#(hits blunt) mother knows best changed my LIFE

[c0rvidbones]

hello I love your art a whole lot!! tell me more about Wit (he's hot and evil and I require more juicy details) and Ruby (his design goes so hard) please?

oh my god hi i did not expect to come back to 20 notifs. (/pos) youve given me a much needed ego boost tonight thank you. is it bad i cant remember having ever posted ruby art?? ive only ever gotten One comm of him which is a crime, my violent martyr son should rly get more love than i give him 😔 but thank you for asking! buckle up this is gonna be a long fuckin post ♡ everything under the cut including relevant character art

WIT

behold, all art of wit i have including one i havent posted here bc i never actually finished it and the wip of him being a silly giggly boy. pls know i came up with him like MAYBE a month ago. two, tops.

SO wit is actually a what-if au of another oc of mine, his name is doodle. doodle (seen below) is a very robin-hood-esque oc, honorable thief and kindhearted, swashbuckler rogue that dual wields rapiers bc hes insane. but hes insane in like a normal way. he was a horrible child but he did grow out of it and its rare to see him w his hair down so pardon me making him look absurdly pretty in that one.

as you can see there are some (but not MANY) differences between the two. kid wit does have the starry hands/peets im just forgetful dont @ me about it djdjdj

ANYWAYS so the what-if of the au that wit is, essentially, little singular things didn't happen to people in that au world. it goes like so;

wit: never met his childhood best friend when he was a freshly injured orphan. was alone from the (elf) ages of 0-16. ended up studying magic (illusion wizard) since he didn't have someone to lean on for that sort of thing.

laika (wit's mom): never truly broke out of an archfey's madness curse. stuck with a very twisted version of the spell Tasha's Hideous Laughter burned into her mind. everything is funny and if it's scary? even funnier. she died briefly. shes back now, but still madnessed.

perseverance (wit's dad): never saved his mother from a death blow in the be-all end-all fight to save his home. was held back by someone who he thought was a friend, killed that person and then ultimately spiralled so hard that he became a lich. may or may not have accidentally killed laika.

something something one decision can change your whole life, me and my friend loved playing with that concept.

okay now that you know a lil lore/history i can dive into what wit is like.

as a kid (drawn with the short megafloofy hair) he's very mischievous and bastardly, almost always smiling or grinning but it's more to lean into the uncanny valley effect his eyes cause than out of any actual joy or anything. he doesn't Blink and he knows it unnerves people because he also has a freakishly high insight (i think its like a +9 or smth??? at level 9??). he loves to come up with fucked up spells, like. for example i saw a silly post on here the other day that was very jokingly having a wizard cast a spell of "10000 bricks until you die" but then i was immediately aware wit would (1) come up with that spell, make it functional, and have it unfortunately obliterate everyone that gets hit with it, and (2) he would call it Wit's Bricks which i think is fuckin funny. he would also come up with spells of like. cause heatstroke. boil all fluid in your body. FREEZE all fluid in your body. he's a little freak with extremely low empathy for those he isn't connected to with blood ties. that said, he's kind to his family (albeit very blunt and will call them out if theyre being stupid) and inquisitive. he DID look his dad in the eye when he met him for the first time and went "are you dead?" which. again, hilarious, but BRUTALLY blunt. he then called his dad cool because yes his dad is now a lich and therefore undead. he's a little freak but he's still a kid and that is ultimately his saving grace, what small child isn't a little freak.

as an adult (long ponytail) i get a feel of him being aro and using romance as a way to manipulate people. he's definitely still not a good person and far more stoic than he was as a child. also he most definitely maintains a constant illusion to make it seem like his eyes are always closed, which lends an air of mystery to the strange elf that seems to always be standing right behind every throne in every kingdom of faerun. i say this because i like to think he would become what's called a King's Wit, which is like a combo of royal advisor, court mage, and "guy the regent has insult other nobility since insults are beneath the reigning royal". he uses all of that to his advantage, gaining the ear and trust of every single person of noble blood that is part of any royal or ruling court, and he will bend and twist their choices so subtly that they won't realise he led them to ruin until it's already too late. which is his ultimate plan. he's STILL somewhat a robin hood style of character, but he takes it a bit further and with far less kindness to the nobility. he guts their coffers completely and every hoarded coin down to the last copper inevitably will land its way conveniently into the lap of the common folk. he does take a healthy chunk for himself - did you know being a wizard was EXPENSIVE in dnd btw? i didnt until i made wit - but most of it is for the local citizens. he does this everywhere he goes if he sees that it needs to happen. fucker topples kingdoms For Fun, because he never gets caught or credited with the ruin he leaves behind himself. he's awful. he probably still comes up with fucked up spells and he manipulates his way into wherever he wants to be. i love him.

---

RUBY

behold! @polterpumpkin drew my (not very) little guy for me! this is part of a greater set but this is the fully coloured one and arguably my fave bc it captures the absolute batshit energy ruby brings to the table.

ruby is a tiefling that was born in a lab. voluntarily, his parents participated in a sort of study that wanted to eval why it is tieflings could be born to non-tiefling parents. (both his parents are half-orcs, interestingly!) he participated in it up to a certain point, before he got sick of being poked and prodded and Watched. that's when he demanded to be released and, when he wasn't, both his parents helped him escape, unfortunately leaving his other two tiefling-born siblings behind in the process. both parents Died helping him escape, and he was embittered as is by the whole study bs, and then to have his parents die Saving him? it left him with this sort of hole he didn't know how to feel.

so he fills that hole with every vice he finds agreeable. he drinks, he fights, and he drinks again. he's a drunken monk, and one full of unbridled rage and a death wish. he isn't my happiest oc but he isn't my worst off (that would be talisman bloodhunter). he's constantly seeking a grand and worthy cause to die for, literally. he's a wannabe martyr, because he doesn't think he has anything to live for. no lovers, no friends, no allies, MAYBE a coworker or two on the occasion he's needed (he is so not needed most of the time, because it isn't often any job needs an angry monk tief to glare around the place). he has just those two sides to himself - party animal and underground drunk brawler - because he doesn't want to think about the pain underneath them both. he's tragic in a very human way, hilariously enough, but he's not a bad person. even if he's being dragged by the tail to do a job, he's ultimately going to be helpful and he ALWAYS keeps his team alive. he'll grumble about it but he'll do it, and if you thank him he brushes it off, muttering something or other about how it's just his job, don't Thank him for that. i think having a friend would Fix him but fuck if i know what would get past his thick skin 😔

i dont get to play or write ruby really, not for any specific reason other than the dnd games im in have been going for So long, and that i havent really been super inspired to write him. but i love him! literally my car is named after him! i have so many feelings for him and i hope one day i get to play/write him so he can be more fleshed out.

#c0rvidspeaks #ask me about my ocs #and-a-pidgey-in-a-wepear-tree #ruby #wit dalca #oc #i was almost done w this like an hour ago but the fucking APP CRASHED and ate my whole reply #also the tags is where i realise i never gave ruby a last name oh noo

[simplynotcapable]

you've mentioned a few times in s.a.m abt visenya lamenting if she were a man... are there any lives where she was born a man and/or baelon a woman?? i wonder how their respective personalities would manifest if they were a different gender (ie. baelon/baela being another "problem" daughter pfft)

i can definitely see a life where they’re born gender swapped, and i think it would be a really interesting one.

(we’re still going to refer to baelon and visenya as the names and pronouns we know them by, just to keep it from getting twisted up in my head)

honestly i think baelon born as a girl would be a lot like silver and moonstone’s version of visenya. she’s a lot angrier and more intense and more violent than the dragonglass and gold version of herself, and that’s…basically baelon. angry, intense, violent. so much of that kind of gets brushed over when he’s a man because princes kind of just blaze through life with no consequences, but princesses don’t get that same grace.

baelon channels a lot of his emotions into physical stuff—sword play, trying to best the shit out of daemon, etc etc—to work through them. as a woman, there’s just less options for that. it isn’t proper for a princess to be sword fighting or hitting her uncle in the face, so he’s just this ball of furious energy that has nowhere to go.

having to fit into that box of societal expectations for women, having to play nice and be good and stay still…he’d lose his damn mind.

also, considering they’d probably…swap faces, in a way? baelon would be the one who looks like aemma.

baelon, who is so damn angry about his mother’s death and feels all this guilt about it—which would be even worse in this life, because viserys kills aemma in the hopes of getting a second son and is faced with a daughter he has no use for instead—and has so much rage towards viserys because of it. and all he ever hears is how much he looks like his mother??? with none of the ability to be like “i’ll be the best king ever to make her death worth it” like he does in d&g because literally he was useless to viserys as a girl?? he’s going to explode.

i can definitely see him being like Saera Targaryen 2.0, except instead of taking men to bed he’s just like getting into screaming matches with random people and setting things on fire and trying to fistfight god while visenya stands behind him like “therapy hasnt been invented yet just let this happen”

and visenya, well. i’d never describe her as quiet or kind, exactly, but she’s definitely much calmer than baelon is whenever they both exist. she’s very much what anchors him to himself, and he’s what settles her, and that doesn’t change even though they uno reversed each other. largely, she’s the same except for weapons training and a much better grasp of how to run the country.

but as a man, i think visenya has a different relationship with her father. viserys largely ignores her when baelon exists, except to compare her to her mother, and he uses her as a kind of ghost crutch whenever baelon dies, but it’s just kind of different when she’s a boy. he still doesn’t really see her, who she is as a person, but he actually looks at her instead of the dead mother in her face. and visenya doesn’t have the same fixation on their mother that baelon does because, to be blunt, she didnt kill her and she wasnt the reason why she died. she never even knew the lady. it makes everything a lot smoother with viserys than it is when she’s the only surviving twin or when baelon is the son. they’re definitely not close, but visenya’s more…neutral i guess.

they don’t have kids when baelon’s a girl.

visenya as a woman is willing to risk herself and get baelon to face his fears over pregnancy, but visenya as a man is never going to tell baelon he has to risk his life just to give them heirs. baelon says “no thanks, im terrified, hell no” and visenya goes “okay <3” and sends a letter to rhaenyra’s kids telling them to play rock paper scissors for the throne.

when the maester says the twins should separate so heirs can be conceived with someone else, he still dies. visenya gives him a three strike policy though.

it’s difficult to say whether it would be better or worse than the d&g universe, but there’s this: visenya wouldnt have a dragon and so wouldnt be sent to the Stepstones, which means they’re never even separated for war. literally their entire lives just…together. these codependent weirdos have not spent a day apart in their entire lives

#house of the dragon #hotd #ao3 works #dragonglassandgold #silverandmoonstone #hotd fic

[curious-minx]

I don't suckle on Mother, The Pop Maven, instead; I treat her as Friend, Not Foe.

It's silly season. It's TMI season It's unfollow everyone you know from social media season. Yes girlies, Roisin Murphy is not your friend. She's a Narsty Womxn! By Jove, I think she's probably a bit of a meanie and a rude. But my oh my-sweet heavens- she keeps making hell of amazing pop records.

I am alone while my partner goes and celebrates her best friend's one year old birthday. Newborns becoming other borns. The sisterhood of friendship persisting against the diverging lines of womanhood. And here I sit as a cis, twit scum. Wanting to dance with myself in a room with other shiny happy people. Roisin Murphy's newest album Hit Parade is giving me life. An insatiably replayable, playful master stroke of Arty, Dancey Pop. And yet we must get political.

She's only a couple years younger than my own mother. And it chills me to my compressed bones that I have noticed my own mother whom also twiddles away on Facebook, she too, has inherited other opinions about Trans People. It's unfortunate that it seems like older, occasionally bitter women are getting jittery and angsty over matters that don't concern them. And Roisin Murphy despite being a woman, a diva, shedoes not make blunt, political feminist music. But her music is always feminist, subtly subversive and alien. She comes across as a woman comfortably Alone, but not lonely. Making oddball dance fantasias for other lonely sorts. And Hit Parade does not change that. In fact it only enhances that notion. And I choose to believe that the music speaks to a truth deeper than any annoying shared opinion on social media. I believe that this conversation should transcend. "Did I disappoint you? Did I get it wrong? You sent certain signals to me." - Hurtz So Bad

The House. A track that opens with a distorted transmission of a talk show reminding Roisin Murphy that all the host knows is that she is a woman. Always being reminded that you are a woman. You are mother. Despite the fact you don't want to be a Mother. You are a TERF even though when in fact is all you are is an annoying wanker (sometimes, that should stay off of Facebook). If anything I choose to be more mad at The Zuck for making people zonk out, lose themselves in Anger, Confusion and other dumb emotional manipulation. Roisin Murphy is not your friend. She's not Mother. She's probably not much of An Ally. But she's still a hell of a heartfelt, Real Artist making music that ignites all the pleasure call centers in my head. Ring Ring! "Hello, You Are Destined To Live Your Life On Hold." Hit Parade is a tracklist brimming with one bop after another. A totally beautiful mind meld between Murphy and DJ Koze. A stunner that is bigger than the discourse.

#music review #roisin murphy #roisin murphy hit parade #Hit Parade #DJ Koze

[edelweissbarnes]

Hello readers!

it's time to let's some fun kick in!!

Chapter 3 - Fun-day

After the first traumatic evening, life in Asgard turned out to be rather quiet.

The weeks passed quickly and I began to miss my freedom. All that rigidity was making me numb.

"Please Theoric…just this once…" I murmur trying to be convincing, making puppy eyes.

The einherjar, now off duty, barely looks at me before covering his face with one hand and letting out a sigh of defeat.

"You'll be the death of me…" he whispers softly, finally shaking his head in disbelief before I throw my arms around his neck emitting a happy laugh.

"thank you, thank you, thank you!!! you're the best!" I say before running to my rooms to change.

After the first night at the banquet the Allfather decided to leave Theoric's team as my personal escort and since then the einherjar has quickly become a comfort and a friend.

'if the Valkyries find anything out of place they will kill us both…' he whispers under his breath now that we are outside the arena where the warriors and guards train daily.

"oh, please… I just want to watch you wield a sword and maybe learn something..." I reply with a fake but convincing contrite expression on my face.

The poor guy really doesn't know what's in store for him.

With a sigh, he opens the door leading along the column-filled cloister before walking onto the sand of the arena in the centre of the structure. With confident step he approaches the dashboard where the swords, daggers and training spears are stationed.

With a wave of his hand he points to the weapons.

"What do you want to start with?" he asks me in an uncertain tone, I can sense his unease.

"With this…" I murmur, taking a sword with blunt edges in my hands.

"well, the sword….sure, why start with the simple things…" he mutters softly while taking a sword in his turn and then he stands in front of me.

"ok, let's start….I'm your opponent and I'm loading a blow from above…" - he says mimicking the gesture of an attack, slowly lowering his sword in my direction - "to parry the blow, you must bring your guard up with the edge of your sword, otherwise it will be easier for your opponent to disarm you and hit the target…" he murmurs resolutely and calmly.

"Like this?" I reply, mimicking to perfection the defence he explained.

"Exactly," he murmurs nodding.

I smile at him, he's good at explaining and it's easy to see the passion in his words.

I feel like a bad person hiding the truth from him, but no one in Asgard knows that I also fought during the war between Aesir and Vanir, before my mother was 'forced' to spend time as a guest at the Allfather's court.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been weeks since her arrival and the god couldn't help himself but thinks of her almost constantly, but sadly he seen her very rarely because of his duties who took him away from the court.

After returning from a 'diplomatic' mission, the god still feels the adrenalin coursing through his veins and the need to discharge it is pressing.

After weighing up a passionate session between the sheets with two of his favourite courtesans, he dismisses the idea because she is omnipresent in his mind. A grim expression on his face as he now walks down the corridor leading to the Valkyrie arena. No woman has ever had so much power over him, not even Angrboda, who gave him three children. The frustration in his eyes is obvious, and now that he enters the cloister with silent steps, he notices that she is there.

His heart sank in his chest.

He observes her, taking advantage of the shadow provided by one of the columns, thus going unnoticed.

She dresses unusually for the court, yet the god's eyes cannot stop running over her petite but strong body.

Her legs wrapped in trousers of fine Asgardian leather, her arms and torso covered by a white, soft shirt, while a small corset cinches her waist, barely accentuating the curve of her breasts.

Her hair is tied in a soft braid, held to the side on her left shoulder while on her right rests the flat of the sword she holds, nonchalantly.

Her posture suggests to the god that this is not the first time she has wielded a sword, and it is at that very moment that he notices Theoric, one of the Einherjars, with her, showing her some sword techniques.

He shouldn't stay there, but he couldn't move either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a series of further detailed instructions, Theoric created a little routine so that I could practice what he 'taught' me. We proceed with calculated, repetitive, boring blows and defences.

I need more.

"I'm sorry Theoric, but this won't do…" i murmur making a step behind. He is saddened for a moment before he sees me move forward, a half lunge aimed at his side.

With a jump he dodges my blow, staring at me.

"You lied to me," he murmurs, frowning.

"not exactely..." I reply while he raises an eyebrow, with a questioning look.

"what? I'm not a 'sugar and spice and everything nice' kind of princess, you figured out that.." I spat before swinging my sword with a precise, consummate and expert gesture.

" you told me you've never wielded a sword...." Theoric murmurs, bringing both hands to his sides and giving me a glare.

"Wrong...I said I wanted to see you wield a sword..." I murmur softly " don't hold it against me...I couldn't take it...you're the only friend I have here..."I say as a hint of sadness shines through my voice.

He sighs.

" I can't fight with you." He says raising his hands in surrender.

"Oh, come on, please! It's just a sparring match!" I mutter demoralized.

Suddenly footsteps catch our attention, making us both turn towards the source of the noise.

"Looks like someone needs company for a sparring match....do you mind if I join?" The god murmurs softly.

Theoric stands putting me behind him with a protective gesture.

"Loki...you're not welcome here..." he says harshly.

The god chuckles darkly.

I put my hand on Theoric's shoulder urging him to let me speak.

"My lord..." I say bowing slightly my head with an innocent look "It would be an honour and a pleasure...please...do your worst" I conclude with a mischievous smile.

This time his smile is bright. Theoric step outside leaving both of us on the sand.

"Well my lady...it will be a bad thing for your reputation..." reply with a dark glint in his eyes.

"I don't give a damn about my reputation" I mutter.

"Well...if it's so..." he murmurs softly.

As he's giving me a headstart I lunge aiming at his side, with a swift gesture he evade my blow but his hand wraps my wrist.

"Just to be clear...I must restrain myself, little one?" He whispers in my ear with a grin for the double sense innuendo.

"I hope you're not..." I reply turning my face on him while my eyes falls involuntary on his lips. He follows my eyes, noting their direction and I use this distraction as my advantage.

I duck myself under his arm twisting it behind his back, freeing myself from his grasp while I let the sword slip in my left hand, batting the plate of the sword oh his buttocks in a playful gesture and then I let him go.

"So you like to play dirty..." he murmurs turning to see me.

"I like to win...Am I the goddess of victory or not?" I reply slyly.

He faces me with a grin.

"Oh little one...I will have lots of fun with you..." he whispers under his breathe before,with a glint of green seiðr, a couple of training knives appear in his hands.

And like a dance we start sparring.

A series of lunges, parries, feints and successful attacks rose from both of us.

After a frontal parry, he pushes me back hard, using both his fisted hands, causing me to slide backwards on the sand. I crouch down, cushioning the slide by letting my fingers graze the sand, as if to brake my backward movement.

As I stop, now finished on the opposite side of the arena from the god, I look up feeling his green eyes on me.

"Come on darling, I know there is much more...show me..." his voice is caressing, deep, inviting.

I nod and oblige his request letting the palm of my hand touching completely the sand before a series of vines erupted violently from the ground aiming to his figure.

He swiftly dodge every attack taunting me while I stand up.

Suddenly with strong confidence he stood circling back his shoulders while his hair become a raging fire.

An irresistible opportunity.

I have always loved how the Aesir tend to underestimate my people by forgetting about our elemental magic.

With a golden glint I materialise a bucket full of water on the head of the god with the flaming hair, and, with a swift gesture of my hand, I empty it on him extinguishing the fire in his hair.

I look at him, completely soaked and I snort before a full and liberating laugh escapes my lips.

With tears in my eyes from laughing too hard, I do not realise that he has approached until, with a fluid gesture, he loads me onto his shoulder, silencing my laughter.

"Oh no no no..please...I..." I blab before he drops me elegantly into the fountain basin used to water the horses. As I re-emerge spitting out water I give him a mock grim look as he chuckles.

"Now we're even..." he whispers, leaning just towards me.

His smell of spices and burning wood invades my nostrils and suddenly I feel my cheeks flaming.

I lower my gaze and timidly I take the hand he offers me to get me out of the fountain.

"I'm sorry..it was rude from me..." I whisper shyly once out of the water while squeezing the water from my hair.

"Don't worry little one...it was ages that I had fun like that..." he murmurs

"I had fun too..." I reply before he covers me protectively with a cloack and taking me inside to my rooms.

#Spotify #sigyn #logyn #lady sigyn #goddess of victory #loki #loki and sigyn #loki god of mischief #loki god of stories #loki laufeyson #norsegods #sigyn goddess

[chaoticallycosmic]

Meet the love of my life...

Name: Atalanta Rhea Variel Official Title(s): While her mother is Queen and she is the princess of her kingdom, her full title is; Her Royal Highness Princess Atalanta Rhea Variel of Allasegno. When she ascends to the throne it changes to; Her Royal Majesty Queen Atalanta Rhea Variel of Allasegno. Nickname(s): Many of her friends/colleagues call her Lanta, and she will let people know if they can call her that or not. Her grandparents adoringly call her, Ata. Lucian Bole is the only one allowed to call her Lanty. Species: A shapeshifter | witch - meaning she can shift into any animal she wants/chooses. She will have to shift during the full moon. Unlike other shifters though, she can change her eye and hair color at will. She can perform magic with something they call a stele and with hieroglyphics. Age: 30 - 35. Date of birth: June 15. Zodiac: Gemini Orientation: Heterosexual Height: 5'10" Eye color: Naturally hazel-green Hair color: Naturally dark brown General Appearance: Atalanta is tall at 5'10" with a slender build. With her hazel eyes and naturally dark brown shoulder-length wavy hair. Distinguishing Features: Her lips and her ever-color-changing hair and eyes, which are always changing depending on how she feels that particular day, thanks to her shifting abilities. Atalanta can also sprout magnificent wings - a gift from the deity her people call Alpha, the first shifter to ever exist when she was twelve. Tattoos: Atalanta has five tattoos: One on her right arm: reads: Joy, vertically. The second one is almost beside her right breast and it is a crescent moon. The third is on her left foot and it reads Balance - a bit of an inside joke with those who know and her clumsy ways. The last one is on her left shoulder blade - the words Live Free with a picture of seven birds in flight. The fifth is a tiger that spans from her left hip to her left thigh, a tattoo she got with Waverly Greene, her best friend. Birthmarks: There is one on her right shoulder blade in the shape of a crescent moon, which marks her as Alpha's first and only heir. Parents: Elizabeth Nymeria Variel & Jonathan Emeric Variel. Siblings: Aerion Xavier Variel (Older brother). Grandparents: Paternal grandparents; Marie and Wilfred Variel | Maternal grandparents; Alma and Nathaniel Waneta. Friendships: Atalanta's friendships vary, she has very few close friends, however, but she is friendly to almost everyone who is friendly in return. Personality: Witty, carefree but a little cautious, blunt, speaks her mind at all times, honest, not very trusting unless she knows you, loyal, studious, and a bookworm at heart. Has a short temper. She is a hit-first, ask-questions-later type of person. Drinks | Smokes | Drugs: Occasionally | Rarely | Never Health: Considerably well Injuries: As a child, Atalanta broke many bones, as she is a wild soul, and as a child, she was always going on adventures; climbing trees, exploring caves, and diving into the ocean. Hobbies: Reading, exploring different cultures and countries, cooking and baking, gardening, studying all she can about magical creatures but mostly dragons, learning any new languages possible, star gazing, trying to explore as much as the ocean as possible, extreme sports.

Notes: I will play her in the supernatural genre, as well as the normal one - where she isn't a shifter or magical person but she will be human and the princess of Greece. I am world-building her first novel.

#m: Atalanta Variel #the love of my life #lanta: face #lanta: info

[endmysuffer1ng]

Most of us were born from the generation that worshipped the likes of Dolphy, Joey De Leon, Babalu, etc., even without considering their personal beliefs and life outside the screen, their movies presented such a cartoonish portrayal of love to the point that it painted a bad picture of relationships and attraction resonating up to our modern lives.

The typical dynamic between the two main characters in any of these movies involve an exaggeratedly airheaded, plain, and perfect female character, who just playfully refuses the goofy advances of the male protagonist, focusing on his unattractiveness, or unconventional looks to be blunt, as a point of humor. This whole tirade continues until our damsel slowly strikes out subtle smiles until they just somehow magically accept these advances, through the slow and steady clown show, or an incredibly unrealistic scenario where the female protag just gets affected by the titular male in a very significant way.

This kind of entertainment is very well enjoyed by my father and his. And this applies to more than my household, as a matter of fact, this still applies today. In areas where their medium of entertainment are vintage and/or pirated DVD's with hundreds of these films watched and are still being watched. The standards they created reverbate filipino masculinity, affecting the ways kids are raised, wives are loved, and selves are seen. The novelty of these films exist through some sort of main character syndrome going on painfully obvious in every iteration.

Complemented by a timed Damsel in Distress trope, it rots the head. It monopolizes every hope of not only meaningful portrayal of more colorful characters, but also the values of being a man in the Philippines. Instead of better characters suited with more flaws that can reach lesser known spaces in a man's psyche, you're only getting the dimwit making one of five funny faces, hitting his head on a pole, while the lady he woos laughs at him, taking him in out of pity, not by charm or anything else. I'm not discrediting this dynamic that may occur in real life, but with it being 60% of classic Filipino cinema marketted towards men and their families, the best case scenario is for profit, the worst case is the corruption of a generation, who then would be responsible for another generation, bringing about this modern hellscape that we live in.

With these values and tropes instilled to our mothers and fathers, as easy it is to generalize, I much prefer to shift the blame to those with influence, perhaps above the actors and the personalities who portrayed and became the progenitors of this trend, or even the directors who are probably just inspired by something. The question lies: what could've caused this cultural sinkhole, and what will fix it? I can make this easier and blame every fucking failed election, every corrupt polititian being elected, to Vic Sotto movies, but I think we're way past that, surely after 40 years there must've been a point where change should've happened, but where is it? These old movies have been and are still in circulation, not only in households where they are deemed as treasures, but also on air as they continuously and endlessly rerun and show these movies with their out of date portrayals of values still on full display, eerily corrupting current generations with terrible values.

Seems like I'm just taking out frustration being reminded of all my terrible days in with this cinematic filth being a part of this. Who knows? If it were up to me, I'd have a full force brigade into sparing anyone to having seen any of these films ever again, but that's just full-on fascism sitting on top of anger towards the painful sensation that I feel every time I witness a second of any of these films. At this point, the most rational thing I can do is wait for people to realize the poison in these movies. I'll just pray that it'll come eventually.

[bearofohu]

quick ramble here, i have a lot of criticisms for disney and their movies, but i will never deny that Tangled was a phenomenal movie that changed the way that I, as a child, was able to perceive my abusive mother in a better light that empowered me to see her past her abusive tactics and recognize the true nature of it. i know it helped many other children with abusive parents as well when they saw it as children. mother gothel’s emotional abuse and manipulation was unmistakable for even a child to recognize, and the narrative of rapunzel realizing she never owed gothel anything and deserved to live her life as she chose was excellently done in my book

#i don't talk about tangled enough its one of my favorite disney films #ramble #disney #rapunzel #luke.text #text #movie ramble #disney animated films #disney rapunzel #mother gothel #personal #ok to rb #(hits blunt) mother knows best changed my LIFE #abuse mention #mother tw #abuse tw

[tiredandtenderly]

It's Been a Hell of a Week - CaitVi Drabble

Summary: after a nightmare, Vi reflects a little on some of the more painful events of her life.

Words: c. 580

A/N: Sooo Arcane has consumed my life and I'm very okay with this. These two took me by surprise in the best way. This ended up knocking round my brain a couple of days ago and thought I'd finally write it down, so please enjoy this little piece

Vi bit back the shout that had worked its way into her throat while she dreamed. It came out as a gasp as she sat upright in bed.

Just a nightmare.

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, willing away the dregs of it before glancing back down at a sleeping Caitlyn, with her hair fanned out across her pillow and her mouth slightly open, revealing the small gap between her front teeth. She looked genuinely peaceful, Vi thought with a pang of adoration, allowing the sight to warm her chest, just for a moment.

Normally she'd try and get comfortable again and will herself back to sleep. But this nightmare was too vivid. If she fell asleep again maybe she'd see it all again. Or maybe when she next woke up it'd be a reality. No. She slipped out of bed, trying her hardest not to wake Caitlyn, then out of their bedroom and into the living area.

They'd moved into a place near the Kiramman residence together a little after the city had taken time to recover from the attack on the council. Caitlyn had said over and over that she couldn't handle being in that huge house, where everything reminded her of her mother. But still wanted to make sure her father was okay. So this was the next best option. Besides, it meant that she could spend more time with Vi both in regards to the hunt for Jinx and also for other, more personal, romantic reasons.

Vi pulled a clean glass from the cupboard above the sink and poured herself some water in the hopes that it would get the corrosive taste of panic out of her mouth. No such luck, but at least her throat wasn't dry any more.

She padded across to the window and watched as raindrops raced each other down the glass.

The bridge was in view from their apartment, an indelible reminder of what had happened so many months ago… and worse yet, what could have been. If she had just let Powder come along. If she'd not lost her temper, hit her and walked away - even if it had only been for a couple of minutes. If she’d killed Silco when she had the chance when he'd found her and Caitlyn hiding out in what was left of her childhood home. If she’d been able to reach Pow-... Jinx in time. If-

“Vi?”

A soft hand landed on her shoulder.

“Hey, Cupcake.” Vi murmured, eyes still watching the bridge. “Sorry, I didn't realise I woke you.”

“It’s alright,” Caitlyn pressed herself to Vi’s back, “you were just gone a while.”

“‘M sorry,” Vi tore her gaze away from the outside and turned in Caitlyn’s arms to face her, “I'm here.” She kissed her sweetly, cupping the back of her neck.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Huh?” The nightmare, Vi realised after a second, “oh. No, I’m good. Nothing new.”

“I am always here if you change your mind. You know you don't have to shoulder it alone.”

Vi nodded, pressing her forehead to Caitlyn’s. “I know,” she whispered. “You're amazing, Cait.” She pulled Caitlyn into a hug.

Caitlyn scratched her blunt nails through the soft fuzz of Vi’s undercut, soothing some of the tension Vi always seemed to carry in her shoulders. When Caitlyn felt her relax, she brushed her lips softly up Vi’s neck and jaw until she reached her mouth and kissed her fully.

“Come back to bed,” she murmured against her lips.

“Lead the way, Cupcake.”

#piltover's finest #caitvi #vi arcane #caitlyn kiramman #my writing #i love them #arcane #Vi #vicait

[bakugosbratx]

Request: Hi! I was wondering if you could write a story when y/n is the crazy one and kidnaps Bakugo. Tysm ! -meena

Warnings: NSFW 18+ Content. Yandere, stalking, kidnapping, cursing, mental illness, blood, abuse, drugs, etc.

Check out my other works here

A/N: Hmm this is a different turn of events. I love it 👀 I hope you enjoyed anon! I went a little wild with this one.

Words: 2.2k

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @miriobaby @lanarist @sickchildren @bakugousbrat @ssplague @ahbeautifulexistence @m779 @vinny-likes-to-play21

“Dear Katsuki,

I watched you save a civilian on television today. I know it’s your job and all, but you did not have to save her. Her life is not as important as mine. Do you not cherish what we have? Am I just a nobody to you? This is my 103rd letter to you and still no response. I know your address did not change so do not give me that pathetic excuse, Katsuki Bakugo. Surely, you must remember we are soulmates. We are one. How dare you fucking forget me? I had to rip all of my posters down in a fit of rage. You know how angry that makes me, baby, but it will all be okay, because you are coming home to me. We will be one.

Sincerely,

Yours.”

You burst into a fit of giggles as you kick your bare feet back and forth on his bed. You wrote in black ink and covered the paper in orange hearts since it is the pro-hero’s favorite color. You could not help but leave precious lipstick kisses on the page. Something you always do in your love letters to Katsuki. The posters in your house are covered in them. Katsuki’s beautiful face is just so kissable. You cannot wait to do it tonight.

All you can think about is Katsuki. That is all your day consists of. Your clothing is all his merchandise and his favorite colors. You spend hours upon hours watching interviews, videos, surveillance footage of the hero. When he is out on patrol, you do your best to hide in areas so you can see the hero up close and personal. Your face just beams with joy at the mere glance of him.

You did your best to meet him several times. Any disaster there was to be had, you put on your nicest attire, do your make-up just how you think he likes, and have your hair freshly done. No better way to greet your significant other after hero work than looking like a beauty pageant queen.

Sadly, all your attempts were failures. Katsuki did not even give you the time of day. He is way too focused on beating the villains to a pulp. You did admire this about him, but your own selfish desires created hatred in you. He should be paying attention to you. Not those pesky villains.

Katsuki is sure to receive forty-five letters addressing the issue. All that he will never even skim over. This is only adding fuel to the fire.

The posters that hang in every single room in your apartment are ripped to shreds. Pools of tears covered your orbs, smudging all of your makeup. You climbed onto your black sofa, taking your left high heel and breaking the glass photo of Katsuki hanging there. Shards of glass sprinkle the couch and hardwood floor below. You don't even care for the pieces that collected into your skin. You will worry about that later.

“Fuck you, Katsuki!” You sobbed, ripping his face with your teeth and spitting out the saliva covered photo onto the litter filled floor.

“Pro-Hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite saves another civilians life yet again, taking down another member of the league of villains who was terrorizing the victim.”

The news anchor’s words fell on deaf ears as you went to the television screen. You are captivated by your significant other’s beauty on the tv. Blood leaked from your freshly manicured hands. They are painted orange and black as always.

“Oh, Katsuki,” you sighed with a smile, tracing a heart around his face with your leaking blood, “we will be together soon. I promise, baby. I’ll take you away from this sick, cruel world so we can live happily ever after.”

You were serious that day. You planned it on your calendar. The countdown began on the night you are going to be one with Katsuki. A day you knew you both looked forward to.

“Dear Katsuki,

Did you miss me? I know I missed you. I even stamped this letter in my blood so you can have my DNA to mix with yours. I can’t wait to procreate with you. We will make such wonderful babies, don’t ya think? They will be so beautiful like you. I will be such an excellent mother. No woman can be a great wife to you like I can. Do you understand me?”

You had to pause writing as your blood started to boil at the thought. Your pen is already creating a huge ink spot from the anger consuming your hands. Small growls escaped your parted lips as you began to growl.

“If I can’t have you, no one can, Katsuki Bakugo. I am your one true love. You're one and only. And I’ll make sure that day comes. Just a few more days, baby, and we will be one.

Sincerely,

Yours.”

The day finally came. You knew Katsuki’s schedule by heart. You loved watching him do his morning routines with the security cameras you placed in his home. The poor male never even thought to check. Such a mistake on his part. It only confirmed he needed protection from the world. Only you can provide that. Sure, you may be quirkless, but no one knows Katsuki like you do. No one can love him like you. He knows this. He has to.

You drew a luke-warm bubble bath with nice lit candles, rose pedals, a few drops of your blood, and some freshly made desserts for you both to enjoy while you catch up. You are even so kind enough to fetch him a beer or two so he can relax. You know how he enjoys his alcoholic beverages after a long day of hero work.

You rested on his bed. The natural caramel scent engulfed your nostrils as you wrote letters into your notebook once more. Even when you two are officially together forever, you still love to write out your thoughts. You know he enjoys them as well.

Hours upon hours passed. Frustration arose overtime. You did not want to be angry with your spouse, but he knows better than to be home late on your special day. You have almost filled up your notepad with phrases upon phrases of ‘I love you’s’ and sweet nothings. Along with other things.

You tapped your bandages covered foot on the ground as you began to pace. “What is taking him so long?” You huffed aloud, growing more impatient by each passing second. The bath is beginning to become cold and that is just rude in your opinion. You decided to write out your emotions.

“Dear Katsuki,

What the fuck is taking you so long, huh? It’s so fucking aggervating and just plain rude. I have done so much for you only to toss me to the side like I’m nothing. Are you cheating on me? I do not tolerate disrespect, Katsuki Bakugo. You are going to make me mean and you know I hate being mean to you. You just make me jealous, baby. You know how you do that to me. Make me feel all types of emotion I can’t seem to understand, but one thing is for certain is that you and I will be together.

Sincerely,”

You did not even get to finish your final entry as you hear the front door downstairs unlock. Scrambling to put the diary away, you gather the necessary items from under the bed and wait for the perfect moment to strike. Katsuki’s natural loud ways was helping you locate his every move without even having to look at security footage.

All you have to do is be patient.

Katsuki sat on the couch, propping his sock-covered feet onto the glass coffee table and turning on the television. You allowed him some moments to get settled before gently tip-toeing down the stairs, rope, duct tape, and a blunt object ready in hand.

Just as Katsuki turned to acknowledge your presence, the crowbar hit his head, knocking him unconscious. You quickly attend to his wound — not without dropping some droplets of blood into his — so it does not get offended. You cannot have your husband getting an infection.

You tie up his hands and legs, duct tape his mouth after delivering kisses to his perfectly plump lips, and drag him to the kitchen. You did not realize how much your lover really weighed. Too much time was wasted dragging him to the fridge than preferred, but it will all be worth it in the end. You know it will be.

Katsuki did not wake up until the next day. You stayed by his side the whole time, telling him about your day and how much you have planned for you two. Of course, he needs to build his trust with you. You love a very intelligent man and the last thing you need is for him to be against you.

Slowly opening his crimson eyes, his attention is brought to a grinning you. Katsuki immediately attempts to escape the captivity he is in, but it is no use. You just had to buy special rope that cancels quirks.

“Struggle all you want, Katsuki-poo. There is no escaping me.” You chuckled, loving the way he squirmed and furrowed his eyebrows at you. All of his curses are mumbled by the tape which is probably the best considering you did not want to be insulted right now.

“When you calm down, I’ll take off the tape.” You bargained, shrugging nonchalantly as you kneel in front of the man. Did this calm him down? No. You know it wouldn’t regardless. You know Katsuki better than he knows himself yet you already want to push his buttons. The way he gets so angry turns you on and you can’t just help yourself but want more.

After a couple of hours of Katsuki complaining and you writing even more in your diary, he decided to calm down. This made you happy. You wanted to hear his beautiful gruff voice.

Grabbing the corner of the tape, you rip it off. Katsuki is already barking insults. “Are you fucking insane? Who the hell even are you? This isn’t going to end well with you, you psycho bit—“

A hard slap to his face interrupted Katsuki’s spill. Along with the duct tape you placed back on his mouth. “Such a meanie,” you pout, “and here I was about to be so nice to you.”

This cycle repeated itself for three days. You never left his side once. How could you? He is obviously in distress. He needs you by his side. He cannot do anything without you. Especially with his hands tied behind his muscular back. Katsuki finally decided that playing the game is the only way to win it.

You ripped the tape off once again. Katsuki did not even speak this time. “Did you learn your lesson?” You quizzed with an arched brow. “Y’know being a meanie is not going to get you anywhere, Katsukikins.”

“Why are you doing this?” Katsuki inquired, his gruff voice sounding so weak and hollow. You almost felt bad.

“You’re so silly, Suki. C’mon,” you brought your lips close to his, “gimme a kiss.”

Reluctantly, Katsuki did as instructed. Considering you are straddling his lap and his powers are useless, he has no choice in the matter. You loved the compliance.

“Good boy.” You praised, ruffling his messy blonde hair. Katsuki glared at you. “Will you be good and eat some food for me?”

“I don’t want your stupid ass food.” Katsuki growled, laying his head against the bottom freezer of his fridge.

“Nonsense, Suki.” You giggled, feeling extremely joyful to be with Katsuki. You bring a spoon of Miso soup up to his closed lips, “have some. I blew on it so it’s not too hot.”

“Get that trash away from me, you idiot—“ Katsuki was interrupted by a spoon entering his mouth. Though he would hate to admit this, the soup tasted delicious and he is quite hungry. He put up a fight, but allowed you to feed him properly until every drop was gone. Unfortunately, Katsuki is unaware that the soup is drugged until it’s too late.

His body began to feel numb. He did not even have the strength to ask questions as his eyes became drowsy. Soon, he is slumped over, sound asleep as you manage to drag him up the stairs and into your shared bed.

Planting kisses all over structures, you tuck him in and finish some late night entries in your diary. Skimming through them all and reflecting on how you got here now, it made you smile. Progress has been made and will continue to do so.

Signing off on the final page, you write:

“Dear Katsuki,

These past three days have been exhilarating. I see it in your terrified eyes how happy you are that I am here. I know how much you missed me. I missed you, too, baby. We will continue to grow and soon, we will have children. I even have my menstrual cycle all planned out. I am all yours and you’re all mine. Can’t you see, baby doll? We are forever meant to be.

Sincerely,

Yours.”

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

#tw blood #tw yandere #tw kidnapping #tw injury #tw stalking #bakugosbratx #bratx request #bakugo x yandere reader #katsukibakugou #yandere my hero academia #yandere bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugō #submission #bakugo x you

[apixrl]

YOUR EREN.

eren jeager x fem!reader

WARNING(S): angst. slight manipulation. s4 spoilers. brief mentions of (but not actually) throwing up at the end.

word count: 5.9k

song: a soulmate who wasn't meant to be // jess benko

note(s): oh, that sound? it's just the sound of my tears whilst writing this oneshot. no biggie

The prison cells underneath headquarters were as dark and dreary as ever as you stood opposite them. Whilst the windows were generously large, the night sky was not so giving. Clouds were gloomy and blocked out the moon and stars, replacing it with a heavy downpour of rain. If you listened closely, you could pick up on the faint 'pitter patter' as droplets met the pebbled ground outside, the sound comforting compared to the echoing silence within the walls. Mattresses were placed in the corners of each cell, old and tattered after years of use by many different faces. You could only imagine their discomfort as you'd never been required to sleep on them, your record in the Scout Regiment practically a clean slate after your years of service. You were someone who took your position as a soldier seriously; respected your superiors and did as told when told.

As for Eren Jeager? It seemed in recent events he was past the point of caring.

Such a fact was blatant as you stared at him through the prison bars, your back pressed against the wall, body stiff and fearful of what would happen if you tried to step closer. Eren's gaze was terrifying to witness even from the odd angle you stared at him. His eyes locked on the ceiling as he lay flat on his back on the bed of his cell. His hair had been pulled back into a messy bun, some strands not long enough to reach so far back were fated to live a life of their own. They glued to his temples and forehead and even entwined with the strands pulled back. You couldn't decide if the look was flattering or not.

"I...," You blurted out without thought of what you planned to actually say, your pathetic attempt at making conversation followed up with a nervous whimper. Eren barely inched a muscle when you broke the quiet, from his eyes to his hands that lay lifeless at his side. He remained laid down as if you weren't even there. That made your heart weep in the worst of ways and your mind qualm - to think the last time you were together he was holding you in his arms as you gazed under the stars. And now he could barely spare you a second glance.

"It's been a while since you were last cooped up in one of these cells," You eventually tried again, calming yourself down as best you could by trying to be light-hearted. "Remember when we would play cards through the bars when I could visit? Those were fun times," You smiled sadly at the memories, eyes drifting away from Eren and towards nothing in particular. The smile then faded, the yearn to experience easier days once more hitting you as hard as stone. "If only we could experience them again,"

Your tone lowered, left unhinged since you knew mourning for what was no more was a waste of time. But you couldn't help yourself. All you wanted was to live in the past, where the titans were slane and the Scouts had reached the sea. All you wanted was to live out your days with your friends, talk and laugh with no need to worry about the rest of the world. All you wanted was to fall into Eren's embrace, to love him with all your might as he did you. There was a short period where that was your life, one filled with simplicity and peace after years of blood and death and gore that haunted your every nightmare. It had been pleasant, and you missed it. More than you were willing to admit.

If only Eren hadn't pushed things too far.

Eren's eyes shifted after a prolonged silence, travelling from the ceiling to you across the way. He was quick to take note of your vacancy, your conflict as you stared at him. How you created your own form of a jail cell by restricting yourself to the opposite side of the room. Maintaining a safe distance like you sensed you would get hurt stepping too far. Eren sighed loudly at that fact. Which caught your attention, E/C eyes flicking back to him at the sound. Eren pushed himself upright, eyes leaving you to stare at the floor before he hoisted himself off of the bed. Then, he turned to face you, searching for you through the wisps of his unkempt fringe.

You held your breath when he did, unable to fathom just how uncomfortable his gaze made you feel. Typically, Eren looking your way would send butterflies to your stomach. Your heart would perform somersaults and beat soundly with joy. Your cheeks would heat up, to which he would smile and tease and call it cute - merely deepening your flustered state like it was some fun game.

But this time, upon him meeting your gaze, nausea swiftly followed after. Rising concern over unconditional love based on his expression alone. It was empty. Unreadable. Nothing you had ever seen him display before. You had witnessed most if not all his worst moments up front but none of them - none of them, came close to just how desolately devoid he looked in that moment.

His lips didn't twitch, firmly held together as they added to his glaring aura. His brows arched sterner than Captain Levi's when you failed to clean a room up to standards, you didn't think it was possible for them to be so closely knit. But the worst part that made you truly sick to the stomach at the unfamiliarity of it all, were his eyes. Their usual bright and gleaming jade green blend that had entranced you from the instant you met Eren were now bleaker and more stationary than ever. They no longer held a zest and determination that motivated you to fight another day, no notable twinkle against the dimly lit room. Only a barren vacancy the most broken are succumbed to display.

You felt the need to comment on it, communicate to Eren just how worried you were. That you wanted to help him because you cared about him more than anyone else in the entire world. You were willing to lay your life down for him, and had even nearly become an anonymous number in the ranks because of that sheer will alone. However, before you had the chance to open your mouth, Eren beat you to it.

"Did Hange send you down here to try and sway me?" Eren asked half-rhetorically, taking a couple of steps forwards until the bars of his cell stopped him. "You of all people should know you can't stop me, so why even bother?"

You were taken back by his bluntness, even more so by his disregard for your previous words. Like you had never said them in the first place and he was the one initiating conversation. Perhaps it was so Eren felt he had the control, asserting dominance in a relationship where he already held more than half of it. His aim was unclear, but you persisted nonetheless.

"No, they didn't," You said. "I came here on my own accord, Eren," You shrugged your shoulders aimlessly. "I wanted to see you. I-I've missed you," Eren's eyes narrowed in suspicion, studying your frame for any sign indicating you were lying. He came out with no clear answer as from the instant you had set foot in the room you'd been shaking like a lamb bleating after its mother. Afraid. His arms crossed over his broad chest still in doubt, the action reminding you just how much he'd changed over the last few years. He was taller, looming over you even whilst feet apart. He was no doubt stronger, evident with or without the fact he held the power of three titans within him. Eren was no longer the vigorous and unruly boy he once was, who devoted his strength to rid the world of all the titans. He was now an indestructible force that vouched for freedom, his will to fight unshaken by no one.

"If you missed me so much," He started, looking down at you with what only felt like shame. "What took you so long to visit?" Raising a brow, you realised he held a point with his inquiry. If you proposed you missed him why hadn't you visited? The truth was you were scared of who you would find on the other side when you did. Levi and Hange had given you the option since the first day Eren was placed in his cell. But no matter the undying need to have Eren in your line of sights again, you failed to find the courage to make that final step.

"I wanted to, I-I really did," You said in a panic. "I was just scared! I didn't know what to say or how to speak to you after... after...,"

"After what?" Eren reprimanded, glowering at you as his hands wrapped around the iron bars. Your eyes widened and you whimpered, shaking your head frantically as a means to apologise.

"N-No Eren. I didn't mean it like that I just -," You swallowed thickly, your breathing quickening as Eren's pressing stare intimidated you more and more by the second. You hated how much you were falling apart. Where had your Eren gone?! Your Eren who always fretted over you during and after battles. Your Eren who grew antsy at Jean or Connie if they got a little too comfortable in your company. Your Eren who snuck into your room past curfew to share stories of his life late into the night. Your Eren who crammed his lips on yours when he couldn't hide his feelings any longer, confirming your relationship would turn from friendship to deepened love. You missed your Eren. You wanted your Eren back. Was that so much to ask?!

"You just what?" He spoke harshly, impatience riddled within every letter and syllable. You were quick to notice his grip on the bars tighten to the point you thought he'd snap them clean in two.

"I...," You trailed off, finishing your cut sentence with a defeated sigh. Your hands lowered to your sides as your head hung forwards. Perhaps being upfront with him was the only way you could go. "You killed people, Eren. Innocent people that hadn't done anything wrong! You ate somebody. Women, men and children crushed under debris like they were nothing. Y-You... you made Armin destroy that port and your decision making got Sasha killed!" You brought a hand to your forehead, not realising how distressed you sounded as you recalled that night. Tears started forming in your eyes, lip trembling. "Shit! I nearly... if Jean hadn't shot that Marley soldier first then I would've...,"

You had experienced a rocky start during the raid on Marley. One of your biggest flaws as a soldier was your will to take another life. Life as in... a human life. You despised the concept and did everything in your power to avoid it all costs, even if your fellow soldiers disagreed (especially Levi's, who persisted humans could be just as bad as titans when it came to killing). That exact flaw came forth when you first encountered a Marleyan soldier, and your hesitation almost ended with a bullet between your eyes. Had Jean not been behind you just in time... your grave would have been undoubtedly determined. There was a time where Eren was the same as you, never wanting to act and inflict harm on other humans. But times had changed since then. Oh, how you hated how much it had changed since then. None of it was fair.

A silence ensued, your stifled sobs the only thing willing to break it. Eren watched you motionlessly, the glare still apparent on his face as your emotions got the better of you. You hadn't realised just how shaken up you were from what happened. Sure, you had faced death many times, but always at the hand of titans. Where you had to evade giant swooshing limbs and teeth that could churn your flesh as cows do cud. Never had you looked another human in the eye and watched them contemplate killing you. To aim a gun directly your way and prep the shot as you realised what their intentions were. Then a feeble attempt to escape approaching death, all too distracted with your life flashing before your eyes for you to see the way out. That was one of the scariest moments of your life. You never wanted to endure it again. Never.

"Come here,"

You stiffened up, looking at Eren amidst dishevelled strands of H/C hair falling over your face. His glare had left and his face had returned to its neutral state, his eyes boring into you with his demand lingering in the air. You wiped your nose on your sleeve as well as your eyes, confused by the abrupt change in atmosphere. A truly weird circumstance and turn of events you weren't expecting indeed. At first, you weren't sure doing as Eren said was a smart idea, having heard Hange's experience with him during a debrief. You didn't believe Eren would treat you with the same sort of disrespect, but you also didn't want to take that risk just in case.

"B-But...,"

"Just do it," He roughly snapped, suspense in his tone kicking you up the hind to move. With a yelp, you pushed yourself off of the wall - back sighing out in bliss after starting to ache because of the uneven rocky surface. You gingerly stepped towards Eren, biting down on your lip to stop it trembling in fright. You came to a stop once close enough to the iron bars, hands going to wrap themselves around them, around the same ones as Eren. Whether you intended for that or it was just subconscious instinct you didn't know. Finally, your eyes dropped to the floor, lost on where to focus. Eren hummed a complacent sigh at your actions, head tilting to the side as he looked you up and down. You couldn't find an answer to what was running through his mind, blank gaze concealing all form of emotion and clarity. Then, just as you thought the silence couldn't grow any more powerful, Eren lifted his hand and reached out for you.

You gasped at the sudden contact, the feeling of Eren's hand cupping your face sending all sorts of sensations through you. His palm was warm despite the cool air of the prison cell. It was as though his hand was constructed to cradle your cheek, moulded into the perfect structure to which you filled in the empty spaces. His hand felt soft even after years of wear and tear of fighting and training, fingers long but not at all discomforting. You had forgotten just how pleasant the feel of Eren's thumb across your cheekbone was until he initiated the motion, almost a way to lure you in. And with your deprivation of his touch - of him. That was enough to have you wrapped around his finger.

"I forgot how nice it was to hold you like this," Eren declared monotonously, though his expression betrayed his lack of care. Something about it had calmed, but he didn't allow it to stay for long, gone so fast that if you blinked you would have missed it. You inhaled deeply, head tilting to the side as you nuzzled into his hand. Seeming satisfied with that, Eren proceeded. "That and just how easily you melt under my touch,"

"Eren," You uttered no louder than a whisper, eyes closing tight as you welcomed his touch. You despised how much he was correct, that you became putty without him even needing to try. That was the impact of love, after all, it makes people act in crazy ways and do some incredibly crazy things. But you couldn't ignore the odd funny feeling still pitting your gut, begging you to stop falling to Eren's will before it was too late. You couldn't get carried away, he had committed obscene criminal acts without jurisdiction. That was more than enough to get him locked up for life, regardless of the war you were fighting. You should be disgusted by his actions, his corrupted thinking and the way he went behind the Military's backs to further his own idea of freedom. You were disgusted.

But you also loved him. Way, way more than you were disgusted.

A frown merged onto your face, blending awkwardly with the once peaceful content that Eren noticed as fast as it appeared. He managed to figure out the thoughts running through your mind also, the young adult lamenting a sigh and he opened his mouth to speak. Not before his hand drifted down to your chin, tilting your head up to make you look at him. His thumb planted on your bottom lip as he grazed over it.

"I'm trying to build a future for Eldia, Y/N," Eren spoke firmly, your heart having a brief elation to the way he said your name. It had been far too long since you had heard him say it. "A future for us, where we can be free and live our lives the way we want to,"

"I know," You began, eyes opening to meet Eren's. "But there are other ways, Eren. More humane ways. We don't have to kill anymore if we just-,"

"There isn't another way," Eren interrupted, his ministrations of stroking your chin coming to an abrupt halt. "We've tried other ways and they haven't worked," Eren evaded your disheartened stare. "I'm sick of it not working,"

"We all are, Eren. Stop making out that you're the only victim here," You paid no mind to Eren's reaction. "We're all victims of this shitshow that's our reality, and we're all just as much the culprits of it as well! All w-we do is fight fire with fire and add more ashes to the pile with each person we slaughter," You felt your grip tighten on the bars, gritting your teeth harshly together. "I'm sick of all the violence and suffering! I just want to go back to the days when we could be at peace. Where we could laugh and joke because the main problem - the titans, were dealt with! I became a soldier to fight titans, not to embark on an endless war where both sides are human and neither is willing to cooperate with the other,"

"Those days are gone," Eren spoke sternly, though it softened up when he noticed you look away. "But they can return," He pressed his forehead against the iron bars, staring at you through deadened eyes. "We can live a life of freedom together once I finish what I started, all I need you to do is stay by my side and to have faith,"

Your eyes widened, gawking at Eren with complete and utter disbelief at his words. His persistence came off like the cruellest of sicknesses, corrupting Eren's mind to the point of insanity. His moral compass was in shambles as was his sense of humanity. The way his eyes were numbed right down to their pupils, blinded by his visions of a future for Eldia that came with the cost of the rest of the world's suffering. It pained you to witness such a change, to witness Eren's descent into madness as war took over his every thought and breath. Suddenly that foreign feeling in your stomach became clear as day, and you abhorred it with a deadly passion.

"I don't want to be free in a world built on other people's suffering," Your hands fell down to your sides, heartbeat racing as you avoided Eren's gaze. He quirked a brow, eyes piercing into you once he realised what you meant, and his chosen tone suggested he didn't like that one bit.

"What are you trying to say?"

You faltered, both as a mental brace and a state of refusal to your next actions. A second or so passed before you took a step back, creating a distance that did more damage than healing. With a shaky breath, you answered his question.

"I love you Eren, with everything I am. B-but I can't stand by your side if this is the path you're going to take," The tears were already brewing, doing everything you could to blink them away. "I won't sit by and watch the rest of the world crumble because of your selfish desires,"

You hated the words you were saying, how you said them and who you were saying them to. That it had all come to this, where Eren became the threat to humanity rather than its saviour. He only had so much time left and had you known that his way of spending it was to spiral the world into chaos - perhaps you wouldn't have grown so attached.

"I can't - I...," Since he hadn't said anything, you felt the urgency to speak. "Eren you have no idea how much I want to but this isn't how I saw our future -,"

"What future?" Eren persisted, not giving you a chance to reply. "Eldia has no future within the walls, these cages! It's time we give the world a taste of its own medicine, so what if a couple of lives are taken out on the way? It's not like they give a damn about ours," Eren scoffed when you shook your head, tears pricking at your eyes and the stinging sensation that came with it was painful to deal with.

"Please, Eren. Think about what you're saying," You pleaded and begged. But you knew it was no use, Eren too fixated on his 'destiny' to see logical reason. Merely the look in his eyes was proof enough to tell you that. "What happened to you? When did you become so heartless? Where's the Eren I knew all those years ago gone? Don't you miss it back then? When we weren't cheating death and we could simply be us? Be two dumb teens in love and the only thing that mattered was that love we shared? Do you even think about that anymore? About me? What about -,"

"Stop it," Eren stopped you, voice acting as a silencer to your blubbering drabble. Flinching at the interruption your mouth clamped shut, and your eyes darted for Eren in surprise. Despite locked behind bars, you were still terrified, and it felt more like you were the prisoner of the pair. With a low growl, Eren raised a clenched fist and thrashed it harshly against the bars. It made a low but loud 'thunk!' sound that hit your ears like impending doom, deafening all around you excluding that of Eren and the words he uttered next. "I'm sick of listening to you whine about shit that's not even important,"

"W-what?" You stammered in question, voice unsteady. "What do you mean it's not important?"

"Do you really think that amidst all of this I have time to be playing boyfriend?" Eren half-mocked. "I've got bigger priorities than you right now," He didn't look you in the eye, nostrils flared as his gaze lingered on the floor. Your legs nearly gave way at what you were hearing, each word a fatal stab to the stomach. Each stab even more malicious than the last. So that was it? You didn't matter anymore? Were you just some pawn in Eren's plan until he didn't feel he needed you anymore? Had his love ever been real or was it all a hoax to manipulate your every waking thought?

A minute passed of still silence, one of the many that evening. Your eyes never left Eren, searching for something to indicate he was joking. As well as contemplating pinching yourself in hopes you woke up from this horrible nightmare. Maybe you'd wake up in your Eren's arms, safe and secure as you lay beside him - his gentle breaths from deep sleep tickling the back of your neck and helping you forget the entire reason you woke up. But sadly, no such thing happened. You never woke up from anything but were instead left to face an Eren you barely knew anymore. Endure the pain as he pounded words into your head that gashed crueller than the worst of war wounds.

Realising this, you felt an urge to laugh, unsure what else there was you really could do. Crying was ineffective, and there was no way you could let Eren get the better of you. That's probably what he wanted anyway, for you to turn around and beg on your hands and knees. So as your hand met your face, you released the smallest of chuckles, lacking in humour but overwhelmed with an unforeseen emptiness. It definitely caught Eren by surprise, but he was fast to not hide it as he pressured that vacant stare onto you yet again.

"You insist your plan is the only way to get us our future, but I'm not even sure what future you mean anymore," You hesitated, trying to gain control of your lip which began to quiver erratically. "Clearly it's not the one we imagined together when we were younger,"

"If only you weren't so blinded by your emotions," Eren avoided your words, something you noticed and felt more agonised by than relieved. "Stop thinking with your feelings and see the logic, already. It's so annoying,"

Almost choking on the sob you tried to hold down, you bit down harshly on your lip - any harder and you probably would have drawn blood. You did everything you could to ignore Eren's words, but you were so hurt that you were losing the means to do so.

But you couldn't let his words consume you and manifest them into truth. You had to be strong, use whatever power you had left to regain your composure and come out the bigger person. Eren had always been a stubborn brat, Levi's nickname reigning true now more than ever.

"Use your head and think, Y/N," Eren spoke slowly, leaning his weight back onto one foot. He stretched his arm out towards you, held out for you to take. "Maybe if you stop caring for those that'll just kill you off for sport you'll actually comprehend why you're following the wrong cause,"

His words were suffocating and barbaric, not at all inspiring or persuading in the slightest. It didn't make you feel hopeful, it made you feel trapped. All you wanted was for it to stop. It wasn't love no matter how much you adored him. It wasn't healthy no matter the good memories you had shared. You had to stop the past messing with your head. You had to stop Eren messing with your head. You wanted to get out and escape. You needed to and as soon as possible. So, taking a moment to regain your composure, your hands raised to adjust the collar of your jacket and you looked over at Eren. An apologetic expression on your face for deciding to cut the visit short.

"I think I should... should go check on Armin and the others," You started, not sure what Eren would make of that. He appeared to show confusion, blinking once your words processed and frowning based on how sudden they were.

"Why would you need to do that?"

"They've been busy, and they're probably looking for me," You made up on the spot. "I didn't tell them I was coming to see you," Eren was silent, eyeing you up and down before he scoffed.

"You know I can tell you're lying, right?"

"W-Why would I lie?"

"For the same reason all people lie," Eren said. "To avoid what you're too scared to face," The way Eren spoke made everything feel much, much worse. A heavy amount of disrespect originated from this new flesh of conceit that Eren displayed on full. He had always been one to boast, but never in the form he showed in the present.

Listening to his slander any longer was something you simply couldn't handle. Not today, anyway. Fatigue was starting to claim control over your thought process, emotionally drained from talking to Eren. He had selfishly left you in a constant state of confusion and agony, making you ask yourself more questions than answering them. It utterly and totally sucked, being honest, and you had no clue where your relationship stood. Was it over? Were you still even together? Had he even seen you both as a couple this entire time or was it all just a big lie?

"So what were you trying to avoid when you spent all those months lying to us?" You were tempted to leave without another word said, but you knew you'd regret not asking your question. Which had popped into your head at the last moment as you pondered on Eren's words. Using them against you seemed to strike a nerve, as when you expected Eren to talk he did no such thing. Instead, he glared at you for being caught out, prompting your next words to follow. "I'll... I'll see you later, Eren,"

And with that, you started walking away.

You did everything in your power to not look back, focusing your gaze on the exit that was a little way ahead. Eren's stare etched itself into your back on the way out, leaving an even deeper wound than before which would probably scar for sure. Your footsteps dragged across the floor like you hauled twice your body weight behind you. Walking upstairs had never been such a demanding challenge before in your life. To think that you possessed the energy to traverse the walls but absolutely none to conquer thirteen mediocre steps.

You made it around ten steps up, just about to reach out for the door handle - when Eren's voice finally filled the room again. It brought your rushed exit to a halt with ease, much to your dismay, and what he had to say did nothing to help your situation.

"Who's to say I ever lied?"

Your heart both soared and sank at the same time, the conflict in your head skyrocketing as your thoughts drove you mad. What did Eren mean by that? Lie about what exactly? It was the way his words were always so devoid of clarity that hurt the most. The brunette was exceedingly blunt yet always left you inquiring more, prying further until it was too late. A mind game that pulled you in and kept you playing. You admittedly almost swayed.

But so close to the door, your hand wavering in the air just begging to open it - it was enough to prevent such a thing a happening. You knew if you headed back it would be the end, you would somehow get more hurt than you already had. It was a risky move you didn't want to place your bets on, you had come too far to be foolish.

So taking a deep breath you reached out for the handle and gripped it tight. You turned the knob and braced yourself to leave, blocking Eren from your mind as you lifted your foot to the eleventh step. Then the twelfth. Then the thirteenth, and finally onto the floor above the jail cells.

Closing that door behind you felt like the freshest of cleanses, your body sighing out in relief when it clicked shut.

Sadly though, you didn't have time to celebrate. The whole encounter surely caught up with you, as did the tears you had been saving for when you were finally alone. Just like they guaranteed, the hot, salty liquid singed the corners of your eyes and the tears returned. Before you could do anything, a cry broke out and you staggered until your back hit the door. The hinges jolted loudly, most likely attracting the attention of someone nearby. Whether it be a guard around the corner or one of your friends in search of your location. Maybe even Hange or Levi coming to check up on you. Whichever it was, they were in for a shock.

Your heart raced with anxiety, mind and body overwhelmed by inner turmoil that made you sick to your gut. The nausea was so bad you had to hold your stomach with your spare arm, fighting the urge to violently vomit all whilst controlling your reckless sobs that didn't cease their slander. Your vision went blurry from how much you broke down, unable to blink the tears away no matter your efforts.

Fearing the unknown had always been a part of who you were. But had somewhat simmered down as you grew older and developed mentally through being a soldier. However, all that progress reversed in an instant as your mind flashed back to the thought of Eren. How someone who used to possess so much passion now resorted to an empty vessel. The way he admitted to your insignificance with such little struggle, only to proceed to confuse you even more by implying he had never told a single lie. Was he even talking about you when he said that? Or something else completely unrelated?

A little bit of confirmation wouldn't hurt anybody.

It was odd to have Eren be the reason for your tears after so many years of him typically being the one to dry them off your face. Though thinking about it, he had been the leading cause for a lot of things as of late. The number a very concerning amount indeed. You barely even recognised him anymore. The once caring soul you fell in love with was no longer there, replaced with a man who had discovered the bittersweet lust for power based on a corrupted idealogy. Such a ruthless lust that it no longer mattered how that idealogy came to be, just as long as he managed to taste an essence of it.

You hated it. You hated that of all people it was Eren who tumbled down that drain. How did you allow yourself to fall in love with someone so possible of committing such atrocities? To worship him and give him everything you had, only to be told it was all for nothing and you were fighting a losing battle. You knew it was hopeless to hold on and believe that your Eren might return but at this rate that seemed unattainable. Not after witnessing him firsthand. The only thing left now was to move on and pray the world was on your side.

Part of you didn't want to move on though, so familiar with Eren as your crutch that a world without him sounded terrifying. You had grown so used to his presence in your life that all of this still felt so surreal no matter the fact you were very much living in it. Living in an endless hell that never allowed anyone a moment's peace. Not you. Not even Eren. Not a single human being on the planet. Nobody.

Just... where along the line had it all gone so painfully wrong?

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jeager #eren jeager x reader #x reader #angst #eren yeager angst #eren yaegar #eren aot #eren fic #eren yeager fic

[camslightstories]

Tolerate It - Part 14

Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers. Female Reader.

Notes: hey guys! How are you all doing? Sorry I haven’t been updating sooner! This chapter took a lot of me, I hope you guys like it! As always I’m open for suggestions, opinions, comments, theories and more always. right now my requests are close because I want to get out all of the request before i open them again. Hope you have a great day, enjoy!

Taglist: @multi-images @captain-josslett​  @aznblossom​  @venteen   @coxmicbabygirl @lezzzbehonesthere

Flashback, Midvale 2009

The cold weather of Midvale had started to slowly hit your body as you ran through the field with the rest of your teammates. The sweat ran through your face as you ran along with the group. The bright sky slowly fading into the sunset as the 7 pm set in. The cheers of the tea could be heard as you guys got back to the center after 5 laps. 

Your mind never leaves the thought of your oldest sister being home from college, with hope and happiness in your heart at the thought of seeing both of your sisters. After all, it had been a rough year for you, and having your sisters with you was more than enough.

You were pulling your cellphone out to call your mom as you arrived at the dinner which was two blocks away from your school. Your soccer training shirt hanging on your body which had your last name printed on the back, while the grey sweatpants you had stolen from your oldest sister fitted comfortably and a little too big on you. 

You were already making a mental list of what you had to order, two chocolate milkshakes, one pound cheeseburger, and three sets of fries with bacon and cheese for Kara. one all American burger without pickles and extra cheese, a half strawberry and half chocolate milkshake, one set of unsalted fries and one set of fries with bacon and cheese for Alex. one set of only bacon fries, one set of nuggets, one cookie and cream milkshake with double cookies and one no vegetables cheese and bacon cheeseburger for you. The rule at the Danvers house was that if you guys ate junk food during the week, then the next day you all had to eat the greens, and well none of you could tell no to your mom after all.

It had been a while since you had come to the dinner, after all, it was where Lucy broke up with you. You couldn't help but have the lingering feeling as you entered immediately looking in the direction of your old spot finding it alone, sighing almost in content as you walked down the hallway on your way to the register only to see two familiar backs and the face of your redheaded sister. 

Her eyes had caught yours and without a second thought, you ran as fast as you could when Alex yelled your name. Tackling her into a hug makes you both fall to the floor, a beaming smile on your face as you hug tighter not wanting to let go. “Y/N!”

“Al!” You groaned happily as the two of you fell to the floor laughing.

Moments after falling into the floor, Kara offered both of her hands to pull you guys up but instead she ended up falling with the two of you after you and your oldest sister shared a knowing look. 

And as Kara landed on the floor you flung your arm around the blonde and the redhead hugging them as tight as you could while having a beaming smile. Happiness radiating out of you like sunlight and for the first time in the last couple of months, you had a genuine smile on your face.

——

“Mom! I’m home!” You yelled as your redhead sister gave you a piggy ride. Laughing when Alex winced at the sound of your voice is so close to her ear. Entering the house the first thing all of you heard was the voice of your mother. 

“Kitchen!”

The four of you moved to the kitchen finding your mother in her glasses at the top with a computer screen full of numbers and diagrams. Your blonde mother didn't hesitate to get up greeting each one of you before speaking in a more motherly tone than before. “I see you guys dinner, just don't stay up too late”

The three of you nodded before Alex let you off her back. And as you went to throw yourself into the cushion. Your mom's voice ringed your ears before you could even think. “I hope you are not going to sit on the couch with training clothes ”

Straighten the posture you looked over to your sisters to see them trying to suppress the laugh that you heard after walking upstairs. Hearing your blonde sister yelled your name after you cursed when your feet entangled together making you fall in the last step of the stairs.

_____

With the TV on, and Princess Diaries playing live. The three of you sat, well more like laid out between the couch and the solo chair which Kara’s boyfriend had claimed as his own every time you guys were in the living room. Your head was on Alex's lap as she moved her fingers through your hair as the movie went through. Kara was laying on the large puff seat trying to be closer to the food. 

One moment Mia was about to have her looks changed and the next the TV was on the local news showing the Midvale college in an emergency because of a fire on one of the floors. Neither Kara nor Kenny hesitated before exchanging knowing looks, you kept quiet as the anxiousness began to creep your stomach when you felt your redheaded sister stop her movements, the moment she noticed the looks seeming to catch with the situation. 

Both Kenny and Kara got up, sticking with the blunt excuse that they were going to the library to get some homework done, and before Alex or you could say something the two of them were out of the house. 

____

Your anxiety hadn't calmed down since the moment the local news started to play, and it felt as it increased every second that went by. You knew what Kara and Kenny were up to, you knew the high school couple was the anonymous ‘superheroes’ the town had been written about for weeks. Your anxiety had gotten worse since Alex left and when you saw your blonde sister get out of the college with smoky hair, it had gotten even worse. 

You couldn't even bear the thought of either of them getting hurt. With Alex beginning away from home, from where you could know she was safe and with Kara moving around recklessly with Kenny, whom you didn't trust wasn't helping either because it was the fact running around your head yelling at you and remaining you, you could lose them. 

To say that Alex was mad was an understatement, especially after she learned from a very annoying reporter that this wasn't the first time your blonde sister had done something reckless. And with Alex murmuring every five seconds, you could tell she was livid, you knew your redhead sister enough to know she was about to explode because she was scared, worried, and more. Just like you, she couldn't lose anyone else, she was not going to let it happen again.

Midway through the silent riding which Alex sat straightly driving while your blonde sister sat in the back of the car while you tried to keep the calm of the situation as much as you could. You started to play with fingers nervously after Kenny received the Danvers glare from Alex which made the teenage boy immediately excuse himself, running away.

Your mind was so out of your head, you didn't realize you guys had arrived until her yelling voice invaded your ears, and the sound of the closing door broke you out of your trance. 

“You don't get to do this, you can’t do this!”

Outside of the car, in front of the garage shelves both of your sisters stood arguing. The heated argument overwhelmed your ears as you watched them. As both of them stubbornly argued with each other, you got out of the seat and walked up to them when Kara made the wrong comment to a livid Alex with a newspaper in her hand.

“Well, who reads the newspaper anymore?” Kara said jokily to your redheaded sister who just shook her head in response. 

“Guys?” You said as both of them keep quiet glaring at each other. In a blinking moment, Alex starts to walk away only to be stopped by Kara. 

“The real world is about responsibilities about doing what's the best for your future and those you care about,” Alex says softly to your blonde sister, which seems to trigger the blonde as she steps back offended.

Kara yells after letting out a sarcastic laugh “That’s what I'm doing, I'm being responsible with my powers! And staying here with Kenny is part of that”

“No, Kara! What you are doing is irresponsible and stupid.”

“You've been in college for two years and you have all the answers?!” The blonde reproaches as she takes a step back from your oldest sister.

“No, I have seen what the real world looks like”

“Okay, then enlighten us with your precious knowledge Alex”

“Kara” You murmured only for her to hear as she kept her stubborn stance.

“There is so much more than this town, there is so much more than using your powers to save people. There is a whole world out there in which I'm happy and I'm more than sure you are going to be too ”

“So this about college now?”

“You just got accepted to the college of your dreams, you have already decided what you wanna do but you haven't told him. You are thinking of sacrificing what you want and what's best for you, don't you see it?!” The redhead yelled 

“This is the thing I'm supposed to do, save people.”

“Dammit Kara, just accept that NCU is the best for you. Please, this is the best for you, let yourself go for it. Do it, I promise it's going to be the best decision of your life, it was mine and I can't be happier to be out of this town just like you are going to be.”

The moment the words left your oldest sister's mouth, the understanding and accepting silence from your blonde sister. Your eyes strained with tears which you try to blink away before trying to walk out of the garage until the voice of your sister pulled you out of your path.

“Y/N?” Kara commented as they watched your back almost walking out of the garage before turning around.

“I'm not going to just stand here, hearing you guys because I'm trying to hold on to something as the two of you want to get out of here without any second thought” You explained to them, keeping your distance. 

“You decided of going to Stanford in a blink of an eye, like if you couldn't even stand to be here anymore. You come when you have to, mom was worried so you came that it’s why you didn't go to Europe but you are counting the minutes to get out of here”

“And since you started to date Kennedy, I never see you anymore. It's like you are here but you don't want to be because don't think I didn't see how your face lit up the moment NCU’s acceptance package came. And now you don't wanna stay but you don't wanna break the boy's heart! And I'm given false hope every day by the guy that you are going to stay but the truth is that you like Alex can't wait to get out of here”

Finishing with your lip trembling, and the obvious tears coming down your cheeks as the last few sentences made your voice crack. “I'm tired because all I feel and all I see is you guys wanting to leave just like he did. And I'm happy for you guys because you guys are happy but it's killing me inside” 

You didn't even wait for their response before turning around rushing through the house immediately, passing through the kitchen unacknowledged your worried mother as she watched you rush with running tears with both of your sisters walking out of the garage with sorry expressions on their faces after you. 

____

Both of your sisters sat on the kitchen island silently as your mother watched them closely, both of them would take turns trying to walk upstairs to see if your door was finally open only to fail as neither of them went up more than two stairs. 

Your mom watched them under glasses as she kept working letting them think for a few minutes before she would intervene. She had heard everything from the garage and she had seen that it was worse than before the moment you ran upstairs with tears streaming down your cheeks. 

Seeing Alex come back for the fifth time to the chair scratching her scalp as she sat, and seeing Kara stop eating the cookies she had baked yesterday made her get out of her chair as she spoke. 

“I know, and I understand you girls. Because I have experienced it but just think for a moment and try to understand her position?” 

Alex and Kara nodded calmly as your blonde mother spoke. Both of them were a little bit more relaxed than before as your mother began explaining.

“She is scared, and her coping mechanisms are not the best. It's scary for her because she is feeling you guys are leaving her just like Jeremiah and Lucy recently did. She is trying and sometimes things work for her and others don't but just like Kara she tends to hide her emotions if it means keeping someone she loves happy.”

“We’re not leaving her” Both of them whispered immediately to themselves questioning how you could think they would leave you.

“And she doesn't understand that you guys are going to leave and come back because some part of her is screaming at her that you guys didn't stay because she made you leave. She doesn't realize you guys are going to come back because she believes that if she believes you guys are not leaving forever then she will get her hopes up, which hopes are going to fall along the way”

“Just like they did with Lucy and Dad” Alex concluded watching Kara put her forehead on the island with sadness. 

Alex nodded at your mom’s words before getting up and walking out to the backyard leaving your blonde sister with your mom in comfortable silence.  “Give her time, she has always needed it and that's the way she heals we can't force it but we can support it”

Your mom knew your sister well enough the blonde was blaming herself as she kept her head down. Your mother rubbed her back comfortably as she waited for Kara to lift her head. 

“I- I should have known” Kara sobbed into your mother’s chest as your mom comforted her while the blonde cried. 

The blonde said her voice cracking in the middle as the tears kept streaming down her cheeks.  “How could-.... How could she think that? How could I let her think that?”

“Honey, it's not that easy she can't help her insecurities especially with what has happened recently”

“I should have been here, I shouldn't have assumed i- ” She started shaking her head as she got up off the stool only to be stopped by the soft voice of your mother putting her hand on your sister's shoulder as she spoke. 

“Kara it's not your fault, it’s no one's fault. She needs to believe you guys are not leaving her, that you guys are going to be with her always no matter what but now she needs time. Sweetheart, she is processing it, she needs to be ready to hear the truth”

Your blonde sister nodded without a second thought before seating back on the stool starting to eat a cookie from the batch.

_______

You sat on the disorganized desk with homework overflowing the table, only to be ignored as you kept playing the guitar with headphones glaring your ears with music as you played. Your soccer uniform was barely inside the laundry bin with the rest of the room full of cables on the floor, drums at the right side of the desk, and the guitar rack at the side of the bed. Your camera was sitting at the end of the bed table with the accessories while the basketball and the soccer balls remained at the side of the door. 

You heard more than once your mom saying ‘Messy room, messy mind’ and until now you hadn't noticed the truth to her words. Your mind was over the place, your trust and abandonment issues coming to play at the worst time of the day. 

You couldn't help but kick yourself remembering what you had said to your sisters, you couldn't stop the voice inside your head screaming at you because of your selfishness. 

How could you break down and ruin their happiness, you didn't want it to hurt, you didn't want to think about them leaving because if you did it hurt you, it broke you. And you couldn't ignore it as much as you tried to.

‘You can't just ignore yourself hurting, Y/N’ That's what your therapist said to you months after losing your dad. And deep down you knew it was true but you had seen the smiles on your sisters' faces, you couldn't just be an obstacle to their happiness. 

After letting everything out of your system, you knew it was normal that they would leave and come back. You wanted it to believe but you were scared to do so. Because if you did and they leave forever then you knew you were going to be devastated, they were a big piece of you just like you were theirs or that's what you hoped for.

The soft knock on your door pulled you out of your head, The grumpy feeling in your stomach didn't help the situation the moment you saw both of your sisters standing at your bedroom door looking very sorry. 

Without a second thought, you left the door open, walking to the bed and sitting looking at your fidgeting hands on your lap as they continued to do the same. Kara at your right side and Alex at your left, the room overtook a complete silence for a few minutes before Kara spoke first.

“We are not leaving you” She claimed reassuringly 

The lump in your throat felt heavier as they waited for your response, the silence which overwhelmed the room made you feel worse. Alex and Kara had shared a look as you kept looking at your hands before throwing each one an arm around your shoulders hugging you closely.

“We are not going to leave you, we are going to be here for you, always” Alex whispered into your temple after you kept silent but grabbed the redhead's arm. 

With bloodshot eyes, you looked up to meet both of your sisters before you asked quietly afraid of the answer. “You promise?”

Both of them met your eye and you could feel their concern the moment their watery eyes met yours. They hadn't seen you like this since the breakdown you had months after your father’s death, the day you first went to the therapist and it scared and hurt them more than ever. 

Kara and Alex without hesitation stakes out their hands with their pinky up, as you hesitantly pinky promise as they spoke simultaneously. “We promise”

Flashback ends

Sweat running down your face as you stood in front of the brunette archer, her face running with blush as she kept punching and dodging you. Her baby hairs sticking out of her ponytail as she kept going. The only sounds heard in the place were the shaky breaths the two of you released every once in a while

Thea remarked as she blocked your punch with her arm “Come on, princess that's all you got?” 

“Actions speak better than words, speedy” You responded softly as you dodged the last three punches the brunette tried to throw while capturing her fist and twisted enough so she couldn’t get out of your grip without hurting her. 

A sly smirk on your face as she struggles, finally after a few seconds you let go stepping backward. The Queen woman pushed back a little harder before grabbing the sticks from the side of the wall seeing you do the same. 

“You know now that I see it, you do have good bone structure” She murmured loud enough only to be heard by you as she scanned your exposed stomach. 

You shook your head as the words left her mouth, immediately beginning to hit her with sticks. Both of you missing a few times, scratching yourselves or the other with the stick.

Both of you were so concentrated in the sparring neither of you noticed the entering presence of Oliver until the man entered the mat with sticks and kept it going. The vigilante didn't hesitate in any of his moves and didn't wait either when Thea fell to the floor with a groan after getting hit by him in the stomach. 

One moment the two of you were scratching, hitting, and blocking each other with the sticks, and the next the two of you were throwing good old punches. The two of you stopped the moment Felicity yelled for an emergency in the City Hall, neither of you commenting the way you had furiously gone for each other like people usually did in the Russian Mafia fighting clubs, for blood.

#baby danvers #supergirl imagine #kara danvers x reader #alex danvers x reader #lena luthor #lena luthor x reader

[littlemisspascal]

The Last Mandalorian

Chapter One: The Warrior in Carbonite Part 3

Fandom: The Mandalorian / Pedro Pascal

Eventual Pairing: Din x Togruta!Female!Reader

Word Count: 4,320

Rating: G

Summary: A series that is a mixture of Mandalorian, Star Wars, ATLA, and my own imagination. The Imps have seized control of the majority of the galaxy, including your homeworld Shili. You and your sister Ahsoka have developed a daily routine despite the stormtroopers keeping your village imprisoned. One morning you make a startling discovery that will change the course of your lives forever.

Warnings: I don’t know much about starship mechanics so probably nothing in this is accurate but it’s fanfiction people so cut me some slack please, reader gets a nickname 🥳, plot plot plot, discussion of loss of loved ones, worldbuilding, dialogue heavy, this is a slow burn but it’s also ridiculously self-indulgent so I’m including as many cute getting-to-know-you scenes as I can, reader is 17 and Din is 19 so I’m going to warn this as underage even though nothing sexual or even vaguely romantic happens in this chapter.

Author Note: Thank you anyone and everyone who has read even a sentence of this story! Special thanks and love to @dindja for creating this stunning, fantastic, amazing piece of fanart for me 💖💖💖 I still can’t believe how perfect it is. I mean, I’m such a sucker for pinky promises it’s not even funny and this is just beautiful 😍😍😍

Part 2

Cross-posted on AO3

For as grand and wide-reaching as the Galactic Empire has become in its ten years of existence, it had relatively small beginnings. A group of radical Force-wielders banded together under the leadership of an old, beady-eyed man named Sheev Palpatine who believed it was his divine destiny to seize control of the entire galaxy, rewriting the ancient laws to match his own beliefs. His cult, the Sith Order, gained attention by attacking Jedi temples, capital cities, places with large populations until every corner of the galaxy had heard of them. Most regarded them with fear, but over time they began garnering a startling amount of followers who were discontent with the status quo and willingly drafted themselves as soldiers in Palpatine’s fight for control.

At first everyone in your village thought Palpatine and his cult of followers weren’t worth worrying about—after all, Shili was a peaceful planet that never drew much attention to itself. But within the first year of its inception, the Sith Order captured Ryloth and the similar peaceful characteristics between the Twi’lek planet and Shili were too glaring to overlook. A seed of anxiety took root in every Togruta’s mind after that, and continued to grow with every planet seized as the years progressed.

The Decimation of Alderaan didn’t start as a tragedy, believe it or not. The Mandalorians, Jedi, and Alderaanians combined their numbers in an all-out fight against the Sith Order. It was the largest battle ever fought in the history of the galaxy, thousands of souls willing to die to defeat Palpatine’s followers. For the first three days of warfare, the fight seemed to be in favor of the allies with many noteworthy Sith members reportedly killed in the fray, such as Palpatine’s second-in-command Dooku and lethal Zabrak assassin Maul. You remember there was a sense of hope felt within your village as everyone listened to the news reports blaring across the Holonet. A belief that things were finally, finally going to return to normal after so much chaos.

But on the fourth day, the Sith Order brought their own ally onto the battlefield.

At the time there wasn’t a name for the droids that slaughtered every opponent they faced. They were described as indestructible, unharmed by blasters and the intense heat of Mandalorian flamethrowers. Not even lightsabers could damage them. The allies didn’t stand a chance, brutally murdered one by one, their dying screams echoing across the Holonet, forever haunting listeners far and wide.

The Dark Troopers were unleashed upon Mandalore afterwards and out of the ashes rose the Galactic Empire, except, in a twist nobody—not even the Sith Order—saw coming: Palpatine died before taking on the title of emperor, passing away in his sleep. A mediocre ending for the monster who permanently altered the foundations of the universe. One of his loyal followers from the cult’s early beginnings took control in his place, a vile man with a penchant for spilling blood and a deceptively bland name: Gideon.

Only seven years-old then, you didn’t understand the unbalance in the Force your aunt kept referencing. You didn’t understand the meaning of the word genocide either. But you did understand the galaxy would never be the same ever again, and the lesson was only further established as truth when the Imperials seized your village. 

There is no normalcy to return to anymore.

And as long as Emperor Gideon remains in control, there is no future to hope for either.

__

Silence reigns in the aftermath of Maar’s explanation as the long list of tragedies hangs heavy over the four occupants. There is tension in the air as you await the Mandalorian’s response to the extinction of his people, whether that be an outburst of anger or tears, and each passing minute only intensifies the nervous energy thrumming through your veins. Your leg starts to bounce restlessly, a bad habit you have had since childhood.

The Mandalorian stands eerily motionless. Your eyes keep flicking from your lap to his visor though you know it is rude to stare. His helmet hides his expression, but you don’t need to see it to know he is floundering right now, mind scrambling to piece together all the details thrown at him. From personal experience, you know the loss of a loved one hits like a tidal wave, hitting you over and over again until you must decide if you are going to stand up or surrender to drowning. Grieving the loss of your parents is the hardest experience of your lifetime to date.

But this...this is vastly different. The Mandalorian didn’t just lose his loved ones. He has lost his friends, neighbors, comrades, acquaintances, everyone all at once. This loss isn’t a tidal wave. It is a kriffing avalanche, burying him ten feet under in total darkness, and there is no one he can count on to save him. 

Finally, after the longest five minutes of your life, he shifts, resting his hands upon his belt with an unexpected air of seriousness. “I need to go.”

You frown, head tilting. That is his reaction?

“Go?” Ahsoka echoes, sounding as incredulous as you feel. “Go where?”

“To look for survivors,” he answers, blunt and harsh, the words forced through clenched teeth. 

Ahsoka is struck silent, and you feel your heart break on his behalf. Your mother’s stories about the Mandalorians had always included, one way or another, their lifelong bonds with each other. You had felt those ties when you had connected with the Mandalorian, believed for a moment as strongly as he did that his fellow warriors would come search for him, that his absence would be noticed and missed amongst them. And here he is now, still desperately clutching to them, unable—or, perhaps unwilling is more apt—to believe a stranger telling him those bonds have been cruelly severed. 

“What you need is to rest,” Maar says, gentle yet firm, letting her authority as the eldest in the room seep into her tone.

He shakes his head, not backing down. “I’ve been asleep for ten years. I don’t need any more rest.”

“Your ship, it, uh,” your shoulders hike up defensively when his visor snaps in your direction, pinning you with its blank stare. Clearing your throat, you continue with a slight grimace, “It’s going to need some repairs before it can take off. I can help you fix it.”

Ahsoka looks over at you in surprise, and then in worry. You don’t blame her, especially since the offer had slipped out without you consciously meaning it to. Once again, the Force is calling the shots and you are just along for the ride, a passenger in your own body.

He considers you for a long moment, then asks, “What do you know about the mechanics of a gunship?” 

If anyone else had asked you that same exact question, you would have bristled at their condescension and retracted your offer in the next breath. But with the Mandalorian, there isn’t even the slightest hint of patronizing courtesy. It is a serious question prompted from genuine curiosity.

You sit up straighter, smiling at him now. “Enough to confidently say I’m your best shot at getting off the ground.”

__

“What’s your plan, exactly?” Ahsoka asks you, braced against the wall with one eye on you and one on the Mandalorian across the garage, patiently waiting for you to finish assembling your tool kit. 

“Huh?” You reply distractedly, trying to decide if you should bring your carbon chisel or not. 

“You don’t have one, do you?”

Not. There are bigger concerns than a bit of carbon scoring. You move to grab your favorite screwdriver with a tapered socket, only for Ahsoka to snatch it away, holding the tool hostage.

“Hey!”

“Have you thought about what you’re doing?” Ahsoka asks slowly, staring you directly in the eyes. “Once you fix his ship, he’s gone. And he’s taking our best chance at escaping Shili with him.”

A quick glance over your shoulder shows the Mandalorian studying the scattered BB unit parts on your workbench. You are missing a few vital components needed in order to bring the little droid back to life after a stormtrooper shot a plasma bolt through it for accidentally bumping into his leg, and haven’t had any luck convincing the village traders to track them down for you when they went to the capital. 

“We can’t keep him here against his will,” you manage at last, turning back to your sister. “Otherwise we’re no better than the Imps.”

When Ahsoka doesn’t say anything, you shrug a shoulder, adding, “Besides, I think I’m supposed to fix it for him. The Force seems pretty insistent about it.”

She makes a face at that. “I liked you better when you ignored your Force instincts. You didn’t make me worry as much.”

A laugh escapes you, embarrassingly loud in the otherwise quiet space, and your cheeks immediately start burning. Ahsoka’s lip twitches like she wants to smile, but instead she schools her features into a blank expression when the Mandalorian’s head turns at the sound. Only once he diverts his attention elsewhere again does her stare lose some of its intensity, looking less like she wants to dissect him beneath a microscope. You can practically see her protective-older-sister-instincts buzzing, reacting to the warrior’s presence. 

As much as he is a chance at providing an escape, he is also first and foremost a complete and total stranger. Even worse, he is a complete and total stranger who knows how to handle weapons. 

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” You squeeze her arm reassuringly. “Shouldn’t take longer than a couple of hours. You’ll be so busy smoothing the Elders’ ruffled feathers you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Ahsoka finally relinquishes the tool, exhaling a quiet sigh. “You shouldn’t make promises you don’t know for certain you can keep.”

__

Walking side by side with the Mandalorian in silence isn’t awkward, per se, but it definitely isn’t comfortable either. He is close enough your arm keeps accidentally grazing against his, the cold brush of metal against your skin startling you each time. You would have considered his nearness strange if you hadn’t heard Ahsoka threaten to castrate him if you wound up hurt before she sent him flying at the juni tree branch outside your window with an unnecessarily strong push of Force. 

To his credit, the warrior handled her rough treatment with the same ease he has handled everything else thrown at him. You are beginning to think Mandalorians don’t just wear beskar—they are made of it too. Other than the few glimpses of frustration earlier in Maar’s office, he keeps his cards close to his chest, impossible to read. 

He watches everything though, reacting to the slightest of movements and sounds. Constantly alert. You are certain he is watching you right now, despite the fact his helmet is facing forward, your nerves prickling in response to the sensation of eyes upon you.

To your surprise, he is the one to break the silence first. “You sneak out often.”

It is a statement, not a question. 

You suppose the dots are easy enough to connect to reach that conclusion. Still, the certainty in his voice has your heart skipping a nervous beat. He hasn’t even known you a day and yet he is privy to secrets no one outside your community is aware of. “Yeah,” you nod your head after a brief lapse of silence, “Ahsoka can’t train in the village. Not with the stormtroopers around.”

“Has your village tried to run them out? Fight back?”

It is only because you know he is just trying to understand your village’s predicament with the little bits of information he has that you don’t snap at him for being so insensitive. He has no idea what these past five years have been like for you all. No idea the amount of losses and sacrifices the community has suffered. 

Your grip on your tool kit tightens. “I was twelve when they came. The community is mostly traders and hunters, not trained fighters. The few weapons we had were nothing compared to their blaster rifles, but some of the adults tried to defend the village, including our parents. They...” You swallow, or try to, at least, your throat suddenly dry as sand. “Our aunt looked after us until last year we woke up one morning to find a note she’d left to join the rebellion. We haven’t had any contact with her since.”

The Mandalorian’s gloved hand brushes against your knuckles. This time you think it might have been on purpose.

“I lost my parents as a child, too. There was a riot and they died protecting me,” he offers his own private details with the same reluctance as one volunteering to have their teeth pulled out. “The Mandalorians took me in, raised me as one of their own.”

You say nothing about the way his breath slightly hitches when he says Mandalorians, appreciating his openness as it puts you both on somewhat equal footing with each other. 

“I owe it to them to look for survivors,” he tells you, and your montrals detect the quietest hint of a plea in his voice. 

“I understand,” you answer, keeping your tone light to preserve the fragility of this moment. This kind of situation doesn’t happen often—two strangers on the same wavelength, exposing their vulnerable underbellies, desperate to be heard and yet skittish at the same time—and it is oddly therapeutic. 

A decision is made right then and there in the span of a heartbeat. And even more significantly, it is 100% your own choice without any intervention or manipulation from the Force. 

You stop walking, causing the Mandalorian to halt as well. He scans the area for a threat, then visibly jerks when he turns back to find you have your hand held out towards him, pinky raised high, reacting as if you are pointing a weapon at him.

“I don’t understand,” he says, blunt and almost suspicious sounding. Are you just imagining it or can you actually hear him frowning? “What are you doing?”

“Haven’t you ever made a pinky promise with someone before?”

“...A what?”

You snort, ducking your head to hide your smile, and then reach for his hand. Surprisingly, he doesn’t protest your touch.

“A pinky promise,” you repeat as you make his hand form a fist, curling his fingers towards his palm, and then adjust his pinky so you can wrap yours around it. He watches the whole process wordlessly. “It’s a sacred vow shared between two people. The Elders say once it’s sworn, the promise can never be broken.”

He cocks his head, skeptical. “Never?”

“Never,” you reaffirm with a nod. Licking your lips, you look at his visor, right where you instinctively know his eyes are staring back. “I promise I’m going to help you. No matter the odds.”

And something leaks into your voice then, something resolute and binding and otherworldly. A tremor shoots down your spine, too quick for you to make sense of it.

Your sister’s words echo in the back of your mind, ‘You shouldn’t make promises you don’t know for certain you can keep.’ 

You try to pull away, self-doubt gnawing a hole in your stomach, only for the Mandalorian to wrap his pinky tighter around yours, holding you still. A gasp escapes your lips, muffled by the bleeding sincerity in his voice as he swears:

“I promise I will be there when you need me. No matter the odds.”

And although your sister could undoubtedly provide you with a long list of reasons why you shouldn’t, you believe his promise to be true.

__

The Mandalorian heaves a heavy sigh at the sight of his crashed ship. 

“I can’t do much about the landing gear,” you inform him, believing honesty to be the best policy for cases like this. “And I brought some foam-jet for the cockpit viewport, but it’s not a permanent fix. You’re going to have to find someone offworld to replace them.”

“Right,” he agrees absently without turning his eyes away. It occurs to you then that this ship is the closest thing to a home he has now. One of the few precious relics from his past he can still physically cling to. 

“Does your ship have a name?” you ask.

He looks at you, as if coming back to self-awareness, and answers, “Razor Crest.”

A good name, you think. Strong. A bit mysterious. Just like its owner.

You nod decisively. “I like it.”

His modulator crackles faintly, a quiet noise produced from a sudden exhale of air. You blink at the unexpected sound, surprised to realize you recognize it. A laugh. The Mandalorian just laughed at something you said. What is next in store for you? Are akul going to sprout wings and start flying?

He steps around you, heading for the side entry door still open from yesterday with its ramp laying on the ground, pebbles shifting noisily beneath his boots with each step. You don’t realize you are staring, oddly entranced by the swish of his cape and his purposeful strides, until he calls out your name to ask if you are coming.

You nearly drop your tool kit in your haste to follow after him into the Crest’s interior, ignoring the flaring heat radiating from your cheeks. 

For the next few hours, you and the Mandalorian work in companionable silence, engrossed in rerouting wires and welding damaged components with your trusty hand torch. The gunship is older than you initially assumed, perhaps even as old as yourself, and you idly wonder if the Mandalorian found it in a scrapyard somewhere or maybe inherited it from another Mandalorian. You notice the way he handles each piece with an experienced and respectful touch; the same kind of care someone reserves for their most cherished possessions. Anyone with eyes can see how much he loves the Crest just by watching him.

Once you have finished sealing the numerous cracks dissecting the cockpit’s viewport like a spiderweb with foam, you approach the Mandalorian to see his progress on returning power to the dashboard. He is on his back beneath the steering controls, rearranging a mess of wires, and barely acknowledges your presence when you squeeze yourself into the tight space next to him.

“The red wire goes before the white one,” you point out, noticing the mistake immediately. “Fire hazard.”

He pauses, looks at where you have gestured, and corrects his error without criticizing your intervention. You bite back a smile, pleased to be heard. Within your community, even though you have proven your skills time and time again, some of the villagers, usually men, don’t always adhere to your advice, thinking you are too young and too female to know about technology, until they inevitably make their problems worse for themselves and come back to you with their metaphorical tail between their legs. 

You help him reattach the cover plating once he has finished, screwing the bolts back into their corners, and then watch, fingers crossed, as he attempts the ignition sequence, flipping a series of switches.

None of them light up with even the faintest flicker of life.

“Dank farrik,” he growls under his breath, slamming a fist upon the console.

You take a tiny step forward, hesitant to direct his frustration your way. “Can I try?” 

He tilts his head, probably thinking he knows this ship better than anyone and if it doesn’t work for him then you aren’t going to have any luck either.

Eventually he steps back with a shrug, uttering a simple, “Sure.” 

Although you can’t remember the last time you were on a ship, it doesn’t take long to refamiliarize yourself with the various controls and screens once you take a seat in the pilot chair. When your hobby for fixing broken machines changed into a passion you wanted to pursue as a future career, you started memorizing any reading material you could find on the Holonet, including the flight manuals for different classes of starships. You flip through the stored information in your mind about gunships as you press a few buttons on the panel overhead, trying out different sequences for a response.

When your third attempt fails, you bite your lip, racking your brain for a solution. You think about Huno’s kitchen droid and how you had been on the verge of ripping off one of your head-tails trying to repair it after one of its fuses blew, causing it to malfunction. Your tools and knowledge hadn’t been able to fix it in the end. It had required a special remedy to bring it back to life.

You lay your palms flat on the console, just as you had held onto the droid’s square torso. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the Mandalorian fidget, as if he wants to come closer but is hesitant to crowd you. You ignore him, pressing your fingertips harder against the metal, visualizing in your mind the unseen gears, cables, and components stiff and powerless. You imagine the parts working properly, a current of electricity running through each wire, life ultimately returning to the entire ship, and whisper under your breath a request to the Force.

“Please work, please work, please work…”

An invisible pulse of energy burns down the length of your arms and discharges through your fingertips, strong enough you jerk backwards against the seat. Every button and screen on the dashboard lights up all at once, beeping with alarm at being so rudely resurrected.

You sit there helplessly, stunned and breathless, hands twitching in your lap. The kitchen droid hadn’t required even half as much energy to restart, barely a pinch. Now your body feels like you have been thrown against the electric fence a dozen times. Wordlessly, the Mandalorian comes to your side to help, punching buttons and turning knobs until the alarms quit blaring. A distant part of your brain thinks the Razor Crest as a whole seems strangely soothed by his presence, not quite as cold and dark, but it is hard to follow that train of thought due to the distracting pain throbbing along your temples.

“That’s quite a spark you’ve got,” he says, not unkindly or accusingly, just a statement of the obvious. He looks down at you, not outright asking for an explanation, but giving you the opportunity to open up if you wanted to.

“Yep, that’s me,” you reply, forcing a cheerful smile, praying it doesn’t resemble a grimace. “Sparks Tano at your service.”

He chuckles again, oblivious to how your heart stutters at its raspiness. “Thank you, Sparks. I appreciate it.”

“Well, we’re not done yet.” You rub at your temples under the guise of adjusting your headband. “I need to take a closer look at the engines before we attempt flying out of here. I—”

“I’ll do it,” he cuts in, already heading for the ladder. “You stay here, see if you can update the navicomputer settings.”

You know he knows that updating the navicomputer is child’s play for you. Clearly you aren’t as great at concealing your pain as you thought you were and this is his way of giving you a break. A small part of you is irritated at being treated like a porcelain doll, but you push those negative feelings aside as quickly as they develop. Your aunt always used to remind you and Ahsoka it was okay to accept help when it was offered, that needing support didn’t in any way make you weak. 

“Hey, wait a second,” you call out as you spin around in your seat, freezing him right before he disappears from view into the hull. He holds onto the ladder, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“Back at Maar’s place you didn’t introduce yourself and it’s weird just calling you Mandalorian in my head,” you say, awkwardly drumming your fingers on top of the armrests. He doesn’t answer, eliciting a sigh from your mouth after a drawn-out beat of silence. “What’s your name? You do have one, right?”

��I do, but I can’t tell you it,” he admits at last. “By Mandalorian Creed, only other Mandalorians or my riduur—my spouse,” he corrects, seeing your confusion, “are allowed to know my name and see my face. This is the Way.”

He doesn’t linger to hear your response, dropping down into the hull with a resounding thud. You slowly turn back around, staring absently out the glass. Every culture is unique, including your own, but you think there is something especially interesting about the Mandalorians’. It sounds like a lonely existence, only able to show your face while in select company. What would have happened if he had been unconscious and you had slipped the helmet off his head? What consequence would he have faced? 

And if there truly aren’t any Mandalorians left besides him, his spouse will be the only one to ever know him completely. It almost sounds like a love story, if not a little bit heart-wrenching. 

Two high-pitched dings from the console jerk you out of your thoughts with a wince. You look for the source, finding the radar lit up and actively scanning the area, and bristle when you see a pair of red dots moving across the screen. 

Not even a minute later you are sprinting out of the cave, ignoring the Mandalorian’s alarmed shout from the roof of the Razor Crest. They’re early, you think with panic, looking towards the sky where two starships with Imperial logos are heading straight for your village. Why have they come back so soon?

You push your legs to run faster, your surroundings a blur beyond the trail in front of you, but the effort is meaningless. You won’t make it back home before they land.

And when your absence is noted, bloodshed is not a possibility. 

It is a guarantee.

Series taglist: @pedro4ever @cannedsoupsucks

Din Djarin Taglist: @a-skov @pedrosbisch @quica-quica-quica @stevie75 @iamskyereads @banga-sama @dincrypt @ohlawdthebirds​

Permanent taglist: @promiscuoussatan @vintagesaph @over300books @chibi-yuki @theocatkov @oh-no-a-whovian @absurdthirst @freeshavocadoooo @you-and-i-deserve-the-world @lin-djarin @happiestsparkleofall @randomness501 @gallowsjoker @coaaster @captain-jebi @leilei-draws @disgruntledspacedad @melobee @stilllivindue2spite @pointy-sharp @artsymaddie @waywardmando @asta-lily @thisshipwillsail316 @mylifeofcalculatedchaos @grogusmum @sherala007 @mejswho @uncle-kenobi @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives @tacticalsparkles @mandocrasis @littlebopper96 @you-got-me-starry-eyed @kiss-evans @writeforfandoms @pbeatriz @anaaaispunk

#my fic #my writing #Mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian fanfic #Din Djarin #din x you #din x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #togruta reader #ahsoka tano #the last mandalorian #pedrostories #art

[tatestripedsweater]

Sinner

Plot: You were known as any mans dream, the innocent virgin girl that went to church on Sunday’s. It all changed once you met the boy who intended to destroy that innocence.

Warnings: Sexual Intercourse, Oral (Male Receiving), Blasphemy, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Not proof red properly

Teen!James x Teen!Fem!Reader

Word count: 2958

A/N: The names of his parents are solely made up since we don’t know anything about them

1913

Being the son of the priest within the local church he had learned when to speak and when not too, but the one thing he learned was not to treat a woman like his own father treated his mother. And due to this he started to shit on every word his father, Patrick, had told him from a very young age: ‘If a woman doesn’t do as she’s told a beating wouldn’t go a miss’.

James didn’t believe that to be true, in fact he was the one that got most of the beatings within the household because of him disagreeing with his fathers outlook on women. James saw them as delicate creatures, you were what could be compared to a flower blossoming, showing it’s true beauty to the world.

“Come here James” Not saying a word he let his mother do his tie once again, no matter how many times he did it she always saw something wrong with the way he tied it. It wasn’t in a horrible way either, Dorothy knew how her husband reacted if his family wasn’t looking their best at church.. or anywhere for that matter.

James almost choked at how tight she had done his tie, loosening it when she wasn’t looking he only smiled. He sometimes wondered what his mother saw in his father to marry him, was it his wealth? Probably.

“You know he doesn’t like it loose James..” Her soft voice was the only thing that spoke within the drawing room. Dorothy could only laugh slightly at her only child’s defiance, part of her worried for his life as well but she didn’t dare say a word against her husband. “You know.. there’s going to be plenty of girls at today’s service”

She spoke of this every time, being eighteen he should’ve already been married or at least courting a woman to do so. James wanted to marry, but on his own terms and not just some random girl his parents thought would suit him the best. He already knew who his mother and father had eyed him up to marry, James didn’t want to admit he found her beautiful as it would be following what his father was saying. He wasn’t a follower, James was a leader.

“Y/N is a lovely girl, comes from a wonderful family” James knew his mother meant well, she wanted her only boy.. only child to succeed in life. “Just try, please..?”

“I’ll speak with her after the service..” He couldn’t help but feel some satisfaction when he saw the smile grace his mother’s features, and with all that was said and done he wrapped his arm around her own before walking out of the family home together.

-

Sitting down near the back even though his father liked his family to be front and center, James couldn’t help but smile when he saw that you were sitting beside him. James could feel his mother’s eyes on him, she knew what he was up to without even asking. Dorothy could read her son like a book, she birthed the boy after all, but one thing she knew is that he wasn’t like his father and for that she thanked god.

You could smell the tobacco and cologne as soon as he sat down beside you, the thoughts that were going through your head were that of a whore so you refused to even make eye contact with him. James could tell you were hanging on to all the bullshit his father spoke off, just by the way you were dressed he could see that you were a good Christian girl, probably a virgin as well.

“It’s not polite to ignore the Priest’s son..” James hoped this would catch your attention and thankfully it did, gulping out of nerves your head turned to look over at him, both of your eyes meeting. “I’m James'' He decided to whisper so no one heard that the two of you were speaking at the same time as his fathers sermon.

“Y/N..” A soft smile landed on your face as you spoke to him, your voice was as soft as honey, almost like his favourite symphony. James could help but become aroused at the very sight of you, you weren’t doing anything promiscuous, in fact the innocent aura that surrounded you was the thing that made his cock harden in his slacks.

As the sermon went on, James’ thoughts only muted his fathers voice. All he could think about was your body, how you’d feel wrapped around his cock and the little whimpers that would escape as soon as he thrusted his cock inside your virgin cunt. James wasn’t a virgin himself, he lost it to some girl he couldn’t even remember the name of, she wasn’t important right now but you were. These thoughts were cut short when everyone stood up, some having started to leave. Had he really been day dreaming the entire time?

His mother looked at him from across the church and he knew what she was getting at, he had earlier promised to speak to you alone after the service was over. James didn’t know how his mother had convinced him to leave James alone in the place of worship, but James noticed a slight smirk on his fathers face as he walked past. Patrick must’ve thought that James was finally going to follow his instruction and marry a girl, but what James had planned was far from the truth.

He watched as you moved to sit at the very front, you looked up at a statue of The Lord as if you had some repenting to do. James wondered what you could’ve done that was so wrong, probably stepping on a bug because he couldn’t even imagine that you would do anything that was considered a sin. The only noise in the church were James’ footsteps as he walked closer to you, the rest of the town having left minutes before.

“You know, Jesus can’t save you” A shocked expression plastered over your face as soon as that left James’ mouth, you didn’t expect this and him of all people, the Priests son. “Whatever you have done, I can assure you he won’t save you.”

“What makes you say that..?” You didn’t dare look up at him, you kept your eyes on the statue that was half the size of the church walls. James didn’t know how to answer that question, well he did but the boy didn’t want to admit that he was weak at the hands of his father. He used to pray, every night in fact, that something or someone would come and take his father away.. that James would be saved from the countless beatings that were bestowed upon himself and his mother but alas.. nothing. So the praying stopped as did James’ belief at salvation.

“Just trust me dear” The small nickname wasn’t much, but it made your cheeks blush a bright red which didn’t go unnoticed by James. He could tell you weren’t used to much affection yourself, and he was right. Your parents were just as strict as his own but with the abuse, so if they knew you were alone with a boy even if it was the priest's father, there would be hell to pay when you got home.

“I-I should go..” Just as you stood up James moved so he was right in front of you, he was taller than you so the intimidation flowed through your body. “Please.. I should get home” Gasping softly, his hand gently placed itself on your cheek, you had never felt something so soft before.

“What did you do? What caused you to stay behind?” Your nervous demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by him, in fact James stepped even closer to you as he pulled his hand away. “Tell me..”

“I… I have these thoughts..” Gulping visibly you looked over at James just as he raised his eyebrow, urging you to go on. “S-sexual thoughts..” Just as that left your mouth a smirk landed itself on the boy's face, you out of everyone was the last person he expected to be thinking about getting fucked. Part of him was glad, you weren’t the sweet and innocent girl you made yourself out to be but the other part.. the other part wanted to punish you and fuck you until you were screaming like a banshee.

“Are they about me?” The bluntness of the question made you quickly look away from him, he wasn’t wrong and in fact whenever you touched yourself James was the one thought that always made you cum. You knew it was wrong, that lust was a sin and that you needed to beg for forgiveness.. but why did something that felt so good be so wrong?

Nodding slowly you couldn’t get any words out, afraid that you might spill too much truth if you did open your mouth. The next question that he asked had you blushing like a whore, in fact you even felt like one with the way you had reacted.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” Shaking your head slowly, James’ hand gripped onto your wrist and placed it upon the bulge that was forming in his slacks. “You feel that, that’s what you do to me Y/N! Now get on your knees and start praying!”

Pushing you down by your shoulders, your face came into contact with his crotch and you soon felt your cheeks heat up. You watched as his hands started to unbuckle his belt, his hands were big and the watch on his wrist only screamed that he was rich. Just as his belt came off his slacks soon fell to the floor once he unbuttoned them, you could see the outline off his cock in James’ briefs and the gulps down your throat didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Pull them down” Your shaking hands gripped onto the tops of his briefs before doing as you were told, as soon as you pulled them down his cock made its presence known. Pre cum was already forming at the tip of his cock, and you soon felt yourself grow aroused the longer you stared at it. “Wrap your lips around my cock, you don’t want me to make you”

Your wet mouth wrapped around his cock and you had to be honest, the sensation and taste was odd, you didn’t know how to describe it. But the noise that came from James as soon as you started to suck his cock was enough to make your cunt went, the saltiness of his skin and the feeling of his hands moving into your hair had you whining against him.

“Take my cock!” A gagging noise was heard as soon as his cock hit the back of your throat, tears falling down your cheeks as he continued to assault your throat. Your hands moved up to dig into his hips as he practically fucked your mouth, not being used to this at all the gagging kept up as did the drool that fell from your lips and down onto his balls. “Good girl!”

He pulled your head away just to have a good look at you, your lips were swollen and eyes red from the tears. You half expected him to thrust back into your mouth, to finish what he had started but you were surprised when James pulled you back up to your feet.

“Look at you.. if only your parents could see you now” The thought of them walking back into the church had you gulp, the drool falling from your mouth was wiped by James’ handkerchief. “As much as I want to taste you, and trust me I do my dear, I want my cum inside you this second!”

Bending you over the podium, James couldn’t help but smirk at how he had you. Your dress riding up, showing your underwear as he bent you over the very place his father spew about all the bullshit and gods ‘plan’. The only plan that was in James’ mind was fucking you until you were screaming, he knew it would echo and he half hoped that people would hear the two off you. What were they going to do? Pry you apart with his cock still inside you? He doesn’t think so.

As soon as the cold air hit your cunt you knew he had pulled your underwear down, being bare behind a boy you rarely knew had you blushing. He was the priest's son.. so surely he knew what he was doing. The moment you felt his cock rub against your wet cunt was the moment a moan fell from your lips, the way he was grinding against your clit felt so good and you didn’t know why something like this would be considered a sin at all. You were in heaven.. but if this meant you would go to hell for having sex out of wedlock then they can throw you downstairs and lock up the key.

Leaning over you, his chest pressed against your own, James’ lips kissing your shoulder as he slowly slid his cock inside you. You had never felt a sensation like it, you were half expecting it to hurt with all the horror stories you heard but it didn’t. The only sensation you felt was fullness, being full of James’ cock. A grunt felt from your lips as he felt you wrap around him, you were made for his cock and he couldn’t wait to make you his.

��Darling..” Wrapping his arm around you to help you keep balanced against the podium, James’ hips started to thrust faster and the only noise in the church were both of your moans and his skin slapping against yours. You could feel his balls hitting your clit with each thrust and it only added to the sensation of being fucked, James continued to kiss and nip at your skin until he was happy he had left a bite mark. He was careful though, he left it on your back, making sure that no one would see and that he would be the only one who knew you to be such a harlot.

“Y-you feel so good..” The moans that fell from your lips bounced off the walls of the church, the podium shaking with each hard thrust that James had delivered to you. The both of you were in absolute pleasure and not anyone could stop it, James wouldn’t let anyone stop you both. He could feel how wet your cunt was getting with each thrust he delivered to you, the wet noises as he pounded into you was enough to emit a growl from his throat. He needed this, and he needed you.

“Mine!” James was a rather possessive boy, he liked owning things and right now he owned you. Moving one of his hands down, his finger made contact with your clit and rubbed it in circles with the rhythm of his thrusts, which seemed to be getting slipper by the second and he knew he was going to cum inside you any minute. But he wanted you to cum first, James wanted to hear you scream out his name.

Your legs started to turn to jelly the more pressure he applied to your clit, you were almost seeing stars and part of you felt like you were going to pass out right then and there. But you managed to hold off, your knuckles turned white as you gripped onto the sides of the podium before screaming loudly. James took pleasure in hearing this, it was like someone was getting murdered and fucked at the same time.

“That’s it! Cum for me!” Your cunt started to tighten around his cock like a vice, no matter how many women he fucked James couldn’t get used to the sensation of a woman coming undone underneath him. You looked like a goddess and honestly he wouldn’t be surprised if you actually were one, your cunt was leaking onto the wooden floors underneath you both and just the very sight of that had James fill you up with his seed. “Fuck!”

Gasping at the sensation, you didn’t actually expect him to finish inside you. You thought it was just some fantasy of his, but never thought he would actually go through with it due to the risk of pregnancy. “Shh.. take my cum, every last drop!”

James had you practically pinned between him and the podium, panting heavily against your shoulder you couldn’t help but think of the consequences of your actions. You were going to have to do some repenting after this otherwise you could see yourself meeting the man downstairs, your cheeks were flushed from the very thought of his cock still being inside you. His cum coated the insides of your cunt, James was surely going to impregnate you at this point and that meant you’d have to marry him.

Mrs March.. that sounded nice. You were pulled apart from your thoughts as he kissed your shoulder once again, where he had left the love bite as if to smooth you. James may have fucked you like a whore, and he may have treated you like one during the short time you spend together but you couldn’t help but wonder if there was a softer side to the man behind you. His hands caressed your hips and your question was answered almost instantly, you didn’t even need to ask him to know the answer.

“Marry me..” You weren’t surprised as he whispered that in your ear, James couldn’t help but smirk as your cheeks flushed red. “Marry me Miss Cortez..”

#american horror story #american horror story gifs #ahs #ahs gifs #ahs imagine #american horror story imagine #ahs imagines #ahs hotel #american horror story hotel #james march #james march imagine

[ismokechurros]

misunderstandings - ao3

When his mark first appeared, he hated it. He was five and didn't quite like that the first thing he would ever hear his soulmate say would be

"I'm sorry."

What did that mean? Would his soulmate hurt him? Would that be the very first thing they did? That can't bode well for a long term relationship. 

Besides that depressing thought, another issue he had with it was how common it was. People apologized every day, how was he supposed to find her?

His first mistake was thinking it was his kindergarten teacher, who apologized after he ran into her feet. It was hard to explain to his parents why he got sent to the principal's office on his first day of school, hugging a teacher's leg and professing your undying love for them isn't exactly a common offense. 

After that, he tried not to get too excited when he heard those words. And as time went by, he succeeded. Slowly, his head stopped shooting up everytime someone near him apologized, his heart rate stopped skyrocketing when a passerby said sorry, he grew to feel the general disdain and doubt most feel in accompaniment with apologies. 

Those two, meaningless words scrawled at the top of his right bicep were left ignored and he went on forgetting they existed for the better part of 17 years.

----------

She was five when her mark appeared, too, though that seemed to be a common age for the mark's development so she wasn't exactly surprised. What she was surprised by was the 

"You're okay."

now sprawled on the bottom right side of her neck. An odd place for an odd mark. 

In her five-year-old indignation, she resented the fact that her mark was telling her what she was. She could be not okay if she wanted to be, who was her soulmate to tell her that she wasn't! 

A stupid fight to pick, and one she dropped after about two minutes. That was how long it took before the girl next to Nancy screamed and then started crying. Apparently, Amy didn't like that the first words her soulmate would say to her would be asking for her starbucks order. 

Nancy decided it could be worse.

---------

Working at The Claw can't be that bad, Nancy thinks as she enters the restaurant for her first day at work. She needs to get her mind off of her mother's death and making a few bucks in the process couldn't hurt. Plus, it would help ease the financial burden of college- if she still stood a chance of getting in, that is. Her senior grades (and attendance rate) weren't exactly "Columbia Material", no matter how good her essay was. 

Walking from the door to the back room, Nancy makes sure to take into account everything she sees on the way. Two truckers eating greasy cheeseburgers at the counter; a woman drinking coffee alone at a table; a family celebrating their daughter's graduation in a booth. Another reminder of the life Nancy won't get to lead.

Reaching up, Nancy rubs the side of her neck where she knows, under several layers of foundation, there's a reminder that she's okay. Her soul mark has grown to be something of a saviour for her these past couple months. A reassurance everytime it seemed her demons were getting a little too close to snuffing out her light, her crutch at her most debilitating moments. Nancy thinks, whoever her soulmate is, they must be a decent person if they’re able to give her this much comfort.

“Drew! Your uniform’s in the back, I’m not paying you to stand there and look pretty! You did enough of that in high school!” 

Ah yes, George. No matter how many times Nancy tries to proclaim her innocence, George refuses to believe she didn’t play a part in spreading the rumors that ruined her life in high school. And honestly, maybe she was right. Nancy may not have spread any rumors, but she definitely didn’t stop them. Maybe she does deserve George’s wrath. Besides, what’s another person added to the list of “People Nancy Drew Has Failed”. George can go right under her mom. 

At this rate, she might need to put more foundation on her mark.

“Now, Drew!”

Eh, she’ll do it at lunch.

-----------

One month in and Nancy thinks she’s got the job down pat. She’s at least doing better than some people. 

Dishes clatter in the kitchen as pots hit the floor. 

“Oops! Sorry!”

Speak of the devil. Nancy goes to the kitchen to help Bess, because Bess has needed nothing but help since the day George gave her the job, but when she opens the door she's met with a peculiar scene.

Bess, the endearing clutz she is, is on the floor trying to pick up the pots but somehow making a bigger mess. Ace, on the other hand, is just staring.

Nancy hasn’t known Ace very long, hasn’t even talked to him directly, but from what she’s seen he’s at least helpful. He cleans up after himself, stays late to do inventory, cleans out the grease traps, all without complaining. Yet here he is, staring at Bess on the floor and doing nothing.

Nancy wants to call out, ask why he isn’t helping, or at the very least say excuse me on her way to help Bess collect the pans, but oddly enough she can’t find the words. She just stares at him with that confused look on her face. 

It seems she doesn’t need to say anything, though. As if the question on her face was spoken aloud, Ace snaps out of his reverie and bends to help Bess. He’s smiling at her a little too much, and Nancy can tell where this is heading before he even opens his mouth. She decides to make a clean exit before she’s forced to watch him try and fail to shoot his shot with her royal waitress Bess.

------

Nancy just needs a minute. She needs a second to breathe. Serving her high school friends and having to listen to their patronizing and pitying tones while she can hear them laughing the second she turns around is not what she signed up for.

To make matters worse, she’s about one more rub away from her mark making its presence known and she doesn’t need the added stares today. She doesn’t quite understand the taboo of revealing your soulmark to others, but today may not be the best day to tackle generations worth of unnecessary forced modesty.

She rushes through the back door, the mocking sounds of laughter cut off as the door swings shut behind her. Apparently god isn’t on her side, though, because the second the door shuts, the freezer opens and Bess exits carrying boxes stacked a good foot higher than her. Boxes that topple over as she tries to close the freezer behind her.

Normally, Nancy would help Bess out. God knows she’s gotten used to it, and Bess is a nice enough girl that Nancy doesn’t totally hate doing it. But right now, the noise from the boxes is too loud and sounds suspiciously like laughter and Nancy can’t really breathe so she doesn’t think getting near the cold, thin air of the freezer is gonna help her.

And so she ignores Bess’ apologies and pleading eyes and instead barges through the backdoor, hoping to get some much needed air in the alleyway behind The Claw. Instead, she faceplants into a cotton cladded wall.

“I’m sorry.” 

She maneuvers around the person she ran into, avoiding eye contact and desperate for some space. She reaches the wall across from the door and puts a hand on the cool brick hoping it’ll help ground her. Leaning forward against the wall, the other hand immediately goes to her neck.

“You’re okay.”

Suddenly, struggling to breathe is less of an issue than not breathing altogether. 

Nancy slowly turns and stares at the man who she is destined to spend the rest of her life with.

Ace slowly blinks back.

“Are you okay?” He asks, concerned. Nancy can’t really respond, considering the fact that she can’t breathe.

“Woah, Nancy. You don’t look so hot.” Great, my soulmate thinks I’m ugly. Nancy urges herself to use her actual brain for a second instead of whatever it is she’s using now because obviously that one isn’t working.

Still, she says nothing. Ace takes the silence as an invitation to lean against the wall across from her. They continue to stare at each other; her like a deer in the headlights and him entirely too mellow for someone who just found their soulmate. Unless he didn’t.

That’s not a thought Nancy wants to have. But now that it’s out there, she can’t stop thinking about it. Does it work like that? Can the whole soulmate thing go unrequited? Some memory escapes the precipes of her mind, a brief chapter on soulmate history she had to read for class. It was her senior history class, so she didn’t really pay attention, but she does remember reading something in there about a rare percentage of the population that had one sided soul marks.  She also remembers thinking about how sad of a life they must lead.

And it's not like she's wrong about this, especially since Nancy’s heart feels like it’s about to explode and she instinctively knows the only thing that can calm her down is standing there, staring at her with glazed eyes.

“Want one?” Ace asks, materializing a blunt out of seemingly thin air. “They always help calm me down.” 

Now the glazed eyes make more sense. Nancy reaches for it without thinking, the brief touch of their fingertips as the weed changes hands works wonders for calming her down. She is finally thinking a little clearer, breathing a little easier. She stands taller and some of the tension escapes her body.

“See? Works wonders for the nerves.”

If he wants to attribute her abrupt demeanor shift to his weed, she won’t correct him. Instead, she thinks about how this is the first real time he has talked to her. She wishes it happened sooner, his voice reminds her of waves crashing on the shore and when he talks she thinks she’s found her happy place. She’s never hated herself more.

Taking a hit, she passes the blunt back to him and relishes in the little contact that brings about. How lame is it that she’s pining for a guy who is destined to be with someone else. 

“You seem more relaxed now, if you wanted to talk about anything, I’m here.”

She does. She wants to talk about how she feels more  at ease and safe with him, here in this alleyway, than anywhere else; how she hasn’t felt peace like this since her mom died; how he has a calming effect on her that she wishes she could use like a drug; how she’s scared it might become one.

But she can’t talk to him about that at all, because she knows that though her soul finds peace with his, his soul fits better with someone else's. She doesn’t want to guilt him into any half-assed relationship, figures it would be better to become his friend and get to experience the safety and comfort he exudes at a safe arms-length away.

Instead, she talks about the ways everything has gone wrong in the past year (she avoids bringing up how he could have been her first right thing in a while). He listens as he smokes through the whole blunt, his eyes getting heavier as she continues. She’s confident he won’t remember anything tomorrow, thankful she won’t have to explain her near-meltdown. But above all-else, she’s sad. She really is doomed to go through life alone, she doesn’t get anyone to help shoulder her pain. Maybe she doesn’t deserve it.

When she finishes her sob story, he thanks her for sharing it with him. She nods but doesn’t say anything, afraid of what she might reveal if she opens her mouth again.

“DREW!” An angry George calls from inside.

“That’s my cue.” She makes to leave but is stopped by an arm on her hand. She tries to ignore her heart screaming.

“Hey, I really liked talking to you. We haven’t really done that before.”

She nods, trying to make it seem like she just doesn’t want to talk and not like she physically can’t (not while he’s touching her).

He doesn’t let go, though. Instead, he stares at her with more consciousness in his eyes than she thought he would be capable of by now. 

“You’re not alone. I don’t know why, but I feel like you need to hear that.” His voice is soft and quiet and warm, low tide at sunrise.

Nancy’s eyes widen (though her heart warms) and he let’s go. She heads inside without another word, hand rubbing her neck on the way in.

Nancy decides to invest in neck ties.

#ndcentral #plz tell me what you think #im desperate for validation #nancy drew #nace #ace x nancy #nancy x ace #soulmates #hiatus week one #also i dont know how to work this app #someone tell me how to post a preview #also please dont judge me too hard i TRIED #nace fanfiction

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

My Brother

Summary: When Inko is fifteen she is handed a picture of her and a blonde boy. She asks who it is. "Your brother. Your parents gave him up because he was Quirkless." Inko spends the next part of her life looking for her brother, only for her son to pull him into her house one day, announcing he found Uncle Toshinori. 

On AO3

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  When Inko was fifteen, her aunt pulled her to the side and handed her a photo. The photo featured her as a little baby, green hair showing above her head, dressed in a little jumper with a pacifier in her mouth. She’s being held awkwardly by a blond boy with big blue eyes, a big grin across his face.

  “Who’s this?” She asked her aunt, curious.

  “Your brother.” Her aunt told her.

 “What?” Inko asked. She looked at the photo again. “Is… what happened?” She asked her aunt, clutching it in her hand.

  “Your parents waited for his Quirk. He didn’t have one.” Her aunt told her, blunt. Her aunt’s hands were threaded together, clutching each other. “They didn’t like that.”

  “... but they work with Quirkless Discrimination agencies. They donate money to…” Inko began but her mind began clicking, thinking.

  Her father’s slight sneer when talking about Quirkless people when they were home, just the family. Her mother’s muttering about donating money being a pain.

  “... they’re pretending.” She whispered. Her aunt nodded.

  “They are. Its status, it’s trendy. Pretending you aren’t a bigot.” Her aunt shrugged. Inko didn’t want to believe. She gave the photo back anyway when her aunt asked her.

 She had to talk to them.

 -0-

  “YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A BUNCH OF LIARS!” She screamed at her father. “He was my brother-“

  “He was useless to us!” Her father snapped. “Quirkless- worth nothing in the long run. Your useless Quirk at least makes you a viable bride-“

  “GO TO HELL!” She screamed and ran up to her room.

  “Calm down, she’ll understand. He wasn’t worth it.”

  Screw that. She grabbed her cell phone and called her aunt.

  “Auntie, can you bring your truck?”

  “Of course.”

  It didn’t take long for Inko to pack up what she needed. She ignored the knocking of her mother when it happened and she waited.

  Her aunt showed up.

  “Haruka! Why are you here?” She heard from downstairs and came down, carrying a few bags.

  “The rest are upstairs. I refuse to be in a house of hypocrites.” Her parents didn’t like it, yelling she was overreacting.

  Her threat to tell everyone the truth about her brother had them letting her go.

  Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe. She thought so the moment she got in her aunt’s big grey truck, the one she used to deliver things. She looked to the front door where her parents were glaring at her aunt who stood with her arms crossed.

  Her tall aunt, blonde hair hanging down her back, like her brother’s, Inko’s father. She was tall, tough. Inko looked up to her. Ever since she was a little kid and her aunt had thrown her father into a wall when he’d dared hit Inko.

  “You treat your kid right or I’ll hurt you.” She’d threatened.

  Inko blinked, mind going to many incidents in her life where her aunt had stepped in to stop them from hurting Inko. Where her aunt had told her to not listen to her mother who picked at her appearance, where her aunt had snuck her food when her mother forced her into a diet. Where her aunt had given her money and helped her open a bank account her parents had no control over and had fought with her parents who tried to demand she give them the information.  

  Sitting in the truck, she realized that maybe… the fact they would do that, lie like that… that was the final straw.

 -0-

  Living with her aunt was different. Inko found herself smiling more. Her aunt had a sense of humour that encouraged loud laughter. She never made Inko do anything she didn’t want and even let her drop out of some clubs that her parents had made her go to.

  Inko found herself happy for the first time in a long time as she and her aunt tried to find out how to find her brother.

  It was hard though. The files weren’t kept and her parents had given up all custody and signed multiple forms. As well, it had been fourteen years back.

  Then her aunt got sick. Very sick.

  “Cancer,” the doctors told her. “Pancreatic- most likely from all the chemicals she transported over the years.”

  Pancreatic. Even in the 23 century, it was impossible to cure. Medical research in cancer and other such diseases had tapered off when Quirks became a thing. More focus was on that for a good fifty years or so. Then after that more focus was on other sorts of diseases brought around by Quirks or researching how to help people affected by Quirks.

  “I’m not dying until you’re old enough to be an adult.” Her aunt grunted when Inko asked her how she was feeling. “Eighteen kiddo.” She bared her teeth. “Gotta hold on.”

  Inko was eighteen and just finally finished high school when her aunt died. Her aunt had been living at home still, stubborn and refusing to go to hospice.

  Inko came home after a night out after graduating high school to find her dead.

  The funeral was a hard affair, her parents at least respectful enough to not start anything until after when they tried to get her to move back in with them.

  “I was already accepted into university and will be living in the dorms. As well I told them you are not allowed to ever call and change anything about my classes or living arrangements.”

  They were so mad and she got a call from the dorm manager who told her that they’d had several calls from them within a week. Each time demanding she not be allowed to room there or threatening them.

  None worked. Inko ended up cutting off contact with some help from a friend she made in a study group, Midoriya Hisashi. He was so handsome and kind. He also understood her struggles.

  “I grew up in the foster system for a good portion of my life. I got adopted at fourteen and… they weren’t good. Obsessed with the idea of being my parents, burning things I had of my biological parents. They were the sort of abusers who were kind, the ones you don’t realize are hurting you.”

  It was like Inko and her own. She didn’t know their controlling behaviours, their actions were abuse.

  Not until her aunt and her brother.

  Soon after a few heart to hearts, they started dating, something that her roommate Mitsuki loved.

  “He’s freaking handsome, you go girl!”

  When Inko graduated with a degree in culinary arts, Hisashi proposed while heading to law school.

  They got married the summer after. During that time though they discovered that Hisashi’s adopted parents died. Inko made the choice to try and let her own parents back into her life because she saw how much it hurt him.

  “He’s so nice honey-“ Her mother said when they got in, stopping at seeing one of the photos in their apartment. Her and her brother.

  Inko kept an eye on her mother after that, right up to the time she caught the woman trying to take it down.

  “Stop it!”

  “He’s not your brother he’s some      thing-    “ Inko didn’t let her say another word and shoved her out.

  She didn’t talk to them again.

  “Please don’t regret it,” Hisashi told her.

  “I won’t,” Inko told him.

  She continued to look for her brother, her husband helping. But it was hard. Harder, even more, when she became pregnant at age 28, just when Hisashi was finishing law school. They took a break, Inko going on maternity leave from the bakery she was working at.

  She gave birth to a perfect little boy she loved dearly. Hisashi loved him too, even as his work became demanding. Being part of a hero’s legal team was hard after all. Especially a destructive one like the Empire who could cause earthquakes by accident.

  Mitsuki already had a son named Katskii herself and the two hoped their sons would become friends, and it looked like they would though Inko worried. Katsuki was a headstrong little boy who seemed to love bossing others around. He was sometimes mean to Izuku and his meanness was cruel in ways she knew could cause problems.

  Mitsuki at least also saw it. But her own parenting didn’t work well.

  “My parents used to slap me around,” she told Inko blankly. “My dad once held my head underwater for a minute because I pissed him off. I… I try you know? But… where’s the line?”

  “My parents controlled every aspect of my life. They would force me on diest when I was already too thin, would go through my emails and phone. My dad hit me too, but my aunt… she stepped in each time.” Inko told her back. They both knew already, but it was nice to talk about.

  When her son, Izuku, was four though she sat in a doctor’s office and heard the worst discussion of Quirklessness in her life.

  “That test hasn’t been allowed to diagnose Quirklessness for twenty-years!” she shouted at the doctor. “Blood test, now!” The doctor was pissed and refused so she stomped out with her son, making sure each parent in the waiting room knew the doctor was using outdated medical information before rescheduling an appointment with a different doctor.

  Inko was darkly pleased that Dr. Tsubasa ended up being reprimanded and forced to take more classes. There was some issue with his grandson but his parents dealt with that.

  Yet, when the blood tests came back, Izuku was diagnosed as Quirkless.

  “He has no Quirk himself, though we believe any child he has with a Quirked individual will have a much more powerful Quirk than their other parent.” the doctor said. He was nicer at least. Izuku was so fragile, so small about this as they went home. He watched his favourite hero video, Inko watching from the door to the office.

  “...Mama, can I be a hero too?” little Izuku said. Inko felt like breaking down. She didn’t think so. Izuku was so small, so little. And she had never heard about a Quirkless hero. But then she thought of her brother.

  “I don’t know sweetie,” she finally admitted. She walked up to him and knelt down, hugging him. “But… I think you can do your best.” It wasn’t enough and she knew it but she also knew too well the Quirkless statistics.

  That was the first night she told Izuku about her brother. She showed him the picture and explained.

  “I won’t be like my parents,” she promised him. And she wouldn’t. Hisashi promised as well, and the two worked hard to make sure he was happy.

  Inko did eventually go back to work when Izuku was five, hoping and praying her son would be okay.

  She knew he was lying when he came home with ruined clothes and claimed it was all accidents. She knew he was lying when he tried to claim he was okay. But she couldn’t do anything. Not without actual proof.

  She hoped Katsuki was helping her son.

  She had a terrible feeling he wasn’t.

 -0-

  Inko and Hisashi began talking about opening a cafe when Izuku was six. The little boy was all for it, offering ideas and his own thoughts. They were happy. Inko still looked for her brother but she had accepted it might never happen. Izuku dreamed of being a hero. Hisashi was doing well at work.

  And then…

  Empire accidentally destroyed his own agency. Lost control.

  Hisashi didn’t make it.

  The large payout from the agency plus the Hero Public Safety Commission was enough for Inko to not have to work for years if they were careful.

  It didn’t fix a single thing.

  Inko would admit she lost herself for a year, completely unable to think or do anything. She wandered her apartment blankly.

  It took her son hiding a broken wrist from her to snap her out of it. She was horrified and she marched into the school to scream at them. She listed exactly what she knew about anti-Quirkless Discrimination laws, and what she could do to them.

  Izuku stopped being hurt that bad. But emotional abuse from his peers and teachers was harder to figure out.

  Inko began to work on the cafe again, as well as she began helping out at rallies on anti-Quirkist ideas. Inko also made sure Izuku knew he could go to her no matter what, but also tried not to be her parents. She tried not to butt in at any time and let him live his own life.

  As he got older she wondered if she should try more. If her hands-off approach was as bad as her own parent’s actions to her.

  But she was terrified. She didn’t want to be them.

  Inko watched as her son got older, as he got more secretive and worried. She tried to get him into programs but each time she was refused. Or they would let him go but then stop, saying he kept having people come and harass him.

  “Then why is it his fault?” she asked them. They shrugged.

  It was just easier to get rid of him than others. Izuku got very quiet after that and stopped wanting to do extra things.

  She worried and worried and she would look at the photo of her brother. She wondered if the worry she had would be for him as well. If she had grown up with an older brother who was hated, who had to fight to be respected by anyone.

  She was pretty sure she’d be more of a mess.

 She also imagined though, a tall man coming in to help with Izuku. Who would help fight against the school. Who would be with her through the death of Hizashi.

  She often stared at the photograph of her and her brother, wondering what if.

  The cafe she started had a copy of the photograph and any person making any Quirkist comments was thrown out in seconds. She provided a safe space for everyone, and she found that by doing so she got a lot of customers from people who struggled to find a place in society.

  It attracted other attention to, including a man she was fairly certain was an underground hero who came in with a black jumpsuit, getting the darkest coffee. He was a nice enough man though, and Inko found herself enjoying conversations with him. Mostly about cats or his loud friend she wanted to tell him was hitting on him.

  When a loud man came in asking for the ‘regular coffee order’ for the jumpsuit guy she stared him down.

  “Ask him out, we’re all done with his pining.” The man spluttered. “He talks about you nonstop. I don’t know his name, he pays with cash. He has mentioned you though enough I can recognize you on site. Ask him out please.”

  Shuichi, one of the cafe workers snorted. “We’re all done. Please just date him already.” The lizard-like teen continued to work while the blonde spluttered but did leave with the regular coffee and an order for himself.

  A week later both showed up, holding hands.

  “Yay! The pinning is over!” Shuichi said from where he was trying to help Izuku with math, his angry mutters about how the teachers were purposely fudging his grades making Inko plan another trip to the school to threaten them.

  “Yay!” Izuku laughed, the nine-year-old grinning at the nasty look he got. “You don’t scare me. I saw you sneak a cat in here in your scarf.”

  Inko found herself laughing harder than ever that night, and the two- Shouta and Hizashi- became friends of the family.

  As time continued to tick by, even with moments like the one where she made friends with the two she kept worrying. As Izuku got more and more nervous about school, as she saw scars he kept claiming she was mistaken about. As Mitsuki began whispering her worries over her son and how the school seemed to not worry over his anger or his attitude, as they seemed to ignore it.

  She tried to talk to him but didn’t know what to do. She felt lost.

  Then, he was fourteen and came home with a smile on his face and a spark in his eyes. He spoke happily and told her of his plan to start working out soon. She smiled and told him she was proud. It was March, nearing the end of his second year of middle school and she was happy he was happy.

  A week into his spring vacation, he opened the door to the apartment holding the hand of a tall blonde man. She frowned.

  “Izuku?” she asked him before she got a good look at the man. Her eyes widened at seeing that face.

  “Mom… I found uncle Toshinori.”

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0- 

Is Shuichi who you think it is? Yes. Originally I was like: this is just an AU where it just so happens All Might is Inko’s brother but then my brain went: okay but- so Spinner is good in this AU as he managed to find a job with Inko and is the older brother figure to Izuku.

Hope you guys liked this! Next part would be a One Shot from All Might's perspective then we actually get the story-story from Izuku's!

#bnha au #bnha #my hero academia #inko midoriya #midoirya izuku #uncle all might #all might #erasermic #uncle might

[my-headcanons-academia]

Inko chews out Endeavour

Characters: Inko Midoriya, Izuku Midoriya, Shouto Todoroki, Endeavour

Genre: Angst, a little bit of fluff and catharsis

TW: Mentions of child abuse, abusive home life, mental drain

Word Count:3 K

A/N: This may be a teensy bit long :3

•Okay listen

•Midoriya is god damn horrified when he hears what Endeavour did/does to his kids. He had obviously guessed that the second-best hero there is who is training his family to also become heroes would have some extensive regime but what Shouto explained wasn't "training" it was just abuse.

•He immediately offers Shouto and his sibling's a place with him and his mum without a moment's hesitation. They're not as rich as the Todoroki's or live in as big a house with as good food, but they're happy. •And when Shouto declines, Izuku isn't really sure what to do.

• it's not his place to tell any media or higher authorities, it'd drastically change the lives of Shouto and his siblings and would affect all of them the rest of their lives. He feels like he can't do much and a part of him feels like doing nothing means he's condoning the abuse that still happens in that home like the emotional neglect and things Shouto may not have mentioned. But he can't do anything about that right now, simply because Shouto won't let him. And while Izuku is fighting every instinct he has which is to take the Todoroki siblings out of there and into a therapist's office, it's not his place to do that.

•So instead, he does what he can for them, like offer to go places more so they're out of the house. Offer free anonymous therapy sites. Have their own improv therapy whenever needed. Promise to be there for whoever trusts him and for those who it may take longer to trust him.

•But with all his good intentions, he starts to bite off more than he can chew. Even when it's not in the midst of midnight therapy or distracting days out, it's constantly nagging at the back of his mind that he wants to do more and he isn't doing everything he can. He doesn't want to "fail" at being a good friend, since he hasn't had many experiences to base off (or any for that matter) but he is running out of emotional room.

•Contrary to the Todoroki household, Inko Midoriya actually notices when her child is going through some rough times and tries to do her best to help.

•I imagine Inko and Midoriya have a close relationship. With no other reliable parent figure in the house, they spent a lot of time together. Not only are they parent and child, but they are also friends who enjoy each others company. Inko may not always understand his fascination with All Might but she'll always ask questions and prompt him to go on about the differences in All Might's costumes and moves, even if she knows all the answers already in the same way Izuku may not understand why she enjoys sewing so much ever since she made him his hero costume but will not hesitate to help her go shopping for and carry new fabrics as she talks about the colours and texture helping boost peoples confidence. (She wants to get better at sewing so she can make a new costume for him that's better than ever before.) •And because Inko and Izuku were rather close, she knew his tells. she'd learnt well from their daily game nights to know when he lying and when he was hiding things. But that was during games. This was far more strenuous. But before she rushed in and crowded him, Inko thought that if there were really something he didn't want her to know, then she shouldn't know. So long as it doesn't hurt him. So, respecting the fact he is now a teenage boy and not a child anymore, she knew he was smart enough to make his own decisions.

•But also being herself, she still wanted to help, even if she didn't know exactly what was going on.

•At first, she thought Izuku wasn't sleeping enough because of the stress of UA so she'd plan days to the seaside or mini-holiday or they could try to make a new dessert or do a movie marathons to distract him from it. And she always took note of how very time she offered, he'd always insist some way or another that the Todoroki's join them which of course she had no quarrels with, she was delighted he loved spending so much time with his friends!

•When that didn't help she offered to get him a tutor, maybe he was anxious about his studies? She didn't trust her own education enough to tutor him as he was always impressing her with fun trivia and general knowledge but she'd taken a break in her sewing hobby to save up some money to be able to pay for a tutor.

•But when he began not eating as much, mind always preoccupied with something else than his usual hero ideology and theories, the day of the annual parent-teacher meeting and Izuku hadn't uttered a word since he got home, she sat him down on the couch, held his hands, his scarred and trembling hands, and she asked him. "Are you alright?"

•She's asked this many times before, every time he came home from school, every time she found him up in the middle of the night shakily drinking some water while staring at his phone as if expecting some death from the family. But this time? •This time her words echo in Izuku's head, getting louder and louder with each reverberation, picking up speed and other voices with every hit to his mind, the sound of text messages, quiet telephone calls, rushed breathing, stifled words, hearing footsteps from the other line, the need to help all drowning him in a cacophony of utter helplessness. •And he crumples against his mother, clawing onto her shirt like a life-jacket barely keeping him afloat above the ocean of noise only he is in and he cries. The tears stain Inko's cardigan and she wraps her arms around him, pulling him onto her lap like she used to when he was a child, she holds her son, her baby boy, as his tears dampen her clothes and his voice breaks choking on sobs.

•It was a long day.

•Izuku and Shouto had talked before about telling Inko or an adult or just anyone but there was always some reason, some excuse why it couldn't happen yet. It would be a decision all the siblings would have to agree to as it affects all their lives. Fuyumi was always hesitant, so cautious and making sure if anything were to happen nothing could be left to chance and all outcomes had to be planned. Natsuo wanted whatever would help everyone the most, and if no one was ready to do anything right now, then he'd wait. Shouto thought long ago that if what his father did to his family ever came to light, it would be brought up for the rest of his hero career and he'd never be able to truly escape his dad's hold if it always followed him like that. And until he met Midoriya, that's what he thought for years.

•Shouto was warming up to the idea of saying what happened to him specifically to someone. To see what would happen.

•And that is what Izuku could let slip. The things Shouto had told him at the sports festival, the reason for his scar, his spiteful technique and motivation to be a hero. •It was a long day. •The moment all was said and done, that he had run out of tears to cry, that he had ruined his mother's cardigan by stretching it with his grip and made it soggy with his sobs, that he could breathe without a hiccup or tremor interrupting him, he was completely drained. There was a mix of hollowness after spending so long building it all up, unsure every step of the way whether he's doing the right thing or not and the relief of finally letting there be room for him to breathe.

•But in his hollow chest was a stab of guilt, anxiety, crawling back up his throat and blocking his lungs like a thick mucus of worry. Had he done the wrong thing? It wasn't his place to say- He should have talked with Shouto more about this- Was he wrong to have done nothing so far?- Oh god he's done nothing right- this could hurt them-

• "Shhh," Inko gently held the back of his head and rubbed small circles with her thumb into the back of his neck, like she used to to do calm him down as a child, it still worked "It's-..." Inko collected her thoughts. It was certainly a lot to process, she had her suspicions but she thought she was being paranoid. She'll learn to trust her gut more. "It's not alright right now, but one day it will be. For you and for them."

•And that worry in his chest turned to blunt guilt, he shouldn't be the one crying while Shouto and his siblings have withstood literal torture all their lives, he should be stronger, he needs to be stronger to help them-

•"You are children. And none of you should have to deal with this. I know you're growing up faster than I can blink and you're being a hero more and more every day, but that doesn't mean you were prepared for this exact situation. They train you to fight villains and criminals and how to save those in immediate peril who want saving. Not thins like this." Inko continued to speak softly, pulling Izuku closer and soothing the back of his neck "Thank you for telling me and I can understand why you wouldn't want me to meddle as it may be out of my depth, but, two people helping them is better than one."

• Midoriya told Shouto what had happened and apologised for spilling too early, apologised for not doing enough, apologised for being less than open about the emotional and mental space he had to spare, promising to be more aware of it so long as Shouto continues to trust him and talk when needed. Shouto was confused as to why Midoriya was apologising so much as always and despite the apprehension in his movements, Shouto had spent enough time with Inko to trust her. And also to know that while Inko is kind, that isn't all she is.

•Shouto had seen her repay the kindness people had shown her tenfold with gifts, acts of service, compliments, reassurance and more. And something about that deep-rooted kindness tipped him off to the idea that if someone were to take advantage of her kindness or her son, that injustice too shall be repaid. And, as slow as it was and as long as it took, he knew she considers him her son too.

• Overall, the parent-teacher meeting was going well for most students. Most students were in their more casual clothes except those who had been too lazy to change out of their school uniform for the day albeit having their shirts scandalously untucked and top buttons undone (Except for Bakugo who in the presence of his mother for the first time had his tie actually tied, truly it was a sight to behold and blackmail photos to be used for months.)

• Amidst all the parents gathering together while waiting for the respective teachers to be free of their current appointments, there he was. Enji Todoroki, Endeavour in his hero costume supposedly fresh from the job. • And thus, politely fuelled by karmic fury the 5'2 force of nature marched up with a smile to the flaming rotting piece of shit excuse she can barely call a human being and greeted him.

• "Oh, hello Enji." Inko smiles. Izuku stands back with Shouto on the sidelines, watching the encounter unfold. • First of all, the informality caught him off guard. Usually, he'd be used to fans being "Overly-friendly" but something about the smile in her voice didn't sit right with the way fans usually say it. This turned a few heads.

• "And..who are you?"

• "Why I am so glad you asked, my name is Inko Midoriya, the woman whose house your son goes to every day but I suppose you wouldn't know that since as long as he's keeping up his work then there is nothing else to do with him at all," she coughed ", like parenting," and continued "Speaking of being in public I could never be as confident as you are to go to a casual event in a full-on hero costume but I suppose if it helps boost your ego then go for it! Although, speaking from the perspective of a concerned parent, aren't all of those flames a safety hazard! what if you were near a flammable thing like, oh I don't know, civilians clothes in a place you know where said civilians are tightly packed together, or there could be someone well-known to have a flammable quirk nearby or just a building's structure being, on the whole, a rather flammable thing?" Her head turned to the overgrown vermin who lead the school who had entered the room upon hearing there was a commotion "Not that I doubt UA's defence measures and predicted disastrous occurrences as no such thing has ever failed in the past. It's just the safety of children and the future generation of heroes after all." and just as quickly turned back to Endeavour

•"You know I noticed there are plenty of other pro-heroes here who are just fine in their everyday clothing because they recognise this get together is about their children's achievements and not their own. Why, if I didn't know any better I'd say you really are that insecure in your title slipping because that's what being a hero is all about, the title, that you'd distract entire families from the point of being here just to pay attention to you because it's not like being the second supposedly best hero there is credits you any attention."

• Enji barely had time to stop the flames protruding from his hero suit from dying out as peoples heads turned to pay attention. By now every student had pulled out their phone to record the situation.

•Nedzu was on his way over, laughing awkwardly ready to diffuse the situation but had miraculously been needed for a sudden important event in the teacher's lounge and was immediately escorted by Aizawa and Present Mic.

•"Oh and may I go on and say you truly are an inspirational story of how being raised as a gifted child must have been really difficult for you. Always a commodity, never a human being, not a single person in your life thinking you’re worth a damn without your quirk so you made it your entire personality until you developed your own actual personality because of course you, the Number Two hero would outgrow such a childish nature. That sounds rough," she pouted in mock sympathy.

• Endeavour snarled behind gritted teeth, barely stopping himself from acting out of hand at the public slander. "Just who do you think you are-"

•"Like I said, my name is Inko Midoriya, the pleasure is all mine I'm sure, or did you not hear me the first time while that fire was covering your ears? just like how it must have covered your eyes with choosing that outfit to be approachable. Oh do excuse me if that seemed rude, I'm a seamstress as a hobby you see so I tend to have an eye for when things are just wrong in every way. Honestly, if you didn't parade your title everywhere you go I'd mistake you for a villain on sight. You see, I'm only a seamstress and not a hero like you as you love to flaunt no matter the situation or need for it, but it must be so rewarding to save all those people every day and return to a home with your loving children and children who want to do the exact same thing and be exactly like you because you must be such good role-model and parent to have accomplished so much in your career and of course spent enough time on each of your children to help them grow to be happy, full of inspiration and their own dreams to fulfil. Oh, and of course your wife who must be so proud of the person you've become!"

• By this point the flames had been sputtering at random, a rare purple and even blue flamer erupting once and again as this woman continued talking and the parents out the corner of his eye who thought they were out of his sight nod their head and faces contort into realising the full weight of the truth they already knew but now understand.

• But Inko was nowhere near close to done, Endeavour could hear as much when she took a small break to smile and take a bigger breath to continue. • And blinded by the public's disapproval of everything he had convinced he had Done for the good of the civilians, he could feel the ground, just like his title, being pulled from under him as quicker heroes hit the back of his knees as Inko swung her handbag with the metal buckle across Endeavours face while she was being pulled safety away from the punch Enji hadn't realised fast enough he had thrown.

• The videos uploaded by students went viral in seconds

•"shocked" by the number two hero's emotional outburst with malicious intent to harm an unarmed civilian, Inko let it be known she found it unsuitable that he go back home to his children and instead of that they live with her and make a record with either police or a licensed therapist to make a note of any other emotional outbursts or strange and potentially dangerous behaviour in complete confidentiality.

#wow #a good parent? #in this economy? #bnha #mha #mha hc #bnha hc #endeavor #inko midoriya #izuku midoriya #tododeku #shouto todoroki #enji todoroki #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #Shouto x therapy #Inko x catharsis #INKO POPPING OFF