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serpentface · 1 month ago

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What's the Wardi cultural take on Akoshos sleeping with/partnering with/marrying other Akoshos?

It's not highly regulated to a degree that there are overwhelming cultural norms about it. There's a lot of societal focus on akoshos being theoretically suitable sexual partners for both men and women due to being dual-gendered, but not to an extent that relationships with One Another are stigmatized.

They also largely get to escape from the most severe concerns about penetrator/penetrated power dynamics because they're not regarded as Men (they're regarded as dual-gendered, and they're a female social class on every practical level), there's no status of manhood to Lose by receiving sexual penetration. The only real thing you see in that department is people assuming that one acts as 'the man' and one acts as 'the woman', but this is largely due to preoccupation with a notion of sex being Penetration With A Penis (and that Penetration With A Penis means that one person is in a Man's Role and one person is in a Woman's Role). But this will not be regarded as unnatural as in same-gender male relations, akoshos will Have to take up a position in this sexual dichotomy if they want to have Real Sex (Penetration With A Penis) with each other, and this is not unnatural and doesn't involve gaining or losing status since they are simultaneously male and female, not men.

So like you might see individual culture critics finding stuff to nitpick about it as their annoyance of the week or a singular Guy here or there who thinks it's weird, but this isn't a widespread norm. The vast majority of people don't give a shit about akoshos having sex with each other. The worst thing you're likely to experience Solely by virtue of being in an akoshos-akoshos relationship is someone asking you (probably with genuine curiosity) which one does the man stuff and which one does the woman stuff.

Akoshos also don't experience Hard expectations for marriage (though there are societal pressures that make marriage an attractive safety net all the same, ESPECIALLY marriage to a man) so unofficial life-partnerships between akoshos are pretty much the Only same gender partnerships between unwed people that are going to go unquestioned. ((Sworn brotherhood is technically a same gender life partnership for men that is Functionally similar to marriage (in that it's a kin-making practice between unrelated adults), but the tradition is Built upon the assumption that both parties will be married to women and that a primary goal of this kinship is to provide security for both parties' wives and children)). Marriage obligations in general are more lax in the economically secure but not Wealthy lower mercantile classes (as obligations to support and perpetuate one's family are universal, but these obligations can be filled simply by having at least One son who can get hitched, and marriages in the lower classes have no political functions and therefore there's less reason to ensure All your children are wed (there's still incentives like dowry, but this is not desperately needed when a family is economically secure)). So akoshos in this class group tend to have a Lot more freedom in terms of their life arrangements and chosen partners (though still experience the limiting frameworks of structural misogyny in other capacities).

The only thing that is out of the picture is akoshos/akoshos marriage. Marriage in this society has a predominantly reproductive function, the concept of reproductively non-viable marriages is generally considered absurd. This is not JUST this culture's form of homophobia, as marriage is a very practical arrangement at its core - both in a reproductive capacity and as bedrock for the patriarchal blood-kinship family system that forms the core social unit. The idea of same gender marriage isn't just absurd because 'ewwww weird' it's like, that Cannot work within this system, it Cannot fill core functions of what a marriage intends to do here, the ways on which marriage and kinship are BUILT makes same gender marriage practically (rather than just socially) untenable.

The sole exception to the 'marriage = reproductively viable" rule is that akoshos can be married to men (which in practice is almost always as a remarriage after a man has secured At Least an heir). This has a Little bit of internal logic here in that they perform predominantly female social roles (thus are suited to being a wife, even if they can't bear children) (and also on practical levels of them having the same legal status as women) but it's really more of a 'this is just how it's always been' kind of thing. A lot of the older pre-Wardi identity dual-gender roles that got mashed together under the 'akoshos' name would have involved marriage to a man as a second wife/concubine, in addition to his primary wife who would bear his children. Men potentially having multiple spouses has not been retained as a cultural practice, but the notion that an akoshos Can be a wife to a man has survived into modern day legal and doctrinal practices around marriage.

So like this being said, marriage as it is legally defined is only between a man and a woman, a man and an akoshos, or a woman and an akoshos. In practice the latter two are comparatively VERY rare- a man/akoshos marriage cannot provide children (though an akoshos can practically fulfill all other obligations and duties of a wife), a woman/akoshos marriage Can provide children (and while akoshos cannot function as a male heir, these children Will take their akoshos-parent's family name (though the wife retains her father's family name)), but akoshos are legally grouped with women in terms of rights and privileges (including being permanently under legal domain of their father unless they have been legally handed off to a male husband) and Cannot provide hard power patriarchal support that this family system is built upon and therefore depends upon, which makes these marriages socio-economically insecure. They can obviously still be a good partner and parent, but this is not the same as having the Legal hard power of a patriarch.

Akoshos marrying each other would be reproductively and socially nonviable, and is treated as a similarly absurd concept to a man marrying a man or a woman marrying a woman. It's just not a part of the marriage and kinship framework, it's not a thing that you can Do.

#Akoshos are also probably like.... 1-2% of the population. Like its an Accepted gendered space but not a large one so it's less #'managed' in a lot of senses #It's actually kind of hard to 'access' the akoshos space to begin with. Like parents look for Signs In Early Childhood and most #akoshos are typically assigned their gender early.#If you don't manage to access this space there's a good chance of being Stuck as a man with any deviance from your expected #gender roles being the HIGHLY unaccepted 'male effeminacy' which is a VERY different concept than (though obviously has tensions With)#being akoshos. A lot of akoshos self-label as adults after losing support from their families in part for being '''effeminate men'''#(this is also kind of the only instance in which gender self-identification occurs on a basis that will be Broadly accepted. Though #this happens in the context of already being detached from one's familial support network and people not knowing you self-assigned)#There are also certainly Some cases where akoshos self-identify as adults and this is accepted by their fathers. For a variety #of reasons but unfortunately often it's going to be like-#'we must have missed something but whatever. glad our kid is actually supposed to be this way and isn't just effeminate'#Also much less likely to be accepted if they're an expected male heir without brothers to take up the role in their stead #And VERY unlikely in upper classes where family members are public figures. If you've been introduced as a man here you're probably #out of luck.#(Like you'll see accusations that adult-assigned akoshos are just pretending in order to disguise being male effeminates)#This position isn't freedom from gender norms or like. The equivalent of an accepted trans identity. It's its own assigned gender #space in an Expanded but strict binary with expanded but strict roles #Also the societal trends over centuries are showing signs of increasing collapse between the notions of 'effeminate man' (bad)#and 'akoshos' (normal). At this point the concepts are still very separate but the current societal trajectory is leaning towards the #akoshos role being phased out of its normalization (in tandem with Wardi culture becoming more intensely patriarchal with #the collapse of Wardi groups into one identity)#Like 600 years ago there was NOT a concept of 'effeminate man' and proto-akoshos roles were a #more central concept that enveloped divergences from expected masculinity. Whereas now the akoshos space is significantly narrower #and the concept of 'effeminate man' exists in tandem as a stigmatized descriptor. And things have gotten to the point of #people claiming that ''effeminate men'' will 'pretend' to be akoshos #The akoshos identity becoming stigmatized/phased out isn't inevitable but the tensions around it are definitely growing #Though there's also a sense that Peak Patriarchy has been hit and you're starting to see people pushing back at these norms in fairly #notable ways. There's not going to be like. A feminist revolution but civilian women getting more political freedoms (while the overall #context stays patriarchal) is a likely outcome which could also have side benefits of relaxing masculinity standards Somewhat

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kellylor · 2 years ago

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Three of my grandparents lived to their 90s, and the one who didn’t had a damaged heart due to childhood scarlet fever, spent decades ignoring his doctor’s advice on taking care of said heart, and still made it to his 70s. He was also born in 1893 so you know, he did pretty well as far as the life expectancy of his generation went.

So, I maintain that I won’t be middle-aged until I’m 45, the middle of my own expected lifespan. But 37 is not 27, and last summer I spent a week in Olympic National Park hiking and craning my neck to look up at tall trees, and my neck has just not been the same since then. I don’t think I’m old yet, but…I do not have the joints of a young person anymore, it turns out.

#my grandfather was 18 years older than my grandmother #and she was in her 30s when my dad was born #my mothers parents started having kids at a more typical age but she is the third of four fairly spaced out siblings #and then my parents waited a long time to have kids and then had fertility problems #so I’ve got cousins older than me with a whole generation more in their direct line than me

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corvidiss · 2 months ago

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#smile at people #a majority of the time people will smile back and you win Human Points #learn how to compliment people and do it often #Normalcy is a perspective that changes depending on who is looking but kindness and a positive attitude shows the same view to everyone #basic politeness with a little extra effort is amazingly difficult at times #but it goes MILES

Genuinely good advice from @aroace-get-out-of-my-face

can someone recommend some beginner normal behaviors for someone looking to become normal

#life advice #autistic stuff #and anybody who finds this hard which is pretty much everybody #would also add learning the functions and skills of small talk #yes i know i know it's evil it's horrible when nobody told you how #but get this: it's just social glue #it's the human equivalent of hyenas lowing to each other or crows clicking to each other #it's just “hello i exist you are in my social circle i accept your existence and please know that i don't hate you”#and it's got some fairly basic first-level rules too!! You intiate the greeting (Hello/hi/howdy/good evening/etc depending on context – yea #that dependency can be a bit trickier to learn but if you think of social structure it helps; e.g. this human supposedly ranks higher than #me and has not spoken to me before so i need to say “hello” instead of ��wassup”)#and then you say “how are you?” or the less formal “how's it going?” (meaning: *I am initiating small talk*) and they will say “I'm alright #you?” (meaning: *I accept your move to small talk and value your input*) and you say “I'm okay” (NOT meaning: I am actually okay – but #rather *I appreciate your acceptance of my move to small talk and respect you so I will complete this ritual*)#in some cases people will go into a bit more detail – typically in response to “How's it going?” or “How've you been?” rather than “How are #you?” (in less formal contexts e.g. between friends) – and say something like #“Yeah I'm doing alright; had a lot of stuff on this week so I'm looking forward to a break!” and this is where you employ your Sympathetic #Vocalisation (“mm yeah” (solemn. nod head towards them at medium speed a couple of times)#BUT. you do not dwell on this. they will probably ask you “what about you?” afterwards and here you say something like “I'm good; I've got #some pasta I'm looking forward to eating tonight” (or any other bland mundane thing about your life. note: you CAN lie. not extravagantly #but you can say “Yeah I'm great; been busy too but gotta stay on your toes eh?” when you actually want to collapse right now #generally people react well to either positivity or wry humour at your negative experience #like: either bring out something that's a minor good thing and refer to that (see example character's “looking forward to a break”)#or if that's too fake for you you can mention something you're struggling with light heartedly (see: staying on toes example)#generally though people do not want to actually discuss each other's lives here. just social glue! just the “I acknowledge you and wish to #instigate/reaffirm a social bond in this situation so we can then get onto the real stuff or leave with stronger social connections”#anyway that's like the first basic step it; does tend to get a little less straight forward the further you go in #but I've found it a great skill to learn #and once I realised it was in fact a skill just like ice skating or acting or writing i was like ahah! i can learn this!!#and show off like a kid on a skateboard every single day!

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prokopetz · 5 months ago

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I'm always a bit taken back by Homestuck fans who treat classpects as something that has, like, real-world utility as a personality typing system, because – leaving aside for the moment the broader issues inherent to all personality typing systems – there's a fairly strong reading that classpects are bullshit, and meant to be understood by the reader as bullshit, even from an in-universe perspective. There's a suggestion which becomes increasingly prominent in the latter portions of the text that SBURB as a system has a shallow and mechanistic concept of personal growth, and that while it's able to identify images and themes that are emotionally resonant to its players, it fundamentally lacks insight into why they're resonant – it's just bashing tropes together like a kid making their Barbie dolls kiss, and can't tell the difference between an aesthetic preference and a deep-seated trauma. Heck, one of the comic's more consistent motifs is that characters who voluntarily make their classpect central to their self-image typically have something profoundly wrong with them.

#media #comics #webcomics #homestuck #classpects #swearing #homestuck spoilers #spoilers

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revretch · 2 months ago

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I've been thinking about if they released a Pokemon game themed around every type, and what they would be like.

Ghost: Most obvious, something like Luigi's Mansion. Very cute, spooky adventure in a big haunted house. Prominently features references to youkai and ghosts like Toilet Hanako.

Psychic: By contrast, the psychic game is actually sci-fi horror (as much as a Pokemon game could get by with it). Lavender Town vibes, would heavily feature Alakazam and Hypno.

Water: Epic underwater survival game like Subnautica.

Fighting: A martial arts story like a Jackie Chan movie, though probably more like Kung Fu Panda. All the characters are fighting-type Pokemon. Main character is a Mankey as a nod to Journey to the West.

Flying: Set on a flying island like The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom.

Dark: Another horror game, with a darkness-based sanity mechanic like Darkest Dungeon or Amnesia: The Dark Descent. (Though, probably a stat other than sanity.)

Fairy: A medieval fantasy RPG with a story evocative of old stories dealing with the fae.

Ground: Set deep underground, a cave exploration game.

Rock: Set on another planet/dimension, about mining strange alien mineral formations. Your choice whether the Pokemon were brought along, or somehow already there.

Steel: Pokemon meets gundam!

Electric: Expanding on the teleporter incident with Bill in the first game, following a series of teleporter fusion mishaps and figuring out how to fix them. Gameplay in the form of engineering puzzles.

Normal: A medical game where you work in a Pokemon Center doing surgery on Pokemon. Obviously heavily featuring Chansey.

Fire: A traveling circus act with acrobatics using the elaborate fire displays that fire-type Pokemon can make. The gameplay mechanic is both navigating the fire-based obstacle courses, and designing them for maximum style to garner approval from the audience.

Ice: A platformer where you make ice to proceed, and can trap your enemies in ice.

Grass: A first-person RPG set in a jungle, Jumanji vibes. You play a botanist trying to find a rare flower.

Poison: A Thief-like game where you sneak around and poison assassination targets in the most kid-friendly way possible. Possibly you play as a member of Team Rocket.

Dragon: Another medieval fantasy RPG, fairly typical DnD fare.

Bug: Saving my favorite type for last! A species identification game, featuring real bugs as well as Pokemon.

#rev retches #pokemon #game

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livlaughloveluke · 10 months ago

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ᡣ𐭩 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗸

daughter of demeter! reader x luke castellan 🌿

IN WHICH.. the “best friends” of camp half-blood maybe wanna become a little more..

warning! this fic contains: fem!reader // use of y/n

🎧- lovesick by laufey

1.7k

Camp Half-blood was illuminated by gold streaks casted from the early morning sun. Light seeped into Cabin 4 through the window, painting the room with warm hues of yellow and orange. The bright rays were a natural alarm, gently waking you from your warm sleep.

As the covers slipped off your skin with ease, you carefully tiptoed out of the twin bed to close the blinds. Young campers softly snored, and you couldn’t help but smile at their blissful state. Grabbing the rough fabric, you quietly pulled the two pieces together, blocking any more sunlight from startling your siblings.

Sleep still threatened to drag you under, so you slipped on sandals and trudged towards the kitchen, eager to get a warm cup of coffee, or really anything to help you wake up.

Outside was fairly silent, contrary to the rowdy and noisy afternoons that typically filled the camp. The only ones awake were boisterous birds, who sung an enchanting song, and a few other counselors who were busy setting up for the day.

Your steady steps carried you to the small camp kitchen, where snacks littered the room as a reward for the effort of the counselors. A small jet black coffee maker stood on the counter, with Luke Castellan lingering next to it, facing away from you. Your presence went unnoticed by him, and you watched as he swiftly picked up two steaming mugs.

He slightly jumped at the sight of you, surprised by your hushed entrance.

“H-Hey. Made you your coffee.” He said, reaching out to awkwardly hand you one of the energizing brown liquids. You delicately giggled at him for his initial fright, and accepted the sweet gesture.

“Thank you. Excited for today’s activities?” You asked, taking a sip of your toasty drink. Today, Hermes and Demeter Cabin were partnering up for a lazy day doing arts and crafts and indoor activities. The kids spent the past week relentlessly training, working hard from dusk till dawn, so an easy day was needed.

“Any time I get to spend with you is exciting.” Luke replied, smirking, before realizing how that sounded and backtracking. “I- Uh, I didn’t mean it-“

You laughed again, quickly cutting him off.

“I know what you meant. See you at eight.” You turned away, teasingly bumping his shoulder.

“See ya.” He whispered out, pursing his lips and doing a slight nod as he witnessed you sauntering away.

You and Luke had been close friends since the beginning. He arrived with Annabeth and Grover, confused and broken by the world. Luke never wanted to be a demigod, to lose Thalia. It was all too much for him.

But then you passed by in the infirmary, practically radiating a positive energy. You smiled at him, a genuine smile, with your nose scrunching up and your eyes nearly closing, before going to chat with some Apollo kid.

You were selected to give him and Annabeth a tour later that afternoon, presumably for your friendly and charming personality that seemed to lure people in. Luke got to observe your perfection firsthand as you helped the his sister adapt to the new surroundings, sweetly showing her everything to love about camp.

Luke followed you around like a lost puppy, mesmerized by your every move. With every step you took, luscious flowers blossomed, creating a beautiful scenery. Not to mention, the kids looked up to you so dearly, with the way you patched their nearly invisible cuts and grew them tulips on their worst days.

The sad reality was you were more of a mother to them than their biological parents, even if you were only fourteen at the time. You did your best to make them feel “normal,” to let them live a glorious childhood that you were never granted.

In those five years after his arrival, you became close as ever. Whether it was spending time basking in the strawberry fields or splashing around in the lake, you spent every minute together, your bond stronger than any weapon forged in Olympus. You laid by him on those restless nights before he got claimed, and after, too. And when you had a small cold, he went full Apollo-mode and spent hours glued to your side until you felt better.

However, there was one teensy issue. Luke was hopelessly and utterly in love with you. Every one saw the way he gazed at you a little too long and with a little too much love in his eyes for just a friend.

Well, all noticed except you. The poor boy thought you weren’t interested, but the reality was your concept of love was so twisted and blurry that you had no clue what “love” even looked like.

So, both you and him stayed silent, hoping one would realize eventually, and end this torture of a situationship.

Which brings us back to now, a cool and humid lazy morning with the campers, lounging on the few picnic tables decorated outside Hermes Cabin. Luke watched as you sat with your (and his) siblings, carefully threading pearly pink beads on a flimsy string. You laughed as you talked to the young children, making sure they were all included. The sun brightened your features, making you appeal heavenly. And your eyes twinkled with curiosity as a little unclaimed kid ranted on about some silly story.

“Dude, you’re staring again.” Chris chimed in, raising his eyebrows as he continued to paint navy shades of blue onto a rock.

“Shut up. Aren’t you whipped for Clarisse?” Luke sarcastically asked.

“If anyones whipped here, it’s you. How long have you liked her now? Can’t you just tell her already?” He was quick to return the sassy attitude, remaining unbothered by his friend’s remark.

“It’s not that simple, you know that. What if she doesn’t like me back and-“ He tried to ramble on, negative thoughts swallowing him whole. Luckily, Chris was there to pull him out of his own mind with yet another dumb comment.

“Damn. I knew you weren’t Athena’s son, but I didn’t know you were that clueless.”

“What?” Luke questioned, slightly offended.

“How many guys has she dated since she met you?”

“None. But I don’t see how this really relates-“

“And how many have asked her out?”

Luke paused for a second. There was Ethan from Ares, who tried asking her on a date a week ago, but she declined. Or Jack from Aphrodite, who, let’s be real, was the most attractive boy in camp, but she rejected him, too.

Chris took his silence as a victory. “Exactly.” He retorted.

“Whatever.” Luke shrugged, hopping up to sit by you. You scooted to your left, making room for him instantly. Cheers erupted from the campers as they saw their (second favorite) counselor.

“Luke! Y/N told us that you still snore when you sleep!” One of them pipped out, sending the rest of the minions into a giggle fit. Luke took a dramatic gasp in, placing a hand on his heart to pretend he was hurt.

“I do not!” He yelped, making the younger laugh even harder. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched the kids joke around.

“I can’t believe you would betray me like that!” He said to you, trying to fake upset, but the huge grin on his face said otherwise.

“I mean, am I wrong? You are the loudest sleeper I’ve ever met!” You reply, grinning.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looks the other way, and before you can say anything, a voice cut you off.

“Hey! Luke, Y/N!” A blond Apollo child shouted from afar, gently jogging while approaching them. They shifted their attention, prepared to fulfill whatever task presented.

“Chiron needs you in the office. New kid arrived. They said his name was Percy or something?” He finished, jogging away, most likely to get back to the infirmary.

The leaders looked back at their older friend, wondering if he could cover while they helped this newcomer out.

Chris gave a thumbs up, signaling he could watch them for a few minutes.

You and Luke playfully danced around one another on the short stroll, talking about anything and everything while you walk through the woods.

Soon, you reached the open building, the stain glass windows casting a colorful glow. You peer inside to see a blond teen, looking around twelve years old, arguing with Dionysius.

“Peter Johnson is here!” The drunk croaked out, and the two counselors made sure to swoop in.

“Percy, Right?” You said, slightly a little too enthusiastic for 8am on a Tuesday morning.

“Yeah. At least someone around here can get my name right.” He rolled his eyes.

“Sorry about that. He can be a little.. chaotic. I’m Y/N, counselor of Demeter Cabin, and this is Luke, counselor of Hermes Cabin. We can give you a tour, if you want.” You explained, gesturing towards Luke who gave a friendly smile.

“Yeah, sure.” The blond boy replied.

“And this is Hermes Cabin, where you’ll be staying.” Luke exclaimed, pointing to the rough looking room.

“Uh, no offense, but why am I staying here?” Percy asked, disgust lingering in his words as he stared down the messy bunks.

“Uh, Offense taken. First of all, we’re definitely the best cabin of all time. And all unclaimed campers stay here, along with children of minor Gods.” The brunette said.

“Hate to break it to you Luke, but Demeter absolutely solos your Cabin.” You cut in, mouth letting out a ‘tsk’ sound.

“Slow your roll there. Your cabin may be neat, but the amount of plants in there is slightly concerning.” Luke joked, you and him now unknowingly engaged in your own little conversation.

“It’s better than your pig pen!” You shouted, your sweet laugh echoing throughout the area.

“Whatever you say, Princess.” He replied, and Percy took a step back, running into an older teen, staring at the “friends” who were flirting right before everyone.

“Do they always act like this?” He asked, referring to their nonstop conversations, and their slight physical touch. Your fleshy fingers were somehow always grazing his calloused skin.

“Always. It’s sickening.” Chris replied.

“Agreed.” Percy sighed out, as Luke looked back at the two. They both gave an encouraging look, telling him to shoot his shot.

“Hey, I was wondering if you, uh, wanted to go out to the lake tonight? Just us?” He asked you, throat going dry and knees threatening to buckle as he fidgeted with his thumbs.

“I’d love too, Luke.” You replied, blushing as you swayed nervously.

“Great! It’s a date! Unless you don’t want it to be-“ He was quick to start, but you briefly interrupted.

“I’d like that.”

୨୧

MASTERLISTS 𓏲𝄢 REQUEST / TALK TO ME 𓏲𝄢 RULES

#luke castellan #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x demeter reader #liv’s writing !

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givemewallywestorgivemedeath · 2 years ago

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Let me tell you, Wally is good at the possession part.

I mean, he was just hopping along, possessing speedsters left and right. He wasn't even intending to do it, it just kept happening. But there was no pushback, no struggle, no one got hurt and no one got their consciousness shoved into the speedforce. Wally just subconsciously put them to sleep and took control.

Thank goodness for that because Barry was in extreme pain when Eobard possessed him. Barry and Max also both got shoved into the speedforce during the whole process. Max was stuck in there for years.

Luckily Barry was able to fight back and regain control of his body from the speedforce but it was by no means easy.

Using the same technique as possession, Wally was able to 'fuse' with Walter (an alt version of himself). But unlike every other instance of fusion they were both conscious and they were able to share thoughts.

They didn't speak to each other per say, rather their brains linked up and formed one single (slightly fragmented) consciousness. Wally at the time thought that this was only possible because they were basically the same guy with the same body. That's incorrect as every single speedster possession since then has been two wildly different people.

Wally is the one with the most experience here and I'm pretty sure that he would be able to fuse with Bart. He would just have to make sure that he didn't put Bart 'to sleep'. And Bart, for his part, has actually fused before and he was the dominant personality during said fusion. Bart is also incredibly comfortable with splitting and merging consciousness and managing different memories/thoughts as you can see when he deals with his scouts.

I'm actually fairly confident that if Bart wasn't wearing an inhibitor collar when Wally possessed him, Bart would have been able to successfully fight Wally's 'sleep spell'. They would've fought for control like two kids with a single Xbox controller.

It's crazy that this is honestly something they could do in canon and it would just be so funny.

A) Speedsters can possess the bodies of other speedsters by phasing into the host speedster's body and/or turning into pure energy and merging with the host body via the host's speedforce connection.

B) Speedsters can fuse with other speedsters. During this fusion they 'share' a brain and thought processes.

C) Fusion differs from possession in that fusion relies on both parties sharing control. Possession is easier as only one speedster is in control and it sidesteps the risk of a fusion falling apart due to differing mental states/thoughts. Fusion requires a deep connection and a strong bond to work.

D) Wally and Bart have such a strong bond that they can speak to each other through the speedforce and sense each other's emotions from anywhere in the world.

Conclusion:

DC has the ability to unleash a fusion of Bart and Wally upon the world and they have not yet done so. This is criminal. Imagine the shenanigans. The confusion. The hilarity. Especially if they accidentally do it. DC don't be a coward.

#the thing about speedster possession is that there's no merging of the bodies in a visible sense #only the host body is visible and the other speedster is typically not visible at all #but with fusion Wally and Walter got a whole new suit with a new design #so because they were both conscious and their brains fused they kinda briefly formed a new person #and that person made a new suit #so (and especially because of how changeable speedster bodies are) im fairly certain that a true fusion between two speedsters #would result in a new speedsters comprised of the two speedsters complete with a new suit #Wally and Walter only got a new suit cause they had the same face. but they shared memories and knowledge and stuff.#it was a full on fusion.#so yeah i think a Bart and Wally combo (if done right) could be a legit fusion and a new consciousness #and i think thatd be REALLY cool #especially because Wally is prone to just being chucked into speedster's bodies at random #and Bart has a habit of pulling Wally to him through space and time when he's upset #so uh.... i could totally see a situation where the two of them are acting as each other's lightning rods in a stressful situation #and they bump into each other #and its just #bam #fusion #and they don't know what the fuck is going on or how to stop. because wally never really figured out the stop part he just got flung around #anyway #its funny to me #bart allen #impulse #wally west #kid flash #the flash #dc comics #dc #speedsters

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sourszt · 2 months ago

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𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 | hate fucking + age gap

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — billy butcher x fem!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — nsfw, age gap, hate fucking, reader is in her 20s, butcher is like 40something, porn with plot, slight “daddy”/father-ish kink, slight power imbalance, bratty reader, butcher gets drunk, “kid” and “sweetheart” used, typical butcher language, top!reader, unusually soft ending

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 — ending was lowkey doodoobuns but idc, also i lowkey gave the reader a slightly genuine plot im considering it for an oc LMFAO anyways enjoy ! this man brings out the worst in me unfortunately.

“maybe i’d have been better off if you’d just fucked off and left me alone!”

your own words still rang in your head from earlier. the venom in them that were meant for the man you were desperately searching for had splashed back onto you, and it fucking hurt. especially because you didn’t even mean to say it.

butcher always brought out the worst in you. whenever the two of you argued, which was just a hair below constantly, he just never knew when to stop. he pushed and pushed until you lashed out so badly that it would leave him silent.

everybody told you it was because you were the youngest in the group. having joined the team that called themselves ‘the boys’ at twenty years old because of your unprecedented intelligence and strategy, you had become accustomed to their violent methods. well, every method except one.

billy butcher. the group’s uncrowned commander seemed to be your only downfall. initially you expected him to treat you like a child because of your age. but it was never about that. for the two years you stuck with them, he was constantly breathing down your neck waiting for you to screw up.

he denied the special attention he gave you, which often caused the explosive arguments between the two of you. frenchie and m.m. opted to stay out of the way, but usually consoled you after the fact while butcher would storm off for hours, sometimes days to pull himself together.

much like now. a few hours ago, the two of you were knee deep in a vicious screaming match because of a nearly botched mission. butcher was blaming your lack of foresight when it came to an unexpected issue (though it was quickly taken care of) and said that you just weren’t one of them. you bit back just as hard, telling him that he was a selfish asshole who you should have never trusted.

you tore him a new one, expecting twice the fury back. but instead a flash of hurt shone in butcher’s narrowed eyes and he took off without a word.

m.m., the one who was always quick to take your side, told you once you settled down that you should be the one to find him. drag him out of whatever bar he was holed up in. he granted you permission to humiliate the man if you needed to because he knew how butcher was. you deserved to stomp the shit out of that man if you ever got the chance.

so that was how you ended up in the lot of a bar, ushering a fairly buzzed butcher into the passenger seat of the van. he came out calmly, which surprised you. he muttered something about missing his bed at home.

so you shot a quick call to frenchie telling him that you would be taking butcher home but to wait up for you when you got back to the motel. then began the most uncomfortable drive of your life.

an apology was on the tip of your tongue but every time you stole a glance at the man, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. you suddenly remembered why you were angry before and refused to be the bigger person.

butcher was the same type of stubborn.

“how much have you had?” you broke the silence first, concern outweighing your frustration.

butcher didn’t respond, instead saying, “you know, i meant what i said earlier.”

you rolled your eyes and clutched the steering wheel to keep from swerving the both of you into oncoming traffic.

“some fuckin’ strategist you are. nearly had us all made like some right cunt.” he dragged his words out more than usual. he was intentionally trying to make you mad. he wanted to fight.

“what the fuck is wrong with you, butcher?” you snapped, the emotions from earlier flooding back to you. “all you’ve ever done for me was made me wonder if jumping off the top of vought tower would be better than being in the same goddamn room as you. old enough to be my fucking father yet you’re as immature as they come.”

butcher went quiet for a while, slowly looking over at you. “oh, is that it? does the little girl have daddy issues?”

you slammed on the brakes and put the van into park. you had arrived at butcher’s place. “we’re here.” you bit coldly.

butcher was well aware of your reasoning for going after the supes along with the rest of the boys. your parents were caught in the crossfire to a rather nefarious supe scandal when you were a child. you only uncovered the truth a few years back, the vigilante group and its original leader, mallory, becoming your saving graces and second family.

you helped the man up to his front door so that he didn’t fall. your job should have ended there and you should have gone back to the van but instead you followed butcher inside, much to his confusion.

“whaddaya want? i thought you said you’d be better if i’d just fucked right off.” butcher spoke with a taunting laugh as he tossed his keys onto his coffee table.

“you know,” you began, your fists tensing at your sides. you were about to start treading on paper thin ice, “i didn’t think it was because of my age, but i’m starting to think that’s it.” you said challengingly.

butcher peeled his long black coat off and shot you a strange sideways glance. “hell are you on about?” it took him a little too long to respond, even in his buzzed state.

you cocked your head. it seemed you hit the nail right on the head. if that weren’t the case, he would have immediately shut you down and struck up a new argument.

a dry laugh came from you. “what is it then? are you intimidated by how young i am? threatened?” you questioned. the daring tone in your voice as you stepped towards him made his eyes narrow.

“watch yourself.”

“there you go acting like my fucking father again. is that it? you like how young i am? you wanna be my daddy? you’re over twice my age and that gets you going, doesn’t it?”

“i’m warnin’ ya, kid.” his sharp tone cut clean through the rapidly building tension between you two and actually rendered you quiet. sure, butcher could be a right asshole but he never had snapped at you like this before.

he certainly never called you kid before, either.

it looked like you had him backed into a corner. you held his gaze, noticing how the alcohol in his system made him glance down at your lips a few too many times. you refused to be the one to prove him right so you stayed still.

you could smell the beer on his breath. he was pretty much unpredictable now. “how long, huh?” your voice cane out low and shaky. butcher looked up at you and tilted his head a little like he was daring you to keep going. “how long have you wanted to fuck me?”

butcher sneered down at you and you actually expected him to shove you away. but he didn’t. you were at a standstill. neither of you wanted to be the first to crumble under the tension, but it had to come to an end at some point.

after what felt like an eternity, butcher closed the gap. part of you thought that the hands that came to grab your jaw were meant to hit you and you tensed up when he suddenly kissed you. you made a grab for his wrists like you were going to defend yourself but once you realized his intention, you all but melted into him.

he overpowered you without question, his body pushing you back until your back hit the wall. you could taste the alcohol on his tongue.

his strong hands were all over you. running down your sides to grip your hips, then sliding back to squeeze your ass through your jeans. you moaned at the contact, your head tilting back to rest against the wall. he stole that opportunity to start making his way down the side of your neck. his rough beard tickled your skin and you squirmed under him, your fingers running through his hair to weakly tug at it.

“makes you tick, does it?” butcher’s gruff voice made your head spin. you could practically hear the smirk on his face when your hips subconsciously bucked against him. he knew all of that confidence you wore earlier was long gone.

it only lingered long enough for you to start undoing the buttons to his shirt, and he quickly understood the message. he hoisted you up into his arms, mumbling a curse under his breath when your legs hooked around his waist.

he was on you the second you hit his bed, enveloped in a messy kiss while you scrambled madly to get each other’s clothes off. something about the way he so swiftly helped you peel out of your pants and top made you that much more desperate to fuck him. his hands were so big and skilled, you found yourself staring at them with hunger in your eyes.

you rolled him over to straddle his lap, whining at the feeling of his bulge against your clothed cunt. only two thin layers of fabric stood between you. still, you rolled your hips slowly down onto him and got a sharp hiss from him. those same hands you craved came up to grab your hips.

“slow down, sweetheart,” butcher groaned. his eyes raked down your body. “fuckin’ fit little thing, ain’t ya? all sat nice ‘n pretty in daddy’s lap.”

a chill raked down your spine and part of you felt ashamed of how badly his words made your stomach flutter. it was probably the worst situation you could have ended up in. a twenty-two year old woman about to have sex with a man just over twice your age. the man who was supposed to be guiding you — teaching you in a dangerous field. the man who was supposed to know better than this.

you could care less about how wrong it was. the look in his eyes as you slid your bra off for him made up for it. his hands were rough as they played with your tits. it was clear that he was skilled, knowing exactly where to touch you that would have you pleading for more.

“stop fu—fucking around,” you snapped as threateningly as you could while butcher lazily stroked your clit through the front of your panties. his pace went tear-jerkingly rough for a moment and you sharply cried, “butcher!”

“have some fucken’ patience, love.” butcher taunted you, all while complying. he struggled to hide his own eagerness as he popped the stitches on the hip of your panties to get them off of you, ignoring your fiery complaints. “i’ll buy you new ones, quit yellin’.” he’d dismissed you absently.

in the meantime he hurried to free his cock, groaning the moment he started to run the leaking head through your slick folds. “look at ya. all worked up for me, ay?” the man teased, observing how red your face flushed. you were too tongue tied to argue with him, especially after he slid his thick cock into you without warning.

his hands locked around your hips, burying himself deep into you. you could feel him roll up against you, drawing a long whine from you. he offered you only a second to enjoy the fullness you felt before he dug his heels into the comforter and started to thrust up into you.

you grasped at his arms that were still at your sides for some leverage, your mind blanking. part of you was beyond irritated that you were letting butcher put you in such a position but every time the tip of his cock hit a visceral spot inside of you, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about it for too long. resisting against the viselike grip he had on your waist, you started shifting to match his slow thrusts.

“fuck, tight little cunt,” butcher hissed under his breath. the slight slip of his cocky demeanor gave you the upper hand now, so you started to set your own pace. butcher’s head fell back against the pillows as you started to bounce on his cock, bracing yourself on his chest. “that’s it, kid, keep goin’.”

you couldn’t help the moan that slipped at the nickname. it spurred you on. you ignored the burn in your thighs and worked yourself on his thick cock. tears pricked at your eyes, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

of all of the times you’d had sex before, nothing compared to this. to him. he filled you to the fucking brim, hitting all of the right spots and then some, knowing exactly how to get you going. part of you knew you should be hating this; fucking the man you considered your mentor. the man over half your age.

but you didn’t care. all you cared about was getting yourself off, pushing and pushing yourself as that coil in your stomach continued to tighten. butcher helped steady you when your pace began to falter, his thick fingers grasping your plush hips.

“c’mon, i’ve gotcha.” butcher coaxed you along. it hit you like a truck, stealing all of the air from your lungs and sending several tears streaking down your face. you felt him lift you up in your dazed state, and then you felt his load hit your stomach.

for a moment, it was quiet. both of you recollecting yourselves. butcher reached up to tuck your hair behind your ears. he kept asking if you were okay, likely because of the tear stains. it was a side of butcher you had never seen before. so caring and considerate.

even after you had fallen onto your back, slightly curled into his side, neither of you spoke for a while. then he cleared his throat. “ya know, i never meant to be so hard on ya.” he reluctantly admitted. “i just hate to see ya get hurt. you’re… you’re a kid, you shouldn’t be so wrapped up with us — with me.”

you listened. nodded understandingly. “i know, but it’s not like i have a choice. that’s how it was at first. but now… i’ve come this far. i’m comfortable with you guys.” you stopped yourself from rambling and getting too emotional. “sometimes i tell myself that my parents would be happy that i found people who take such great care of me. granted, they’d have hated you at first,” the sly comment earned a scoff from butcher. you laughed.

“but if i had to redo it all, i wouldn’t change anything.”

ending was a lil too soft for someone like butcher but i had no idea how to finish it so yea !

#kinktober 2024 #kinktober #the boys kinktober #the boys smut #the boys #billy butcher #billy butcher smut #billy butcher the boys #the boys billy butcher #the boys butcher #the boys butcher smut

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hetalian-veteran · 3 months ago

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Hetalia Sleep Headcanons

Here, have my headcanons about how the Hetalia characters sleep because I'm still awake at this ungodly hour of the night.

🇮🇹Italy needs to cling to something to sleep well. Whether it be a pillow, a plushie, or another person, the poor guy needs something or someone there to cuddle.

🇩🇪Germany has really bad insomnia and can only get at most four or five hours of sleep a night, and that's if he's lucky. But when he does sleep, he probably sleeps on his back, still as the grave.

🇯🇵Japan also sleeps on his back and is so still and quiet that every now and then, someone comes by to check and see if he really is asleep and not dead.

🇮🇹Romano sleeps on his side with his arms sort of stretched outward, almost as if he's reaching for someone. That, or he's dreaming of beating someone up. You know, one or the other.

⚔️Prussia will lay down on his back and fall asleep that way. However, he's the kind of guy who moves around a lot in his sleep. So when he wakes up, he's sort of on his face and stretched out like a starfish.

🇪🇸Spain sleeps like a freaking baby and gets a full nine hours every night. Lucky son of a gun.

🇬🇧England has a pretty hard time quieting his mind down enough to get to sleep. So he spends his nights slowly sipping on a cup of tea to try and calm himself down enough to get some shut-eye.

🇺🇸America moves around, twists, and rolls over so often in his sleep that when he wakes up, he typically finds himself tangled up in his blankets. Sometimes, he accidentally rolls out of bed.

🇫🇷France can only sleep if the room is completely dark. Like, pitch black. He also sleeps on his side and sometimes hums a little in his sleep.

🇨🇳China has insomnia pretty bad and, as a result, will often find himself staying up at night drinking tea. When he can sleep, however, he sort of curls up into a ball under the covers.

🇷🇺Russia sleeps on his back and stays in that position the entire night. Sometimes giggles and smiles a little in his sleep.

🇨🇦Canada needs several layers of heavy blankets to sleep, as well as something or someone to cuddle.

🇩🇰Denmark sleeps on his side and has sometimes been heard singing in his sleep, though nobody has been able to make out what exactly he's singing. He also occasionally snores.

🇸🇪Sweden usually falls asleep whilst looking through Ikea catalogs. They seem to really help calm his mind.

🇫🇮Finland often smiles while he sleeps, sometimes even giggling a little every now and again. He also sleeps best when listening to some of the most intense, heavy metal you've ever heard.

🇳🇴Norway plays white noise and curls up into a ball under a couple of layers of thick, heavy blankets. He probably hugs a pillow, thinking of the days when Iceland used to call him big brother as a little kid.

🇮🇸Iceland can only get to sleep in total darkness and in total silence. He's also a light sleeper, so anybody walking around the room will immediately wake him up.

🇭🇺Hungary sleeps like an actual normal person. I really don't know how else to describe it. Though she has been heard saying some pretty weird crap in her sleep before.

🇦🇹Austria sleeps best if he has soft classical music playing. Unfortunately for him, Prussia hacked into his playlist and threw in some of Finland's heavy metal songs.

🇱🇮Liechtenstein is a fairly light sleeper. She's also afraid of the dark, so she typically has a nightlight somewhere in her room.

🇨🇭Switzerland is also another character with insomnia. This is because he is low-key paranoid about making sure the entire house is locked up before he goes to bed at night. He wants to make sure he and Liechtenstein are safe.

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frownyalfred · 4 months ago

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Just thinking about a depowered Superman that's used to doing Batmans daily excercise routine with him, now struggling and understanding why the non super strenth/endurance jl members think the Bat is a secret meta

As someone who is fairly active and lifts weights, thinking about Bruce’s typical exercise routine makes me genuinely nauseous. I would die. I wouldn’t even have the energy to scream lmao. He must run those kids RAGGED holy fuck. The DOMS would take me out for months.

A depowered Clark would absolutely break or tear something if he tried to do it cold turkey.

#asks #anon #bruce wayne #batman #dc #batfamily #clark kent #superman

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court-jobi · 3 months ago

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Goldeneye Down

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's characters/stories))

Pairing: Hawks x reader (quirkless!(gn)reader)

Words: 4.6K

Rating: T+ (canon-typical post-mission shenanigans, so it gets raw, kids.)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, description of injuries/blood, mentions of medical trauma, anxiety, so many tears, mutual pining, HURT/COMFORT, angst with a happy ending

Summary:

If a kiss would fix him, he'd sooner never breathe again. If you knew it would work, you'd surrender your lungs and anything else for his comfort. He hardly gets tender treatment after a fight- and that shows by how tightly he's hugging your waist for dear life. Alternatively: three times you've witnessed your dashing Hawks masking his hurt, until he can't anymore. Each time is worse than the last- until you finally learn that you're the only one who truly asks how he feels after nights like this. Not 'how are your wings' or 'is he stable'... but it's you who takes the time to wipe his face gently with a washcloth: not to rid Hawks of the sweat and grit to make him presentable, but gifting Keigo the chance to feel clean for once.

A/N: Yall, this man is one of my favorite characters on this show, and I have so many writing plans for him-- so apologies for starting right out the gate with angst??? I love him I swear

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

The first time you ever saw Hawks shirtless was hardly the stuff fantasies or a perfume advert concocted. He was bandaged across one entire pec, around his middle, and up to his shoulder, after all.

Work as a writer took you to many glamorous locations, but also to the grittiest– recently, hero hospitals when there’s been a close call and you are in for an interview with either a dying hero for their final public wish, or a heartfelt op-ed about a rising sidekick’s latest stand against threat and evil. In either case, you’d wound up at the bedside of a darling rescue agent who’d had an incredible story to share despite their career-ending injuries.

With a genuine word of thanks and a shared pudding packet, you were leaving the hospital wing in fairly good spirits until your stomach turned in shock at what awaited you in the hallway– a gravely bandaged Hawks standing at the nurse’s station in a half state of dress, locking eyes with you in the first instance where you’d ever caught him off his guard.

Those gorgeous eyes flashed in nervous panic which melted into boyish charm awfully quickly- standard practice for the secret object of your affections-

“Well gosh, nurse, I thought you’d give a guy a warning if a guardian angel was going to be visiting today… I’d have been decent enough to put a shirt on~!”

It was a detour of hoarse-voiced flirting on his part and masked heartbreak on yours. Seeing the blonde numbed out and paler than you’d ever witnessed him out on the job, your veil of professionalism slipped enough to really see Hawks in this moment… and catch wind of an unaware attendant who slipped the hero’s last name in front of you.

Said PA immediately recoiled upon seeing you -an extended member of the press- overhear the #2 Pro Hero’s legal name. Though at your insistence that you were here on business that didn’t concern him, Hawks visibly relaxed enough to give you his first name himself the moment the nurse left.

‘Mr. Takami is far too formal to come outta you; don’t even think about calling me that, dove.’

Keigo Takami truly was a man containing multitudes, but for all the tough talk about how ‘you should have seen the other guy’, you worried about that man you’ve seen now without his gold visor that night when you went home, and wondered if he was sleeping ok with his chest bound like that.

The next injury sighting took several months of continued text exchanges, private balcony sidebars, and continued endurance of Hawks’ public displays of blatant sweet talking for you to see him less than chipper again.

Your meeting with the HPSC Press Chair was running painfully long, but necessary given the content you were working on publishing for them as side work. It wasn’t doable for you to take on a full-time job with the Hero Commission, but in your philanthropic effort to unite the civilian world with those of high profile heroes, you took on these winded assignments with the promise of a pay bump… as well as a chance to see your darling flyboy. Not that they’d note or care about your budding affections for him. Thankfully, your tight lipped smiles at him were ironclad and his reputation as a charming star preceded him, even to his higher ups so the true feelings never fully sunk in so long as you were mindful.

Pulling a doubletake at your presence in the conference room from the glass windows led Hawks to hang a left inside to quip at you, fully interrupting your meeting despite the scowls he received from the suits lining the table.

“Well isn’t this a pleasant surprise~ hey there, lovedove. Aren’t you pretty as a peach today?”

“Hey there, yourself,” you turned to acknowledge him politely, but pointedly fixed on his eye that laid nearly completely blackened and the cheek scraped to a raw red. “--aren’t you looking- purple.”

Hawks being sufficiently threatened to report elsewhere didn’t stop him from throwing you a dismissive wink and a smirk at your subtle worry,

“Oh this? Nah, it’ll fade. I could use the blush anyway~ it’ll save me a trip for photos tomorrow!”

That charming show of optimism wasn’t a surprise as you turned back to your grumpily apologetic managers, though you never did quite forget how Keigo stayed in the entryway soaking in even your curt ending of the conversation. He had to be practically ushered out by some fellow training officers for him to go on his merry way. Your inspection of him had been lightning quick, and you were nearly certain he was black and blue in more places than his face judging by how he sidestepped out the door.

Would he ever take his pain seriously? Under all that swagger, you certainly hoped so. Or else you hoped someone would make a fuss over him.

Hawks shows on your patio at 12:30 in the morning one day, knocking silly on your side door. It’s been weeks since you wrote another touching piece for the HPCS’s statement on civic protection, and too long since he’s taken a rooftop stroll with you. Hell, far too long that he's had you close. Keeping you at his side, tucked under his towering wing, shielding you from the night winds, peppering each other with soft-spoken words and some stolen kisses he swears mean more to him than a move ‘just for luck’.

Hawks knocks three times... huffing. He glanced towards the ground, tucking what's left of his wings further in with a wince. He knocks four more times, each more insistent than the last, but mindful of the noise. He even shushes himself in the delirium, canvassing your living room for signs of life.

Your oven light was still on, suggesting you hadn't gone through your full nighttime shutdown yet. That single light bulb in your kitchen appeared to double the more he stared, and tried to blink the unease away. Shit. He's really in no condition to fly. The sidewalk below your floor takes his attention again at the cry he hears. The sound is only cat this time, but still makes him oh-so nervous.

Hawks moans his impatience coupled by the searing pain, begging you to come notice him at the sliding glass. He drops his head damp with sweat to the window (intent to apologize for it later) and just bangs on the window like the desperate man he is.

"Please be up, please be up, please..."

When he opens his eyes briefly, he sees a shadow before him approaching. You'd flicked on more light in your living room and were jogging up to the window with shock brightening your features to total wakefulness. He's never been happier to see you so panicked.

Your confusion is palpable behind the door as you push the blind’s interior locking rod aside and flip up the lock, sliding it-- and Hawks-- along with you.

"Who-ooah!! Hawks??" You whisper-scream.

Stumbling aside, he grips his still bleeding hip and winces at what that move causes for his back. Eyes screwed shut, he can't even quite manage a suave, sweet greeting; he merely sighs your name as an answer to prayer.

You take in this poor, disheveled shell of a hero as he looks every bit like he's come from a dogfight. Not only were his wings sparse and bony from overuse, but his left wing was seizing up and stunted at a poor angle you knew wasn't natural.

oh my God, those poor wings… You collected him up with ready arms- gingerly guiding inside through the center of the patio, wary of bumping either's span of the door.

"carefulcarefulcareful–"

"eh, it’ll-- nnngh!!" Hawks doubled over-thankfully right into you- "I got'kicked in the back-- right under...ahhhh~ "

Not only that, but despite the blackness of his under armour and gloves, you noted now by movement and smell that he was bleeding elsewhere. Besides the hobble, he sports a busted cheekbone and lip– which he likely bit himself.

This was a hard state to see him in and truly frightened you by the blood loss alone. Worse than any other time you’d seen him after a mission by far.

Primal, parental instincts filled you and spilled out before you could stop yourself.

"Honey, we gotta get you to Dagoba General; it's closest--"

"I can't-" Hawks stopped you with a vice grip on your wrist while he hobbled along, "s'too public."

-Not allowed, even in an emergency. This you remembered from his earlier run through of policies about heroes needing medical attention; where in the city he could go, how it should be handled privately, and out of civilian's eyes.

"oh shit-- well, how bout the hero hospital, the one by that high school? Can't you call- or I can call! Let me-"

"No~" hawks moaned miserably. "I jus' gotta sit."

“Aren’t you -uh- supposed to have your legs up? You can lay back, it’s ok,” you try to guide him, but he only wavers- set on sitting up. His still-sure sights canvassing the room tells you he’s in a protective, alert headspace here in new surroundings. He might need more direction from you to break this..

"Hawks-- this is beyond what I can do,” You tried to reason with him, grappling a random throw blanket semi draped on the couch before he could sit down. “I told you I worked in refugee centers, I only know basic first aid- but this is more than I can help you, honey! They can get you fluids, a transfusion if you need it, pain meds stronger than what I have from the corner store if you’d just- where's your phone, I can call for an ambulan-"

Hawks fired up right away-

"NO!!" He begged, "no- they, they can't.. I don't wan'.."

Helping him sit, you knelt carefully trying to hear through his clear pain-rattled rant.

You assume he doesn't want the trouble of an ambulance or worry it wouldn't get here in time- which scares you more is debatable.

"We’re working against time here, hot stuff.." you tried for levity, caressing his hand. While he took it shakily, he bit his groan back.

He looked at you seriously, but pouted back in a way you'd normally giggle at, "No 'wee-woos'."

"I know you don't want ‘wee-woos’, but I think we're past that now."

You cup Hawks’ cheek which successfully transfixes his attention right on your face, while you blindly try his jacket's inner pocket for his phone- closer than yours that’s clear in the back bedroom on your charger,

"Look, I'll even talk for ya, okay? You don’t have to explain a thing about what happened tonight. Let's just get you help-"

"NO!! I can't hav' 'em find you here!"

His outburst startled you so you pulled back from his jacket entirely- at a true loss, "Can’t have who find me?"

"I won' let 'em," Hawks shook his head, pressing into his side, "I-- they don' know I'm here- they can' see only the pinpoint. Not ell'vation. Ahh. Don't wan'em know.. where you live, f’they don’ already."

You fought to keep up. He's clearly distressed- but you're surprised it's by the thought over your residence being found out. Who would be upset at the fact of him being here enough to have him shaken from even emergency services finding out?

Then you realize, he’s on the clock. He’s gotten hurt at work, and he’s not patrolling anymore. ‘The asset is damaged,’ and he’s laying low effectively out of sight.

"Your.. what, your bosses? Is that what you're worried about right now?"

Hawks was fighting for some deeper breaths. Some old instincts finally kicking in, he’s pushing air out forcefully though his lips in a decent try to slow himself down. He knows you know that much– how his work is essentially divvied into two piles: the stuff you hear about on the news, and the stuff you don't. The HPSC handles both, but primarily involves him in one. Thankfully, he knows you're quick enough to know tonight is a night of the latter and one that you know you shouldn't ask too much more of, despite your clear desire for understanding.

But he’s bleeding on your sofa and he is about to damn near break or bleed out and you feel drawn to his heart and feel a selfish urge to know.

"I don't understand- why, ... why come here if you were worried, Kei?"

"I was.. close,” he offered with some huffs again.

That answer felt too loaded, but you were too groggy yourself to reason with such a clammy man dealing with who knows how much blood loss.

He forced as much clarity to his vision as he could, while watching you get up to close the patio door up. You shut the blinds for good measure too before debating whether to run back to the bathroom and grab what gauze and antiseptics you had. For both the sake of time and to keep the poor man from following you throughout the apartment like you knew he’d try to do, you settled on wetting a few washcloths by the sink and came back to him.

"Your fight was close to here?" You kept him in the moment while attempting to get off his coat. He sat forward to help in this, but his eyes shut hard as it forced his shoulder blades together, to feed the gap over the wings.

Through steeled grunts he manages it, then strangles out the basics for you, "Y-yeah.. small.. weap'n traffic ring. But we had intel they'd.. Had a hit out on’the magistrate."

You set the bloodied jacket to the ground- torn between looking at his pained face and getting a look at the hip he was leaning into.

"They hadda few tough quirk users," Hawks gritted, separating his hand at your insistence. The shirt peeling back sticky was the least of his worries when you laid the wet washcloth at his side, "one had blades for legs, n’the other had a kind of whip-AHH!!"

Only water, but it burned like hell. Burned through the mess he'd made of himself. Proof he'd been sent in there outmatched-- 5 to 1 so he says, but even for the #2 Hero, the odds were stacked against him for a covert attack. You whispered a gentle apology over the sting.

You hated hearing the challenge and clear surprise of the incident that caused this version of your hero to be brought to the surface, knocking on your door like a kid trying to sneak back into the house in the middle of the night.

"So they nicked you here– and your back?" You asked gently, "Anywhere else?"

"They were gonna take out the block--"

You heard the panic rise in him again, the tremor in voice and wings.

"Haw-.. Keigo."

"They were gonna-- they didn't even know you lived up here.. you of all people.. but they were gonna do it. I had- said I hadta stop em, whatever it took.."

You set the first soiled cloth aside, centered between his spread knees, and cupped his face in both hands now. He's trembling all over and pulse is going wild under your fingers. He locked onto your necklace- avoiding your eyes in anger, guilt, and a messy, gnarled ball of exhaustion while you cleaned his face.

It wasn’t clinically necessary, but you wanted to.

"But you stopped them," you reminded, "You said you got 'em, right?"

Something flitted across his face that looked hollow- like a younger side of Keigo Takami was looking for help finishing his thoughts. Like he was reverting to a shadow self that was about to cry just feeling you cool down his neck with the clean side of a washcloth.

"I got em." He barely whispered, new frustrated tears flooding his eyes and forcing his brows together. "I did it. I did-- what they wanted me to."

The way he says it is not a victory. It's guilty, not even proud in a sense of justice. It was forced; not unlike a militant following orders.

"The safety commission, keeping folks safe at all costs," you answered for him, forcing his eyes to blink at the name. What crimson feather remained ebbed and rustled on impulse.

Suddenly, he frowned down at his own hands, suddenly wrenching himself free of his damp, tainted gloves, like they were burning him alive the longer they stayed on his fingers.

"Cost them," Hawks croaked, "Wanted t’take ‘em in, make them pay the way we always do. But then they said they're taking the block out- and I couldn't let em- I couldn't let them get you or anyone else--I shoulda felt like a damn hero they say I am."

Hawks shook his head pathetically, nearly collapsing forward at the feel of you raking his bangs back, before he sobbed,

"but I didn't want to. They begged. Couldn’a run when they knew they couldn't win, so they begged. I don't wanna do it this way, don't want it to come to this. I can't keep ending it all just because I can!! I’m no–"

Hawks wipes harshly at his eyes with the heel of his palm, his anger at a tipping point.

Your heart sobers and breaks altogether. He's confessing to you because he knows this whole ordeal is going to be painted so differently by the media in the morning. Heroes have to make impossible calls- and you know his handlers don't make it easier on him when it comes to completing these covert assignments. They’ve essentially given him a license none others do- allowances that dance in the world of grey.

Hawks and heroes like him have been granted permission to take lethal measures. But it’s a grim, fell thought that when you’re in the moment- the choice to kill or stay in your armed hands. The pressure is bound to weigh anyone, make them crack and doubt their sensibilities.

Any bystander would call Hawks heroic for saving more lives than taking them- but fear is what forces him to kill. Fear of loss, of the catastrophic unknown that he continues to fight for faster and faster.

You leveled with Hawks’ sightline, forcing terrified eyes to yours. While the sight of this confident man worn down grieved you, schooling your face and brows to be strong was an easy ask when he needed you.

"I know you didn't,” you affirmed all he said, “You were so brave, Keigo. You were really brave, no matter what. No matter how these fights end. You always are brave."

Keigo listens and heaves an ungodly sound at your words.

Suddenly, he's pulling you close and crying into your chest and you meet him all the way. You lock your grasp around his shoulders gingerly at first afraid to hold too tight. Cradling his head to you and hushing him seems to work for now, since he’s able to speak again after more schooled breaths.

But this reaction from him is far from assured; he’s afraid. Unheard. And it seems with you, he can finally air these harsh truths without outside ears listening in stopping his tongue.

"They don't care how hard it is. They don't care. They just push and push and push me, and 'm tired and it hurts!!"

All you can do is hold him.

"I know, baby,” you barely speak, “I know it does, I know it hurts..."

“It always hurts,” he sobs, “It does every time. When you saw me and you looked at me, and you asked me if it hurt, I lied because I had to. But shit, this hurts…”

Hawks’ heated hands grasp at you: the contour of your body is the altar he's kneeling at- from this very spot of your couch. He's wailing now- half in pain, half in misery of being failed over and over again and only now -in secret- ever receiving someone to listen in return. The sound barely makes noise as its buried in your middle, but it rocks you where you kneel up straight to keep him close.

You let him grieve and hold space for every bit of it. He's never once been this vulnerable with another soul in his life, you’re convinced, and he sounds just so grateful to have your hands on his. Grounding. Giving him relief he's been starving for since you first paid attention to him across that crime scene where you first met.

Once he began mimicking your pronounced breathing he finally starts to feel more calm.

To give him air, you robbed one hand from around him in order to push back some hair from his face and check his temperature. He could actually feel how cool your hands were once he started getting color into his face from his spot at your chest. Drained and pliant, he mumbles something at your sternum, and you ask him to repeat it gently,

“Hands’re cold,” he whispers.

“Oh, m’sorry.”

“No,” he shuts his eyes. "Feels good. You feel so good. The other docs, they're just so-- clinical.. They don't- they aren't gentle. No one feels as good as you do.”

Softness seeps from the very pit of you. What you won’t give to protect this hero now.

You see a slumped pillow at his side and think to use it as a bolster until his back spasms lessen.

"Here, babe. Let's get one of these behind you. You can lay back a bit-"

Hawks chips his chin up to you, a bat of his eyes pleading, ‘don’t go’.

It’s official: you love him.

"I won't go,” you coo down to him, “I won't make you get up. I'll be here. Right here."

You kiss that hot, flushed forehead, and he wants to crumble again by the way you hear him swallow.

“I-” Hawks tries to recover from his overwhelm, "...I need you..."

Your answer would never deny him, "What do you need, pretty bird."

"Need you– hold on t'me." Hawks nuzzles your neck in relief.

"I've got you. I've got you this time. You always have everyone else; now I have you."

This is the way you’d keep him, if he were all yours. After a day of things he’d rather forget, you’d replace them all with kind words and soothing touches that settle his restlessness. To his nature that never stops moving, you’d make it your mission to bring some stillness and comfort to the forefront of his burdened mind.

While you’d love for reality to keep on pause, a flash of movement at the window gave you hope rather than alarm,

“Hey, Kei. Lookie there. You've got a little pile waiting for you~” you nod back to the patio, catching some blips of red near the unobscured vertical blinds. “Would having them back on you help? Make you feel more steady?"

Interest piqued, Hawks sounds pleasantly surprised seeing them with his own eyes.

"Ah. Yeah."

"Wanna rinse off, too? You can; use my shower, get yourself a lil more fresh?” the offer is true and comes from you easily. Happy to offer whatever healing measures possible to him while you wipe away leftover tears from a set of perfectly golden eyes. “I can’t promise I have something that fits you super well, but let’s see what I got.”

You knew the hot water would likely sting his wound, but would also buy him more time before he's ready to fly again and go get checked out more formally.

Still wilty, Hawks gives a comical grimace in the face. “I’d sure hate t’bleed all over your stuff.”

“Stuff can be washed; there’s only one you.”

And at this, he finally looks back up to you like the Keigo you know and sinks at the idea, giving in to the tempting idea. He nods. Any trace of boiled over bitterness in his aura has faded to a low simmer, and has left a warm, comfortable, gorgeous-looking man to peer up at you.

You help him up, open the door once more, and Hawks is able to stand a bit better on his own now with a wingspan full of settling feathers preening themselves into place. Once face to face, he finds his hands are still seeking out your waist, and his face furrows– unwilling to let go fully of his personal painkiller.

You still his hesitation with a mouth’s warm press to his cheek followed by a gentle kiss on the lips. His palms go lax and a moan leaves him softly.

“I'll hold you all you want when you get out,” you whisper gently to him. “No funny business, I promise. Yeah?"

As if he held any true worries.

"Wouldn’t ever mind if you did, dove. But yeah– I’d like that."

With another lingering kiss, you do your utmost to take things as quickly as he can manage for the sake of getting him to rest quickly… but by the way Hawks eyes you from all your puttering about the apartment, he holds no urgency or rush. To the contrary, he's happy going slow and steady while he’s with you.

His hand catches yours any chance he gets until he’s ultimately able to lay his head to rest on you at the first idle moment of the evening. Its in these, the wee morning hours, that he’s eager now to remember this as the first night you got to help him heal and not just recover.

"You sure you aren't rushing it?" the slight worry tinges your sleepy morning voice in just the next few waking hours. All you both had was a glorified nap given his late arrival.

The song of your concern obviously pleases your loving company, as the edges of Hawks’ eyes crinkle at your worry.

"I gotta report in by six. I'll stop at my place, change before I go in, heat up something to eat. And I’ll text you when I get there."

The checklist of answers is sweet and characteristically Hawks, but you hope Keigo hasn’t checked out of your bubble yet.

"Okay. But.. take some time if you can. Come see me if you still need me."

A noticeable fondness settles across Hawks’ devilishly handsome smile, and comes over to cup your face for another coffee-masked kiss.

"I always need you.” Thank you. For everything. "I'll see you soon." I love you.

"See you soon." I love you too.

Weeks pass with Hawks’ semi-regular visits to the apartment, holding you in the kitchen like the lovesick boy he is at heart. ‘Talking work’ he claims, when his higher ups ask him about the delays, but he’s more inclined to slack and slip into far more personal matters as he guides you over back towards the barstools and sits back on one.

A curious mind makes you question why he's pushing the limits of his absence until he pulls you in to completely become flush with him and realize he wants your attention before anyone else’s. He sinks in how you set your hands on his shoulders, smiling like a sweet dope, looking up at you while you check him over.

You know he’s tired from a day on patrol in full sun, but the faint sunburn across his cheeks doesn’t seem altogether too painful. Just needs a decent aloe blend. Still, you ask as you always do,

“How you feelin’, pretty bird?”

And he truly answers honestly now, no bravado for handlers to scoff at or bystanders to placate:

“Better now.”

#keigo takami #hawks #mha hawks #hawks x reader #keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha #bnha

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theostrophywife · 1 year ago

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Hii! Az fluff request here.

I was thinking of the inner circle being out having dinner somewhere and the reader is exhausted. Az notices it and moves his arm for her to lean on him and she falls asleep there, head in az’s arm. Az being all cute w her in front of the inner circle. Or something like that!

Love your writing!!

wake me up.

author’s note: wake up babes it’s time to yearn. this drabble is brought to you by this song.

the shadowsinger could tell that you’d had a long day, but he didn’t realize how exhausted you were until you almost placed the chocolate cake in the sink instead of the dirty dishes. azriel took the dessert tray from your hands and handed you the dishes instead in one smooth move.

you blinked in surprise. “oh, thanks az. soggy cake would’ve made a horrible dessert.”

azriel frowned in concern. “you look exhausted. when’s the last time you slept?”

you wiped your soapy hands on the front of your apron. “always great to hear that i look haggard and tired.”

az’s eyes widened. “i didn’t mean— you always look great — i just…”

the soft little chuckle that fell from your lips instantly relaxed the shadowsinger. “i’m just messing with you, az.” you smoothed down the worried frown lines on his forehead. “don’t worry about little old me. it’s just been a long day, that’s all.”

“if you want to head upstairs and rest, i can finish cleaning up here. the others won’t mind.”

you stubbornly shook your head. “are you kidding? i’m not missing game night. the last time we played poker cas got so mad he flipped a table and got put in time out. it’s worth losing sleep over.” sidestepping the shadowsinger, you finished washing the rest of the dishes. you could’ve easily used your powers, but cleaning always made you feel accomplished. besides, it gave you an excuse to be alone with azriel for a little while longer.

“are you sure? i just don’t want you missing any sleep.”

as you racked the plates, you couldn’t help but smile. this was so typically azriel. always looking out for his friends. “you’re sweet to worry, but really, i’m fine az. now let’s go kick some ass at poker.”

halfway through the game, the shadowsinger was convinced that he should’ve insisted on marching you straight to bed. you were barely keeping your eyes open, yawning every now and then while stubbornly stating that you weren’t even a tiny bit tired.

as expected, the poker game had turned heated fairly quickly. cas and rhys were arguing about some trivial rule, while their mates sighed exasperatedly. mor and amren had completely abandoned their cards all together, choosing to drink their weight in wine instead. despite his brothers argument, the only one close to winning was lucien who winked at elain from across the table. his mate blushed and smiled back before turning her attention to azriel.

she nodded in your direction, slumped form currently growing sleepier by the second. elain patted her shoulder, signaling to the shadowsinger. azriel got the hint and scooted closer to you.

“looks like this game isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.” the shadowsinger set his cards down and moved his arm over the back of the sofa. “you might wanna settle in, this might take a while.”

you watched through bleary eyes as cassian angrily waved his deck in rhysand’s face. the high lord looked affronted, which made you snort in amusement. those two were worse than children.

you yawned once again. “okay, but only for a little bit.” azriel nodded as you curled against him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“finally,” lucien mouthed.

azriel glared at him, which only caused the redhead to smirk. elain elbowed him, but there was a quirk to her mouth that told azriel that she obviously agreed. luckily, you were too sleepy to notice the exchange with the meddlesome couple.

“promise you’ll wake me up, az?” you asked as azriel stroked your hair.

“i promise.”

he’d wake you up eventually. he just didn’t specify when.

within minutes, you were fast asleep on his shoulder. azriel pulled the blanket over you, making sure that you were comfortable and undisturbed. the shadowsinger rubbed circles against your back, lulling you into deeper sleep. you looked so peaceful in his arms. he was so engrossed in you that he didn’t even notice that the whole room had gone quiet.

“well, aren’t you two adorable?” rhys said with a smirk. at some point, him and cassian had stopped arguing and focused their attention on the shadowsinger instead.

“you never hold me like that nes.” cassian teased with a pout.

“that’s because you snore loud enough to wake up the whole damn house,” scoffed nesta. “plus, you drool in your sleep.”

cassian gasped in feigned outrage. the shadowsinger shushed him. “not so loud, cas. you’ll wake y/n up.”

“rhys is right, you know.” feyre whispered. “you two are so cute together.”

“it’s about time you do something about it, shadowsinger.” amren said pointedly.

“it’s obvious that you two have chemistry together,” mor added. “you should ask her out on a date. not your little “just friends” picnics. i mean a real date, like dinner and a nice restaurant and candles and everything. oh my gods, i’ll have to help her pick out a dress!”

“that’s a great idea, mor.” feyre agreed excitedly. “we can all go shopping together.”

elain clapped. “i can put together a bouquet for you! y/n adores roses. especially the ones from my garden.”

“name the place and i’ll handle the reservations, brother.” rhysand offered.

“you’ll have to take her to that new gelato place, too.” lucien suggested. “she’s been raving about it for days.”

azriel rubbed his temples as his friends planned out this hypothetical date that he apparently got no say in. the shadowsinger knew they meant well, but if he was going to take you out, he’d do it on his own terms. plus, it’s not like he’d been thinking about your first date for months now. agonizing, was more like it. everything was planned right down to the last detail.

he just had to suck it up and actually ask.

“thank you for the unsolicited advice,” azriel said dryly. “but i think i’ve got it.”

the shadowsinger lifted you up with ease and walked out of the living room, leaving the rest of his friends to their own devices. he quietly made his way up the stairs, taking great care not to wake you. azriel paused on the top step as you stirred in his arms.

“az?” you murmured softly. it was so quiet he thought he’d imagined it.

“yeah?”

you cuddled against his chest, curling your arms around his neck. “promise you’ll ask when i wake up?”

azriel’s heart stopped for a second. then, sunlight filled his veins as you smiled sleepily up at him. he leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“i promise, y/n.”

#excuse me but what the fuck #i need to scream for a sec #azriel #azriel fic #azriel x you #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger

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twilightkitkat · 2 months ago

Note

Because I love this idea and I want to hear your thoughts on it.

Vanessa's new boyfriend meeting Wade and Logan and possibly not knowing exactly who they were. IE: The boyfriend may know their names but like not who they are

It'd be hilarious, honestly.

The poor guy had heard all about "Wade" through Vanessa. How he was funny and charming and extremely chatty and loud. He knew that Wade and Vanessa used to be together, but that now Wade was helplessly in love with his new boyfriend, Logan.

He'd heard about them as if they were any other people. Sure, apparenylu Wade had his quirks and Logan was a bit weird, but Vanessa wasn't typical either. They all had their oddities, and from what Vanessa's said they were very endearing.

Dermot was kind of excited to meet them, to be honest. Wade sounded entertaining even if he was a little scatterbrained, and Logan seemed to be an honest, down-to-earth type of guy even if he was moody.

He gets dressed up in a polo shirt and khakis to go meet them. He wants to make a good impression on the people in Vanessa's life, and he also kind of wants to make some friends himself. He didn't have anyone he was really close to before Vanessa, and the prospect of getting to be part of the group she spoke so fondly of was very appealing.

And so he knocks on the door and it swings open and... there was Logan. He raised an eyebrow and asked if he was Vanessa's new girlfriend, and Dermot nervously nodded along.

Their apartment was definitely... chaotic, to say the least, but it was cozy. Vanessa settled down comfortably and Dermot followed.

The conversation went pretty smoothly. Wade was just as much of a chatterbox as Vanessa said, and he was surprisingly handsome despite the scarring. Logan was quiet, mainly listening and watching Wade, but he occasionally threw in a sarcastic quip.

Everything went well until suddenly, the door slammed open. In the doorway stood a large, metal man.

Holy shit. Was that Colossus?

Dermot had always been a fan of superheroes, just like most people. He remembered eagerly watching the TV as a kid, seeing their fights, and cheering them on.

And yeah, Colossus might not be Captain America, but he was still fairly well-known. And he was at Wade and Logan's apartment. What the hell?

"We found their base. We need your help," he spoke in a thick, Russian accent.

Wait. Help? What could they do to help? Dermot looked to Vanessa nervously, only to see her completely nonchalant. Like this was an average Tuesday.

"You got it buddy, time to change," Wade said, and then him and Logan went back to their room in a flash.

Dermot was going to ask what the hell was going on until they reemerged just a moment later, wearing... spandex? latex? Whatever material.

Then Dermot really looked at them and what the actual fuck.

Was that The Wolverine? The one who had been thought to be dead years ago, only for him to make a miraculous return a year or so ago?

And was that Deadpool? The infamous mercenary who consistently helped the X-men? Who was practically Wolverine's partner, with how they were always spotted together?

Where did they come from? Where were Wade and Logan? Unless—

Unless Wade and Logan were Deadpool and Wolverine.

As they rushed out of the apartment, Colossus on their tail, Dermot recognized their voices. Recognized their mannerisms and figures.

Vanessa's Wade was Deadpool? The same Wade who cried when he broke his Twilight Sparkle Piggy Bank? And Logan was Wolverine? The same Logan who spent his days woodworking and trying to perfect the art of homecooked meals for Wade?

Wait... did this mean that Deadpool and Wolverine were dating? It would explain the repeated sightings together, but still.

It was odd to think that Logan had been one of the biggest heroes during his childhood. One of the "main" X-men, the one who everyone knew as a hero. It was just as odd to think that Wade, who was just as emotive and endearing as Vanessa had told him, was Deadpool. A mercenary who killed for money but was allowed to roam free because of his informal association with the X-men and his contributions to pushing back villains.

Vanessa used to date a vigilante. And knew it, by the slightly annoyed but not surprised sigh she gave when the door slammed shut.

What kind of danger did that put her in? Hell, what kind of danger did Logan and Wade face on a daily basis? Dermot could never imagine living on the edge, nearly dying just to save a life. He wasn't a bad person, but he wasn't a hero. He was just a guy.

He slowly turned to Vanessa, a thousand questions swirling in his head, but only managed to ask one.

"So, do you know the story of why Wade calls Logan peanut?"

#kitkat #poolverine #deadclaws #deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool movie #wade x logan #wade/logan #x men #vanessa carlysle #deadpool #poor guy is in shock #asks

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loganwritesprobably · 5 months ago

Text

First 'I Love You'

The first time you say I love you, and the first time they say it, featuring Crocodile, Benn and Ichiji

Notes/Warnings: GN!Reader, Alabasta era Crocodile, angst (Crocodile), fluff (Benn & Ichiji), character death, canon-typical violence, minor injury mentioned, Robin and Law as background characters

You say I love you first

It was a fairly normal evening, you and Crocodile were cleaning up and getting ready for bed, tired from a long day of work. You'd been dating for months now, with you having moved into his quarters above the casino a couple of weeks ago. Things weren't moving too fast, or too slow - just right. At least for you. You knew what sort of man Crocodile was, and you were just fine with that. You were less fine with knowing he was keeping secrets from you, but he'd tell you when he was ready.

You pulled your shirt over your head, turning to see Crocodile leaving the ensuite bathroom, ready to get into bed. You approached and wrapped your arms around him, pushing up onto your toes to press a kiss to his jaw. "I'll just brush my teeth." You told him, and he hummed with a smile. "Alright sweetheart." And with that you released him to head for the bathroom yourself. You paused in the doorway, which Crocodile took note of, and stopped before climbing into the bed to look at you expectantly.

"I love you, you know." You said. It clearly look your lover off guard, as he just stared at you, unsure how to proceed. "You don't have to say it back. I just.. wanted you to know." Then you slipped into the bathroom and left Crocodile to process your words.

It took Crocodile quite a while to finally say it back

With Luffy close to ruining all his plans

You still hadn't uncovered all of his secrets, and you didn't think you ever would

Luffy was closing in, you all knew it. For a rookie, the kid was crazy, and honestly kind of scary. You, Crocodile and Robin stood in the grand room beneath the palace, Cobra tied up in a corner and bleeding. You looked at Robin expectantly, waiting for the knowledge from the poneglyph.

"It isn't here." She told you both, turning to you first with a silent apology in her eyes, then to Crocodile with a more cold expression. "Do not lie to me, Miss All Sunday." Crocodile accused, and you reached to take his arm in your hand. "I believe her. It isn't here. But we can keep moving with the plan, with the power of a country we can look els-" You didn't get a chance to finish your sentence.

You looked down and found a knife in your abdomen, and Crocodie's large fingers wrapped around the handle. You slowly traced your eyes up his body until they met his, and he didn't even look remorseful. He let go of you, and you fell to the ground, bleeding. He approached Robin slowly, who was clearly wary and worried for you simultaneously. Two arms sprouted from the ground to press against your wound, all the while she was slowly inching away from Crocodile. Sadly, with her attention split between the two of you, he managed to get her next.

He left Robin on the ground, her extra limbs disappearing from around you so she could focus her energy on herself, and you didn't blame her.

Crocodile approached you again, looming over you with a smirk on his face. "You know, for a moment there, I almost loved you too." He said mockingly. Crocodile crouched slowly downward, and with one of his large hands he scooped your head up until you were close enough for him to press a filthy kiss against your lips.

You hoped Luffy kicked his ass. That was your final thought before your eyes slid closed for a final time.

Benn said I love you first, a surprise to you both

The Red Force had docked at an island to restock once again, having run out of booze a couple of days ago, and you were beginning to run out of food too. Everyone was disembarking to gather supplies and spend some time on land, but you'd managed to injure yourself while sparring with Shanks a few days ago, and you and your sprained ankle were to stay on the ship. It was a bit of a bummer, but at least it meant you didn't have to do heavy lifting. And you got to watch Benn do heavy lifting, which you'd never complain about.

"We won't be long darlin'." Benn called out as he headed for the gangplank. "I'll be here." You replied, lifting the drink in your hand with a grin. "Alright, see you later. Love ya!" He called out and walked away.

You remained there frozen, clearly Benn hadn't quite realised what he'd done, but you had.

But you weren't far behind.

Despite your injury, you put down your drink and rushed to the side of the ship, adrenaline helping you ignore the pain. "Benn!" You called out, leaning over the railing, grinning like a madman. Benn looked back at you, confused and a little concerned. "I love you too!" You said, laughing all the while. Only in that moment did Benn seem to realise what he'd done, and then he was rushing back up onto the ship to scoop you up into his arms and smother you with kisses.

You said I love you first, many times

Despite the way he acted, and the way he'd been raised and created, you knew that Ichiji had the ability to love, somewhere inside of him. You'd seen it in the way he'd hesitate just momentarily if he thought one of his brothers was struggling in a fight, or how he'd choose to take harder battles for himself to keep them safer. The signs were small, but they were there.

He was never outright cruel to you, and that was part of why you stuck by him. He didn't want to be cruel, even though it was what he was trained to do, because a part of him cared for you as much as you did for him. "Have a good day, I love you." You said, waving Ichiji goodbye as he left your shared room for a day of work, grinning all the while.

You didn't care how many times you said it before he said it back, you didn't care if you never said it at all. Being here and happy was enough for you.

And one day, he surprised you

Judge was dead. He had been for a long while. Once he was dead, you and Reiju had been able to begin helping the Vinsmoke brothers heal. You had been the only one to stay in contact with Sanji after he left, the least painful person to talk to since you hadn't been there in his childhood - a safe way to keep an eye on his family. He'd referred you to a 'friend' of his - Trafalgar Law, who apparently was a big fan of Germa, and he was happy to help.

His devil fruit was amazing, and you happily sat back and watched as he ran diagnostic tests, and learned how the Vinsmoke brothers ticked.

"Good news," Law said, "is that you can de-program them, you were right. Bad news though, is that it's gonna take a long time. There's some sort of switch I can turn in their brains, bring back their emotions, but you'll have to teach them to be better, I'd guess. Sorry Reiju-ya, it'll be a while before your brothers are whole." He explained, but that was enough for both of you. It was possible. But then, Law followed with, "It might be easier with Ichiji-ya, since he has you." he directed at you, and that filled you with even more excitement.

You agreed for Law to do what he needed to, and after the procedure the boys slept for almost a full forty eight hours. Law wasn't surprised, or concerned, so you tried to follow his example. He checked them over when they woke, and when he confirmed that physically they were well, he bid you goodbye. This next bit was on you.

"Ichiji." You said softly, sitting beside your lover's bed, reaching out to gently take his hand. "I- I.." He trailed off, looking at you with desperation. You reached up to brush some hair from his face with a smile. "It's okay." You soothed, kissing his forehead. He had nothing to worry about with you. "No- it's not." He growled, and you took his face in both your hands. "I'll wait forever for you, love. It's okay." You soothed again. Ichiji lunged forward to passionately connect your lips, reaching out to pull you onto the bed on top of him, your knees either side of his hips. "I love you." He whispered against your lips, eyes closed against the surge of emotions. "I love you too." You whispered back, eyes brimming with the happiest kind of tears.

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