when he probably should have. Price knows the pup- the pups- are here, and he knows Simon should be feeling a sense of joy. Excitement, even. But there’s nothing. No joy, no happiness, just fear and a tang of pain.

While Price knows the feeling- he missed his own middle pups birth- he can’t find the words to express to Simon that it’ll all turn out okay. That everything will be figured out, that you won’t just abandon him. Simon isn’t a bad Alpha, he might be rough around the edges but he truly does mean well. Maybe his words were a little harsh, maybe his tone wasn’t always what he wanted to convey, but Simon never meant real harm to those on his side.

The sounds of shrieking, wails and snarls coming from the other end of the phone almost haunted Price. He’d never heard his own Omega, the perfect parent to their pups, scream in such a way. Maybe it was just because it hurt, maybe because you had to push two pups out of you, but maybe it was because it was so unexpected. His omega had gone to a few classes to prepare for it all.

Christ. You’d had two pups, and Simon wasn’t there to help at all. Your own pack, the one you were born in, wasn’t even there to help you with this moment. Price knew that there was very little anyone could do to fix this, but by all the gods who knew of the green Earth he wanted to find a way.

While your relationship with Simon had definitely been through worse, he knew that it was torment. Price had been given the opportunity to slowly court his own omega, make them fall in love with him each time that they were together. He knew what it took to get an omega, at least his own, to fall in love. But neither of you were given that chance. You were just some Doctor that had been assigned to their base, just a Doctor who was sent out by your own leaders and Captains to figure out what was happening.

You were just a Doctor, tossed into a world of hurt all because of Simon. And Simon wasn’t sure if he could forgive himself for any of it. You were alone, to care for two newly born pups, all alone to give birth to them. He’d heard you snarl at one of the doctors who had come in. Just Price’s Omega was allowed in, they were the only person who was allowed near you.

Simon shouldn’t have just ran off to the mission without at least having gone and seen you first. Maybe then, just maybe, he would have had the balls to stay behind and try and fix his mistakes. Maybe then, you wouldn’t have been left alone to birth your children. God, he felt so fucking stupid. He’d missed the birth of his pups.

Maybe, hopefully, you’d forgive him. You had before, so hopefully this wouldn’t be that much different. He had to stop doing this, stop making these situations occur where he hurt you so much and had to hope to whatever god would listen that you would accept him back into your arms. He could see Price, Gaz and Soap glancing at him every now and again. Soaps nose was scrunched up, his eyes slightly narrowed while looking at him.

“You alright, L.T.?” Soap asked in the silent helo. The tension was so strong Simon thought he could cut it in half. His eyes slowly moved from staring out of the window to looking right at him. Soaps eyes didn’t move, matching his stare.

Swallowing thickly, Simon broke eye contact. “Worried, s’all,” he responded, voice slightly hoarse. A hum came from Soap, and he watched him turn to look back away where he’d been prior to it. No one else spoke for the remainder of the flight back, and Simon found himself glancing back out the window he was near and watching the ground pass by quickly.

Sometimes he wondered what other people were up to, how simple their lives might be. How they might be having a nice dinner with their pack, watching as their pups grow up with ease. He felt a pang deep in his chest, and he almost felt his eyes burn for a moment. He craved such normalcy. He wanted to curl up in your nest next to you, hold you close as you slept against him.

Take care of his pups and help you out after the birth. He barely noticed the helo land and was half conscious as he walked into the compound. People were glancing at him, their eyes following him as he walked. Simon barely noticed, though, and he felt as though he had tunnel vision on his walk to your shared room.

From a few halls down, he could smell something. It was sweet, mixed in with your own scent. Milky, almost, and slightly powdery. He swallowed thickly, as just another hall down he could hear shuffling coming from your shared room. Christ, when had his hearing become so sensitive? He heard you humming faintly, some cooing and whining from two other sources.

And he opened the door, sliding the key out of the lock as he walked in. Your eyes found him, widening just a little and the faintest scent of fear coursed through your scent. Two wails suddenly screeched through the room, your eyes darting back to the closet nest and you moved without hesitation. He heard little purrs and coos coming from you, the wails slowly dying down into soft whimpers.

His heart shatters into pieces. He feels a pain he hadn’t thought possible, the thoughts whirling through his head. His pups don’t know him, they hate him and he can’t be here. Simons muscles are tensed, ready to make a run for it. He can almost feel tears pooling in his eyes, his throat closing up as a small whine comes from deep within him.

There’s nothing he can do. Absolutely nothing. He wasn’t here when they came into this Earth, he wouldn’t be here when they left. And he hated himself so deeply. But the purrs that you gave, little coos bringing him from his thoughts. His head almost cleared, listening to you whisper soothing words to the little things. God, they’d be tiny. They had to only be a few days or weeks old at this point, but everything felt like it had ground to a halt when he’d heard you were in labor.

And he shouldn’t he absolutely should leave until he can talk to you alone but he can’t. He can’t run away again when things get difficult, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to leave you. He had to make things right, but he wasn’t sure how.

Simon didn’t feel like he could move. He slid his boots off, sliding them in their spot in the corner. He moved slowly, cautiously as he inched closer to the closet. He was barely peeking around the corner when you spun and growled at him. Growled. Deeply, from so far in your chest he hadn’t thought an Omega could make that noise.

Your eyes had shifted from being you, shifting into a deeper and more primal look. They softened, slowly, as your snarl faded carefully. You had remained crouched next to the two pups, your hands still gently laid on each of them.

When you growled, you could smell fear coming from Simon. You aren’t entirely sure if that’s what pulled you out of this weird and deeply defensive spot. The father of your pups, your Alpha was standing above you and looking down at you with wide eyes. You watched as he carefully slid the balaclava off, his eyes dropping down to take a look at your pups. You shifted a little, no longer crouching down in front of them.

His eyes became softer, his brows no longer furrowed so deep into his eyes that he almost looked awed. You knew they had his eyes, although a little lighter because of how young they were. They looked so similar, although your little Lily had more of your features than her fathers. Finley, on the other hand, had his stronger features but he had your hair. Maybe he had your nose, but you were partial to your pups.

You said nothing as you handed one of them to their father. Lily shifted, her nose scrunching up as she inhaled his scent up close but it slowly disappeared as she became comfortable. Her little hand grabbed at his shirt, and one of his hands moved to stroke against her hair. He held her closer to him, and you could see his nose twitch a little as he inhaled her scent.

“I want to retire,” he whispered, not looking away from the little pup in your arms. You could feel your heart stop, your eyes almost welling with tears as the realization slowly sunk in. Your pups would have their father, and you would have your alpha.

“Do you know their names?” You whispered softly, watching as he looked up at you. He shook his head and you gave him a weak smile. You still hurt, not just physically, but emotionally. He had abandoned you. And yet he was here now, holding Lily in his arm and his eyes felt so gentle while he looked at you. “You’re holding Lily,” and he nodded, his nose twitching a little bit. “Finley is down here,”

“How do you differentiate them?” You gave a little laugh, picking up Finley and letting Simon grab onto the two of them. Your big, scary looking alpha was standing there with his head ducked down looking at his pups. He seemed so gentle, his jaw was relaxed and his brows weren’t furrowed. He seemed almost happy.

You glanced away from the three of them, swallowing thickly. “Lily’s scent is a little stronger, kind of like yours. Finley isn’t as shifty and he’s a little quieter. Mostly it’s just their scent, though, but also. Other things,” you glanced away and heard Simon laugh from deep in his chest. His eyes were scrunched up, and his head was tossed back.

Genuinely, you don’t remember if you’d ever seen him laugh as hard as that. You’re not sure that you have, and it made you feel warm. Your chest hurt, but in a good way this time. You could feel your cheeks aching from the smile you had on your face, watching your little pack enjoy themselves.

For some time, the two of your stood there basking in the little family you had. Simon finally sat himself in your nest, and you showed him how to change their diapers. The two of you sat there for what felt like minutes, but had to be hours. He helped you to the toilet when the pain relievers finally stopped working as well, helping to prepare your new pad and helping you get back up.

The first night you were able to spend with him, you hadn’t woken up once. You’d stashed away some pumped milk in a little mini fridge they’d let you keep in the room just for this, and when you woke up and added some more that you’d packaged you noticed a few missing. You smiled a little, glancing at him snoring away in the bed you shared.

It didn’t take long for his retirement to become official. The two of you found a little place not too far from the compound, and he’d gotten a new job. It was pretty decent, but he also received an alright amount of money from the government for his service. You were still working in the medical field, but you found yourself leaning more towards finding an office job, one where you could actually have decent hours to be able to help care for the pups.

Raising two pups at once was difficult. Sure, Simon helped when and where he could, but it was just difficult in general. When one pup wasn’t crying, it was the other. When one needed a diaper change, the other suddenly needed one as well. You were just happy to have your mate and your pups healthy, happy and not at risk to die.

Until Simon got a phone call.

“They think Makarov survived,” he whispered to you in bed after you came back from finishing your pumping. You could feel your blood run cold, and you turned over to look at him.

“What?”

He sighed deeply, shifting his head to look at you. “They have some,” he paused and swallowed. “Evidence. They think he’s still alive, and we need to find him. Kill him,” and your heart was suddenly pounding.

“We?”

You watched as his eyes closed, his scent changing to one that confused you. “They need me to help them,” he whispered, his hand finding yours carefully. He squeezed it, and you squeezed back. You sighed deeply, closing your eyes and feeling your heart begin to slow down.

Opening your eyes, you looked carefully at Simon. Even in the dark, you could see his brow furrowed. “I’m coming with,” you whispered. He sat up straight, elbow locked as he held himself up.

“Absolutely not,” his voice was stern, almost a growl. “You will not be going anywhere near this mission,”

You scoffed, rolling back over onto your back. Your eyes gazed across the dark ceiling. “I’m coming with you,” you whispered once more. Simon shook his head, his free hand sliding across his face.

It was a week long argument. Tempers were short, and things weren’t very happy within the house. The two of you still worked together with the pups, but it was silent. He still took care of the pups at night, even though he was sleeping in your guest bedroom. You stayed quiet, listening faintly in on his phone calls. He was trying to stay quiet, you could tell.

It was mostly arguing, at least from his end. Anger about not wanting you to go with, and whoever he was talking with appeared to be arguing for your help. He was always a little angrier after finishing the call, but he stowed away with the pups while they took their naps and seemed to just stew with the thoughts for a while.

After a week, probably just a little longer, he finally came up to you with his head down. He wasn’t making eye contact, but his brows were still furrowed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a moment. You nodded, continuing to package the breastmilk you’d just finished pumping. “Price wants you to join, he’s worried there might be issues with medical care while we’re on the mission,” you nodded again but paused after finally registering what he was saying.

“Price said what?”

And the mission was horrible. Absolutely horrible.

The only part you truly remember about it was watching as Soap took a gunshot to the head. You watched the blood pour out of him, heard the shouts and ensuing chaos.

Makarov got away. You did what you could, but at the end of the day you had no way of saving Soap. Simon had grown silent, and the return to the compound was horrible. Price’s omega was taking care of the pups, as their own were almost finished with their last years of school. And you left the 141 alone as they spread his ashes, holding Simon close as he sobbed into your body.

His grip on you those next few weeks were incredibly strong, his arms not letting you out of bed when you needed to use the bathroom, and he was just a little withdrawn for some time.

You named your next pup after Soap. And Simon slowly grew better about the passing, the 141 was often around to see their pack-pups. Everything felt wrong without Johnny, though. No longer just Soap, it was Johnny. Even your youngest had become Johnny, and Simon was able to keep himself from being especially partial to the young one.

They grew up so fast, but it took so long. And maybe it should have felt good, but Christ were they some difficult pups at times. Lily had her first rut, as did Finley. Johnny hadn’t yet presented, so you were just assuming he was a Beta until he would present. Maybe he wouldn’t, but you loved your little pups more than you had ever thought possible.

It wasn’t all too bad. The 141 stuck around, and you found yourselves living in the same neighborhood as the other two. Gaz had found himself a mate, and they had a few pups of their own. You helped with the birth of the first, just as Price’s Omega had done for you. They were there as well, and Simon was holding Gaz back even with the shrieks.

Gaz had tried throwing the two of you out of the room, as his omega had ended up in a similar situation to you. In the middle of birth suddenly, and unable to make it to a hospital in time. Lucky bastard, the birth took twenty minutes.

But you were happy. And that’s all that mattered.

TAGLIST (finished for Maple Syrup, please let me know if you’d eventually like to be added to a general Ghost x Reader taglist, or just no longer be tagged 🫶)

Some tags are not accepted, as it won’t show your blogs when i’m tagging. i’m so sorry!!

@sae1kie @shinebright2000 @zechie-spams @itsmadamehydra @smiley-roos @enrapturedbythemoon @stargatenovus @cowboydisaster @josieguts @the-queen-of-england183 @littlelovebug98 @cringeycookies @averytiredfanfictionwriter @kariiiel @http-paprika @snorklingfae @lukneetoonz @wise-owl @waves-against-a-cliff @megkviss @ducks118 @404lunar @zoom-zoom77 @hollowmasque @bootabo2000 @ducks118 @bunnyvs @perfectus-in-morte @itsmytimetoodream @the-occasional-artist1125 @lunamoonbby @ghostslittlegf @teddywebby @astro-ghoul99 @vicky-09 @batmanunicorns523 @xuanzhe @tsugikatsuhowl

[ghoastixx]

Hi! This is actually my first time requesting anything, so I hope I'm doing it right! If you're willing, would you write a part 2 to your Parental!Tord x Reader? Or perhaps another story, drabble, hcs, etc. of him being a parental figure towards the reader? I'm absolutely eating it up!!

This is the story I'm referencing btw: https://www.tumblr.com/ghoastixx/746478853832261632/platonic-tord-x-gn-teen-reader?source=share

Have a good day!! Drink water and eat something nice! I LOVE your stories! ❤️

Parental Tord hcs

I know in my first story he was sweet, but let's be honest he's a bastard

loves being a dad, he just has no idea how.

If you were originally one of his soldiers, he will likely be more cocky and about the same as if he had been your sergeant. He likes to be able to tell you what to do.

If you were just some kid he picked off the street (Likely had known you when he was a teenager) he's nicer.

He would want to keep you in the dark about the red army for as long as possible, but the second he leaves and you say you want to go with him? You're in the car preparing to be apart of the army.

Red army leader told would never let you fight, no. if you already got close enough to be considered his "kid" means you're precious. he won't let you get hurt.

He would let you sit in on meetings, in fact he would love for you to take notes. He wants the army to be left to you, after all.

he's a stickler for rules when it comes to you.

who cares if you're older than fifteen, it's bedtime.

He's normally not emotionally available, but it you guys get CLOSE.. hell he'll try his best..

[feathered-mushrooms]

I like creative mind projects. This became one of them.

Alright let’s set the basics of this ‘show’. The Xavier Institute, situated in Salem, Westchester, is run by Charles Xavier. A professor, doctor, and world renowned author and scientist. However he possesses a secret, a discovery he made on his travels abroad: mutants. He has returned home and opened a school for those said mutants, and we follow his ‘first class’.

Our main characters, at least for season one, would be the og five. Scott, Jean, Warren, Bobby, and Hank. And guess what? The school actually is a school. They take classes taught by Charles, and do superhero stuff on the side. Here is their everyday clothes:

Think the vibes of X-men Evolution. The show would focus on the dual life of the kids, but would also focus on them being kids. The trouble they get into, the antics they get up to. The drama that comes with being a teenager. Additional clothes(on colder days)

So what is everyone’s backstory?

Scott Summers Scott has a very similar life to the one we know. Parents dead in a plane ‘accident’ and him being separated from his brother in the foster care system. He goes from house to house until his mutation manifests. In which he is thrown into a few bad situations regarding his foster parent using him for his powers, before being found by Charles. Scott was the first student to live on campus, but by far not the first student, however he sees Scott as a father(even if Charles doesn’t see him as his son). He is a mix of the cautious and rather reserved. He’s malnourished body earned him the nickname Slim, but don’t let the meek act fool you. He is sarcastic as you could imagine and has a very strong moral code. He will make a good leader.

Jean Grey Jean’s telekinesis came to her when she was young. Charles has been a constant figure in her life since then, almost taking on what she might call an ‘uncle’ role. He has been working with her for years, and was the first to know when her telepathy manifested, at the death of her best friend. To Charles, she was his first student, and the closest thing he feels he has to a kid. She joins the team last, the premier episode being about her moving into the mansion. She is feisty and spirited. The most reckless of the five, but also oddly balanced in responsibly. She knows she’s powerful and she fears it.

Warren Worthington III Warren’s wings did not grow in until he was away at boarding school. Lucky for him, he could hide them well at first by dropping all the sports he played. Warren used to play the part of an upstuck rich kid very well, but that never was him. When his wings fully came in, he spent the nights saving people from muggers and robbers. He realized it felt good to do something his parents would never do. When Charles offered him a place at the school he toke it, and has been learning to move past his rich ego, however some habits are hard to break. Warren still loves posh language and loves the fact that he is the richest among his friends, but also has a genuine want to help others.

Bobby Drake Bobby always knew he was different. He was gay. Something he found very hard to hide. That was until he found out he was a mutant, something he could hide behind. Bobby’s manifestion consisted of him freezing his entire room and himself, in a very Elsa manner. His parents were outraged, which caused Bobby to realize he could never come out to his parents. Charles came and wiped his parents mind, making everything easier, but Bobby still has the secret he has told no one. A secret he still hasn’t fully realized himself. Bobby hides his self loathing and anxieties behind bad jokes that he hops will be funny. As the youngest on the team, he often deals with the need to prove himself.

Hank McCoy Hank was good at hiding. His physical mutation made him very ape like in appearance, but if he stood the right way, played his card rights, and knew the right people, he could make everyone look past it. He was a genius, but hid behind a football jock exterior, an explanation for his body that made people look past him. Hank joined the school under the belief that he would not need to pretend anymore, and so he let go of his football alter ego. He prefers his academic side and is interested in pursuing the world of knowledge. He has a very academic way of speaking, but oddly really understands human emotion. He pushes himself hard and loves any and every form of learning.

In this show, the X-men was created by Charles as a way to get the public ready for the announcement of mutants, but they become so much more. Charles originally thinks that if the public can see super-powered people helping the world, they will be less likely to attack those people. He designs his perfect team, and even designs their suits.

The team….likes them….kinda

Within the first season, mutants would be exposed to the public and the X-men’s fight focus on the fight of oppression and proving they can be good. Teased in the final moments of season one, Scott will reveal the x-costumes he has designed for everyone. These would be the suits worn from then on forward, representing a switch from being Xavier’s X-men to the X-men that fight for mutant kind.

Additionally we would have lots of very weird love triangles!! Hank is not apart of it, because he very easily finds Vera who becomes his girlfriend. Bobby has a crush on Scott however. He plans to go to the grave with this fact. Warren and Scott both like Jean. Maybe they like each other….who knows? Jean on the other hand has no care in the world for romance at the moment and misses every interaction.

Some of the prominent names that would show up in the first season is of course Magneto. Magneto would be the battle for the first episode, and then there for the reveal of mutants, and then the final battle. He is the big overarching ‘villian’. Other villains would consist of classic 60’s villains such as Vanisher and the rest of the brotherhood. However Scarlet Witch and QuickSilver would not appear till season 2.

Additionally Xavier has a divorcee(that’s not Erik shocker) that is Moria McTaggert. I love the idea of them being bitter exes that have tea with each other and talk shit. Moria is mainly a doctor in Scotland, but would make appearances when one of the kids get to injured. Additionally she has ties to the CIA and aides Charles that way.

Some Pjs and fancy references

Nonetheless, let me know if you want more. I have lots of ideas regarding this and would love to drill on and on again