#where he will inevitably be found and sent back somewhere he Does Not Want To Go Or Talk Or Think About. so nine can’t leave him.

[quietwingsinthesky]

the human au doctors are all ambiguously from Not Great Home Situations but i think twelve specifically was having a terrible time as a foster kid and decided this little gang of weirdos would be his new family

[kneecapsbelong2me]

Flufftober Day 1

Masterlist (tbd)

@flufftober

Prompt: Lost Pet Meet Cute

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader (no pronouns used)

Summary: You find a dog sitting directly in your path one morning. You don’t expect his owner to be even cuter than he is.

Word Count: ~450

Warnings: none, just fluff :)

A/N: Am I 20+ days late for Flufftober? Yes. Does it matter? No :)

———————————————————————

When you decided to go to Central Park, of course you thought you’d see some dogs. It was inevitable—as sure as the the sun rising every morning.

What you weren’t expecting, was for a golden retriever to run up to you, leash hanging from his neck, with no owner you could see. He ran up to you and sat in front of you, blocking your path.

“Hey boy.” You took him in. He was missing an eye, but he was clearly well taken care of. The dog cocked his head to one side. “Where’s your owner bud?”

The dog didn’t respond except by remaining perfectly still. You looked around. No one was paying any attention to you. Okay, so this was kind of weird.

“Did you run away?” You held out a hand to let him sniff you.

He immediately gave you a long lick and barked. You giggled.

“Lucky! Lucky, where are you?”

Turning around, you caught sight of a woman around your age running toward you, looking frantic. Your breath caught in your throat. She was gorgeous. Her black hair was tied back in a ponytail, perfectly showing off her face and her blue eyes. The tanktop she was wearing perfectly showed off her toned arms, and you could see some abs poking out as it rode up.

To stop yourself from staring too hard, you turned back to the dog.

“Is that your mom, Lucky?”

Lucky barked happily, tail pounding the sidewalk. He made no attempts to move towards his owner. You reached for his leash and turned to face the woman,

“Hey, is this your dog?”

Her eyes went wide and she paused for a second before responding, “yes! Thank you so so so much for finding him.”

You shrugged. “He found me.” You handed the woman Lucky’s leash.

“Well still. The least I can do is treat you to a coffee. Are you free now?” Her dazzling smile sent your heart fluttering.

Her question left you stunned. “Uh—yes. Yes I am.” Surely she was just being friendly.

“Great. It’s a date.” The wink and smirk she gave you were anything but friendly.

“A date?”

“Only if you want to,” she rushed out. “Sorry, it seemed like you were interested—“

“No! Yes.” You took a deep breath, “I am very interested.”

“Awesome.” The woman tugged on your arm with her free hand and began leading you somewhere, seemingly in a random direction. “I’m Kate, by the way. I feel like I should’ve mentioned that before asking you out.”

You shook your head lightly and laughed. You had a feeling that this was the beginning of something good and that you’d be telling the story of how you met Kate for years to come.

[himbo-aficionado]

I just think its interesting how at the very end of the story, we see Merlin walking past Avalon, the place where he sent off Arthur all those centuries ago. There are many different ways the scene could've went on to display his everlasting loyalty. It easily could've been a scene where maybe Merlin was with his wife and a kid who was named after Arthur, or he became a historian/scholar who kept the Arthurian legends alive after everything he went through or maybe even a physicist trying to build a time machine, find a loop in time to go back and fix the past.

But no.

We see him all alone, old and unequivocally miserable. No longer meddling with fate nor trying anything at all. Lost in a world beyond time that no man should live past or would even be able to comprehend. We see that he never moved on from Arthur, having somewhat a glimmer of hope deep within him. Nobody speaks about how insanely difficult it must have been to have hope especially when you have no end to your own life. As mortals, we can't even bear grief for a short period of time. Yet, Merlin lived the cursed life of an immortal, a life where he will only keep losing everyone he's ever loved. A life full of grief.

In the modern world shown, nobody even believes in magic or practises it and yet he...still believes that someday Arthur will return to him. In the past, he reiterates that he just wants Arthur to see that everything he does is for him. He tells Hunith that Arthur only likes him because he doesn't know him. We see he acknowledges that Arthur is doing acts of service because he likes him yet Merlin couldn't be satiated because he still wasn't his true self to Arthur. To be seen and known for who you truly are is to be loved, that is all he ever wanted from Arthur, even from the very beginning of their relationship.

"You never once sought any credit"

"Its not why I do it"

During the magic reveal, he said "I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you.", still desperately wanting it to be known that his entire life was devoted to Arthur. There was no talk about legalising magic and whatnot between them either after that. He only kept repeating that he was born to serve Arthur. We see in real time just how much he meant when he said "There will never be another like you, Arthur." Evidently, he meant that Arthur is the Once and Future King but it also plays out for Merlin, because there never was anyone like Arthur in his life after that. To the point where he could find no purpose upon losing Arthur.

And yes he keeps saying that its his destiny to be Arthur's servant, that he grew up and learned the meaning of duty but is that really all it is? Towards the end, it was apparent that Merlin's objective was no longer for magic to be accepted in Camelot (as much as he wanted it). Ever since he found out about Arthur's Bane, it was all about keeping him alive. Even when the great dragon told him that there is nothing he could do anymore, Merlin could not accept to lose Arthur. "I can't lose him, he's my friend." It didn't matter that magic isn't legal yet in Camelot. He could not give two fucks about it anymore or else we would've seen magic in the future scene. One can assume that he completely stopped trying to find a solution. Or even lost the will to live.

What I'm trying to say is that, the final scene really is more than just an epilogue to show his loyalty, immortality and despair. If you think about it for a moment, it shows that somewhere along all the fights, snide remarks, banter, and what he and Arthur think isn't exactly a friendship, - they're stupid, don't mind that - he was in love with Arthur. And Arthur loved him in return even in the face of death as the truth came crumbling down. Its not as simple as 'falling in love' because, I don't think Merlin woke up one day and realised that he was inconveniently in love with the idiot arrogant prince who was tied to him by fate.

Their love was inevitable but it definitely stopped becoming destiny and duty a long time ago, it became a choice. "I'm happy to be your servant till the day I die". Merlin was, and I quote "putting up" with Arthur not because it was his life sentence to do so; it was because he wanted to. The worst thing of all is: Merlin chose to do it for the rest of his life.

[pinkrangersarah]

what's even more unexpected than a season 5 announcement, is me actually getting back on my bullshit and thinking about max's parents. (yeah, i just rewatched parent's day and, yeah, i got a little teary eyed, don't fucking look at me.)

it's canon that max's parents are inattentive to him; they "don't care" about him. it's popular for people to headcanon that they are also physically abusive to him (despite no evidence supporting this in the show), and i remember a while back seeing some theories that his parents are actually foster parents. over the years i've come to dislike these theories, the former having nothing to back it up and the latter getting under my skin because of how the foster care system is in real life--broken, with children often falling into the hands of horrible people. i've come to really dislike media feeding into that reputation.

in trying to come up with my own ideas for max's parents, i started looking into marital traditions and the views of divorce in indian culture. max states in "camp cool kidz" that his parents left their home country (although i'm willing to bet the reason he gives isn't entirely true, if it's true at all), so we can assume that they were married in india. i found an article by shibani joshi, where she talks about her experience with marriage and divorce. arranged marriage is a tradition in many indian cultures and, according to joshi, india has one of the lowest divorce rates, and divorce can bring shame to families, particularly to women.

in her story, joshi makes it clear that she wanted to put her children first; that if she was really going to go through with divorce, it wouldn't be until after her youngest turned 18. she was afraid of what her family would think if she and her now ex-husband divorced. because of this, i'd be hesitant to make a similar case with max's parents; i wouldn't want to potentially smear a cultural tradition and anxieties of a group of people. with how max describes his parents, i wouldn't feel good about it (or perhaps i'm overthinking it).

however, what if his parents wanted to avoid those traditions? before i turned away from this fandom, i used to headcanon that they were young and naive (barely 20) when they had max. i could still see that being the case; perhaps neither of them wanting to go through with arranged marriages, despite that being a generational tradition in their families. consider max's parents leaving india to start over somewhere in america, similar to how joshi describes her father starting a new life in america.

this inevitably takes a turn for the worst, as they are still in those young "finding yourself" stages of life and, on top of that, are trying to settle into a new life in a new country with a baby. the marriage gets strained, and as the two parents take out their frustrations on one another, max is often ignored as a result. "i'm busy, ask your father." "i'm busy, ask your mother." communication falls apart and max is often forgotten about at school, the parents spending more time blaming each other rather than comforting their child. one parent signs him up for after school activities he isn't interested in doing because it's cheaper than hiring a sitter and neither parent is willing to compromise on their work schedules. his parents aren't involved in any aspect of his life, unless they are called in for it (parent-teacher conferences, "max was sent to the principal's office again"), because they are too focused on themselves and their own lives not meeting their expectations. eventually, max learns that negative attention is better than no attention at all. emotional neglect is still abuse, even if it isn't immediately noticeable.

i highly doubt anyone is going to read this, but to anyone who does: what are your thoughts? i'm 100% open to constructive criticism (especially if i've stepped on any toes in regards to culture and traditions, it's the very last thing i want to do) and anyone else's takes on max's parents. i definitely have other headcanons, but if i'm really hopping back onto my bullshit then i'll most likely share them another day.

[tasklinemgr]

Satellite Headcanons... Part 2!

Back with another Satellite Investor post, this time with a focus on each of their origins and appearances.

Charon: He was originally a pilot of private aircraft, until he lost his license after a crash. (Authorities differ on whether he was the one responsible.) His shell was mangled in the incident, but as far as he knows, the rest of the damage from it has all been repaired. Though, some days, he does find himself feeling a little more sore than he should be. The scandal from the whole thing made him basically unhirable anywhere else, and that's how he ended up turning to a life of crime. Charon doesn't have many notable features appearance-wise, aside from his strabismus. He does have a built-in GPS, as well as other navigational systems.

Hydra: He's actually an ordinary cog, who was built in some far-off factory to do ordinary cog things. And through a ridiculous series of events (which would take far too long to cover in their entirety) caused by both his horrid luck and his unpleasant demeanor, he ended up having to run from home and leave everything behind. And then he ended up in the middle of a war against cartoon animals, and also as part of the mafia. He's covered in scratches and dents from... various incidents, and has very pronounced canines.

Nix: Nobody knows where Nix came from. Nix doesn't even know where Nix came from. There isn't a single record of her origins, not even in her own memory. For a while, she didn't even legally exist (and that's why she had to take up illegal work). Nix' past (or lack thereof) doesn't bother her much on the day-to-day, but sometimes she can't help but wonder just what the meaning of all the mystery is. Nix runs much quieter than the average cog, and upon close inspection, one can see that her joints are constructed in a way that minimizes the noise they make. Also, she has padded feet.

Kerberos: He was built, alongside a team of other cogs just like him, to explore an uncharted, frigid wilderness. The group's first and only expedition ended in disaster, with Kerberos being the only one to make it home alive. Not wanting to be sent off to die somewhere else, Kerberos stole a large sum of money from the place that made him and then ditched them for good. Continuing in that vein of things, it eventually found itself working among Cosmo and his boys. It had to discard his original shell cause it would've gotten too hot otherwise. Yes, even in the Coal and Ice District. Kerberos has several large tubes connected to his body, meant to hold (and dispense) excess oil.

Styx: This guy was an experiment. A test of the limits of cog design, created with one key purpose in mind: to always get back up again. At first glance, he might seem more fragile than the average cog, but by being built to "break" along designated points, he can easily be put back together again and keep fighting. Er, that was the idea, anyway. In practice, it's honestly a bit of an inconvenience, and so he was deemed a failure and abandoned. As for how he ended up in the business of organized crime? It was probably inevitable, given the less-than-legal circumstances of his creation. Other features of Styx' include his large fangs (which seem to have been made for puncturing things) and the fact it's near impossible for him to fully shut down.

[samieree]

Born in Flames || Game of Thrones

OC x ?😏

-> Chapter X "Be careful"

Chapter XI ''Why?''

She was shocked, that was her reaction to these words. Did he just... Offer to kill Daenerys for her...? Where did he get the idea that she wanted this? And what makes him think that if her aunt lives, there will be a massacre in Astapor? How can he walk up to her just like that and say such things?

"What? No...!" she replied after the first shock had passed, although she still couldn't believe what she heard.

She wanted to say something else, dozens of thoughts were running through her head, which she tried to weave into one sentence, but a scream behind her interrupted her.

"You!" she turned sharply away from Roran, noticing that the Slave Market was suddenly no longer so crowded. "How dare you? How dare you call yourself her family?"

She felt like she was in a dream when this man - whom she had feared ever since she met her aunt - Jorah Mormont, had a sword pointed at her. She recognized the same glow of hatred in the blue eyes as in her dream, but also sadness and disappointment.

"Lower your sword." Ser Arthur stood in front of her, sword already drawn. His voice was unusually calm for the situation they were currently in.

"How can you call yourself a knight? How can you defend her if you know what she's planning?"

"Put your sword away." he repeated, not referring to any of the accusations thrown at him.

"No." the word was almost as sharp as the sword itself.

Visenya instinctively took a few steps back. She wanted to somehow stop what was about to happen. She didn't want to see any of them die, even though - believing the stories she had heard or read - she already knew the outcome of this fight... Yet despite this, she was now in fear for her life in a way comparable to how she had been when she fled King's Landing.

Before she realized that bloodshed was unfortunately inevitable, she noticed something else...

"Where is Roran?" she said it quietly to herself. She quickly looked around, there were still some people in the market, although everyone was staying away from the knights who were pointing their swords at each other. Even with this amount of people, she could say that Roran was nowhere to be found. He ran away? He got scared? Or maybe...

How stupid I am... Stupid, naive child...

Before she could think it through, she ran back to where she and her aunt currently lived. Thoughts about the duel between the two knights were pushed to the back of her mind by the growing fear for Daenerys' life.

Ser Arthur was right, how could I not see that Roran was manipulating me? Is that even his name? Why is he doing this? Why does Jorah want to kill me? Was he manipulated too?

If she dies... I will never forgive myself. It's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault...

With these thoughts, she ran, squeezing between people. Some people looked at her like she was crazy as she ran past them, never slowing down. Sometimes she bumped into someone and hurriedly muttered an apology without even turning around.

Because of this, she didn't notice someone who was following her like a shadow.

It was already getting dark when she ran into the house, she couldn't even see much because the candles didn't provide enough light to enlighten the entire room. In this light there were no signs of any struggle, did she panic unnecessarily? But if Dany was at home, she probably would have come out to her by now, or at least said something...

Maybe she also went somewhere? No, impossible, Jorah would be next to her then, he wouldn't leave her alone outside the house...

What if she sent him to kill me?

She didn't know what to think anymore... Was Daenerys also manipulated by Roran? Did he talk to her too, wanted to turn her against her niece? Or maybe he told her that I wanted to get rid of her? That would explain Jorah's words...

Everything in her head instantly froze when she entered the room where the dragons were kept. as soon as she crossed its threshold, she was struck by the squeals of these animals, as well as the sight of a bleeding woman lying on the floor. She immediately rushed to her, placing her hand on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, even though it was too late.

She felt tears welling up in her eyes and immediately flowing down her cheeks. It hurt more than the knowledge of what had happened to her parents and siblings... She had no influence on those deaths, she could mourn them, it could hurt like hell, but she had never known them, so she quickly stopped crying at the memory of their stories. But now... She was directly responsible for it. It was her stupidity and naivety that cost her aunt her life. She had already gotten to know her and like her, she was good, she was so good... She could have done so much good, she shouldn't have landed under the cold ground, Visenya should have been there as a punishment for her mistakes, not her.

"Why?" she raised her tearful gaze at Daenerys, who said these words with obvious difficulty. She saw regret in her eyes. Even if she was told that Visenya had decided to kill her, she wasn't angry, but disappointed... Devastated that her niece turned out to be such a person...

But that's a lie! I didn't want to! In this short time I have managed to love you, I would never want you to die!

"I didn't... I'm sorry... I didn't... I... I didn't mean to..." the tears prevented her from speaking, much less seeing if Daenerys had heard it before her vision went blank. She almost choked on her tears as she rested her head on her aunt's chest and closed her eyes.

She didn't try to control herself, she didn't want to. She should despair at her stupidity, it was her fault, if she had been smarter, if she had listened to ser Arthur and his suspicions, this would not have happened.

She felt so terrible that she didn't even think that the killer might still be in the house, or even in the same room. Or she thought about it, but she wasn't going to worry about it? If she dies, it will be an appropriate punishment. Maybe she will find solace in death? Maybe she will be overwhelmed by darkness and emptiness, where she won't feel anything? So what if she doesn't feel joy anymore, if she has never really experienced it anyway? So what if she doesn't feel joy, if now she is consumed by sadness and if it left with her soul, it would be easier for her body. Even if it were to lie a few meters underground.

A few steps away from her, a candle flame reflected in the blade of a dagger covered in blood. Roran slowly raised his weapon, silently approaching his next target. He was already standing right behind her. He carefully crouched down to give himself a good opportunity to strike her right in the back.

He was about to swing and plunge the blade into Visenya's back when suddenly the sword stuck into his back and came out on the other side.

Hearing these sounds behind her, Visenya instinctively raised her head and turned towards the attacker crouching behind her with a sword piercing his chest.

"Who do you work for?" shaking, she barely understood these words, and in the darkness she couldn't recognize the face of the person who saved her. She moved back against the wall and wrapped her arms around her knees, trying to somehow control the shaking of her body.

The man remained silent, even though he didn't have much time left. It seemed that he would not betray the person who had commissioned him to do all this, but when the defender twisted the sword stuck in his chest, he choked something out of his throat. It was very slurred and softly spoken - or rather groaned - but it was understandable.

Spider.

She knew who had that nickname.

The murderer's body fell to the ground and after a while blood began to ooze out of it, staining the floor.

Immediately afterwards, another person rushed into the room, visibly nervous at first, but the sight of the man who had saved Vis and herself seemed to calm him down a bit. Visenya was still quite distant and didn't see who she owed her life to, but she wasn't going to change that anytime soon. She kept her eyes on the floor, tears already drying on her cheeks. Her hand was still dirty with Daenerys' blood, some of it soaked into her clothes as she hugged her knees.

I have her blood on my hands. Ser Jorah's too, if he's dead...

Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan looked at her and whispered briefly to each other before Arthur told him to leave him alone with Visenya for a moment. He approached her slowly and crouched down next to her. At first she didn't notice it, as if she was still stuck in her own reality.

"You killed him...?" she asked, sobbing softly. He nodded in response, and she cried a little louder for a moment. "It's all my fault..." she raised her eyes a little, directing them towards the dragons locked in their cages, who were constantly screeching and demanding attention. "I don't deserve anything, what will I do now..." she hid her face in her hands.

"Everyone makes mistakes... It's important not to give in to them and learn from them. As long as you live, you can still change things." She shook her head, as if not accepting Ser Arthur's words. This mistake was catastrophic, how can he just accept it as a lesson and move on? "If you just sit there and cry, they won, it will all be in vain." she still didn't want to listen to him, even though some part of her told her that he was right. If she continues to despair, it will be as if the murderer had achieved his goal and destroyed her. It's just hard to accept a mistake when it has had such terrible consequences... "Do you want it to drag you down like it happened to your father?"

At the mention of her father, she slowly removed her hands from her face and looked at Ser Arthur.

She looked... Maybe not horrible, but definitely like a picture of despair. Her eyes were red from crying, her cheeks were wet with tears, and she was sniffling. She looked like she could fall to pieces at any moment. In this terrible condition, she had to find the strength to wipe her tears and decide to move on. He can't do it for her, no matter how much he wants to.

"Don't dwell on what you did wrong. Learn from it and leave it behind, don't go back to it, don't let it drag you down. This is the way of the world, cruel and merciless, no matter whether you are a good person or a criminal." he paused to think about how he wanted to put into words what else he wanted to say to her, before continuing, in a slightly quieter voice. "You have a gentle heart. Now you could consider it a flaw, say that it only bothers you... But if you decide to move on, gain strength and support, you can change the world for the better. I believe that nothing happens without a reason. The same way I believe in you."

As he said this, her eyes remained focused on him. She knew he was right that she couldn't grieve and dwell on this moment forever, or it would eventually come to define her life. But...

Can she change the world? If it's cruel, how could one soft-hearted person change it? How can she find the strength to make bold and sometimes difficult decisions to change this world for the better? How will she know what is good? Why should anyone listen to her, follow her vision of the world? How to find the strength to get up, wipe your tears, look yourself in the face and say: I screwed up, but it's not over yet.

I owe it to her. The thought suddenly flashed through her mind.

If she wasn't going to move on for herself, she should do it for Daenerys, for her goal. She is dead because of her, but her goal is not dead, she can pursue it. She owes her at least that much. That's right, if she gives up, the murderer and his employer will win. She can't let this happen. 

Daenerys would not allow that. As far as she was able to get to know her, she knew that she had been through a lot in life and had finally learned to turn suffering into motivation, into strength. She should learn the same. She should be like her or better, if possible.

Not only for her, but also for all those people who suffer in chains. After all, she had lived as a slave for seventeen years and even so was treated better than all these people. She had never been punished as severely as they were. No one deserved this, no one deserved to die like these people from the Walk of Punishment.

For Selaria. For her, who stood first with her mother and then with her. She gave her life so that Visenya could run away and start a new life. Perhaps even avenge her family and claim the throne of the Seven Kingdoms.

For Ser Arthur, who turned out to be her true friend in all this, who did not abandon her, who saw her in her most vulnerable form and still did not abandon her saying that she is weak, but decided to help her get up from her knees.

She had just realized how naive she was, but at the same time she found the confidence to completely trust this knight and the oaths he made to her. If someone like Ser Arthur Dayne believed in her, then she should too.

"Thank you." they were just two words, but they expressed more than any monologue she could have ever delivered. In these words and that very gentle smile there was a promise of everything she had already promised herself in her head.

When she reached out to take his hand, it meant more than any possible declaration of trust. The squeeze of her hand gave as much encouragement and motivation as all the previous words put together.

I will be better. I will predict events. I will change the world for the better, I promise. For Daenerys. For Selaria. For myself. For everyone.

~

-> Chapter XII "Follow the vision of a better tomorrow" -> general masterlist -> Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon masterlist

[guideoftime]

Anonymous asked: How does Sheik handle Link's death? To other Links? Inu / you've reached the mun!

You have to remember that Sheik is a Warrior. So if you expect him to grieve it just won't happen. Not--not in the way one should grieve.

I actually wrote him doing it in my BOTW fan/fic. Sheik handles Time's death, as Wild words it, "The grave didn’t seem to startle the man as much as Link expected it would. / He handled the death of a friend with a skill that Link could only compare to a soldier." Sheik is a sage for a very long time, to him death is inevitable. He doesn't age as a sage, but he understands everyone around him does. To expect the world to not move, simply because he doesn't, is childish thoughts.

Sheik is trained to crush his emotions. To bury them far beneath whatever rock there is, to move on. Focusing on the task at hand, what is going on around him, is far more important than allowing his emotions to cripple him. This is also a skill taught to him by IMPA. So when faced with the reality that Time is actually gone, he processes it and moves on. Rather than allow himself to feel the emotions over it, he simply registers the words/understanding, more or less. Not allowing himself to focus on it, to feel.

Sheik sees all the "heroes" as seperate people. They are not Time, they're are not the man he knew. They're just the next one fucked by destiny. He has some fondness for them, simply for their shared connection to Time, but they inheritantly different. He doesn't just hand them his trust and stick the labels of the man he knew on them. The fondness, love, Sheik has for the "Hero" and even Princess Zelda, comes from their shared bond. Their connection. Which was to Time Link / Time Zelda. The man he guided for years and the woman he grew up with.

They're all different and he can see the differences.

( Below the cut is the excerpt from the fan/fic ie; Sheik faced with Time's grave )

   Link climbed out from beneath the other and stood to his feet, holding a hand out. Sheik watched him a moment before slowly letting go of his head and accepting the help. They got him to his feet and Link was pleased to see he was slowly regaining his sense of balance. He had no idea where they pulled the guy from but he moved like he’d been asleep for as long as Link was. Sheik tested his wrists, rolling them around, spinning weapons through his fingers that he just pulled from somewhere in his body suit. He shifted his shoulders, stretched his legs and then turned to Link. 

   He finally spoke and his voice sounded as soft as he looked yet as deadly as he was sure the Sheikah was. “My name is Sheik as you seem to know, the last of the Sheikah Warriors. You said the Hero sent me to aid you?” 

   The grave didn’t seem to startle the man as much as Link expected it would. He kept the conversation he had with the Hero to himself and the other didn’t ask, just stood at the foot of the grave with an unreadable expression on his face. He handled the death of a friend with a skill that Link could only compare to a soldier. It honestly made him feel bad for the other. He gave him his time, picking flowers and food he found on the ground in the small clearing. When Sheik seemed ready for him to approach Link made his way back over and sat the items he collected at the base of the tombstone. 

   It wasn’t much of an offering but he had little else and somehow he didn’t think the Hero would mind the lack of gold he had for an offering. Link still arranged it as nicely as he could and stood back up to face Sheik. 

   Sheik watched the grave still as he spoke. “Where are we?” 

   “The Lost Woods, the Korok lead me here with a song. I probably won’t be able to find my way out without them.”

   Sheik shook his head and turned to leave the clearing. “I can show you the way.” That only gave him more questions than answered. “We’ll discuss the problems you have once we’re out of here, you don’t want to get lost in the woods, it’s best to pay attention.” Despite the others back being to him he still nodded his head and quietly followed along. This time there was no music but the forest seemed to welcome the Sheikah as if he was an old friend. 

[amyisherenowitsokay]

Ooh, another one came to me when I sent the technology one.

In going back and reviewing the original MHNY trilogy plot, story, everything built between characters etc, what did you do? What did you decide to scrap, to keep, or to repurpose? You said you're aiming to branch away from 2 and 3 with something different, and disliked how you kept yourself to following the plot beats of the original first, right?

What does that clean slate look like? What pieces in Re:1 act as the catalyst to those further down in Re:2&3? The largest ones are obvious, (obviously) the big glaring plot changes. Are there more subtle ones? (don't have to say if you want to keep em a secret.)

Or, just, what things thru all three stories made you die inside and scream why did you write that? (I feel like you have a list.)

I'm gonna answer with spoilers because I'm having a good time answering these. These are HEAVY spoilers for the direction of the fic. As Re:MHNY2 is currently aiming at a Spring release date, I feel more lax about it's secrets, but still. If you don't want to know, don't look.

CW// Mentions of sexual themes, explicit themes, the briefest of mentions of non-con as a theme

This is a really fun question in particular, because it was really something I wrestled with just in the conception of this fic series so many months ago, going back and forth with "do I want to do a rewrite? and if I do, knowing I had a second chance, what would I fix?"

I'll fully admit there are people who remember my fics better than I do (I am looking respectfully at @rllybritrlly whenever literally anything about From Your Memory gets brought up). That meant I really needed to reread my original fics to even remember all the details, what I wrote about them, read my cringe tween A/N's, etc. As Re:1 was the baby that started it all, I really wanted to pay as much homage as possible to it. Also, even so many years later, I still liked the overall plot, even if I felt the details could've been better executed, and I could've done without the various problematic themes. I think I've given the lengthy answer before, somewhere, but the short of it is mostly these major points:

I didn't like the weird sexually exploitative relationship between Zim/Gaz with the kissing/touching. Additionally, I knew I could make the inevitable ZAGR kiss way more dramatic if it was roped into the climax instead of just randomly thrown in the mix in problematic ways from the mid-arc. I LOVED writing the kiss in the rewrite, and it was actually one of the first scenes I rewrote, even before officially announcing/confirming the rewrite.

I didn't like Gaz and Dib's relationship. I love cruel, troubled Gaz, but I don't think it benefited the story to make her so constantly dismissive of Dib, to the point where he was sometimes written like an afterthought. I think IZ as a whole benefits from the complex relationships the characters have with one another, and the Re:MHNY series could benefit from developing those changing relationships rather than stagnating on them.

I had no idea when writing the original MHNY that I was ever going to do a sequel, or the direction of the finale. It was originally a one-and-done until I think the second-to-last chapter, when I decided I had more to write, and liked my readership too much to give it all up with a one-hit-wonder. Now that I know where the finale goes, I really wanted the opportunity to drop more lore, hints, and foreshadowing. The biggest example is Tak, whose name I basically borrowed as recognizable since I was too lazy to make a one-off OC, and only after-the-fact found a way to reweave her back into the third installment. Tak's fate is not going to be the same as it was in the original, and also, in the first rewritten fic, we got more insight into her personality. Not a lot, granted, but enough where the reader would be able to notice changes later on.

Discerning readers may have noticed that I kept the same amount of chapters in the rewrite as I did the original. If you compare chapters 1:1, a lot of the bigger themes parallel one another. Gaz is still ensnared by alien parasitic technology in chapter 1 of the rewrite as she was in the original, albeit in much bloodier circumstances. Zim's motorcycle/car chase in the original in chapter 6 is paralleled by the chase in chapter 6's rewrite, even though the circumstances are vastly different. Zim feigning a long-term, committed relationship in chapter 17 of the rewrite is a big nod to the original, in which Zim bartered for Gaz's life on the premise that they were more together than they really were, even with the kissing/touching premise they had with one another. Additionally, the theme of 'Zim hacks the Valkian ship' stays, even if it's once again executed under different circumstances. The details change, yes, but ultimately the Valkians are still slaughtered. That dedication I made towards keeping Re:MHNY1 as 1:1 as possible was a fun challenge in its way, but it's not going to happen in the sequels.

Regarding Re:mhny2 and Re:mhny3, I will only be borrowing the most basic of premises. As announced earlier this year, Iggins is still in the next fic. However, his differences are major, and a closely guarded secret I have only really shared with I think my internet bestie and my boyfriend. Again, anyone not looking for spoilers may want to skip this ask.

Some sneaky secrets are how I left whether or not Gaz went back to finish the tournament ambiguous. Additionally, that unlike the finale of the original MHNY, Gaz and Dib do not ever have another 'on-screen' discussion after she's rescued. Zim and Dib do, yes, but Gaz and Dib do not. There's a joke in Ch 20 about Zim showing up in his living room with cocoa, but the nature of any sibling conversations, if any even occurred, are also left deliberately absent and/or ambiguous. It's noted that they spent the majority of the aftermath resting, and really not a lot else. The most screen time Dib gets is being thrown out of the operating room in the flashback.

Unlike the original, where Tak was originally just used as a throwaway name-drop when I was too lazy to make an Irken OC or find another way to justify why someone might call to warn Zim about the Valkians, or even know who he was, I currently know Tak's fate in the rewrite, and I knew it when I wrote it, too, which means I got to sneak in that little ominous line of the Tallest when hearing her report in Ch 20.

“Now,” he said, doing his best to shrug off the strain of morning. “Go get that she-Irk again.”

A discerning reader might also have noticed Professor Membrane is not brought home, and never told what actually happened. Aside from some angsty pining from the Membrane siblings, his personal involvement ends when Dib abandons him at his conference and comes home for Gaz. That being said, there's also an interesting few paragraphs that have been brought up and pointed out to me individually before on Discord, and that other readers may have picked up on as well from Ch 18 that are going to be important to the sequels.

She hated this. She hated hiding herself behind veils of cynical wit and aloofness just to survive—to barely endure while she festered inside. She hated her father, drilling into her how uncomfortable people could be around her. That scaring people was wrong. That friends and admiration from peers were so very important. Don’t be angry, Gazlene. Be motivated! Don’t be frightened of change! Embrace it!

Zim had never demanded change. Zim had only ever ripped out the honesty, the worst parts of Gaz that she had buried under years of practiced apathy, and embraced them with open fascination. Sick. Accepting. Conniving.

You killed an Elite, his voice whispered, a caress on trembling limbs.

She had. She remembered every vivid detail like a flash bomb. The fear. The rage. The burning resentment. The same theme over and over. That she never should’ve been there. She never should’ve been here . That something had tried to take her life over nothing . That she had every right to fear for her life. 

The flashbacks that left her breathless. The fear, genuine, and yet underlied with something she dared not admit to even herself. Years of her fathers conditioning cushioning the awful truth of his daughter. She was just a teenage girl—once a child—who should never have been formed this way.

His son had inherited his father’s bravery and passion to learn, and twisted it into a dangerous recklessness. A need for pursuit and answers at all costs.

His daughter had inherited her father’s calculating practicality, and it had mutated into a vicious willingness to do the very worst thing for the necessary reason.

You killed an Elite, she heard once more. 

But this time, a loathsome truth followed. 

And you want to do it again.

As trademark as Gaz's viciousness is throughout the IZ series in general, and in this fic, her strict restraint being pinned on her father's discipline may seem out of place with only this fic to go off of. While it can definitely be read as a standalone, it does (deliberately) give the reader pause. Professor Membrane praises Gaz in the series for being his favorite child, not for being a menace to society as a whole, so where's this coming from? Why are Zim and Professor Membrane playing devil-and-angel-on-her-shoulder in her (concussed) brain? And notably, if that's their assigned role, where Membrane is the voice of restraint, and Zim the voice of rationality, then it should be noted that Zim's voice won. This should leave you asking why that is, and if that's always going to be the case.

A funner teaser is some foreshadowing I dropped throughout the story about what mating is going to look like in this fic. I wrote a lot of what I wrote about sex, love, and marriage under a heavy veil of religious indoctrination, which distorted and I think damaged the potential creativity of my writing. Virginity-cultural stigma somehow shoe-horned its way into my fic, and I don't really want that to happen again, which means there's going to be a lot more lewd scenes leading up to a sexual relationship. We're not just gonna have our characters go from making out to full penetrative sex. That's skipping quite a few bases. I've expanded behind the scenes a lot more information about Irken culture/mating, and while penetrative sex has been established as off-limits until such a time as our two heroes may deign to bind themselves to one another for eternity, I am not going to leave you hanging in the meantime. Some hints however about what mating looks like in the rewrite have been dropped, such as this nibble in Ch 9.

As he'd briefly gone over with the human girl, irken rituals of courtship were far different than any found on Earth. There was no religious entity or documentation, and the ceremony required complete isolation for at least three days.

and

He could never have that with Gaz. For one thing, she had no PAK. Well, she did, but it didn't actually count. Any attempt to encode the PAK was pointless, and furthermore, the PAK wasn't integrated to her brain the way it was to Zim's, or any other Irken's. It held no influence, and no significance to her decisions. While Zim's PAK may bind him for eternity, the human wouldn't be bound by anything other than the whims of her fleeting, mortal affection.

I outright name the ceremony in Re:mhny2, and also plan on further establishing teasers here and there about what's in store.

Skoodge is also a big teaser in himself! Skoodge is a competent invader and a traitor to the Empire, whom Zim has explicitly expressed allyship towards. He is definitely going to be important later on.

Regarding what a clean slate looks like for the sequels, I'll go ahead and name some big ones off the bat. Again, spoilers.

In Re:mhny2, Iggins is ultimately the antagonist, but whether or not he's the or even a villain is going to be something I look forward to watching readers debate about. That's what I mean by clean slate. Iggins was inarguably the bad guy and a major shithead in the original sequel. In the rewrite, Iggins may be a shithead, but what I really disliked about the original was how one-dimensional he was. Additionally, I think it's a more interesting story not for the protagonists to overcome the antagonist in a linear journey, but for the antagonist to grab the protag's by the neck and drag them into the mud with them. What if the hero's journey isn't upward, but one where simply keeping afloat equates success? What if not drowning is the victory? Metaphorically speaking, Re:mhny2 is going to start with fearless characters and end with characters who never look at the ocean the same way again, and are wizened for it.

Whereas the original was just kind of 'watch these characters be badass and mercilessly inflict pain on a bad guy' Re:mhny2 is basically going to be a lot of character self-reflection. I love the IZ characters for their flaws, but we're not going to get real, raw growth out of them if they're not forced to take on their own misdeeds and mistakes by metaphorical knifepoint. Re:mhny2 is going to be about them and the knife. And by them, I mean all 3 of the main cast, plus Iggins.

Re:mhny3 is similar. I'm excited to write about Iggins, but I am ecstatic to get another shot about a Zim-pocalypse. Enter the Florpus gave me so much new source material about what Zim successfully taking over the Earth, even for a short while, would look like, and I'm grateful for its contributions to the finale's development. Zim is still going to take over the Earth. Why, how, and under what circumstances is drastically different, and since its release is much farther out than the sequel, I will restrain myself to only give you this single, but eye-opening question when I talk about major, complete deviations from the plot. I have always regretted my impatience with MHNY3 for many things, but mostly one:

Wouldn't it have been a much more interesting story if Gaz really didn't know what was going on?

I'll just leave that thereeeeee.

For your last question, and one that makes me laugh to even look at, I do have a mental list. I'm pretty sure this'll be the first time I've ever written it down though.

Here are my top ten cringe moments from the original series as a whole, from cringiest to least:

The entirety of every sex scene I ever wrote

Ever writing the phrase "And they hadn't even done anything yet!" during a sex scene -- this is so ingrained in my cringe that I can, even now, tell you exactly where it is in the fic, the context, and wrote it without even needing to reference the phrasing

Implying Iggins would SA Gaz while she was under his thrall, and incapable of consenting (for concerned readers, non-con is not going to pop up in my stories again, and I apologize in hindsight for any discomfort caused)

Zim and Gaz's sexually transactional relationship, especially while Gaz was 14

Gaz getting married when she was only 18 (Gaz is already going to be 18 in the sequel, and will probably be in here early-to-mid twenties in the finale)

Dib being used as a punching bag for Zim and Gaz to be cruel to for cheap gags

Making the Tallests simps for Zim for really no reason other than that I was a simp for Zim and wanted to give him nice things lmao

Tak just sort of popping up out of nowhere as a maid, and blatantly borrowing the themes of servants being 'furniture' from the anime When Seagulls Cry/Umineko

That fucking weird ass segment where I had Gaz have prophetic nightmares (?) in the third one, and wander around a castle like some sort of haunted Victorian child. Really the whole castle scenes themselves were cringe. Get rid of the castle. Wipe it from your minds.

Making Gaz and Zim essentially infallible, unbeatable, and just boring in how completely dominant they inevitably were to any problem that arose. It just sucked the tension out of every situation because I got too bored or impatient with scenes that otherwise could've been much more interesting than they were.

This ended up a lot longer than I anticipated, but I hope I answered everything sufficiently!

[teacupcollector]

The Snake and The Panther - Part 2

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

Summary-  Being married to Loki was all you wanted when he first decided to court you. It was like a Cinderella story and this was your happy ending. Sadly that was short lived when you found out about his infidelity. You are now on the planet Earth on the run from your inevitable confrontation. Living off the lands of Wakanda under the great leadership of the Black Panther himself and he seems to have taken an interest in you.

The only thing you were thinking was leaving. You needed to leave and get away from this place you call home. When you arrived at the Bifrost Heimdall still in his forward facing position tunes into you. “Why are you hear Mrs. Laufeyson?” You grunt at your last name but choose to let your anger subside. You know Heimdall isn’t to blame so you decide to give a vague explanation. 

“I would like to leave.” You say trying to keep your voice steady. “And nothing for your journey?” “Heimdall you are all-seeing and all-hearing. You know why I want to leave.” Heimdall hums in agreement. “You have only ever traveled through the Bifrost once. Are you sure you wouldn’t want someone to accompany you?” He asks and you nod. “Heimdall please...I want to leave.” You say solemnly “Where do you wish to go?” He asks and you sigh and pick at your nails. “Somewhere safe? Maybe... Where I can start over? Hide away where nothing can hurt me. Heimdall nods and prepares to open the Bifrost. “When will you be returning?” You begin to step through as it activates. “I... I don’t know if I will...” You say and turn toward him one more time. “Good bye Heimdall.” You say and step through. The bright lights of the Bifrost are blinding. Maybe Heimdall was right about having someone accompany you because as of right now you are flailing and stirring around with no control of your limbs. You didn’t even ask where he was sending you. For all you know you are being sent into the middle of an ocean or a war zone! But you knew Heimdall better then that. That thought alone was what kept you mostly calm  as you try and gain your control back. You also thought about Loki. Would he even notice you were gone? If he does would he even bother to look for you? Is he happy you are gone? All these thoughts were upsetting but you didn’t have time to think about anything else when suddenly you hit the ground. Everything went black T’challa sat upon his throne surrounded by the multiple tribe leaders from across Wakanda. They were in the middle of a heated debate when some of the Dora Milaje comes into the room. “What is it?” He asks startled at their loud entrance. “Something has entered our Northern force field. What ever it is broke right through it.” One of the warriors say. “I have already sent some to that location but we would like it if you’d follow.” They say and the king nods. “Give me a few moments and I will be right there.” He says as he stands. “I am afraid I must have this meeting cut short.” M’Baku stands up as well. “I will accompany you. You don’t know what threat you might face.” He says and T’challa  nods before exiting the throne room and going to his chambers to get out of his formal wear and into his fighting gear which is ultimately he Black Panther Suit. He is soon making his way toward the breach. In his company was a number of The Dora Milaje, M’Baku, and his sister Shuri. Shuri claims that she needs to see the damage of the force field but in reality she is really looking for some form of adventure. As they approach they see a multitude of lines that charred the grass. This catches T’challas attention. The group is approached my the Warriors who were first on the scene. “We have seen these markings before My King but I am unsure of who this visitor is...” She says when Okoye. Steps forward blocking T’challa from the possible threat. T’challa only nods as he and his group walk forward. As he moves past the group of women pointing their spears at their target he sees a woman laying in the middle of the circle. He takes a few steps closer to examine her. She is clad in magnificent fabric that isn’t local to anywhere in Wakanda. Her (H/L) (H/C) is matted and muddied by the dirt she is laying in. Her face is covered by her hair as he squats down and moves it to see more of her (S/C) skin. He moves two fingers to the pulse point of her neck and feels for it. “She is alive.” T’challa announces. “She is from Asgard I am assuming so right now she is a guest. Please have her taken home and dressed in more comfortable clothes.” He says standing up and some of the woman gather around her and pick her up. “Are you sure this is wise T’challa?” M’Baku asks taking ahold the crook of his elbow. “She could be a threat.” T’challa only responds with. “We are at peace with Asgard. I know they wouldn’t willingly send someone to harm us. We must give this woman a chance.” M��baku only grunts as he removes his hand from him. As they make their way back Shuri makes her way beside her brother. “I wonder how Nakia will feel about this.” T’challa looks over at her shocked. “What?” He asks somewhat taken aback. “Why would she wonder about this?” He asks and Shuri smirks. “A beautiful woman who was sent by the Gods appear on our doorstep. I feel like this is the beginning of an end.” She says with a laugh. “What end do you mean? “ He shakes his head before sighing. “You speak nonsense sister. You read to many romance novels.” Shuri pouts. “As for Nakia we are working things out...” Shuri only rolls her eyes. “You say that every time brother. I just hope you don’t let this go to your head.” She says before falling back to look at the mysterious stranger.

You slowly wake looking up at a tall ceiling. You gasp sitting up fully. You look to see a woman in armor with a spear at her side. “It is good that you are awake. I will get My King at once.” She says bowing her head before exiting the room. You look around shocked as you remove the thick blanket and  placing your feet on the ground. You stand up slowly and move about the room. You look around to see a wardrobe with a mirror. You walk up to it and see that your clothes have been changed and your hair has been let down from your formal up-do. You see a window and walk up to it. As you look out you see a sunset over a vast field. You can see animals doted over the landscape. looking over you can see some buildings. You have never seen any building like the ones you were looking at. You were in awe of everything. Never had you seen a sunset as beautiful as this one. Even the air smelled and felt different. You were brought out of your trance by a knock on the door. “C-come in...” You say in Asgardian. A man walks in donning black formal robes with his hands clasped behind his back. “Hello.” He says gently as to not scare you. “Do you speak English?” You nod slowly. “Would it be alright if we talk?” He asks and you nod.  He gestures to a table and chairs set in the middle of the room. You slowly walk over and sit down clasping your hands in front of you on your lap.  “You are from Asgard correct?” You nod keeping your eyes anywhere but him. “I am T’challa. I rule over the country of Wakanda.” You look at him for a moment. He seems patient and keeps a small, kind smile on his face. “Is this an Alien Planet? What Realm am I in?” You ask and he chuckles. “I am afraid you are the Alien. You are on Earth.” You look shocked. “Midgard!” You exclaim. “I believe that is what you Asgardians all it. Yes.” “I apologize for my outburst Your Majesty.” You say bowing your head quickly. “No need for that miss. Now what is your name?” He asks and you look up again. “I am Lady (Y/N) of As- Uh... Just (Y/N) is fine. I’m sorry...” You says mumbling the last part. “No need to apologize (Y/N) but I would like to discuss your business here. We have never seen you before.” You shake your head. “I’m not hear for official business.” You say bowing your head. 

“I don’t feel comfortable talking about it but I will say is that I ran away... If you wish me not to stay I will leave immediately.” You say keeping your head down. T’challa nods. “No need to leave miss. I will gladly house you. I am sure whoever delivered you here does not mean us any harm so there is no reason for us to remove you.” You give a small smile. “Thank you T’challa. I am sorry for any damage the Bifrost may have caused.” He stands up with a smile. “No need for apologies. It wouldn’t be the first time this has happened.” He says as he bows his head. “I will be leaving now but I must ask as you are my guest.” You hum in question. “Would you like to accompany me for dinner? You must be hungry.” You nod as you stand up. “If that would be okay...” T’challa only smiles. “A friend of Thor is a friend of mine Lady (Y/N). I will send someone for you when dinner is ready.” He gestures his arm to the right of him toward the bed. “Please rest. I would hate it if you feel fatigued.” You nod and yawn. This makes T’challa chuckle before exiting and shutting the door behind him. Taglist @rainyrebelconnoisseur​

[slasherhaven]

If I may request, could I request the slashers (you can choose whichever!) getting ready to end their future s/o, before they meekly look up at them and ask ".. are you going to hurt me?" And if they give an answer or nod, s/o just nods solemnly and appears to accept their fate?

The slashers’ future S/O asking "Are you going to hurt me?":

Thomas Hewitt

When the true intentions of the Hewitt family made themselves knows, you ran. Of course you did, who wouldn’t?

You had managed to escape the house, running across the large field. But you were tired and the more you thought about it, the less likely escape seemed.

They would know the area better, the empty land spread for what felt like miles, the only thing waiting for you was a dusty road in the middle of nowhere that barely anyone drove down.

So you also came to a stop, panting slightly and beginning to accept that you were about to get killed somewhere in Texas.

You heard him coming, the chainsaw loud and filling you with nerves.

You turned to face him, seeing him walk towards you, chainsaw lowered and shutting off.

Thomas was confused as to why you had stopped running, why you had turned back to him with no real fear on your face.

"...are you going to hurt me?” your question surprised him. Of course you already knew the answer.

Your question was so soft, so...calm.

Thomas wasn’t sure how to respond to that. A victim had never spoken to him, never asked him a question. He came back to his senses and nodded.

You nodded solemnly and seemed to just being...waiting for something to happen. 

It tugged at Tommy’s heart, something within him was just telling him to not hurt you, that he actually had to protect you.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, guiding you back in the direction of the house. Maybe he could speak to Luda May about offering you a different fate.

Michael Myers

It was a normal night for Michael, he was looking for his next kill.

He had crept into your home and found you in the living room, watching the television. Spotting the intruder, you leapt up but recognising the mask from the news reports, you knew who it was and that running was hopeless. Nobody escaped him.

"...are you going to hurt me?” he wasn’t expecting the question. Normally it’s more screaming, pleading and running. But you’re just meekly looking up at him with acceptance on your face, you already knew the answer.

He nodded, deciding to humour you with a response. But then you surprised him again.

You just nodded solemnly, closing your eyes and hanging your head. Waiting for the piercing pain of his knife...but it never came

He has never had a victim accept their fate like that, it was almost discomforting, certainly discouraging. Yet also...intriguing. 

Suddenly the urge to kill you had faded, which actually annoyed Michael.

When no pain came, you curiously opened your eyes to find yourself along. He was gone...left as silently as he arrived. You couldn’t help but wonder when if he would return and, if he did, what he would want.

Jason Voorhees

Jason had cornered you in one of the cabins, where you had turned back to him. You didn’t look frantic or panicked, you just looked up at him meekly.

"...are you going to hurt me?” you asked quietly. You knew the answer was probably yes but maybe there was still some humanity left in the legend of camp crystal lake.

Jason was caught off guard by your question, by the softness in your voice, by how you seemed to accept your fate.

He had watched the group the arrived at the camp before making a move to deal with them. And he had seen you, you had caught his attention more than the others.

You’re gentle, sweet, understanding. You clearly aren’t like the other people Jason had seen you with at the camp.

His mother would have liked you and maybe that was what told him that he didn’t need to hurt you...but it wasn’t like he could let you leave.

He lowered his weapon some more, hoping that it would put you at ease at least a little bit.

He’d hold out his hand, a silent peace offering, and wait for you to hesitantly take it. Being patient and finding it adorable how much smaller your hand was than his.

Jason would guide you through the camp and woods safely, back to his cabin where you could rest.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms hadn’t been planning on revealing himself to you, not yet, but he had no choice. Somebody had broken into the house, mostly likely with the intention to steal anything of worth.

And Brahms couldn’t take the risk of them hurting you. Plus, he doesn’t like strangers in his home.

You had seen him burst out of the wall, killing the intruder. 

When he stood and turned to you, you were looking back at him with wide, unsure eyes.

"...are you going to hurt me?" you managed to ask.

It wasn’t difficult to put 2 and 2 together and figure out that Brahms was alive, all grown up, and standing in front of you.

Brahms is taken back because he doesn’t really know the answer. If you ran...he had no choice.

“...not if you stay” Brahms tells you and you nod, not seeming to fight your fate. “Are you going to stay?” he’d ask, needing an answer so he can know what to do.

You nodded again, still not screaming at him or running away. You’re not like the others, you’re better.

Brahms moves closer and you still don’t try to flee. He slowly wraps his arms around you, feeling a sense of victory when you carefully return his embrace.

You’ve accepted your fate here and you aren’t fighting it, he’s thankful for that because he had grown fond of you during your time in the house, he truly didn’t want to hurt you.

Bo Sinclair

You had run once you realised that something more sinister was happening in the town, but Bo had followed. And he had finally caught up with you.

Right then and there you knew that you had lost, that you barely ever had a chance, and you weren’t going to fight it.

So you turned to the man, not sure what he wanted from you but knowing it wasn’t good.

"...are you going to hurt me?" you asked, voice quiet as you gave in to your fate.

“Going to sooner or later. Might as well make it easy on yourself” Bo smirked but that cocky look slowly faded.

He had told plenty of people similar things before in the past, telling them to stop running and prolonging the inevitable. But none of them ever listened, of course they didn’t, they kept running and pleading, all in vain.

You though...you just nodded a little, not looking for a way out. A sad but oddly respectable surrender. You saw there was no way out, that you were at his mercy, and you just accepted it.

For a moment he pitied you, then respected you, then...well, he wasn’t sure how he felt.

But if you could keep a similar attitude, as in knowing that you aren’t leaving this town and that you can’t get one over on him, maybe there could be a place here for you.

Why he was even considering keeping you around, he wasn’t sure. But that didn’t matter, you were smart enough to know that you weren’t going anyway. So if he could trust you to not escape, he could trust you to help out around town. He’d just have to keep his eye on you.

Vincent Sinclair

You had been running from Bo, trying to escape him. Sprinting through the little town until you collided with something strong, making you stumble back and look up at the masked man.

Vincent hadn’t expected for you to run into him either, but he knew what he had to do now that he had you. Of only you weren’t looking up at him with such a gentle gaze.

“...are you going to hurt me?” you asked quietly, as if you knew that Vincent was the more timid brother.

He wasn’t sure how to respond, sure that you already knew the answer though. Bo would certainly hurt you without question but...well, he had been watching you since you walked into the town.

You had seemed gentle and sweet then and now even more so. 

Vincent didn’t respond but you took that as a ‘yes’. So you nodded, glancing down at your feet as you accepted your fate.

God, that confused him even more. How could he hurt you when you just seemed so...meek, like you had accepted your fate and were handing yourself over to him.

He wasn’t sure what came over him but when Bo came around the corner to catch you, Vincent placed a hand on your shoulder and moved you behind him. Standing between you and his brother.

Something within Vincent wanted to protect you, to wipe that sad look off of your face. He wondered what he could do to convince Bo to let him try.

Lester Sinclair

Lester had taken you into the town in the first place, as he does with most victims. What he didn’t expect was for you to escape and end up running into him again. He recognised you instantly, you had been kind and sweet during the drive into town

"...are you going to hurt me?" the question isn’t aggressive, not filled with disgust or fear, it’s quiet and soft.

Oh God...what kind of question is that. No, he can’t hurt you. Not when you ask him something like that, not when you look at him like that. 

You don’t even look afraid, just like you have accepted what is going to happen to you. It breaks his heart.

He isn’t going to hurt you...but his brothers would, he can’t risk that now. He couldn’t let that happen.

“Nah...nah, I ain’t gonna hurt ya. You’re alright with me. C’mon, let’s get you somewhere safe” he shook his head, holding his hand out to you.

It was supposed to be a kind gesture but he didn’t really expect you to take it. But you did and his heart clenched again. 

He wouldn’t let his brothers touch you, he’ll take you back to his house and protect you. He’ll fight Bo on the matter.

He’ll look after you, take responsibility over you! And he certainly isn’t going to hurt you.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba had been sent after you when the family decided that you were the next victim, which didn’t surprise him at all.

It didn’t take long for him to find you, honestly a little surprised to find you not panicking or running, just looking up at him with an expression he didn’t recognise.

“...are you going to hurt me?” your gentle question made him lower his chainsaw, it slowly shutting off.

Bubba really does have a soft heart and you just appealed to it completely. The way you meekly looked up at him, the sad but accepting expression on your face, how you didn’t scream at him or run from him.

He didn’t want to hurt you. Just look at you...he couldn’t hurt you.

They didn’t need to kill you, they had what they needed until the next lot of victims rolled through. You could be spared but there was no way you could leave, you could tell other people about what you saw and get them all in trouble...

Maybe Drayton would let you stay. His other brothers wouldn’t mind, they’re a lot to handle but they’d enjoy the new face, maybe he could convince Drayton if he promised to be responsible for you!

When Bubba moved closer to you, you didn’t panic, just became more timid. He couldn’t blame you for still being afraid.

He’d place the chainsaw down, reaching out to gently stroke your hair while making some incomprehensible babbling. He wanted to comfort you, you reassure you. 

Then he would take you to see his brothers...and try to convince Drayton that this would be alright for the family.

Billy Lenz

Of course, you had already been aware that somebody was targeting you and the others in the house. You had received your fair share of phone calls.

You had been sleeping but he hadn’t been quietly, you shot up in bed and looked at him, seeing the unfamiliar figure standing in the dark and holding something sharp. 

You knew it was the man on the phone, you weren’t stupid.

"...are you going to hurt me?" your voice was quiet but not afraid, a sad sort of acceptance on your face.

Billy froze. You weren’t supposed to wake up. You certainly weren’t supposed to talk to him. Scream, plead, beg, cry, sure he would expect that. But...not this.

He’d hesitate, not sure what to do. Seemingly as scared of you and you are of him. But he’d nod.

Surprising him again, you nodded. He could see the tears welling in your eyes but you didn’t panic, only accepted your fate and hung your head.

Billy kept his weapon in his hand, just in case this was a trick, and approached you.

“It’s okay, pretty piggy...Billy won’t hurt you...Billy likes you” he’d pat you on the head head, like he was trying to reassure you. It was true, he did like you. You had always been his favourite to watch, and he was glad that you weren’t running away now.

Otis Driftwood

You had been caught by the family, thrown into a room, and left to wait.

It was a while before the door opened and Otis walked in, already confused by your reaction.

You let him approach without screaming or even backing up. You just looked up at him meekly and he could already see it in your eyes. You had accepted what was happening to you. He oddly respected that.

"...are you going to hurt me?" you asked. Surprisingly enough, he had never been asked that. Everyone just assumed that he would, and they assumed right.

“Oh I’m going to do more than hurt ya” Otis told you, almost sounding amused.

You just nodded, a single tear rolling down your cheek, before hanging your head. Just accepting that there was no way out of this.

Okay, why the fuck did he feel bad?! He never felt bad!

Everyone screamed and sobbed. They fought and tried to run. They pleaded or insulted him. It’s what all the victims did! So why weren’t you?! It was actually a little frustrating to him.

Maybe you would be different...interesting...fun...even if it was just to break you. Now Otis was invested.

He’d take hold of your arm, pulling you towards him. “C’mon, time for ya to meet the family” he’d drag you through the house, you trying to keep up with him without tripping.

For now, he’s not going to directly physically harm you...he had something else planned for you.

Play your cards right and he might just start to warm up to you.

Baby Firefly

You had been caught by the family, thrown into a room, and left to wait.

It was a while before the door opened and Baby came skipping in, excited to get her hands on her new plaything. 

But you didn’t react the way she expected you too. Victims usually reacted better to her than Otis until she got started, then they realised that she wouldn’t take it easy on them, but she never got this reaction.

You didn’t cower away, beg for help, or even cry...which was kind of boring.

She walked right up to you, huffing slightly at your lack of reaction.

“...are you going to hurt me?” your question made her smile again. So you did know why you were here!

“Oh you bet I am!” she grins, her excitement returning.

But you just nodded, accepting your fate, and hanging your head. Just waiting for her to do whatever it was she wanted to do.

Baby huffed in annoyance again but was curious about your reaction.

“Now, don’t you cry” she wiped away the stray tear that rolled down your cheek, “you’re an interesting one, we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

Maybe you would be more fun without having to hurt you. Well, there’s no harm in giving it a chance!

Yautja (Predator)

You’re collision had been purely accidental, he hadn’t been hunting you and you hadn’t gone looking for him.

But once you were greeted with the large intimidating creature, you froze.

You looked at him, taller than any human you had met, obviously much stronger too, and was that blood???

“...are you going to hurt me?” you genuinely didn’t know what he planned on doing with you now that you had seen him. He was dangerous, that was obvious, but did he have evil intent?

He’d tilt his head at you curiously. What an interesting human...

But he’d shake his head ‘no’. He’s not going to hurt you. In the politest way possible, you simply aren’t a worthy hunt.

You were braver than you probably gave yourself credit for, he already knew that. You were looking right up at him, despite it being meekly. You had asked him a question, even if it was with fear for your own life.

But most interestingly to the Yautja was that you had seemingly accepted your fate if he was here to harm you. A part of him respected that, dying with dignity unlikely many humans, another part of him though you should fight for your well being some more.

Oh sweet little human...he’s going to have to work on your survival instincts.

[biceraswitch]

What Brats Deserve

Pairing: daddy!Steve x brat!reader

Summary: Steve knows just how to punish you when you are acting like a brat.

Warnings: smut, spanking, crying, dom/sub, daddy kink, fingering, oral (female receiving)

Words: 2k

A/N: Honestly just been craving a good spanking lately and this is what happened...

~~~~~~~~~~~

He had been at work all day, busy planning everything for next week's mission and you had been stuck at home missing him. He had promised he would have extra days off this week to make up for the time he was going to be away. However, nothing had run to schedule and now he was needing to go in to work everyday, much to your annoyance. Although you understood why he needed to go to work you weren’t happy about it.

Today had been particularly bad, you had woken up to him already gone. At midday Steve had rang to check on you and let you know he would probably be late home. You didn’t take the news well and you *may* have sworn at him a few times, feeling angry that you had barely seen him all week. You hung up on him in the middle of him apologising and had refused to answer any of his calls or texts for the rest of the day. So now you found yourself standing in your room, dressed only in a pair of your panties and a t-shirt, with a very grumpy Steve sat on the bed across from you.

“We’ve talked about this before babygirl. You can’t just ignore me when you are annoyed or angry, you have to talk to me”

You glared at Steve and refused to talk. He was the one in the wrong here - he was the one who promised to be at home and then went to work.

“If you keep ignoring me then I’ll have to punish you. You know the rules princess”

“No that’s stupid Daddy” you whined before a pout settled on your face.

His eyebrows raised and he tilted his head “Oh so that’s how you want to play it tonight huh? Gonna be a fucking brat?”

“No"

“Get your ass over here right now” he growled patting his knee. You shook your head.

“No”

“The longer you make me wait babygirl the longer your ass will be hurting”

Stubbornly refusing to budge you stared him down, narrowing your eyes.

“No”

He stared back with as much determination as you. Neither side wanted to forfeit, you were at a stalemate.

“If you're not over my knee by the time I count to three that pussy is gonna be getting spanked instead. One…., Two….”

You had been so determined to win tonight but the thought of Steve treating your pussy to one of his spankings was too much. Your legs almost gave out as you crossed the short distance to Steve.

“Thr-”

You cut Steve off as you hurriedly bent over his lap, toes barely touching the floor as you reached your body over Steve's legs.

“That was close, babygirl. Thought I was finally going to get the chance to properly punish that sweet little cunt of yours.” He reached between your legs to cup your pussy. His fingers skillfully found your clit, rubbing small circles that sent waves of pleasure through your core.

You mewled softly “please daddy”.

“Does that feel good huh?”

“Yes daddy, so good” you wiggled your hips, attempting to grind down harder on his hand.

He chuckled softly before pulling your panties down your legs.Sinking two fingers into your core he began slowly massaging your inner walls. You felt yourself growing warm, the burn of your arousal growing greater by the second as Steves fingers worked into your heat.

“So fucking wet,... too bad that you’ve been a brat”

Suddenly you were being lifted further over his lap by the fingers still buried deep in your pussy. Your arms flew out, trying to catch yourself as your ass was lifted higher and your torso slid further off his lap. Steve shifted you so you rested on one thigh, his other leg coming in to lock over yours, trapping you tightly between his muscular thighs. You reached down, pushing off the floor as you tried to lift yourself back up but it was useless. The angle you were at made it impossible to lift your body up and with your legs trapped tightly you could barely move your lower half at all.

“Steeeve, stop!” you squealed as you fought to bring your body back up.

“Uh uh, I don’t wanna hear anything from you unless it’s ‘yes Daddy’ or ‘thank you Daddy’. Do you understand?”

You merely whined in response, still struggling in a futile attempt to escape his grasp.

A hand grasped your hair, pulling your head sharply back “I asked you a question babygirl and I expect an answer. Do you understand?” He punctuated his question by removing his fingers from your pussy and bringing them down sharply over your wet lips.

“Ahh! Yes Daddy!” You cried out at the pain of his quick slap.

“Good girl. Now, let’s see how red I can make your ass”

He let go of your hair and moved his hand to rest on the small of your back, bracing you for the coming blows. You tensed up, waiting for the inevitable and jumped slightly when you felt his other hand start tracing small circles over your ass. Just as you relaxed into the touch he lifted his hand and brought it down harshly. A yelp escaped your lips at the sting and you barely had time to recover before another came.If you thought Steve might have taken it easy on you ,you were sorely mistaken and you realised just how screwed you were. Spank after spank rained down on your ass. Regretting how bratty you had been you tried to apologise.

“I’m sorry Daddy - Ah! - I didn’t mean - Ow! - to be a brat. I’m sorry - ah! - I promise I’ll never -”

An arm reached down and quickly lifted you up so you were sitting on one muscular thigh.

Surprised you just stared at Steve for a few seconds.

“Thank you Daddy” you managed to gasp out.

“Aww, my dumb little baby. You think Daddy would just stop because you said sorry?”

“But... but...”

“Open your mouth”

Brain whirring in confusion you didn’t react.

“Fuck you really are my dumb baby right now. Open. Your. Mouth.” He gripped your face in his hand, fingers digging in your cheeks forcing you to open up. His other hand quickly stuffed your mouth with the panties he had taken off you earlier.

“I don’t want to hear another word babygirl. I’ll decide when you’re sorry”

Head still spinning, you didn’t fight it as Steve flipped you back down over his knee.

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

Laying limp against Steve's leg, your ass was on fire and you were sure you would be feeling it for days. One last spank landed and you let out a small whimper around the sodden panties still held tightly in your mouth. Steve started rubbing gentle circles over the glowing skin.

“Took your spanking so well babygirl. So proud of you. I’m gonna lift you up now ok?”

You let out a soft “Mhmm” before letting Steve maneuver you so your burning ass sat between his thighs, curled close to his chest. Pulling the ruined panties from your mouth he leant in to kiss the last of your tears off your glistening cheeks.

“You feeling ok pretty girl?”

“Yes Daddy” you nodded your head “‘m sorry, so sorry”

“Shh I know baby, your punishment is over now. Daddy isn’t mad at you.I’m sorry that I’ve been so busy at work lately.”

“I know, I just miss you so much sometimes”

“I promise I’ll make it up to you when I’m back. I’ll take a couple of weeks off and we can go somewhere hm?”

“That sounds great Daddy”

Steve held you close, showering your face with soft kisses for a few minutes. Whilst you loved the attention you were getting, the throbbing in your core had your squirming in his lap. The burning in your ass had faded to a warm glow and now your focus was firmly on the wetness between your legs.

“What’s the matter babygirl? Did I go too hard?” his concern was written over his features as his eyes searched yours.

“No Daddy I’m fine. It’s just…”

“Just what princess?”

“Um… I’m all...all tingly Daddy” you whispered

You saw realisation sweep across his face. “Do you want some help from Daddy?” he asked huskily, face dropping close to yours.

“Yes please Daddy.”

“Such good manners baby.”

Your legs fell apart as he reached his hand down. Teasing fingers brushed through your soft patch of hair before sliding along your dripping slit. “Oh you really need some help don’t you babygirl?”

You stared up with pleading eyes “please.”

His fingers quickly zeroed in on your clit, rubbing slow circles around the sensitive bud. His mouth found your neck, alternating between kissing and sucking harshly along your skin. You ground your hips into his hand and bared your neck, seeking more of everything. All too quickly he withdrew his hand. You started to whine but were stopped as he shifted your body, cradling you in his arms as he stood. He moved around the bed, placing you gently on the soft surface, head resting back on the pillows. You winced a little as your tender skin touched the fabric.

“Don’t worry babygirl, I’ll make you forget all about that soon'' he said as he helped you take your shirt off before spreading your legs and positioning himself between them. Kissing you softly he cupped your face with one hand.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too Daddy.”

He kissed you deeply as his hand trailed down, pinching your hardened nipples gently. Pulling away he wrapped his lips around one nipple whilst his hand kept teasing the other. He alternated between your breasts, lavishing your nipples with his tongue, occasionally grazing his teeth over them. You were breathily heavily, face flushed as he continued his assault on you. Steve’s knee was pushed up into your core and you ground down on him desperately, trying to find enough friction. Soft whines bubbled up from you, feeling overwhelmed but needing more at the same time.

Your fingers wove into his hair as you tried to pull him further down your body. You felt him smile against your skin.

“What are you wanting babygirl?”

“Want your mouth on me”

“But you already do princess” He feigned ignorance grinning up at you.

“No not there Daddy”

“Hmmm where do you want my mouth then?” he asked, voice muffled as his face buried back between your breasts.

“My pussy Daddy. Please Daddy, I need you to eat my pussy. I want you to make me cum.”

“I love when you beg babygirl. So desperate for Daddy to eat your sweet little pussy”

You didn’t let go of his hair as he dipped down lower, shifting so his mouth hovered directly over your center. You felt his warm breath wash over you, the anticipation building before he licked a broad stripe up the length of your slit. You gasped and pulled harshly on his hair earning yourself a moan in return. “Please..more” you begged, moving your hips to try and find some friction. Steve’s expert tongue found your clit, circling the sensitive bud of nerves, bringing you waves of pleasure. Warmth rushed over your body and you felt like you were floating. It took only minutes before the coil in your belly felt like it was about to snap.

“Daddy, daddy ‘m close, please”

“Good girl, come as much as you want tonight babygirl, I’ve got you” Steve answered before diving back into your folds, quickly bringing you right back to your precipice. Sensing that you needed just a little more he brought a hand up and sunk two fingers deep inside of you, curling them rhymically before sealing his lips over your clit and sucking. Ecstasy exploded through your body as every muscle tensed and you rode out the heights of pleasure. Coming down from your high you saw Steve grinning up at you.

“Ready for another babygirl?”

[rowanthestrange]

What if we are in a universe where the Timeless Child was saved? Right now. We are in Timeline-B, not A, we’ve already swapped.

Cryptocurrency Brax is a Timeline-B ‘Not-Time-Lord’.

Bel and Vinder are Timeline-B Not-Gallifreyans from Not-Gallifrey: Long-lived, psychic, implied complexity in getting pregnant, and a lovely Academy to be trained in.

Not-Gallifrey is the centre of importance cus Tecteun never took the Timeless Child back to her home planet of Gallifrey - it still developed with her help, but without regeneration.

The Division still rules in both timelines but it’s using both Gallifrey and Not-Gallifrey, with Cryptocurrency Brax and other Not-Time-Lords. As we can assume via Vinder’s flashbacks and Bel’s coat etc.

TARDISes are a myth to Vinder because they’re not Not-Gallifrey tech, they’re still Gallifreyan tech created by Tecteun which is why Swarm and Azure are so angry with her etc. (The Division highest levels presumably still have access to them). Neo-Time Lords still a thing, but without regeneration they’re probably more vulnerable to invasion trying to get that technology, hinders the empire building.

This is why we’ve seen two Gallifreys. The one that we saw the Master nuke all life from, and a Gallifrey full of grass and Cybermen. They’re not incompatible at all because the Gallifrey the Master burned no longer existed in the first place, and the other Gallifrey has Neo-citizens aplenty to convert. Probably explains why we needed the purple portal though.

We know one of the Doctor’s splits was pulled to Tigmi, so Tigmi is her. But that means that Tigmi is from Timeline-B and is/was/will be used to create Timeline-A. But to start Timeline-A means Timeline-B does not exist unless you break Timeline-A. The Timeless Child as the ultimate paradox. They exist because they cannot exist. A manifest loop completely untethered from time.

Gat seemed really high ranking, was recognised as Gallifreyan when scanned by Thirteen, and answers to Gallifrey, with a TARDIS (where we were with Jack), she was the one sent to get the Doctor. Why wouldn’t she regenerate when shot? Cus she can’t.

Maybe Martin!Doctor is who you get if you save Tigmi, save the Timeless Child. Different origin story, slightly different universe structure, but still the same result. We met her parents, ‘the Doctor’ is an inevitability either way. But perhaps they lived very differently to the idyllic life with Tigmi we’d want because they knew, were told what was going on with her, knew the risks of what people would do if they found out who and what she was, and would have to be exiles forever. Ruth talks about her not-good-with-people parents who lived in the lighthouse. Not ‘parent’ like Tecteun, but ‘parents’ plural. Ruth says “Forgotten what it feels like to come back here. Like nothing can touch me.”

(Aside: Ruth believed she moved to Gloucester in mid-December - that more or less lines up with the Final Flux event and is probably important, especially knowing how much Chibnall cared about dates and also knowing that he had to cut two episodes from Flux.)

The presence of old faces doesn’t help us identify anything: Jack is a fixed point, he’s stuck whatever, and for all we know old adventures would still more or less line up. Kate knew the Doctor but doesn’t seem surprised or comment on her being a woman - maybe because that’s not new to her, perhaps M!Doc’s in a line of predominantly female Doctors instead of male, whatever. Could be because the Earth was protected that nothing could alter on it at all anyway. (And Tecteun escaped Timeline-A before it ruptured, safe on her way out the universe, and let’s hope Tecteun-B’s dead in a ditch somewhere)

(Fringe idea: Our Master still exists in the universe like our Doctor does, and is the one who sends Ruth the mysterious text from an unknown sender that lets her free herself - “Follow the light. Break the glass. Happy birthday. X.” - ‘happy birthday’ ala Missy and because of the nature of the story, call back to Clara, texting the Doctor, and a kiss - a bit French. And we have a prophecy etc.)

By no means is this a full working theory. Less needs the edges sanding off and is more like a rough blueprint before we’ve started making anything, just analysing what we’re seeing. I don’t know how it would all work in context - it’s obvious there’s a Save Tigmi split point that could make a paradox loop in Timeline-A but there are still other paradoxical elements. Could mean the theory’s completely wrong, could be I’m missing some key parts, could be we don’t have the tools to crack it and this is as far as we can go without details.

But it’d explain how the Doctor’s memories are a house that doesn’t make sense, cus they can’t, they’re different and incompatible timelines crashed together.

[awhitehead17]

Batfam Alphabet: I - Injuries

Summary: When an offhand comment gets made about who receives the most injuries a big debate takes place to discuss this. Unable to agree on anything, the Bats decide to keep score of who gets the most injuries over the next 12 months. The results may surprise you. 

Enjoy! :D

The blissful silence within his apartment is rudely interrupted by the shrill of his phone suddenly ringing inside his pocket. Jason groans. Five minutes. Why couldn’t he just get five minutes of peace? Was that so much to ask for?

Cursing every god imaginable, Jason digs through his pocket until he finds and receives the device before scowling upon seeing the caller ID. Answering the call, he brings it up to his ear and doesn’t hesitate to snap a greeting, making it clear he isn’t pleased about being disturbed. “What do you want?”

“So there’s been a situation…” a hesitant voice speaks up on the other side of the phone.

Jason reaches up and pinches the bridge of his nose. That sentence alone is enough to start giving him a headache.

“How the fuck is there a situation? I left you guys not even fifteen minutes ago! I thought you were heading back to the cave?”

“Yeah, we were, but on the way back we heard gun shots and we found a gang fight happening. We intervened but while fighting Nightwing unfortunately got stabbed.”

Being told his brother has been stabbed makes Jason pause. There’s a remark on the end of his tongue that desperately wants to slip out but he doesn’t know if this is the right time for it. The tone of voice on the other side of the line makes it difficult to determine how serious the situation is.

“How bad is it?”

“Oh not that bad!” Tim chirps, Jason could now hear the amusement lacing his tone. “It’s just a stab wound on the thigh, more of a scratch than anything. Won’t need stitches or nothing. I figured I’d ring you to let you know because this now changes the board.”

Jason breathes out a long sigh and feels the tension leave his body. At least it’s not life threatening. This fucking family, he swears to God, if he hadn’t already been sent to an early grave he certainly would be now.

“So it’s enough to warrant a mark on the board?” Jason questions eagerly, already knowing what impact the answer will have. Now he knows it’s not serious he can think about other things.

“Oh yeah definitely.” Tim claims and Jason could easily hear the smile in his voice. “Even when it happened he muttered a curse and mentioned how it’s unfair because that now puts you ahead of him.”

At that Jason cackles. He bids his brother a goodbye before hanging up. Still laughing Jason moves through his apartment to his kitchen, digging through one of the draws he pulls out a large whiteboard and makes the needed changes to it.

This is something they all came up with at the start of the year from an offhand comment about who gets the most/least injuries out of their family. The comment triggered off a big debate and the result of it was to keep score of who gets the most injuries in the next 12 months.

They do not count life threatening injuries, because believe it or not they are not assholes and it wouldn’t be fair or even funny. Any minor injury can count (or at least minor for them). Any injuries done outside of the costume also count.

There are only a couple months left of the year but it’s currently pretty tight between most of them. Surprisingly Steph is winning with the least number of injuries so far. Following her, again surprisingly, is Damian. After him is Harper, Duke, Tim and then Jason. With his new injury today that puts Dick in last place, officially making Jason second to last. They hadn’t included Cass because firstly she didn’t want to be involved and secondly anytime she does get injured, which is extremely rare, it’s usually serious, so they collectively decided to not have Cass participate. Babs wasn’t interested and made it very clear on what her opinions of the competition was.

Before the new injury, Jason and Dick were in joint last place. His older brother now sustaining a new non-life-threatening injury changes the board. Jason couldn’t be happier, now he just has to make sure to not get injured at all in the next couple of months.

That in itself will be a challenge, but one not to be beaten easily Jason is up for it. He doesn’t care where he comes on the board, just as long as he beats Dick that’s all that matters.

---------

Like most of the year, the last few months fly by and before Jason knows it, it’s New Year’s Eve and he’s attending a party with all of his friends and family.

While the party is being hosted at Wayne Manor, so somewhere familiar, there’s tension in the air which can be felt no matter where you go. To most it’s probably the anticipation of midnight approaching, that excitement that comes along with the clock striking twelve and the supposedly start of something new.

To Jason, however, it’s a count down until the results are revealed.

Jason has a vague idea of what the final results are going to be, after all he kept track of everything himself. Then again, it’s vague because he’s been away on a mission for the last three weeks only having gotten back two days ago. He hasn’t yet had a chance to catch up with everything that may have happened in those weeks he had been gone. For all he knows the board may have changed significantly and he wouldn’t have a clue.

Not long before midnight, Jason soon finds himself in the library with his siblings and friends. They’re scattered around the room sitting on the sofas and the floor with the news on in the background.

Cass stands front and center with a white board in hand ready to announce the results of who has sustained the least and the greatest number of injuries in the past year. They asked Cass to announce it as she hadn’t taken part, that way it’s fair and not biased.

Looking around the room Jason could see a variety of facial expression on his siblings faces. Some wearing smirks, like they know exactly what the results are, while other’s wear an expression of anticipation, clearly unsure on where they’ve come on the board.

Cass announces the names in ascending order, starting with last place first. To Jason’s absolute delight, Dick is in last place. He’s so happy to hear that he had beaten his brother in getting less injuries than him in a year. Dick simply sends Cass a tight smile and nod, obviously knowing he had lost before anything was declared.

After Dick is Jason. If he’s being honest, Jason is actually happier about that than the principle of being second to last, he beat Dick and that’s all that mattered. He certainly made sure Dick was aware of his delight.

After Jason is Duke, followed by Steph which was a surprise considering she had been in first for a really long time. Apparently she had a bad couple of months, reckless behaviour and stupid mistakes eventually added to her total therefore dropping her down the leader board.

Taking third place is Damian. Jason looks over at where he’s sat and he finds the kid fuming, clearly unhappy with his final position. In second place is Tim, which seems to surprise almost everyone, including Tim himself. The teenager sits on the sofa looking completely baffled but thrilled at the news. That finally leaves Harper taking first place as the person to have the least number of injuries in the past year. She jumps up to her feet yelling with joy and dancing around the room excitedly.

After the scores are announced Cass gives out little awards just as something extra which makes it all the more entertaining.

The most out-of-costume injuries award goes to Tim, who instantly claims that most of his injuries are because his best friends are meta’s and because he skateboards. No one believes the excuses however they don’t call him out on it.

The most ridiculous injury goes to Dick, who then explains how he got said injury. Apparently he miscalculated a jump when chasing someone and ended up scraping his side on a metal bin. Everyone stares at him after that story, wondering how such an experienced vigilante and acrobat even does that.

The most badass injury goes to Steph. She had gotten into a fist fight in the middle of the mall after some guys started shouting out vulgar language. Not taking any of their shit Steph beat them all to a pulp but not without taking some collateral damage herself. That award felt well deserved though it could have gone to someone else.

After wrapping up their competition they all decide to stay in the library and chill. They cheer for the new year when the clock strikes twelve and all exchange “happy new year’s.” They don’t go adventuring out to the party again which inevitably leads to Bruce hunting for them, out of worry or suspicion Jason’s not sure but when his adoptive father eventually walks into the library he’s met with a loud chorus of greetings

Bruce studies the group with narrowed eyes in suspicion. He meets each of their gazes before straightening up and leveling them all a glare.

“What’s going on? I haven’t seen any of you in a few hours only to find you all gathered in here, not fighting may I add. What have you done?”

Dick’s the first to respond. Being the oldest of the group he probably feels inclined to, especially when no one else offers up an explanation. “Wow Bruce, give us a benefit of the doubt would you, we’re simply enjoying being with one another for a change. New year and all that. Who knows, this may the start of something new.”

Bruce’s disbelieving expression conveys perfectly what he thinks of that explanation.

The room falls silent as they all stare at one another. Gestures and nods are shared between them as they try to get someone else to speak up but everyone stays silent, no one saying a peep. They never told Bruce about the competition; they really don’t know how the man would take the news but they’re all certain it wouldn’t be taken well. He definitely wouldn’t see the funny side of the whole thing, even if they explain the rules to it and how they’re not actually assholes and wouldn’t include life threatening wounds to the count.

In the end it doesn’t matter because eventually Bruce puts his hands up and shakes his head. “You know what, I don’t want to know. Whatever it is just keep it to yourselves and if you make a mess, clean it up. The less I know the better.”

With no more words Bruce turns around and leaves the room. For several moments after the man’s sudden departure they each exchange baffled looks, silently questioning what just happened. It stays like that for a while until several members of the family simultaneously shrug. The action causes an eruption of laughter and all of them end up cackling until they couldn’t breathe and had tears running down their faces.

[heliads]

Radio Silence Chapter One: On the Other End

Poe Dameron has been assigned to work as an intel receiver to Acer, a Resistance recon agent. They’ve only ever talked through the comms, so when she’s captured by First Order troops he assumes she’s lost forever. When Poe accidentally rescues the absolutely infuriating Resistance spy Y/N L/N from a First Order Star Destroyer, he knows she’s got nothing do with with Acer. Right?

series masterlist / next

Poe Dameron slides into a seat in front of a gleaming array of navicomputers and tech displays. He considers the many buttons and levers in front of him, then methodically enters a series of commands into a console. He waits one second, two, then it beeps at him. Correct password- well, he’d hope so. He’s done this so many times that he could enter in the digits in his sleep.

After that, it only takes a couple of seconds to call up the secure communications channel. There have only ever been two people with access to this channel: one sender and one receiver. Poe is the receiver, as always, recovering data sent to him by the Resistance recon agent they’ve got stationed out somewhere in the Outer Rim or the Unknown Regions. He doesn’t know anything about her, that’s stated in the Resistance regulations- no sharing information that could get your spies killed. That’s a must.

At exactly twenty standard hours, it is time for Poe to flip on the radio channel and receive the latest intel from his sender. He waits for a minute or two in silence, brow furrowing as he spends more time in solitude, and then his ears are greeted by the reassuringly familiar crackle of static across the console speakers. Poe grins. “Acer, that you?” He can practically hear her smile across the radio channel. “Who else would it be?”

Poe leans back in his chair, finally able to relax. “You were three minutes late, you know. That’s against protocol.” Acer sighs dramatically. “Oh come on, Bravo. You going to report me to the General for overwhelming tardiness in the line of duty?” Poe rolls his eyes. “I might, now that you mention it.” Acer laughs. “I’m sure you will. Honestly, I just think this means you care about me. Were you worried for me?” 

Poe taps a few buttons on his console, adjusting the sound for perfect quality. “I’m not going to answer that. You got anything good for me?” He can hear the sound of Acer’s navicomputer as she loads in the data filed for transmission. “I don’t know, Bravo. I’m not sure it’s anything major.” A sudden whir from the console catches Poe’s attention, and he waits as the data files finish sending. There’s a final ding of completion and Poe grabs the readouts from a dataport.

He whistles as he takes in the preview on his console. “You got troop lists? How’d you manage that?” Poe can’t see her face, but he’s fairly sure Acer’s smirking. “I figured that if I was going to peek through the transparisteel to see the bucketheads shine their shoes, I might as well tally them down as well.” Poe shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s amazing. I don’t know how you manage it.”

Acer speaks through a slight flash of static. “Well, I’m not going to act like it was easy. My hands are still shaking.” Poe clicks his tongue. “Hey, that’s personal information. I’m not supposed to know about that.” Acer’s worried tone breaks up into laughter. “What, that I have hands? Did you think I was a droid?” Poe grins, pleased with himself for making her smile. “I wasn’t about to assume anything. You could be a very human-sounding droid.” Acer groans. “If you thought I was a droid throughout all of this, then I think I understand why the General doesn’t have you as a spy.”

Poe’s mouth drops open. “Are you insulting me, Acer? After all we’ve been through?” Her laugh sounds musical, even through the crackles of a radio line. “I don’t know. It might not be in my programming.” They chat for a while longer before Acer’s voice drops off. “It’s time already. The minutes fly by, don’t they? Well, that’s all the data I’ve got for today.” Poe smiles ruefully. “Well, there ain’t nobody like you. Bravo, over and out.” Acer calls out the same goodbye code before her end of the line goes dark. Poe waits a few minutes, as according to radio procedure, then shuts off the encrypted line.

It’s strange to think that at the end of the day, Poe doesn’t know anything more about Acer than he would a First Order lieutenant. Can you consider someone a friend if you’ve never seen them before? Whenever Poe’s sent on a mission to some planet under First Order command, he can’t help scanning the crowds of people as if he thinks he’ll see her somewhere. It makes no sense- he has no idea what Acer looks like, and she only knows him as Bravo, the voice across the air. Yet he still looks around as if hoping she’ll show up, like he’ll see someone and just intuitively know that they are the spy he’s been speaking to for so long.

Poe can still remember when he was first given the assignment. At first, he had chafed at the idea of being confined to a desk when he could be out in his X-Wing, taking down TIE fighters and rescuing Resistance officers like always. He’d plunked himself down at his assigned station, an empty room in a distant corner of the base. Poe had turned on the encrypted channel, readying himself for a boring half hour of talking to some dry business-as-usual intel agent. Yet instead of being forced to share comms with a watery old recon officer, he’d been greeted by Acer. Wild, laughing, ruthlessly clever Acer. He’d want no one else.

They’d become friends soon after that, it was practically inevitable. Poe doesn’t know much about the other spies the Resistance sent out, but he does know that Acer is one of the best there is. Poe feels some extension of pride whenever he gets to deliver the newly recovered data files to the General, like he had just as much of a role in their transmission as Acer. To be fair, he has talked her through a couple of bad scenarios, like when a First Order intercomms agent demanded to see her radio or when a shady Knights of Ren sympathizer nearly found her out. No matter how bad it got, they’d always found some way to make it through. They were a team, weren’t they? Acer and Bravo, the two ends of the comms.

Poe finds that he’s actually come to rely on his daily check-ins with Acer like he would a chat with a friend. He has no idea how it feels to be in her position, stuck in the middle of First Order space with nothing but a fragile lie to protect you. Sometimes, he can hear it in her voice- the fear, the knowledge that at any moment she could be found out and shipped off to a distant cell where she would rot for the rest of her days. Spies are risky operators, and oftentimes the Resistance can’t afford to bring them back, not if it would compromise the rest of their intel rings.

Poe remembers the instance when he was captured by the First Order and tortured on board their ship. He had known even then that the likelihood of him being brought back to the Resistance was low, almost negligible, yet he’d been fortunate enough to have been rescued by Finn. Renegade stormtroopers with hearts of gold, however, were hard to come by, and so Acer wouldn’t even be able to rely on that. It twists Poe’s stomach to think of her on her bad days, when she’s surrounded by the fear that she would disappear on those backwater city planets and never be found again. He’d look for her, he promises himself, but even Poe knows that one radio operator wouldn’t be enough to find Acer if she went missing. All he can do is hope that it won’t come to that.

A couple of weeks later, Poe is on the line with Acer again when he first hears something in the background. It’s a quiet noise, barely there, yet something about it feels strange. He speaks up. “Hey, Ace, you got a roommate there? I thought I heard something behind you.” There’s quiet for a moment, and then when Acer speaks again her voice is strained with panic. “I live alone. There should be nobody here with me.” Both of them stay silent for a moment as they realize the implications of this. If Acer should be alone, but somebody is there, then that means-

The explosions go off about half a second later. Distantly, Poe can hear the draw of a blaster from a holster and repeated fire. Acer bends close to the radio, speaking quietly so the attackers won’t hear. “There are First Order troops in my quarters. I repeat, there are First Order troops here. This is Acer, I am requesting sendoff. Bravo, do you copy?” Poe’s blood feels like ice in his veins. The sendoff code is one that he had hoped to never hear. It means that Acer is outnumbered, that she’s about to be captured. It means that the Resistance has to make a choice whether to save her or to damn her to end the rest of her life in First Order cells.

This is Poe’s greatest fear. When he speaks again, he has to force his voice to stay calm and never waver. If he sounds nervous, then it will only enhance her own fear. “This is Bravo, affirmative. I verify your sendoff.” He can hear a quiet sound, like a half-sob almost hidden in the din of the blaster fire. Poe feels sick to his stomach. He can’t do this, can’t abandon Acer like this. He knows in this moment that if he doesn’t do something he will never forgive himself, but what is there to do? It’s not like he can help fight the stormtroopers. He feels their separation like a knife. She is cut off from him in all ways but the radio, but what good can a comms channel do in a firefight?

Desperate, Poe clicks on his mic once more. “Acer, can you read me? Can you send your location?” This is his last hope- if she can send even a couple of coordinates they might be able to track her down, might be able to save her from the cells. Acer’s voice comes back over the air, and Poe feels his heart drop at her words. “That’s a negative, Bravo. I can’t risk any more transmissions.” Her voice breaks off, but it doesn’t sound like a tech difficulty. When she speaks once more, her voice is leaden, and it chills Poe to the bone.

“I’m not making it out, Bravo. It’s been good to know you. See you in the fall.” Poe’s jaw tightens when he hears the last phrase. ‘See you in the fall’ is a joke they have between them, that someday there will be a day when he and Acer will be able to leave their stations and find each other at the end of all of this- at the fall of the First Order, of the war and resistance effort itself, when everything is finally over. If she’s saying this, then she knows- Acer isn’t making it back.

Poe’s voice is seconds away from breaking. “I’ll see you in the fall, Acer. I promise.” He can hear her slight smile over the line, and it nearly kills him. Even now, she’s forcing herself to stay strong. “You have to end the channel, Bravo. Otherwise they’ll find you.” Poe shakes his head before forgetting that she can’t see him. “Don’t make me leave. I know I’m not here, but I can’t-” Poe forces himself to remain calm. He has to do this, it is his last job. He owes her this, at least. He owes it to her that the mission not fail completely.

Poe takes a moment to steady himself before continuing. “Affirmative, Acer. This is Bravo, over and out.” Poe drags his hand over to the buttons lining his console and robotically types in the command to permanently end the channel before the First Order can find them through it. Just before he severs the line, he hears her voice one last time. “I read you, Bravo. Acer, over and out.” Then there’s one last flurry of static, and everything goes quiet.

Poe sits for a second in the silence. His ears are ringing with the last remnants of the blasterfire. He stares at his hands, still hovering over the controls. Just like that, his friend is gone. Acer has been captured, and she knows that there’s no hope of her return. Poe has been fighting in the Resistance for a long time now, and he’s seen many friends and allies fall. This loss, however, is the hardest he has felt in a long time.

Poe’s footsteps echo through the halls until he comes to a stop in front of General Organa. She turns to him, expecting a proffered data file, but her smile fades when she sees the haunted look on his face. Poe’s voice registers dully in the room. “Recon Operator Acer has been cleared for sendoff.” And just like that, Poe has lost one of the best things in the fight.

[its-deputy-caleb]

Micah Bell - Partners in Crime and in Love Pt.1

YES i know there’s 58 requests sitting in my inbox for re8 HOWEVER red dead is my comfort game and i needed to write this verbal mess down. I’ve been thinking of writing a micah fic for weeks now and i finally did it bc as much as i love re8 red dead is my fav and always will be. this is so self indulgent i swear.

for anyone that actually reads this the reader is pretty gn but does lean towards fem this time and i’ll be doing a part 2 for sure bc i love the rat man.

part 2 is now here

—————————————————————

Today was finally the day. The day for the big bank job that Dutch insisted was the right move for the gang. This was despite numerous doubts from Hosea and various other camp members that robbing a bank in broad daylight in the state’s largest city was a risk the gang couldn’t afford to make right now.

The whole morning there had been a sour feeling in your gut, a tiny voice shouting in the back of your mind that something wasn’t right. It wasn’t like you to get nervous on a job, in fact you recently robbed the Valentine bank with Bill on his job. Originally you weren’t interested in going, happy to let Karen go on her own with the guys but Bill insisted you go as you were one of the best gunslingers the gang had.

Robbing and killing came naturally to you and being outlawed in six states had never bothered you during your time as an outlaw. That’s why it was almost impossible for you to ignore the sick feeling in your stomach that was slowly building.

Making your way over to Micah, you see him sitting on a wooden crate cleaning his guns for the inevitable shootout that comes with bank jobs. Taking a seat next to him, Micah doesn’t need to ask you how you are; he can practically see how restless and agitated you look.

That’s the thing about your relationship with Micah, you understood each other (especially in public) and didn’t need grand public displays of affection to know exactly what the other needed in that moment.

The camp mostly stayed clear of your relationship, I mean you were probably two of the camp’s biggest troublemakers and risk takers when it came to planning jobs and robbing folk. Both of you had a shot quicker than lightening and could practically shoot your way out of any situation you found yourselves in. But regardless of how ruthless anyone thought you two were, you always had each other’s backs and wouldn’t stop to think about saving the other.

One night after a successful train job Dutch decided to hold a camp celebration. It was a mostly quiet night for you, having not decided to party with your companions despite Sean, Charles and Javier all offering for you to join in. Instead you decided to spend the mostly quiet night with Micah sharing a bottle of whiskey and splitting your share of the earnings. After each job you always had a bet with Micah over who could shoot the highest number of lawman. It was a bet the two of you had with each other just to cause more mischief and it always brought a smile to your face when Micah would lose and sulk about it for the rest of the afternoon

At one point during the night Bill strolled over to you while Micah went to get another bottle of whiskey. He was nice and polite despite the smell of beer coming from his breath, maybe even a little flirtatious and all was well until he asked the question ‘Why is you with a rat like him when you could be with someone as charming as me?’. Bill ended up with a face full of dirt and a broken nose, not to mention a killer hangover.

So yeah, the gang tended to leave you and Micah alone…

Micah’s knee lightly brushing against your own brings your thoughts back to reality. He’s stopped cleaning his guns and is looking at you with soft eyes and a gentle smile, the one that’s only reserved for you.

Despite being a hardened outlaw that has known nothing but chaos and the open road for most of your life. The gang has observed from afar your softer sides, whether it be the time you both fell asleep next to each other by the campfire or getting shit scared when the other has been shot and the rest of the night is spent with soft kisses and bandage wrapping.

Micah holsters his revolver and gently takes your hand in his.

“Sweetheart we’re gonna be fine, ain’t nothing gonna go wrong, now common let’s go get dressed for such a special occasion.”

~

Everyone is just starting to get into their fancy attire for the job when you and Micah are already packing your saddles and getting ready. You’re wearing matching white suits with a red shirt only yours is tailored to show off your figure a lot more and your plunge top and corset doesn’t leave much to the imagination but hey, if you’re gonna go out it’s gonna be in style.

As Micah finishes tightening up Baylock’s saddle you lean forward and hold his wrist in your hand. Your thumb gently brushes the soft skin there, trying to hide the nerves that have been slowly eating away at you all day.

“I don’t like this Micah, somethings gonna go wrong I can feel it…”

Micah’s never been great with emotions but you’ve known him long enough to know how he comforts you. The arm that’s caught in your grasp turns and brings you forward into a hug, his chin resting on your head as you hold him tightly against you.

“Ain’t nothin gonna happen to us, just think of it as another bank job.”

You nod and hold him closer, a rare event for such a public place where anyone could walk by but neither of you really cared at that moment. You press your face into his shoulder, trying to shake off your uneasiness.

“You better not die on me now Bell, you still owe me that new holster for beating you in five finger fillet.”

~

Fuck did the bank job go wrong. Horribly wrong. From the moment you got off your horses and stepped foot in that bank it all turned to hell.

Bullets where flying everywhere, there were civilians screaming in terror trying not to get caught in the crossfire, glass was being shattered by dynamite and Dutch was trying to formulate a plan while in shock of losing his dear Hosea.

A bullet whizzed past your head and you took out another Pinkerton. It was chaos. Every time you managed to bring down the line of Pinkertons another carriage full of them would arrive with the Saint Denis Police.

You couldn’t see Micah anywhere, but each time you tried to look for him your attention was dragged back to the action in front of you and the numerous Pinkertons shooting at you.

Arthur had snuck onto the roof at some point and some of the other members where making their way towards the rooftop as well. You were about to make a bolt towards Dutch and Javier on the ladder when Charles stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Go that way, we’re the diversion! Karen and Sadie are a waiting near the alleyway of the tavern, we’ll meet you back at camp in a few hours, GO!”

Charles pushes you down the alley way and climbs up the ladder to catch up to the others. You would’ve protested but your body is running on adrenaline so you didn’t think as you snuck your way out of safety.

~

Micah was furious that Charles had sent you off on your own to find your way back, if it wasn’t for the fact that the five of them where hiding from the law in a rundown city apartment he probably would have argued with him for hours.

But deep down he knew it was the right thing to do. He knew that you’d be 100 times safer away from this chaos then if you were here with him, even if you could handle yourself.

For hours they sat in that little room, Dutch formulating a plan on how to get out of here while Micah tried not to worry about whether you made it home safe. Now he understood that sick feeling of worry in your stomach, he only ever got it when he worried about you.

By nightfall Dutch had somewhat of a plan to escape via the docks, sneak out onto a ship that would take them somewhere and it hit Micah in that moment that it would be some time before he saw you again…

The guards where everywhere, the entire city on high alert after the bank and Charles ended up running so everyone could make it onto a boat. As Dutch attempted to negotiate with the captain for a cabin, Micah lit a cigarette from his blazer pocket, trying to take his first deep breath of the night.

“We were fools for thinking we could pull off the bank…”

Arthur rests against the crates, fatigue clear in his eyes but willing himself to stay awake. Micah however didn’t want to sit and talk about what could have happened and what actually did, he had a headache already and certainly didn’t need a lecture from Arthur for another reckless decision he helped create.

“Whatever you say Morgan.”

Sighing defeatedly, Micah flicks his cigarette bud over the side and into the water below, making his way to go sit on the other side of the crates where he can think.

~

Back at camp you pace around the halls of Shady Belle, the floorboards creaking under the weight of your boots.

“Fuck this I’m going to find them-“

Before you make it out the front door however Miss Grimshaw blocks your exits.

“You’re not going anywhere anytime soon. The Pinkertons are everywhere looking for us. Now I know you want your precious Mr. Bell back but you’re just going to have to wait out the next few hours until he returns with the rest.”

You decide to ignore the slight condescending tone of Susan as you see a rider approaching into camp. Your hand is on your holster, everyone who’s left joining you to crowd around the man slowly coming closer. Everyone is relieved to see its Charles, but only slightly. He’s alone and a horrible feeling of fear washes over you.

“Charles… Where is everyone… Where’s Micah?”

[iamdeku]

Strictly Business: ProHero!Deku x Reader

Pro hero!Izuku meeting his new personal assistant who is nervous and had previous terrible experiences with Proheros who treated her like a tool. (Reader is female) 

This was a really fun request to do! I loved the idea for this and definitely got a little carried away with the word count, haha. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault. Bad bosses. I did not proofread.

You had been nervous when you had started working for the #1 hero. You had worked hard to get here, but it had been a long road, and it hadn’t always been fun. In fact, up until now it had been terrible. When you walked into Deku’s office, you were seriously thinking about undoing years of work and changing your career path entirely.

Your dream had been to work with heroes. Not be harassed by them.

You first job had also been your first mistake. You should have known better than to work with the Fresh-Picked hero, Grape Juice, but you were new to the industry and no one had warned you off. So you became a personal assistant to your sleaziest boss to date.

Mineta had done his best to ruin your life. He sexually harassed you at ever turn, abused his power, kept you after hours and made you do ridiculous things. When you finally gathered the courage to quit, you never looked back.

When you were looking for your next job, you decided it was better to go with an established hero, one who had been in the game a long time. Endeavor, as the former #1 hero, seemed like a solid, safe choice. You were so wrong.

You worked for Endeavor for years, unwilling to quit the paycheck, but the experience was awful. Endeavor was arrogant, with a terrible temper and a hefty helping of sexism. By the time you were in a financially stable enough place to quit that job, you had lost all faith in the heroes around you.

So now, starting your first day working for Deku, you were prepared for the worst. You were sure you were about to be introduced to some fresh torture, but you were ready for whatever he would level at you. Heroes could sink no lower in your eyes.

So naturally, you were surprised on your first day when he seemed…nice. Sweet even.

You knocked on his office door, a combination of dread and resignation swirling in your stomach. You expected a wait, but he answered it almost immediately.

“Hi! You’re my new personal assistant, right? It’s so nice to meet you. I’m sorry I wasn’t at your interview. I meant to be there but there was a crisis downtown I got called in for. I hope you got the gift basket I sent to your house to apologize. I really am so sorry, it’s terrible policy not to have met you before now.”

You had gotten that gift basket, actually, but you hadn’t thought he was aware of it. You definitely hadn’t thought it was his idea, but from the sounds of his speech it definitely had been. You blinked at him a couple of times, trying to gather your wits after that rapid speech.

“Yes,” you said. “I’m your new personal assistant. It’s very nice to meet you. What can I do for you today sir?”

He seemed confused, as though he hadn’t expected a personal assistant to be ready to work. That couldn’t be right though. He was an experienced pro.

“Didn’t they tell you when you got here? I thought we could start with lunch together, so I can get to know you since I missed your interview. I’m sorry, I should have sent you an email.”

Your heart sank at his words, all of your hopes for his kindness to be genuine crashing with it. So, it was to be the hopelessly flirtatious boss who thought you existed to fulfill his fantasies again. You had seen that before.

“I’m really not sure that would be wise, sir. I like to maintain a strict level of professionalism,” you said, making your refusal as polite as you could.

He blinked, as though it hadn’t even occurred to him that might not be professional.

“Oh. I suppose you have a point. Well, why don’t we eat here while we work then? I can ask you a few of the questions I didn’t get to for your interview while you settle in.”

You sighed internally. There was really no way you could politely turn that down, so you forced your face into a smile.

“That sounds like it could work well.”

You were pleasantly surprised when your lunch actually went well. Deku never made a move on you, other than his request for you to call him Izuku, which seemed to apply to all the employees. It could have just been a ploy to get you to let your guard down, but all the same, you wanted to believe he really was this kind.

You two worked together in his office the whole day, and you became familiar with his schedule. He never did anything to make you uncomfortable, and as the day wore on you decided cautious optimism was the way to go. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all.

 You smiled fondly at the memory, chopping carrots on the counter. Across the room from you, the man you had come to know well was pacing, mumbling frantically as he analyzed some old battle playing on his TV.

“Izuku, you’re going to throw off my cooking with all that racket, and then we’ll have nothing to eat.” You laughed lightly.

He nearly jumped 10 feet in the air. “Sorry, sorry! I guess I just got a little lost in thought. Although I guess I wasn’t the only one lost. I asked you about my schedule earlier and you didn’t seem to hear me at all.”

You blushed in shame. “Sorry.”

Izuku shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Happens to me all the time. Obviously. What were you thinking about?”

“I was just remembering my first day working for you and how terrified I was.”

It seemed silly to you now, but back then you never could have predicted you would be best friends with your boss, let alone cooking dinner for him while working unofficial overtime as a passion project. You never thought that working for Izuku would be what you always wanted.

“Why were you terrified? Just because I’m #1? You’d worked with famous heroes before. I’m no one special.”

Oh, how wrong he was.

“You are special. You were the first hero I’d worked with who didn’t make me miserable. Every boss I had before you either sexually harassed me, overworked me or was just plain unpleasant. Usually all of those. I had given up on heroes before I met you,” you confessed casually.

Izuku blanched at you.

“What?” The word was breathless, barely audible.

“Yeah. I thought you knew my work history. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but anyone with any experience working with heroes will tell you Endeavor is not a super cuddly guy.”

“I…had no idea.” You looked up and found, to your surprise, that Izuku’s eyes were swimming with tears. “I never knew you were treated like that. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay. I have you now.” You froze at your misstep.

He would probably never notice it, but you had. It really hadn’t been your intention to fall in love with your boss, but he had been so sweet and kind to you that it had happened naturally. The way his eyes lit up when he smiled, the energy he had for the things he loved, his strength and dedication had all lead you here.

“I’m not going to let anything like that happen to you again. Or anyone. I’ll make sure your past employers get investigated.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

There was silence in Izuku’s house as you stared down at the carrot you had been cutting. In an effort to lighten the mood, you tried to make another joke.

“You know, that first day when you invited me to lunch, I thought you were hitting on me.” You laughed a little bit at the absurdity of it. “I know now that you would never do that, obviously.”

You heard the crash when Izuku dropped the mug of tea he had been holding. Before you could move, he was scrambling to pick it up, cheeks bright red and flaming.

“I-Oh, this is terribly awkward.” Izuku mumbled, no doubt thinking you couldn’t hear him.

“Wait. Were you flirting with me?” You asked, breathless.

“No! I mean…not…not then,” he stammered.

“Are you-” You stopped, taking a moment to gather your courage as Izuku stood, effectively giving up on the shards of pottery at his feet. “Are you flirting with me now?”

He stiffened, looking deeply uncomfortable as he met your gaze.

“Yes. I mean, not intentionally! It’s just that I have feelings with you, but I would never act on them. I would never want to make you uncomfortable and if you feel like you need to resign now because of that, I understand. I would be happy to recommend you to any of the other pro-heroes I know, and I can assure you they would make excellent bosses.”

You crossed the room to stand in front of him, taking one of his awkwardly flailing hands in your own.

“I think I am going to have to resign, unfortunately.” You watched his face fall before quickly correcting yourself. “It seems like it would be inappropriate to date my boss. I have feelings for you too, Izuku.”

Rising up on your tiptoes, you dared to kiss his cheek, hot from his blush and scattered with freckles.

“You do?”

The question is quiet, but you hear it clearly with his breath in your ear, faces still close from where you haven’t dared to move. You pull back now, surveying his awestruck face.

“Yes. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. I guess it was sort of inevitable that I would fall for you.”

You smiled, biting your lip and staring down at your feet. Izuku’s warm, calloused hand reached up to your cheek, pulling your gaze up to his.

“So does this mean you want to be with me?”

The words seemed too good to be true, striking somewhere deep in your chest and knocking you breathless. Yes. Please, yes, let it be true.

“I would like that very much. If you would, I mean.”

Izuku nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! That was never my intention with this, but after getting to know you, I really do like you. I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but I think you’re beautiful and clever and funny and I would love to take you out on a date, if that’s something you would want.”

You smiled, leaning gently into the palm of his hand that cupped your face, bringing your own hand up to twine your fingers together.

“I think that sounds perfect.”

Izuku laughed softly, and you could hear the emotion in the sound.

“You know, I was so lonely before you. I was really just hoping for a friend when I hired you. I thought maybe we would get along okay and I could have someone to keep me company. I was crushed when you said you liked to keep it professional, but I vowed to myself I would honor your wishes.”

“Yeah. We both did a great job of keeping it professional.” You gestured to your surroundings, snickering to yourself.

“I seem to recall you inviting me into your home first,” he teased.

“Hey! I was having a home decorating crisis! I could not build that shelf myself.”

“Or, as it turns out, with my help.”

You snorted at the memory of your backwards shelf, which you had eventually decided to just make do with. As it turned out, Izuku was terrible at building furniture. He was great at making you happy though.

“Well, it all turned out for the best.”

“It sure did. But I think we can both agree that you’re the one who’s not professional here.”

You rolled your eyes, rising up on your tiptoes.

“How’s this for professional?” You breathed.

Izuku seemed like he might ask questions, but before he could, you kissed him gently. When you pulled away, you were both smiling. Your hands had moved to wrap around his neck, and his hand had fallen to your waist.

“I think I’m really starting to like professionalism.”