#where he can soar free from others control

[eggonthemoon]

Heads or Tails…?

click for higher quality (hopefully)

[valeriianz]

Hiii @embroiderling here. For the way you said I love you, can I ask for 31? Or 27. Or 25 😂 all the options are so good 💖

Thank youuuu

Helloooo! So nice to see you after so long! haha 31: In awe, the first time you realised it also, reincarnation au :D

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

“I love you.”

The stranger looks twice at Hob, a beautiful expression of bafflement making his eyes pop.

Hob blinks, the words coming back to him.

“Sorry,” Hob laughs, breathless. He feels a flush growing up his neck. “That just– came out of me. I don’t– here–” Hob scrambles to get his feet flat on the ground and heft himself up halfway, extending a hand to the man he’d crashed into… who looks achingly familiar.

The man, who Hob takes in properly now, hesitantly takes Hob’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled up from the ground, standing now on unsteady legs. They carefully walk out of the bike lane and onto the slightly congested sidewalk. Hob realizes he doesn’t have his scooter until his hand shoots out to catch the thin, gorgeous man, by the elbow as he wobbles a bit.

“Careful.” Hob offers a smile but it feels broken. “You okay?”

The man looks up from the point where they are touching, back to Hob, absolute shock and something like recognition glinting in his eyes.

Hob’s breath catches when he sees that the man is crying. Beautiful blue eyes shine and overflow down pale skin and strikingly sharp cheekbones.

“What’s wrong?” Hob’s grip tightens slightly on the man’s arm while the other hovers between them.

“I don’t know…” The man finally speaks with a voice that sounds like heaven. His fingers shake as he wipes away the tears on his face. “I just feel like…”

His low vibrato cracks as he looks back at Hob.

“Feels like I’ve been waiting an eternity to hear you say that.”

Hob’s jaw drops and his heart soars.

“What’s your name?”

“Dream.”

Hob huffs out a disbelieving laugh.

“It’s– It’s so crazy. I knew that.” Hob laughs properly now at the smile that tugs up the corner of Dream’s lips. “Do you know me? What’s my name?”

Dream’s brows pinch together as he seems to study Hob.

“... Hob.”

The smile that cracks through Dream’s composure is enough to send pin pricks up Hob’s spine, tickling the back of his neck, not to mention how incredibly strange and yet familiar this all seems. Like he’d looked at those crystal blue eyes a hundred times, in a hundred different lifetimes, a hundred different emotions reflected in them.

Then Dream laughs. A bark of laughter that he immediately covers with his hand and finally, for the first time since Hob spoke to him, looking away, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“What’s so funny?” Hob’s smiling so wide he feels his eyes squint.

“I don’t know!” Dream nearly screeches, his visage morphing through something like the five stages of grief before smiling again.

“But…” Dream manages to get himself under control, looking around at the people walking past them, the buildings towering over them, and back to Hob. “It’s a very strange name.”

It feels like an excuse, or some explanation that at least makes sense.

“I love your laugh,” Hob blurts out, feeling more present, all the sudden.

Dream sighs, his body relaxing, like he’s committed to whatever is happening… acquiescing to it. 

“I know you do.”

Hob grins. This is insane.

“Can I take you to dinner?”

Dream’s breath seems to catch, his eyes flicking up and down.

“I feel like you owe me a lot more than dinner.”

Hob laughs again, emotion welling on inside his throat and making his own eyes begin to burn.

“I’m going to make it up to you. God. What is happening right now?”

Dream merely shakes his head, running a hand through his hair and looking around them.

“Are you free tonight? Eight o’clock?”

Hob nods, excitement– like a child, rushes through his veins.

“Let’s meet here,” Dream points to the ground. “... again, if you’re serious.”

Hob nods again. “I’ll be here.”

“Good,” Dream takes a long breath, his eyes seem to burn, instantly watching Hob. “I will see you again.”

An unconscious grin splits across Hob’s face.

“You will.”

[ghostieblr]

Secret Life of Stiles & Derek

IT IS FINALLY HERE! Inspired from this post of mine (of which i posted a sneak peak here)... now i bring to you, the FULL FIC ON A03.

Thank y'all for showing interest in it <3

Here is a little bit of sneak peak:

*

He settles beside Cora, stretches there so his legs open to create space for Stiles. Stiles, who doesn’t even glance at Scott calling his name, too busy in arranging the snacks, and then finding the remote. Derek waves it once, and Stiles beelines for it.

“I want it! I get to choose the film, ok Sourwolf, because I called this pack night!” As he says it, he’s moving forward, and it makes Derek’s heart soar that there’s no second thought before he plops himself down between the V of his legs. Derek hands over the remote.

And of course Stiles puts on Star Wars, Episode III.

“Why.”

“Inflection, Der, use them. They’re the souls—”

“—Souls of language. Yes, I know, Stiles. But I love to—”

“—love to fight against period, commas and question marks because I love to see you squirm.” Stiles recites perfectly, thanks to the number of times they’ve had this argument, and then corrects himself, “I mean, you love to see me squirm, you asshole!”

Somewhere distantly, he hears Scott mutter, “Yeah he is. Come here Stiles.”

Derek puts his free hand around Stiles’ waist and pulls him backwards into his chest, and Stiles lets him do it. He settles firmly in Derek’s lap, like this is the easiest thing to do. It makes Derek happy.

“Now shush, let me watch the credits in peace!”

Derek takes the remote and fast-forwards it.

“Nephew…”

“You’re an idiot,” Cora tacks on to their uncle's reprimand, and then, “Why do you never learn?”

Stiles simply takes the popcorn bowl from his hand and puts it in Cora’s hands. She swats away Boyd’s hands from taking any of it, and then sighs loudly as Derek and Stiles devolve into a wrestling, writhing mass of degenerates beside her.

Stiles emerges victorious and wins the remote, so Derek pulls him in by his hips and wraps his arms around his chest. Puts his head on Stiles’ right shoulder and groans when he rewinds the film back to the starting point.

“Idiot,” Cora mutters, and hands back the bowl of popcorn to Derek. He isn’t really sorry about it, though. And both Cora and Peter know it, so they send him knowing looks which he steadfastly ignores.

The movie begins again. Stiles cuddles closer to him, Derek’s hands on his chest, his hips. Enclosing him in. He turns his head, and their faces are so, so close. Their noses touch. Their eyes are cross-eyed they’re so infuriatingly, blessingly close. Stiles says, “Der.”

He pulls back and picks up a handful of the popcorn, more salty ones than tomato flavored ones — they’re more his favorite, not Stiles’ — from where he’d kept the bowl between him and Cora, and feeds Stiles one by one.

Once the handful of popcorn has been eaten, Stiles turns back, and Derek picks up his own handful. A couple minutes pass by, the world on the screen the only noise, but then Stiles turns around again. He doesn’t say anything, but Derek understands anyways and feeds Stiles. It makes him satisfied in a way he’s both thrilled and concerned about, which basically sums up his life. But in this moment he focuses on Stiles, and the intimacy of their trust, the way Stiles allows him to provide for him. The way Stiles trusts him with these small things, and when it matters, with the big things. Like Stiles’ life.

This time, a murmur kick starts between the betas. Mainly Isaac and Erica, who are trying to tamp down their curiosity but are unable to do so. Boyd isn’t into the gossip, but Derek sees him watching them a couple of times.

On the other hand, he can smell Scott silently fuming, and Allison’s gentle scraping along his scalp, his arms. Trying to control him. Anchoring him. Derek smirks, unable to help the way his chest expands with possessive pride.

“What’s up?” Stiles asks, without turning. His eyes are locked onto the screen.

“Nothing. Just the popcorn’s almost over.” It is. They’re down to two handfuls each.

Stiles pauses the film, never one to miss even a second of it, and scans the coffee table. It’s still full with food. He frowns. “Nobody is eating?”

Nobody is replying, either. Stiles stands up and hovers beside the table, looks at Derek helplessly. He’d brought everyone’s favorite and some extra — he’d planned this down to every last detail. Except, of course, realizing that they don’t know about his and Derek’s history, or their current friendship.

*

You can continue reading it here on AO3.

Tagging the people who wanted me to tag 'em once i posted this fic:

@demonicfaery @lovehahajk @emilyinhouston @jadezdominion @sterekloverforever @hogwarts-starship @deliahale @princecharmingwinks

[sematarygirls]

sonny carisi & sex: an embarrassing exposé on what i think about far too much in my free time.

                   ౨ৎ

sonny carisi's favorite sex position seems to be a divisive topic that i've thought about much myself, and by that, i mean, i made all of that up. i'm actually not sure what the general consensus on what sonny is and isn't into seems to be, but i am here to share my own thoughts and feelings on the topic.

i have done hours of extensive research (watching s16-22 of law and order svu and reading fanfic) and through that, i have determined one very simple fact: sonny is a missionary man, and no, i don't mean in the religious sense.

i believe that ultimately, for sonny, sex boils down to two things: love and intimacy. especially with his catholic upbringing where sex is sacred and a job where he sees violent sex acts every day. he doesn't want to come home and be reminded by the bad parts of human nature. he wants to be reminded of the closeness and the love that two people can share, that sex is supposed to be a fun and joyful thing.

with this in mind, i think that the closeness that missionary provides is the perfect amount of intimacy for a guy like sonny— the eye contact, the feel of his body over yours. he can watch you intently, see your reaction to his every move, guage when he's doing something you like, when he's doing something you don't.

along with that, i really like the idea that he has a little bit of a breeding kink (i hate that word, but my point stands). i think sonny loves kids and dreams of having a big family with you. that leg over the shoulder maneuver, while also great for heightening your pleasure, just so happens to be a great way to get pregnant, or so I've been told. i'm not exactly an expert on all things sex as much as i like to claim to be.

i think i've seen people say he would be fond of doggy, but i respectfully disagree with that idea. i think for him, it would seem too impersonal, almost degrading in a sense. there's not a lot of connection. there's no eye contact. he can't even see his most favorite part about you— your beautiful face. he can't see how it flushes or the way your eyes roll back or that bashful look when he calls you a "good girl" and says you're "doing so well" for him. i think if you enjoyed it, he wouldn't be opposed to it because he just wants to make you happy, but it's far from one of his favorites.

i do think he enjoys you riding him. it has all of the same benefits of missionary, except you're on top. he loves seeing that new angle of you. the way your head falls back, lips parted in pleasure as you set the pace and take control. it does something to him, but ultimately, after a long and stressful day at work, nothing is better than hovering over you and planting kisses over every inch of skin that he can reach while murmuring all about how much he loves you and how you're the perfect girl for him, and that's what makes missionary soar leagues above any other position to him.

[anshares]

Once upon a time, there was a prince most beloved by all.

He was highly doted on by everyone but especially so by two men: his older brother, His Majesty the Emperor, and by his secret suitor, a childhood friend by the name of He Xuan.

By all accounts, Prince Qingxuan should have a blessed life. Unfortunately it was nothing but a wretched beginning,with a wretched end.

His brother, wary of him vying forthe crown, kept him on a tight leash, while the other man in his life perished on the battlefield. To live your life in a guilded birdcage, that is the tale of this prince.

Click more for full plot!

ROYALTY AU (M/M Flavor Beefleaf)

Shi Qingxuan is a royal prince, brother of Shi Wudu the emperor who is known to be a tyrant

He Xuan comes from a military family but he refuses to practice the sword and prefers to read instead.

They first met in the palace as kids when HX was accompanying his father to a meeting and he explored the palace grounds while he waited for his father.

He is reading by the garden and meets SQX there who is playing hooky from royal lessons and from that moment on they become friends. (SQX the talker and HX the listener). Emperor Shi Wudu, seeing that his brother favors this kid, assigns him as his playmate.

Then one day SQX got kidnapped by rebels, HX tried to rescue SQX and found him after a day. They managed to escape from the kidnappers but were found by one of the rebels,

they tried to run as fast they could and managed to lose the guy chasing them but SQX sprained his ankle so HX had to piggyback SQX

luckily they were found by the royal guards and the rebels who dared kidnapped the Tyrant Emperor’s only brother were executed and put on display in the plaza.

Emperor Shi Wudu awards the He family for what their youngest son did and officially appointed HX as SQX future retainer and personal guard, SWD acknowledges how smart He Xuan is and was impressed by his bravery,

he saw potential in him and to HX dismay he has to learn the way of the sword which SQX teased him over because he kept whining about it during their breaks or sparring sessions.

As they grow up they become inseparable and people talk about how incompatible they are, like how the young prince who is beloved by everyone is with this gloomy person but it works. They are closer as ever CLOSER than anyone thinks.

They sometimes have a rendezvous in the library where they “study” or at the garden where SQX likes picking his favorite berries. SQX feeds HX one and he sucks the leftover juice in SQX finger which leaves him flustered.

The truth is they have been in a relationship for years now but they just hide to protect SQX reputation, as their genders and status won't let them be accepted by society and it will cause quite a scandal.

Hx and sqx also have talks on having life outside the palace and he sees that sqx is not really fond of palace life, and sqx admits that there are times where he just wants to run away from it all but he can't

Contrary to popular belief, emperor swd is known as a tyrant and his brother is no exception to the treatment. As his brother constantly watches sqx every move and punishes him even for the slightest mistake,

making sqx doubt himself and belittling him to the point where sqx life is controlled by swd.

This makes sqx be easily influenced that he himself even forgets he has choices on the matter.

All he knows is that his brother controls his fate, his marriage and as a prince he has a duty to his country, he can't entertain selfish thoughts which is why these few moments of reprieve where he could spend his time with his lover dreaming about life outside the palace is all he could do,

there's nothing bad with just dreaming inside his gilded cage with his lover by his side, he feels like he can soar free.

Even with HX gloomy countenance he is quite popular among the ladies that there were also rumors how HX is gonna be engaged to a woman he is usually seen with and visits his house

but in truth he just treats the girl as a younger sister and is actually from the family where his own sister is getting engaged to.

During a marriage interview where SQX meets with his possible marriage candidates he meets the rumored girl as she was part of the selection. She asked about HX to SQX and disclosed her true feelings about HX.

SQX assumes that something is going on between them and with how the rumors are, SQX gets worried about this so he asks about it to He Xuan, HX assures him that nothing is going on between him and the lady.

SQX is a little bit jealous so HX smirks and “do you want me to show you how much I love his highness” and they proceed to have a passionate night where they assure each other that they are the only ones they will love and be loyal too.

They actually talk about running away from the capital and just settle down in a rural village without their statuses getting in the way they'll just be Shi Qingxuan and He Xuan, just 2 normal people but skirmish/war with the rebel army happens so they have to draft up every son in each family.

It is also perfect opportunity for Shi wudu to get rid of a pest that might ruin his brother’s reputation because he learned of his brother's growing affection for HX since a palace maid witnessed one of their “study” sessions

so he dispatches him to the front lines at the border where he is the appointed strategist. SQX is not aware that SWD knows about their secret tryst.

Before HX leaves, SQX makes him promise to come back alive because he has something to tell him, HX asks why wouldn't he just tell him now SQX says it isn't the right time and at least he will have motivation to come back as soon as he can to the capital.

He was actually going to tell him “I love you” since they hadn’t said it to each other yet, SQX also requests that he write often, HX does but it gets intercepted by SWD and alters the contents so it'll look like HX is gradually changing his mind about their relationship.

Unfortunately HX dies in war with a lot of arrows in his back (like the visual in bloody festival) he tries to get back to camp but with his heavy injuries he won't survive,

he knows this but still tries because he promised SQX he will come back, he hasn't heard what SQX wants to say yet and it seems important.

SQX won't hear news of his death, Shi wudu will keep it under wraps and make up a story on why HX is getting transferred. He tried to ask around and find out why HX hasn't come back yet even though the war is over.

All SWD said was for their service to the country the He family was granted a piece of land to a far away place. HX decided to settle there and get married which was impossible since HX promised SQX,

did he change his mind after being away from each other for years, is this why his letter gradually stopped and the contents were not as sweet as they were during the first year.

SQX can't go out and check it out himself with no good reason, so he look at records and stuff everything checks out, he is hurt but he is glad that at least HX is alive and well somewhere even tho far away from him,

SQX doesn't want to get in the way of HX happiness even if they grew far apart from each other so he decides to let him go but SQX doesnt know that the reward also doubles as compensation for the grieving family and that the family decided to leave the capital because of painful memories.

At the end SQX monologues if it was a sin of falling in love with HX since they are both men and how he wishes in the next life he can love him freely without their status getting in the way and being condemned by society.

Epilogue:

SQX finally gets to go out for inspection and it's in the city where He Xuan's whole family relocated he was all cheerful like even tho HX is probably married now at least he can still visit as his friend as long as he is happy and healthy even if it wasn't with him that's all that matters

so when he asks the parents where he xuan is…. it got sus cuz why the home is so gloomy then he sees the family shrine…..with He Xuan's tablet in it.

SQX is shocked and can't believe what he is seeing because how could that be?? Were all the things his brother said to him are lies all these years….

Sqx didn't even know he had already lost hx years ago, did he die swift and painless, did they find the body in the battle field and give him a proper burial. He wasn't even able to give his lover respects and he couldn't even see him one last time because of her brother's intervention.

What about those letters then? Were they really from he xuan??

and then realizes it's indirectly his fault. He connects the dots and realizes that it's swd's fault but the blame doesn't just falls on his brother but also him for he wasn't strong enough to defy his brother,

didn't fight harder to ensure his lover's safety, he shouldn't have been ignorant, he should've have been more observant, he should've been more…..Then hx mom interrupted his spiraling thoughts as she noticed how pale and shocked the prince looked.

Hx mother knows how close she is with her son so finding out hx this way is shocking.

" Your highness, I wanted to let you know that he died honorably in battle protecting the city and its people.

They were able to find his body and give him a proper burial.

I can't thank the emperor enough for bringing my son home. Also I wanted to give you this, it was one of A-xuan's belongings, a journal. I think it may be best if his highness hold on to it."

After he paid his respects and did his exception he left the city with a heavy heart he didn't expect this outcome. As he journeys back to the capital, he opens HX journal. Its full of entries of hx listing everything that reminded him of sqx,

like how he saw the wildflowers that he used to collect for him to make into a crown as kids, how a nervous soldier reminded him of sqx's inability to lie, how he noticed sqx's influence in choosing the meals sent to the soldiers, etc.

Growing up as royalty he was thought to have a good handle on his emotions but he couldn't after reading the journal and so he broke down,

he sobbed and called out to he xuan even though he knows no one will answer anymore when he calls out the name. He just lets out all his grief, anguish and love lost.

When he calmed down he made a promise that he will devote himself to serving the people better so that they're not left at his brother's mercy and tucks the journal safely back to his sleeves as he sees the capital over the horizon.

-THE END-

[nomsfaultau]

Hybrid AU in exile week where avian instincts can take over to a degree that is almost horrific, erasing someone’s personality and rationality when they’re panicking. First part here.

Slowly, Tommy loses his ability to properly react to pain. It doesn’t matter how it happened, a stray TNT blast or a slap from getting mouthy. Where once he would’ve responded with spitfire and anger, now he simply shuts down, trapped crying for his abuser. He is incapable of being soothed by anything but him.

Once, his abuser watched as his distressed chirping began, and then simply walked away. It was like he couldn’t think or move at all, frozen in place as he cried for help. Trapped in his instincts until his abuser finally came back much later. In the blurry cage of panic, Tommy remembers him just out of reach, silently watching his distress. Content to leave him imprisoned in it, even if Tommy was trapped in that tension for over an hour and each chirp hurt his sore throat. His entire body hurt so much after trembling for so long. The fact he’d been stuck like that for hours was terrifying. What if his abuser abandoned him for good, just like everyone else? Would Tommy be trapped crying forever? Tommy hates that he just let himself be defenseless, hates his abuser for leaving him like that for so long.

And yet Tommy can only seem to care about the rumbling mimics of coos vibrating the chest he was pressed to afterward.

Tommy goes through exile very confused, scared of the instincts that keep bursting out of him. They don’t match how he feels at all, like the happy little chirps that he tries to smother every time his abuser returns. Unless that’s how he really feels? He can’t tell. Everything gets so bad when his abuser is gone, until Tommy feels sick with yearning, with dread. Everything soothes when he’s around, knowing he promised to keep Tommy safe with the feathers he wears. All his confusion and fear is smothered by his avian instincts, just like his abuser planned.

Tommy is scared and feels like he’s losing control of himself. His solution is the tower, because maybe the instincts won’t notice since avians are supposed to like high places, even if he’s a pathetic excuse for one. He can't even fly, his abuser says he's too weak to. All he does is freeze up and make annoying chirping sounds that are headache inducing, just like every other sound Tommy makes.

But then he gets up, and the world is just so beautiful from a bird’s eye view. As the epiphany strikes about how his abuser is manipulating him and his instincts, it’s paired with this feeling like he’s ready to leave the nest. His abuser is wrong about everything, he’s strong and independent and capable. Finally his instincts are only boosting what he really feels, instead of fighting to keep him meek and reliant. His abuser was wrong, he can fly. His wings flair, ready to soar.

Tommy plummets.

His desperate flapping only barely saves him from immediately dying. Fragile avian bones snap on impact. He’s scared and depressed and in a lot of pain, so his instincts take over, eyes dilating and feathers fluffing up. Tommy probably could drag himself back to Logchestire and bandage himself up, but his instincts are overpowering and cause him to completely freeze. All he can do is chirp, but for once his abuser didn’t cause the pain so he’s not there to soothe Tommy’s panicked instincts. He’s not coming.

Or perhaps, he knew Tommy was trying to fly away, and decided to give him the independence he foolishly yearned for. His instincts knew he couldn’t survive on his own, needed someone to protect and nurture him. Why hadn’t he listened to them?

In some hazy back corner of his mind, Tommy hates that he’s like this. He knows no one is coming, and yet he can’t break out of the cage of his hatchling instincts. In trying to become free, Tommy only proved his abuser right about everything.

What Tommy doesn’t know is that in one of the grooming sessions his wings were clipped.

Next>

[thewertsearch]

AT: [...] mY TAKE ON THIS IS, AT: tHAT YOU CREATED OUR IMPOSSIBLY HARD BAD GUY, wHO WANTS TO KILL US, AT: aND BY ASSOCIATION, i GUESS THAT MAKES, AT: yOU THE BAD GUY TOO, AT: iNSTEAD OF A GOOD GUY WHO'S JUST MEAN, AG: Nice deduction! AG: Wrong, excruci8tingly linear, and laced with the sort of a8solutes morons like to throw around…….. AG: 8ut nice!

"Only a loser deals in a8solutes!"

It's hard to characterize Vriska as cleanly as Tavros is trying to - but we don't need to psychoanalyze her to know she's a liability. Vriska is actively impeding the team's attempts to deal with Jack, and she's not even pretending to blame causality anymore.

AT: i THINK, AT: i AM GOING TO HAVE TO STOP YOU, [...]

I like where your head's at, Tavros - but if you really want to stop Vriska, then you should drop that lance and run.

Make a beeline for the common room, and explain to Karkat that Vriska caused the Mistake. He'll fly into an incandescent rage, rallying the remaining trolls against her - including Terezi, who can actually stand up to her.

If you fight her yourself, you're fucked. An analysis would be a complete waste of time, and not just because your psionics are useless here. I could give you Bec, and I'd still bet on Vriska.

AG: Tell you what. AG: If you can find me in this la8, you can have at me. AG: I'll even give you a free shot! No funny 8usiness or anything.

Lady, you can survive a bomb to the face. This 'free shot' business is basically just a taunt, and everyone knows it but Tavros.

AT: oK, AT: tHEN, AT: hERE i COME,

Damn it, this is not where you want to be aiming your confidence. You can still reconsider. Please reconsider.

Or maybe you can take her, I dunno

Hello, Jade. What business could you possibly have with your other self?

More extracanonical shenanigans from Hussie, I take it.

Looks like this recap's going to be Vriska-themed. She seems to be controlling Hussie to write it, so I hope it's from her PoV - I have a feeling she'd be a very funny storyteller.

Not even Fantastica is safe from Lord English.

THE WINDY THING subsides, and clear skies prevail. You soar to the highest rung, and rule over your echeladder as the HEIR TRANSPARENT.

John's hit the level cap already?

Davesprite was killing Underlings for months, and he never hit his. Maybe he didn't have access to as much EXP, since his Underlings were only triple-prototyped.

You can also gain Echeladder levels by completing non-combat objectives - so actually, maybe Davesprite just didn't hit the proper milestones. His session was incomplete, after all.

With the Reckoning ticking down, the Players need to rush through the story, so they're probably just hitting Echeladder milestones offscreen.

The clouds have returned. The fireflies are still trapped. The spell remains unbroken.

Send all the hurricanes you like, John. Typheus yet lives, and the sky remains his domain.

[mintmatcha]

the pursuit of silence (and all the noise along the way)

nanami kento x reader

part two: fissures (and where they shouldn't be)

CW: cisfem reader, Space AU (vaguely Star Wars. Vaguely), reader has a cybernetic limb. slow burn. Reader has an established nickname and is referred to using Miss and Mrs.

JJK AU MINORS DNI

masterlist

The ship you’re ushered to is much nicer than anything you’re used to flying. It’s sleek and polished like a dream-- there’s even that stiff, earthy, chemical smell of newly processed leather. Haibara and Itadori must be absolutely buzzing with jealousy; you've never touched anything this advanced, let alone either of them. 

 It takes a second for you to marvel over the system before you take your seat. Luckily, manual controls for all flying vehicles are pretty much standardized, so you easily flip yourself into gear, then the star ship. The engine hums, a tape of music crackles to life and you almost feel normal.

But this isn't like any of your normal loads. You’re used to cargo that doesn't move or talk, piles of who knows what that sit in the back. Special passengers are usually reserved for pilots that have that shine in their eyes, that desirable something you just don't have.

When you were new, they had you fly a Jedi to some forest planet. He was a man with hair darker than the sky and earlobes stretch wide enough your finger could have slipped through. He had ducked himself into the back of the ship without a word, not even sparing you a parting glance when he departed hours later. It was like you weren't even human-

or, based in the whispers around him, too human. 

Back then, the disdain that surrounded him cut deep, but those wounds have long since healed and the scars are thick enough to guard your feelings. 

Nanami boards, walks directly to you and says. "Thank you, I'm ready whenever you are."

Like it’s nothing.

He stands there, a bound booklet in hand, waiting for you to respond. A delicate pen is tucked into the binding, nib red with ink. That pen has touched papers more important than anything you’ll ever do with your life.

Nothing proper comes to mind, so you just nod to the Senator, kurt and quick.

The only other seat in the cockpit is to your right. You think that he can’t possibly want to sit there, so close to you, but then he does, buckling himself in like he could ever possibly belong here, with you. The trim of his coat brushes against your leg. It’s a simple, innocent touch, but  your brain immediately betrays you. It goes blank mid pretest, sputtering over the fact Nanami Fucking Kento is less than four feet away from you. A bundle of papers is tucked under his arm, a delicate pen trapped into the binding, and your heart soars at the sight of it. 

There’s a crackle over the transmission giving you clearance for take off. That’s just enough to snap you back into place. Work, you remind yourself, this is just work. You mumble a confirmation into the receiver and force a couple of even breaths.

A couple of switches and calmly flashing lights are all it takes to embark. Thrusters off, traction down, engines on and clear-- before you know it, you’ve slipped  out of the hanger and into the gravity free drift of space. Then, with a couple more steps, the slipstream of hyperspace pulls you in. 

Despite Haibara and Itadori’s protests, flying truly isn’t difficult. It’s a groove you slide into, a space that your brain clicks into, a version of yourself that just activates when you need it. Flying makes sense, more than anything on the ground ever did. 

Most importantly, space is quiet. It’s eerie, how it almost crackles with nothing, a fog of sounds that pass by too quickly for anyone to ever make out. It’s peace, it’s joy, it’s everything you wish you could hold in your fingers-

Senator Nanami sighs to himself and you are immediately, violently uncomfortable with the lack of words coming from your mouth.

“I’m sorry for the lack of official transport, sir,” you say, before you can stop yourself.

“Don’t be.” Nanami doesn’t look up from the paper he’s reading. His glasses sit above the ridge of his nose, angled low. It reminds you of an old man, but in a charming way. The angles of his face are classic and sharp, familiar in ways you’ve seen before and long to see again, but his nose is off kilter, bumped slightly at the top from a break that happened years ago.

“Haibara speaks highly of your abilities, Mrs. Nine,” he continues, tapping his pen against the paper. He pauses slightly, then circles something in bright red. The delicate curve of his wrist, the way his thick fingers so carefully hold together: how the mighty have fallen-- you’re finding this erotic somehow. You need to get laid the second you get back on base.

You’re staring. You snap your attention back to the front.

“Mei Mei also had good things to say about you,” he continues, “So far, I am not disappointed.”

Your ability to get off the base impressed him. The Senator must have low standards.

“Thank you, Mr. Senator.” You manage to keep your voice even and professional. Despite how strange your chest feels. 

“Nanami is fine, Mrs. Nine.”

“Miss.” You shift in your seat and the leather creaks under you with an embarrassing sound,  “It’s, uh- Miss. There's no Mr. Nine or anything.  Nine’s not even my name- it's just a call sign.”

Your hand slips off of the control. Your whites have gone pale from the pressure of squeezing. 

“‘Cause like, I’m Pilot 333, and three plus three plus three is nine. So, they call me Nine. Sometimes Niney.” You’re talking, but your brain has left the building.  “It’s stupid. Haibara came up with it when we were newbies and it stuck. I don’t even think people know my real name, to be honest.”

He hums a sound and it immediately silences you, jaw audible snapping shut. "It suits you, Miss Nine."

Your cheeks might be on fire. This is everything you ever wanted, and yet your brain is betraying you. The Senator -- no, Nanami, he’s letting you refer to him casually-- is so far about your station, so much better than you by employment alone, and yet he’s looking your way, expression neutral and yet, almost, perhaps, soft-

"I really like jizz,” you blurt out. 

Nanami slowly looks up over his glasses, eyebrows raised so high that his forehead creases a million times over. He parts his lips and then closes them with a befuddled sound, then opens them again.

"Excuse me?"

"Jizz?" you gesture around the cockpit, "The music-- it's called jizz."

"Oh," he clears his throat twice, then a third time, "On my planet, that is a colloquial term for- never mind. The music is fine. Please, don’t say jizz."

The next seven parsecs are almost completely silent, covered only by the upbeat swagger of jizz.

Lighting yourself on fire might be a less painful experience. 

The next four hours are marked by only a few distractions. Hyperspace is filled with the silence you used to crave, but you can’t focus on that. Instead, you’re lost in how the pit smells like some sort of sultry, woody tone, almost like Spice but with an herbier finish. It’s just a drop in the air, something that you almost have to search for, and that gives it that luxurious edge that most men miss. Restraint, you think, it’s applied with restraint.

You want to ask what scent he’s wearing, but you can’t find the nerve to speak again. 

You’re going to have to ask Haibara what jizz means.

Judging by the Senator’s pink cheeks, it’s nothing good.

Does jizz smell good?

Nanami hasn’t written anything for the better part of two hours when you blink into the outer orbits of his planet. The fall out of the pocket is a bit abrupt, bad enough you both get caught by your seatbelts. Mei Mei will scold you about that when you return. Usually you’re so smooth with it-- you blame the fact this is a new ship.

From a distance, the planet is just a dark, blanketed ball, hanging around a singular red sun. It’s massive, easily three times the size of your own planet-- twice the size of Coursant! A moonless planet, forever alone in the sky, it orbits all on its own.  

Somehow, you’re disappointed. This isn’t the jewel you were promised. There’s no strings of lights or flashing megas cities like the other vacation planets you’ve seen. It’s just quiet, simple, and storming.

“We are arriving.” You stress the ‘are’ a bit to be playful, but it doesn’t sound natural. He hums an agreement and you dive down.

The atmosphere is thicker than you imagined, but it’s no issue. Clouds have their tells- bumps where pockets of pressure are waiting to tilt your ship, smooth bits where the air is much colder than the rest. You’ve known how to speak their language since you first sat in this seat, so you listen and descend. The Nav systems buzz and crackle with an irritating amount of static, so you manually flip them off.  They weren’t going to get used anyway.

The clouds give way and you emerge into the planet proper. 

“Oh, Maker.”

“What's wrong?" Nanami’s head shoots up, grabbing his seatbelt in preparation,"I told you the Navs wouldn’t work-"

“No,” you cut him off, “It's just beautiful.”

Rolling hills go on as far as the eye can see, crescendoing into mountain ranges and wooded peaks, powdered by drifting white flakes. Snow. You've never seen snow in person before. Even through the quilted sky, fragments of sunlight illuminate golden soil, painting the world with a spectacular depth. A long time ago, on Naboo, you had seen someone bathe their entire canvas with ochre, brushstrokes so thick  the cotton canvas’ texture was lost. Then, with a mastery you didn’t think possible from droids, let alone organics, he built the scenery on top, forming art with only a backlight of sunshine. That art, purchased with too many credits and carried home wet, was nothing compared to this.

The craft hovers as you drink it in. Night is approaching, touching the edges of what you can see.

“I thought it was going to be like Canto Bight.” You swivel to get a better look. There’s dots of lights, simple towns scattered across the landscape like glow worms on their strings, “But it’s not at all.”

“The bigger cities are starting to look that way, but we’ve been passing legislation to protect the natural aspects.” Nanami’s voice is warm. He’s moved to the edge of his seat, straining and watching as if he’d never seen any of this before. “Our main revenue is tourism and it’s done our world so much good, but it means nothing if we lose the core of what this planet is.”

Snow vibrates in the air, carried upwards by the draft your vessel has created. It’s like hyperspace with its swirls and streaks, a simple beauty you forgot could exist. In the distance, beyond the curve of  the world, a blue glow tinges the horizon. A city, cloaked in the night that rolls in. It’s nothing compared to what’s in front of you, you’re sure.

"It's nothing special."

“Are you kidding?" you breathe,  “It's a gem.”

“Thank you.” You can see him turn to you in your peripheral, lingering for a long while before speaking. “Can you believe this is considered our worst season?”

“How could it possibly get better?”

Nanami doesn’t turn away, silently studying your profile. You can make out how his eyes, just as pale and sapphiric as the frozen landscape, bounce back and forth, searching for something in your features.

He doesn’t turn away.

Why doesn’t he turn away?

Panic that you’re being weird sets in again. Was that childish? Did you embarrass yourself without even knowing? Suddenly, your clothes feel coarse and cheap against your skin and the air feels unbearably hot. As much as you try to escape it, the scent of it must cling to you- that Outer Rim nobody stench.  

Of course it's strange that you're marveling. Thousands of tourists visit every year and you can bet that none of them care about the landscape. 

Oh, Maker. Nanami Kento is the one behind the spike in tourism. Insulting the city like that must have come off as an insult about him.

You long for the rainy surface of home, where the only thing you could smell was the iron rich mud. 

“Where should I land?” You try to regain your composure. The rims of your eyes burn a bit as an unknown cacophony of emotions begins to rise up. 

The man lingers a second more before sliding back into his chair, neck rolled back to watch the ceiling.

“Sixty clicks behind us.” 

His voice isn’t sweet anymore. 

The burn grows stronger. You never let your hopes rise, and yet they fall further still, dug into the ground under the boot heel of disappointment. 

. . . . . . . . .

The landing pad is carved out of a stretch of mountains. The dusted blanket of snow is pushed aside into uneven piles as your craft settles down, only slipping slightly against the iced over stone. The engine hums with an uneven thrum, pulsing then sputtering in a way you expect from a motorbike, not an advanced transport vessel. An unsettled feeling sits in your stomach as you flick through the power down procedures, sliding off the traction and turning off the friction reducers, cutting off fuel and limiting battery. 

Errors aren't common. There might not even be one, but something sticks in your gut like glue, refusing to be digested. 

Nanami seems unaffected. It's easy to chalk the uneasy nature of the landing to pilot error. He ghosts a finger over the papers once again, pretending to proofread once again. You doubt there's anything left for him to even discover in that text.

 Everything on the dash is green, happily blinking in placid paces. If something were wrong, you'd be seeing orange lights, stroking, or--

“Oh, shit."

Or that. You shoot up to examine the gauges more closely. One strip of lights right above you is completely dark, the lights burnt out. One of the fuel meters is powered all of the way down, arrow pointing past empty.

 Spaceships don't consume fuel the way a gasoline based engine does, they run partially on hypermatter: fragments of planetary core, augmented and altered in ways engineers couldn’t even begin to explain to you. The resulting thick slurry produces energy with such a high frequency that a ship can then enter lightspeed in hyperspace. Most ships can run on a sliver of it for lightyears, but the power supply isn’t endless. Cores do still need to be replaced quite frequently, especially nicer vehicles like this one. 

According to this little meter, yours should have been replaced a long time ago. “Oh, shit.”

The Senator sits up, gripping the arms of his chair. When he realizes you’re on the ground, he relaxes, but only barely. 

“Nothing major, just-” God, he’s going to think you’re incompetent. How did you not notice this before? The Out Station is one of the few places in the Inner Rim to easily refuel-- there’s no way you left with a battery so low.   “Uh-”

You’re trying to think and talk at the same time, but failing at both. You had to have checked this before you left. You had to. You had to.

“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it.”

Apparently, you aren’t convincing. 

“I will be worrying about it, so please just tell me.”  Nanami closes his book with a clap.

“I think the hypermatter is almost depleted,” you admit, flicking the meter as if it’ll make the arrow move.  “Or there’s something wrong with the generator. I’m-- I’m not sure.”

“You aren’t sure?” Nanami parrots, voice pressed and deep.

“I’m a pilot, not a mechanic.” You try to walk away, stumbling over your seatbelt on the way. Above the doorway is a tiny toolbox, simple but effective for minor emergencies. Minor being the keyword. You can tighten a bolt, not fix a warp drive. “I’m just guessing."

The door slides open and the bite of cold air immediately eats into your cheeks and peels your lips, but you press forward, ignoring how your body immediately protests. Both your planet and the Out Station are tepid all year round; you knew snow was cold, but you didn’t realize cold could be painful. Those romantic snowflakes are crystalline weapons in the wind, cutting into your face. No wonder this isn’t considered ‘peak season.’ The cold snatches the breath from your lungs and the flimsy material of your fly suit does nothing to stop it as you jump to the ground. Snow is also slick and you just barely save yourself from falling on your ass. It takes everything in you to walk normally to the hull and begin unscrewing the flap.

Boot steps on the bridge surprise you. Wind tousled and perfectly bracing the weather, the Senator stands at the door, peeking down at you. He’s pulling on a thicker coat and gloves, things you didn’t even know he packed, as he tucks his chin into the fur trim. 

“It’s okay! I’ve got it covered!” you call. The weather might crumple him if he's not careful.

Nanami narrows his eyes as if he knows what you’re thinking and then jumps as well. He handles the ice with much more grace than you with no sign of shivering. Right- this is his home. You’re the one from a hot planet. 

“I just gotta look and make sure it’s not leaking, but I really can’t do anything beyond basic repairs,” you explain, teeth chattering between words, “Do you know any engineers that could possibly…?”

“The only place would be in the city," he says, coat pulled tight. He leans over to inspect, then shakes his head; the law is his wheelhouse, not this. “And I’m afraid that would cost you an arm and a leg.”

“Well, I can’t afford another leg," you blanch, "This one was 200 credits."

He stares at you blankly.

"Because my--"  Bad joke. Instead of explaining, you go back to work.

A couple more twists and the hull pops off suspiciously easy in your hands. Not a good sign. The wiring isn’t neatly draped as it should be, but tangled, the plastic casings cracked and faded. When you push them aside, bits of red and blue crumble into your palm and even more descend into the depths of the engine.  Your legs are bouncing with shivers, the muscles twitching desperately as you scramble for answers. When the way is clear, you shimmy your torso into the hole, moving more bits and pieces until the hyperdrive is fully exposed. 

“Be careful,” The Senator warns. 

The parts of a spaceship are complicated, filled with superconductors and alluvial dampers and inertia controls. You aren’t entirely sure which part is which, but you know the hypermatter core.

And you know it’s not supposed to look like that.

Fragmented glass still holds its shape, but the broken bits are opalescent with pearled beads of liquid. You dip a finger into it and your skin vibrates, physically shaking so hard that the edges of where you begin and the world ends are untraceable.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Your breath curls up as you speak, “Yeah, she’s leaking. Damn.” Cursing makes you feel better, “Damn, damn, damn, shit, it’s eaten into the stellar fuel container too."

There's no way this thing can run. It can't even hold fuel.  Hopefully it holds heat well enough that you don't freeze over before help can come. On second thought- maybe it would be nice to freeze to death. Sounds better than dealing with Mei Mei when you get back.

"It must have been on the fritz and the last slip out of hyper must have pushed it over the edge," you reason. 

“I’ll contact your Out Station and have them send over a new ship to get you home,” Nanami says, shuffling closer. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

A chill has already set into your knuckles, stiff and harsh. You peel back another panel, the metal almost crumbling in your weakened grip. Maker, you almost killed a fucking Senator. If this trip was any longer, you could have been absolutely space dust. 

“It’s okay, sir, I can handle this,” you lie as you blindly twist at spark plugs and knock against the chipped core. Yup-- that sound means this is way above your paygrade.

“You don’t have a jacket and it’s freezing.” Nanami steps towards you, bending over to see for himself,  “Besides the point, hypermatter is toxic. If there’s a leak, you shouldn’t be- well, don’t touch it.”

You pull back your hands from the glass. The Station’s probably been leeching this shit into your water for years; a little more can’t hurt you too much, but the blonde doesn’t seem to agree. He’s on you in three wide strides, taking you by the jumper’s pocket and firmly pulling you from the hull. When you’ve been freed, he clutches your elbow and half bends, just enough to grab a handful of snow and dump it into your bare hand. At first, you feel nothing but fine grit, but as he quickly brushes away the snow and melted bits to replace it with another, the buzzing in your skin pauses. The following chill drives into your senses like a knife. You curl on to your toes reflexively with a whine, but his grip holds you in place. Your other hand clamps down on something as your whole body clenches, curling in towards him reflexively. Maker, you might actually freeze to death; the panic that was keeping you warm was faded, draining through your now sopping wet hand.

Nanami isn’t fazed by your antics. He stays focused on cleaning your hand with handful after handful until he’s satisfied. With every huff and grumble, a smoke of his breath whisps away, brushing by your nose. It’s how you realize you’re so close to him, practically breast to breast. 

“You’re worse than Haibara, I swear,” he chides and his warm breath tickles your cheek again. His teeth close on the leather of his free hand and tug, popping it off of his hand. Rather awkwardly, he jams it on to your hand, none of the fingers finding their holes, “Touching literal poison-- do you have a death wish?”

You're frozen in place and you're not sure you can completely blame the weather.

 “A little,” you manage.

He shoots you a glare. Frost litters his eyelashes. 

“Come on,”  he tugs, “We're going."

"The ship-” The hull is open and collecting snow, the metal already cold enough for ice to stick. 

"-isn’t going to get fixed today." he finishes, “Standing out here isn’t going to fix that.”

“I--” Objections don’t come to mind. The weather must be eating your brain cells too.

“Fine,” you relent, “We’ll call inside.”

“Good.” Nanami nods, “Now Iet go.”

It takes you a second to process. What?”

Nanami gestures down. “Let go of my coat.” 

You realize your hand didn’t clutch the air, but him. Your joints protest as you force your fingers open, releasing the front of his coat, but Nanami doesn't immediately pull away. His gloved hand finds yours, smoothing the knuckles in an overly tender act.

"Your skin is already chapped," he notes under his breath. He frees his other glove and slips in onto you, then goes for the zipper of his coat. Before you can protest, he's gathering the hide and fur in his hands. 

“I couldn’t possibly-” 

“I am the Galactic Senator of this planet,” Nanami says firmly, but with no bite. He throws the jacket over your shoulders. It's oversized and long on him; on you, it trails the ground.  “And I insist that you acquiesce."

Without protection, the weather is getting to him, stripping his cheeks pink. The fog of his breath sticks to his glasses, crystalline patterns forming across their plane. The cold has reclaimed its beauty once again.

“I don't know what acquiesce means," you say, "But okay, Senator."

Fine lines crinkle at the corners of his eyes. “I told you to call me Nanami.”

“Yes, Nanami.”

 He slides the zipper of the coat up. "Let's go, Miss Nine."

part one | part three

[butterfly-writer]

thank you!! <3 i have an idea for a request, but dont feel forced to do it pls! hawks is my favorite character, and i was thinking:

a younger male reader (not like tiny child, but tween sort of?) who has a wing quirk, not as powerful as keigos because since readers little he cant really fly yet, he has lil baby wings. but hawks is his favorite hero and he looks up to him due to their quirks being similar, he also doesnt have a good home life so he runs away and bumps into the said hero. keigo feels kinda protective because of their quirk similarity and he can also sympathize to having a similar past, he comforts him/or maybe takes him with him? aghhh im bad at writing, i hope it mqde sense ^^"

TLDR: child male reader with wing quirk runs away from home due to bad conditions and keigo starts feeling really fatherly or protective, if not taking him home then at least letting him stay near and comforts him. i hope you have a lovely night/day <33

Two birds of a feather

Hawks x Teen!Male!Reader [PLATONIC]

Summary: A teen with wing quirk runs away from home due to bad conditions and a bird friend helps him out.

★☽A/N: Hawks is also my favorite character! Thank you so much for the request! I haven’t written anything different from the series request I got so this is a bit of a refresher! I have been reading this fanfic on wattpad named Green Smog and I can’t help but feel my writing is inferior compared to its writer’s 😭 but anyways.. ENJOYYY!!!

Contents: SMALL ANGST - FLUFF

⭒☆┈┈𓆩♡𓆪┈┈☆⭒

“Take one more step and you’re never coming back ever again!!” A mother yelled out in anger, her teen child stopping in his tracks. He said nothing but he turned and his cold stare gave his message.

He didn’t give a shit, he wanted out of that household and never came back. No one would want to live with a mother who only degrades you and makes you feel like a disgrace and with a drunk father who rarely comes to his work and even loses his jobs multiple times and never brings food to the table and spends it on booze.

With a final step, he was out the door and the mother yelled once more before slamming the door shut, causing neighbors from the apartment complex to worry but didn’t check. The teen just scoffed and held his duffle bag filled with clothes and other necessities and walked to the elevators.

Out the door, he breathed in the air of the city. He was free from that horrible household. He started his walk along the path, crossing a few roads. He didn’t know where he was going, maybe find a place to sleep? He did have a bit of money saved, but didn’t want to waste it on one night at some motel. His first plan was to get some food, maybe the convenience store has something to eat.

He walked for a good hour until he saw a 7-eleven and walked in. He scanned all over the shelves in each aisle and grabbed a few bottles of water and snacks. He was forever grateful that 7-eleven had those microwaves and hot food that you could buy. He bought a hotdog on a stick and ate that for lunch. He continued to walk the path but some people eyed him and his duffle bag. Some people thought he just got out of the gym but dismissed that thought because of how young he looked, while others thought that he just got kicked out or ran away from home which was true in both ways.

He somehow felt a sense of freedom. Free from his controlling mother, his drunken bully of a father. Like his wings are finally free to roam the sky. With a deep breath, he spread out his

wings and decided to take a fly across the city’s sky. His wings weren’t that big but they were enough to allow him to fly. He soared in the afternoon sky, feeling the wind pass him. He felt so free.

A red winged bird noticed from the side of his view, another fellow bird perhaps? He looked over to see the youngling who was flying with a duffle bag on his back (It has straps that can turn it into a backpack, a huge backpack) and it piqued his curiosity. He swung over to the side to have a chat with the winged boy.

“Hey! Seems like you’re a fellow bird, huh?” Hawks spoke up, trying to make a conversation with the boy. The boy was confused, who was he and why was he so interested in him? “Uhh, yeah?” The boy answered half-heartedly. Hawks just smiled and continued to chat with the boy. “So… What’s your name, kid?” he asked. The boy didn’t know whether he should trust the adult but he assured himself that it was just a name and that it wouldn’t harm him in any way. “Y/N.” He answered. Y/N didn’t want to tell his last name since the man could potentially drag him back to that hell of a household.

“Y/N, huh? Well, kid, shouldn’t you have an adult with you? You seem quite young.” Hawks asked, taking in Y/N’s appearance. He seemed too young to be out alone but some teens do go out alone but the boy had a duffle bag with him and it seemed quite full, unlike some duffle bags used for basketball or soccer practice.

The teen hesitated. His worries started to flood his mind. “You good?” Hawks’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Huh? Oh. Yeah, I’m good.” Y/N nodded formally. “Well, I should introduce myself. I’m Hawks.” The hero smiled. That name hit him, Hawks? As in the youngest hero, Hawks?! The youngest hero was talking to him! He couldn’t believe it. “Finally hit ya, huh?” Hawks chuckled. “Why don’t we land and chat?” Hawks asked. The teen thought about it for a while as they continued to fly across the city. He nodded, as if agreeing with himself and nodded at Hawks with a small smile. Hawks smiled back and flew down, making the boy follow him to a small cafe.

The cafe was nature themed, flowers decorated the establishment. “Hawks! How lovely seeing you again!” A waitress waved over to the hero who waved back. “C’mon kid.” The blonde called out to the H/C who was looking around. The boy couldn't shake off his fear from all of this. From practically getting kicked out willingly, to suddenly having lunch at a cafe with a hero, the upcoming hero no less! It felt somehow off for him and the hero noticed that from his expression.

“Kid, I ain’t going to do anything bad to you. I just thought a nice lunch might help ya.” The hero explained himself. Y/N just nodded, not really buying his explanation but it was better than no explanation.

“Alright, what can I get you two?” The waitress Keigo was talking to was now in front of the two, ready to take their orders on her little note pad with a pen in her hand. “I’ll have the fish and chips! But make-” “Make the fish a chicken, I know.” The waitress sighed. “You know it!” Hawks chuckled. “How about you, kid?” The waitress drew her attention from Hawks and onto the young boy. “Oh? Uhh, F/F?” The boy pointed to the food on the menu. “Got it, kid. Anything else?” She asked. “Just water for me.” The boy answered. The waitress nodded and walked away to pass their orders to the kitchen.

“So, kid.. Are you running away?” The boy was caught off guard by Hawks’s bluntness. “What? No.” The boy lied. “I can tell you’re lying.” The boy was confused. He could tell he was lying? Hawks pointed to Y/N’s chest, he looked down to see a red feather that was pressed against his chest. “Your heartbeat gives it away.” The boy sighed, admitting defeat.

Hawks continued to ask his questions. “Why are you running away?” He asked so calmly. “I didn’t exactly run away..” Y/N looked away nervously. “You got kicked out?” Y/N nodded. “I see..” That’s all the blonde said before the food arrived hot and fresh. Y/N could feel his mouth watering, he hadn’t had any good food in a long time! Even when he was still at home, the food was always either eggs or canned food so this was a nice change.

Y/N ate the food as if it was his last good meal which probably is true. Hawks couldn’t help but feel bad for the boy. He didn’t know what he felt bad for but he just felt- bad for him.

“You got anywhere to stay?” The hero asked. “No..” Y/N muttered quite softly. Great, and the kid had nowhere to stay. He was considering taking the boy in but the Hero Commission won’t allow him to do so. Unless..

“How about you stay with me, kid?” That statement caused the boy to choke on his food. “I’m sorry— What?!” The boy was quite vocal about the man’s shocking proposal. “Yeah, I can adopt you and take you in.” The winged hero smiled.

Y/N needed to think about this. I mean, the hero just suddenly brought this up. Wouldn’t this have complicated his hero career? Why would the hero suggest that? “Why?” The hero shrugged, “I need some company and I don’t mind raising a teen like you.” That might be the weirdest explanation anyone had, but the boy thought it through.

“Give me a few weeks to think.” The boy asked. The man nodded and they continued their meal peacefully with a few small conversations.

⭒☆𓆩♡𓆪☆⭒

~ Hawks have been non-stop visiting you. You don’t know how he keeps finding you! You have always moved to different spots to sleep, to take a break, etc. But he always ended up finding you!

~ He would fly down and sometimes even jumpscared you. He would just laugh it off and spend half of his day with you

~ Perhaps he was trying to spend more time with you for you to trust him. You couldn’t help but feel some sort of safety around him?

~ Since you were now kicked out/ran away, you were cautious of your surroundings. You always checked all of your stuff, making sure it’s all there. You even started to sell some things that no longer had meaning to you.

~ But when you were with Hawks, you felt a sense of comfort, safe, you felt that you could perhaps trust him.

~ He tries his best to spend his time with you, buying you snacks and water, ranting about his hero work, even playing cards with you! (You had pulled out the +2 too many times when playing UNO. The poor man was shocked.)

~ You could tell he really would like you to stay with him but you couldn’t.

~ You were 12 but you never went to school. You mainly taught yourself with things that mattered to you. You were both IQ and street smart. You knew to never trust a stranger, even when it’s a Pro Hero.

⭒☆𓆩♡𓆪☆⭒

“Oh my God, would you stop following me?!” He yelled furiously at the hero, people walking by noticed the outrage. “Woah, Kid! Alright, alright.” He held his hands up. “I get that you want to take me in, but seriously man, stop following me.” Y/N said.

“I’ll come to you when I’m ready, alright?” The hero nodded and proceeded to fly away, giving the boy some space.

There were some perks of being adopted by a hero. Money, good food, amazing clothing, and maybe even a better education. But every single benefit had its problems. If you were adopted by a hero, the hero would have to try their best not to bring you into the public view as their child. If villains knew that the hero had a child, you, they would try to kidnap you and take advantage of the hero’s heart.

From how much time the hero spends on him, he can tell that he really wants to take the boy in.

He sighed, “Here goes something..” He took out his phone and scrolled down and clicked on a contact that read “BIRD.” Hawks had given him his number after their lunch. He clicked on voice call. He heard ringing, his heart thumping out of nervousness. Hawks picked up and the boy could hear his voice, he seemed to be busy with something with his sidekicks.

“Alright, thank you for your hard work!” Hawks praised before turning his attention to the boy’s sudden voice call. “Hey, kid! Did you miss me that much?” A chuckle was heard from the other side of the phone. “Uhm, no- I’m just calling to answer that question of yours from a few weeks back..” The boy muttered out. Hawks took a deep breath, clearly nervous about the boy’s answer.

“I think, I can give it a try..” The boy answered, leaving the Winged Hero in absolute joy! The H/C haired could hear the excitement the hero had, distancing himself from his phone to insure that his ears won’t be damaged. “This is amazing news, kid! I’ll get the paperwork done tomorrow and then you’re officially my boy!” The hero said in joy, the boy couldn’t help but feel joyful that someone would be so happy to have him in their life.

⭒☆𓆩♡𓆪☆⭒

~ Hawks is an amazing dad! A lot better than your biological father.

~ He would always ask about your day.

~ Always taking you out for food. Even when you’re full, he would bring the rest to go and then you guys would eat it the next day or lunch or breakfast!

~ You are so glad you took up on the offer.

⭒☆𓆩♡𓆪☆⭒

4 years later, your dad became the number 3 hero and later became the number 2 hero! You couldn’t have been more proud of your dad. He took you out for lunch to celebrate his accomplishment of becoming the number 3 hero! You were 16 and decided to follow in his footsteps and got into Shiketsu! He was super proud of you and your hard work!

Together, you make the best Winged Duo.

⭒☆┈┈𓆩♡𓆪┈┈☆⭒

[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 25

WARNINGS: passionate kissing, British swearing

For once, you're happy to go to your classes. They'll hopefully help get your mind off of all of your problems. And, even better, today you get to continue Harry's Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. Towards the end of your second class, your excitement keeps you from focusing on the assignment. Once it is time for lunch, you gobble down your food and hurry the twins to do the same, and then the three of you head up to the Room of Requirement.

You're a little disappointed when Harry begins with the basics. Though it seems simple, Harry insists that the disarming spell, "expelliarmus", could mean the difference between life and death. He has Ron help him demonstrate the spell. They point their wands at each other, Harry speaks the magic word, and Ron's wand goes soaring across the room.

"Alright then..." Harry says, turning back to the crowd. "Let's split up into pairs. Everyone, find a partner."

Almost immediately, Fred and George latch onto each of your arms.

"Y/n is my partner!" George announces to the world, pulling you closer to himself.

Fred tugs you the other way. "No, she's mine," he chortles, as if George was joking.

"Ladies, please," you say, wrenching yourself free of the twins' hands. "Control yourselves!"

George chuckles sheepishly, running a hand through his thick, red hair. Fred merely shrugs with a shameless grin.

"Are you guys having any trouble?" It's Harry. He's been walking around, checking on his new pupils.

"Yeah," replies Fred. "Trouble picking partners."

"Oh. Well, uh..." Harry searches the room. "It looks like everyone else is paired up. I suppose I can be someone's partner... George?"

George's shoulders slump forward, and he looks at you like a sad puppy. "Yeah, alright. Lead the way, Professor Potter." You hear Harry laugh as you follow Fred over to a vacant corner of the room where you both can spar, and it makes you smile. Harry hardly ever laughs anymore.

"Alright, let's do this!" Fred exclaims, obviously happy that he got you as his partner. He points his wand at you, standing with his right foot forward, and holds his left hand out behind him.

You laugh. "We're not fencing, you know."

Fred's enthusiasm dies for a brief moment, his stance weakening. "Well, I—"

"Expelliarmus!" you shout, and Fred is left empty handed.

Fred's mouth hangs open in shock. "Y/n...!"

You shrug your shoulders and flutter your eyelashes at him innocently. "I'm only playing the game!"

The surprise on Fred's handsome face turns into a dangerously sly expression that makes your face redden. "I see," he says. He doesn't move to fetch his wand, but starts slowly toward you instead. "If that's how you want to play it..." You walk backwards, giggling giddily and wondering what he plans to do as he draws closer. When you think you've reached the wall and don't run into hard stone, you look back to find that an open doorway has magically formed behind you. You gasp in alarm while Fred grins crookedly, totally unfazed. It seems that the Room of Requirement has created a small hiding spot for just the two of you. You silently thank the Room as Fred finishes, "Then you won't mind if I cheat a little bit."

Fred corners you into the little stone cubicle with a rather fervent, perfectly intoxicating kiss. His big, warm hands cup the sides of your face gently, yet purposefully. You absolutely bask in the moment, closing your eyes and once again letting your head spin because of that delightful honey-redwood scent. You feel Fred's hands slide from your face and down your arms. It isn't until your wand slips out of your grasp that you realize what Fred is doing, and your eyes snap open.

Fred backs away and holds up your wand with a triumphant smile. "Expelliarmus," he sniggers.

You laugh out loud, but quickly stop yourself in case the Room of Requirement didn't make the walls sound-proof. "I'm not even angry," you snort, taking your wand back and tossing it aside (a soft pillow conveniently appears to catch it before it hits the floor). Fred's eyebrows rise in surprise when you grab his loosely knotted Gryffindor tie and tug on it teasingly. "But I might be soon if you don't come back here."

The tops of Fred's ears turn red and he clears his throat, grinning flusteredly. "Yes, ma'am!" he laughs and obediently proceeds to kiss you again, swiftly picking up an intense level of energy that sends your heart pounding as you do your best to match it.

But Fred's exceeding height makes it difficult for you two to reach each other. Fred has to bend down quite a bit; you want to wrap your arms around his neck, but can't entirely even when you're standing on the tips of your toes.

"You... are... too... tall!" you giggle in between kisses.

Fred lets out a low grumble that communicates something in between agreement and impatience.

Then, to your surprise, Fred clamps his large hands around your waist and lifts, carrying you like a pot of water a couple paces before sitting you down on a sort of stone bench (that wasn't there before) which protrudes from the wall about four and a half feet above the ground.

You're delighted to discover that you are now sitting at precisely Fred's height. He appears satisfied as well, smiling that handsome, crooked grin before diving for your lips once again.

Fred kisses you passionately, fiercely, hungrily, pushing you up against the wall like he can't get you close enough. Now you easily hug his neck, feeling your hands around his strong back and broad shoulders. Fred's own hands gradually come back around out of the hug and slip down your waist to rest at your hips, his forearms on your legs. His kisses slacken and begin to move.

Fred kisses the side of your mouth, then your cheek, and beneath your ear. You've closed your eyes by now and open them momentarily when you feel his fingers brush your hair aside. Fred follows with a line of lovely kisses that trail down your neck, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms, and your eyelids close again involuntarily. Fred comes to a halt when his mouth reaches the collar of your dress shirt that keeps him from going any further.

"Hmm," Fred's deep voice hums in your ear. You hold back what would be an enjoyed shiver, and feel something tug lightly at your collar. "I'd very much like to remove this..."

You feel yourself blush severely, but he can't see it so you play it off coolly with a chuckle. "Sorry, love," you say softly, petting the back of his head. "It's not the time and place for it."

"I suppose you're right," Fred sighs in mild disappointment. He plants one more kiss on your lips and pulls away. "Though I can't imagine—"

You gasp as the sudden realization hits you, and Fred's eyebrows lift in surprise. "The time!How long have we been here? Is lunchtime over yet? Has everyone left?"

"Ah," Fred replies, nodding once. He helps you down off of the stone seat before you can squirm off. "I doubt George would leave without us." You go to snatch your wand from the pillow and you rush out of the little room with Fred close behind.

"There you are!" It's George. Other than you and Fred, he's the only person left in the Room of Requirement. He comes trotting up to you, wearing a relieved smile. He hands Fred his wand. "Where in the world did the both of you bloody apparate to?"

"Over there," Fred responds, jutting his thumb back over his shoulder. You and George look to see nothing but a full, stone wall, and you wonder how no one had noticed the opening while you and Fred had occupied it. "We only stepped away for a quick peck."

A contagious, ecstatic grin spreads across George's just previously confused face, and he looks to you. You blush slightly and shrug. "It was a little more than a peck..."

Then George looks down somewhere below your gaze, and his expression morphs into one of concern. "What's that on your neck?" he asks.

Your hand immediately flies to the side of your neck where Fred had kissed you. No way. That's all it had been, right? Only kisses. There's no way Fred had given you a... a hickey without you realizing it... right? You swallow nervously and turn to face Fred with a look of partially accusatory questioning.

"No! Nope, I did no such thing!" Fred snorts, shaking his head back and forth quickly. He glares half jokingly at George who laughs.

"George!" You punch him hard in the arm. "You had me scared out of my socks!"

George rubs his bicep in pain, but continues to laugh. Fred can't help but join in and soon you have to let go of your anger and find yourself chuckling, too.

"How did you know?" you ask George as you, him, and Fred exit the Room of Requirement with your arms linked together (with you in the middle, as usual). "That I'd fall for that?"

"Fred always goes for the neck," George responds simply.

"Wha— I do not!" Fred defends, and you laugh.

[blackjackkent]

It definitely takes about half an hour or so before Rakha makes her way over to Lae'zel's tent. The business with Vlaakith rattled everyone, and even though Lae'zel reached out to Rakha for her opinion and support without prompting, Rakha is still pretty deep in the depths of post-Bhaalspawn-Reveal self-loathing and isn't sure she really has any right to get involved.

I think it's probably Wyll, in the end, who encourages her to go see how Lae'zel is doing. (Truly, I wonder what exactly he makes of his girlfriend's odd situationship with the young gith, but Wyll is a smart cookie and a good dude, and I think he recognizes that ultimately there's no romantic threat remaining there (at least from Rakha's side), just 1415134135 other weird and complicated emotions instead.)

"It is done. There is no going back. As long as the Undying Queen reigns, I am never to soar unbound over the Astral Sea, never to cross the One in the Void. As it should be - better a short life built on truth than immortality woven of lies. Better to unite the githyanki under a prince who would free their minds and honor their bodies."

"So why do I feel so... bitter?"

Poor Lae'zel. :(

There are a couple of available checks here (insight, or poking around with the worm) to figure out exactly what's going through Lae'zel's head in this moment - the grief she feels for the life she is abandoning. Hector passed this, and it was a sweet little bonding moment for him and Lae'zel and really formulated, I think, a lot of their relationship after.

Rakha, though... is just not that insightful and barely even knows what's going on in her own head, let alone Lae'zel's.

"I can't explain how you feel, Lae'zel," she says quietly.

"Chk." Lae'zel shrugs, as if it doesn't matter. "Then the feeling will fade like Vlaakith's craven projection. I am her child no more; I have been born anew in Gith's son, my savior. And so from the old battle cries is birthed another - ch'mar, zal'a Orpheus! Mha stil'na forjun inyeri!" Her jaw sets with renewed determination. "Orpheus's will above all. May the Comet blaze my path forward."

Rakha nods cautiously. "What next?" she asks.

"We find Voss at Sharess's Caress and retrieve the key to releasing the prince," Lae'zel says firmly. "Orpheus tavki na'zin!"

Which is all well and good, Rakha reflects as she turns and trudges away. Certainly it is the right step for Lae'zel to turn from Vlaakith, just as surely as Rakha needs to find a way to shed the ties that bind her to Bhaal. And yet...

The Astral worm still sits in Rakha's head, bringing her power and some measure of ephemeral peace. The Absolute still waits in the distance, and the Emperor's control over Orpheus is the only thing that protects them from it. These things, and Lae'zel's new crusade as a child of the Comet, cannot coexist.

Rakha said she would stand with Lae'zel against Vlaakith, and she meant it. But she's not entirely sure she can stand with Lae'zel for Orpheus. And she has no idea where that will leave them, in the end.

[yzeltia]

Closer to You

Chapter 3 Characters: Natsu Obinata, Violet Fisher, @driftward 's Nyx Blackmoon, U'odh Nuhn, U'rahn Nuhn, L'lolamo Lolomori, U'rahn Tia Rating: T for Nuhn Notes: cw Asphyxiation, cw mammet abuse

Natsu’s soul sunk into her belly as she soared through the air on Violet's dirt bike. Even with a helmet and assurances of having an aetheric barrier of protection it did little to assuage the uneasiness that came with 200 lbs of Garlean metal between their legs bounding over sand dunes.

“If you squeeze me any tighter I'm going to pass out,” Violet warned through her linkpearl, not flinching as she landed and sharply turned to putter down a dip between the high mounds of sand.

“S-sorry,” Natsu said, loosening her grip.

“It's fine. You should worry about yourself too. I don't want you passing out because you grazed me wrong.”

“I'm sorry?”

“You get hit with the Echo by touch and given the way you forget with your gloves, you've got little control over it.”

“Yeah…I'm told that is not conventional. Most apparently have visions of an event, I seem to live it. Where I grew up…it…well…”

“I get it. I can dip into the lifestream…people aren't exactly kind to those who know things they shouldn't. You won't find yourself short of those who can empathize if you continue to stick around the Free Company.”

Natsu tensed up, turning to rest the cheek of her helmet on Violet's back. “I feel I've rather worn out my welcome. Leon…”

“Don't start with that shit. You didn't do anything wrong. You hear me?”

“But-”

“Look. I can count the people that are close to me on two hands. Leon was one of them. Whatever is going on didn't happen because he decided to play big brother in Y'zel's absence. He was a good guy and would not blame you for his circumstances. You said you felt what he was feeling. Did he even spare you a thought, anger or otherwise?”

Natsu went silent. She didn't like to dwell on her experiences with the Echo, but Violet had a point. She was the least of Leon's concerns. It helped, in a roundabout way.

“Thanks,” Natsu said weakly.

Violet turned her head a little bit to look back at the Au Ra, “I wouldn't thank me yet. I had an ulterior motive for dragging you along.” 

Natsu sat back a bit, looking at Violet before jumping in her seat as news articles flashed into her visor. She yelped as Violet hit the breaks to keep her from falling backward.

“I threw together some Allagan tech and my own to display audio visuals as a means of communication or tuning out to boring conversations.”

Natsu nodded, looking through the articles, the pages seeming to pick up on her attention. Most described catch and release kidnappings by Garlean soldiers. “I don't understand…these people are reporting that they were lightly interrogated and then released unharmed. What does this have to do with me?”

“Possibly nothing, but there's two things that have given me pause. One is that, while not reported, every victim had the Echo.”

Natsu tilted her head, reading through an article again, “How could you know?”

“I didn't at first. Which brings me to the second part. Three victims have not been returned. First a researcher who studies those with the Echo, Patient Heaven, then Archon Mikoto Jinba and the other a nobody in terms of status, Hayzel Summers.Here's the thing though, the latter is the brother-in-law of one of the Free Company's grunt workers. He had asked for help and divulged that they have the Echo as well. So I hit the pavement to get more information.

“The Archon has the ability to get glimpses of the future rather than look into the past while the other can manifest dreams and nightmares. The others involved had your run of the mill brief headaches with little bites of the past.”

Natsu thought for a moment, “What made you piece all of this together?”

“Boredom, mostly. I've grown accustomed to chaos.”

“And my place in all this?”

Violet didn't answer immediately, rolling through the dunes carefully. “I think you're a potential target, along with myself.”

“Because of our Echo…”

“Exactly,” Violent said crisply before stopping as they neared the walls of the Forgotten Springs, “What's more is that this all coincides with Y'zel's disappearance. Shortly after the abduction of Mikoto and the trickling in of reports he went missing and the database at headquarters was softlocked forcing Gage to beef up security measures. I believe he figured out what was going on and tried to sabotage whoever is looking for Echo users.”

“I don't understand. Why wouldn't he say something?”

Violet pulled off her helmet then shook out her hair. “Most likely to keep himself hidden given his own Echo. Not to mention he is notoriously bad at communication.”

Natsu pulled her helmet free then rubbed on her horns, finding them a bit itchy after being compressed inside the helmet. Violet crossed her arms, leaning on her cycle as she bit her thumb and got lost in thought for a moment before looking to the gate. “All of it feels connected…but the why eludes me. No reason to worry about it now anyway. Let's go see what had our favorite automaton fly this way.”

“Automaton?”

“Nyx.”

“Are they not a Miqo'te?” Natsu asked.

“I am not a Miqo'te,” a monotone voice came from behind.

Natsu jumped then turned around to find Nyx staring at her. Nervously she took a step back, feeling as if she were being assessed by their vacant stare. 

“Rahn has been harmed by an unknown assailant claiming to be me. The Drake clan has conflicting stories about traffic to and from his home. U-Rahn Tia has been damaged and cannot give an unbiased report. There is an urgent need to perform corrective violence. Possibly to the point of extermination of the threat.”

Violet was taken aback at the news, “Someone hurt him? Physically?”

“Yes. Rahn is not invulnerable. He can be poisoned, drowned, starved-”

“Maybe we don't list all the ways you've calculated to kill your boyfriend and just tell us what happened.”

“Understood. Asphyxiation.”

Natsu let out a little gasp in shock, though Nyx looked on unphased. The Hyur simply nodded then turned to lead them back into the village where Drake huntresses gathered around a singular house, well armed and looking worried. As Natsu looked back to see if Nyx was following, she found them just as suddenly absent.

Natsu soon found herself in U'rahn's small house. The Nuhn was laid out on a bed with a damaged Miqo'te mammet under his arm. He was propped up against a Miqo'te woman who had his similar sandy hair as he slept soundly while in her arms. U’rahn’s breathing was shallow and pained. A large plum colored bruise covered his neck.

“Shit,” Violet breathed out before looking up to the older Miqo'te. “Nyx said you don't know who did this? Are you certain this wasn't a Tia scuffle and the ladies are just covering it up? I don't see the guys around.”

The man rubbed his beard and shook his head, “Khuba and Thyka are scouting the area for trrraces of the assailant. I'm not optimistic. No one can agrrree on a damn thing.”

“I'm sure we'll figure out who hurt your son, U'odh,” Violet said, giving the Au Ra a glance.

Natsu quickly averted her gaze and began to fidget with her gloves. She began to look around quietly taking in the room to avoid the Hyur’s knowing gaze as they talked with U'rahn's father. 

The room was fairly organized with just two beds, a kitchenette, and small dining area. Faded posters of bomball players and teams were slapped across the wall along with a bunch of newer pictures of friends and family. Many featured him squished together in a frame with Nyx. Books were stacked up next to his bed, most on prenatal and child care, the Nuhn seeming to be expecting his first. And then of course a pile of clothes and adventuring gear. “Um…where did it happen,” Natsu asked.

U’odh turned, “In here. We found him on the ground with Lolamo nearby.”

“Did you clean up then?”

Violet quickly spun her head, “Shit. You're right, Natsu! U'rahn isn't exactly the most perceptive of his surroundings. If there was a fight there'd have been signs.”

U’odh shook his head and looked to his son and wife, “Only the mammet and U'rahn seemed harmed. There was also an iron skillet on the floorrr. Aside from that, nothing was amiss.”

The Hyur moved to the bed, reaching for the mammet before having her hand intercepted by Nyx. “You will not touch U-Rahn Tia. I will start on repairs after I have finished assessing the threat.”

Violet held her hands up defensively as Nyx backed away with U’rahn Tia, placing the mammett on the counter in the kitchenette. Natsu squirmed where she stood, feeling more and more on the spot, knowing well she could simply get their answers with a touch. Carefully she pulled her glove from her hand and walked toward the bed.

“Obinata,” Nyx’s voice sounded by her horn, “Your experience will be unpleasant if you proceed with your course of action.”

Natsu jumped, startled by Nyx’s swift interception, “H-How did you-” “Observation.”

“R-Right,” the Au Ra said before looking down at her hands, “But…I think I’m the only one that will take the guesswork out of what happened.”

“Understood. You may touch Rahn. I shall standby to pull you away should you express discomfort,” Nyx said, moving to stand stiffly at the side of the bed. 

“Thank you,” Natsu said before sitting beside the sleeping pair before carefully putting her hand on U’rahn’s bicep.

Her thoughts were scattered. One minute she was worrying about her huntress having enough broccoli to wondering what Jannie was getting up to with her wedding plans before starting to feel anxious about asking Nyx to marry her. No thought stayed too long though. 

Shje sighed, looking to her mom in the next bed wondering if she was ever going to recover and wake from her sleep. 

“Father. Not Not Mother is here,” U'rahn Tia chirped from beside his bed.

“No no buddy. Heck you're getting worse. Just say Mother. Not, Not Mother…er, Not Not Not Mother,” he said, scratching his  chin, fumbling on the words before perking up as Nyx let themself in, “Hey Hey! I've been good and staying put like you asked. Did they tell you U’goromuli is officially with child! I'm gonna be a dad!”

“Yes, Rahn,” Nyx said, attention turning to U'rahn Tia as he wandered toward them.

“Not Not Mother,” U'rahn Tia said, pointing up toward Nyx.

Nyx’s eyes narrowed. Natsu felt her heart race as a sense of dread came over them. Nyx didn't squint…or really make any expression. Standing, he quickly put himself between U'rahn Tia and the imposter. “Hey Hey! You know how you were telling me about where you came from the other day but I forgot whether you were from a Seeker tribe or Keeper tribe…or just a Miqo'te from neither.”

Nyx seemed to search his face, “I am just a Miqo'te.”

Her ears perked. This wasn't Nyx. They would never say they were a Miqo'te. Suddenly all their conversations from the past month ran through her mind, thinking on them expressing a dislike for food she'd made as too salty and her ambivalence toward U'rahn Tia aside from the occasional glance. There were times where he'd asked about something they'd said before but could not recall. 

“I'm such an idiot,” she said in disbelief before finding Nyx’s hand tight around his throat and lifting him much higher than they should be able to.

“I was intending on keeping you here until I finished, but if you're intent on getting in the way, Warrior of Light, I will have to put you down,” Nyx’s voice sounded, though filled with a strange frustration she thought impossible.

She squirmed and tried to kick but the shock of not having air made her quickly weaken in struggle. Her aetheric shield seemed to falter as she panicked , feeling her trachea be collapsed by the hand. Out of the corner of her eye she saw U'rahn Tia come forward and start punching at the imposter’s shin.

“It is herrro time,” the mammet said in his monotone before being kicked and sent into the wall.

Fear flooded Natsu, having never been faced with her own mortality. As she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness a soft familiar voice sounded, “Get…your hand…off my…baby!”

“Obinata!”

Natsu yelped as she was pulled back into Nyx’s strong arms. Shaking she quickly pushed past everyone to get outside, Violet and Nyx following. As she knelt down to get sick, she felt both pull her bangs back. Once finished, she wiped her face and sniffled as U’odh bought a cool wet cloth for her to clean up with.

“S-Someone who looked like Nyx came. He knew it wasn't them just from a look they gave the mammet and when they were wise to one another they attacked him…I think…I think his mom woke up to save him? He was really confused and relieved right before I felt him start to fade.”

“Talk about mother’s instinct,” Violet said before looking to Nyx, “Any chance you have sisters running around?”

“Extremely unlikely. And they would not match my appearance.”

“Then our mysterious changeling strikes again,” Violet mused.

Natsu shook out her head then stood up. “I should see what I can get with his mom. Maybe they'll see something.”

“Obinata, your heightened emotional state due to experiencing the perception of end of life has caused injury to your physical state. Food and rest is recommended before you make contact with another,” Nyx cautioned in their monotone.

Natsu blinked then held her stomach a moment before giving a little nod. “If you insist.”

“I do not insist. Your wellbeing will do more to help Rahn and find my target.”

“Well, I insist,” Violet interjected, handing Natsu her glove, “Have anything to eat old man?”

U’odh crossed his arms, furrowing his brow a bit. “I will do my best to fix something up. Have U’goromuli find you a room to rest in. She should be in our common building.”

With that the Nuhn turned, leaving the three to themselves, though Nyx seemed to vanish in the time it took for the other two to think to look back for them. Natsu sighed, lightly bumping into Violet as they entered the Forgotten Springs’ commons, letting the Hyur wrap her arm around her in comfort.

[that-choir-girl]

Told Ya She'd Say Yes

requested by @frodo-cinnamon-roll. Thx for requesting :)!

***Frodo's POV***

I sighed, staring at the bar where Rosie Cotton, and lovely y/n worked. Both were chatting happily to each other as they did their duties. It's been a few months since we came back to the Shire. I've always had a crush on y/n, even before my quest began. Sam had already proposed to Rosie, which happened just a couple of months ago.

Now, I wanted to ask y/n out. But I didn't know how. And I was too scared.

"Hello? Frodo, are ou even listening?" Merry asked. He waved his hand in my face, trying to catch my attention.

And it worked. I snapped back to reality after staring at y/n from afar.

"Sorry. Wasn't paying attention," I answered quickly as I turned to face my friends again.

"Oh. Staring at y/n, are we?" Pippin smirked. He gave me a teasing wink.

My cheeks burned a bright pink color.

"Of course, I don't," I hastily replied.

"Yes, you do. You've been staring at her for the past thirty minutes, man," Merry interrupted. "You should ask her out by now."

"I can't, Merry. I'm too shy," I tried to argue.

"C'mon!" groaned Merry. "You went into Mount Doom and managed to destroy the Ring. And you think that asking y/n out is harder than that?" He stared at me in disbelief.

The duo pressured me for a bit. Sam just sat to the side, smoking his pipe. He didn't want to get himself involved, and I didn't blame him.

"I'm sure she'll say yes, Mr. Frodo," he finally encouraged. "I was scared to death when I asked Rosie to marry me a couple weeks ago, even though I knew she'd say yes. We're not close to Miss y/n, but I can tell that she adores you, even if she just watches from afar."

"See?" Pippin added. "You should ask her!"

Both Merry and Pippin shoved me towards her, and I nervously approached y/n. My hands were sweating profusely by the time I got there. I waited patiently as y/n collected orders from two other male Hobbits, who were drunkenly commenting her. That caused me to be a bit jealous. But she paid no heed to them, much to my relief.

She finally turned to me, smiling slightly. I could see a pink blush creeping up her cheeks, and she quickly avoided my gaze.

"C-Can I help you, Mr. Baggins?" she asked shyly.

"Well. . . . .," I began, wondering how I should start off my confession. "I actually have something to tell you, y/n."

She raised an eyebrow, looking really suspicious. Well, no turning back, now. It's now or never.

"Go on," she said. She sat herself down on the counter.

I took a deep breath, trying to control myself.

"I — I was wondering if you'd — if you'd like to go on a date with me?" I asked, stuttering and stumbling in between words. She stared at me in surprise, and I could feel a sense of dread settling in the pit of my stomach.

Maybe she didn't want to be with me at all.

I found myself blushing hard. This was not how I wanted things to go.

"I-I'm sorry!" I stuttered, unsure of what to say. I — I wasn't sure of what you'd say. Or if you wanted to go on a date at all! It's alright if you don't want to. I understand —"

I was cut off when I felt a pair of soft lips pressing against mine. At first, my heart stopped, and I didn't know how to react. I soon responded by wrapping my arms hesitantly around her waist. When she let go, she looked me directly in the eyes.

"Of course, I want to, Mr. Baggins," she answered.

My heart soared when I heard her say that.

"Tomorrow evening, then? If you're free?" I asked.

"That sounds great."

"I'll see you, then," I breathlessly replied.

I looked at her one last time before cheerfully making my way back to my friends. I noticed that both Merry and Pippin had triumphant smirks on their faces.

"What?" I asked casually once I sat back down.

"Told ya she'd say yes," Pippin replied.

"Shut up," I replied as I stared wistfully after y/n again.

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Tag List: @clumsyraccoon

Chapter 25: Family

Marco returned after a series of apologetic texts explaining that his brothers weren’t letting him leave until he answered some of their questions. Once he walked in the door he set a suitcase and backpack down, took off his shoes and scooped you up into his arms, hugging you close and breathing deep before saying anything.

“Welcome home,” you say quietly, giving him a few soft kisses before he finally set you back down.

“Home, eh?”

“For the foreseeable.” You grin. “You want some tea? From your texts it sounded like your brothers were interrogating you.”

“Tea sounds wonderful, yoi.” He admits, walking into the kitchen with you, and sitting on the breakfast bar. “Ace was the worst of the lot, and he was feeding the others.” He grins and sighs. “I had to promise to visit at least one Saturday a month just to reach my closet.”

“Well, you have your promise for October in the bag.” You point out with a smile. “Since that’s when the party is.”

“I am expecting to hear ‘that doesn’t count’, from someone.” He admits with a grin.

You hand him a cup of tea, stepping back and leaning against the counter top, taking a sip of your own cup. “Any other concessions?”

“They haven’t even met you yet, and I’ve been requested not to horde you all to myself.” He says with a grunt. “I pointed out that you had a say in that, that they couldn’t control, yoi. But also,” he begins taking another sip. “I warned that if they crashed too many dates you might get your fill of them.”

You laugh. “Well, that’s one way to solve that concern.”

“Have you alked to Ivan yet?” He questions, looking over at you before taking another sip.

You shake your head. “I’m going to Monday. Figure I can just let all three of them know at once and then use my work commitments to cut the whole thing short.” You explain with a smile. “I mean, no one’s going to say anything bad, they know better.”

“I feel like ‘willful child’ was something used to describe you.” Marco muses, affection in his voice.

You grin, setting down your cup of tea. “Repeatedly, I’m sure.” You lift yourself up onto the counter to sit and let out a heavy breath. “Less so, before I ran away.”

You pause for a moment, looking around the room before looking back at Marco. “I don’t know the name of the island I was born on, but I know it’s in the New World somewhere. My family were… broken. They were broken. Three brothers, a sister, my mom and dad, all just empty shells going through the motions of living.”

You press your lips together and put your face in your hands for a second, pulling your feet up onto the counter, practically hiding behind your knees.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Marco says softly, staying where he is.

“No, I do. I do,” you admit putting your hands down and doing your best to look at him. “Because it would be cruel to feel this way, and to be this close, and then not say anything." Sorrow, deep and powerful crosses your face, despite your efforts in trying to maintain some level of neutrality.

You knew how the world felt about-

“- My family were nobles.” You say flatly. “Disgraced nobles, as far as the story goes, living in squalor after being removed from the lists.” You look away a little, eyes unfocused on anything in the here and now. “But that life was all I knew. I was born after their fall. I knew nothing else but that house, and it was a little larger than this place. It was hardly squalor, hardly poverty. It was comfortable. Dry and warm when it was cold outside and dry and cool when it was hot outside.

“We had to make our own meals, and clean our own things, but even removed from the lists, there were concessions provided to us. There was a certain image and importance to maintain, as though disgraced nobles were still worthy of more than common folk.”

Licking your lips a little, a bitter sweet smile slips along your features. Your shoulders droop and you sigh. “I was, for a time, happy. Even surrounded in the misery of a family who did little more than lament all they had lost, I wanted for nothing. I ate, cleaned, and played outside. No one paid much mind to me, within the house or without. I had a couple friends in a neighboring town, people who didn’t know who I was, unlike the townsfolk near our home.”

“What worked in my favor was that I didn’t have any of the recessive traits most of the nobles on the island had.” You sigh, quiet for a long moment. Marco didn’t move, even to drink any of his tea, and sat silently until you were ready to continue. “Which eventually did not work in my favor.”

“Lets go sit on the couch.” Marco prompts, getting up from his spot and walking over to you with his arms open. “If you were worried about your lineage scaring me off, yoi, it won’t.”

After a few hitched breaths, you wipe your eyes, scattering the errant tears, before reaching out toward him in return. He lifts you up easily, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, and your legs around his waist. There is comfort in the embrace, and the position, and it’s nice to just lean into him for a moment as he makes his way to the living room.

“Am I setting you down, or just sitting down?”

“Just sitting, please.” You reply quietly, moving your legs so you could comfortably lean against him while he sat back on the couch.

“You’re… really okay with it?” You question, voice still quiet. You know how the world views nobles. You know how nobles treat and view the world.

You wouldn’t be able to blame anyone for seeing you differently.

“I’ve seen who you are with my own eyes.” He assures you, holding you tight, nuzzling against the side of your face gently. “Blood’s never mattered to me.”

“… They were going to marry me back in.” You admit after a moment. Keeping your head on his shoulder you just sit there for a little longer. “Someone… someone thought I’d make good, healthy, heirs.”

Your fingers tighten, bunching up the fabric of his shirt. Even now the whole situation still turned your stomach.

“They sent a gift. Something considered priceless. I didn’t even know the concept of devil fruits before then.” The words become easier and easier to say, and so you just let them come out. “I didn’t want anything to do with it. I was barely old enough to understand it all. To understand that they were basically selling me to get their names returned to the lists.

“I ran off. I ran off a dozen times, dragged back each time, but I didn’t stop trying, and they could only do so much. Shackles are for commoners. You can’t beat a bride to be and risk injuries before the wedding. Can’t break my legs, you need me to walk, and so I ran.”

Marco’s arms seem to engulf you, as though he’s trying to consume the pain that comes from your words, or shield you from the anger bubbling up in him. You aren’t sure which. Maybe both. You just know the action is comforting. Protective. Kind.

“I gave it away, the fruit, to a kid on the street, but he was smart, or scared, and wouldn’t eat it. Thought it was poisoned. So I took a bite first.”  You’re quiet for a moment, letting the memory play in your mind again after so long. “It was sweet. Rich and full of honey. I know now that devil fruits usually taste awful, but this was delicious. He loved it so much he helped me leave the island.

“He couldn’t have been eight. I was barely twelve. We never used names, swore we’d never meet again. I think we both understood on some level, how dangerous it was. I stowed away, on some ship, and ended up here.”

“… You remember anything about the ship?” He prompts.

“It was huge…” you lean back so you can look at him. “It was one of the reasons we picked it. Figured I’d have less chance being caught on a really big ship.”

“Huge doesn’t narrow things down for me.” He says with a grin.

“… Oh right! You and your family sailed.. I guess this was about twenty years ago now.” You lean back, sitting on his thighs, thinking for a few long moments, trying to make sure you remembered the details correctly. “The front was white, rounder than other ships in the front. It had so many sails too, and I think it had blue down the sides, and, I don’t know, yellow or gold trim.”

“… Did it… look like a whale at all?” He questions hesitantly, eyes focused on you. “The front part, I mean.”

You tilt your head, and smile. “Yeah it did, kind of like a white version of a big blue whale.”

Marco purses his lips and furrows his brow, blush running across his face.

You’re confused for a moment before realization dawns. “You… know the ship?”

Marco nods.

“… Do I owe Shanks an apology?”

Marco’s face flinches a little, and he shakes his head slowly.

You can feel the blood drain from your face. Not out of fear, but the dread of true understanding.

“I… owe�� you, an apology.” You say slowly, and catch just the briefest nod from Marco. You look away and cover your mouth with your hand, thinking about your date at Thatch’s restaurant. “I thought that sauce tasted familiar.”

“Thatch practically started an inquisition!” Marco teases, grip tightening on you when you try to leave his lap. “We had locks on the refrigerator and pantry for five years after we got here!” He’s laughing as he pulls you against him entirely, kissing and nipping where he can. The light actions are ticklish on purpose and you can’t help your own laughter.

“I barely ate anything!” You insist, half-heartedly trying to escape. Marco grabs you suddenly, and firmly. Holding your head and body in place, eyes focused on your lips for a second as your laughter dies down.

The first kiss is soft and persistent, his body on edge as though he’s waiting to see how you’ll react. The next kiss is deeper, more insistent and needy, tongue pushing into your mouth and bringing soft moans up to your throat.

“He thought we had rats at first.” Marco says, still holding your face, not letting you back away too far.

You nod a little, eyes shifting from his reddening lips to his eyes. “I thought he spaced them out for his own foot size, and it was easy to step over them.”

“Did you trip a few on purpose?” He questions, and you nod.

“He was using such good cheese.” You admit, laughter bubbling up in you again.

Marco tries to keep a straight face and fails, the two of you falling into giggling laughter again. It takes a couple minutes to calm down and you set your head on his shoulder.

“I can’t believe it.” You murmur, fingers tangling into his.

“We left from that island, and stayed here.” Marco says. “That was the last trip we ever took.”

“Ivankov caught me.” You explain. “I thought I’d cleared the docks and was free and he picked me up like some stray cat.”

“I always wondered what secret she had.” Marco grins, changing his grip and capturing your hands behind your back, freeing up one of his. “Kept your secret all this time.”

“M-Marco,” you gasp, squirming a little as he pulls your collar aside, leaving kisses against your throat.

“Stowing away on a pirate ship is dangerous.” He says, voice low and heavy against your skin.

“You… you were Whitebeard pirates.” You state it and Marco pauses for a brief second before nipping at your ear.

“When’d you know, pretty bird?”

Your breath leaves you shakily. You aren’t worried about him hurting you, not now, maybe not even from the beginning, but the tone of his voice caresses your bones. From his tone alone you were at his mercy.

“A week, or so.” You admit. “The tattoo looked familiar, and then everything else just… added to it.”

“You weren’t scared?”

“Of you?” You can’t help the disbelief that slips into your voice.

“Most people are afraid of pirates, yoi. Even if they haven’t been pirates for years.”

“Most people think the marines actually protect them.” You retort, feeling Marco’s lips pull into a smile against your skin.

“I’m glad we never caught you.” He says quietly.

You laugh softly, sighing. “It would’ve been awkward to have been an honorary little sister or something and then end up here.”

“Little bit.” He agrees, letting go of your hands and pulling you into another kiss. “I’m pretty sure I would’ve lost either way, yoi.”

“Less bothered by the lost yesteryears, yeah?” You prompt, watching his cheeks turn red.

“Only a little.” There’s a pout in his tone, and another kiss follows it. “Gonna make up for all the lost time anyway.”

His hands tug at your shirt, and you lift your arms, letting him pull it off, breaking off the kiss for just long enough to let the article pass and get tossed aside. Leaning into the next kiss you tug at his shirt, and he leans forward, breaking the kiss and helping you pull it off.

No other conversation is had that night, nothing beyond quiet words of acquiescence and desire, peppered by the occasional sweet words of love and need. Tender kisses and desperate fingers trail over sweat speckled skin.

Pleasure is chased and caught, again and again, until limbs tremble simply from existing.

The clock chimes the name of a new day before dinner is consumed. The soft shuffle of sheets afterward, the brief moments of sleep, and the delicious scent of coffee to rally the morning.

And so began Monday.

[feisty4ferret]

Edited an old one-shot to become part of a song-fic series I have thought about forever!

Secret

His teeth sunk into her tender flesh, drawing a gasp of pleasure and pain from her lips. He ravaged her neck with hungry kisses, his hands roaming possessively over every inch of her body. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer as they moved in a frenzied rhythm. With a fierce grip on his hair, she guided him down to her breasts, where he eagerly suckled and nipped at her sensitive nipples, sending electric pulses of desire through her entire being. 

As their passion grew more intense, he thrust harder and faster into her, driven by primal instincts and raw desire. With a powerful force, he lifted her legs and pushed them over her shoulders, trapping her beneath him in a state of complete submission. She was at his mercy, and he reveled in the control he had over her. With each forceful thrust, they soared higher towards an explosive climax until finally collapsing onto the damp ground in a tangled heap of bodies.

Watch the sunrise Say your goodbyes Off we go Some conversation No contemplation Hit the road

As the sun broke through the sky, its harsh light illuminated the dark, foreboding lake where they stood. She hastily shoved her feet into her shoes while he frantically tied his tie, both consumed by heavy silence. Theirs was a relationship built on physical release, a way to vent their frustrations and escape the overwhelming pressure of war fighting on opposing sides. They were both doomed in the end, but for now, they found solace in each other's company. 

There was no room for embarrassment or hatred between them, yet also no hint of friendship or love. The arrangement was clear; this was the only way they could connect until the inevitable outbreak of war. With a slight nod, they acknowledged each other before going their separate ways, leaving behind an unspoken understanding of what lay ahead for them both.

Car overheats Jump out of my seat On the side of the highway baby Our road is long Your hold is strong Please don't ever let go Oh No

The cart's windows were fogged with the heat of their bodies, a steamy evidence of their forbidden affair. Tucked away at the end of the train, they reveled in the thrill of secrecy, her clothes discarded on the floor as she straddled him. Her hands explored his bare chest with savage urgency, while her lips devoured his hungrily. With each relentless bounce upon his rigid shaft, her breasts jiggled wildly until he took hold of them and squeezed, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through her body. As his fingers danced across her sensitive nub, she moaned and rode him even harder, lost in the ecstasy of their primal connection.

Their relationship was tumultuous, fueled by an unquenchable desire for control. But in this moment, they surrendered to each other completely. With his hands gripping her hips tightly, he matched her frenzied pace, driving them both towards release. She wrapped her arms around his neck, desperate to stay connected as they hurtled towards their inevitable end - the arrival of the train at Hogsmeade Station.

I know I don't know you But I want you so bad Everyone has a secret But can they keep it Oh No they can't

He stood in the hall with his friends, their voices floating around him like a warm embrace. For once, he felt relaxed and free from the constant stress of being caught between his parents and the dark forces they served. As he laughed and joked with his friends, he couldn't help but feel grateful for this brief moment of respite. She walked slowly down the hall, her steps hesitant and heavy. These days, she was often alone as her friends were preoccupied with schoolwork or consumed by worry over the war. She too was worried, but she refused to let it consume her completely. 

As she passed by the group of friends, she noticed someone looking at her - him. In that moment, he wished things were different between them. He wanted to say something, anything to reach out to her. Not because he had any special feelings for her, but because he didn't really know her beyond fulfilling her sexual desires. He longed to understand what went on inside her head, how she truly felt about him and why she desired him just as much as he desired her. But all there was between them was a secret stare, a longing for something more that they both couldn't act upon. And before either of them could make a move, they were already out of sight from each other's gaze

I'm driving fast now Don't think I know how to go slow Where you at now I feel around There you are

She sat hunched over the library desk, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she desperately tried to finish her Defence Against the Dark Arts essay. Sweat dripped down her face and her heart raced with panic - the deadline was looming and she was hopelessly stuck.

Suddenly, a hand reached in front of her and ripped open her shirt, exposing her bare chest. She gasped, looking up to see him - her forbidden lover. In that moment, she didn't care about the essay or anything else. She needed this break, this release, from the stress and pressure of academia. Without hesitation, she turned towards him and their lips collided in a desperate, hungry kiss.

He wasted no time in removing her bra and freeing her nipples, already hard with arousal. She moaned into his mouth as he slipped his tongue between her lips and pulled her closer to him. Then, with a sudden forcefulness, he spun her around and pushed her down over the desk.

Her skirt was yanked up roughly, followed by her panties being dragged down her legs. "Spread," he commanded in a low growl. This was how they communicated during sex - with firm directives and primal desires.

She complied eagerly, knowing that tonight would be rough - he must have had a bad day. But she trusted him completely and knew he would never hurt her. As he freed his own erect member from his briefs, he ran his fingers along her wet slit, making her shiver with anticipation.

Cool these engines Calm these jets I ask you how hot can it get And as you wipe off beads of sweat Slowly you say "I'm not there yet!"

He grasped himself in his hand, the hardness of his length evident as he positioned himself behind her. With one powerful surge, he was inside of her, filling her walls with his big member. She gasped at the sensation, feeling slightly overwhelmed by his size, but she didn't mind the roughness that came with it. In fact, she craved it. It was their secret, a guilty pleasure that she would never admit to anyone else. But when it came to being sexually active, she wanted it fierce and unrelenting.

He lightly smacked her right buttock, causing her to squirm and moan. The impact had an electrifying effect on his cock inside of her, making him pound harder and faster. Their breaths were heavy and labored as they moved together, her with a slight pain mixed with intense pleasure, and him with impatience and insatiable lust.

He was punishing her, not for anything she had done wrong, but because he needed an outlet for his frustrations. She was the only one who could satisfy him in this way. As she arched her back in an attempt to alleviate some of the discomfort, he seized the opportunity to thrust himself even further inside of her.

"Faster...faster," she panted into the table, urging him on. And he complied, driving his cock into her with increasing speed and force.

"Harder...harder...not there yet!" she cried out, gripping onto the edges of the table as he took a firm hold of her hips and thrust himself as deeply as he could into her. Every movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through their bodies until finally, they both reached their climax in a frenzy of ecstasy.

I know I don't know you But I want you so bad Everyone has a secret But can they keep it Oh No they can't

She stood motionless in the crowded hallway, pretending to listen to her friends as they discussed the never-ending war and its leader, Voldemort. Exhaustion weighed heavy on her shoulders - a constant companion in these tumultuous times. The only respite from her exhausting routine of classes, studying, and sleep was meeting him secretly, but those meetings were becoming fewer and further between. 

As she looked up at him walking by, she saw the emptiness in his silvery grey eyes that mirrored her own exhaustion. His face was marked with bruises that hadn't been there before - reminders of the dangerous path he had chosen. Despite their differences and past feuds as children, she felt a longing for their once intense connection. And though they were technically strangers now, she still wanted him desperately. But as they shared one last secret gaze, reality finally caught up to them and their forbidden love was forced to end.

📚 Read on AO3 • FFN • Wattpad

[roxtheumbra]

*KICKS DOWN YOUR DOOR*

Screw it, let's make the tokusatsu phantom rider au! But where do we start? Oh, I know! This gonna be long, so buckle up!

How 'bout we start with suit for this post, other bits will come later down the line.

From what is seen in the comics, the suit can be damaged rather easily in a conflict as it wasn't really designed for combat. I actually want to keep this for his first form (I have a few ideas for some forms, but nows not the time). At first, when our fledgling rider gets his transformation device (name pending) and tries to fend off any badniks in his base form, he finds out rather quickly that the suit is just supposed to give a boost to his speed and general agility, think like Kabuto's armorless version of his base suit. The suit would provide only basic impact resistance if the user were to slam into a wall, ground, or other hard surface due to being unable to control the suit's speed.

"But wouldn't Sonic already have crazy speed?" I hear you ask. In this au, that's not the case at all. It's all the suit's base form, which is powered by a speed type power core. "Power Cores? Like the ones Starline used to make the Tricore?" Yep, the suit is powered by them. That's where forms will come into play! As stated previously, the speed core is the base form for Sonic, so his base design will just be the phantom rider suit we know and love. I have ideas for at least 2 other forms, so here they are in no particular order.

With the power of the yellow fly power core, Sonic will gain a yellow coloration over the base form's blue, the red visor turns blue, and Sonic gains a small jetpack as well as a arm cannon! I dub this form: Flying Phantom! Before I continue with describing Flying Phantom's moveset, I'd like to state the name of the base form is Speeding Phantom (should've said that earlier, but better late than never, am I right?) Flying Phantom allows Sonic to soar into the air and rain hell from above however the jetpack seems to be limited to a single minute of air before needing to recharge. As Sonic learns more about these cores and the transformation device, he'll be able to extend the jetpack's time limit. Now, obviously, when he goes into Flying Phantom, he trades the immense speed of his base form for aerial movement and ranged attacks. He's also even more of a glass cannon in this form as the suit becomes less armored to make the jetpack useful. Otherwise, we have something similar to Forze in which his back thrusters only provide enough thrust to slow his descent from jumping off a building or other high places.

Next up, with the red power power core (why is the Knuckles based power core also called power, I don't get that. I will most likely change its name in the au to avoid confusion), with his armor turning to a rather striking shade of red and visor turning purple, we enter the heavy-duty fighting form: Striking Phantom! In this form, Sonic becomes built like a truck and hits like one, too! This form gives more than enough armor to survive a skyscraper falling on him and then some. It also gives Sonic giant spiked gloves, reminiscent of a certain echidna that can allow Sonic to destroy huge clumps of badniks with a single punch! The downside of this form is that Sonic can only move at a snail's pace, but just like with Flying Phantom's jetpack time limit, Sonic can slowly regain some movement speed as he continues learning and using this form.

If caught on to how the suits look, they're supposed to represent Tails and Knuckles respectively, that's on purpose as I think it'd a neat idea if Sonic got the cores, and thus forms, from his buddies. Now as to how they got them is up for debate, if you got any ideas on they get them or for anything else like more forms or potential lore bits then feel free to send an ask or leave a reply.