#you’re my dove anon now for no reason other than i feel a need to call you dove

[flokali]

♢ Worship | Zhongli

Warnings: AFAB! Reader, Non/con -> Dub/con, Mind break (MC), Yandere, Cult AU, isekai, past violence towards MC, patronizing behavior towards MC, penetration, fingering, delusional behavior/thoughts from Zhongli, cum is everywhere, unprotected sex, dumbification (MC) (kind of), dirty talk, use of the c^nt, manipulation of MC, repetition, cock-drunk MC, desperate Zhongli, degradation towards MC (slut, liar, whore), implied exhibitionism, implied s.ex between MC and other Archons, unrealistic sex. Ask to tag!

Roles: Top! Dom! Zhongli | Bottom ! Reader

A/N: Here it is... it's definitely something new for me;; It's absolutely not for everyone and I am begging you to read the warnings, if this is too much for you do not read it! It's 100% fictional and falls under Dead Dove / Dark Content: it is not meant for anyone under the age of 18. Anon, ILY and you're the best... my beloved ! Took me forever to get this out, but here it is... yipe >_<

Word Count: 5.2k !

— Minors do NOT interact —

You were shunned away and hurt by those who you had once loved.

Already weak and alone, it was as if they took joy in seeing you despair, as if the way you crumbled around them was entertaining.

It hurts, oh Heavens above, you were miserable.

It wasn’t just physical, it was emotional and mental as well – every single weakness you possessed was exploited until you became a shell of yourself, your mind and body governed by fear and hatred and a need to survive, because you needed to survive. Even if it meant being reborn anew, you couldn’t let them win.

You couldn’t bring yourself to forget, it was all too painful, too cruel, too unjustified; they drove you to your limits and pushed you further until you broke. Until the person looking at you in the mirror looked like you, spoke like you, thought like you, but didn’t feel like you.

It’s why you couldn’t forgive the man standing in front of you, because deep down you knew he would have killed you if given the chance back then. You knew he held no regrets, that he’d do it all again to the next person who committed the crime of being deemed unworthy.

“I cannot,” your voice was assertive, or at least as assertive as you could muster in front of a God, “I… refuse to forgive you.”

“Please be reasonable,” Zhongli begs of you as he approaches you slowly, like a hunter would its prey, even if he claimed to think himself bellow you - you knew he held more power than you “we had no idea – I had no idea… if we’d known earlier, I swear upon Liyue Harbor itself, things would’ve been different.”

“And yet, time runs forwards,” you reply, slowly walking further away from the approaching man, or at least attempting to, but it was no use as he quickly makes his way closer to you, long legs and fit frame having no qualms in cornering you, “I have no use for ‘what if's’ or ‘could be’s’ - what is done is done, we have nothing to talk about, now let me leave because this is getting ridiculous.”

“My god is so stubborn,” he chuckles, acting as if your words meant little to him, something that greatly confused you - he spoke highly of you and yet seemed to think lowly of your person -, “I am afraid I don’t yet know if that’s something I like or not,” he mumbles that last part to himself before addressing you once more, “alas, I cannot let you leave until we reach a suitable agreement, your grace, you’re clearly not thinking clearly if you don’t see the multiple benefits that having me as your servant shall bring; with me by your side, you may as well be unstoppable.”

You scoff, a sense of disdain flows through your veins as you glare at him; you were slowly growing agitated by him and his presence, “First, you claim I’m your God and now you speak of me as an equal, as if I needed you - as if you had a right to speak to me at all -, what is it, Zhongli?”

He says nothing, his eyes take you in, you both know you’re cornered with nowhere to run, with you now completely at his mercy. It reminded you of the times he’d hunt you down with the intent to kill, if you were honest you much preferred the way he looked down at you back then than the current look in his eyes as he judged you with his eyes, as if assessing how worthy you were of his time albeit claiming servitude and humbleness before you.

“How utterly foolish, how… cute.” He chuckles, now only a mere inches away from your face. You hadn’t even noticed the stones he’d raised from the ground caging and forcing you into his proximity.

His hands, cold as they were, find their way to your cheeks. You attempt to swat his hand away but he’s simply too fast, quickly gathering both of your limbs and forcing them against his chest; the position was uncomfortable as you were forced to look up at his larger frame and feel his toned chest, a strange feeling was brewing in your lower region you desperately tried to ignore.

“Of course, you’re my God,” he says, his words serious, he spoke with such conviction it made your skin crawl, “and I’m your humble servant, which is why I am begging you to reconsider your opinion on not only myself but my people as well.”

“Absolutely not.” You accentuate your words, even if they come out a bit muffled from the way he gripped your face, to make your point loud and clear.

“Very well then, you leave me no choice,” he smiles and it sends a shiver down your spine because nothing good has ever come from someone smiling at you like that, “if you won’t let me worship you, then I’ll have to do it by force.”

His lips crash into yours but he makes no move to withdraw his hand from your cheeks, instead he uses it to press deeper into you - as if attempting to consume you whole.

You have no idea how long he’d been kissing you for, all you know is that his lips were devouring your own and that his tongue was battling with yours for control over your own mouth. The hand that grasped your wrist guided your hand to caress the archon’s chest, over his hardening nipples and around his pecs. There’s short intervals between kisses, but he doesn’t properly pull away until you’re begging for him to let you take in oxygen.

“Ah…” Zhongli finally pulls away to breathe, you’re in shock as you look at him, pure anger running through your veins, a complete contrast to the blissful look in his face as a blush overtakes his godly features, “You taste… divine.”

Ridiculous, Zhongli was being completely and utterly ridiculous! Making a joke, and a poor one at that, at a moment like this where he was doing this to you was incredulous. You wanted to scream at him, forcefully make him understand that you didn’t want him nor his sick worship and yet your body easily made way for him to slot his lips against yours once more as he parted them with a squeeze of your cheeks.

“Mhm~” You can’t help the moan that escapes your lips as you feel his tongue enter your mouth once more, “Ah, hmgh… humgh!”

Your back is flat against the wall, the Lord of Geo’s body effectively caging you in, and you have no choice but to part your legs as he places his knee between your own. You can barely breathe properly as he attacks your mouth, as if he’s making sure to explore it until he could map it out, his groping hand that had now left your cheeks and teasing touches don’t help at all as you feel yourself grow dizzy with unwanted arousal, a feeling shimmering in your pussy that has you unconsciously bucking your hips into his strong and firm limbs.

“You look so much better like this, Your grace,” he says as he takes a breather, his eyes – eyes you once adored back when you were home – glowed with arousal as he looked you up and down, “so quiet and docile, so obedient, it makes me want to eat you whole.”

“Rex Lapis! How dare you – ah, ha~ah!” You’re about to scold him and speak up when you break into yet another moan, you almost go cross-eyed as you feel his knee tease your neglected crotch; the cloth of his robes create a texture that feels heavenly against your hardening clit.

“Hmm? What is it, your highness?” He asks, feigning innocence as if he wasn’t the man responsible for your aroused state, “If you wish me to stop, speak up now before I get too, ah, excited.”

Zhongli once again doesn’t give you time to respond before he’s attacking your neck with fluttering kisses, “Come on, if you want me to stop,” he mumbled hungrily, it’s almost brutish the way he handles your body forcing jolts of arousal and pleasure to spark through your body, “say so.”

He’s challenging you to speak up, it’s as if he’s daring you to tell him to stop. He knows, the sick bastard knows that somewhere deep inside you - you still adore and want him, that a sick part of you wants to forgive him and be loved by him.

“Mora-ah~ !” You moan as he sucks at a particularly sensitive spot in your neck, his hands teasingly run across your thighs, caressing the skin in a seductive manner that has you trying to close your legs. Your core is slotted near his knee, where he can teasingly bump it up against it to give you momentary sparks of pleasure.

You want to scream at him to quit toying with you but you can’t formulate the words, not with the soft whimpers and groans you were letting out. He gives you a particularly strong bump, one where your clit — which was growing more sensitive by the second — and his clothed knee come into direct contact. You let out a particularly high pitched moan at that, the feel of his muscle against your lower lips simply intoxicating, that has Zhongli responding with a grunt of his own, something that sounded like your name rumbling from deep inside his throat.

“Such a slut for me,” he manages to get out, he’d been too busy teasing your skin with his teeth to comment on anything for a while, “such a good whore…”

It felt demeaning to be talked down to like that, especially by someone who claimed to wish to become your humble servant, but his words had a primal part of you beaming with satisfaction at being called good. You’re so taken aback by your own reaction you don’t notice him tugging at your robes and undergarments, not until he’s freed your cunt - allowing it to come in contact with the air.

“There we go,” he praises you, finally detaching himself from your neck, which was now littered with bruises and hickies, “your grace, I am truly honored… to be the first of your followers to make love to you…”

There’s a sick, almost delusional, look on his face as he breaks into a soft grin as he palmed your cunt, thick fingers gathering the slick that slowly poured out of your cute hole as it desperately tried grasping at anything.

His hand parts your legs further so he gains better access to your cunt, before he takes his free hand to properly caress your nerves. Slow and sensual movements against your clit and slit have you desperately bucking your hips to meet his fingers, he never inserts a full digit up your gummy walls instead opting to slowly work the opening by stretching your entrance and fingering you only up until his dip joint. Your arousal soon is leaking down your thighs and hitting the floor, making a mess of cum and love juice that would’ve made even the Devil blush, even the amount that escaped your soaking hole surprised, was it normal to be aroused enough to leak into the floor, you wondered.

“You’re ready,” you break out of the hazy mist of lust that clouded your mind as soon as you hear the man speak, “hah… I’ll… I’ll stick it in now, your grace… I’ll make sure to fill you up.”

“What…?” You manage to pant out, but he doesn’t answer you - instead he opts to free his hardened cock from beneath his clothes, a thick and long monster that sends a shiver down your spine as you questioned how he even thought someone could take it without hours of prep beforehand, and directs it towards your soaking entrance, “Z-Zhongli… don’t, please… you’re too big and… I’m not, I’m not ready… please, don’t… I’ll forgive you if you stop, stop! Just please, no… stop, I… I’m sorry, I…”

He pays your begging no mind as he slots his tip inside of your hole, which is enough to have you desperately clawing at his arms; “Hah, your highness… we - we’re becoming one…”

The Lord of Geo decides to ignore you, opting instead to slowly sink himself further into your gummy walls, even with the previous preparation and the slick you’d released your cunt was gasping in pain as you felt his thick dick enter your poor, tight pussy; before you knew it you were practically spasming around his length, awkwardly jolting and jumping as his cock slowly made its way past your tight muscles. The pleasant burn and torturous slow pace has you gasping and rolling your eyes towards the back of your head; he’s not even completely inside of you and you feel so… full. You don’t even want to imagine what it’d be like to have all of him inside you.

“Hah~ Hah,” you hear him pant beside your ear, his hot breath making you shiver, “you’re… tight…”

Your face is heating up at his words, it doesn’t help he’s slowly pressing himself deeper into your hole nor that he is slowly grinding himself against your walls in an attempt to ease your tense body.

“You’re t-too big…” You miraculously manage to get his hands off of you, “Fuck, get off… please… g-hgkh! ”

You trail off, too focused on the pleasure at hand to finish your thoughts. You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to have his dick inside you and yet your body sucked him in so greedily. You’re shaking and panting by the time he finally bottoms out, his balls hitting the fat of your ass with a soft thud that made your walls momentarily tighten at the lewd and erotic sound, it was too much and yet you were beginning to grow fond of the feeling of his cock bulging against your stomach.

Zhongli lets you sit on his dick for a while, allowing you to get accustomed to the feeling of fullness, probably trying to get used to the feeling of your warm walls encasing his dick, you try to pull him off you one last time but he doesn’t even budge, he’s too big, in retaliation, he gives a smooth roll of his hips that has his cock rubbing against every nook and cranny inside of you, including your special, spongy spot that had you seeing stars.

“U-ugh…” You let out a gurgle, you don’t want to admit it but the way his dick felt inside you had you seeing Celestia.

It’s the realization that he had no intention of letting you go un-fucked, and the shame of feeling aroused, that has you finally releasing the death grip you’d had on his arms, a sense of defeat and humiliation settled in your stomach; to preserve any reminder of your dignity it’s best you just let him use your hole like a toy. You’d denounce him, obviously, once the act was done and you’d have him sentenced, hopefully, to death for defiling you - that’s truly the only comfort you have.

It seems he takes your now compliant state as a go ahead to start moving. It’s painful at first, you’re overly aware of how his cock is moving inside of you and the feeling of pleasure is almost completely overshadowed by hatred and humiliation, your companion, however, seemed to be enjoying himself. You’re certain this whole event would be uncomfortable and unpleasant, you doubt you’ll even finish, or at least, you did until a particular thrust hit a particularly sensitive nerve that sent an aggressive wave of pleasure coursing through your veins, it’s blinding, it quite literally took your breath away as your brain struggled to process the unexpected yet erogenous sensation.

“S-shit!” You gasp, your whole body twitching. For a second, all thoughts left your mind, only a primal need to feel good again taking over as the wave rocked through your body, infiltrating every nerve and muscle, coursing through your brain as you desperately tried to prolong the almost intoxicating sensation. You don’t even realize how tightly your cunt is clutching his dick until he lets out a condescending, deep laugh.

“D-did you feel good, your highness?” His breath hits your ear and you suddenly feel overstimulated from your recent release and the feeling of his burning skin encasing you.

His words bring you back to reality and you have to restrain yourself from biting a chunk of his skin, you’re still trying to come back from your high, a high you desperately wanted to deny; “A-as if, hah, a monster-r such as yourself could pleasure me… f-fuck!”

“Is that a challenge, your grace,” he asks, golden eyes narrowing in amusement, , “if so,” he adjust your position, suddenly your legs are no long touching the floor as he’s taken them into his arms, his hands hold your knees so you can’t fall nor escape his brutal thrusts, you’re at his mercy, “I won't back down.”

That’s the start to an agonizing pace, one where he’d give deep, sensual thrust into your pussy - he’d start of slow, making sure you felt every vein and bump that made up his cock -, and then pick up the pace momentarily with short yet precise, rapid thrusts that had you bouncing in his arms like a rag doll.

“Do you like it, my beloved?” He lets out as he desperately tries to coax a confession of pleasure out of your lips, keenly aware of the way your insides became harder to exit the more aroused you were, “If, ha-ah, if I pleasure you like this everyday, you surely will forgive me, r-right?”

You’re too preoccupied with the way Zhongli’s hardened length rubbed a particular spot inside your walls that had your legs tensing helplessly in his grasp to answer; you could feel a ball of uncomfortable pleasure build up in your lower region that had you panting the more it grew.

Your thoughts were slipping away as the man lowered his hand to toy with your hardened clit, you felt like you were about to cum from that ministration alone but you helplessly try to stop yourself; you’re certain that if you cum even once you’d completely lose yourself, it was already hard enough not to beg for him to stop teasing you and fuck you properly as it was, and you’re certain that the minute your slick coats his dick, you won’t be able to stop yourself from begging to be fucked like an animal in heat. But it was so hard, so terribly hard, especially when he began kissing and teasing the hickies he’d previously painted over your body, the added feeling of your clit being rubbed as your cunt was being pounded into in different rhythms had you bucking your hips to meet his own - even a second without his cock inside of you was becoming unbearable, you… you needed his dick, you needed to feel good.

You wanted to sob from the frustration of the never ceasing pleasure that was building inside you, you wanted to cum so bad you were growing desperate, not even realizing your hips had begun moving on their own in an attempt to hurry up your release. You don’t think you’ve ever been so sexually frustrated, continuously growing restless as your head began clouding from pleasure.

It’s as if he was reading your mind because as soon as the thought hits you, he moves near your ear to moan in a low voice; “Go ahead, my love, cum for me… just know that if you do, I’ll take it as an invitation to become yours… Come on, make this dick yours, I… ha-ah… I know you want to.”

Wasn’t that so lovely? Wasn’t that such a wonderful agreement; in exchange for your slick, you would have one of the greatest cocks in the continent as your own personal servant!

Because it was what you deserved right? After all those months of pain and hurt, you deserved to feel good and be loved like you always were meant to be loved.

Zhongli notices your apprehension and he doesn’t blame you, but he was going to make things right; he had to, no matter what, no matter how, no matter what it takes, he will make it up to you. Even if it meant lowering himself from the status of Archon, even if he had to apologize and beg.

“I’m so sorry,” he begins mumbling into your skin as his cock keeps abusing your hole, he knows it’s an underhanded method but he doesn’t care, he meant every word he said - even if his way of showing his feelings was wrong, “you didn’t deserve any of it, no… y-you should be worshiped, you’re – fuck! You’re my savior, you’re everything to me, everything… I love you, I love you, I-I’m y-yours,” your cunt unwillingly clenches at that, “I-I’m yours to do as you please… you’re so good to me, so good… Come on, cum on me, use my cock… Allow me to repent for my actions, you will - won’t you?”

As one of his hands continues to rub your clit, the other supports your body weight, he doesn’t even seem to break a sweat as he holds you and fucks himself silly inside your tightening cunt.

There’s something about his desperate tone, the way he whines into your skin in between kisses and sucking, that has you believing his words; maybe he was regretful, maybe he did see what he did wrong, he was clearly trying to make it up for you by having sex with you, right? This was okay, right? He was sincere, you both knew he held a deep hatred for his actions, he’d been begging to see you ever since he’d learn of your true identity, he’d sent you gifts and offerings in an attempt to swing your favor; Rex Lapis didn’t do that for anyone, Zhongli didn’t do that for anyone.

He kept going on and on about how sorry he was, how desperate he was to feel you cum on his cock, how badly he wanted to serve you, how much you meant to him, how everything he ever did was for you; he loved you, he needed you, he wanted to be with you, he needed to be with you. His voice was growing raspy and whiny, a completely new side to the normally composed and cool Zhongli you were used to.

His words begin to seep into your brain, his admissions of guilt, his declarations of love, the way he begged you to take him as your own.

“I-I feel your pussy tighten,” he mumbles, “you’re so… you feel so good, mhm… I’ll be yours, I’ll make it up to you, everything – Please, s-shit, let me be yours, I want to be yours, allow me to serve you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Zh-zhongli…”

“Your grace,” he moans and you can feel the way his body shudders as you whimper his name, “I’ll do anything for you, please - please, ha~ah?! Make me yours, let’s cum together, please, I want to cum inside you, I want you to come… If I make you cum, you’ll let me serve you, right? M-my lord, mine, mine… I’ll claim you as mine, my own god, only m-mine, mhm-mmph… I’ll make it up to you, you’ll be mine, you’ll love me, you’ll love me-ah, we’ll do this e-everyday a-and you’ll be mine, hah~”

You felt the last of yourself break as the words he whispered made your cunt squirt all over the Archon, the one who’d hunted you for sport, made your life a living hell, who’d offered his body and power as an apology; he now stood with his hips and pelvis covered in your cum.

“C-cumming! Ah, ah-hah… I’m cumming, ‘m cumming, shit! I’m cumming on your c-cock! Hah, hah… ah~ah, ghk-k!”!

Yet you couldn’t stop, your poor pussy kept leaking as you convulsed from the intensity. It didn’t help that Zhongli made a point of pressing himself as deeply as he could inside of your pussy, as if trying to penetrate your womb with the tip of cock.

It’s as if your body had been lit on fire, your body twitches and turns as you gush all over the floor, it’s an electrifying feeling as you give up control and succumb to pleasure.

Cock, you were cumming on Zhongli’s cock, on the man who wanted you dead only a few weeks ago, you were on his cock, his cock was inside you, your cum was coating his cock - the cock that was humping your pussy, the man who was groping you, the one who’s threatened to kill you. You could only think about his cock, the big, long, thick, fat cock that had you drooling over yourself. You didn’t know what was leaking out of your pussy, it kept coming and coming out, coating the Archon’s lower half with your love juices - your legs hurt as you tensed and twitched and your nipples and clit all felt painfully hard.

It takes you a few seconds to stop cumming and yet, even as you were held in his arms panting from the feeling, you weren’t tired – in fact, you don’t think you’d ever felt better.

It seemed the man balls deep inside of you was feeling the same way for it doesn’t even take him more than a minute to start bouncing your limp body on his cock once more.

“More… I want more, more, wanna… wanna cum again.” You’re too out of it to realize you were speaking your thoughts, too desperate and drunk on the feeling of sex and the pleasure it was bringing you to feel shame.

Even though your body felt heavy as lead, you weakly try to match the rhythm set by Zhongli with your hips, desperately searching for the pleasure he’d given you minutes before.

If you’d been looking at his face, you would have been able to see the look of surprise that washed over his handsome features; was this really you? Had it truly only taken you a good fuck to temper you out? His golden eyes seem to glow brighter as his excitement grows, his dick somehow hardening even more albeit still being inside of your warmth. He takes it as a sign to adjust your body one more time, taking you in his arms once more and allowing him to bounce you on his cock like a toy.

You’re too sex-brained to fully comprehend what was going on, only truly thinking with your cunt - desperate to feel the white ball of pleasure explode inside of you once more and to feel Zhongli coat your insides with his cum.

“Ha-ah, Zhongli,” you whine, your voice comes out airy and unsteady as your whole body bounces on his dick, “p-please… c-cum inside me! ‘Wanna feel your cum inside my pussy, pl- fuck! Ah, ah - feels good, your cock feels so good! ‘m gonna cum again, wanna cum with you… hah, hah, l-let’s cum together…!”

You can feel his breath hit your neck as he nuzzles into into your shoulder, an airy chuckle soon followed by teasing words;

“I-I, hmm… I thought you’d never f-feel pleasure from a monster such as myself,” his voice is raspy as if he were barely containing himself, “my grace is such a g-greedy liar…”

As if to prove his point he gives you a particularly rough thrust, one that has you seeing black as your eyes roll back from the pleasure.

“P-please… I want your cum inside of me, ghk! Want your cum, wanna feel your cum on my pussy, wanna be your… your, wanna…! Fuck, you feel s-sho’ good, so go~oh~od, aha, ahhhh…!?”

“Don’t worry, my beloved,” he breathes out, hurrying the pace of his hips, he never fully removes his cock from you, instead opting for shallow thrusts that are aided by the length and girth he possesses, “my only wish… is to serve you.”

You can’t even respond as one hand comes to massage your breast and the other lowers itself to play with your clit, the added ministrations have you panting and desperately grinding yourself against the Archon; your body felt like it was on fire from the heat that bloomed from where your two bodies became one.

“‘M close, ‘m gonna cum inside you.”

Those are the only words you have to brace yourself before hot, sticky cum is shot inside your aching body, painting your pink insides white with his depraved love. He doesn’t say anything, his own brain seemingly turned into mush, only capable of low groans and moans that border on animalistic while he made sure to press himself as deep as he humanly could, making sure that not a drop of the cum you’d asked for escaped your greedy hole.

As he rides off his high, emptying his balls inside of you as he softly rocked your body, you can feel your sex clench and slick begin to ooze out of your cute hole. He notices it, and begins rubbing your clit in an attempt to coax you into cumming for him. His finger feels heavenly as he rubs it in quick, fluid motions across your clit and vulva, the cum from your previous release and the overflowing left overs from his own aid you as your feet begin to curl and a ball of pleasure that had been growing inside your lower half finally explodes and you cum one more time on Zhongli’s cock.

Albeit not nearly as sudden nor shocking as the first one, you’re still left a twitchy and aching mess as your legs fall limp in your captor’s arms.

But after tonight, your brain could hardly process him as a threat, everything before the second he’d inserted his dick inside you felt like a distant nightmare, the man who now cradled your body was no longer your enemy - not now, not to you. Your eyelids feel heavy and you’re beginning to doze off as you feel a sloppy kiss be left on your cheek, you look up at Zhongli for the first time since he’d started to fuck you.

His pale skin is burning pink, sweat rolls off his handsome features, his lips look rosy pink and you can see faint bites on them from when he desperately contained his moans, he looked nothing like the God who’d terrorized you previously; his eyes were the easiest give away, however, where they once were full with hatred and disgust, they now shined with passion and servitude.

In his mind, he’d earned your forgiveness, the debauched act of taking you against your will was his last ditch attempt at making things right, and so from today onwards, in his perturbed mind, he was officially your first follower in the continent of Teyvat and most devout worshiper.

“Mhm…” A smile blooms on his lips as he squeezes your ass, the geo wall vanished and you’re left clinging to Zhongli as he adjusts his cock inside of you, the soft movement has you jumping from overstimulation, your sex drunk look endears the Archon as he duly noted his guests’ footsteps approaching, “let’s show them how to properly serve you, shall we?”’

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

sorry this is LONG but i feel like an issue for each of the boys would be feelings like they were a third wheel in the relationship of some sorts.

for bill he’d see these two childhood best friends turned lovers and feel like he’s invading on their destiny. with all their history and memories and inside jokes, he feels too new sometimes like he’s temporary. like one day he’ll end up a side character in their story, someone they’d wonder about in old age. yet the feeling always subsides and he realizes how loved he is.

for steve he finds himself feeling like a drag on billy and tommy’s fun relationship. he fears one day they’ll get sick of his worrying and his fussing and his neediness and realize they’d be happier with each other alone, with no one around to cry wolf when it comes to danger or simply cry all the time. but then they’ll soothe his tears, or cuddle up to him and thank him for stopping their impulsive decisions and he realizes they need him just as much as they need him.

for tom though, the feeling never really goes. it’s just stronger or weaker depending on the day. he feels inferior to both of his beautiful boys in every way, and fears that one day they too will realize how undeserving he is. he looks and steve and billy and they way they love one another as being starcrossed soulmates and himself as some stupid tag along, taking as much as he can get before what he believes is the inevitable. the breakup, the reveal that he meant nothing to them. that they’ve known all along that he was ugly, worthless, annoying and that very other dark thought he ever had about himself was true. he pulls away to lessen the hurt for himself, and it takes a lot of anger, frustration, and heartbreak before steve and billy realize what the true reasons behind tommy’s coldness really is.

i got it, dove 😏. and don’t apologize! thank you so much <3

</3

steve always saw how well tommy and billy just- linked. they were both so smart and impulsive and temperamental and fun. which meant that safety and caution was rarely considered between the two.

they never told steve shit.

one of the worst cases steve had to deal with was when they’d decided to key the principal’s car. all fun and game because the guy was an asshole. steve knew that, wouldn’t have cared all that much.

except the principal had his lunch at 1:15pm every day. and every day he drove down to the diner for a coffee.

any guesses as to when steve’s particular idiotic boyfriends decided to go on with their diabolical plan?

to put it simply. steve got the call that they were in jail. and steve would do anything for his boys. anything.

even call and beg his own father for the funds to bail them each out.

tommy and billy were grateful. hugged and kissed and praised and served on steve once they were released. celebrated and made sure steve stayed relaxed.

except he wouldn’t relax. not after tommy gave a massage. not after billy made steve’s favorite, dulce de leches.

nothing. worked.

so they asked. and steve eventually mumbled.

“i have to work for my father this summer. full time.”

tommy tucked some hair back and out of steve’s eye, “why? you said you wanted to go into—“

“to pay it back,” steve responded. ashamed. ashamed that he was complaining, that he was so banged up for being fortunate enough to have a job. no matter how much he thought about the waste it was going to be. mad. that “tommy and billy quality time” ended like it had. with steve a step more out of the loop and a whole summer of tense lack in communication. and he knew what that led to.

in the end. no one needed to ask what he meant by it.

</3

tommy and steve were close. they didn’t consider themselves closer than either of them were with billy. even if it was a tug at the truth. they wouldn’t accept it. they had a long past but their love was billy’s before it was anything other than.

they told their stories occasionally. and billy felt left out. so he annoyed and rattled the other two more and more until he got their attentions back.

he spat water at steve’s bare back and threw a balled up wet sock that was either billy’s or tommy’s at tommy’s crotch. he missed. just barely. and they two tossed their popsicles off to the side and ceased their conversation about third grade. hopped in and started gulping and spitting water right back at billy.

he was proud. that he managed to pull them out from the times without him. sometimes he wanted to cry because he felt he had to.

</3

now they never left each other for good. they eventually did learn that it was all three of them or nothing.

but before they really became set in stone. before all their silt settled and they grew and little older and wiser.

tommy was the first to lose his balance.

he’d been gone from the room for ten seconds. ten. and when he came back billy and steve were already making out. passionately. tongues out and hands around each other’s shoulders. something churned in his gut and he sat on the opposite end of the couch.

tommy regretted not growing his hair out more. as he ignored how billy and steve rolled and crawled over like puppies, he somehow took notice to how steve twirled billy’s hair between his fingers. billy kissed his temple and it made him feel a little better. but he felt his heart temper up to boiling water as steve watched him. either suspicion or annoyance. both of which tommy couldn’t handle.

they didn’t mention it. tommy leaned more into the couch. and he didn’t speak to either of them for a week and a half.

didn’t return until he saw billy and steve fighting outside the public pool. after hours. tommy had just wanted to sneak in.

“it’s your fault!” billy screamed at steve. he was snotty and his cheeks were wet. steve was blotchy red and his eyes had that hollowed look he got when he was about to break down.

“you’re the one that mounted me! he came back and saw that, how is it my fault. he felt left out. you should have waited until he came back!” steve stumbled over his sentence structure. tommy stayed planted on the gravel.

“you didn’t tell him goodnight before he left,” billy mentioned. tommy thought about it. steve actually had said goodnight that night.

“what are you talking about?” steve asked, incredulous.

“i don’t know!” billy yelled. steve took a step back. a full one. tommy took one forward. watched billy’s shoulders shake like he was a scarecrow in the wind. then he asked in a whimper, “why is he doing this to us?”

steve didn’t have an answer, but he nodded, “it hurts. like he…he took every tendon in my legs and half my heart all at once.” billy dashed to steve, hugged him tight just as steve started crying. both sobbed as the force on both their chests caused collapsed collision.

“i miss him so much.”

tommy took a slow breath. and returned with much more understanding and too much regret to fully acknowledge at once.

[harringtonspolaroids]

hiiiiiii could you write robin buckley x reader based on boyfriend by dove cameron? pls and tyyy

a/n: ahhh i loved this ask! hopefully i did robin justice and the ending wasn't too cheesy. hope you enjoy it anon <3

word count: 654

warnings: none other than a terribly written kiss scene

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐲

One thing about Robin was that she absolutely despised the relationship between you and your boyfriend, Jake. She hated how you would cry over him and your stupid fights. She hated how you would praise him for sometimes doing the bare minimum. And most of all she hated how he treated you like shit. 

You were laying on your back, on Robin’s bed, wearing a sweater of hers she’d let you borrow.

“God I don’t know what is up with him lately! First he ignores me and tells me that it’s not his fault his parents banned him from the phone as if he wasn’t just talking to me an hour ago. What kind of guy does that?” 

“A gaslighting one, Y/N. I’m telling you, what you need to do is just ditch his ass.”

“It’s not as easy as it looks like,” you muttered looking up at Robin. Gosh, the sun really made her look like an angel.

“Sure it is. You just call him over and say it, we’re over.”

“I dunno. He’s stressed most of the time, he probably doesn’t have time to talk to me in the first place. What?”

Robin looked at you with a face that said “Are you out of your mind?”

“You have to be kidding me. Look at you! It’s not that hard to ask you how you are every day.”

“It probably is for him.”

“Why doesn’t he talk to you at school then?”

“He’s busy!”

“And after?”

“He has homework.”

“And at night?”

“He’s tired. You don’t know him like I do.” You played with the hem of your sweater, trying to think of more reasons to excuse him. You were running out. 

“I actually do. He’s just like every other shitty guy you’ve dated Y/N/N. What you need to do is stop justifying his behavior! It’s not that hard to be a good boyfriend. Hell, even I could do it.”

You stopped what you were doing and sat up to look at Robin.

“I’m sure you could.” 

“I’m not joking, I’m serious, it's easy.”

“Really?” You laughed at Robin’s thoughts, it seemed silly. “What would you do?”

Robin shrugged, “I’d drive you to school and get you flowers every Friday. I’d take you on dates as much as could and I’d actually care about what you’re feeling. Like I said, not that hard to be a gentleman.” In Robin's mind, it wasn’t difficult to actually treat a girl nicely, especially if you liked her, which she in fact did.

“That doesn’t seem like too bad of a deal.”

Something about the way Robin seemed… passionate, about the idea of loving you, made your heart swell. You moved over closer to her. You grabbed her wrist, letting your hand run down it until you held your hand in hers.

“What are you doing?” Robin asked, looking mildly confused.

“Do you seriously think you could be better than him?”

“A piece of gum stuck on your shoe could be better,” Robin joked, trying to lighten the tension between you too.

You let out a soft laugh. “But could you be better?”

“I know it.”

You placed your free hand on Robin’s cheek and kissed her, doing what you had been longing for ever since you met her. You knew every other person you’d dated had been worthless compared to her. Why you spent so much time lying to yourself about who you truly loved, who knew? But all you could focus on now was her, and how soft her lips felt against yours and how she still tasted like the ice cream you’d shared an hour ago after her job. After a moment you separated from each other, breathless from the experience you’d just shared. 

Robin smirked and looked at you, her hand resting against your back. “Plus you know all my clothes would fit.”

[bnhamixjuice-sfw]

ANON REQUEST: Hawks, Dabi and Aizawa: spot an ex he had a bad break up with, he sees her walking around struggling to hold on to a bag of groceries while pushing a stroller with a toddler in it that looks awful lot like them, and the he awkwardly confronts them when the bag falls out of her hands.

Tags: Manga Spoiler, Mention of cheating, Angst to Fluff.

Hawks

“I’m so sorry Dove, I didn’t mean to–”

“Didn’t mean what? to deny that I’m your girlfriend in front of the media ‘cause you had a job agreement with the commission not to reveal me! okay Keigo you’re doing this for what reason exactly? Hero Reputation? More women you can use to cheat behind my back again and expect me to forgive you? I–I don’t want this kind of life anymore!”, you wailed in pure anguish roughly wriggling your wrist away from his firm clutch.

He felt suffocated when he needed to let you go for all the things that he did to hurt you, holding back the urge to chase you outside when you frantically closed the door, not looking back anymore on him. Leaving the top pro hero falling on his knees, lonely between these four walls of his house.

After all this time he can’t forget you, longing to see your face everywhere he goes even on pro hero awarding events or his usual patrol work with Endeavor looking for you through the crowds, praying to see your smile again that he misses the most.

His life was crumbling apart without you, but luck was on his side today when he spotted you not too far from where he was signing autographs for his fans while stealing some glances. As always, you’re still beautiful standing there.

Trying to fix your grocery bags while clasping the baby-carriage’s handle. He hesitated at first to approach you thinking you’re probably waiting for your husband to pick you up and your child. And that’s when a tuft of yellow hair popped out.

“Mommy look it’s Hawks, Awtoglaph pweasee awtoglapph”, his excited pleas reached Hawks’ ears. pointing his fingers towards your ex-boyfriend who waved a hand on both of you.

Soon red feathers clumped together on the ground, preventing your bag to fall.

“Wow what do we have here, a kid full of energy today, so where do you want me to sign your autograph?”, stooping down beaming a smile with his eyes crinkling behind his yellow visor making your child gasp in awe.

He knew instantly that his suspicion was right seemingly looking at his own reflection with those golden honey orbs and black lines on those eyelids and small bump protruding behind the kid’s shirt, red feathers similar to his, messily cramped inside.

“Ke–Hawks here… ”, almost calling out his first name when you handed him a notebook and a pen.

Slightly feeling his gloved hand against your palm.

“Hawks look I hab wings too–”

“Honey we need to go home now or else you’ll miss your favorite show again, now say bye bye to Mr. Hawks”, you interrupted, sneaking a warning glare on him not to tell him anything before gently freeing your child’s wings out from his shirt’s makeshift holes.

“Little fledgling I guess your wings were moulting, so did your Daddy tell you about it”

“Hab no Dawdy but Oh you see… Mommy Lov’ Dawdy so much that she booboo cries” you were shock-stricken softly hushing your child out of embarassment.

“Well kid make sure to tell your Mommy not to cry okay cause Daddy loves her so much, yes don’t forget to tell that to her every day I–”, he stammered with his voice started cracking, overwhelming him with emotions too easily, swallowing the lump forming on his throat.

“Your father loves you too kid trust me, and surely there’s not a single day he’s not thinking of your Mommy, his only Dove–Ah I think I’m taking too much of your time Miss I-I’m so sorry”, halting it immediately, muffling a few sniffles before finally signing his signature.

Your heart began thumping so loud, not expecting him shamelessly grabbing your hand, burying you into a warm embrace in public.

“Wait Keigo stop this, everyone’s taking so many pictures of you”

“No I don’t care anymore, listen Dove I’m so sorry and I still love you, come back to me please I promise I won’t hurt you again, I’ll do better this time just let me make up for it, and for our son”

You can’t blame yourself for giving in, accepting him wholeheartedly knowing this is what you promised to him once.

To never let your future child experience the same heartache he suffered from his past.

Dabi

He regret those cruel words that came out from his mouth the first time he was too fed up of your constant admonishment of putting a rest on his revenge against his family forever since you cannot bear to see him exhausting his body anymore, starting this heated discourse again between you.

“You always bring this up y/n every single day and it’s too annoying already, why are you siding on Enji too much Babydoll… come on just say it you really want us to have a perfect family, so cool to have a child with this debilitating quirk too right?”

Sucking your inner lips anxiously avoiding to tell him something about that last one, you felt his grip on your sholders constricting furiously waiting for you to answer him back, but your tears spilling from those precious eyes made his stomach churn in guilt realizing what he had done when you began screaming on his face that everything’s over, shoving him away and locking the door of your house shut.

He knew how much of a dick he was, the worst break up that’s been haunting him everyday with your terrified face forever etched on his mind

It’s been a long time since the last time he saw you after you moved from your old house and he cannot find you everywhere until today.

He saw you pushing a stroller on the side of the road and having a hard time balancing the bag of groceries on your other hand.

Perhaps you found someone better than him and additionally having a child; a normal child considering he’s not the father. that’s what he thought until something caught his attention.

Squinting his eyes, he was slack-jawed to find a familiar cerulean orbs and red hair on that young boy giddily calling you Mommy.

He took this rare chance of talking to you again by catching your bag of groceries that you clumsily dropped, your eyes met recognizing your ex-boyfriend instantly when he removed his mask. piercing eyes gazing down below observing your child’s similar features.

“Babydoll why didn’t you tell me about him, our son?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Dabi and refrain from calling me that nickname anymore, also stay away from MY son before I call the police”

You breathed heavily snatching back your grocery bag from his grasp, clutching the stroller’s handle in pure anger.

“Daddy you meanie, go home”, tugging his pants with those tiny hands.

It hurts you to see your own child begging for his father to go home, when you can’t even tell him how you often show his own picture to your child that’s why he recognized his own father easily, keeping him close to his heart and memory forever.

You can’t hate your only child’s father.

He was expecting him to cry on his intimidating face when he bent his knees down to look at his child closely, ignoring your earlier threat by patting his son’s head seemingly accepting this foreign fatherly instinct.

“Kid look I’m obviously a bad guy, I don’t want you to get in trouble so maybe next time when your Mommy allows me, don’t worry I’ll probably see you again next time pepperoni haired kid”, chuckling when he saw his son’s childish pout, letting him pinch his stapled cheeks annoyed at his nickname.

“Y/n this is goodbye then”, flashing you that thin smile noticing his lips quivering a bit as he stood.

Shoving both of his hands inside his pockets before turning around to walk slowly away from both of you ignoring your child’s tantrum cries calling for him to go back.

“Ssh… sweetie don’t cry okay–Wait Touya!”

He stopped on his tracks when you yelled his real name again, like how you used to call him that before out of endearment.

“We’re going to stay here from now on so same address, the usual okay knock thrice and use our anniversary day on pressing the doorbell and don’t forget our password, listen I’m doing this for our child only so you better show up tonight or I won’t ever give you a chance”

He disappeared quickly after that, and tonight he never failed to show up incessantly ringing the doorbell many times even greeting you that typical password; a kiss.

A yearning kiss, hands intertwining the moment you opened your heart once again.

Aizawa

“Shouta you keep missing my calls these past few weeks when I needed you the most, you barely have enough time to visit me when I was sick the whole week and now you’re late, fine I don’t wanna hear your excuses anymore”

Those bitter words pierced him like thorns, seeing you slip out that engagement ring from your finger and placing it on a table whispering those bitter words he doesn’t want to hear from you.

“It’s better if we end this relationship now before we regret something, I–I can’t imagine my future being married with you or even having a child with you who pathetically seek for time and attention from his workaholic father, sorry Shouta”, you covered your mouth trying to bite back your tongue from spilling about your unborn child.

Running outside the restaurant leaving him heartbroken that he can’t further speak out his words anymore because everything that you just told him was painfully true.

He doesn’t deserve you, blaming himself for not appreciating you enough despite of your effort of enduring the hardships of having a pro hero fiance who often risk his life for his students. A man who can’t even spend a time to take care of you.

Nevertheless, he wanted to mend back those strings that binds you to his heart, always pouring out his loneliness on visiting that Cat Cafe on his day off every week reminding him of memories you two share.

You often take him there to spend a date knowing he’s fond of cats and snapping lots of photos of him every time he ends up sleeping on the corner with cats huddling close to his face nearly suffocating him.

Keeping your engagement ring to him all the time was the only thing that calms him down whenever he’s in dire situation on his job, thinking how much he wish to meet you here again.

Unbelievably seeing you again one time, rubbing his weary eyes once and twice to know if it’s truly you. Indeed, he can’t forget that familiar caring smile of his beloved, finding you outside the cat cafe currently having a problem of organizing your bag of groceries.

“Mawmmy, neko pweasee I wanna touch it!”, your daughter began whinning clapping his hands to get your attention.

He can’t believe his own eyes when your child resembles him too much with that obsidian dull eyes and sleek black hair minus for that pigtail hairstyle but that scowl seems a carbon copy of his own.

“Wait Baby I–”

“I think you need help Y/n”

You were flabbergasted to find your ex-fiance taking a hold of your bag of groceries with his whip that was about to hit the ground and voluntarily offering his Neko tote bag for you which you persuaded him not to.

“Mawmmy pwease I want that too, Neko”, her tiny hands reaching out determined to get it no matter what.

“Baby no–”

“Well your daughter love cats so much, you can give this to her, please just a friendly gift”, taking out something from his pocket leaning down a bit to his side to rummage on that keychain, letting you see his necklace around his neck with that old engagement ring of yours dangling.

“Found it, here kid I’m not sure if you’ll like this”

“Aww Mawmmy have that too um…right Mawmmy, so no thanks Mister”

There’s no way you were married that’s what Shouta suspected when he saw you not wearing any ring, and obviously that cat keychain was closely similar to his anniversary keychain that you two bought for each other.

“Y/n I can drive you two back to your house if its okay–”

“Mawmmy please say yes”

You sighed in defeat not having a choice in the first place and also giving freedom to your child to spend time with her father who doesn’t know about this.

His car was still the same, sitting beside him and your child now sleeping behind after getting so tired ogling on his car’s cat accesories.

You chuckled upon seeing your daughter’s face on the mirror messily drooling, leaning slightly on your side to wipe the corner of her mouth.

“Darling is she our daughter”

“Eyes on the road Shouta, and yes so what will you do about it. Do you expect me to ask for any financial support from you oh maybe spending your precious time for our daughter that I can’t even get from you years ago”, you sarcastically uttered, stabbing him rudely with those truthful words he was unprepared to hear from you.

“I understand if you’re still mad at me y/n, but I just want you to let you know that I want to set things right first before asking you to forgive me. Because I don’t want to miss this opportunity again to tell you how much I wanted to talk to you or maybe to see you in your white wedding dress”

You can’t resist how determined he was to get close to you again, feeling his hand slowly making its way on you.

Giving back that engagement ring to whom it truly belongs, and that was you, a dream he wanted to come true despite it being too impossible.

Turning your head away to wipe your own tears, proposing for the second time that you have been waiting to hear from him all along.

“She’s your daughter Shouta and don’t you dare make her cry of I’ll scratch your face harder than what your cat does”

“That’s too kind of you, I mean my cat misses your deadly belly rub too, you named him Mr. Pickles right, well I’m sure he’d be thrilled to see his Mom again and his new sibling soon”,

You both exchanged soft giggling catching up on one another by starting the conversation about your lives and so on and so forth, and apparently your child was eavesdropping on both of you.

Your daughter muffled a “Pro hero mission success” after accomplishing her goal, peeking a bit to see you wearing that shiny ring.

She knew it the first time she saw that stranger recognizing him from one of the picture you often place under your pillow, her daddy.

Well she did inherit Shouta’s intellectual skills after all.

Do not repost this fic/headcanon.

Disclaimer: I don't own My hero academia nor its characters and plot.

[clairecrive]

“Favorite”- Alfie Solomons x Shelbysister!reader [Requested]

A/N: it’s been a minute since I’ve last written Alfie. Hope I didn’t mess it up. hopefully you’ll like it x It was requested by this anon and someone on wattpad.

Warning: some cussing (it’s Alfie so what did you expect)

Word count: 1.5K ish

Tagging: @mollybegger-blog​, @evelynshelby​, @br0ck-eddie​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @fandom--0verdose​, @sopxhiea​, @fuseburner​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, 

"Fucking Italians," y/n mumbled both angered and brought to close eyes by her thundering headache. Not that it helped but it was più forte di lei, after what those fuckers had put her through, y/n could barely contain her anger. If it wasn't impossible for her to stand without throwing up and probably fainting, she'd be already on her way to give them a piece of her mind.

"Retreat your claws, kitten. It's already been taken care of." A familiar voice spoke from beside her. She didn't need to open her eyes and look to know to whom the voice belonged. It welcomed her every morning and wished her sweet dreams on most nights.

"It's not. My fist hasn't met their faces yet."

His presence comforted and helped in rooting her. There was no point in getting all worked up while she was still in the hospital risking making her headache worse. Y/n knew that but to know and to act accordingly are two different things.

"Well then, that can be arranged, pet. For now, though, you need to rest," he tutted not even trying of hiding his amusement.

Y/n groaned.

"The world must be fucking ending if Alfie Solomons is the wisest in the room," she snickered knowing how prone to anger and action Alfie was.

He merely scoffs and despite not looking at him, y/n knew that he had shot her a mean glance. Indeed, she could only imagine the state she was in but whatever it was, it must not be a pretty sight. And whatever image Alfie had carefully crafted for himself over the ears, y/n knew that he was worried. Probably angry too but given what he said about the Italians, he had already acted on that leaving only worry.

All the more reason to resort to sarcasm then, y/n thought.

However, before any of them could add anything, the door of the room opened. And so did y/n's eyes.

Fuck, was the first thing that crossed her mind when her eyes fell on her brother.

This was not how she'd imagined being reunited with him.

"Mr Solomons," Tommy's tone matched the iciness of his eyes and the imperturbability of his expression.

It was something that y/n had always both admired and hated about him. It was amazing how aloof he was able to come across on any occasion, even though she understood growing up that it was achieved at great expense. However, when in a fight with him, it was greatly unnerving to speak with an unreactive wall of ice. A clench of the jaw was the most you could get out of him.

Y/n had learned how to deal with him and now it didn't bother her anymore, but still. Knowing how much shit she was in, she couldn't help but flinch at his tone. Even if it was directed at Alfie who, for the record, looked completely unbothered by it.

"Mr Shelby," he simply reciprocated the greeting as if he didn't hear the underlying question in Tommy's words. What the hell are you doing here?

"You were the last person I expected to find at my sister's bedside." But Tommy had never been one who shied away from confrontation, didn't lose any time and got right to it.

"Well, life is full of surprises, ain't it?" Topping his head a little further on his head so that he could clearly stare at him, Alfie gave him a smug smirk.

Tommy sat down on the other side of y/n's bed, his eyes never leaving Alfie engaging them in an unwavering contest.

Men.

"You should thank him." She found her voice even though she knew that Alfie didn't need her help and it probably meant for her to be caught in the crossfire. Better than having them shooting glares at each other.

Tommy's eyes snapped to her then, like she wasn't the one he'd come to see.

"You must already know what happened so that means that you're aware of his help." Making the most of his attention on her, she pleaded Alfie's cause.

"What I'm worried about is why he's involved in the first place." Taking a lighter and his pack of cigarette, he lit one.

"Like you don't know, Tommy," y/n snickered, "I know you've sent fucking Isaiah after me like a fucking dog." she huffed deeply annoyed at how his brother thought it was okay to have her controlled like she was a fucking baby. Not that Alfie would have let anything happen to her, anyway. But, above all, she knew how to take care of herself, thank you very much.

His jaw clenched - here it is- but he offered no response. No explanation, no apology. Not that y/n expected him to.

"S'alright Tommy. No need to thank me for protecting my favourite Shelby." Alfie butted in interrupting your siblings glaring. Y/n felt his hand wrap around hers, she didn't know if it was to emphasise his point or to offer her comfort. Either way, she welcomed it intertwining their fingers.

"Wisdom and a compliment both leaving your mouth all in under ten minutes. Fuck, the end of the world is fucking close indeed." Tightening her hold on him, y/n couldn't help but mock him. Not that it was a mystery how Alfie cared for her but he wasn't keen on verbal demonstrations, if it wasn't in the intimacy of a bedroom, so every time he did felt strange. In a good way though. Y/n truly appreciated it but she couldn't pass out on the chance to embarrass him. It was how their relationship was.

"Well, smelling death in the room will do that to ya," Alfie chirped back taking her jab in streak. Told you it was how they worked.

"Nice to know I need to die for you to be nice to me."

"You're not dead though, are ya?" His fed-up tone let on that he was almost regretting that she wasn't but his hold on her hand fooled no one. Well, just her since she was the only one aware of it.

"Still not too sure, to be honest." As holding up her head was proving to be a proving challenge, she rested it back on her pillow. Giving in, she also closed her eyes hoping it'll help.

"If you'd do as you're fucking told then you'd feel better," Alfie scowled.

"Can't you talk to your God or something and ask him to kiss my ouchies away?" She asked while her other hand went up to gently massage her forehead.

"Don't work it like that pet, right?" He somewhat growled at the insinuation no matter how ridiculous it was, "Can help you with that though if you want." And as if someone had flipped a switch, his tone turned suggestive.

"Thought you'd never ask." She smirked peeking at him through her lids.

It was then that Tommy cleared his throat, successfully snapping both of their attention to him.

"This is disgusting."  Disgust evident in his voice but it went unacknowledged by both y/n and Alfie.

"Glad to see you too, Tommy," was y/n's answer to his brother.

"I'm glad you're okay," he said eyes softening in the subtlest way when they landed on y/n. Then he turned to Alfie, " I won't forget this, Mr Solomons. Even though it changes nothing."

"Didn't think it would," Alfie answered while y/n simply rolled her eyes at them.

"I'll leave you to it, then." Pocketing the lighter he had been playing with, Tommy stood up and after lightly nodding at them he went to walk out of the room.

"See you soon, Tommy," Y/n called for him before he was out of the door but she knew that he had heard her.

"See you never," Alfie mumbled under his breath clearly of another opinion. Despite his intentions, y/n had heard him and went to smack him with whatever small energy she had left. Of course, her touch went almost unfelt but Alfie had the decency of feigning hurt.

"So, you know what this means." She spoke again after a while. She never much cared for silence.

"That you're brother's an ass, yeah. Already knew that, dove." Alfie pointed it out, leaning back in his chair, legs widening, his cane resting between them.

"That it's official," she smiled ignoring Alfie's jab at her brother, she looked at him smiling "you've met my family."

"Bloody hell, what did I get myself into." He grumbled hiding his face in his hands. Jokes on him though if he thought she was the difficult one between them.

"Oh shut up, I'm a fucking delight." Shifting around to get more comfortable, she closed her eyes again. It was time to get some rest.

"Yeah, in your sleep maybe." Knowing it to be true, y/n didn't feel the need to say anything, however, if her eyes had been opened she was sure to say anything about the fond smile on Alfie's lips. She secretly loved how much of a sap he really was. Not that she was ever going to tell him, of course.

[skellebonez]

Because I'm sure this is going to be inevitable, how about some angst for the Chaos Trio (Mei, Jin and Yin)? With 61 and 52

Oh I have been looking forward to Chaos Trio angst since you sent me this, anon. Despite how they act in show... I think Jin and Yin are not exactly harmless. Especially if you mess with people they start to consider family.

The Cursed AU and the Chaos Trio in it come from @winterpower98!

Warning: blood and head injuries, enemy demons limbs (not detailed).

That is not a good hiding spot./I am a really bad actor.

Things had been going pretty well, all things considered. Jin and Yin had no problem getting Mei to join them in a little bit of... let's say "competitive insurance" as it were. They had to make sure they were secured in their own little tech related ventures, and after some financial setbacks they needed extra fallback. They’d planned the whole thing out with her help, more than 2 steps and everything! She was good at that.

The problem was that someone got a lucky hit.

They would have made it out with no problems, if they all hadn't decided going on Mei's motorcycle as a group (which, now that Yin thought about it, was probably incredibly dangerous and illegal with 3 of them on it... not that they cared about legality for themselves but somehow when it came to Mei that suddenly made them concerned). But nope. 1 bike. 3 people.

One lucky shot to the rear tire.

The three of them went flying, Mei landing very impressively on her feet whole Jin and Yin bounced on a bush and thanked anyone listening that demons were sturdier than humans. They didn't thank anyone for the pieces of bike that came flying at them all, and they were certain that they heard a piece make contact with something hard, maybe the nearby light pole, but couldn't be sure.

By the time they looked up they just knew they had a group of very angry demons that were pissed they stole and then wiped their code for... something, didn't matter to the twins what it was. They just wanted their competition out of the way. For solely selfish reasons. Nothing else. Not like they wanted it to see what it was and maybe figure out a counter attack so that certain overpowered people with monkey motifs would have an easier time in the future.

Not a chance.

As they fought off the attacking demons they insisted to themselves they didn't care that much.

"That is not a good hiding spot!" Jin yelled across the battlefield as Yin ducked behind crates. "Just chuck it for now and beat em with the blunt end of something else!"

"Just give me 2 seconds, I can fix it!" Yin yelled back, trying his best to reassemble a part of his sword hilt that had broken off.

"Come on, these guys ain't so tough!" Mei laughed out, easily dodging projectiles and backsliding and slicing and dicing as she went. No one was actually killed, but they were lucky because the only reason for that was the young woman wasn't exactly out for blood. They'd be feeling every single hit well into morning though! She was doing much better than the two of them. "Grab a pipe or something! Wish I had MK's magic building power though, I'd rather not be here all-YIN!"

The younger twin looked up from where he had been crouched, eyes widening as he saw the form of a much larger demon hulking over him and ready to batter him with a club.

Things had been going well. All things considered. Then someone got a second lucky hit.

Right as Mei dove in to push the younger silver twin out of the way.

For a second the fighting stopped. There was just the sound of wood hitting hard plastic and fiberglass as the club was sliced in half by her sword and the lopped off half continued it's trajectory and slammed into Mei's head to lead to her crumbling on top of Yin. Jin stood on too of a pile of crates, watching as a line of red seeped through a crack in her visor and stained the white of her suit.

And then his entire vision was red as he lunged at the demon and sliced, sending his arm flying in the opposite direction.

The demon screamed, holding the stump that was his arm from the elbow down, backing away as quickly as he could. "W-what the hell!?"

"Mei," Yin said softly, carefully clicking the emergency release button to make her helmet digitize away. Her eyes were closed, blood dripping from a slice running along her scalp... but as far as he could tell it was from part of the helmet being cracked and cutting her. She was most likely knocked out from the impact, breathing odd but steady in her unconscious state. "You... we're going to get you to the hospital."

His tone hardened as he carefully laid her on the ground, standing tall as he grabbed his broken weapon and a nearby piece of broken steel.

"You. Are going. To pay for that," Yin said coldly, stance no longer lose and half playful as it had been the whole battle. His stood tall, eyes wide and cold and the demons surrounding them felt a chill run down their spines.

Jin stood in front of him, blood from the other demon splattered across his face and chest in a stark contrast to his orange visage.

This... this wasn't the pair of Gold and Silver Demons they had heard about before. They were known for not taking almost anything seriously, making bad deals and pacts and weird blood oaths they wasted on bizarre favors. They were known for being good at tach but not much else, most demons in the area knew vaguely of their history with the Monkey King but even that ended in failure. Their plans were half baked, goofy, and lately they'd heard they'd gotten roped in with the Monkey King's successor and renewed flame of the Six-Eared Macaque.

The two standing before them did not look like the demons they'd heard about.

Mei hadn't wanted to seriously hurt anyone. The demons heard her yelling as much on the battlefield. But now Mei was hurt.

And the twins did.

It happened fast. They wanted to get it over with quickly. Mei had also not wanted to kill anyone at the very least the twins could do was keep up their promise from earlier in the day to avoid that. And they did.

That didn't mean there weren't lost limbs. Hands and arms. A leg or two. More than a couple eyes were lost. Someone lost an ear. Another a tail and horn.

Injuries they could recover from meant as warnings.

All it took was 3 minutes and the entire storage area they crashed in was a mix of grey and brown and red. Demons holding their injuries or running off.

The one who had attacked Yin and hurt Mei stood in awe and fear, looking down at the smaller twins who has decimated an entire group so fast.

"I-how!?" He yelled, backing up slowly. "This isn't possible, you're not this strong!"

"Who told you that?" Yin asked slowly, tilting his head and watching as the demon realized... he'd never heard they couldn't fight. "We don't fight like this because we don't want to. Never meant we can't."

"Why?"

"We are really bad actors," Jin said, wiping the blood off his weapon on an unconscious demon's shirt. "Why bother trying to hold back when we can just hide it by not trying?" He turned to the demon, glowering coldly as he watched his brother pick Mei up carefully. "Tell anyone who asks nothing. We'd like to keep it that way. Unless you want a round two where someone else doesn't hold us back."

And then they were gone.

~

"What in the actual hell happened?" Macaque asked in an even tone. Practiced even. A dangerous even.

"Well-" "You see boss-" "we kinda-" "-there was-"

Jin and Yin tried to think of a reasonable excuse, faltering as everything they thought of sounded worse and worse in their heads.

The two sat in Mei's hospital room, towels draped around their shoulders. They’d been smart enough to stash Mei's bike somewhere safe and wash off in the ocean before coming to the hospital, less covered in demon blood meant less scared humans when they rushed in with Mei in tow, and it was easy to make the nurses believe them.

Simple bike accident, friend hurt, help please.

With Macaque staring them down with his patented death glower, shadows growing and warping around the room in response to him, it was infinitely harder.

Of course Mei's emergency contact was MK. Of course MK could call Macaque before her parents (who were apparently on their way back from some kind of dragon family business trip when they learned). Of course Macaque would show up almost immediately and begin asking questions.

"It was my fault," Mei chimed in, voice slightly off from having awoken with a nasty concussion. "I thought it'd be fun to go on a joy ride late at night, I've done it before without issues! But, uh... I've never had two passengers before... and we hit something. Don't be mad at them?"

Macaque looked like he believed Mei as much as he believed Tang would lose interest in the Monkey King and switch his field of study to obscure methods of basket weaving. Which is to say: he didn’t. But he sighed, giving Mei a small smile as the shadows returned to normal.

"Ok," he said softly, tone much more gentle with the dragon descendant as he reached out to brush loose hair out of her face. "I won't be mad at them. I'll be very disappointed-" his tone hardened for a second at those words as he turned to the twins with a glower again. "-but I won't be mad. Do you need anything?"

"Maybe a candy bar from the vending machines outside?" Mei asked with a smile.

"Sure," Macaque laughed and shook his head, moving to the corner of the room. "I'll be right back."

He sunk into the shadows, a cool trick that the twins would always be impressed by, and they breathed a sigh of relief at knowing they were alone. For now.

"You didn't have to do that," Jin said, frowning at Mei in concern. Maybe it was just because he was now the eldest in the room, but some kind of protective feel pulled at him.

"I know," Mei said with a tired laugh, laying back into her pillow. "But you guys are like... my bros. I gotta stand up for my bros."

And that made both Jin and Yin pause. They looked at each other, eyes widening as they both came to a realization that was probably a very long time coming at that point.

"Yeah..." Yin said, a soft smile forming on his face. "We'd do the same for you... you know, if you didn't take that hit for me you probably would have kicked everyone's ass way better than us! We barely got out by the skin of our teeth!" A full truth and a blatant lie, but he hoped Mei wouldn't pick up on that second part.

"You know it, boi!" She didn't.

It was odd for him in particular. Yin had never really thought of himself as an older brother before.

First time for everything.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

You're My Home Too | Loki Laufeyson

Hey lovelies happy Saturday! I hope you all have had a lovely day! Here is the first Loki "drabble" of the event, please do enjoy and make sure to take care of yourselves today!

Appetizers (Tags): Angst, Fluff

Entres (Pairing): Loki x F!Reader (third person)

Sides (Prompts): 6: “You’re all I have.” “You’re all I have too, you know?”

Notes: None, Requested by Anon

Word Count: 2.2k

Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List

She watches as the black haired god tilts his head, eyes locked on his brother. It looks like he’s nodding along, agreeing to something Thor has said, but she can see it— the way his pupils dart across the blonde’s face, flitting over his shoulder before returning, latching on a different spot. It’s unnerving to watch him be so docile. So passive— not at all like the usual, fiery tempered, grinning god of mischief. She’s never seen him look so blank. Something’s definitely wrong.

She has a feeling she knows what it is, too. If she’s right then it’s the same reason she laid awake all night, curled on her side of Loki’s bed, listening to the sound of his steady breathing until the sun came up. She can practically hear the conversation— Thor’s been itching to go home for weeks now. Somehow they’ve always managed to get held up each time— saving the world and what not. Now, though, there’s nothing keeping them. No androids or aliens or wizards. Just her— the best friend— and that’s not going to cut it.

Loki’s eyes flick to hers, blue irises somehow vibrant even from across the room, and she forces the corners of her lips to turn up, an attempt at flaking off the frown that she’s sure has been plastered on her face all morning. If his frown is anything to go by, however, then she would say that it doesn’t work out. Oh well— she didn’t really expect it would.

He can sense lies and even if he couldn’t he would still be able to read her like a book. Half the time it feels like he’s more in her head then she is, always figuring out what she wants before she can think it let alone say it aloud. Usually that’s followed by him dropping whatever he’s doing to get it for her. Unless, of course, it’s a hug— then he’s dropping whatever he’s doing and pulling her into his arms.

Who’s going to hug her if he’s a galaxy away?

Is it even a galaxy? Surely it’s more. A dimension away. Her stomach tosses, the sting in her chest mixing with a wave of the nausea she’s been fighting all morning. A combination of not eating— not being hungry enough to eat— and sadness. No not sadness— grief. Sadness feels easier. It’s waving your best friend off to college— not to another fucking world. This isn’t sadness— this is losing everything she has come to need for an entire year. Warmth and protection and his sea-salt skin and elegant voice. Who else is going to speak so gently to her when he’s gone?

“Dove—” she blinks and he’s suddenly there, kneeling on the floor in front of the couch where she's been sitting for the past hour, legs curled under her and all the way numb— “what’s wrong?”

His dark brows crease together, his hand snaking from his side and reaching for hers. She offers him another pathetic half-smile, tangling her fingers with his long ones and shaking her head slightly. “Nothing, Loki. How’d your talk go?”

She doesn’t miss the way he winces. He tries to hide it, replicating her tilted lips with his own, but, like her, his eyes don’t follow suit. Instead they flash with something that looks too much like dread for her to keep her act up. When her mouth creases into a frown, so does his. It’s all she needs to know— he really is leaving her.

“My brother misses home.” The god reaches out his other hand and— like everything they seem to do— she copies him, meeting him halfway and lacing those fingers together as well. He runs his thumb over hers, his blue eyes intense— worried. “There are a few things we have to sort out. They’re getting impatient.”

They’re. That could mean so many things. It could mean his people— the asgardians. It could mean his family— it definitely means Thor, the god who she can hear pacing from the kitchen. Her eyes pool over the features of the man in front of her, landing on the circles under his eyes. Does it mean him too? Has she been keeping him from going home? The thought makes her throat sting— of course she has. She’s been so stupid, clinging to a literal god. Of course he would have to go home at some point. She was only fooling herself thinking he would stay with her. What’s upstate New York when you have a celestial castle or whatever the hell it is he has?

“Dove?”

She blinks again, zoning back into his even more concerned stare— shit.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, squeezing his hands if only to ground herself against slipping away again. “That sounds important. Your, uh, your kingdom needs you.”

I need you too, though.

It feels like her heart is lodged in her throat and that she’s speaking around it. When she swallows it doesn’t go away— if anything it grows, tears stinging at her eyes, threatening to fall. She hates how selfish she feels. He doesn’t belong to her— he doesn’t belong with her— and she should feel lucky to have called him her friend for this long. Still she can’t help but wonder what her days will look like without him. Empty. Boring. Terrifying. She has friends here but it isn’t the same. The connection isn’t the same— the warmth and smiles and laughter aren’t the same.

She isn’t just losing her best friend, she’s losing her home.

And she breaks.

And he notices.

God, he always notices.

She supposes with the tears now streaming down her face, though, that she can’t exactly blame him for that one. It’s a little noticeable. What she will blame him for is how he releases her hands, instead rising to his full height and settling on the couch, angling his lithe body towards her and wrapping his arms around her stomach. He waits— one beat, two beats— for her to turn as well, pushing up on her knees and throwing her arms around his shoulders. She holds him tight— tighter than she can confidently say she has ever held him before. She has to— it’ll very likely be the last chance she gets. She has to memorize it— him.

“I’m sorry,” she laughs bitterly. It’s more of a sob— the kind that catches in her throat, getting stuck between silent and booming. “I’m being silly.”

Loki shakes his head— she can’t see it but she can feel his jaw brushing her hair, his hands pushing her closer to his chest. She digs her fingers into his jumper, scrunching the green wool like somehow it’ll make this all okay. His hand runs up her back, curling it around the nape of her neck, hand cool and soft.

“No you aren’t.” He murmurs, face still pressed against her hair, and she fights back more tears— he’s too gentle with her.

She doesn’t say anything right away, she just sinks against him, biting her lip and forcing herself to just be in the moment. He smells like rain today. It’s always different— always changing— but today he smells like the summer pavement before a three day thunderstorm hits and it feels fitting.

After a few moments she finally pulls away, tugging against his hold and running the heel of her hand under her eyes. He doesn’t give her much leave, only a few inches to be able to look up at him, blinking away the blurriness of her glassy eyes and sniffling. His lips are pressed together, his head tilted again. Unlike with his brother, though, his eyes never stray from hers. As always, it makes her breath catch in her throat, her heart racing in the way only he can seem to do.

She finally brings herself to ask the hard question— the one that’s been hanging around them for weeks. “When are you leaving?”

His fingers on her spine tense— that can’t mean anything good.

“Today, dove.”

“Oh.”

She doesn’t know what else to say— that and if she says anything more she’s afraid she might start sobbing again. Sobbing or just stop breathing altogether. Today? She couldn’t have had one more night with him? You’ve already had ‘one more night’ for four weeks, the little voice in her head reminds her. It’s time to let him go. She slips her hands around his arms— easier said than done. She knows that once he leaves her life will change— and it might never go back to normal.

Loki’s eyes flash, the blue darkening, a crease forming between his brows. He opens his mouth but no words come out and soon he’s pressing his lips together again, the dejection in his eyes and aura tangible. She has to say something— she can’t leave it on this note. She just has no idea what to say. No idea how to say goodbye.

So she doesn’t.

“You should probably start packing then, yeah?” She pushes her lips into the tortured smile again, muttering the words.

She’s sure he would have forced himself to laugh—

“I want you to come with me.”

— were it not for him speaking at the same time.

Her heart stops when his words flit past her eardrums. “What?”

She must be dreaming— there’s no way he just said what she thinks he said. It has to be her imagination playing a cruel trick on her. Trying to protect her from the pain until the last second. But no, that’s not right, now when his cool hands move from her back to her cheeks, his thumbs running over her cheekbones and drawing her back to him. He leans down, pressing his forehead against hers and she gasps— she can’t help it. His skin is so soft that her eyes flutter close.

“I said I want you to come home with me, dove.” His nose brushes against hers, his words entirely soft.

She’s speechless— completely and utterly floored. “To Asgard?”

He chuckles, minty breath fanning her lips. “Yes, to Asgard.”

She pulls back, head so fuzzy she almost topples over from the motion, hands curling tighter to keep from falling. He really wants her to go home with him? Just like that her heart starts beating again, kicking starting her pulse which begins hammering as the notion of staying with him starts to become clear. He’s not leaving?

“But—” she stammers, blinking rapidly as she tries to form a coherent thought— “why me?”

For a moment he just looks at her, his brows knitting together once more, his eyes filling with something she can’t decipher. He kind of looks confused. Only she could confuse a god. She almost slaps herself, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Why the heck would you ask him that you idiot? Now he’s not gonna’ want to take you with—

“Because you’re all I have.”

He says it so nonchalantly— like it’s a fact and not a confession that makes her very essence roar. She supposes that to him it is just a fact. That when you’re all powerful speaking your mind is normal. It is just a fact and she is just a girl and he is just a god. Fact, fact, facts. Her head spins. This— he— cannot be real.

“I—” That’s as far as she gets before her sentence drops, mouth gaping but empty.

Thankfully he picks it up, continuing his unconcerned profession.

“It’s not home if you’re not with me, my little midgardian. Not anymore.” He shrugs and she almost chokes— how is he saying this so calmly when she feels like she’s going to combust? “I really think you’d like it, actually. It’s very pretty— lots of gardens. Oh, and the library! You would enjoy the library.” He tilts his head, his eyes fading out slightly as he thinks about his home. “I’m sure there will be a ball of some sort when we arrive home. I know, I know— you don’t like big events but—”

This time she’s the one who places her hands on his cheeks, shaking her head, letting the first euphoric giggle out. “Of course I’ll go, Loki.”

A grin spreads across his lips, his eyes widening like he just won the lottery as he leans forward, connecting them once again. It makes her heart jump in her chest. What did he think she was going to say? No? She giggles when his lips press against her cheek, her nose scrunching. He must notice because his mouth curves even more against her skin. Soon his lips aren’t just on her cheek but on her forehead and chin and nose as well.

“Even if we have to go to a ball?” He teases, his voice lighter than she’s heard it in weeks.

“Even then.” She confirms, fingers gliding into his hair and tangling them in the silky strands. She takes a deep breath, nerves thrumming as she adds softly. “You’re all I have too, you know? You’re my home too.”

Loki hums happily against her skin, taking her own confession the same way he had made his own— easily. It’s the best outcome she could have hoped for. She can’t wipe the wide smile from her lips as he wraps his arms properly around her once more. It’s not long before his lips find her ear, soft words echoing against her skin.

“You should probably start packing then, yeah?”

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Ok ok ok so theres a soulmate prompts and it's the most important thing your soulmate says to you is written on you and like i think it would be a great prompt for either Kyoutani or Ushijima and it be something along the lines of I love you something that people hear everyday but would mean so much more than just "I love you" coming from them

Okay, ngl, I was struggling a bit with this one. Motivation really said nope. But! Then, something happened today, and this ended up a little longer than I wanted it to. But! It is so good. So here, my lovely little anon, have my heart and soul

Thank you for sending in a request to the event my dear

----

The idea of having a soulmate was sweet in and of itself; actually having a soulmate was a different story of whether you could actually find them. Because in a world so big and full of people, the chance of finding them was getting so rare that it was more surprising to see a pair of soulmates than it was to see a regular couple who had chosen to be together.

It didn’t help that you only had a phrase on your wrist to go by. “That sentence will be the most important thing your soulmate will say to you,” your 6th grade teacher mused with stars in her eyes, “and your soulmate is someone who you will feel the most connected to, things will feel right, like everything has fallen into place.” At the time, you were infatuated with soulmates (maybe because they held the love that you lacked), but you’d grown to realise how small of a chance you had to find your soulmate.

I love you.

Of course you couldn’t have something normal, something easy to recognise. Now you had to second guess every single time someone told you they loved you, whether you’d felt some sort of special connection or whether it was just a friendly remark. Life was ever confusing.

You settled on the idea you had no hope to find your soulmate, that you’d have to create your own special connection with someone - that made you content - because special connections can be made with time and care.

That was why you’d loved you’d met Kyoutani Kentarou - maybe it was a bad thing that you two fueled each other’s flames but who was to stop you? No one, that would be the first problem. You’d met at a volleyball camp for young kids, your brother wanted to go so your mom made you go with him; it was like you locked eyes and were instantly drawn to each other.

As much as neither of you liked to admit it, no one could make you happier than the other. He was the spark in your step, the flame in your heart, the roar you needed to fight back. You were his calm, an ocean in a world surrounded by destruction, the bite he needed to pull back. That wasn’t to say you weren’t just as chaotic - if not more - than he was. Sure, he'd be the one to start fights, but you preferred to finish them. To push buttons beyond relief.

Neither of you had exceptional social skills, but who needs social skills when you already found the person who compliments you so well.

He may not have been the reason you played volleyball initially, but he was the reason you stayed. And, like Kyoutani, if you’re going to put your energy into something, you put 100% of your effort into it. The same way you’d put 100% into your relationship with him.

Kyoutani started your adventures together and you tagged along. When he joined Aoba Johsai, you were hot on his tail. He joined the boys VBC team, and you joined the girls. It meant you spent a little less time together, but when you were together you had so much to talk about.

So maybe things started to go wrong when you started getting closer to your team and he was at an impasse. More temperamental and on edge than ever before. And that shitty captain of his didn’t help much either, but you helped where you could - even when it didn’t seem to go anywhere.

And when he was kicked out of his club, you followed suit once again, quitting yours until he got a chance to join again. Even when you were suffering, it couldn’t have equated to what he was feeling, so you dealt with it.

“Why did you do it?” He asked, glaring off into the distance after school. You didn't know why you were waiting around, but he said he had something to do, so you joined him.

“What?” You quirked a brow up at him.

“Quit your club.” He elaborated and you shrugged.

“Where you go, I go, no matter what, Kenta.” You looked away before you could see the emotions on his face shift from his typical glare to something more. Something light and filled with adoration and confusion all at one. His hand unconsciously went to his shoulder, where the words of his soulmate lay. You weren’t even paying attention. He could have sworn his heart fluttered in that moment.

Of course, he’d always liked you in some way, that was why he let you stick around - and maybe there was a deeper connection he couldn’t explain. But there was an issue: he didn’t want things to change. Maybe he was being selfish, who cares. Not him. Definitely not him.

Things only got worse when he started to notice things about you, things he’d seen before but hadn’t really paid attention to. Like the way you swayed your head in deep concentration, or how your eyes would light up when talking about something you were passionate about. How you’d bite your lip nervously as he argued with people. Even that you’d reach out and grab his shirt just before he swung to punch. You’d stand more behind him when the volleyball came around him, like you were on edge around them, eyes constantly flickering between them and him for any signs of hostility. You didn’t seem to trust them (with the exception of Iwaizumi because he trusted Iwaizumi).

Every little thing you did drove him crazy. So what if he’d fallen for you? You didn’t need to know because things didn’t need to change.

Watching you play volleyball was like a different kind of rush - you were a Libero - every movement was calm and calculated as you dove across the court. He can only imagine how it must have felt for you. And the fact you insisted on wearing a skirt on the court drove him insane.

You must have noticed, because you brought it up. “You doing okay, Ken?” You tilt your head to the side, trying to work out the wonders in his mind. For the ninth time today, he avoids your eyes. You’re starting to feel offended, have you done something wrong? You couldn’t think of anything you’d done wrong, but maybe you just weren’t thinking hard enough.

“‘M fine.” He sighed; you looked up at him with wide doe eyes and he thought his heart might melt. Then you did the worst thing you could have done; you reached out and squeezed his hand. He tried to pull away, but you wouldn’t let him - in the end, he ended up falling over, you ended up falling with him. On top of him.

Was this heaven or hell? He’d find out later. Of course he knew you were his soulmate, but you didn’t know. You couldn’t know. He wouldn’t let you know. Because things were fine how they were. And what if he wasn’t good enough? What if he hurt you somehow? You were happy right now, weren’t you? So maybe everything would be fi-

You slapped his cheek harshly, glaring down at him. “Kyoutani Kentarou-” oh no, so you were mad “- if you don’t tell me what’s happening right now, I swear to God.” He cringed away. By trying not to hurt you, he’d hurt you - who could have predicted this would happen?

What would the consequences be if he told you how he felt? Maybe you’d be happy, or maybe you’d be mad. He’d be putting everything on the line right now. But the way you looked at him - almost darkly, some sadness, but most of all confusion and anger. It made his heart stung.

Before he could think more, his mouth worked faster than his mind, “I love you!” He almost yelled it out, he was staring directly in your eyes; he got to watch your emotions shift. It was like you went through the five stages of grief: denial (in the form of confusion), anger (your brows furrowed together and knuckles turned white), bargaining (your eyes pleaded with him to change his mind, or the words he used, or anything), depression (you pulled in on yourself, he could feel all your muscles tense), and then there was a pause, your face went blank, you were searching his eyes for something - anything - and you seemed to find it. Acceptance: you wrapped your arms around him and buried your head in the crook of his neck.

You could never be sure whether he was actually your soulmate, but something about that look in his eyes told you he meant it. No if’s, and’s or but’s. His heart was yours, and yours his. Wherever he went, you followed.

The only time you didn’t follow him was when you walked down the aisle.

----

General Taglist:

@pies-writes-and-more @satan-ruler-of-hells @dekuspet @samkysnks @lucyheartfilias-wife 

If you wanna be added to the taglist, send me a DM or an ask

[mallowstep]

hey again! i was the anon that asked about how you write the beginnings to your fics. your feeling was right; i wasn’t really asking about plot. my problem was that i was staring at a blank screen, trying to come up with a beginning scene, and failing because i didn't know how to begin. a commenter said something about challenging themselves to write a scene that establishes the major divergences from canon, which is exactly what i've been trying to do. even though i know what i want, i don't seem to know how to go about it. i think it's because i'm usually a very descriptive writer, but for this fic, i wanted to do something simpler, and now that’s putting me at a loss. i’m so used to starting fics off descriptively that i'm not sure how do it any other way.

HHHHHHH FUUUCK TUMBLR SDL;FJ;DSALKJF

FUCK TUMBLR!

okay. so. sorry. i wrote a WHOLE FUCKING THING. dear god. i fucking.

it's been a while since it was relevant, but i have a issue with repeating work. like. it's something my brain won't let me do. so this is going to be much, much shorter than it was initially and i'm sorry about that.

anyway.

you're making this too hard. look at this first draft of a paragraph from a published novel:

[id: paragraph of nearly illegible handwritten text]

as you can see, only one sentence remains.

i'm going to include my own example from istmsams under a cut (because of the daddy thing).

you can change your first scene, but only if you actually write it. which means if you can write a descriptive intro, write that. don't worry about how you actually want to start. just get some words on the page.

there's a reason published novelists write the whole thing first and edit.

rough draft: (also, aside, tumblr's beta editor makes it almost impossible to type indented text conveniently. first, ">" should be the block quote shortcut, because that's what it does in markdown. it's really annoying that it goes to a quote block. (block quote = intendented text; quote block = tumblr big serif letters.)

Dovewing churrs, rubbing her temple against Tigerstar's shoulder. "I don't want to upset you," she says. "I'm sorry if you saw Daddy playing with me."

"Don't call him that!" Ivypool hisses. "Stars, I'm right --- you don't --- urgh!"

"You did follow me."

"Because you were going to meet him."

"Which I did."

"And?"

"And you can't yell at me because you decided to watch."

"But you know I'm here now!"

Dovewing pouts. Not that it will [draft cuts off mid sentence]

"You're the one who had the idea to follow me, knowing where I was going."

Ivypool curls her lip. "Sorry, I didn't expect my sister to be calling

draft cuts off mid sentence lol.

final version:

Dovewing churrs, rubbing her temple against Tigerheart’s shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“You—”

“Ivypool,” Tigerheart warns. “Now isn’t a good time for this.”

“Because you were about to fuck her? Yeah, what ThunderClan really needs is more halfClan kits.”

“Because you’re upsetting her.” He kisses her temple.

“It’s fine,” Dovewing says. The look she gives Tigerheart makes it clear what she wants to add, and Ivypool is grateful she doesn’t. “But it is weird that you followed me.”

“When you say you’re going on walks at night, but I find hay in your nest, I do grow concerned.”

“Hay?” Tigerheart eyes Dovewing. “Kitten—”

“Stray piece. Could’ve been from anything.” She flicks her ears. That’s not the point. It’s still weird that Ivypool followed.”

“Yeah, trust me, I wish I hadn’t.” Ivypool flops to the ground. “But really, Dove, daddy?”

“Not that it’s your business, but yes.” Dovewing’s ears flick a few times, and she can’t quite meet Ivypool’s eyes.

[send-me-your-hcs]

Mafia boss Tony sends his son Peter away at a young age to live with his aunt and uncle. Every month he goes to visit his son. Maybe he takes Peter somewhere nice like the movies or Central Park. Without fail, their nights together always ends with Tony balls deep in a sobbing Peter. A support check arrives for Peter the next morning.

Oh fuck me I love this prompt. Ty anon

Warnings: Age unspecified Peter but IMPLIED very underage, incest, noncon, creepy dark bio dad!Tony, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

“You’ve grown.”

The boy sinks lower in his chair, attempting to hide behind the other side of the table. He still hasn’t looked Tony in the eyes once since he picked him up from the Parkers’. It goes beyond Peter’s regular shyness - the boy is fidgety, morose. A typical teenager, maybe. Except that he’s not.

When Tony gives him an impatient look, Peter meekly shrugs, responding without responding. He’s always been a very quiet boy, but the silent treatment is especially irritating. Tony takes a sip of his wine in an attempt to crush the feeling. Their visit’s only just begun. It’s too early to fight.

When the waiter comes to refill his glass, Tony says, “And one for him, too.” Peter looks up, shocked, adorably concerned, but the waiter doesn’t bat an eye as he fills the empty wine glass beside his iced tea. This isn’t the first time Tony’s brought his son here. Even if it had been, everyone knows they’d lose a lot more than Tony’s business if they dared refuse his request.

Peter stares at the glass once the waiter leaves. Tony smiles at him as he sips his own, but the boy’s gaze is fixated. “Drink up,” he orders softly, watching the worry deepen on Peter’s handsome face. He doesn’t move. “Drink it, Peter.”

The boy’s hands shake as he lifts the heavy glass to his lips. Everything about it reminds Tony how young his son is - the way his face scrunches up at the taste, the way he carefully lifts the glass by the bowl with both hands, not trusting himself to use the stem. The way his hands look terribly, unbelievably small, his fingers short and thin as they wrap around the wide bowl beneath the rim. He truly is just a little slip of a thing. Bigger than last month, sure, he’s at that age. But only just starting the long ascent into adulthood.

It’s only been a month since they last saw each other, but already, Peter’s hand-me-down clothes are fitting just a little better than they were before, not as loose and baggy around the ankles, not hanging as low down his thighs. The Parkers tried to dress him up, as they always do, but they seem to have some aversion to using Tony’s money to buy his son nice things. The button-up shirt and dress slacks they wrapped him in are clearly Ben’s, trimmed and hemmed amateurishly to fit tighter on Peter’s skinny body. Any charm the look has is only attributed to the fact that it’s Peter wearing it.

“Apparently I need to take you shopping,” Tony muses, mostly to himself. “Drink, Peter. We’ll have a different wine when dinner is served.”

Peter takes a long, deep breath through his nose and lifts the glass to his lips again, then steels himself and gulps the rest of the burgundy liquid down. Tony chuckles, pointedly not mentioning that the alcohol is going to hit him much faster now, and lets the boy go back to sulking, tense and silent, in his chair.

—

After dinner, Tony loads a wobbly, light-headed Peter into his car and drives him to the Hall of Science. Peter is a little more animated as they walk around and take everything in, but Tony suspects that’s mostly the alcohol’s doing. The boy still hasn’t said much and he shies away when Tony wraps an arm around his shoulders, flinching at the contact. Tony buys him a little souvenir at the giftshop and ruffles Peter’s hair when the boy mumbles a quiet thank you.

They don’t say a word on the drive to the hotel. Peter’s never once asked why Tony doesn’t bring him to the penthouse during their visits, and Tony’s in no hurry to tell him. If the Parkers have told his son what he truly does for a living, behind the scenes, Peter’s never acted differently for it. He’s still the same sullen little boy he’s always been.

The room Tony rented is a bright and vast penthouse suite that costs more money per night than the Parkers pay for their monthly mortgage. The California King bed stands in the middle of the main room like a centerpiece, drawing your gaze to it as soon as you walk through the door. Tony suspects that’s not the reason Peter hasn’t taken his wide eyes off it. He stays huddled in the foyer, fidgeting with the toy Tony bought him at NYSCI, looking terribly lost.

Tony pours himself a glass of scotch at the bar and pulls his tie free from his neck. “Come here, Peter,” he calls gently, watching the boy teeter and debate whether or not he should obey. In the end, he knows there’s nowhere else to go. He keeps his head down as he shuffles his feet forward into the room, like he’s dragging himself towards his father.

Tony sips his drink and looks the boy over. He’s growing up. Every month he gets more beautiful, his features filling out to define his gentle face. If he resembles anyone in their family, it’s Tony’s own mother, with that soft head of hair and big, dark bambi eyes.

He cups the boy’s chin, thumbing over his bottom lip. Peter’s eyes are already glazing over with tears. It makes Tony’s skin itch, all the little hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Peter has always been so receptive to him. Always reacting. Feeling. Submitting.

He takes the back of the boy’s head to hold him still, grip tightening ever so slightly as he leans down and kisses him.

—

Harsh, labored breaths ghost over the pillows Peter’s face is buried in. Tony trails kisses over his shoulder blades, hips still gently rocking as he rides out his orgasm. Peter’s knuckles are bone-white as they clutch the sheets, strangling the soft material for all he’s worth.

Tony pants against his son’s back. The silky clutch around his softening cock is absolutely divine; warm and dripping wet where they’re still sealed together. Peter’s back trembles as he struggles to hold in his hiccuping sobs, making his tight skin dance across Tony’s lips.

“My good boy,” Tony sighs happily against Peter’s glistening skin. He kisses him again and grinds his hips against Peter’s ass, grinning when the boy whines and shivers. “Did you get off, honey? Did you come for Daddy?”

Peter gives him a stiff, curt nod, but when Tony wedges a hand beneath his hips to his pelvis, he finds his cock still hard, the tip leaking. He clicks his tongue in disapproval and wraps his hand around the boy’s shaft. “Peter. Why are you lying to me? It’s obvious you didn’t come.”

“I don’t want to,” Peter slurs into his pillow, pleading. “I just wanna go to sleep now, Dad, please.”

“That would be rude,” Tony scolds, pulling back so he can roll the boy over. Peter is quick to bury his face in his arms, trying to hide his tears, as if it’s the first time he’s ever cried during sex, and not the norm. “Let Daddy make you feel good.”

The whimper that leaves Peter’s pink little mouth when Tony swallows him down is gorgeous. He encourages Peter’s hips to rock upwards, rutting against his face, until the broken sobs turn to pleasure-filled groans. Tony trails his lips up to the head of Peter’s pretty little cock and back down, sucking hard, smiling when Peter’s hips stutter, his orgasm fast approaching.

He pulls back in time to let the boy finish all over his cute little belly. Peter’s labored breaths return to quiet sobs, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip hard enough to pierce the skin. “Don’t do that,” Tony says, pulling Peter’s lip from his teeth with the pad of his thumb. “You’ll leave a mark, Pete.”

Peter drops his arms from his face. His eyes stay glassy with tears and glued to the ceiling as Tony wipes the come from their bodies with Ben’s old dress shirt.

“I’m going to give you a little extra this month,” Tony says as he tosses the filthy shirt away. “I want you to use it to buy something nice to wear for next time. Don’t let May talk you into buying something big enough to grow into - I’m going to give you extra for a tailor, too. I want you to see one before I pick you up next month. Got it?”

Peter says nothing, his gaze still stuck to the ceiling. The goddamn silent treatment. Tony snaps his fingers in front of the boy’s face and says, “Pe-ter. I’m talking to you. Did you hear what I just said?”

A shiver wracks the boy’s body. He turns his wet-eyed gaze back to Tony’s face and nods, sullenly.

“Good. And you’re going to be a good boy and do as Daddy says?”

There’s a beat of hesitation. Then another nod, Peter’s lips parting so he can softly mutter, “Yes, Daddy,” before closing his eyes and turning away.

[writingmyanxietyaway]

Beautiful, Beloved | Berlin

Requested by anon:  Hello!!! How are you? I hope good!! May I ask for 10 18 and 23 from the prompt list with a Berlin x f reader? I just need me some angst with a fluffy ending hehe, it's completely fine if not tho!!! Keep up with the amazing work!!

Word count: 1.8k

Warning: angst

Note: not my gif! Didn’t proof read so sorry for any typo’s!

I chose not to do prompt 18, because I’ve already done that one for Berlin. Hope that’s okay! Enjoy x

#10 - ‘You know we’re supposed to be together. I knew the first time I saw you and you know it too. I know you do.’

#23 - ‘Why choose me?’

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

It was one of those nights again. You and Berlin were fighting, because he couldn’t keep it in his pants. He didn’t cheat though, but it was the hundreth time that he had women practically throwing themselves at him. You couldn’t blame the women though, he was a handsome man and you basically did the same when you first saw him. But the problem was that he didn’t even try to push them away or tell them he was in a relationship.

‘My God, you were basically fucking them with your eyes, Andrès! How do you expect me not to get mad at that?!’ you yelled. You tried to walk away from him, but he followed you everywhere.

‘Oh come on, I did the same to you!’ he laughed, pointing at you.

‘Because you were single! You can’t behave the same you did when you were single, because you’re not single anymore!’ you groaned, while throwing your hands up. You took a deep breath and lowered your voice. ‘If you so desperately want to be single again, that’s fine, but just tell me. It’s the least I deserve.’

Once the words left your lips, you saw his expression change from smug to shock. You breath hitched and a sudden burning in your eyes ruined your tough façade. Berlin’s heart stung while he looked at your broken state. It was just now that he noticed how tired you looked. Big, dark circles marked your eyes, the light had left it’s orbs and your cheeks were hollow. You had definitely lost a few pounds and your body was trembling.

‘I-’ he stuttered. He tried to explain to you how you were his world and there was no way he would let any woman destroy the strong bond you had, but he couldn’t. He was stuck in his own words and he was terrified he would lose you because of it.

‘I love you with all my heart, but I can’t keep doing this to myself. It leaves more damage than it does good. It’s okay if you fell out of love or if your preferences have changed, but just tell me. Please,’ you pleaded, the volume of your voice lowering with every word you spoke. Tears cascaded down your cheeks as you tried to work this out, but he just stood there. No emotion on his face, no moving towards you, no words. You sadly nodded and lowered your head.

‘It’s okay. I’ll go,’ you whispered. ‘Just know that nothing has changed for me. I still love you the same as I did before. If you change your mind, you’ll know where to find me.’

You turned around and tightly squeezed your eyes shut, hoping with all your heart he would come running after you and hold you close ‘till the sun came up. But he didn’t. You wandered around the mansion you two lived in until you arrived in the garden. On the right there was a little cottage. It was your favourite part of the whole house. It had a big bedroom, a little living area, a kitchen and a bathroom with a bubble bath and sauna.

You smiled at the faint memories you’d shared with Andrès here. Dining with lit candles around you, sitting in the sauna, making love in the bubble bath and cuddling in bed. It was your safe haven. You went here to clear your head or just to be alone and work on your book. 

Sighing, you closed the door behind you, shut the blinds and ran yourself a hot bath. You knew you didn’t have to pack your bags, because something inside you said that he would come around. You sunk in the bathtub and turned on the bubbles. You closed your eys and bubbles away until the water turned cold. After you dried yourself off and put on your pyjama’s, you dove in the bed and dozed off into sleep.

-

The next morning you were awoken by a knock on the door. You groaned and burried yourself deeper in the mattress. The knocking continued and you heard the voice of Greta, one of the maids in the mansion.

‘Darling? Breakfast is ready,’ she softly called through the door. You sighed and carefully opened your eyes. You loved Greta. She was an elderly woman, one you’d see in the movies, with snow white hair, dark red lips and big glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose. You loved her to death. She was like a grandmother to you and whenever you had a question or needed advice, she had the answer.

You got off the bed, put on your robe and glasses and went to the door. You unlocked it and was met by the elderly woman smiling sadly at you. She knew you would only come to the cottage when you weren’t feeling great, so she knew exactly what had happened.

‘Again?’ she asked and all you could do was nod your head. You felt ashamed and stupid. This had happened so many times already, you truly couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you still tried your hardest with him.

‘Thank you, Greta. I can’t remember I requested breakfast, though,’ you frowned, taking the tray from her that displayed all your favourite foods.

‘Andrès requested it. He knew you would be here,’ she said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. It took everything in you not to start crying again. ‘He also wanted me to give you this. Stayed up all night writing it for you. He didn’t sleep.’ She handed you an envelope with the words ‘My dearest’ written on top of it.

You sighed, ‘What do I do, Greta?’ She smiled softly at you and you could see the little twinkle in her eyes.

‘You know what to do, darling. If you need anything, just call and I’ll be here,’ she said, kissing you on the cheek and turning around to leave. You watched as she disappeared inside and you closed the door. You set down the tray on the bed and hesitated to open the letter. Was is really worth going through this again? You opened the letter and read it.

To my dearest Y/N,

Words cannot explain how sorry I am. I hurt you in a way I never wanted to hurt you and I can never forgive myself for that. I betrayed your trust multiple times and I want you to know that I am incredibly sorry for doing that. All this time I thought I needed to earn my validation from others, when all I truly needed was yours. I didn’t see what I had right in front of me and by doing that I hurt you. I see now that you have always accepted me for the way I am - my good and bad side. You’ve seen me at my best and my worst. You keep me sane and stay with me in my darkest hours. You never complain about how I wake you up in the middle of the nigh or how I always leave my underwear spread around the room. I’m sorry for not seeing how incredible you are. I’m sorry for not appreciating you enough. I’m sorry I’m not the man you deserve. I hope you can forgive me and give me one last chance to prove to you how much you mean to me.

I love you with all my heart.

A.

Tears welled up in your eyes. Never had Belin been so vulnerable and open to you. It showed you he really was trying his hardest this time. Times before he just got you a bunch of roses and that was his apology, but this time it was really different. He was sincere.

You munched your breakfast and changed into the summer dress you wore yesterday. You made the bed, brushed your teeth and left the cottage, taking the tray of now all-eaten food with you. When you were just about to enter the house again, you saw him sitting on the terrace, a glass of red wine sitting next to him while he held his head in his hands. You placed the tray down gently and approached him. He didn’t seem to notice you as you sat down beside him.

‘Why choose me?’ you asked him softly, not trying to scare him. He tensed up when he heard your voice and slowly lifted his head. He didn’t look at you, he just stared into the distance. His eyes were puffy and you could tell he hadn’t slept.

‘Sometimes.. there isn’t really a reason. There’s just this feeling burning inside of you when you catch someone’s eye or hold their hand. It..’ he sighed, trying to come up with words that would make sence. He usually knew exactly what to say and how to say it, but now he just blocked. ‘It feels so right. The moment I saw you for the first time, you looked so stunning. Not because you wore a fancy dress or had your hair done nicely, but because you were you. You never once changed yourself. You were just this twenty year old that lived her life exactly the way she wanted to live it without any regrets and living like there was no tomorrow. I instantly fell in love. My mouth dried up and my heart beat out of my chest.

‘When I went to talk to you, you saw right through me. You knew exactly what kind of man I was, but you made it your mission to break through those walls and find the real me. You did one hell of a job for that one, princess. You showed me that I’m not just this ladies man with a constant need for attention and drive for sex and money,’ he chuckled. He turned around and looked at you. He bit the inside of his cheek - something he did when he was nervous.

‘I don’t mind the sex part, though,’ you whispered, making him chuckle and you giggle.

‘What I’m actually trying to say is that I’m sorry for everthing I’ve done that hurt you. I was a dick and didn’t realize how much you mean to me. You know we’re supposed to be together. I knew the first time I saw you and you know it too. I know you do.’

You let his words sink in. You could feel his heavy heartbeat next to you so you placed your hand over his, on his knee.

‘I forgive you. Just please promise me you’ll try to talk to me more. I feel like I hardly know you anymore. I’ll be here for the rest of your life if you want me to, but don’t push me away,’ you pleaded. He could see your eyes filling with tears again, so he quickly wrapped his arms around you.

‘I promise, princess. I will never let you go again.’

.. .. .. .. ..

Berlin Taglist

@nkjktk​ - @michaellangdonenthusiast​ - @hamiltonsofcrap​

[arofili]

how’d u get into writing? like, writing fic and being part of the silm community, being Known, that stuff? i’m really new to being a silm cc and i’d love to know ur advice! also: how’d u build up the confidence to start posting meta/hcs? bc i have a Lot of hcs and meta ideas but also i’m really anxious abt posting them bc yknow anxiety is like that

these are some great questions, anon! I’m gonna go through them one by one :)

how’d u get into writing?

not to be like, super cliche, but I’ve...kind of always been a writer? as long as I can remember I’ve been telling stories, and when I was too young to read or write I would dictate them to my mom, who would type them up for me and help me choose clipart illustrations to accompany them. when I got old enough I would always be writing; I attempted my first novel at age 9, and while that never really went anywhere I did finish the darn thing and it had some pretty sophisticated plot twists for a 9-year-old!

like, writing fic

around the same time I got into fandom! I was deep into Warrior cats (like. really deep) and I believe I started writing my first fics when I was like? 10 or 11? my memory is kind of fuzzy on the order of things, but I know I got an account on the Warriors forums when I was 9, and that I was already posting my fic there when I made my FFN account. I believe I was 12 when that happened, but who knows. I haven’t the faintest idea of what happened with those forums, but uhhh pretty much all of my Warriors fic is still up on FFN lmao. you could probably find that if you want to but um...maybe don’t?

my first Big Fic was a self-insert of...my entire 5th/6th grade class into the then-current timeline of the Warriors books...well. I honestly think that might still be my most popular fic of all time l m a o though I try not to think about it because Hashtag Cringe. though as much as I look back on that time with a “yikes,” I am very grateful for the Warriors fandom in a way? that place was so accepting and encouraging of OCs, of AUs, of completely disregarding canon, of worldbuilding that is completely alien from canon - it was a fantastic sandbox to begin with, there were so many ways to write stories and practically all of them were accepted and had fellow fans invested in them!

and being part of the silm community, 

soooo I wrote Warriors fic until my freshman year of high school (wow sdjfhkdsjfh), which was when BOTFA came out, and I was absolutely wrecked by the ending and immediately started writing my own fixit fic. I was also super hooked on Kiliel! so that was my intro to the Tolkien fandom; and simultaneously, I joined tumblr, and, well, the rest is history tbh.

I honestly do not remember when I first read the Silm, but I kind of got into the more obscure parts of the Tolkien fandom through fandom osmosis, and I do have a vague memory of doodling the Finwean family tree in geometry class so it might have been later on in freshman year? that was also the same time I was having my Queer Awakening, and Russingon definitely contributed to me unlearning my internalized queerphobia, so probably around then.

anyway - queer awakening, tumblr, Tolkien, transitioning from FFN to AO3 - all of that was happening around the same time. I know I dipped my toes in the Silm fandom then, but I was still primarily a Hobbit fic writer focusing on Kiliel. toward the end of high school I kind of shifted to LOTR and (qp) Gigolas...but somehow the Silm fandom is the most active of the Big Three within the Tolkien fandom, and I was getting dragged further and further in.

it wasn’t until @backtomiddleearthmonth 2019, my freshman year of college, that I really dove into writing Silm fic! I picked some Silm-specific bingo cards and never looked back :D that was really not all that long ago but I am obsessed in a way I don’t really remember being even with TH/LOTR, I obviously cannot see the future but I anticipate hanging out here for a long time. the Silm fandom is great overall and there’s just so much material to work with!! <3

being Known, that stuff?

so I don’t really have a whole lot of context on how “well known” I am in the fandom?? definitely within the past year and a half or so I’ve noticed that I like, get asks like this, and get a significant amount of notes on my posts, and I’ve made a lot of fandom friends especially since I joined some Silm servers on Discord (hmu if you want invites; I’m on the SWG server and 2 general Silm servers and the Russingon server) this past year. and I have 3,000 followers as of this month - and while ever since I hit 1k I don’t particularly pay attention to my follower count I can definitely say that I have more engagement now than I used to! but it took me a long time to build this “audience,” I suppose; I’ve been around the Tolkien fandom since late 2014, so nearly 6 years of this, lol.

really the best way to build a following, in my experience, is to just post a lot of stuff. when I started making edits I got a lot more engagement, because for a long time I would post one every day! (I made them in batches and queued them; I didn’t actually make one every day lol...and now I’m too busy to do that, so I just make edits for events and whenever I feel like it) And I have [checks ao3] 145 works in the Silm fandom as of today - I’m fairly prolific! I’ve come to generally expect 3-10 comments on most of my oneshots, which is a lot more than I used to have back in the day. consistency and quantity are more likely to attract people to your work - and quality, of course.

also: how’d u build up the confidence to start posting meta/hcs?

I’ve been writing since I was very young, and I’ve been writing fic for like...11 years? I think? in that time I’ve produced a lot of garbage, but imo most of that was in my Warrior cats phase, so I came into the Tolkien fandom with confidence in myself and my writing. I’m also working on original fiction on the side (I hope to eventually become a published fantasy author, but right now school takes up most of my time that I don’t devote to fandom, which gives me more immediate gratification and also is just Very Fun) and I know I’m a good writer.

basically, I’ve been doing this for like...half my life, and I’m still fairly young, so I’ve had time to build up my skill and confidence and I know I’m only going to get better with time. you will get better with practice. like I said, I’ve written a lot of terrible stuff, and it’s only through sucking for a long time that I’ve gotten to the point I am now. and I am far from perfect; I know I still have lots of room to grow!

for meta and headcanons specifically, I started with writing fic, and then when I didn’t think I could stretch something into an entire fic I would just make a hc post. I have a vivid memory of writing my first meta in a notebook during driver’s ed because it was so goddamn boring and I had Thoughts about Tauriel and Thranduil!

in my experience, meta comes from having Opinions and wanting to share them and most importantly to back them up - you need to have sources! you need to have reasons! you need to have justification! otherwise it’s not meta, it’s a headcanon or an AU. which is fine!! I love hc/AU!!! but they are not the same as meta, and I’m a stickler for being accurate when it comes to meta. if you have sources and shit to back you up, that will help you build the confidence to share your meta.

sharing disinformation and passing it off as meta instead of just coming out and saying this is a headcanon/baseless theory/AU or whatever is such a fandom pet peeve of mine; it’s not bad for something to not be Accurate! you just have to have that disclaimer - and even when you’re writing meta, you’re offering an interpretation of the text, and you need to acknowledge that other interpretations also exist and are valid.

um. I hope this answers your questions? and sorry for basically word-vomiting my entire life story, lol. this post got long; the main reason I’ve written so much fic is because I really just cannot shut up for the life of me. sooo if you can tear of that filter of being shy and just. say shit. you can go so far~!

OH and one more thing - I can’t believe I almost forgot this - but part of being a writer is participating in the community. this is code for LEAVE A DAMN COMMENT IF YOU LIKE A FIC. that’s how I made most of my fandom friends before Discord! I follow @ao3feed-silmarillion and stalk that blog for new Silm fics; I read the ones that interest me and comment on them.

I know this is not really the most common way for folks to find fic but it’s so rewarding to interact with new fic, new writers, new commentors, new stories - you can find gems that don’t rise to the top of the kudos/bookmark lists; you become friends with your fellow writers; you can watch people grow and change; you support smaller content creators. yeah, you might not be getting Just The Best Stuff, but it’s so so so worth it!!

and if you make friends in the comment section of other people’s fic - I guarantee you some of them will go to your AO3 profile and check out your fic, too! and they’ll leave comments! this is a fic community, and that’s what I cherish about fandom most of all, tbh.

anyway - again - sorry for rambling so much, but I hoped this helped! feel free to send in another ask, or to come talk to me off anon if you’d like! and definitely send me your stuff if/when you decide to share it; I would love to support you!!! <3

[cheemers-writing-archive]

A Hairy Situation

Request: Could we maybe get a scenario with the Stardust Crusaders if they were turned into animals?(like what animal they would be, and how they'd adapt to having to run around on 4 legs or fly with bird wings) If you're up to it, of course.

Requested by: anon

Enjoy!

Joseph was slowly waking up from his involuntary nap, groaning. Whatever had happened, he hoped it was nothing too crazy. Although, considering that the slumber was induced by a Stand, he dropped those hopes down by a lot. He put a hand on his head, as if he was having a headache. At least, he put a limb on his head. Definitely not a hand, or an arm, or a foot, or any human body part. Even stranger, the limb felt… soft. Soft and feathery. Actually, now that he was looking at it, it was feathery. There were literal feathers on his limb. Now that he realized it, his mouth felt weird, too. Gently stroking it, the mouth felt all too strange to be human. It was like a beak.

Wait a minute. The feathers, the beak, it was all adding up. Joseph looked down at his feet to see bird-like claws. Encasing his body were colorful feathers, the main color being red. He was a parrot!

Surveying his surroundings, Joseph saw that he wasn’t the only one. A wolf with mainly black fur, a red-furred monkey, a grey cat, and a brown owl had replaced the four others in the team.

“Finally, the old man’s awake,” the wolf, still with Jotaro’s voice, groaned.

“We can still talk?” Joseph asked.

“That seems to be the case,” the owl, in Avdol’s voice, answered. “Or maybe, since we’re all animals, we can understand each other but not human dialect.”

“It’s the latter,” Iggy sighed. “Now I have to deal with you talking in my language.”

“Iggy,” the monkey, Kakyoin, said, “did you see which way the Stand user went?”

“What do I look like, your teammate?” Iggy rolled his eyes, settling down for a nap in the sand. “Go find him yourselves.”

“He’s a stubborn mutt, even when we can talk to him,” Polnareff, the cat, grumbled.

“You better watch your mouth, Polpol,” Iggy retorted, “because dogs like chasing cats, and this dog can outrun any cat in the Bronx.” Iggy licked his lips and let his eyes have a predator-like glare.

“You’re… you’re just joking, right?” Polnareff nervously chuckled, slowly backing away, his back arching up.

“I don’t know,” Iggy shrugged, “am I?” Without warning, he jumped up from his spot and ran straight for Polnareff.

“He wasn’t joking!” Polnareff screamed. “He’s gonna kill me!” He started to run, but faceplanted into the ground since he didn’t have good footing with his new body.

While the poor cat was spitting out sand, Iggy rolled over in laughter. “You should’ve seen the look on your face! Priceless!” he cackled.

“Very funny,” Polnareff shook the sand out of his fur. “Can’t you go just twenty four hours without bullying me?”

“Look, can we just go after the Stand user now?” Jotaro asked impatiently. “Iggy scaring Polnareff was funny and all, but I want to walk on two legs again.”

“Jotaro’s got a point,” Kakyoin added. “I don’t like being a monkey.”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Joseph started flapping his wings, but only got a little traction before falling to the ground again. “Let’s all split up and look for this guy. We’ll cover a lot more ground that way. Plus, what else could he do to us? We’re already animals.”

“I agree with Mr. Joestar,” Avdol said. “Usually, we should stick in groups, but who knows what we’ll do to each other if we go feral?”

“Then it’s settled,” Joseph declared, trying out his wings again and succeeding this time. “I’ll take to the skies, and you guys split up in whatever way you need to.”

And with that, everyone went their separate ways, searching for the Stand user.

Jotaro was having some trouble on four legs. Not exactly that it was hard to balance on (although it was a little bit), but more that it was humiliating, with his rear end sticking out for everyone to see. It made him feel better that no other humans could see him, but considering all the amount of animals that didn’t belong in the desert, he assumed that he and the other crusaders weren’t the only people affected. That also boosted his confidence a little bit, because everyone was going through the same thing he was.

“Huh. Some poor guy got turned into a squirrel,” Jotaro said to himself. For some reason, the thought of a squirrel was sending his brain into autopilot, desperately trying to take over the front of his brain. He shook his head, knocking the canine instincts out of him. “That was weird,” he muttered. “Most likely it’ll happen again. This time I’m prepared for it, though.”

Kakyoin was having an okay time, the only problem being that he had no clue what to do with his tail. It would just spaz everywhere.

“Excuse me,” he asked a panda, “did you see a man pass by here? Probably strange-looking? And human?”

“I didn’t, sorry,” the panda answered. “Are you trying to stop him?”

“I’ll do everything in my power to,” Kakyoin promised. Then, strolling along, he started to notice something. Multiple animals were standing on two legs, and much taller than they should be. As he proceeded further, he noticed that he was doing the same, too. In fact, the longer he walked, the more human he looked, up until he was himself again.

“Strange,” Kakyoin muttered. “I must’ve reached the user’s range limit. So, the closer you get to him, the more animal-like you become. But all of us, we were nowhere close to him, yet we were fully animal. That can only mean, the closer you get to the user, the more animal-like you become, first physically, then… mentally!”

Kakyoin dashed back into the Stand’s radius, not caring if he turned back into a monkey. He had to warn his friends!

Joseph has finally gotten the hang of flying, which was a relief. He was scanning the area, but no Stand user was in sight. In fact, the only thing he noticed as he was going further and further down the streets was that there were no people. Anywhere. That, and the animals that lined the streets seemed to be getting more and more feral. The farther he traveled, the more he could feel his brain acting up, meaning he had to be going in the right direction. Now that he thought about it, he wondered how far he could fly up before he turned human again? No, that was a bad idea. If he lost control mid-flight, it would be a deadly landing.

Wait, what was that just now? Joseph could have sworn it was a human. And if there was only one human, then that must be their Stand user! Quickly diving down, he opened up his beak to try and bite the enemy. However, as he dove down, his brain started acting weird. He no longer wanted to attack this man, this huge, menacing creature that could take him out in one hit. Instinct took over, and he turned the other way to fly back to safety. But before he had the chance to do that, a hand wrapped around his body and threw him in a cage.

“Poor, dumb bird,” the man laughed as Joseph thrashed about in his cage. “Didn’t think about the fact that your animal instincts would change as you got closer to me? It’s too late now, though. I’ve got you, Polnareff, Jotaro, Kakyoin, and Avdol. Now all that’s left is-”

“Iggy?”

The man turned to the black and white dog, standing in a defensive stance.

“You can’t animalize someone who was already a dog,” Iggy smirked. He had the sand around him form into The Fool, but the enemy only laughed.

“You’re forgetting something,” he said. “Your friends are currently feral. They don’t have their human intelligence. And they’ll attack anyone and anything that threatens them. You, Iggy, could likely be seen as a threat.”

Iggy scoffed. “You think I care about them? I was forced to be on this journey against my own will! I just want to fix everyone else so they don’t try to attack me and waste my time.”

“Good luck with that,” the man chuckled. He cracked open the cages of the crusaders, and they all charged straight at Iggy. The tiny dog rolled his eyes, and had The Fool attack.

Something that Iggy had learned today: just because someone turns into an animal doesn’t mean that their Stand will go away. He was completely unprepared for Jotaro’s Star Platinum, which punched Iggy right in the face.

“Small one in my territory,” Jotaro growled. “Must kill!”

“What kind of an enemy are you if you talk like that?” Iggy asked. Of course, he didn’t get an answer, just some angry oras. Iggy put up a defensive wall of sand, but Star Platinum was getting uncomfortably close to breaking through it. While the barrier was still up, Iggy ran to hide under The Fool, in hopes of fending them off for a while. However, he wasn’t prepared for Joseph to fly under the belly of the Stand, reaching out with Hermit Purple.

“Predator spotted,” Joseph cawed. “Will scare away!”

Iggy thankfully dodged just in time. He could sense another animal sneaking up on him from behind.

“This time I scare the dog!” Polnareff cackled. Iggy whipped his head around, giving Polnareff a deadly glare, with a growl to match it.

“Nevermind!” Polnareff said as he ran away.

As Iggy was chuckling to himself, he was almost burned by Magician’s Red.

“Hey!” he shouted. “I need these legs!”

“Then I guess it would be okay for me to attack the rest of your body,” Kakyoin replied. Iggy blocked the emeralds barraging toward him with sand with ease.

“You can talk?” he asked.

“Apparently so,” Kakyoin replied. “It seems to me that I have a more fluent language than the rest of these guys.”

“So that means you don’t want to kill me, right?” Iggy chuckled nervously.

“Are you kidding me?” Kakyoin laughed. “My one goal in life is to kill you!”

Iggy sighed. “Well, if you guys are too far gone, I guess there’s nothing left for me to do except fight back.”

Of course, fighting back was easier said than done. Even though Iggy had scared Polnareff, the cat was still attacking The Fool with his Silver Chariot, as was everyone else. Iggy would attack, but it took insane concentration for him to just be able to block all of the attacks coming his way. If he attacked, that mental energy would go to offense and not defense, which wouldn’t normally be a problem, except that five feral animals with Stands had surrounded him.

“Give up, Iggy!” the enemy laughed. “You’re surrounded!”

“No, thanks,” Iggy smirked. “The one thing I hate more than this group of idiots is stuck-up people like you, thinking they rule the world.”

While Iggy was preoccupied talking to the enemy, Jotaro snuck up and sunk his teeth into the little dog. His heart was pierced through, ribcage shattered, and lungs destroyed, so much so that he started coughing up sand.

Sand?

“Little one no taste good,” Jotaro said as he spat out small grains. Iggy, laying on the ground, started to become discolored, and his dead body disintegrated before becoming a pile of the dry desert soil.

“What?” the enemy cried out. “Wh… h… what happened to Iggy?”

“I’m right here,” Iggy, who was now right behind the enemy, said. “You didn’t notice that Iggy was a fake decoy?”

“Why, you…”

“Now, it’s time for me to listen to my animalistic instincts,” Iggy laughed. “Say goodbye to your hairline!”

While the enemy was busy trying to pry Iggy off of his head (to no avail), the rest of the crusaders slowly morphed back into their human form.

“See?” Joseph said. “Iggy would come in handy one day!”

“I still have sand in my mouth,” Jotaro griped.

“But at least you’re not a wolf anymore,” Kakyoin replied.

“And I’m not a cat, anymore, either,” Polnareff sighed. “Thank goodness. Iggy almost killed me twice.”

After Iggy left the enemy passed out and completely bald, he looked back at Polnareff, with a dangerous glint in his eye. Polnareff took that as an invitation to a head start to getting away from the dog and bolted away, screaming.

“Looks like some things never change, no matter what species you are,” Avdol chuckled. “Come on, we need to get back and rest. It’s been a tough day.”

“Guys! Help! Help me!” Polnareff shouted. Everyone looked over, and burst out in laughter.

“Now we just need to find Dio’s mansion,” Jotaro said.

[queenxxxsupreme]

I loved your head cannon about what having Getalt’s baby would be like. After reading it my brain immediately went what if it turned out to be triplets. That sounded like it could go a bunch of different ways. Can you make that happen please? And if you do can you put one daughter in the mix? I feel like there could be some comedy there. Please and thank you! Have a blessed life!

A/N: Thank you so much, anon!!! I hope you’re happy and safe and healthy! Alos yes, I’m using the baby names I’ve used before. No, I don’t think I really care. They are cute names. Fight me :)

-The White Wolf was already nervous and anxious about having one child, but THREE? ALL AT ONCE?

-Doubts about his ability to be a good father had plagued his every thought since learning that you were bearing his child. When he learned that you were not only pregnant with one of his children but three, the doubts grew considerably.

-What if he gave one child more attention than the other two? What if they came out identical and he couldn’t tell them apart? Would you be angry with him or upset if he couldn’t tell which baby was which? What if you both struggled to take care of all three infants? You were only two people, a witcher and a human. What if this caused problems for you and Geralt? What if you grew distant?

-You knew how doubtful and pessimistic the witcher could be so you did your best to correct his negative thoughts every chance you’d get. 

-”Love, there’s no reason to worry about mixing them up.”“But I don’t want to hurt their feelings, dove.”“Geralt, you’ll have plenty of time to figure out which is which. They won’t remember you calling them the wrong name until maybe three years from now. While their infants, it’s okay.”

-He didn’t agree with you but he did his best to try to understand you.

-”Y/N, what if they’re all boys?” He would ask questions like this late at night when he’s laying in bed with his head resting  in your lap, his hand rubbing your swollen stomach.“Then gods help us all.” You’d giggle softly, brushing your fingers through his hair. “I’m serious, Y/N.” He’d grumble, tucking his nose into your stomach and closing his eyes. “What if they’re all girls? They’ll look the same!”

-He learned that he slept better when he was as close to you as possible and where he could hear and feel the unborn beings inside you. It brought him great peace to be able to hear their soft and steady heartbeats.

-However after you had the triplets, sleep wasn’t really something either of you got. One baby would be asleep and another would cry. Or one would start to cry and wake the others.

-Geralt was far better at staying awake than you. He’d gone years with limited sleep and even after settling down with you, he didn’t sleep well.

-The triplets ended up being two boys and a girl. All had wispy silver hair and piercing eyes. 

-The girl, you decided to name Lana. She was the fussiest of the three newborns. She was the one who would start crying and the boys would follow behind her.

-You’d wake up to find Geralt sitting at the table in the kitchen with the two boys, Bram and Tomek, in his arms and Lana in a bassinet. He’d be using his foot to rock the bassinet and keep Lana content and quiet. 

-Yennefer was glad there were three babies. This made it so that there were enough babies for you, Geralt, and Yennefer herself to hold one child each. 

-Jaskier was absolutely over the moon. Three children?! 

-“Geralt, can I teach them to play my lute?”“Ask Y/N.”“Y/N? Love, can I teach them to play my lute?”“They’re only a week old, Jaskier.”

-When you and Geralt are alone in your home with the children, you can see how he struggles. He’s doubtful of his abilities to be nurturing and fatherly. He’s afraid to move too quickly and harm the tiny infants. He’s afraid to touch them. His hands are always too cautious and steady. 

-He’d lay them down as slowly as possible, too scared to chance putting them down too fast and too hard. 

-You’d catch him talking to them often. 

-“No, no. There’s no need to cry, Lana, love.” 

-“What the hell am I doing?”

-“Fuck! Tomek, you’re going to roll off the damn bed.”

-He’d never speak louder than a murmur, even when he was speaking sternly. It was always a whisper, like he was scared to hurt their ears. 

-“Why the hell couldn’t we have just one first, Y/N?” He’d grunt when things were frustrating him. He couldn’t get one of the babies to quiet down, their shrill screams piercing his ears. He couldn’t change the babies properly. He could get them wrapped in their blankets properly. 

-“Love, you have to have patience.”“I have patience.”“Stop and take a deep breath. Remember that there is no rush. You don’t have to hurry.”

-Once in a great, great while Geralt would become frustrated with himself. When he couldn’t quiet the boys down with his voice like you could. The only one who seemed to fall asleep when Geralt was talking to him was Lana. He wasn’t sure why this was so but it upset him. Was his voice too deep for the boys? Did he sound too scary?

-This led to even more questions and self doubt. If they thought he was scary now, what would they think when they grew older? When they could see him properly? What if they learned of what he was?

-”Geralt, love, there is absolutely no need for you to worry about that. They will love you for being their father.”

-Having three toddlers all at once is as horrifyingly amazing as one would think. None of them want to keep their clothes on and they constantly talk to each other, even if the words don’t make complete sense. There was always some sort of trouble they were getting themselves into.

-Jaskier proves to be the favorite. He never tells them no and always brings treats when he visits. 

-Lana is a daddy’s girl without a doubt. If she had to choose between you and Geralt, she’d throw herself into Geralt’s arms without a second thought.

-The boys love their father too. They enjoy that he’s strong enough to throw them into the air and catch them and to climb on like he’s a tree.

-This was their favorite thing to do. Even if Geralt would be standing talking to someone, Bram would start to climb up him, grabbing on to Geralt’s clothing and even his hand, tugging and begging to be put up high on his father’s shoulders. This usually led to arguments between Bram and Tomek. 

-“Daddy, I want up!” Tomek would make grabby hands at Geralt, frowning more than needed.

-“No, daddy! Me! Me! Me!” Bram bounced up and down, tugging at Geralt’s shirt. 

-More often than not, the kids had the ability to make their intimidating and scary looking father look more approachable. 

-You remember when you and Geralt had taken the children for a walk outside of the village. You decided to take Roach, knowing that by the time you’d be heading back home, the kids would be tired. 

-Geralt held the reins to Roach in one hand while he carried Lana on his shoulders and held on to Tomek’s hand with the one not holding Roach. Bram walked alongside you behind the others, holding your hand and swinging it back and forth. 

-A group of kids had walked up to Geralt, stopping him in his tracks. 

-“Can we pet your horse, mister?” One of the little girls asked, not shying away from looking up at your husband. 

-He didn’t know how to react. Before the triplets, children stared at him and kept their distance. Their parents would tell them stories of the witcher that lived on the edge of town. They’d tell the children never to look him in the eyes and that if they misbehaved, the witcher would come for them while they slept. 

-But upon seeing that the witcher had children of his own, the kids started to think differently.

-Having a family changed many things about the way others viewed him. He was no longer seen as this murderous monster of a man with no feelings, but more as a normal being with a family he so desperately cared for and cherished. 

Taglist: @riviawitch3r @notyouraveragemochii @dev1lbella @rosyghosty @merendis @lalalalemonade11 @wayward-dream @whatanicepanohthatsjustme @tshuuls @havenoffandoms @queen-sands @crazzyter @katiejmac @bucky-did-nothing-wrong @jennylovelyheart @stretchkingblog97 @itsallyouhavegotinsideyourhead @hm-fck @mactho @msgeorgiarae @tragicmisfits @randomzxx @alwayshave-faith @rahdaleigh @lizliz3107 @turtlefordestiel @d14n4ol @asix122747483 @minervalavender @agniavateira @hina-chans-stuff @dressed-up-heartbreak @persephonehemingway @bitterstar88 @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @ayamenimthiriel @romancebibliophilia @jessevans @xoxoarts

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from anon. Finally wrote this. Lots of fluff and tears coming your way!

Words: 2634 Warnings: fluff

It wasn’t too bad, living on Sakaar. If the Grandmaster liked you—and he did—you could live the luxurious life you would have never imagined. In return, you worked for him and collected slaves like cattle to sell and keep his lunatic ruling going.

If anything, the Grandmaster was a convenience you had to deal with. Your life on the trash planet made up for it and then, maybe, once you had earned enough money, you would be able to travel the nine realms and settle somewhere else. You could not put your finger on why but you had always had a fascination for Asgard. The shiny, golden realm… reminded you of something, almost as if something was waiting there for you.

You smiled at the thought. All you needed now was a gem. A precious victim one of the ugly wormholes in the sky spat out and into the landmines for you to pick up and sell the Grandmaster as another gladiator. In the past week, three of which you had brought him died fighting that green monster. You needed someone special. Someone like… him.

You heard him grunt in pain before you saw him, emerging from in between two piles of trash and debris. But when you lay your eyes on him for the first time… your heart seemed to skip a beat, your lips parting underneath the cloth you wore to shield your face.

Like an invisible force, something appeared to be pulling you towards him, every fibre of your being longing to be touched by him. He looked familiar, his blue gaze… mischievous. The man stood, brushing the dust off his leather trousers and then flashed you a disarming smirk.

“Hello.” He began simply, sending shivers up and down your spine. Pleasant shivers. You were frozen on the spot, paralysed even. His voice… his voice was familiar too. Like you had heard it before. Like it had soothed you and lulled you to sleep before.

You should be acting quickly. Using the obedience disk at hand to fling at him, to render him helpless and drag him straight to the Grandmaster. He looked powerful—intelligent, cunning—like someone who could, if prepared well, defeat the Hulk. Raven hair, tall, not too muscly but well-defined, eagle-eyes. Who knew what other skills he hid.

“Who are you?” You found yourself asking before you could stop yourself. You wanted to get to know him. You needed to get to know him. If anything to find out if he was worth the catch and an audience with the Grandmaster; but mostly because you had to know why he seemed so familiar.

You blinked when you imagined yourself stroking his cheek, your palm resting against his chest to feel his heartbeat.

The stranger’s smirk widened. “I am Loki, of Asgard.”

Asgard. Was this the reason you were drawn to him so much? But then again how could you have known where he was from?

“Loki…” The name rolled off your tongue easily, like you had said it a million times before —crying, laughing, concerned, angry, sad, aroused…

“Who is in charge here?” He asked then, lifting his chin proudly. Lifting your eyebrows, you folded your arms.

“Right now? Me.”

He chuckled. Seriously—he had the audacity to chuckle. What was it that stopped you from throwing one of your obedience disks at him?!

“Oh, I dare to doubt that. Take me to the ruler of this realm. I am the king of Asgard. Tell him I request an audience.” He had stopped panting now, regaining his full charm. You swallowed thickly. It was like his words jinxed you into obeying him, knowing he would never cause you any harm.

But… what was it he had said? He was the king? Was that what your gut feeling had attempted to tell you? He was the gem you had been looking for. Your ticket away from Sakaar and straight to Asgard. You could not possibly hand him in by force. A king was powerful; too powerful—you wouldn’t stand a chance. Besides… if you gained his favour then he might take you back with him.

“Alright… I will take you to him. But I am warning you. The Grandmaster is a lunatic.” You said, beckoning for him to follow you.

“The Grandmaster?”

“Yes. That’s what he calls himself. Nobody knows his real name—if he even has one.”

Loki frowned. “He is not, by any chance, related to the Collector?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know… avoid asking him personal questions. I am (Y/N) by the way.”

Loki went silent, making you stop dead in your tracks. “Did you just say (Y/N)?”

“Yes?” Shaking your head in an almost amused manner, you tilted your head and kept on walking.

His questions did not stop coming the closer you came to the Grandmaster’s residence, stepping over trash and soon, fighting your way through the chaotic city.

“How long have you been here, (Y/N)?”

“I don’t know, a few years maybe?”

“How did you end up here?”

“Bright lights, pain, screaming… aliens and monsters… I was swept off the street and hurled up into the sky before I blacked out. When I woke up, I was here and soon got recruited by the Grandmaster.”

“When? When did this happen? What planet are you from?” Stopping yet again, you spun around quickly.

“Earth. You’re asking an awful lot of questions, Loki.”

He smirked in response, lifting his hands up in defeat. “I am curious by nature. I am the God of Mischief, after all. Surely you have heard of me.” The God of Mischief? You knew the gods lived in Asgard, of course. But the chances…

“Great. You just gave me another reason not to trust you then, Trickster.”

Again, he fell silent, his lips parting slightly. His blue eyes darted to the ground, pondering over something you would only love for him to share with you.

“Come on. We’re almost there.”

 -

Trickster. That’s what you had always called him. Loki was unsure. You could be any woman. Any woman whose name just so happened to be (Y/N), after all. But then there was your voice. There were your eyes and that invisible force within him wanting you close to him.

“My lord…” When she entered the room determined, Loki quickly scanned the situation. Three guards and one right-hand woman, so it appeared. Behind them, huge glass panels he could use as a quick escape if need be. The Grandmaster must indeed have been a relative of the Collector. His appearance was both funky and repulsive as it radiated lunacy like heat. He sat there on his ridiculous moving chair. “Forgive the spontaneous intrusion but I’ve brought someone special. The king of Asgard, one of the nine realms of the Yggdrasil, desperately wished to be introduced to you.”

“King?! Come closer, come closer.” You obeyed, hoping that Loki would do the same.

“So, uh, king of Asgard…”

“Loki, my lord.” You interrupted gently.

“Loki! What brings you to Sakaar?”

“An unfortunate accident, I’m afraid. Yet I must admit that I did not expect stumbling over such an empire. I would be most grateful, Grandmaster, if you granted me your hospitality until I have found a way to return to my own realm.”

He was quick-witted, a silver tongue. He loved compliments. There went your chances of receiving money for a skilled gladiator. You should have used an obedience disk after all.

“Nobody leaves this place, Loki. Sakaar…”—a dapper wave of his hand followed his words—“…is a collection void for all lost and found things. Tell me, uh, Loki, if you’re a king… you must love a spectacle, no?”

“I most certainly do.”

“See, there is this ‘contest of champions’ I hold every week. Gladiators from all over the universe unwillingly fighting each other to death, how does that sound, huh?” The Grandmaster grinned, seemingly pleased with himself.

“That sounds… intriguing indeed.”

“My lovely (Y/N) will show you to your brand new apartment. B32, (Y/N). B32.”

B32… that was the empty apartment next to yours. It was exceedingly luxurious.

You frowned. Finally taking off your cloth so he could see your face properly, you opened your mouth. “Grandmaster, with all due respect, do you truly think it is wise to—“

“Go, (Y/N), we don’t have all day!” He dismissed you by throwing you a key. The key for Loki’s new apartment.

You sighed. Nodding obediently all the while gnashing your teeth, you motioned for Loki to follow you with dismay. But his expression… his expression was odd. It was like realisation hit him, along with incredulity, relief and… affection? All when he first looked you in the face.

Suspiciously, you lead him through the hallway, then unlocked the door with the letters B32 on it and pushed the green button so it would open.

“(Y/N),” he said your name again. He smiled when you turned around to face him—genuinely this time—and approached you slowly. There was only one way now. He had to jump in at the deep end. “You… do remember me, do you not?”

“I’m sorry, what? We’ve never met.” Loki’s face fell.

“Yes. We have. Centuries ago.” He replied quietly.

“What are you talking about?” You were only (Y/A) years old, not an immortal vampire.

“I have roamed all of the nine realms to find you,” he said, more to himself than to you. “I found passageways of which I could have never imagined that they even existed, even Heimdall could not detect them… (Y/N). You must remember me.” Who was Heimdall? What passageways?

With a start, his confident and cheeky demeanour was gone, replaced by that of a vulnerable and tender man.

“Please, (Y/N). My little dove… tell me you remember me.”

Had he lost his mind now? My little dove… the words rang in your ears. His voice, his looks, his eyes, the way he walked, the way he smiled… Had you not imagined Loki being familiar, after all? But that was impossible. How could you forget him then? And how could you even know him in the first place?

“I think you are mistaking me for someone else.”

The God of Mischief slowly shook his head. “Centuries ago, when the mortals still worshipped us as gods on Midgard, I fell for a young woman. She was beautiful, intelligent and about as daring and mischievous as I. Against Odin’s will I took her to Asgard, I showed her all of the nine realms. But time took its toll on her. She died of old age, only a few decades later.”

Compassion spread in your chest. And yet… “Oh… so you fell in love with a mortal. I’m… I’m sorry. But I don’t see what that has to do with me.” But you were getting there. There was something… something you couldn’t quite put your finger on yet.

“You were that woman, (Y/N). You are that woman. You have the same eyes, the same appearance, the same voice. You reincarnated. I searched for you for centuries. When I stopped…” He had stopped searching for you the day he had let go of the shattered Bifrost. Darkness had surrounded his fate ever since.

“You… I… this can’t… I don’t know you.”

“You will.” He insisted, coming even closer—like a predator, he carefully took one step after the other.

“No. Loki, this is impossible. Wouldn’t I recognise you? You must be mistaking me for someone else.”

For just a brief moment, hurt flashed over Loki’s face, your refusal tearing at his tainted heart. Nothing but bad luck had overcome him since the night he had found out he was a Frost Giant. He had been lied to, abandoned, fought, rejected, tortured, used like a puppet, mistrusted, locked away… He had been told his birth right was to die and now he was stranded, his brother blaming him for Odin’s death and Hela’s return.

He was not going to lose you too now. Not after he had finally found you again. Loki had almost forgotten what it felt like to harbour unconditional love for someone, to feel an unconditional desire singeing his skin like fire. None of the women on Asgard had ever piqued his interest after your death.

Without a warning, he lunged forward, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you flush against his body. Warmth spread in your chest, along with that strange magnetic sensation and a rapid heartbeat.

Then, his lips came crushing down on yours, seducing you into the most passionate kiss you had ever experienced. A moan escaping your lips, your eyes fell shut as you allowed his tongue to deepen the kiss and take your breath away, his right hand buried in your hair. Your body took over, like it knew exactly what to do. You dug your nails into his back, pressing your body against him for more contact. You reciprocated the kiss, much to your own surprise. You kissed him like it would be the last time you had the chance to… or like you hadn’t kissed him in… centuries.

You ripped your eyes open immediately, pushing him away firmly. You were breathing heavily, your lips swollen from the affection you had exchanged. Your mind did not remember him. He was a stranger—an oddly familiar stranger whom you had no memories of. But your body and your heart spoke a different language. They remembered. Whatever it was, there was something there. And you were willing to find out what it was.

Loki’s smug smirk returned. He seemed pleased with himself—dazed even. From the kiss, perhaps? Had it flustered him, too?

“If only you knew what pains I had to endure after you passed away.” He swallowed, the composed expression returning to his stunning face. “(Y/N)…”

You were still panting when you regained your ability to speak, swallowing thickly for courage.

“Stay with me tonight. Tell me about the woman. A-about me. Please…” Gone was your suspicious and arrogant behaviour, your attempt into manipulating him to take you to Asgard or sell him as a gladiator after all. You were willing to fall to your knees before him—not in submission but in affection and trust.

Loki nodded, smiling triumphantly.

“Sit with me.”

You obeyed. And then, for the next few hours as it dusked outside, you made yourself comfortable on a pile of pillows and blankets in front of the window, with an odd view over Sakaar and the wormholes now gleaming dangerously in the dark.

The woman Loki spoke about sounded familiar, too. He told you about her habits, her way of speech, her adventurous ideas… all of which you shared. He told you about the pleasure they had shared in bed, about the books she had liked to read and the meals she had liked to cook, the clothes she had liked to wear. The more he told you the more you realised… you were indeed the same person. Loki couldn’t possibly know these things about you. And he remembered every last detail. He was telling the truth. You were a reincarnation of the love of his life.

“You… you really loved her.” You choked out, tears worsening your sight when realisation hit you. He had loved you. Or… a former version of yourself. And suddenly, you felt incredibly sorry you did not even remember him. The God of Mischief reached forward, wiping away the one tear escaping your eye and rolling down your cheek. He smiled.

“I still do, my little dove.”

He would make you remember him. Sooner or later and this time, he would make sure not lose you again. This time was different. He would find a way. He was the God of Mischief, after all.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! kofi.com/sserpente ♥

[thegc4life]

*in Dabi voice* That so? How sad, poor little WyvernSpirit. Hawks with prosthetic legs is a concept that has haunted me too. Maybe above the ankle, but below the knee? Amputation 😔 there I said it directly. Last page of chapter 267, doesn't Hawks' leg look kinda long and weirdly detatched 'cause of the angle and being hidden behind Tokoyami's hand?

    Anonymous said:

    Continuing. Common known fact: When Wyvern gets stuck on a concept they really fall down that rabbit hole hard. - Sincerely, the anon that placed helicopter sound effects over Keigo's feetsies. (Hint: Helicopters are chop-chopping :)

--00--

Okay. OKAY. You lot! ALL of you! Do you know what you have done to me?! I have thought about this, relentlessly! I have nit, I have picked, and I have formulated plans and you have given me horrible, horrible ideas! That I am implementing now because god damn it you’ve infected me with- with the chop-chopness! All of you! 

@stitchthepaleontologynerd I haven’t gotten to your ask yet, it’s coming up boy howdy, but you’re included in this! 

How dare! How daaarrreee!

Now you get to suffer with me! Look at what you’ve done! Look at it!

(For all you lovely doves *side-eyes the wrong-doers* that are not horrible influences, if you do not want any spoilers for Hawks-sensei do not read below the cut. It is a detailing of a trauma I was planning to use but is now so much bigger, so much WORSE, and will pop up in later chapters as the same flashback styles as I’ve had already. Warnings for verbal and emotional manipulation as well as threats of physical abuse. It’s sad. You’ve been warned.)

So...

Originally planned: We all know (unless our minds were tired and blended that one little speech bubble that showed up a total of one time) that Hawks was trained in negotiation tactics, verbal manipulation, and such. Head Canon wise, in the story I was going to have it that as he grew up Hawks could, technically, ask for anything he wanted and get it but he needed to make a compelling argument for why he should be allowed to have what he asked for (hint: he often failed these until he stopped asking for things that were ‘useless’). I was going to hint at this, here and there, to do that slow build horror that is so prevalent in the Hero Commission.

And then Chop-chop happened.

So. Now there is this.

Hawks keeps failing his negotiation training outside of training scenarios. His trainers and the President wanted him to keep asking for things so that he could learn how to manipulate and negotiate at the drop of a hat. But whenever he asked for things it was always ‘silly little things’ like going outside for a bit to fly, or to get something that actually tasted good instead of all gross food he was served for every meal, or to be able to take his Endeavour doll with him to training so that it could watch on and give him encouragement.

You know. Silly things.

He always failed these because he could not come up with a strong enough argument for why he should be allowed to do these things.

So they got... a little mean.

Longer training hours. He was always given the choice of not staying later than usual, so long as he could provide a ‘valid’ argument to his trainers why he didn’t need to work harder. ‘I managed that new aerial trick three times in a row with no mistakes’ he would say. ‘Yes, but you messed up the other one halfway through’ they would say. And he would tell them that it was new, of course he didn’t get it down right away. And they would say, ‘exactly, so we need to train more.’

Eventually, Hawks would get to the point where he would say ‘I need to be able to stretch my body in a certain way to make that move. I should go to my room and practice stretching like that. I will have it perfected next time.’

And they praise him for good thinking and say ‘yes, Hawks, that is a good idea’ and he gets all happy because Praise, and he goes from training with them... to training in his room as though he managed to convince them of anything.

He makes progress. He gets better at speaking, and manipulating, and redirecting. But not fast enough. Not good enough.

So they step it up a bit.

“Your feet’ they tell him. They are unnatural. They affect how you walk, how you stand, they look odd and lethal. He is supposed to be a comforting figure, he can’t be like that if he as talons that could rip off someone’s arm.

They’ll just have to go.

Hawks, understandably, freaks the fuck out. He doesn’t want to have his talons surgically removed. To have his feet braced and wrapped until they were re-formed into a ‘normal’ foot. To have anything they were telling him.

He argues with his trainers. Screams at them for the first time in the two years (because yes, he is still very young) he’s been here. He leaves without permission. Goes to his room. Screams and shakes and holds his Endeavour plush while praying the real thing will come save him.

In comes the President.

‘Hawks,’ she says, long after he has exhausted himself and is just staring blankly at the wall. ‘I heard what happened. You don’t want the surgery, do you?”

And of course he doesn’t, who would want that?

“I understand’ she says, and Hawks believes her because she always seems to understand more than he does but he doesn’t want her to this time because when she understands him she makes him understand her.

Which is exactly what she does.

She tells him why she thinks it is a good idea to get the surgery. While he is exhausted, empty, and numb she tells him all the horrible things in the world people see and how his feet might seem scary. She gives statements, but they seem... weak? They are less substantial than usual.

“The surgery will be next week,” she tells him and he breaks and he breaks and he breaks.

“Unless.”

Unless he can convince them otherwise. Unless he can negotiate. Manipulate. Make them see things his way.

“I want you to be happy, Hawks,’ she tells him, using the pads of her fingers to brush his hair out of his face before she goes and he leans into the warmth and wants, wants, wants. “If you think there is a different way, that there is something that should be done differently, all you have to do is tell us. You’re a smart boy. If you really think your feet are fine as they are, then there must be a reason they’re like that right? You just have to tell us what it is.”

So he tries.

Day one, he fails. They take x-rays of his feet for the doctors to look at while they prepare. ‘I’ll never walk the same’ isn’t a good enough reason when they have specialized physical therapists there to make sure that he will.

Day two, he fails. His handler tells him the time he was scheduled for. Early in the morning, right after he wakes up. “It will slow down my training,” isn’t good enough either. ‘you’re a fast learner’ is praise he always wanted before, and now all it is is a bullet in his lungs.

Day three, he fails. They use a practice dummy to help teach him how he is going to have to wrap his feet when everyone else is too busy to help him. “It’s going to hurt” and “I’m scared” are not the reasons of a hero. He’ll get over it.

Day four, he fails. No one brings it up that day. There is an entry on his calendar though. Circled. Blatant. He doesn’t argue that day. He doesn’t know what to say.

Day five, he fails. He asks his trainers if there is any way for him to use his feet, as they are, as a hero. They tell him they have never worked with avian based quirks before, how could they possibly know if his talons would be useful? He snapped at them, saying they did just fine telling him how to use his feathers when no one else in the world had the same quirk as he did. He had to do extra laps that day, until he was too tired to argue anymore.

Day six, the day before the surgery, the President comes to visit him again. He stayed up all night, even with how exhausted he had been, because this was his last chance.

“I can keep them covered,” he tells her. Tells the room. The faces that hold the decision in their hands. “I have to wear shoes outside anyway, it’s easy to keep them covered. They help me balance in ways most people can’t. It makes me a better fighter. If I run out of feathers, I will still have a weapon. A last resort. I can learn to walk normal. It will be easier to learn with feet I am used to then ones created for me. My toes are flexible and strong. If I train them I can use them in emergency situations to save more people. What if my arms are broken? My feathers gone? I can still use my feet to evacuate people.”

More, and more he talks. He tells them everything he can possibly think of that make his feet an advantage instead of an anomaly. He doesn't’ say ‘I like them’ or that he likes to curl his toes around the bottom bars of his bed when he has a nightmare. He doesn’t tell them that he likes the feeling of the tiles beneath his talons as they ‘click, click’ when he walks. He doesn’t tell them that they help him perch and that he’s afraid if they take them he won’t be able to do that anymore and he doesn’t know if he could handle losing that too.

His trainers look thoughtful. His handler is nodding.

The President smiles.

After everyone has left she gives him a hug. It’s small, and stiff, but he feels like crying.

“I am proud of you, Hawks,” she tells him. “Keep this up.”

And when they talk about his hands, he wins. When they talk about his staring he doesn’t... he doesn't win but he gets a compromise. A visor, to hide his eyes. When they talk about his sharp teeth, he almost loses but then he wins and the President smiles at him again. She doesn't’ hug him, that time, but he’s too old for that now so it’s okay.

When he’s sixteen, he knows he’s gotten really good at it. Because they try to take his Endeavour doll away. And it makes sense, because it’s- it’s a toy. Of course he doesn’t need it when he’s sixteen. He’s surprised they hadn’t tried to take it sooner. But he’d prepared for this, he knew his trainers and his handler well by then and he talked circles around them until they forgot what they asked in the first place. He got them refocused on training, on stats, on preparations and then he made sure it was always out of sight so they never brought it up again.

The President asked him, once, if he still had it. He shrugged, asked about how his results in his last combat simulation were, and she had looked so unimpressed that he knew she had known. But she hadn’t said anything. Because most of the time, if he managed to convince everyone else, she would let him keep something.

And he was grateful.

--00--

Look what you monsters have done. T-T I hope you’re happy! 

Seriously though, you guys just love giving me the angst thoughts. Like, dang. I love and hate it. I still love YOU of course, but I hate the evil thoughts you give me! Please continue! But don’t!