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villainsandvictimsalliance · 3 years ago

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Would you please give me headcanons about how shigadabi caught feeling for each other? Loosely sticking to canon if you can🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

That "loosely sticking to canon" is a little tricky for me. Why? Because in the canon I see them as two guys that find comfort in knowing that someone understands them and they are free to do as they please because the other won't stop them.

This is gonna be a long one and I apologize for it, but I love them so much. I can't help it.

Still, here are my headcanons 😈:

In the beginning, Dabi is never around and when he is, he's being mean and annoying in the background. Shigaraki doesn't tolerate him, but he respects him. Since they met, Shigaraki knew that boy wouldn't stop to achive what he wanted, just like himself.

There was a moment between them, the seed of something. Before the summer camp attack, Shigaraki called Dabi apart so he could set the nomu to respond to his voice and his voice only. You can imagine Shigaraki walking up to him, telling him to follow and Dabi being a piece of trash about it.

Shigaraki them tells him why he's needed out loud and turns around, already walking. The rest of the League complains or comments in the background but Dabi leaves them without a word. He's too busy thinking Tomura must be really stupid to trust him when he barely knows him. Or well he could— He could be smart enough to see through him?

With the years, Dabi has learned to be careful of those guys. He doesn't trust people, no exceptions. He prefers to think Tomura is an idiot.

Being honest, that was the minute Dabi decided he would try to read Tomura. He was he new boss, Dabi was only only being careful. Nothing more.

Let's keep the imaging.

Tomura sits and he unceremoniously calls the nomu, gives him some commands and tells Dabi to use his voice to give him the same commands. They do it a couple of times until Shigaraki is satisfied and Dabi is free to go.

For someone else watching, it was cold and professional. For them, it was kinda weird. There was a little tension than neither of them was acknowledging and there was a quietness, a silence Tomura was used to. It was weird because it felt like they were alone, because they were used to being alone, but somehow they were being alone together— with the freaking nomu. It felt like visiting the vet. Dabi didn't like it.

Time goes by. Things happen.

They have a silent agreement that marks Dabi as one of Shigaraki's commander. He's a special one tho, because apparently he can do whatever the he he wants. He says he's gonna recruit? Tomura approves it with a simple nod and that's it.

Since we have only seen Twice's apartment, I'm assuming here that the rest of the League lived in the bar with Kurogiri and Tomura. Which makes sense because they wouldn't have anywhere else to go.

The only times Shigaraki and Dabi are together is when Dabi occasionally return to their base for whatever reasons. It is loud and crowded so they don't get the chance to interact that much. What they can do is observe the other.

None of them is ashamed of doing it. They stare and stare back. The League plays it off because that's probably two idiots trying to assert dominance or some shit.

It's stupid and they only find out about useless things. What they like to drink, how they walk or react to certain things, what throws them off, what makes them happy... Things you'd know about your classmate.

Their interactions change after what happened in Kamino and the night Magne died.

Dabi was taken by surprise when he saw Tomura walking in. He was calm, collected, even more honest than usual. When he took the hand off his face, the whole room held their breath.

His features were delicate, even beneath all the scars and dry skin. He's eyes were gentle, which was scarier than his maniac look. They held blood and the promise of danger, but not to them. Dabi brushed it off later.

Dabi keeps being his sarcastic self. Shigaraki doesn't react that much. Their barriers are tight closed as ever. Except when...

Well, those nights. The ones they don't talk about. The ones when Dabi is drunk and Tomura is way too sleep deprived and they find themselves insulting the other in hushes. They're normally out of the League's hearing range, alone in some abandoned part of their actual base.

Catching feelings for the other is a good expression. It's like they're catching a cold or something viral by accident. You just have to be in the wrong place at the right time to get yourself infected.

Their minds are blurry and their hearts are feeling raw the first time they interact like that. It's like Dabi is nothing but a young man trying to find his way back home from some bar because he was done with his working week. Or maybe Tomura is a tired student who's been dealing with a lot of stress and it's feeling bare and naked with his hair floating around with the wind.

They look at each other like they always do. Like trying to solve a mystery. Like trying to put together a puzzle. Like trying to decipher a code you shouldn't be worried about, but it distracts you from the world so why not.

Tomura is the one who notices Dabi is bleeding. He points it out. Dabi shrugs and then Tomura just shakes his head and starts walking, Dabi following him, recognizing that face from being a silent command.

For the rest of the night, Dabi teaches Shigaraki how to fix his staples and Shigaraki does so, taking the hand away from his face for better care.

They wonder about the other. How can Tomura know so much about fighting when it looked like he always lived alone? Why was Dabi drinking something stronger than usual? Where his scars always there? Had he patched someone else before? Was Dabi used to other people patching him?

They go to sleep. When they wake up, the only think in their heads is this can't happen again. They got distracted. Distraction means getting softer. That's a no no for them.

Except it happens again. And again. Until it starts happening when they're sober and they know they're screwed. They shouldn't be feeling safe enough with each other to don't feel the need to say something. They shouldn't be on the non-verbal stage. They shouldn't be taking turns what the other sleep to keep guard. Shigaraki shouldn't know where Dabi is most of the time, in case he wants to go and visit him in secret. The League doesn't know where they go most of the time, anyway.

If you're looking for a phrase to prove they have caught feelings for the other, you have no luck. They don't trust words, because most words are lies. But they can't lie when they look into each other's eyes

And against all odds, it changes nothing. No one suspects a thing, no one can sees them. Of course, what is there to see? Nothing at all. Just a king and his commander. Or maybe, just two guys sharing what's not there.

Because there's nothing there. If Dabi craves Tomura's fingers on his back, it's only because he's hurt again. If Tomura longs for waking up to the sound of Dabi's smoking by the window, it's because that means he doesn't have to sleep for a least a while now.

Dabi looks at Tomura across the room and thinks It's like catching a cold. It's gonna go away. A cold won't distract him from his revenge. When the time comes, he won't think about Tomura. And he's right. It's just a cold. Tomura is happy is just a cold too.

Ah, there's a problem, one we know but they forgot. It is too easy to catch a cold. They come back with the season, when we're vulnerable and cold. And if you catch enough colds and you don't cure them properly, it can become something worst. More permanent. More deadly.

For what they want, I hope they're being careful. Sure, they're fine right now, healthy, they talk and laugh and plan and murder. Do they sleep well at night? When they're hearts are freezing and they are too drunk or too sleep deprived, do they still go to each other? When their brains won't stop working, would the miss those nights? Would they wonder? Would they wish? We see only the surface, but beyond their walls...

Are they badly sick? Oh. Are they... Maybe.... No, of course not, but... When no one sees them, when no one talks, when they don't have to be something else, when they can just exists... When the remember their voices echoing in that room, that time, first time alone, just a nomu and their stares...

And sometimes, they'd look into each other's eyes just to make sure they still know how to do it. And they go crazy, becuase they must be doing somethinf wrong.

It is not an I won't see you die under my watch, so don't die until I'm back and it is not an I'll be taking care of myself too, so don't complain and it is not an prove it, come back safe and sound, come back to me.

That's not what they say. That's not what it means.

And still.

Red eyes.

Blue eyes.

And silence.

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witchiswriting · 4 years ago

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Pillowtalk

Summary: Dearest @thewalkingdead-imagines requested a fic with prompts “You’re just a softie.” and “You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.” So it’s basically a piece of fluff. Hope you enjoy!

Pairings: Negan x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, slight touching, Negan being Negan

Recently it’s been very busy for you and Negan. After taking over a new place with your boyfriend your quality time starts to get lessen. Forming a new authority was hard and keeping people in line was harder.

The Sanctuary had ruled by a horrible excuse of a man for a long time. When you and your boyfriend Negan came across the place you two thought maybe you finally found your permanent home. All of your old groups had been slaughtered but you two managed to survive.

At first, everything seemed okay with your new home. Negan was working right under the leader. He charmed the douche in such a short time. After all Negan was a born-ready leader and sharp.

But things started getting weird after a month or so. Several disgusting incidents as rape and physical abuse took place and that shit excuse of a leader just gave the people who’s been abused a pep talk about how they must protect themselves.

Not too long after the events, you and Negan started to spend long nights over discussing how you can discard the leader and take charge. No one deserved this bad treatment even if it’s apocalypse.

So, that was how you had taken over the position as leaders. Negan was proud to lead with you along his side. Things were getting better, but the leadership also brought long working hours and frequent runs to turn this place into a proper and safe one.

Negan has been gone for two days with a few men, they were looking for supplies and trustworthy people to bring back. The Sanctuary had its resident but with the new changes Negan found himself in need of more people.

You huffed as you finished your work at the inventory. You took the job of finding people, especially women, a job. That misogynistic asshole considered women nothing but a doormat. So, you paid extreme attention to give everyone a fair and suitable job.

Feeling tired and hungry you took faster steps to your room, smiling and having a small talk with people on the way. You were content with the things.

There was one thing which bothers you. After becoming the leader, Negan became the new attraction of some single women. They tried to threw themselves at him repeatedly, but he brushed them off instantly, though it did nothing to lessen your jealousy.

Just as you reached the door one of your assistants came next to you, she seemed out of breath.

‘Y/N, they’re back.’ She said with a cheerful tone.

Knowing Jane, you knew what she was talking about. Her husband was Negan’s right hand man Simon, so it was no surprise that she looks over the moon.

Despite all of your exhaustion, you immediately started toward downstairs. You and Negan has been together for a year now, but the time did nothing to appease your love and respect for each other.

Just as you stepped out of the gates, you met with a pair of familiar hazel eyes. Without giving a thought you just jumped into your lover’s arms.

Negan let out an amused chuckle. His deep voice rumbled through your ears. This man made you nothing but crazy for himself.

‘Fuck! Somebody’s missed me.’ Negan kissed your jaw, starting his way down to your neck.

‘Shut up. As you wouldn’t miss me if I go away for days.’ You nudged your nose along his.

‘Bold of you to assume that I’d leave you alone babe. You know me, I would get so lonely; especially at night.’ He smirked mischievously.

‘You horny bastard. Here I thought my boyfriend would be too sad staying without me.’ You feigned a hurt expression.

‘Sweetheart, you know what I mean. Also, you fucking know well that me and my dick don’t do fine without your smoking hot body.’ He grabbed your ass, making a scene for everyone without giving a damn.

‘Negan!’ you tried pushing him but ending up bursting into giggles.

After some more dallying with each other you finally decided to go back to your room so you can have some rest.

Along the way you came across Sherry, she was one of the women who tried getting into your boyfriend’s pants.

‘Oh, Negan. You’re back safe and sound. Thank God.’ She said with a sickeningly sweet tone.

‘Fuck yeah, I mean I’m invincible and my girl knows how strong I am.’ He bit his bottom lip teasingly. You know Negan was just fucking with her. He was well aware of the fact that his recent position piqued interest of some women and he made it his mission to mock them, repeatedly.

Although Negan was handling himself well you couldn’t help your jealousy. Negan’s been always a handsome man and now with being in charge his admirers started to increase. They weren’t getting the fact that he’s taken. No matter how hard he tries.

Putting an annoying smile on your face you cleared your throat before speaking. ‘Babe, do you mind reminding me how strong you are?’ You stood on your toes and bit his earlobe. ‘I might be forgetting it. You being gone and me being lonely…’ You put your hand on his chest, slightly fisting his white t-shirt to feel his toned body.

Negan didn’t even try to hold his growl back. ‘As you can fucking see I’m busy as shit right now, need to take care of my girl. So, have a nice day Shirley.’ Negan walked away nonchalantly but you failed at holding your laugh as you saw Sherry’s face when Negan called her Shirley.

When you reached to your room Negan let himself down on the bed. He was clearly exhausted and sleepy as fuck.

‘Doll, as much as I’d like to fuck your brains out for hours daddy needs his fucking beauty sleep. So, take of your clothes and lie down with me.’ He looked at you with his pleading puppy eyes.

Honestly, you were in no state to decline his offer since you too were exhausted as fuck, but his puppy eyes also made your heart flutter. ‘I lay with you if you take your shirt off.’

‘Dirty girl, never failing to amaze me.’ He bit his lower lip while chuckling. Started getting out of his shirt slowly, giving you a funny show.

You giggled loudly. ‘You know what Negan? You’d suck as a stripper.’ You straddled his hips.

‘Now why would you fucking say that and hurt my feelings baby doll?’ He faked a pout.

‘C’mon big boy, I need sleep as much as you. I’ve been working off my ass for all day.’ You hit him back to bed and put your head on his chest, playing with short curls on his chest.

‘Mmh. I’m gonna fucking remind you how talented I am with my dick and moves, after I fucking sleep.’ He mumbled sleepily and drifted off to sleep shortly after.

You felt a movement behind you and stirred. Your body was protesting for you to go back to sleep.

‘Fuck!’ you let out a yawn and turned around. You found yourself sprawled out on Negan.

‘What the hell Negan?’ you whined sleepily.

‘Doll, I don’t know if you fucking notice, but you’re using me as your own pillow.’ He huffed.

You raised your head with an annoying expression on your face. ‘Oh, pardon me mister. You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.’ You stated as a matter of fact.

‘You’re lucky you’re fucking cute, lie down baby.’ He muttered in a loving voice.

‘Did you seriously wake me up for that and now you’re telling me to continue using you as my fucking personal pillow?’ You hissed, getting interrupted while sleeping is one of the things you despised the most.

‘Babe, c’mon let’s go back to sleep and after that we can make sweet love.’ He begged with his eyes closed.

‘What? You, Negan, are going to make love to me? You’re just a softie.’ You let out a laugh.

‘Don’t tempt me little girl.’ He tried to sound stern as possible, but the exhaustion was clear in his deep tone.

‘Oh, what would you fucking do, daddy?’

In an instant he flipped you over and now standing between your legs, thrusting into your pelvis slowly.

You couldn’t help but let out a satisfied moan.

‘What were you saying baby girl?’ He chuckled with an erotic undertone in his voice.

‘Fuck! Negan, stop teasing and get into it!’ You started grinding yourself on him.

You aren’t getting any sleep tonight.

@negans-network

#negan #negan x reader #negan-network #jeffrey dean morgan #jdm #twd #the walking dead #twd negan #negan fluff #negan smut #negan fanfiction

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officialgomezaddams · 4 years ago

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Morality

I honestly dk what this is but its set in AOTC kinda want to turn this into a little series $wag also shout out to my fellow nihilists this is for you bb

Palpatine had always kept watchful over her but never loomed. It would have been too obvious. When he met Anakin, it was like a breath of fresh air, a realization that this little boy was destined to restore the balance in the force and his daughter, Y/n, would be the one to defeat him. He had begun the idea of his daughter once he joined the Darkside, already knowing that the possibility to be overthrown was something he couldn’t let happen. The dark energy, the power, was simply too much to let go of. The moment he saw the nine-year-old boy, the lord was happy to know that the power would stay on the dark side.

Dooku trained Y/n as a padawan, and when he left the order, he took Y/n with him, kidnapping her into the night. When she asked why they were leaving the temple as he dragged her into a ship, he simply replied, “Sometimes when politicians can’t do their job, we must do something ourselves.” Over the years together, he would open up more, telling Y/n about the death of Qui-Gon and every step that drove him to leave.

“The Jedi rely on selflessness. To strip one’s ability to have connection and emotion. They lose themselves in conformity. We need to take control of the life we’re given. Emotion, passion, drive. Those are how we will be victorious. Corrupt politicians pull the Jedi around like kites on strings. You can not try and save a house that its lousy foundation has torn down. Tear it down and build a new one.”

It was her job to ensure just that, a new foundation set within the heart of the Darkside. Relentless training to mentally and physically defeat the chosen one. Palpatine would often tell her that her destiny was a part of the Sith Two, that the strongest one of the two would survive, and it was to be her. Darth Sidious found comfort that his creation would take over the Darkside once she had killed him and the Count. The most decisive Jedi ruling on the side of the night.

She didn’t quite understand it, but to stay on the Darkside made the most sense to her. It wasn’t about power. It was the lifestyle. Why be selfless if there was no personal gain? Why spend a life living for something else? Shouldn’t one live their life for themselves? Everyone, she determined, had to want something. As long as she did what she wanted, it was enough. It had to be. Because without drive and her idea of what was truly right and wrong, how would she get anything done?

She rationed that it all didn’t matter. She would never know who was right because, in her mind, the concept of being right varied too much. The Jedi thought they were right, the sith thought they were right, the politicians who voted against their people’s needs thought they were right. She had to suffer through Palpatine’s long lectures about how awful the senate was and now terrible the Jedi Order is. But who was to say he was right? That was only his opinion. Who was to say the Jedi were right because a frog that was almost nine hundred years old said so?

“I’m just…” Anakin went on, pulling a piece of grass out of the ground. “I mean, I don’t know. Padmè is beautiful and wonderful. She’s everything that could make someone perfect: marriage, it’s so permanent. I know I’m supposed to be excited, which I am, of course. But what if we were not supposed to be together.”

His speech made her frown. “Sometimes, it’s better just to dive in and see where you land.” She offered. The dreams with Anakin were a peaceful escape to a Jedi’s life. Neither knew why their dreams brought them together or what they even meant. Neither of them bothered, living the same training life on opposite sides. A sweet dream was the perfect reward. “And who are you going to be with then, me?” She teased back.

The setting of the dreams was in the meadows of Naboo. The pastel-colored flowers stood dim in the moonlight from the starry night above. Anakin laid with his head in her lap as they talked about their personal lives, never going in too deep about what their destinies were. Anakin no longer had the pressure of being the chosen one, and Y/n never had to admit she would kill the chosen one.

“I wish,” Anakin admitted, now looking up at her. “I want so bad to meet you Y/n, not just in my dreams but in real life. If I could have you by my side, all of this would be less confusing. I’ve fallen in love with you, a woman in my dreams. Why can’t you be in my reality?”

“Don’t say that,” She whispered. Whenever Anakin talked about his little girl-thing, Y/n wasn’t even one hundred percent sure what their relationship was, and she always felt a slight nic in her heart. Y/n knew that she was in love with Anakin, but to hear about another woman making him the happiest he’s been in the majority of the years that she knew him, that it wasn’t her, the one sneaking in kisses with him in the shadows. It brought out an ugly feeling of jealousy and possessiveness to Y/n that she didn’t know she had.

“I promise, one day, I’ll be with you in all the ways you want.” She spoke with a smile. She would often daydream about what life would be like to meet him real-time. They would run up to each other and crush each other in a hug. She imagined it all.

“Tell me about it,” Anakin edged on, closing his eyes as if it was going to play out in his head.

“Well, I want to go somewhere like D’Qar, somewhere quiet where I won’t have to worry about neighbors or anyone I don’t want finding me. Or us, because you’re coming with me no matter what your soon-to-be wife says,” You teased, making him laugh. “Maybe- Sometimes in my dreams, there’s no Padmè, it’s just us, and every so often there are kids, but it’s just us. Tucked away where we can be together, and nothing can bother us or stop us from being together.”

The silence that sat in between them began to scare Y/n, “Is that a future you would want with me?”

His eyes met hers, a peaceful moment in the chaos of their lives. He reached up to tuck a strand of hair that fell in front of her face, behind her ear. “If I were able to, I would.”

“And why can’t you? Why can’t you have the things you want, Anakin? Is it wrong to be happy?”

Waking up from the dreams was always the most challenging part, the reality of it not being a reality. Y/n woke up already in a bad mood, mentally kicking herself for pushing too far in. Of course, he wouldn’t want to. He’s getting married to someone else. You’re too late. It had always been Y/n’s plan to end up with Anakin in some way or another. From the first dream to now, she decided to leave the Sith once she had killed the chosen one. Somedays, she would pace around, impatiently waiting for whoever held the title to cross her path so she could just finish the job and take the next ship to wherever Anakin was.

She tore the necklace he had given her off her neck, clutching the carven japor snippet in her hand with a grip so hard she could have cracked it if it wasn’t made out of stone. She was squeezing her eyes shut, trying not to cry. Anakin had given Y/n the good luck charm when they were at the age of thirteen. Y/n was upset that once everything was over that he may not want to be with her, the reputation of her choices would drive him away.

“Well, you can’t be that bad,” He commented, pulling out the carved stone from his pocket and shyly handing it to her. “I made this for you,” Anakin explained as she put it around her neck, “So that when good things happen, you can think of me. It’ll be my way of keeping you safe, and in return, one day, you will come to me safely.”

She opened her eyes and stared at the carvings, remembering how Anakin said he made it just for her, so she better not lose it. Y/n wanted to break it, throw it away, and never see Anakin again. She wanted more than just the dreams. She wanted the sunsets and the early morning and the rainy days - all of it. Maybe they were wrong, they weren’t supposed to meet, and it was just a nice dream.

She couldn’t do that. She at least owes him a simple greeting, and then she can get rid of him. Putting the necklace back on and wiping her face to make sure she wasn’t crying, Y/n walked out of the room, ready for whatever the sith wanted her to do.

“Just be patient,” Her master told her as they waited outside the still open ship. Geonosis was overrun with battle, the sith fighting tooth and bone to claim the planet as its capital, the major droid foundries, and its Mandalorians. Nothing could be more perfect for the sith. The two force signatures caught Y/n’s attention. Looking up at Dooku, she told him, “Well, let’s make it quick then.”

“The chosen one will be here,” he whispered back. “I’ll leave that one to you.”

“You’re gonna pay for all the Jedi you killed, Dooku,” A familiar voice said as you both turned around in unison. “Y/N?” A pit dropped in her stomach. It was him, Anakin. Anakin’s blue saber was pointed at the ground, more focused on her than the older man.

The necklace he gave her burned her through her robes. Anakin was finally there in front of her. This Anakin was different from her dreams. He stood with more pride and confidence. He was also the chosen one. “I-I didn’t expect to meet you like this,” She told him, knowing full well once on the ship, she would be interrogated about her knowledge of the boy.

“Why are you with him?” The venom in his voice almost made her feel guilty about being who she was. “Are you-? Don’t tell me Y/n-” He couldn’t find the words to express his confusion and disappointment, “You’re a Sith. How can you be with them? You lied to me! Can’t you see what they’re doing to you? Can’t you see what they’ve done!”

“The Jedi know no facts,” She spoke, looking over at the Count, waiting for his head nod and sign of approval to ignite her orange saber. The whole weapon was made for destruction, a perfect saber to kill the chosen one. Its orange glow was representing strength. The curved hilt that matched hers of her masters was perfect for duels and close fights. “Only assumptions.”

It hurt her to have him looking at her in disgust. As if she was suddenly less than him because of her beliefs. “Anakin, you need to calm down,” She warned him as he charged towards her, only for Dooku to step in front of her, raising his hand to send bolds of electricity into the boy’s body and fling him into a rock wall. “Don’t keep me waiting,” Her master spoke before walking up the platform of the ship.

Y/n only had seconds to understand that not only her master had abandoned her, Anakin was also lying limp in a pile of rocks, and the other Jedi was making his way towards her. She pointed her saber straight ahead at him, taking careful steps around him, trying to think about how this all would end. Was this it? When is supposed to kill the chosen one who happened to be the boy Y/n had fallen in love with over the past ten years? She knew that once she killed Anakin, she would have to kill the two sith above her, starting the two over with her as a master.

“I heard the little green guy talks highly of you, Kenobi. What a pity it will be when I kill his two strongest men.”

Obi-wan shook his head, “You’re not Dooku’s apprentice. You’re just an assassin to him. Y/n why would he elect a child to be his successor?” He spoke as if he could read her mind, his blue eyes pleading with her.

“You don’t know anything!” Y/n yelled, making the first strike. His saber skills were advanced, but quickly she was able to disarm him and left two marks on him, one on his arm and one on his thigh. She walked up to him, the two staring at each other. Was she about to kill this man? She had never killed a human before. Taking down droids and other creatures were casual to her. Humans? This man was edging her on with his eyes, both understanding that she wasn’t able to drive her saber into his neck. She couldn’t just kill a man who had done nothing to her. That would be wrong, right? But if it was so bad, why was she encouraged to do it?

Before she could thoroughly choose, Anakin came at full force again. This time his master had tossed him his saber, making the fight two against one. “Why won’t you join our site, the right side?” Anakin asked, swiftly dodging her but failing to make any advancements to disarming her.

“I don’t believe in any right sides.” She told him, knocking the green lightsaber out of his hand, evening out the fight. “I believe in one thing. Power of human will.”

She walked into the ship quietly, ignoring the little green Jedi behind her. She didn’t care about the older man, Yoda or Count Dooku. She walked past the sith and made her way right to the pilot’s seat before sitting down.

Dooku followed her, giving her space as she sat down. Crossing his arms like a disappointed parent, he asked, “Well?”

“I cut his arm off,” Y/n spoke, taking out the necklace and looking at the charm in her hand. She left right after, watching him lay unconscious against his master, missing apart of his right arm. She had hurt him, and for a moment, when she was looking at the injured pair, the padawan’s master had the same look on his face as before. An eyebrow raised as if to say, Do it, kill us. I doubt you’ll do it.

“I’m disappointed in you.” He said. Y/n could have done it. She would have just pictured them as droids and slice the two in half. It would have been quick and painless. She could have plaid her life out, kill the chosen one, rule the sith, and live her life. Why didn’t you? She kept thinking as she admired the gift.

Looking at the charm, the future she talked about seemed too far away, especially now. The end with the boy she loved, Anakin, who also was the boy she was supposed to kill. But for right now, she thought to herself. She wouldn’t kill him, at least not yet, until she knew for sure that her fantasies with Anakin were just wild dreams. It was her own life. Why couldn’t she have the things she wanted?

#anakin skywalker imagine #star wars imagine #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker imagines #star wars imagines #anakin imagines #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars x reader

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inkslingersworld · 3 years ago

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Zusammen: Part I

The setting sun illuminated the city of Paris with a warm orange glow, and although the rest of Adrien’s friends had gone home already, Kagami had made the proposition that the two of them should take a walk along the Seine before night fell. Adrien felt inclined to agree, seeing as he had canceled several of their previous dates for superhero reasons, and even though he’d since told Kagami of his identity as Chat Noir and she’d acted as though the date cancellations didn’t bother her, Adrien could see beneath the happy facial expression she put on to find the disappointment.

It was only fair to partially make it up to Kagami by taking a walk with her - besides, the weather was fantastic. There weren’t many people out. They’d stopped by a little cafe they enjoyed going to and purchased coffees for themselves. The atmosphere was near-perfect.

Kagami didn’t say anything until they approached the Eiffel Tower.

“Adrien?”

He turned his head towards hers. “Yeah?”

She opened her mouth, but then closed it again. “Never mind.”

“What is it?” Adrien asked.

“I don’t want to intrude upon your privacy,” said Kagami flatly.

“Kagami, anything you want to ask me, I’ll tell you the answer.”

Kagami stared into his eyes and sighed. “What happened to your mother?”

This was not what Adrien had expected. It was now his turn to sigh.

“I wish I could tell you,” he said, “but the truth is, I don’t know myself.”

“She just disappeared?” asked Kagami.

Adrien sighed again. “Not exactly.”

He stopped walking. Kagami stopped as well, gazing at him with a concerned expression. Adrien looked back gravely.

“What I’m about to tell you, I haven’t told anyone,” he said solemnly. “Not Nino, not Marinette, not any of my friends. I’m not ready for them to know yet, so you don’t repeat this to anyone, okay?”

Kagami nodded. Adrien sighed a third time.

“I was at a photoshoot with Nathalie. Father said he couldn’t make it, said he had some important business to attend to. After we’d wrapped up, we returned to see police cars outside my house. Someone had tried to assassinate my father.”

Kagami let out a small gasp.

“He was fine,” Adrien continued, starting to walk again, with Kagami joining him. “He’d knocked out the would-be assassinator and took his gun, tied him up so he couldn’t escape.”

“Who was it?” Kagami asked fearfully.

“A mentally disturbed fan of his,” said Adrien. “I never did learn his name, but Father had apparently had experience with him in the past. The fan started getting paranoid, said my father was stealing his designs. Anyways, according to my father, the fan opened fire on the house. Father told Mother to run, and so she ran.”

After ten seconds of silence, Kagami said, “That’s all you ever found out?”

Adrien nodded. “She never came home.”

A few more seconds passed.

“I’m so sorry,” said Kagami. “I really am. Nobody ever found out about the assassination attempt?”

“Nope,” said Adrien, sniffing. “It was gonna be on the news, but Father made a few deals to keep it from going public. Said that someone trying to shoot him was bad publicity. All anybody ever found out was that my mother had vanished off the face of the Earth.”

“Did you ever, like, hate the shooter?” Kagami asked softly.

“Strangely enough, no,” said Adrien contemplatively. “I felt sorry for him, actually. I mean, yeah, I did kinda loath him, cause he was indirectly responsible for my mother’s disappearance, but you should’ve seen the guy. Most pitiful person I’ve ever seen. At his criminal trial, he actually asked to be put on death row.”

“He what?”

“I know, right?” Adrien said. “In the end, he received a fifteen year prison sentence.”

They walked in silence for a while, letting Adrien’s tale soak in. After a couple minutes, Kagami spoke.

“Would you like to hear about my father?”

“Sorry?”

“My father,” repeated Kagami. “You told me about your mom, so I should tell you about my dad.”

Adrien had a bad feeling that the story of Kagami’s father would be a sad one indeed, but got the impression that Kagami wanted to tell him. So, he voiced that.

“Do you want to tell me?”

Kagami took a deep breath. “It might be nice to get it off of my chest, but I wouldn’t want to burden you with the story if you’re not willing.”

“I wouldn’t be burdened,” said Adrien quickly. “In fact, I was curious as to why I’ve only seen your mother.”

“I used to live with my father,” Kagami said sorrowfully. “He was a painter. When I was four years old, he took me to an art museum in Sapporo, which was where we lived in Japan. I remember my feelings of awe at the sight of such beautiful artwork, and I asked him whether we could go there every day. We did not end up going there daily, but the two of us would head there every Tuesday, because they’d have a guest speaker there on that day of the week.”

They were crossing the Pont Marie now. The sun was only a half-circle in the distance.

“When I was nine,” Kagami went on, “he experienced his first psychotic break. He was convinced that he was on a boat that was sinking, and he was admitted to a psychiatric institution the following day. The doctors told my mother that my father possessed a previously unknown psychological disorder, and that he may need to stay at the institution permanently.”

“Is he still there?” Adrien asked worriedly.

Kagami shook her head. “No, um, he stayed at the institution for another five years. My mother and I visited him regularly. Most of the time, he didn’t recognize us and mistook us for someone else. Sometimes he didn’t see us at all. His last night at the institution, he recognized me. He let me ride piggyback on his shoulders, like he used to. While we were walking, he said to me, ‘Gami, look at those sculptures! Aren’t they exquisite?’”

Kagami let out a shaky breath. “There were no sculptures.”

“Then what happened?” asked Adrien.

A single tear slid down Kagami’s cheek. “Our visit ended, we went home, and the next morning, he hung himself with his own clothes.”

“Oh my god,” Adrien said, horrified. “I’m so sorry.”

Kagami wiped her face. “The last words he said to me were, ‘Tomorrow’s Tuesday. I hear they’re going to have a very prolific photographer at the museum. Won’t that be fun?’”

More tears spilled out of Kagami’s eyes, and she hugged Adrien at the same time he hugged her. They stood there for what felt like days.

When they finally parted, Adrien asked, “Is that why you moved to Paris?”

Kagami nodded.

“How did you survive something like that?”

Kagami gave him a watery smile. “I met you.”

Adrien could almost hear his heart go ping. He smiled back and placed his lips on hers.

“I’m never going to leave you,” he whispered into her mouth.

It was nighttime now. The stars were unusually bright in the sky as Adrien and Kagami made their way through the streets of Paris. They were nearing the Louvre when Kagami pointed to their right.

“Look!”

Adrien turned. She was pointing at the Pont des Arts.

“Do you want to go that way?” he asked her.

Kagami nodded.

As they crossed the bridge, Kagami said, “Did you know couples used to attach padlocks with their initials carved into them on this bridge?”

“That does sound familiar, yeah,” said Adrien. “Wouldn’t they throw the key into the Seine?”

“Yep,” said Kagami. “Too bad all those locks posed a safety hazard due to extra weight on the bridge and the city prevented other people from doing it. Otherwise, I would’ve brought one with me.”

Adrien stopped walking. “Hang on.”

Without warning, he trotted off in the opposite direction.

“Adrien?” called Kagami. “What are you doing?”

“Just hang on a sec!” Adrien called back.

Kagami saw a flash of green light. Another flash came about five seconds later, and she saw Adrien come running back.

“What was that?” Kagami asked.

Adrien only smiled. “I’ll tell you in the morning. It’s late now. Let’s go home.”

===========

Long after Adrien and Kagami had returned to their respective dwellings, just as the sun was preparing to rise after a good night’s sleep, a woman decided to walk across the Pont des Arts. She was used to getting up early in the morning and enjoyed picking up any litter night owls had left behind. However, when she got to the bridge, she didn’t see any litter. She saw something quite different.

Someone had carved something into the bridge’s wood. The letters weren’t particularly large, but passersby would have a hard time not seeing them.

A+K.

The woman frowned. She wondered who those two were.

An Adrigami piece for the end of monday. Hope you enjoyed it! (For those who don’t know, “zusammen” is German for “together”.

Hi again! I’ve decided to build on this for my own AU!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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my-bated-breath · 4 years ago

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Rage, Compassion, and the Bridge in Between

An essay on Katara’s emotions

On the spectrum of human emotion, rage and compassion exist on opposite ends. After all, rage is harsh and violent while compassion is soothing and nurturing; rage is unforgiving while compassion is all-forgiving. As such, they run a parallel course to each other, one canceling out the other whenever they do meet.

At least, that’s what we expect. We expect anger and kindness to be separate entities, and our media reflects this - a character is either severe or gentle, and in the rare case that they’re both, the contrast between their ability to hurt and their ability to heal is treated as a dichotomy. Except the human condition is not that simple, and sometimes, there is a not-so-simple story that remembers that.

In Avatar: The Last Airbender, Katara embodies the human condition - or more specifically, she embodies the duality within it. Throughout the show, her tenderness and her wrath are balanced in a way that renders her one of the most well-written female characters in children’s animation, perhaps even in all of television. Because Katara’s anger and compassion do not simply split themselves into two identities. Instead, they coexist and coalesce into one. They drive each other; they feed into each other; they are two sides of the same coin.

But how can that be true when opposite traits are supposed to clash and counter each other’s effects?

There’s no denying that at times, Katara’s anger and compassion serve to show two different sides of her. We even see this within the very first episode:

(on left) Katara: No that's it! I'm done helping you! From now on, you're on your own!

(on right) Katara: He's alive! We have to help!

At first, Katara’s irritation towards Sokka is what causes her to accidentally waterbend the iceberg open, in which the transcript describes her movements as “agitated.” However, as soon as she sees Aang, this irritation is replaced by concern for “the boy in the iceberg.” Hence, within a few minutes, we see how Katara can be motivated by compassion and rage separately.

Still, just because her kindness and anger are shown to be separate in many scenes that this separation applies to every scenario. Although Katara’s two opposite traits are opposite, that does not mean they are always opposing. Instead, they can fuel each other - her rage can fuel her compassion, and her compassion can fuel her rage.

Let’s see how.

Part 1 - Katara’s Rage Fuels Her Compassion

Throughout the series, Katara shares her grief over her mother’s death as a way to sympathize with others. In “The Southern Air Temple,” “Imprisoned,” and “Jet,” Katara tells Aang, Haru, and Jet about the effect the Fire Nation raids had on her, which establishes some of the most emotionally-charged scenes in these episodes. She is at her most vulnerable during these moments, laying bare a deep-rooted trauma in order to reach out and connect with someone else.

Dialogue from The Southern Air Temple

Katara: Aang, before we get to the temple, I want to talk to you about the airbenders.

Aang: What about 'em?

Katara: Well, I just want you to be prepared for what you might see. The Fire Nation is ruthless. They killed my mother, and they could have done the same to your people.

Dialogue from Imprisoned

Haru: Yeah. Problem is... the only way I can feel close to my father now is when I practice my bending. He taught me everything I know.

Katara: See this necklace? My mother gave it to me.

Haru: It's beautiful.

Katara: I lost my mother in a Fire Nation raid. This necklace is all I have left of her.

Haru: It's not enough, is it?

Katara: No.

Dialogue from Jet

Jet: The Fire Nation killed my parents. I was only eight years old. That day changed me forever.

Katara: Sokka and I lost our mother to the Fire Nation.

Jet: I'm so sorry, Katara.

However, these moments seem to distinctly lack any hint of anger from Katara’s end, so it may seem irrelevant to mention them here - that is, until we remember Katara had mentioned her mother one more time. Trapped in the Crystal Catacombs with a former enemy, she once again says that the Fire Nation took her mother away from her - but this time not with sympathy. No, this time she is filled with rage.

Dialogue from The Crossroads of Destiny

Zuko: You don't know what you're talking about!

Katara: I don't? How dare you! You have no idea what this war has put me through! Me personally! The Fire Nation took my mother away from me.

As Katara sits down, tears forming in her eyes, it becomes clear that her grief has festered into bitterness and anger towards the Fire Nation. By now, her grief is her anger, and so it’s not just shared pain Katara is empathizing within all four of these scenarios - it’s also shared rage.

She is gentle with Aang because she knows the effects of loss (inducing the Avatar State); she is sympathetic with Haru because she knows what she would be driven to do to have her mother back (inciting a prison break by stirring the prisoners’ righteous anger); and she is moved by Jet’s dedication to the Freedom Fighters because she would fight for the Southern Water Tribe too (against the Fire Nation, although Jet’s rage blinds him in a way that Katara’s doesn’t).

Then, in the Crystal Catacombs, it’s Katara’s anger towards the Fire Nation that uncovers her hidden pain. Her vulnerability is what causes Zuko’s words (“That’s what we have in common”) to resonate with her so much, enough for her to offer to heal his scar.

Therefore, Katara’s relationship with anger and grief (whether it’s emotionally-driven similar to how Aang enters the Avatar state or self-righteous similar to her calling the earthbender prisoners to action) is the foundation for some of her most compassionate moments in the series.

Part 2 - Katara’s Compassion Fuels Her Rage

Just as some of her most sympathetic moments are rooted in understanding someone else’s rage, many of Katara’s harshest moments see her acting on the behalf of others’ pain and needs.

As the designated “mother” of the Gaang, the Gaang’s more silly and immature antics often aggravate her and cause her to reprimand them severely, a clash that features prominently in Katara and Toph’s relationship.

In “The Chase” and “The Runaway,” Katara shouts at Toph for lacking a sense of responsibility. However, her indignation does not simply stem from taking personal defense, but from wanting to safeguard the family she has found in the Gaang. Then, both these times, Toph learns the true motives behind Katara’s overbearing actions through a conversation with Iroh and Sokka, respectively.

Dialogue from The Chase

Toph: People see me and think I'm weak. They want to take care of me, but I can take care of myself, by myself.

Iroh: You sound like my nephew, always thinking you need to do things on your own, without anyone's support. There is nothing wrong with letting the people who love you help you.

When Toph talks with Iroh in “The Chase,” Iroh imparts some wisdom on finding mutual support in friendship, implying that Katara pushing responsibilities onto Toph is her way of solidifying and upholding the loving and supportive dynamic within the Gaang.

Dialogue from The Runaway

Sokka: I'm gonna tell you something crazy. I never told anyone this before, but honestly? I'm not sure I can remember what my mother looked like. It really seems like my whole life, Katara's been the one looking out for me. She's always been the one that's there. And now, when I try to remember my mom, Katara's is the only face I can picture.

Toph: The truth is sometimes Katara does act motherly, but that's not always a bad thing. She's compassionate and kind, and she actually cares about me. You know, the real me. That's more than my own mom.

As the dialogue states, “Katara’s been the one looking out for [them].” Hence, her mothering tendencies towards Toph in “The Runaway” are evoked by her wanting to avoid the danger that Toph’s high-profile scamming is beginning to place them in. In other words, she simply wants to protect her makeshift family because “she actually cares about [Toph and the rest of the Gaang]. You know, the real [them].”

Katara’s ability to empathize with others, to see past facades and prejudices, is one of her defining traits. Earlier, in the episode “The Painted Lady,” Katara manages to see beyond the people of Jang Hui’s Fire Nation background and recognize that above all else, they are suffering from war and poverty. Consequently, they are people who need her.

As such, even the notion of abandoning the people of Jang Hui (as suggested by Sokka) enrages her because Katara is someone who “will never, ever turn my back on people who need [her]!”

Still, Katara’s desire to fight for a village of strangers cannot compare to the lengths she would take to protect Aang.

Dialogue from The Western Air Temple

Katara: You might have everyone else here buying your… transformation, but you and I both know you've struggled with doing the right thing in the past. So let me tell you something, right now. You make one step backward, one slip-up, give me one reason to think you might hurt Aang, and you won't have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I'll make sure your destiny ends ... right then and there. Permanently.

While Zuko was a bystander as Azula shot lightning at Aang, he was an active participant in his fight against Katara, whom, just moments ago, he shared an incredibly intimate moment with. But despite how Zuko betrayed Katara personally, it is the impact his betrayal had on Aang’s life (and death) that she focuses on. So even at her most threatening, Katara acts to protect someone else, Aang, the boy who is her friend and her family.

Together, all these instances reveal that Katara’s compassion is what grants her a protective instinct, and her protective instinct is what moves her to anger and violence.

Conclusion

Katara’s character provides invaluable insight into the relationship between compassion and rage, revealing how it is not simply black contrasting white, but a spread of grays and contradictions. After all, that is who Katara is. She is two sides of the same coin and the bridge in between.

Even more, that is the human condition - full of grays and contradictions, simultaneously negating and reciprocating, balancing and tipping the scales all at once. And perhaps human emotion, in all its breadth, cannot be contained to a two-dimensional spectrum where emotions can either be placed close together or on opposite ends - because humanity is of infinite dimensions, constructed from science, dictated by art. And yet, somehow it is a two-dimensional animated character who captures human complexity with such ease.

#atla #atla meta #katara #katara meta #my bated breath analyzes #my bated breath's posts #that's not to say that katara's anger cannot exist without compassion #nor her compassion without anger #but it's not mutually exclusive either #on a separate note i have more metas on katara written #so you can watch out for that #likes and reblogs are always appreciated #thank you all for reading!

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prinxlyart · 4 years ago

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Your Vinira is sSO SWEET MY HEART US MELTING! How Viney not only accept Emira' stutter but straight up loves it?! Oh my poor bleeding heart! Now, my own question: How do the redeemed Blight parents react to their relationship?

Ooohhh see at least in my Willumity headcanons, Alador and Odalia don’t redeem themselves for several years. Like, maybe 8 or 9 years from when our girls first start dating. I imagine Viney and Emira become a thing in roughly the same time frame. So Emira doesn’t even tell her parents about her girlfriend. Viney introduces Emira to her parent(s) (eventually, maybe after like 6 months of dating?? Maybe a year?) and they are super wary at first because a Blight???? Is dating our daughter?????? And Viney reassures them that yes, they’re dating and it’s not some wild ruse. That being said, the heads of the Blight family also don’t know they’re dating so like. They’re trying to keep their relationship on the DL.

But if I’m gonna dip deeper......

( way deeper. This is another one of those Long One’s, lol )

I think....if Alador and Odalia catch wind of their daughters dating people they don’t approve of, there would be hell to pay. Like, all of them being grounded until further notice and that means escorts to and from school, no friends, no extra curricular activities, nothing but school and home. Not even their “approved friends” are able to communicate with them because their scrolls would be confiscated. Tutors (babysitters) while they do homework and further studying on weekends. No contact with the outside world. And if they even try to speak with anyone at school? They’ll all be pulled from Hexside and be homeschooled from then on.

All the while they’ll be using their connections to have Viney, Willow and Luz expelled, permanently. They may not have too much sway over these delinquents’ lives, but they’re going to make sure they’ll never be able to advance in society. And then they find out that this “Luz” is the Human that dared go against Emperor Belos? I can’t even begin to imagine the hell they’d bring down on them all.

So yeah, there’s a lot of disaster scenarios like that that haunt the Blight girls and ensure that they’ll never tell their parents of their relationships and will keep most displays of affection away from the rats that would somehow get the word back to them. At first it might hurt Luz and Viney to not be able to be affectionate, but Willow 100% understands. She already has that history looming over her in her memory. Viney and Luz will often use the Secret Room of Shortcuts in order to just hang out with their respective girls between breaks when they can.

I genuinely don’t know how the timeline of events will play out in the show in regards to Belos and the portal. It could take just days, weeks, months??? Years???? Before he’s taken down accordingly and a new portal is made.

Regardless, I like to think that in that time though, the moment the twins turn 18, they leave and they take Amity with them. They’re not just going to sit idly by anymore. Whether that means revoking their family name by some intensive ritual or just fleeing and using whatever money they took with them to find an apartment somewhere, they need to get out from under their parents’ thumb. As soon as they’ve established new lives for themselves, they are as open with their relationships as they want. They might even be a little over-eager, what with Amity kissing her girlfriends for probably too long at school in front of everyone, or Emira actively distracting Viney from her work while on the clock.

By the time we get to the point where they’re trying to re-enter their children’s lives, it’s stiff and awkward at best and like bulls butting heads at worst. The Blights are using any method they can to bring their children back home, whether it’s promises of extra freedom or putting in a good word to their coven of choice; even sending them extravagant gifts that none of them want. This maybe goes on for about a year before the twins and Amity agree to meet with their former parents. They bring their respective partners with them too; not as back up or anything, but mostly as moral support and as a giant middle finger to their parents.

Alador and Odalia don’t hold back their disdain. For their children’s’ foolishness, for their childish behavior thats ruffled so many feathers within the Emperor’s coven, for the damage they’ve all done to the Blight name; and for their daughters’ choices in partners.

They could take all of the other nonsense their parents were spouting, but being so outwardly hostile to their respective partners??? That causes Emira to nearly turn the entire Blight Manor upside down and Amity to summon an abomination large enough to chuck the manor into the Boiling Sea with her parents inside. Edric manages (somehow) to keep them both sane long enough to continue their conversation, at which point I think the Blights simply write off their girls’ anger as petty childishness.

And that. Is what sets off Luz, Willow and Viney. They absolutely go off on the Blights and just tear them both a new one. I think it’s been a long time since the Blights actually feared anyone besides the Emperor, but in that meeting, they feared these teenagers who seemed to radiate more power than they’d ever been witness to before. I think Emira and Amity are both shocked but Edric just gets comfortable and summons some popcorn to watch the show because finally, someone is telling off these miserable witches they used to call their parents.

They don’t meet with their parents again for a few more years after that encounter. I think Emira and Viney maybe break up once for a week before getting back together due to a misunderstanding, but Amity couldn’t possibly be happier with her life as it goes on, free from her parents and being able to be with her girls as she wants.

Over the course of the following years, they all still receive correspondence from their parents. On every birthday, they send a sum of money and a simple greeting. Every holiday season is the exact same. I think Luz is the only one to actually reach out to Alador and Odalia. I think she sends them a photo of their most recent holiday get together; where everyone is smiling or laughing or making messes or whatever. The exact opposite of every holiday held at the Blight Manor. They see each of their children, smiling and looking truly happy. And on the back, Luz maybe writes something about wanting to speak to them. Alone. Not with Amity or Willow, not with Emira or Viney, not with Edric, no one else. Just Luz and the Blights. They agree.

When Luz meets with them, it’s tense. They’re all quiet and stiff and still have an aura of hatred hanging between them. But Luz clears her throat and informs them that she’s planning on proposing to Amity and Willow. She’s still not sure when, or how, but it’s something she’s planning. She also informs them that if they don’t want to miss another wedding, they’d better clean their acts up and fast. And she just hands them a small scrapbook full of pictures of Emira and Viney’s wedding. They hadn’t even known it had happened. They weren’t informed, let alone invited, and Luz was granting them possibly the only chance they’ll ever have again at being in their children’s lives. Luz lets them know to reach out to her if they decide they want to be in their kids’ lives again and leaves them with the scrapbook.

When they do reach out, Luz shows up at Blight Manor with three others in tow: Eda and Lilith Clawthorne and Camila Noceda. They are three different kinds of pissed and the Blights have the good sense to just be good hosts and invite them in with little fanfare or argument. They all settle in with cups of tea and I think Lilith goes first; she tells them about how she’s had the opportunity to watch Amity grow up, even more so after she abandoned the Emperor’s coven. Over time she still acted as something of a mentor, but also as a parental figure when she or the twins needed her to be. She was honored to officiate Emira and Viney’s wedding. She’s grateful to be part of their lives because she’s been a witness to their incredible achievements. She really digs the knife in deeper when she tells them that Emira and Viney are considering having kids but Emira’s been especially hesitant due to fears that she’ll somehow end up like her parents.

Eda goes next, not even having touched her tea, just sitting with her legs and arms crossed and glaring at them in the most severe way. She tells them about the various sleepovers she’s hosted over the years. How at least half of those sleepovers found Eda talking outside with at least one Blight child if not all of them in the middle of the night.

She tells them she got herself a scroll for the first time ever because she knew those kids needed an adult figure that wouldn’t reprimand them for existing. They needed an adult figure to go to for comfort and guidance, someone that could reassure them that their best is more than enough. They don’t need to work themselves into the ground for a scrap of approval or force themselves into the rigid mold their parents made for them.

She tells them she’s seen more tears from the Blight kids than she’s ever seen from any other kind of creature. Not even Luz cried as often as they did, and she’s a giant softy (Luz lets out an indignant “hey!” At that and pouts). She tells them that she, Edalyn Clawthorne, the Boiling Isles Most Wanted, has provided more warmth and comfort for their kids in the time she’s known them than they [the Blight Parents] had in their lives.

Eda hasn’t had magic for years. But everyone knew how powerful she once was. They had all gone to school together too, of course they remember her and the trouble she caused. She lets them know that if she even had an ounce of the magic she once had, she would use it to decimate the Blight parents in every way possible for causing so much harm to three bright, talented, loving children that have grown into some of the most powerful witches the Boiling Isles has to offer. She also lets them know that before they even consider being part of those kids’ lives again, they have a lot of shit to work on and sort out. Because if they don’t? It doesn’t matter whether or not Eda has magic. She will decimate them.

Finally Camila sets her empty tea cup down and levels them with the most venomous stare she can. She’s the only one of Luz’s guests that’s actually also a biological mother. If she could, she’d probably go Super Saiyan with the sheer power she’s exuding with this stare. The Blights actually flinch which causes Lilith to have to hide a chuckle (she’s been on the receiving end of that rage before and she’s excited to see it unleashed on them).

She just starts tearing into them like her life depends on it. She doesn’t hold back in the slightest. She admonishes them for holding their social status at a higher priority than the safety and happiness of their own children. Her criticisms and curses are all laid out with razor precision. The longer she goes on, the more the Blights shrink in on themselves. Alador definitely starts crying at one point but refuses to wipe his tears away because he knows there’ll just be more anyway. The Clawthornes are shocked at seeing him cry, throughout their time at Hexside and while Lilith worked with the Blights in the Emperor’s coven, they’d never seen Alador express an emotion beyond irritation. Odalia also has tears in her eyes but she refuses to let them fall. Her face is bright red in shame though, it just grows steadily more red as Camila goes on. (Luz idly notes that that must be where Amity and the twins get their blushing genes from. She also notes that Odalia looks remarkably like Amity and wonders if that’s what Amity will look like when they’re that age. Her heart flutters a little at the concept of being with Amity for the rest of their lives, but she tampers down the runaway thoughts to refocus on her mom’s tirade).

By the time Camila’s done with them, Alador and Odalia are hiding their faces in shame. Alador’s trying to stifle his crying to the best of his ability cuz his breaths are turning ragged from how much emotion he’s experiencing. Odalia is desperately trying to wipe her tears away without ruining her makeup, but she’s also quietly sniffling and hiccuping. Camila sits back with a satisfied huff and Luz pats her shoulder (as a thank you? As a good job? As a ‘tag me in it’s my turn’? Who can say).

After letting the Blights collect themselves, Luz clears her throat to get their attention. She struggles for a moment to figure out the best way to say it, but ends up setting her jaw firmly and just blurting it out: she asks for their blessing for her to marry Amity.

After a moment of shocked silence, Luz’s courage starts to crumble a little and she begins to explain herself; she knows that Amity doesn’t value their opinion. She hasn’t for years now. Luz also doesn’t value their opinion. But if she’s going to such lengths to try and give one of the loves of her life her parents back? She may as well start off with a show of respect.

Odalia is the one that gets up from where she’s sitting and quietly approaches Luz. Eda and Lilith are about ready to throw hands if need be and Camilia starts to put her arm in front of Luz, but Luz stands up to meet her. Odalia gently takes Luz’s hands (she also notes that her hands are just as tiny and soft as Amity’s) and brings both of their hands up to about chest level. She has to clear her voice before she speaks; her throat became tight with the tears and hiccuping she was trying to hold back.

Odalia takes one hand to draw a large circle around their joined hands before clasping Luz’s hands again. She tells Luz that she absolutely has their blessing, and vows to do whatever she needs to to atone for the cruelty she put her children through. And so the Everlasting Oath is sealed.

Alador also stands up and does the same in a tear-strained voice. After his oath has been sealed, he places his hands on Luz’s shoulders and thanks her for being so damn stubborn.

They promise that they’ll be in touch with Luz again soon, but they need to talk to one another first and really sort everything out. Luz gives them a small smile and confirms that she’ll be waiting to hear from them as the Clawthornes/Nocedas stand up to leave. Before they leave, Odalia gently places a hand on Camila’s shoulder and asks her quietly if she could maybe come to her for advice on how to approach their children when they’ve figured themselves out. Camila stares at her for a moment before giving her a smile and nodding. She doesn’t have a scroll or anything, so she tells her to just reach out to Luz when they’re ready to talk. Odalia just nods and the Blights watch as their guests leave.

I think it particularly strikes Alador how casually Eda ruffles Luz’s hair and pulls her in for a side hug, loudly telling her how proud she is of her for pulling such a bold move. It dawns on him that he used to do that to Edric when he was still smaller than his own knee. It may have been after the first spell Edric ever successfully cast. Odalia sees Camila scoop Luz into her arms and plant a giant kiss to a her head, probably also praising Luz. They watch as Luz puts her arms around Eda and Camila’s shoulders as they leave the Blight estate and Alador closes the door before he starts crying again.

I think that’s the first time in years the Alador and Odalia really hug each other properly. Not to pose for a picture, not just a quick greeting as they pass each other in the halls of the Emperor’s coven, but like. For comfort. I don’t think they really realized how big and cold and empty their manor is until that moment.

I think it takes several months for them to get their acts together. They seek out a family counselor, they have weekly tea with Camila, they dust off the parenting books that have been untouched on the shelves in their library for decades. They look into Viney’s family and find out that she and Emira have started their own service beast program. The general air of grief and undertone of determination is interrupted by a moment of sheer pride at knowing their eldest daughter not only found someone she loves, but has taken the risk of starting her own business with her wife that’s a genuine service to the Boiling Isles. They make a few duplicates of the newspaper article they found announcing the grand opening of the first Service Beast Training Center and Shelter on the Boiling Isles and have it framed in different places; there’s one on the desk in their study, there’s another on their wall in their bedroom; they each have their own copy at their desks at work.

No joke, it’s taken Luz months to convince Emira and Viney that Em’s parents are trying to change. Emira has absolutely 0 faith in her parents being able to turn over a new leaf. It’s not until they hear Camila say that she’s surprised at the Blight’s improvement after their last tea meeting that they even consider that they actually are trying to change.

Luz coordinates a day and time for them to all meet once Emira and Viney agree to do so. I think they meet at a park somewhere, maybe a particularly nice public garden (maybe it’s Willow’s). Emira’s never seen her parents look so nervous before and that already sparks some hope in her heart that all of Luz’s efforts might not be naught. I think Odalia tries to reach out to hug Emira but like, actually flinches when Emira steps back. So instead they sit at one of the secluded garden tables and just talk.

Alador and Odalia apologize in as much depth as they can. Emira just sits and lets them say everything they want to say. Once they’re done with everything they can think of, they just sit in silence for a minute while Emira processes everything they’ve said. It’s not until Viney squeezes her hand that Emira finally starts crying. She wants to be angry, she is angry, but her entire heart feels like a full-grown griffon just stood up from where it was sitting and flew away. Her heart feels so much lighter. She stands up and moves to her parents and they stand and embrace her tightly for a while. Viney also feels like a huge weight has been lifted just watching the exchange. Maybe she also cries a little bit because she’s so happy to see her wife so happy. (And she maybe ignores the sound of a high five happening in the distance; she’s like, 90% sure Luz is there with someone else spying on them to make sure the meeting goes well).

All the Blights have full-on waterworks going on because they each individually realize this is the first time they’ve expressed their love for each other in probably more than a decade. Long before Emira and Edric took Amity and left. Viney maybe also hears a muffled sniffle and when she turns around to see, yup, there’s Luz, and she’s definitely crying into Willow’s shoulder. Viney rolls her eyes. Luz is such a sap. That’s probably why they all love her so much. She brings out the sap in all of them too.

After the Blights finally calm down, Alador and Odalia have an entire separate list of things to apologize to Viney for, which takes her off guard. She maybe expected an apology for the last time she saw them in person, but they went waaaay deeper than just that. And then they don’t stop at the apologies? They start thanking her for all sorts of stuff. Like loving Emira and being there for her when they weren’t. For helping her grow into the incredible person she’s become. They also congratulate them on their Service Beast Shelter and ask if maybe eventually they’d be allowed to visit and see them in their element. That’s when Viney’s face finally splits into a wide grin and she joins the big family hug they’ve got going on.

Lmao so yeah, long story short, it takes them a long-ass time, but eventually the Blights learn to love Viney 💖💖💖

#prinxly inquiries #wam-hope #the owl house #vinera #vinira #Alador Blight #Odalia Blight #Emira Blight #toh viney #Luz Noceda #camilia noceda #camila noceda #edalyn clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #spoiler alert: all blights are big babies #long post #should i come up with a headcanon tag???#probably if you guys keep sending me asks lmao

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spaceskam · 4 years ago

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Title Tuesday + 16 + Malex

okay, so apologies in advance, I don’t know if you read this series, but this is apart of my On Earth series, but this can, for the most part, be read on it’s own

tags: light angst, panic attack, mentions of Jesse Manes, mentions of the shed scene

16. Bitter [ao3]

Alex felt like he was trapped in an alternate universe.

He’d had food with Michael before and definitely had eyed the Antarian section at the grocery store, but he’d never eaten it before. Not only was he eating it, though, he was sitting at the table with another Antarian family‒the Evans. They weren’t staring at him, he didn’t think, but it sure as hell felt like it.

“Hey,” Alex whispered, leaning into Michael as inconspicuously as possible. He hummed and leaned into him as well to show he was listening all while using what looked like a rectangle palette knife to shovel an amount of what looked like tiny rice covered in some weirdly thick, beige-colored sauce into his mouth. “What is this stuff?”

“It’s called cluivaxo,” Michael said, accent perfect. Alex had been living in the Guerin home for a week and a half so far and he’d already learned more about Antarians than he had just by dating one. He didn’t even realize what he didn’t know. Michael’s parents spoke in Antarian half the time, usually when they were speaking to themselves or only each other, and Michael apparently was fluent even though Alex had never heard him speak it before. “It’s kinda like a grain, think like a mix between quinoa and rice tasting but a little more bitter. The sauce is, um, kinda like a water base with mashed iocua and ziocua. I can’t think of an Earth counterpart, honestly. It’s good, try it.”

Alex nodded, racking his brain trying to pinpoint what the hell those even were. He had taken an agriculture class, but they didn’t really touch much on Antarian produce. And that was just assuming it was fucking produce at all.

Hesitantly, Alex took the palette knife-looking thing and got a bit of the cluivaxo onto it before raising it to his mouth. All of them were staring this time, waiting for his reaction. It was bitter, but the sauce was weirdly spicy and sweet at the same time which just juxtaposed all of it in a really weird way. It wasn’t bad, but he’d never had anything like it before and he couldn’t help but make a face.

“Oh, come on,” Michael laughed, “It’s not that bad.”

“It’s a traditional meal,” Louise said. She was Isobel and Max’s mother and she was extremely serious around him in a way that made Alex nervous. Michael’s dad was definitely a force to be reckoned with, but he had made it clear he didn’t hate Alex. She hadn’t quite done that yet and she didn’t even try to whenever she was checking the way Michael’s hand was healing. “The iocua and ziocua were homegrown by a woman a few blocks away. Her mother was on the crash and was the reason we had the means to continue planting them. She’s the reason we’re able to still have these meals.”

“It’s good,” Alex said quickly, “Just different.”

“Mom, chill,” Isobel said.

“I’m chill,” Louise insisted. Alex avoided eye contact and Michael reached beneath the table for his hand.

Alex had never had a problem holding his own before. Admittedly, he was still shaken up by what his father had done. He was waiting for him to show up outside the Guerin residence, waiting for him to do something worse than he’d already done.

He shouldn’t be having a family dinner right now.

Alex ate and let the subject change, let Nora take over talking about whatever with Louise. Ezra and Mr. Evans had a pretty in depth conversation about some political thing that would affect Antarians that Alex was sure he heard of but couldn’t remember specifics. Max and Michael and Isobel spoke. Alex sat quietly.

And it was fine until Alex was addressed again.

“So, Alex,” Mr. Evans said, “Have you spoken to your father since the incident?”

Alex didn’t mean to drop his utensil, but he did. His heart thudded in his chest, gut-twisting and throat tightening. He didn’t want to talk about his father. He didn’t want to talk about the incident. Michael squeezed his hand tighter.

“Xorocua,” Ezra’s voice said, deep and threatening, “Not now.”

“It’s an honest question. Don’t you want to know? I mean, you’re housing a Manes, Ezra. Are you not waiting for the next shoe to drop?” Xorocua, apparently, asked. Alex’s throat seemed to tighten even more and it took a lot to take a breath. “And what if he is speaking to him? I doubt this would be the first time he had a little spy.”

“A spy?” Ezra shot back, “He’s a child.”

“He’s nearly 18, that’s hardly a child.”

“What are you missing about what happened that night?” Ezra said, “And you have no idea what happened before that. He may be named Manes, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve compassion.”

“Compassion is one thing, but shelter? Moving him in? And what happens when Jesse Manes accuses you of kidnapping? What happens when he reports you? Do you really think you’re going to get out of this one?”

“Dad!” Max said and, well, at least he tried.

“This is not the time,” Nora said, her hand going to her husband’s shoulder. Louise did the same to Xorocua, though it seemed to be for a different reason.

Michael didn’t seem to care about any of it as he scooted his chair back and stood up, tugging Alex with him. Attention snapped to them and Michael, beautiful and brave and strong Michael, ignored them. He wrapped his good arm around Alex’s waist and let him lean against him as he brought him outside.

Alex tried to catch his breath and held onto his shirt. Once they sat on the front steps of the porch, he went to clinging to his body. Michael’s good hand went to the back of his head and he held him close. Tears slipped from Alex’s eyes without his consent.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Michael whispered, gently scratching his scalp, “He’s just a dick.”

“I haven’t talked to him, I swear I haven’t talked to him,” Alex insisted, sniffling as he tried to calm down. When did it switch? When did Alex become the one who needed saving?

Well. He knew when. But fuck.

“I believe you,” Michael said.

“But he’s gonna try soon, I know he is. I swear I won’t let him down anything to you or your mom or dad. I-I’ll go home if I have to, but‒”

“No, you aren’t, Alex. You’re staying at my house, in my bed with the door open so my mom doesn’t think we’re doing anything scandalous,” Michael said, kissing the top of his head. Alex huffed a laugh, but it didn’t stay. None of the adults had come outside yet, but Alex couldn’t hear them either. The thought that they were talking about him made him a little nauseous.

He stayed against Michael’s shoulder until he could breathe easy again.

“I hate this,” he whispered. Michael paused his petting.

“Hate… what?”

“Hate that I can’t talk about my dad without freaking out. Hate that you’re hurt because of me, hate that I’m mooching off your parents. Hate that I’m constantly looking over my shoulder. Mr. Evans was right, we are just waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Alex said, sniffling. Michael sighed, again combing his fingers through his hair.

“It’ll be fine.”

Alex huffed a laugh, shaking his head. It wouldn’t be fine. It would never be fine.

“And you. You are just… totally fine,” Alex said, raising his head. Michael’s hand slowly slipped from his hair. “How are you so fine? I don’t fucking understand. Why aren’t you as freaked out as I am? You should be more freaked out, you’re the one who got hurt.”

Michael blinked slowly.

“You don’t think I’m freaking out?”

“You’ve been really fucking calm this entire time, yeah.”

“Alex, I can’t go five minutes without touching you or I start getting extremely paranoid. I look over my shoulder constantly. I triple check the locks on my windows. I’m not, like, fine,” Michael said. Alex’s face burned hot and his skin felt prickly all of the sudden, his eyes not meeting Michael’s. “You know me, I’m a wreck on a good day. But… you need me right now, so I can smile and cuddle you because that’s all I can do. And I can take you away when things get scary. You don’t have to be the strong one always.”

“But I should be in this situation,” Alex insisted. Michael shrugged.

“Not necessarily. But, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll be a baby sometimes and make you feed me or defend me from assholes more often,” Michael offered. Alex huffed a laugh, shaking his head.

His gaze went out to the empty streets, to the bright headlights. It was quiet, almost too quiet. They hadn’t seen a car drive by since they came outside. It was silent enough that Alex could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

“You’re my favorite person, Alex,” Michael whispered, “So let me take care of you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Nora and Ezra came outside a few seconds later. Alex and Michael both went to stand, but Ezra sat beside Alex and Nora sat beside Michael. The four of them just stared out to the street on the Evans’ porch steps.

“Alex, no matter what your father decides to do, we will handle it,” Nora said softly, “And Louise and Xoro apologize for being too harsh on you. They don’t know you and they’re just protective of Michael.”

“I understand,” Alex said easily. And he did. If the tables were turned, he probably would feel the same way. “But… I don’t expect you to be put out if my father comes after you.”

“What your father did was extremely wrong and Michael being Antarian doesn’t make it less so. If we need to take it to the police, we will,” Ezra said simply.

Alex swallowed, his eyes drifting down to Michael’s hand. It was still wrapped up to keep it together. Everyone at school thought it was run over. He still couldn’t feel his pinky and his ring finger. Mr. and Mrs. Evans said it was too early to tell if that was permanent or not.

It was wrong.

“But we didn’t report it then…”

“It doesn’t matter. Besides, you’re almost 18. If you start bringing up what he’s done to you over the years, it’ll be in his best interest to just let you stay with us,” Nora said. She reached over Michael to put her hand on his knee. Tears pricked his eyes all over again. Part of him hated himself for that. He was so weak. “We’ll keep you safe. That’s what adults are supposed to do.”

Alex clenched his jaw to keep his composure, blinking rapidly. Nora gave his knee a squeeze before she stood.

“Michael, come tell Isobel and Max goodbye and thank Mr. and Mrs. Evans for looking at your hand again,” she said. Michael gave a little whine.

“But they were being dicks.”

“Yes, well, adulthood also means knowing who your friends are even if you disagree on something,” Nora said, “Come.”

Michael groaned but stood up, going back inside. That left Alex with Ezra. He knew that just meant they were going to have a talk. Because Ezra was a big fan of talks. The more he did it, the less Alex minded. If he talked, it meant Alex understood every single thing he meant.

“I don’t want to say this in front of Michael or Nora, but I think we are both extremely aware of what your father is capable of,” he said, voice low. Alex took a shaky breath and nodded. “So the moment you notice anything, you tell me. I want to prevent anything from happening.”

Alex nodded easily.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Cua,” Ezra responded. Alex blinked and looked at him.

“Huh?”

“Cua. Instead of Sir, it’s Cua,” Ezra said, slowing it down a bit so Alex could internalize the accent and mouth shapes that went with it. He nodded.

“Yes, Cua.”

Ezra huffed a laugh and ruffled his hair.

By the time Alex and Michael ended up in the backseat on the way home, Alex was tired but more content than he’d been in awhile. They were looking out for him, they were welcoming him.

That was nice.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #verse: on earth #title tuesday

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imagine-loki · 4 years ago

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The Bitch With Daggers

TITLE: The Bitch of Daggers CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Three AUTHOR: i-would-kneel-for-loki ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine there being someone else like Loki in the Avengers and them meeting, that could never go wrong, could it? RATING: NOTES/WARNINGS: none

“I think you should go for it.” Oliver stated. I had just got back to them and informed them about Fury’s offer. “I mean, yeah we’d stop fighting together, but you have a chance to do something greater. Go for it.”

“I have to agree with him on this.” Origen said. Laying on the couch staring at the ceiling, I just sighed, confused as to what I should do. I know they’re only being supportive, but still wasn’t 100% sure about it. “We’ll always have your back. If you go in then decide you want out, we’re here, forever.” He walked over and sat down on the chair facing me. “You’ve already given so much away”, his tone turned soft, “do something that benefits you.”

“But what we do benefits me!” I argued. “The fact that we kill those who are a threat to fragile and vulnerable people benefits me.”

“It pleases you.” Oliver corrected with a look. He came, sat by my feet and looked down at his hands in his lap, then looked up at me. “Maybe it’s time one of us does good with the law’s protection. You know? The kind of good that would be recognised and acknowledged.”

They had a point. For almost three years, we’ve been eliminating monsters who feed on people’s weaknesses and fears. We’ve done it behind the government’s back, we had to fake our deaths in order to never be suspected and captured. Had many close calls, some failed missions, lots of blood on our hands. This group, this team, my family, was all I had for three years, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to let go of what kept me sane.

The sun began rising, pink etched into the sky with splatters of purple, the need to decide was overwhelming. So with a glass of whiskey in hand and a phone in another, I rang Fury, “You’ll be pleased to know that I’m accepting the offer. But keep in mind that I’m doing this for Flora.”

“It doesn’t matter to me why as long as you’re in.” He stated. “Be at the compound in an hour, see you then.” With that, he hung up. The guys were still asleep and I didn’t have the heart to wake them up and tell them that I’ve agreed, so I grabbed my packed bags and wrote them a note before leaving.

The ride was short, but emotionally difficult. Upon my arrival I was questioned, until Nick came and approved my entrance. Whilst walking along the corridor, he began, “The team is waiting to meet you. Though I have to be honest, they’re not exactly… ecstatic to meet you.”

“Wouldn’t blame them”, I sighed, “Did you tell about any of my past works?” I smirked, fully aware that he hasn’t.

“You know me, I’d rather leave that honour to you.” He laughed. “Oh and”, he stopped and turned to me, “You’re gonna need a superhero name.”

“A what now?” I laughed. “Come on you’ve gotta be kidding me. Really?” I said in disbelief, “A superhero name?”

He resumed his walk with a laugh, me hot on his tail, “Well everyone on the team has one, so you gotta choose.”

“God that’s fucking dumb.” I muttered under my breath and shook my head. We took a right and into view came a room with glass doors, inside it were the avengers, sitting around a table. Well, most of them were sitting around the table.

Fury opened the door for me then got in, closing it behind him. “Avengers,” he began loudly, “This is Océane, the new recruit.”

Everyone turned to me with blank stares, I just smiled. Then one of them came over and put his hand out, “Nice to meet you kid, name’s Clint Barton, or Hawkeye.” I shook his hand with a smile of my own. The room held all the avengers – Tony, Steve, Bucky, Sam, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Thor, Scott, Wanda, Vision, Rhodey and Peter Parker.

“Nice to meet you Clint, heard you’re the best archer there is out there.” He inclined his head to the side with a laugh.

“Well I wouldn’t say so. Director told us you have some experience in that arena.”

“Well”, I began with a laugh, “Nothing compared to your skills I’m sure.” Everyone came forward and introduced themselves, not that I didn’t already know who they were. The last one was a new face; someone I didn’t recognise although seeming familiar. “And which hero are you?” I directed my words to him. His eyes green eyes were a stark contrast to his pale skin and black hair. I had seen him before but couldn’t place a name on him.

“Well I am no hero to begin with.” He said with a smirk and a glint of mischief in his eyes, “I am simply here as an act of redemption for my past faults.”

“Act of redemption…?” I trailed off, brows furrowed and concentrating on who this might be, when it clicked. “Ah, you must be Loki, the God of mischief and lies.”

“So you’ve heard of me.” He was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Yes, I have,” I chuckled, “Well I must say it is lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise, lady Océane.” He flashed a dazzling smile and walked over to where he previously stood.

“How old are you kid?” Tony began the interrogation.

“I’m twenty-three.”

“Do you have any siblings?” Steve carried on with the questioning.

“A sister.” I answered curtly. “She’s five.”

“So how long you been on the loose?” Rhodey asked, making me chuckle.

“About three years now, I had to run ever since SHIELD decided to intrude.” I said with a small smile. “You know that they took my sister from me when my parents passed away and they knew of my powers, right?”

“Oh.” Rhodey trailed off quietly, “No”, he said looking at Fury along with everyone else, “No we didn’t know.”

I turned my face to him, “It’s cool, I’ve grown accustomed to it.” I looked behind him to notice Loki had a hard a face, glaring at the Director. Steve had his arms crossed, also glaring. Tony had a pitiful look on his face, Bruce seemed sad, Thor appeared conflicted, unsure on how to feel. “Anyway that’s why I’m here,” I continued in hopes of killing the sudden tension. “Fury said if I join, I get to have custody over her again.”

“How’d your parents pass away?” Wondered Bucky.

“Car accident, a drunk asshole hit ‘em.”

“Alright,” Fury clapped his hand on my back, “Now that you’re all familiar with each other, I’m leaving.” Then turned to me and said, “There are others that aren’t here.”

“Like whom?” I frowned.

“There’s Doctor Strange, but he permanently resides in the New York sanctum and King T’Challa – the Black Panther – stays in Wakanda.” I nodded in understanding, and with that he left.

I turned back to the team, “So who’s gonna show me where I’m staying?”

“I will.” Loki volunteered.

“No you won’t.” Natasha cut him off while looking at me with an amused smile. He clenched his jaw at that.

“You can accompany us.” I suggested, making him smirk and nod, following us out. They led me to another part of the building and took me to the 6th floor, we were on the 4th.

“Did the Director say anything about when you would see your sister?” The handsome God asked. His cheek bones could cut diamond in half and I was finding myself getting lost in his enchanting, sparkling eyes.

“No he hasn’t.”

The Russian assassin guided me down a hallway and gestured to a door on the left. “This is your room.” It was quite a vast room, a queen-sized bed in the middle, a walk-in wardrobe, shelves on the wall for me to stack my books up and a connected bathroom. “You’re free to decorate it whenever and however you feel like it.”

“Alright then, thank you.” I sent her a smile and she left me and Loki alone. Walked over to the window and looked down at the busy street. The spacious room was empty, it felt lonely. “I hope it’s soon, I long to see her.” I said looking back at him, “If she remembers me, that is.” I muttered quietly.

“I’m sure she will.” He tried to reassure me. “If not, you will simply make memories with her, get her used to you.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” I said with a half-smile. He smiled back and patted my back, but I leaned into him, hugging him. He seemed shocked however didn’t give him enough time to react before pulling back with a small smile.

#Loki #God of Mischief #Others #Imagine #Submitted fic #submission #i-would-kneel-for-loki #chapter 3 #the bitch of daggers

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makeste · 4 years ago

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some Saturday asks re: BnHA 289

he really cannot possibly put it off any further. all the pieces are in place, including Dabi, Endeavor, and Shouto, and not to mention Deku for whatever reason, and OF COURSE our best girl Hadou (which I’m honestly here for, jokes aside; the other two members of the Big Three each got a solo fight, but we never really got to see Hadou do her thing. JUSTICE FOR HADOU). and I mean, it was hard enough just getting the three bigshot Todorokis in the same place just this one time, and Horikoshi had to do a considerable amount of logistical handwaving (I’m sorry, was Gigantomachia traveling at 100km per hour or 400km) in order to make it happen. so I kinda feel like if it isn’t Touya Time now, it never will be.

the Hawks thing is weird though, I agree! but maybe he just threw that scene in there in order to tease this reveal (just in case anyone out there somehow still hadn’t managed to put two and two together yet; we take it for granted being active in the fandom, but maybe casual readers needed that extra nudge to start thinking about Dabi’s origins and start saying to themselves, “hey wait a sec”). or he could have perhaps been laying some groundwork for a potential conflict between Hawks and the HPSC. Dabi did know Hawks’s true identity, which is still a mystery that needs solving, so I think that the story of his fall to the dark side could possibly somehow tie in with that. but we shall see!

friendly reminder that it was FEARLESS LIDA who let the “Christ” slip out, not our good boy Iida. Iida would never take the lord’s name in vain like that. he would be beside himself if that happened. FORGIVE ME FATHER FOR I HAVE SINNED.

considering he got a cliffhanger two-page spread highlighting the dramatic moment of him being injured, and then almost immediately passed out afterwards and was coughing up blood, I’d say it’s pretty bad. torso-stabbings seem to be the one big injury that BnHA characters can’t just shrug off (see: All Might, Best Jeanist, Nighteye, and now Gran Torino). Endeavor only got stabbed in the shoulder/collarbone area, and his wound seemed a lot smaller and more shallow. and Gran waking up was quite frankly some bullshit lol, and I’m pretty sure it only happened because he’s going to die at the end of this arc (they’re just dragging it out like with Nighteye so that he can say his goodbyes afterward), and so Horikoshi wanted to give him that little moment of seeing Nana’s quirk live on in Deku.

so it’s possible that Kacchan might wake up briefly as well, but unlike with Gran, I can’t see any narrative reason for it. he had his big moment and did the thing he was supposed to do in this arc, and it’s not strictly necessary for him to be awake to witness the Todoroki reveal, since I’m fairly sure the entire world is going to see it as well (Skeptic was working on something at Dabi’s behest back in chapter 288, and I’m gonna take a leap here and predict that Dabi is planning on hacking TV/news satellites to broadcast the big moment), and so he’ll hear all about it afterwards. plus with Iida and Hadou and Deku there already, not to mention the rest of the LoV, we’ve already got a sizeable cast here as it is, and we don’t really need anyone else stealing time away from the Todoroki family’s big moment.

so yeah, my guess is that Kacchan will remain out like a light for the rest of the arc. I really got the impression his injury is meant to hit that whumpy sweet spot of “as close to being mortally wounded as you can get while still somehow surviving with no permanent side effects whatsoever.” so if he woke up now that would kind of lessen the impact a little bit imo. it was supposed to be this big thing where he risked his own life to save Deku’s, so Horikoshi ought to at least pretend his injuries are life-threatening, y’know? even though we all know the truth lol.

#bnha 289 #dabi #hawks #todoroki touya #takami keigo #iida tenya #bakugou katsuki #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks #if kacchan *does* end up waking up though I would take that as a bad sign for endeavor #his odds of surviving tank considerably if his son and his interns are all there watching this fight go down #they're still pretty 50/50 even as it is #so it might be better for him if kacchan doesn't wake up and jinx it lol

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ri-ahhh · 4 years ago

Text

van life

I wasn’t gonna post this because it’s just like an overload of unrealistic softness but now that we know that they’re selling the van I think now is the best time if I’m gonna do it lol.

Also I’m sorry I can’t make this shorter on your dash by putting a ‘keep reading’ break. Tumblr is shitty and permanently fucked on my desktop where it just won’t load the page once I’m logged in so I have to do everything through mobile🙄

warnings: fluff, smut, kinda unedited

***

MJ sighs as warm morning sunlight kisses her skin through the passenger window of the tiny house van. She and Grayson had decided to have a beach day to themselves — the first one of summer — and she could’t be more excited. Nothing makes MJ Macias more content and at peace with her life than laying under the Pacific sun until her nose freckles and her skin takes on that healthy golden hue. Wrinkles are a risk she’s willing to take as long as she has a nice, long podcast, something to munch on, and, of course, a good view of her boyfriend in the surf.

That view of him rivals the one of the ocean in her opinion, which is just past his window as they cruise down the PCH on their way to Malibu. MJ wiggles her white-painted toes on the dashboard and smiles as she watches him sing along quietly (and off-key) to the Tame Impala song filling the cabin of the van. She loves his profile so much: the perfect slope of his nose; his full lips; the chunk of hair that swoops across his forehead.

She lifts their clasped hands from where they rest on her thigh with their fingers threaded together, and kisses the back of his wide palm.

“You’re so handsome, Bear,” MJ murmurs against his skin.

Grayson stops singing long enough to look over at her and smile brightly, his eyes hidden behind his black Louis Vuitton sunglasses. He pulls their hands towards himself so he can copy her kiss, only to her her own soft skin.

“My pretty Peach,” he returns with a squeeze to her palm, making MJ flush the color of her pet name. “Always so beautiful in the mornings.”

MJ hums and takes her turn returning their hands back to her lap, trailing her long nails up and down his muscular, veiny forearm. Apparently they’re equally as headass for each other today. “Just in the mornings?” she teases, tickling the sensitive patch of skin near the crook of his elbow.

She can’t see his eyes roll, but she imagines they do as his grin turns playful. “Of course not, but especially in the mornings. Your hair is in that cute braid and your skin is all silky soft and your eyes are extra green.” He takes his eyes off the road for a moment to appraise her looking exactly as he described. “And, you know, usually on the weekends you’d still be naked at this time. I like that part about mornings, too.”

“Oh, Lord,” she laughs with a shake of her head. “Grayson!”

She gasps his name and giggles harder as he completely catches her off guard by moving their hands right over his hardening cock. MJ squeezes him reflexively, and Grayson gives a little grunt as he shifts in his seat with a smirk.

“What?” he asks in mock defense, placing both hands back on the steering wheel. “I had to show you how much you affect me! I only have to think about you naked in our bed and it goes up.”

“That’s sweet,” MJ says, stroking his dick one more time before moving her hand further down his thigh, “but if you think I’m giving you road head in this car on this twisty road, you’re very mistaken.”

Grayson makes an obnoxious little whiny noise in defeat, pouting playfully and muttering dejectedly, “I knew we should have taken the Tesla.”

MJ raises an eyebrow. “Well, we wouldn’t have been able to bring your surfboard. Or be the first ones to christen the tiny house.”

“Oh, shit,” Gray says quietly, surprised. MJ smiles at the small victory of teasing him, her eyes diverting back to the beautiful scenery ahead of them as her mind wanders to all the things they can do in that makeshift bed.

“How about road hand, then, to start it off?”

She lets out a frustrated huff, his request interrupting her daydream. If there was ever a scenario where she didn't trust Grayson, it was one in which he was receiving any overt sexual pleasure whilst controlling a giant motor vehicle.

“Gray, I love you, but you’re pushing it.”

“Understood.”

***

It takes about half an hour for them to reach their destination, but MJ knows it was worth the drive as soon as they exit the car and she inhales the clean, salty air. They park at a little camping lot they had reserved a spot in for the day, the glittering ocean a mere few hundred feet away.

“Surf looks good,” MJ remarks, her hand shielding her eyes as she gazes out at the water. It always makes her a little nervous when Gray goes out in big swells, so the mild waves are a happy sight for her. “Nice and small; just how I like ‘em.”

Grayson looks out as well as he climbs on the roof of the van to retrieve the surfboard. “Funny, I happen to know for a fact you like ‘em long and wide,” he jokes. He just couldn’t help himself, apparently, his wide smile looking down at her from the top of the ladder a clear display of how proud of the stupid joke he is.

MJ watches the exposed muscles in his arms and shoulders ripple under his skin as he begins wrestling with the hooks and ties securing the board to the roof racks. The sight combined with his words and thoughts of what transpired earlier in the car makes her center pulse dangerously.

Needless to say, he’s successfully turned her on despite her best efforts.

“You’re insufferable, Dolan,” she says with a shake of her head. Her body feels heated from his innuendo and also the midmorning sun that is steadily raising the outside temperature. She pulls off the hoodie she had thrown on in the chilly early morning and steps into the back seat to haul out the cooler and beach bag.

“Yeah, but you love me,” his voice comes from right behind her. She turns around and yelps in surprise when she sees Grayson peeking his head upside down into the cab from the roof. He’s inches from her and is just dangling there like an overgrown monkey, which makes her fall back in the seat in a fit of giggles. He wags his brows at her playfully. “Ooh! Spider-Man kiss!”

MJ rolls her eyes good-naturedly and happily scoots over to clasp his cheeks in her hands, granting his wish by planting a sweet kiss to his lips. The scruff on his chin tickles her nose peculiarly, but she’s not mad at it. “Too much. I love you too much, you goof.”

Finally, with all their beach supplies in hand, they walk together towards the ocean. The private beach that they can access with their camp site is quiet and secluded. Best of all, it isn't clogged with tourists or people in general, which they both greatly prefer. Less people means they’re less likely to be bombarded by fangirls, or paparazzi, or any other unwanted distractions from what MJ hopes will be a perfect day.

As soon as the texture under her feet changes from firm concrete to sunken sand, MJ is stopping to remove her flip-flops so her toes can dig into the fine powder. This moment of first stepping on the beach is one of her favorite experiences, as minute and insignificant as it seems.

She looks up at Grayson, who glances back down at her questioningly. “Race ya,” she challenges suddenly, hauling ass to a perfect open spot on the wide expanse of beach. If there’s one thing she and her boyfriend have in common, it’s a highly competitive spirit.

“Cheater!” Grayson calls after her. He has the surfboard under one arm and the cooler slung over his shoulder, but everyone knows Grayson Dolan is the last person to turn down a competition. Which is why he does his best to catch up to her even with the obstacles in his arms holding him back.

The finish line is also only in MJ’s head, so she stops when she finds a spot she likes. She drops their bag and turns around with her arms raised like Rocky. Grayson isn’t very far behind her, being as in-shape as he is he’s reached her quickly, but he slows down earlier than he really needs to so he can take her in. Her breasts heave beneath a leopard print bikini top, loose hairs escape from her messy french braid, and her long legs glitter with the sand she had kicked up on her run.

She’s the most beautiful, dorky, amazing woman he’s ever seen and she is his.

MJ watches smugly as her boyfriend stalks over to her. “I wi—“

Grayson releases everything he’s carrying to the sand and grasps her face in both hands, pulling her in for a long, lingering kiss. MJ lets out a little squeak of surprise, but she melts into him half a second later. Nothing warms her soul more than his lips on hers, and she wraps her arms around his middle to bring them as close together as possible.

When he pulls back, Grayson stares at her with complete, obvious adoration. Ethan would have called him a simp if he were there, that’s how sappy his twin looks. Grayson can’t help himself, though; he is a simp for MJ, and, truthfully, he doesn’t give two shits who knows it as long as he makes her smile up at him like she is now, every day.

It’s why yesterday he had casually opened a new browser window, convincing himself he was just curiously window shopping on the ring section of Tiffany’s and the like… even after he got sucked into the customization tool on one website for nearly two hours.

Shaking his head and biting his lip through a grin, he traces the freckles on MJ’s cheek. “I want a rematch later.”

MJ squeezes him and smacks his ass playfully before releasing him and reaching into the bag for the big blanket. “You’re always such a sore loser,” she teases, unfolding the cloth and weighing it down with Grayson’s help. She digs through the bag again and hands him his wetsuit. “Go catch some waves. I have to catch up on this podcast by this really sexy guy and his twin brother.”

If there could be snapshots of the rest of the day, they would have been out of a picturesque rom-com. For a while, MJ rests on her tummy as she watches Grayson glide through the water, his deep voice simultaneously reverberating in her ears through her AirPods.

Eventually, when he’s done surfing — looking like a beach Adonis when he walks up the shore with the top half of his wetsuit folded down at his hips, surfboard under his arm and his wet abs glistening in the sun — he joins her on the blanket.

In the early afternoon MJ props herself up on her elbow, appraising his form with hungry, appreciative eyes as he tans on his back next to her. He has his hands pillowed behind his head, which causes his biceps to bulge and her thighs to clench. MJ is lost in him as she trails her finger over the features of his face — down his button nose, smoothing over his arched brows, across his rosy cheeks, against his pillowy lips. She smiles as he sighs contentedly and drops a peck to the tip of his nose before settling with her cheek on his chest. He smells like tanning oil and ocean and that clean, woody musk that MJ knows as him.

Later, they wade around in the sea between batches of sun bathing. At some points, he’s holding her waist-deep in the water with her legs wrapped around his middle and arms around his neck, lips connecting occasionally amidst easy conversation. Other times they have full-on water fights that have her squealing and him laughing as they splash each other back and forth.

It isn’t until the orange and pink hues of the sunset paint the sky that they’re brought back to the beach for good. Once they rinse off and have all of their things collected, they head back to the van.

MJ removes her bikini inside while Grayson reattaches the surfboard to the roof. She slips on her sweatshirt and a fresh pair of soft shorts just in time for him to carefully crack open the back door to make sure she’s decent.

Grayson smiles widely as he crawls in on the already made bed where she sits and is piling her damp hair into a messy bun. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, giving her a lingering kiss while her hands are still mid-twist in her long hair.

A pleasant warmth swoops through her belly at his compliment; it had taken her a while to get accustomed to not only how often Grayson rains sweet praises like that down on her, but how sincerely he means them, too.

She hums into his mouth right before he pulls away. “I left your shorts there, baby,” she says, gesturing behind her with her head. Gray thanks her and she starts to dig through the cooler as he tugs his swimsuit down his inked legs, following them back up with the clean shorts.

They eat dinner with the back doors wide open, a perfect view of the sun setting below the ocean’s horizon right in front of them. A pleasant breeze floats around them in the van, cool and refreshing from being picked up right off the water. MJ nuzzles her cheek on Grayson’s bare shoulder, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head as she chews her last bite of tofu.

“Thank you for such a perfect day,” MJ says a minute later, gazing up at him while he takes a sip of La Croix. “Seriously, I can’t remember the last time I felt so…carefree. Loved. In love. Not that you don’t make me feel those things every day, but… y’know. Today was just great.”

Her hand reaches to caress his stubbly cheek, a soft smile at the corner of her full lips. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Gray.”

Grayson looks down at her silently, but his eyes say everything his lips don’t. He tucks his can and their empty tupperware back into the cooler, tossing the bag into one of the back seats behind them so it’s out of the way.

He cups her cheeks in both hands, wasting no more time in bringing their mouths together. MJ sighs and shifts so she’s that much closer to him, just as his tongue prods gently at her pliant lips to coax them open.

They make out like that, slow and deep, with the soundtrack of crashing waves wafting through the open doors. Gray lies her down and supports the back of her head with his forearm, his free hand swooping up and down her side before settling in the dramatic dip of her waist as he pulls away just barely.

Eyes closed, their breaths come heavy and mingle sweetly in the minute space between them. Grayson suddenly lets out a little incredulous huff, shaking his head and diving back in blindly to suck softly on her bottom lip. MJ lets out a little moan and digs her nails gently down his bare back, her eyes fluttering open.

“What?” she asks with a little smile of her own, nuzzling her nose against his in an Eskimo kiss.

Grayson’s hazel orbs meet her green ones, and the hand resting on her waist comes to cup her face once again so he can stroke the new freckles that litter her high cheekbone.

“I’m gonna marry you,” he answers, chuckling at her shocked little gasp. He hurries to clarify himself. “One day, when we’re ready. You’re my world, MJ. Maybe it’s selfish, or self aggrandizing, but hearing you say that makes it so obvious to me that you’re the only person I’d ever want to spend the rest of my life with. Because I feel the same about you. I only ever want to make you feel that way; nothing makes me happier.”

MJ is stunned into silence. Grayson isn’t exactly the most eloquent person, so somehow she reasons that his perfect delivery of such meaningful words means they’re truly heartfelt. Not that she would have doubted him either way, but their relationship has suddenly shifted even deeper in the matter of one day. One simple, amazing day.

She feels the prickle of tears behind her eyes, and bites her lip through a watery smile as she raises her hand to run her fingers through the back of his hair. No matter how happy she is, her instinct for dealing with any emotions is to deflect with humor. “Can’t wait ’til I pop out a few of your babies. From the sounds of it, you’ll be worshipping the ground I walk on.”

That hits him right in the baby fever, his dick hardening even more behind his shorts at the thought of her belly swollen with his child. Joking or not, she’s absolutely right.

“Fuck,” he whispers, grinning as he ducks his head to nibble her favorite spot just behind her jaw and right under her ear. “How many of my babies? Hm?”

“Mmm,” she sighs, scratching lightly at his scalp, considering the question seriously. “Four little Dolan babies, I think. Three boys and a little girl.”

“Yeah,” Grayson agrees easily, making his way across her jaw with soft little suckles. “But make that three girls and a little boy, and you've got a deal.”

MJ giggles and grabs his face so they’re staring each other in the eye again. “No actual baby-making until there’s a ring on this finger.” She wiggles the digits of her left hand, which Grayson grabs and kisses the back of with a smirk. If only she knew just how close that moment might be. “But we can always practice in the meantime.”

Grayson nods and hitches her leg up his hip as he ducks down for a surprisingly chaste kiss considering her invitation a second before. As much as he wants her, he has a need deep in his chest just to be close to her for the moment. To feel her hold him and nuzzle into the warm crook of his neck, sucking gently on that freckle there to make his head swim like after a nice glass of wine.

MJ is just as happy with that arrangement, and she lets her body be still and her breaths tickle the sensitive skin at his collarbone. The ocean breeze billowing through the open doors of the van is cool and salty and comforting.

“It’s crazy,” Grayson whispers after a few peaceful minutes, his fingers starting to trail up and down her covered back slowly. MJ pulls back a little so she can see his face. He isn't looking at her, but rather out the open van doors at the last moments of the sun setting behind the water. “I remember feeling exactly this way the first day we met, only now it’s…more. You felt right then, so right it was scary. And here we are. How did I know that you were my person as soon as you let me walk you back to that tent?”

MJ smiles and her belly swoops. She thinks back to that night, how scared she had been and how instantly — well, as he said — right Grayson had felt the minute they crossed paths.

“I did kind of seduce you,” she chuckles, lifting her head to nibble at the underside of his chin and reveling in the sensation of his deep chuckle vibrating against her lips. “Maybe you’re just under my Black Widow spell. Have I never let it slip I’m only after your money?”

Grayson laughs louder, squeezing her to his body tighter. “Nope. But that’s the MJ I remember falling head over heels for in a matter of hours. Smart and witty and sweet and so fucking pretty with her green eyes and bright smile.”

MJ stares up at him with stars in those emerald eyes he adores so much. He is unreal to both see and hear; his skin has turned olive and his hair has the crisp of the ocean still in it, and the fact that he can still pinpoint the little things he liked about her from so long ago…

“Do you love me?” she asks quietly. It’s so ridiculously unnecessary to ask, he tells her multiple times a day, every day.

“So much, Peach,” he murmurs back predictably, finally swooping down to capture her lips like she wanted earlier, tongues meshing instantly.

He tastes so familiar and sweet. She wants to devour him slowly, intimately, like she has a thousand times before.

“Close the doors?” MJ gasps after the simple swipe of his thumb over her nipple through her sweatshirt makes her thighs tremble and her hips grind onto his half-hard erection. Something about the heartwarming intimacy of the day has translated to her body being physically sensitive beyond belief.

Grayson nods and sits up, reaching for the switch of the fairy lights MJ had hung up a few weeks ago before slamming the doors shut on the nighttime scenery.

While he does as she asked, she scoots up to rest her head on a pillow and watches his bare, chiseled torso glow in the dim, sensual lights. Right as he turns around he catches her struggling to free herself from her hoodie.

“Let me do it, Peach. I wanna do it,” he breathes, dipping down to kiss her soundly before tugging upward on the hem of the soft fabric. MJ drops her head to the pillow to break the seal of their lips, lifting her arms up so he can pull the garment over her head.

Grayson flings it to the front of the van and brings their mouths together so quickly, like he simply can’t be away from her lips for longer than a second. His hands reach up and cup the pliable mounds of her breasts, which are several shades lighter than the rest of her chest. Clearly, he could care less, and MJ sighs softly as he massages them firmly, his calloused palms creating delicious friction on her hypersensitive nipples.

“Still the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, too,” he smirks, making his way across her jaw. MJ smiles too, eyes closed in bliss as he kisses the familiar trail down her sternum. Predictably, his warm lips suction around the bud of her left breast, and she lets her mind wander through the pleasure to flash back on the first time he did this.

“We’re still kind of in a tent, too, y’know,” she gasps as he switches sides, letting out her first moan of the night when he scrapes his teeth against her. “Just…more bougie.”

Grayson hums, quickly getting lost in the feel of how soft her tits are and how much he loves the sensation of her hard nipples under his tongue. He drops his hips down so he can grind his full erection against her hot center, eliciting wanton gasps from both of them.

MJ groans again, the feminine sound literal music to his ears and the perfect reinforcement to keep going. She hooks her legs around his waist to hold his hips against her, thrusting up against him as he continues to bite and lick and suckle her breasts.

“Holy shit, Gray, right there… I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers, grasping at his hair to hold him down where he was sucking perfectly on her breast, and continues to grind roughly on his dick. Sure enough, a few seconds later she’s shuddering with the most intense orgasm she’s ever had without manual stimulation. Even from Grayson.

Grayson himself can hardly believe it; they have a great sex life, but he can’t remember the last time he had gotten her off just through some intense dry humping.

He isn’t going to question it, though, because it only means one thing: she’s as voracious for him tonight as he is for her. He growls when she starts to come down and surprises her with his mouth planting roughly back on hers. MJ kisses him back lazily as her mind clears some, smiling and fluttering her eyes open to meet his dark gaze when she feels his middle finger replace his tongue in her mouth. She closes her swollen, pouty lips around the digit and sucks, holding onto his hand and maintaining complete eye contact with him when he moans softly. She pulls his hand out of her mouth and pushes it into her shorts.

“Fuck,” he rasps, collecting her slippery cum against his finger, swirling it against his thumb before trailing his middle finger up to her clit. He soaks in her expression as her eyes roll back at the first contact, his favorite reaction she has to his touch. “Fuck, MJ. So fucking wet for me.”

MJ nods quickly, opening her eyes again to watch him watch her. “Lemme taste,” she whimpers.

She pulls his hand back up and doesn’t wait for permission or leave him time to process her demand as she sucks the slick moisture straight off his finger, the taste of herself gracing her tongue causing her pussy to gush even more. When his brain finally catches up, he’s immediately ripping his hand away from her with a harsh groan and hooking it around the back of her neck to kiss her deeply. His tongue plunders her mouth as he searches for traces of that sweet, earthy tang he knows oh-so well. MJ’s hands distractedly push at the waistband of his shorts, desperate for the feel of his dick in her hands.

“Please, baby,” she whines against his lips when they break for air, using the moment of clarity to tug more determinedly at his shorts. “Need you.”

“Need me where?” he teases, backing up so she can’t reach him as he pulls her own shorts down her long, newly tanned legs. Once he flings the scrap of fabric to join her sweater, he ducks down and swipes his tongue quickly over each of her nipples. “Here?”

MJ groans and shakes her head, her brain not operating at enough capacity to tease back, it’s so clouded with desire for him. “Gray…”

Grayson smirks and grabs one of her hands that are coasting down his back and attempting to pull him down against her. He cups her petite palm against his pulsing erection, sighing a little when her fingers wrap around him through his shorts instinctively. He drops his hand and brings it to her pussy, his fingertips dancing delicately against her swollen lower lips. His head swims at how wet she is and how the solid feel of him seems to have brought her mind back to earth, because as soon as he lets go of her hand she delves past his waistband to grip him directly.

“My dick, baby, you need my dick?” he asks softly, his voice a little high and his breath pitchy as she strokes him steadily now.

MJ moans and her pussy throbs simply at his words. She nods hastily. “Need it in me,” she manages, meeting his heated gaze as she gives him a firm squeeze. “Love your dick.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, his touch leaving her as he helps her in getting him completely naked, kicking his shorts off when they reach his ankles.

He takes a moment to gather himself and to slow down, trying to get himself back in that intimate headspace they were so deep in earlier, so that this doesn’t turn into just a hot, hard fuck. They love that, and it’s kind of their bread and butter in the bedroom. But he wants to hold her close and savor her body, to pass that loving energy between them in the most special, physical way.

MJ’s chest heaves as she watches Grayson hover above her, staring at her, and she parts her legs to welcome him back into her space. He looks like a fucking Greek god in the low light, his hair curly from the saltwater and sweat, his skin golden and his muscles bulging. She can’t possibly want him any more than in that moment.

“C’mere,” she whispers, reaching her arms out and making grabby hands at him. She can’t allow another second to go by without the sensation of his smooth skin against hers.

Grayson smiles sweetly at her, eyes sultry as he lowers himself at her request and presses their bodies together from chests to centers. She cups his cheeks and scratches her fingers against his scruff as they kiss slowly, deeply, desire building intensely once again as they grind together at the middle.

“Please, Grayson,” she finally says again.

All thoughts of any more teasing are out the door as Grayson obliges her. He dips his fingers in her pussy, testing her readiness and using her sweet juices to coat his dick.

MJ spreads her legs up and out, bent at the knees, and she throws her head back with a gasp as he enters her in a short thrust; a little more on the second, until he bottoms out with the third.

“Fuck me,” she whimpers, her hands pushing on the firm globes of his ass.

Grayson obeys with a groan, drawing his hips in and out steadily. “Wanna fuck you slow,” he says in her ear, thrusting all the way in and all the way out. The warm clutch of her perfect pussy is so intense at that tempo that he shudders and his eyes roll back. “Slow and deep, Peach.”

“Yes,” MJ agrees, her breaths coming in fast despite the maintained speed of his dick. He’s working her up so good, and she leans forward to bite into the junction of his neck and shoulder out of habit to keep her sounds muffled.

“Yes, baby,” she squeals quietly when her minute adjustment shifts the angle just right for him to hit her spot over and over. Her nails claw at his back, scraping over the work of art that is both his rippling muscles and the picture of the lions inked into them. “Oh my God, keep fucking me like that.. like that…”

The air confined in the van is warm and thick. Sweat drips from the ends of his hair, his hot breaths fan over her forehead, and his chain dangles enticingly across her face as he stares down at her all blissed out beneath him. Nothing turns him on more than her words of encouragement, which are usually muted due to the fact that his omnipresent twin brother lives across the hall. But now that they’re alone, in nature — just like the night they met — all filters are off. It makes him even more determined to get her to cum so hard she forgets any of those sweet praises she’s mumbling other than his name.

It’s already so, so good, but as soon as he gets on his knees just enough to gain more leverage to thrust even harder into her, that knot in MJ’s stomach starts growing in a fantastically unfamiliar way. Her eyes roll back and Grayson reaches a huge hand up to support her head against his shoulder, sensing how perfect the angle is for her and wanting to help her maintain it. She’s getting tighter and wetter around him, so much so that he has to grit his teeth and hiss to avoid having to pull out and stop.

“MJ,” he moans into her ear, tugging on her lobe with his teeth, an unspoken warning that he’s close. He’ll hold on as long as he can, but he absolutely needs to get her there first.

In the back of her mind, she comprehends his cue. But she’s so focused on reaching the bursting point of that expanding ball behind her belly, she can’t help but selfishly draw every ounce of pleasure she can from him. She thinks she knows what’s going to happen, and it will be a first-time experience for both of them.

It’s only going to take a few more deep, hard thrusts, and she’ll be there. Almost there…

“Gray!” she squeaks, squeezing a hand between their bodies to push against his abs, just in time for him to pull out and her to gush all over him and the blankets serving as makeshift sheets beneath them. It’s an indescribable release that washes over her, her own loud, shaky squeals of pleasure distant noises in the back of her head. She can only see colors behind her closed eyelids, greens and blues and lavenders sparkling in her mind’s eye like a mystical fog.

Grayson can’t believe what he’s seeing. His shocked and aroused groan sounds obnoxiously loud and foreign in his own ears; the fact that he doesn’t bust his nut right there on the blanket next to hers is a miracle. Instinctively, he reaches his fingers down to help her through it by rubbing her clit, huffing out an incredulous laugh when her thighs clamp instantly around his hand and a little more of her juices come out, soaking his hand. His name tumbles repeatedly out of her lips, just like he was aiming for and unwittingly exceeding his own expectations.

He’s painfully hard as he leans over her again, kissing her through her mindless whimpers as she starts to slowly come-to, her damp thighs opening once again and allowing him to slip between them. Right where he belongs.

“MJ?” he whispers, stroking her brow softly and watching her face intently. “You okay?”

Eyes still closed and breasts heaving, MJ takes a second to respond, but she moans quietly and nods, puckering her lips in invitation for him to meet with his. He obliges, indulging her for a moment until he can’t wait anymore. “Where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside,” she breathes at once, reaching down to grasp him and bring him to her dripping pussy. Grayson flinches at her sudden grip on him and the overwhelming wetness against the sensitive head of his dick. “Come on, Bear. Want you to cum hard inside me.”

With a groan, he slides back inside her, and a few hard, sloppy thrusts later, he’s shooting deep in her pussy. He’s never cum so hard in his life, and he whines into her mouth with the timing of his spurts. She hums contentedly, obsessed with that feeling of warmth that comes with, well, his cum.

“So good,” he murmurs when he’s finally done, pulling out of her slowly. He grabs a spare towel and cleans up the liquid white that follows him dripping from her center. “That was incredible, MJ. You’re incredible.”

MJ shakes her head in agreement, clapping a hand to her forehead and giggling softly, her knees bent and swaying side to side. “I thought we had done everything to try to get that to happen. Turns out we just had to go back to the beginning.”

Grayson lies down next to her, turning her head with a gentle hand on her cheek so he can press their lips together. “I love you,” he says simply. “My pretty Peach.”

MJ grabs a blanket and tosses it over the both of them, brushing her nose against his once they’re cuddled together. “And I love my Gray Bear. Mine.”

“Yours,” he whispers in affirmation, tucking her head into the crook of his neck until they’re both lulled to sleep in their cozy little bougie tent.

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #grayson dolan smut #dolan twins fic #grayson dolan fic #grayson mj #grayson dolan oc

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

For the mermay fills: 10 & 22 with indruck? 👁️👁️ (nsfw or sfw)

I went with ten (tattoos/piercings) first, since 22 will be part of another fill. I went with NSFW, and wrote this as a follow-up to my “Heat” fill from last year.

Indrid swims up and down the hall outside the palace infirmary. He’s far from the only one doing so; the reef serpent wreaked havoc through the city before the Chosen mers defeated it. He’s not even the only person waiting to see if Duck is alright.

“Have courage, Prince Indrid Cold!” Minerva, sporting a new gash on her face, clamps her hand down on his shoulder in what he knows is her version of a comforting gesture, “Duck Newton is the strongest Chosen after myself. He will pull through.” The blue of her tentacles flashes with pride.

“Besides” Ned, the castle mer who has, against all odds, become Indrid’s closest advisor, flicks his orange and silver tail “you informed us yourself there were no futures where our friend passed away.”

“I know.” Indrid takes a breath, intending to explain the tangled net of anxiety in his chest. All that comes out is another, “I know.”

Behind him, he hears two nurses murmuring that they’d better bump the prince’s consort up in the line, but before he can turn and order them not to, they’re gone.

It happened like this: Duck kept his word, began courting Indrid properly once the seer's heat passed, and Indrid reciprocated without hesitation. This caused a near scandal; yes, Duck was a Chosen and thus noble to a degree, but Indrid was a prince, and a prized one. Indrid pointed out that he rather liked someone who cared about his welfare, not just his happiness, and if they had an issue with that, that was their problem not his. And so the comments about Duck moved from to his face to behind his back, which he counted as good enough.

Duck found the whole consort business stressful, given that he’d forgone his Chosen destiny in favor of tending the kelp forests specifically to avoid that kind of fanfare and politics. Thus, they steered clear of the castle when they could, spending their time with their friends in town or in the sunken ship Duck called home.

When the serpent attacked their town, Duck discovered the limits of his rejecting his destiny, and joined the fight to save his home. Indrid is proud of him, even if his stomach churns whenever the futures shift and he has to see whether the strings of fate weave a grimmer outcome for the man he loves.

It’s well after moonrise when he’s allowed to see Duck. The other mer is half-asleep in his infirmary bed, a massive bandage on his side and one of his tentacles bitten down to a nub

“Hey darlin” The sleepy drawl is accompanied by the mer opening his arms.

Indrid carefully settles against the non-bandaged side of him, rests his head on his chest with a relieved sigh, “I’m so glad you’re alright. Or, well, mostly alright. You’re in one piece. Sort of. I, I’m not conveying this well.”

“I ain’t dead, given how today went I’m callin that a win. Besides, this’ll grow back in no time.” He wiggles the stub of his tentacle.

“Mmm” Indrid cuddles closer, purring softly as intact tentacles pet his tail and back.

“When’d you last sleep?” Duck murmurs, kissing the top of his head.

“Not since the attack started.”

“Seems to me we’re both due for some shut eye.”

Indrid nods, right before falling asleep and dreaming of strong tentacles and stronger arms.

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

“Guess I gotta get a tattoo now.” Duck studies the scar on his side, his bandages having permanently come off this morning.

“I suppose so. Though, if you’ve avoided so many other parts of Chosen protocol, I fail to see how skipping this one will make things worse.”

“I dunno, I kinda like this one. Used to strike me as macho bullshit, showin off how many battle scars you got. But now...makes me think of how when the forest gets trashed by a storm, or a huge-ass monster tearin through it, there’s a certain kind of pleasure that comes from watchin it heal, watchin it go from desolated and scarred to somethin beautiful.”

Indrid loves when he talks like this, smiles dreamily as Duck adds, “you could even design it for me. I’d like that.”

“I could do you one better; I could apply it as well. And since I foresee you asking yes, I do have the training to do so. Royal mers learn to tattoo themselves, due to rules about being touched by lower ranking mers that I judiciously ignored.”

“No kiddin” Duck grins, two tentacles coiling around Indrid’s tail, teasing the red stripe, “now that I’m healed up, gonna do all kinds of things to you to remind you why you ignored those rules in the first place.”

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

“Are you nervous?” Indrid finishes setting out his tools on the pristine table in his pristine chambers. He tends towards messiness in his habits, but when it comes to Duck’s health he’s cleaned the whole place by hand and with magic. Twice.

“Nah, I know I’m in good hands.” Even as he says this, a burst of anxious yellow moves up his tentacles.

“All the same, if you need a break at any point, let me know. And if the scar starts stinging or throbbing, tell me at once.”

“You got it, darlin.”

Indrid takes his time using a spell to transfer his design to Duck’s skin, double checking the placement before picking up the charm-powered tattoo gun. When finished, the tattoo will be a small forest of kelp, with the scar making up most of the body of the serpent swimming between the leaves. Six shades of green ink, three shades of brown, one shade of copper, and black for outlining, lay on the table, Indrid dipping into each of them in turn as he brings the image to life.

“Love watchin you draw” Duck sighs, then shudders, “sorry, gettin a hell of an adrenaline rush from the pain.”

“Just try to stay still. If you twitch or fidget too much, it will cause mistakes on my end.”

“Do my best.”

“If you don’t, I’ll just have to tie you down.” Indrid says breezily. The tentacle near him pulses purple. Desire. Interesting.

He’s most of the way through when Duck’s arms shake, his tentacles following suit, occasionally bumping Indrid’s tail or sides.. They’re small movements, all things considered, but in most futures they mean he has to re-do the entire last third of the tattoo.

“Nono, this won’t do at all.” He set’s the gun down, flitting across to the closet near his bed. A sea-grass rope waits, right where he left. There hasn’t been much call for it, Duck capable of restraining Indrid in a variety of ways all on his own.

“Now” Indrid bites off several lengths of rope, “since you cannot be still, I am going to tie your tentacles down. You’re to keep your hands where I put them, or I will tie them as well.”

Ducks tentacles are now deep, unflinching purple, “Holy fuck, ‘drid.”

“Just because I am generally submissive around you does not mean I’m not capable of giving orders.” Indrid smirks, tying the first two tentacles down.

“I, I know, it’s just you, uh, you, you never talk like this.” Duck’s eyes are wide, excited even, as they track Indrid’s circular path.

“I suppose you don’t hear me during advisory meetings, so this is a new experience for you.”

“Maybe I oughta start sittin in on ‘em.” Duck whines when Indrid kisses his cheek but refuses to stick around long enough for Duck to kiss him back.

“Perhaps. Right now, however, you are to sit still until I’m done with you. Understood?”

“Uh huh.” Duck smiles, docile and sweet, and Indrid wonders why they never thought to try this before.

He returns to his work, inking colors into Duck’s skin, enjoying the intimacy of learning the familiar curves of his ribs and belly in new ways. At one point he notices Duck tensing and almost moving his hand, but the other mer catches it in time.

“Good boy.” Indrid purrs.

“Fuck.” Duck tips his head back, “how much longer?”

“About ten minutes more, I’d say. You can manage it my sweet, you’re doing so well already.”

Duck whimpers low in his throat as Indrid goes back to his work. Exactly ten minutes later, he puts a protective covering atop the tattoo and pushes his supply table aside.

“There, all done. You did wonderfully.”

“Great, now untie me.” Duck wriggles hopefully.

Indrid raises an eyebrow, “In a hurry, sweet one?”

“Yes” Duck holds out a hand, trying to coax him closer.

“Whatever for?” He replies airly, as if can’t sense the arousal pouring off his boyfriend in waves, “and stop moving so much, you’ll aggravate the tattoo.”

“‘Drid please” The folds between his front-most tentacles ripple as his cock starts emerging.

“Oh I see.” Indrid swims so they’re face to face, pinning Duck’s hands to the back of the chair as he leans into his space, “you want me to fuck you, is that it? You’re willing to risk pain to new scar tissue, even marring my lovingly done work, just to have your cock played with?”

“Holyfuckinshit, why is this the first time you’re talkin like this?” Duck bites his lip with a little moan as Indrid rubs their cheeks together.

“I don’t know. In hindsight, it seems so obvious; you’re my powerful, competent mate, you always take such wonderful care of me, but you want someone to take away that power from time to time, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Duck tips his chin up, hoping for a kiss, but Indrid floats backwards out of reach,

“What shall we do about that, hmm?” He swims a slow, tight circle around the other mer, staying just out of arms reach, “shall I keep you bound until the urge passes? No, that’s far too cruel for my beloved. Perhaps I should make you see to it yourself? But no, you might accidentally hurt yourself. Hmmm, what to do, what to do….” He taps his chin as Duck growls and whines, tentacles now straining against their bonds. Indrid knows Duck could snap them easily if he needed or wanted to. Which means he wants to remain at Indrid’s mercy for the time being.

“You do look wonderful like this. I didn’t even plan it this way, but how I tied you shows off most of your assets.” Indrid rubs the upper front of his tail, “now you’re getting me all wound up.”

“Good” Duck growls, tentacles swirling purple and pink.

“Yes it, ahnnn, it is rather good, isn’t it. After all, I have the perfect solution to the situation sitting right in front of me.”

Duck’s cock is fully out, it and the slit beneath it tempting Indrid to abandon his plan. He swims in front of the other mer, eyeing his cock approvingly, “yes, you’ll do quite nicely.”

“Thank fuckOHfummmhp” Duck’s surprised moan turns to a laugh as Indrid, having zipped upwards in a flash, finishes shoving his cock into Duck’s mouth.”

“Yesss, ohyes, goodness I love doing this, you look so charming with your lips around my cock. Ah, ah, don’t you dare move your hands from the chair. This” he gives a sharper thrust, “is all I need to be satisfied.”

Duck moans louder, which Indrid takes as his cue to hold his head in place and fuck into his mouth with abandon.

“That’s it love, that’s it, oh I ought to have done this months ago, tied my big strong hero down and reminded him of hisAHAnnn, his duties as consort.”

“‘M ot a ero.”

Indrid looks imperiously down his nose at him, “It’s rude to contradict someone when they’re giving you what you want, my sweet. I guess I’ll need to render you further incapable of speech” He concentrates and extends his cock, a mechanism meant to ensure he can reproduce with mers of any size or genital configuration but that he uses only to make Duck groan with pleasure.

His orgasm is already racing towards him, as it always does when Duck lets him (or orders him to) fuck his throat, and he shuts his eyes, concentrating on tight heat and the happy, muffled grunts floating up to his ears.

“Just a little, nnnn, little more my sweet, let your prince ravish your throat a little longerOH, ohgods, Duck, sweetheart, yes.” He cums, a shudder rippling down his tail, and doesn’t pull out until Duck struggles to swallow the rest down. The other mer is still collecting his breath when Indrid wiggles down and pushes his tongue into his slit.

“Fuck!” Duck jerks hard enough to move the chair an inch to the right.

Indrid snickers, wraps both hands around Duck’s cock, stroking it hurriedly as he raises his head, “What do you say, beloved?”

“Th-thank you?” Duck cracks an eye open. Indrid nods, then dips his head back down to to suck and tongue at the senstive skin.

“Fuckme, ohfuck, ‘Drid, darlin’, this is fuckin incredible, gonna, gonna be such a good consort, do whatever you say, fuck you five fuckin times a day, just, FUCK, just promise we can do this again.”

“Muv ourse.” Indrid thrusts his tongue deeper, twisting his hands on his upstrokes. The fourth time he does, he pops up to suck on the head just in time to catch Duck’s cum in his mouth. He takes his time, sucking him clean with happy trills and moans while his boyfriend utters curses that would make sailors blush.

He pulls away to wipe his mouth, intending to start untying Duck. The futures show that won’t be necessary,

Snapsnapsnapsnap

The ropes break in pairs, rapid fire, and then Duck is on him, enveloping him in arms, tentacles, and love. He tries to press closer, then winces back, “owfuck, you’re right, the tattoo is real sore.”

“It’ll be that way for a few days. Your Chosen strength will help, but you should still rest when possible.”

“I dunno” Duck kisses him sweetly, then nips his lower lip, “you know how stubborn I can be. Might have to uh, tie me to the bed.”

“That, my love, can be arranged.”

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermay fills #mermay

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justatiredghost · 3 years ago

Text

Living for the Moment Ch21 A series of glimpses at Klaus’ life if he’d met Dave in his mid 20s. His life isn’t magically transformed, love can’t fix either of them when they’re both homeless and in a bad place. They’re not even really ready for a relationship yet. But maybe a supportive friendship can set them on a better path, the two of them inspiring each other to take care of themselves. It’s going to be a long and bumpy ride, and the question is, when will they actually admit to themselves that they have feelings for each other? Read More AO3

Klaus was pacing, too much energy and nothing to do with it, all too aware that he hadn’t had a hit in much too long. He wasn’t sure if the nausea or shakes were because of the withdrawal or panic, but it was only going to get worse, especially once the ghosts started showing up. He crossed his arms tightly, feeling like he was going to crawl out of his own skin. He never had been very good at waiting.

And this was the worst place he could think of to have to wait around in. He hated being back at the Academy. It brought up too many memories, making him feel like a kid again, useless and miserable. Then again, not much had changed there. He was proud of how useless he’d remained.

Even though he knew Grace had said no one else was home, he still kept glancing at doors, listening for telltale footsteps, anything to indicate Reginald was on his way. It had always seemed like Dad had a sixth sense dedicated just to knowing when to show up to make his life a living hell.

He should steal something from the old bastard. For old time’s sake.

When the door opened, it startled him out of his thoughts and he half expected Reginald to be standing there. He wasn’t sure if Grace, her usual smile replaced with a look of trepidation, was actually better. It felt like his stomach dropped, like he was falling, and whenever he hit the ground, it would probably be more painful than anything he’d ever experienced.

“Your friend is resting now,” she said, which, so far so good, Klaus supposed. “But we won’t know the extent of the damage until he wakes up. I just want you to understand, he lost a lot of blood.”

Klaus knew there was an unspoken, ‘if,’ there. ‘If he wakes up.’ And his mind was all too helpful in providing plenty of horrible outcomes, from permanent organ damage to a coma. What were they supposed to do then?

‘They.’

The realization that he really, truly, meant that hit him hard. He wouldn’t leave Dave to face this alone, whatever happened. It was stupid, this was exactly what he’d worked all his life to avoid. He was a useless fuckup and this could only end horribly for the both of them. And yet, for some reason, he still wanted to try. Whatever the cost to himself.

It was strange, remembering that only a few hours ago he hadn’t been able to decide if he should meet Dave or not. But this was different. He could live with, for once, putting aside his selfishness so Dave could live a happy life without him fucking it all up. But now? He wouldn’t abandon him like this.

“Why don’t you go see him?” Grace said, reminding him that they didn’t have all the information yet. He didn’t even know if Dave would survive the night. She put a comforting hand on Klaus’ shoulder and smiled encouragingly for whatever it was worth.

“Thanks, Mom.”

He felt shaky and detached as he made his way to the infirmary, like this was just a dream. Until he actually saw Dave, that is. Seeing his too-pale form lying there snapped him back to reality and the weight and terror of it all hit him hard. As he sat beside him, he couldn’t help but watch Dave carefully, counting every rise and fall of his chest as he breathed; proof he was alive.

He shivered as he sat there, feeling completely drained, emotionally and physically. He thought about raiding the liquor cabinet, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Dave’s side. There wasn’t anything he could do, now, but he’d come so close to losing him and right now, all he wanted was to be near him.

“Don’t you die on me,” Klaus said, even though he knew he couldn’t hear him. “Not now.”

The idea of losing Dave, after everything, made him want to laugh in a horrible sort of way that he was afraid might turn into something else. He didn’t want to even think about it. About how much he’d changed because of Dave, despite himself; about the glimpses of what his life could be, things he never thought possible, things he didn’t even believe in that suddenly felt like they could be true.

He was this whirlwind that had come into his life and shaken everything up, making him care about something other than himself for once. Making him want more than the oblivion he had spent his life searching for. It wasn’t fair. Dave was good, actually genuinely good, this couldn’t be how he ended up. Klaus deserved this kind of end, but not him.

He could feel exhaustion weighing on him after the day he’d had, but instead of giving in, he started pacing again. He didn’t know what else to do.

Klaus did fall asleep eventually. He’d slept poorly the previous night, so he’d been running on hardly any sleep even before everything happened, so he wasn’t all that surprised to find himself slumped over in an armchair near Dave’s bed. Grace’s heels clicking across the floor had likely been what roused him, and when he glanced over, he was met with the sight of Dave, awake and alive, and he was pretty sure it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Grace was in the process of taking his blood pressure, so it took a moment before Dave saw he was awake as well, so at least he’d managed to get his facial expressions under control by then. He wasn’t sure what Dave would have seen otherwise.

“Hey,” Dave said with a smile. He still looked pale and weak, and he didn’t seem strong enough to sit up, but it was just so good to hear his voice.

“I turn my back for a second,” Klaus joked, but something like guilt flashed across Dave’s face, although he wasn’t sure why.

“I’ll need to monitor you for a bit. Try to get some rest,” Grace said, reaching over to ruffle Klaus’ hair before leaving.

Klaus had never really felt awkward around Dave. He had no shame anymore, so he rarely felt awkward around anyone. But Dave especially, they just got along too well, he had always felt completely comfortable around him. Right now, though, he felt awkward, mostly because of the revelation of how far he’d go to help Dave, and what that meant. Maybe there was something wrong with him. So he did what he always did and avoided the topic. Besides, there were other things they needed to talk about first.

“So, are you going to tell me what happened, or what?” he asked, scooting his chair over so he could lean on the edge of the narrow bed.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Dave said, bringing a hand up to rub tiredly at his face.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure most people would consider getting stabbed a big deal, but you’re lucky I’m not most people,” Klaus joked, trying to get him to stop looking so upset. “I am pissed that a fight went down and I wasn’t even invited, though.”

“I guess I do owe you an explanation,” Dave sighed. “I just mouthed off to the wrong people, it was bound to happen eventually, I guess.”

“Mr Katz, are you telling me you actually picked a fight?” Klaus said with exaggerated shock, hand over heart. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but then, I never claimed to be smart,” Dave tried to shrug but seemed to think better of it.

“Come on, don’t be stingy with the details,” Klaus prompted.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much more information for you,” Dave admitted. “I don’t even know who they were.”

“Wow,” Klaus said, struggling to think of a time Dave had actually seemed genuinely angry. Especially with strangers, he was usually the type just to ignore assholes and move on. It occurred to him that tbe two other fights he’d gotten into had been because of Klaus. Maybe he was a bad influence on him. “What did they even do to push your buttons that much?

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Dave said, sarcasm tingeing his words. “But I’m not exactly what people think of when they imagine the ideal soldier. I mean, they’re not supposed to be gay, or critical of the military, and they certainly don’t relapse six times in the last month alone.”

“Oh,” was all Klaus could say, because he hadn’t known, how could he? He and Dave had hardly spent any time together. But Dave always did seem so strong and confident, Klaus couldn’t help but assume sobriety was going well for him. Obviously he had his own struggles and Klaus mentally kicked himself for not paying better attention.

“Yeah,” Dave said, staring up at the ceiling. “My uncle is more like what people expect, which, fair enough. I don’t think these assholes were associated with the VA, I think they just happened to be passing by, but who knows. They’re not exactly above prejudice.”

“So, they started spewing bullshit, and you snapped?” Klaus asked skeptically.

“Not exactly,” Dave said. “I wanted to just ignore them, but then they started hassling a kid I’d seen around the VA, and that was when I snapped. Security chases us all off before a fight could break out, but they must have followed me.”

“We have got to get you better at spotting a tail.”

“Yeah, probably,” Dave said with an exhausted chuckle. “I don’t think they meant for this to go so far. One of them pulled out a switchblade he’d clearly never used before, and as soon as they saw blood, they all freaked out and ran away.”

“Not even gonna be professionals about this,” Klaus said, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Well, hopefully they got it out of their system and won’t be doing any more stabbing for a while. Maybe we should—”

“I’m sorry, can we talk about this later?” Dave said, closing his eyes. “I’m really tired.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Klaus said, taken by surprise. It had just been so nice to hear Dave’s voice again, he had to remind himself of the trauma he’d just survived. He shouldn’t be pushing him like this.

“Thanks,” Dave said, eyes still closed. “For everything.”

“Whatever,” Klaus said, waving a hand dismissively as he got up and headed for the door. “You’ve already bailed me out of a few tight spots, so we’ll call it even.”

On the other side of the door, he had to take a moment just to breathe. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him. He wasn’t used to going through so many emotions in one night and he still felt shaky. Then again, maybe that was withdrawal. Good thing he still had a stash in his room.

While he was here, Klaus figured he might as well take advantage of the situation. He’d apparently slept through most of the day, and he spent the rest of it enjoying a ridiculously long bath. Then, he went to raid the kitchen. He had his head in the refrigerator with a drumstick in his mouth as he piled more food into his arms. But when he turned to spread his spoils out on the table, he heard the floorboards creak.

He froze guiltily, ready for his dad or Luther to storm in to tell him off, but after a moment, it became clear that no one was heading this way. And, whoever it was, they weren’t all that steady on their feet, walking slowly. Klaus abandoned the drumstick and went to peek around the corner to find Dave, back turned to him, making his way to the front door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Klaus said. “If you pull a stitch, Mom’s gonna be really disappointed in you, and no one wants that.”

Dave actually cursed under his breath at that, leaning heavily against the back of a chair. “You know,” he said, his voice artificially light. “I was trying to make this easier on the both of us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not continually forcing myself back into your life on purpose,” Dave said, turning to look at him. He looked utterly exhausted, barely keeping his feet under him. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at his curls in frustration. “I know you’d rather move on and you’ve already done a lot for me, you don't have to--”

“Whoa, no, no,” Klaus interrupted. “I tried to meet you. I mean, I was there, but then I got arrested.”

“Arrested?” Dave asked skeptically.

“Yeah! That’s why I found you, I’d only just gotten out and was hoping you’d stuck around. Very, very late, I know, but--”

“You don’t have to do this just to be nice.” Dave crossed his arms across his chest, looking more like he was holding himself, and Klaus didn’t think he’d ever looked so small.

“Hey, this is me, remember? When do I ever do anything just to be nice?” He walked over to Dave, placing a hand on his arm, just wanting him to know he was serious. Dave leaned into the touch, still not quite meeting his eyes as he took a deep shuddering breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I can lay it on pretty thick sometimes, and I think barging into your life like I did and punching that guy certainly counts. I was afraid of losing you, but I wasn’t thinking about what you wanted, and that isn’t fair of me.”

Klaus just stared at him for a moment, before he remembered he was supposed to say something. Usually, Klaus was the one being accused of being too much. No one had ever wanted him in their life like this, and no one had ever been so concerned with what he wanted.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” was all he could really think to say.

“And I have a stab wound,” Dave chuckled, but it sounded forced. “Promise you’re not just here because you feel like you have to be? I know I’ve been laying on sob story after sob story lately, I didn’t really want to get into all this, you shouldn’t have to worry about my crap. And I definitely don’t want you to feel like I’m twisting your arm”

“It’s cute you think you could possibly manipulate me, of all people,” Klaus said, patting his cheek. “I’m immune to sob stories.”

“That’s not—” Dave started, but trailed off, clearly frustrated and unsure how to get across what he was trying to say, so Klaus continued.

“Besides,” Klaus continued quickly. “I’m pretty sure you’ve been dealing with my crap for a while now, isn’t that what friends are supposed to do? That’s a genuine question, by the way, I have no idea.”

“I guess,” Dave said with an uncertain shrug.

“Well, don’t worry, this is completely selfish on my part. If I were a better person, I would have let you leave.”

“I’m selfish too because I’m glad you didn’t,” Dave admitted.

“I’m still not really sure how this is supposed to work, but—“ Klaus hesitated, so close to saying how completely he trusted Dave. Instead, he shifted direction. “Hey, maybe we deserve to be a little selfish.”

“If you’re willing to put up with the disaster I’ve made of my life, I think we can figure something out.”

“You’re a disaster? Have you met me?” Klaus said, gesturing to himself.

“I’ve just really been struggling,” Dave admitted, looking so completely hopeless and worn out. “I already told you about relapsing. Everything is just so hard and I’ve let it isolate me. I even let it pull me away from my best friend.” Here he gestured at Klaus, to his surprise. “I can’t live like this anymore. Something has to change.”

“What does that mean?” Klaus asked. “You’re not giving up, are you?”

“No,” Dave said with a heavy sigh. “I just have to figure it out, but right now I just feel helpless.”

Klaus didn't really know how he was supposed to reassure him when he didn’t even believe things were going to work out. He’d learned a long time ago not to hope for the best, so he couldn’t advise him, and he certainly couldn’t comfort him. At least he could help him back to bed before he started bleeding again. It was all he could do at this point.

“Come here,” Klaus said, reaching out to take Dave’s arm so he could help support him back to bed.

Apparently Dave misunderstood, though, because the next thing he knew, Klaus was being pulled into a hug. It took him completely by surprise and he froze up before remembering he was supposed to hug him back. Dave leaned into him slightly, a comfortable weight as Klaus helped support him and he hated how much he liked it. It felt safe and warm, completely surrounded by Dave, overwhelming all of his senses.

“Wait,” Dave said after a moment, and now he was the one freezing up. “You weren’t going in for a hug, were you?”

“No, I was going to help you back to bed, but this works too.”

“Wow,” Dave said, but he didn’t actually release him. “Well, this is awkward.”

“You’re such a dork,” Klaus chuckled. “Come on, give me your arm.”

“I think I’d rather sink into the floor,” Dave said, but he finally let him go, letting himself be led along, his face bright red. Klaus wasn’t sure if he was slouched, ducking his head slightly, from embarrassment or just the pain.

“You can do that later when you’ll actually be able to get back up again. You do that now and you’ll probably be stuck there.”

“That’s fine,” Dave said. “I think I’ll just live in a hole in the ground. Any chance you’d be willing to never mention this again?”

“Are you kidding? I’m gonna hold this over you every chance I get.”

It was so nice, getting back to their usual banter. He’d missed Dave, of course he had, but being with him was always so much better than he had remembered. He was just so much more fun, so much kinder and softer, more adventurous and so, so strong.

Klaus cleared his throat and forced himself to focus on something else. There he was, getting carried away again. He had no idea what to do with himself. Maybe there was no saving either of them in the end.

#klaus hargreeves #dave katz #klave #klaus x dave #umbrella academy #the umbrella academy #fanfic #living for the moment #my fic

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beatles-slash-fiction · 4 years ago

Text

OT5 Part 5...

*****

The next day the boys have the day off.

Brian still has insurance woes to deal with as well as a mountain of paperwork. He’s got schedules and press conferences to finalise, as well as contracts to re-read which contain so much legal jargon they make his head hurt.

So Brian stays at the hotel while the boys go out to explore the city, slowly working his way through his tasks for the day.

It’s mind-numbingly boring, and Brian’s thoughts keep drifting to his boys.

His beautiful boys, who will have to drag themselves to his room once again tonight for another attempt at the task he’s set them.

He wonders if he’s being too harsh. Simultaneous orgasms are hard enough to achieve for two people, let alone four. And the boys are really trying.

But there are lessons for them to learn, and they’re so close now. Brian knows they can do this. And he knows it will bring them closer together.

A day spent locked up in a hotel room alone means that Brian is very much looking forward to dinner with the boys, and by the time he’s packing away his papers he feels as though he could skip down to the hotel restaurant downstairs.

The boys are already waiting for him at the table when he arrives, and Brian can already feel the stress of the day melting away as he takes a seat.

“How was your day?” Paul asks with a smile.

“Dull,” Brian chuckles, immediately lighting a cigarette. “But it’s got a little better now that I can see your lovely faces. Tell me about your day.”

Ringo excitedly recounts the sights the four of them visited today, as well as a story about John stepping in an ankle-deep puddle outside the train station.

Brian is content to just listen to them tell him about their adventures of the day while they eat, but he can’t help but notice that George is being rather quiet. The youngest lad is always quieter than the others, but he seems a bit...off tonight.

He doesn’t even finish his dinner, which is very unlike George.

“He was sick this morning,” John says to Brian quietly when they’re strolling back up to their rooms.

Brian feels his stomach drop, and the panic must show on his face because John chuckles.

“Don’t worry, Eppy. That’s what I thought at first too. But we’re all careful and we got a test for him to take earlier. It’s not that.”

Brian lets out a sigh of relief. That’s one scenario he can’t deal with right now.

“I think he’s nervous,” John says with a shrug. “About tonight.”

Brian can’t help but worry now. He’s seen how much George has struggled with this task over the last few nights, and he wonders if maybe he’s pushed the boy to breaking point. Destroyed his confidence and self-esteem.

Brian would never forgive himself.

“I’ve been thinking, lads,” Brian says as they pause outside the door to his room. “Why don’t we have a night off from the punishment tonight? Three nights in a row is quite tiring.”

The boys look a little surprised, but all happily agree to a night off.

“You’ll be back here tomorrow though,” Brian says firmly. “I meant it when I said you’ll do this until you get it right. And I want you all to go straight to bed now. To sleep. No messing around.”

“Yes, Eppy,” the boys chorus before heading towards their rooms in a fit of giggles.

Brian gently grabs George by his wrist before he can disappear. “It’s our night together tonight. Did you still want to sleep with me? John says you’ve been a bit poorly, so it’s not a problem if you’d rather just go back to your room and have a cuddle with one of the other lads.”

George gives a tired smile. “No, I’ll sleep with you. I’d like to. Let me grab my stuff.”

Brian watches the younger man disappear, loosening his tie and wondering if he’s fucked things up permanently.

*****

George turns up already dressed in his pyjamas, and toes off the fluffy hotel slippers before heading straight for the bed.

“Teeth?” Brian asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Already brushed,” George yawns, settling under the covers.

Brian settles down next to him, trying not to think about how young George looks right now. Sometimes Brian forgets that George is only twenty-two.

“Did you have a nice day today?” Brian asks, stroking George’s hair.

“Mm. It was funny listening to John complain about having wet shoes all day.”

They both share a quiet chuckle. George nudges their feet together beneath the covers.

“How are you feeling?” Brian slips his fingers beneath George’s top to stroke his stomach. “Do you still have trouble with your tummy?”

“Nah, I’m feeling a lot better now. Thanks.” George meets Brian’s eyes. “The lads thought I might be-“

“Yes.” Brian laughs nervously. “So did I. But John told me you confirmed otherwise.” His voice turns more serious. “You know I’d take care of you though, if you were? I’d take care of everything.”

George smiles at him shyly, leaning forward for a kiss.

Brian can’t let himself get carried away. This is a job. That’s all. One day his boys won’t need him anymore. He can’t fool himself into thinking this could ever be anything more. He can’t let himself think about that.

George swallows, shifting closer to Brian to rest his head on the older man’s chest. “I don’t think we should do the task anymore. It’s not fair on the others.”

Brian doesn’t say anything. He can feel George’s heart pounding, and he knows how nervous the younger man must be to bring this up.

“I’m not trying to get out of my punishment,” George adds quickly. “I promise, Brian. I’m really not. I know we misbehaved the other day and we let you down. But I can’t do this task. The others have all done really well, and I’m dragging them down. So maybe you could just punish me separately on my own. Let the others off. They’ve basically done what you expect of them so they shouldn’t have to keep at it.”

Brian chuckles, stroking George’s cheek. “Actually, they haven’t done what I expect of them. Why on earth do you think you’re the one dragging the group down?”

George blinks, confused. “Because I can’t come when I’m supposed to.”

“And that’s your fault, is it?”

George still looks utterly confused.

“This is a group task, George. The others should be helping you to achieve orgasm when you need to. They should be paying attention to your needs.”

George bites his lip, as if he’s never considered this.

Brian has seen it hundreds of times in the studio and on stage. The boys still seem to see George as the baby of the group, the junior. Someone to be directed rather than listened to. It doesn’t exactly surprise him that that’s translated into this task.

“You’ll have to tell them what your needs are though,” Brian adds. “They’re not mind-readers. So tell me. What do you need from them to help you all achieve this task?”

And because Brian is in a particularly sentimental mood, he presses a kiss to George’s bare throat.

“I need them to stop bossing me around,” George sighs. “It doesn’t help when they’re putting pressure on me.”

“Good,” Brian encourages. “And is there anything they could do to help you?”

George immediately turns red. “Well...um. I always like it when they say nice stuff to me, y’know? Like when they give me compliments. And call me nice names.”

“Ah,” Brian says knowingly. “Lovely. Well why don’t you tell them that? And maybe your next attempt at this task won’t feel like a punishment.”

That shy smile returns, showing off George’s little vampire teeth.

“Get some rest, lovely lad.” Brian kisses George gently. “You’re gonna be my very good boy tomorrow night and give this another go, aren’t you?”

George nods, eyes shining. “Yes. I’m gonna try. Love you, Brian.”

Brian closes his eyes, his heart bubbling. He can’t let his feelings get in the way of his job. He can’t allow that to happen.

“I love you too, my darling.”

TO BE CONTINUED

#Beatles OT5

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