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pineappleoracle · 2 years

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can i hear more about hybrids n stuff? i love these and i’m keeping all the links to them in a folder so i can come back to them :D

I THOUGHT I ALREADY POSTED THIS I JUST DISCOVERED IT IN MY DRAFT IM SO SORRY ANON

holy crap its been AGES i hope whoever sent that ask still sees this

lets talk about my ideas for hybrids n stuff :D this time with some illustrations!

as i mentioned in those End hcs, "hybrid" refers to two wildly different things: mob hybrids and actual hybrids in the real sense of the word

but first to explain both of those, i'll have to explain how new players even... happen

because sure, there's the way we are used to, two people with compatible reproductive organs love each other very very much, but then since this is still minecraft and the universe still works like a really weird game, there's also the second option: spawning

Spawning: It can happen that players, just like mobs, simply... spawn into existence. It's quite rare in modern times, since there seems to be a "player cap" which means spawning can only happen in areas with very few to no other players. They don't spawn in as newborn babies of course, that'd severely limit survival chances. Spawned players seem to appear at ages between 10 and 20 years on average, but never too young (or too old) to be completely unable to fend for themself. They know how to speak and have at least basic reading skills from the start, along with enough general knowledge of the world to survive. It's pretty much seen as a fact that the ancestors of at least all modern player species were spawned players, created by the universe to fill the suddenly so empty world again. (if the ancient civilizations spawned or somehow evolved from mobs is hotly debated)

Spawned players are the origin of the Mob Hybrids. Their distant ancestors simply spawned into the world with their player code mixed with that of a mob and then evolution took over from there. (Suggesting somebody is a mob hybrid due to having a human and a mob parent is in fact seen as a huge insult, if not worse) What kind of mob traits mob hybrids have can differ by a lot, but more on that later.

"True Hybrids", as they're sometimes called, are on the other hand always the result of two different player species having a child together. The more different the species of the parents are, the less likely they are to have a child who is a hybrid with an equal amount of traits from both. (Basically, if the real world animal counterparts can have hybrid kids, a minecraft hybrid player is almost 100% guaranteed to happen too)

But why are true hybrids so relatively rare? What happens when the child doesn't turn out to be a mix of their parents?

- Depending on the specific species situation, it's very likely the child will simply default to the species of one parent with maybe a few minor traits of the other (these minor traits then only have a very low chance of being passed on further, and the chance decreases even more with every following generation)

- The code gets overwhelmed with all the different species information and corrupts. This gets exponentially more likely the more different species are mixed together, which is why hybrids of more than two species are EXTREMELY rare. Now corrupted species code sounds incredibly serious, but player code as a whole is a very robust thing. In the case of hybrid code corruption? The code still knows the player is supposed to be a hybrid of some sort, but what kind is lost, so it simply... hits the randomizer. The child can physically be any possible species of mob hybrid, completely unrelated to the parents in that regard. (Instincts can still be a bit scrambled, brains are very complex things)

Here now are a few graphs on this stuff:

^Animal species closely related, hybrid child very likely

^Possible results of two very different species having a child

^Example family:The child of two wildly different hybrids with no species in common is basically guaranteed to result in code corruption and a randomized species

Now then, with all of this established, lets talk about some more Hybrid things!

First of all: While yes, player code is very robust, that doesn't mean its extremely resistant to corruption happening in the first place - rather, its really good at fixing any corruption. But fixing doesn't always mean returning things to their previous state. And magic, if used right - or completely wrong - can corrupt player code in really specific ways. If species code corruption happens to a player after birth, this can lead to completely random changes to their appearance (though completely changing species is almost impossible), but whether those changes can be passed on to descendants varies on a case to case basis. This is how curses that full-on alter a player's appearance function! Another thing intentional code corruption through magic can do is force dormant species traits to manifest in hybrids that otherwise wouldn't have, as these corruptions do not follow what's natural at all (which can lead to interesting things like extra limbs/eyes/mouths).

There is a completely natural and much more mild version of “code corruption” too, which occurs so frequently its not even seen as a glitch and is instead called “unlocking”! Magic is an extremely common thing in the world, being basically energy capable of altering the code of reality, but there’s both hotspots and places with almost none. Servers, since they are created with magic, are always hotspots, while the bigger and older a player settlement in the greater minecraft world the more likely it is to be a magic desert - that’s because players, no matter the species, absorb tiny bits of magic over time. If someone from a big city (or anywhere outside the servers and not near a different type of magic hotspot, if they’re young enough) moves to living on a server, it then very commonly happens that they suddenly develop hybrid traits after some time, despite previously appearing to not be a hybrid at all (they don’t have to appear to be human, though that’s most common). Their bodies suddenly have magic to absorb, and that magic ends up being just enough to bring out dormant code, and suddenly they wake up one day with dog ears or sheep legs that they “unlocked” over night. (Compared to forceful code corruption, which is comparable to torture and treated as such, the unlocking process is almost without any discomfort and often happens unnoticed while the player is asleep)

A few more things about code corruption:

Shapeshifting is a result of species code being permanently glitched. (Is it a bug or a feature? Yes.) There are many different types of shapeshifters, some being independent species capable of passing their abilities on to their children and others the rare glitch resulting from hybrid parents. (Or mad scientists or evil corporations attempting to recreate the shapeshifting ability artificially to use for their own gain.) As a general rule, the stronger the shapeshifting ability, the more unhealthy it is, as it raises the risk of corrupting the player code further (like a rubber band, it can’t be stretched indefinitely and will eventually snap)

Void Walkers are the prime example of the rare case where hybridization somehow results in a separate, “stable” species. (Void Walkers started as hybrids of End Avians, Endermen and Shulker Hybrids.) This does not happen often and for some reason seems most common with End-related species, possibly due to how weirdly the Void affects code. Due to this origin, Void Walker hybrids are very rare, since they still somewhat count as hybrids as well. (And its the origin of their shapeshifting abilities!) This rule applies to all other species of hybrid origin too of course (for example, all other shapeshifter species).

While there’s many horror stories about laboratories full of terrible experiments attempting to find a reliable and controlled way of code corruption, The Watchers are the only ones besides powerful gods said to be capable of intentionally altering a player’s code to their whims. It’s said this is how they forcefully keep their dying kind alive, kidnapping players and making them one of their own.

And now, back to more general hybrid things!

Having the instincts of their mob counterpart(s) is usually the case for a hybrid, but unless in high stress situations, those instincts are easy enough to control or completely ignore.

Hybrid discrimination can occasionally happen in some places, but overall doesn’t, because hybrids are just so common its extremely rare for a place to just not have many. Getting kidnapped by someone wanting to do weird experiments however is more common, but is usually not because someone is a hybrid in general but because of what kind of hybrid they are. Shapeshifters living outside of servers especially have to worry about that sort of thing, since they’re such an unusual rarity.

When it comes to a specific classification, hybrids as a whole kind of count as one big species (like how “avian” is a blanket term for all the different avian species), but at the same time the different types of hybrids are usually identified by what mob(s) they’re hybrids of, since that of course leads to drastic differences in their biology. A dog hybrid and a creeper hybrid are both under the “hybrid” umbrella, but physically so different that considering them the same because of that would be silly.

Speaking of creeper hybrids, they’re a good example of Centaurism, called that because the origin of the word was simply calling horse and cow hybrids that had the four-legged lower body of the respective mobs “Centaurs”. Inspired by that, more and more words were invented for other passive mob hybrids with the same four-legged body shape, like deer hybrid centaurs being called cervitaurs, and so on. At some point “centaur” became an umbrella term for hybrids with the four-legged lower body of a mob because all those individual names were too many and too unintuitive over time. And some more time after that, scientists researching hybrids with unusually many limbs decided that “centaurism” should be the term to refer to a hybrid that has either four (or more) legs or four (or more) arms due to their mob side. (The unofficial term for the very rare hybrids with a code mutation that gives them both extra arms and extra legs, doubling the amount they should have is “octotaurs” (spider hybrids with four arms and four legs don’t count for example, as that still adds up to the amount of limbs that’s normal for them to have)). Creeper hybrids are often used as the main example for centaurism, as either variant of it is likely to happen for them, be it because creepers are facultative bipeds (quadrupeds that can also walk on only two legs and use their forelimbs like arms and hands when foraging) or because they are classified as a result of glitched code.

^An example illustration of the three most common body types for creeper hybrids (excluding the rare octotaurs): One with four limbs (two arms, two legs), one with six limbs (two arms, four legs) and another with six limbs (four arms, two legs).

And finally: In some cases it gets very hard to tell what’s a hybrid and what’s an independent species, especially in the case of Avians vs. bird hybrids. Some researchers even say there are no real bird hybrids because they all mixed with End Avians when some of those first came to the Overworld a long long time ago, while others argue that according to the rules of player spawning, there logically must be bird hybrids just like with every other mob. Similar heated debates are happening about merfolk and fish hybrids. Minecraft taxodermy taxonomy is an absolute mess.

#minecraft #mc #pine's minecraft headcanons #so i got this paper to write right now and all that science talk has infected my brain as you can see here #creeper post coming soon im putting way too much thought into their biology #shapeshifter post too probably i got a ton for those as well by now #i dont want to go too much into discrimination based on species especially not for hybrids who i see as super common because this is #a fantasy world but /evil science experiments/ on the other hand are a must because i know the people love their Angst #is there a reason why i default to creepers (and dogs) towards the end besides the creeper post? yes and its totally that i was listening to #a Joe Hills stream with a Doc cameo while working on this #dont think i should tag this as a specific fandom tho despite all the obvious references #this is general minecraft worldbuilding! i just happen to have my inspirations #these tags are brought to you at 2am #the centaur example pictures are not that's why this isn't actually posted at 2am(CEST)#(update from when im actually posting this: hey its 1am actually so at least in some way im still early-)#(once again im so sorry i opened my drafts and was very shocked to find this still in there)#(the only explanation i can offer is that i have started university)

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sunarinluvr · 3 years

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|| haikyuu boys finding you asleep on the couch after an argument ||

includes: kuroo tetsurou, miya osamu, & oikawa tooru

a/n- hello! sorry for posting so late, but this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and i was actually in the mood to finish it so i hope yall enjoy! oh and im not really sure about how i feel about it,,, might take it down later we shall see.

warnings: none ( lmk if there’s anything! )

KUROO -

last night you saw a post kuroo’s “work wife” had made on instagram with her kissing him on the cheek, and it didn’t make you feel the best, so you decided to bring it up to him the next morning. and you did, just as he was getting ready for work you talked to him about it.

you were standing in front of him filled with anger arguing about how it made you uncomfortable, “can you please listen?! i dont feel comfortable with your “work wife” kissing you?” you yelled. “Y/N it was on the cheek its not a big deal!” and to be honest you just wanted to cry.

finally, he walked past you and opened the door. “i don’t have time for this y/n, stop being so insecure! at least she wouldn’t argue over something so small!” and with that, he slammed the door and you stood there stunned. kuroo knew that he shouldn’t have said that, instant regret and guilt filled his gut.

but he already said it, he can’t do anything about it now. with a frustrated sigh, he went to work. hoping to fix everything when he gets home. you stood there speechless, as you realized you still had work so slowly you made your way to the bathroom.

after getting ready and grabbing a quick snack you were out the door with a heavy chest. once you get home, tired and feeling worse than before. you trudged to the couch and plopped down letting out a shaky sigh remembering the argument and the words he said repeating in your head.

you broke down crying, and before you knew it, the exhaustion from today took over and you were sound asleep on the couch. kuroo got home an hour later, he felt guilty and was already practicing how he’d apologize to you as he walked in.“y/n? kitten?” no answer.

he called out again, and was met with silence, he made his way over to the living room where he found you sleeping on the couch. gently walking towards you he knelt down, and saw your tear-stained face which made his heart sink. “i fucked up” he said to himself.

giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead he softly apologized and carried you to the bedroom. you ended up waking up when you felt his body weight dent the bed. “tetsu?” you said softly squinting at him. relief rushes through his body at the sound of his nickname. looking at you with guilt in his eyes

“im so sorry kitten, i shouldn’t have said that. i didn’t mean to hurt you” he said gently. at that tears started flowing again and he was quick to hug you and wipe your tears with his other hand. “it’s ok, i shouldn’t have been so insecure anyways”

he shook his head with a frown “no it’s not your fault ok? i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you so so much and i’m so lucky that you’re mine” you look up at him and gave him a small smile “okay” before cuddling closer to him. giving you a soft kiss on the lips he hugged you tighter as you both fell asleep.

OSAMU -

osamu was just having a horrible day, his head was pounding and the customers he had to deal with today were just plain rude. then he had to do most of the work since one of his employees called in sick, and for some reason, everything just annoyed him.

you on the other hand did not know about his day at all and thought it would be nice of you to make a surprise visit. walking in with a huge smile on your face stopping midway when you realize he wasn’t at the counter. “where’s samu?” you asked sweetly to the employee

“he’s in the back, i think he has a headache,” she says giving you a small smile. you can tell something was off by the way she spoke but decided to just brush it off and make your way to the back. “hi samu! surprise!” you exclaimed cheerfully as you make your way towards him

he just kind of looks at you, which you thought was weird, but you decided to hug him anyways. when he doesn’t hug you back and groan, you pull away and look at him “baby i heard you had a headache. i didn’t bring any medicine, but we could eat first and i-”

you couldn’t even finish your sentence since osamu just stood up. he was infuriated and had no clue why, usually loved listening to you but today he was just annoyed. “look y/n a don’t mean ta be rude, but a don't have the energy for this right now. please just go home.” he said coldly staring right at you.

“excuse me? i came here to surprise you and this is what i get??” you said in shock, voice a little louder this time. rolling his eyes “Oh wow am so surprised! now will ya please go home? a don’t wanna argue right now!” he yelled. with tears forming in your eyes you quickly wiped them and left. osamu knew he shouldn’t have said all that, but he was too mad to run after you in front of all the customers.

you rushed home and sluggishly made your way to your room to change into something comfier, making your way to the couch, curling up into a ball allowing your tears to fall, and somehow falling asleep, after getting tired of crying. he gets home a few hours later, guilt building up in his stomach as he mentally slaps himself for the things he said.

walking into the living room he opened the lights and you were the first thing he noticed. seeing you curled up into a ball on the couch made his heart drop to his stomach. you on the other hand woke up because of the sudden change of lighting.

gradually adjusting your sight you see him and switch your gaze onto the floor when you saw him look at you too. seeing your puffy eyes he walks towards you slowly and sits beside you giving you enough space. “am sorry, a shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on ya.”

you look at him with watery eyes and his heart sinks “yea i was just trying to be nice, sorry i didn’t warn you before coming” he opened his arms and you instinctively scooted closer to him, he sighs “no a love it when you surprise me a was jus having a bad day a love ya so much ok?” finally hugging him “okay i love you too” giving you a quick kiss he offered to make you food and of course you said yes.

OIKAWA -

you love oikawa, and you’re very supportive and understanding especially when it comes to his career. but he has an awful habit of overworking himself and as much as you love him you can't bear the fact that you couldn’t even see him anymore.

he goes home late at night -as in you’re already sound asleep late- and when you do stay up to see him, he’s too tired to even keep a conversation. then the next morning he’s gone before you could even wake up. you’ve spoken to him about this many times, but alas nothing changed.

you woke up to an empty bed as usual, but today was different though, you’ve planned a dinner for about 2 weeks now. you were very excited because it’s been so long since you both spent some quality time together and he promised to come home early.

getting up you send him a little text reminding him of your dinner tonight, with a smile you head on over to the bathroom to get ready for work. once work was over you made a quick visit to the grocery store to buy the ingredients you’ll need to make tonight’s dinner.

quietly humming to yourself while going through each aisle, and double-checking your list to make sure you’re not missing anything while checking your phone here and there. oikawa still hasn’t replied “he must be busy,” you say to yourself as you send him another text about the dinner just in case. after about 30 minutes you get home rushing since it was already late, and immediately getting started on dinner.

once you're done you sat down and waited, and waited, and waited. it's been 4 hours. dinners cold and still no sign of your boyfriend. you decided to call him pissed off that he couldn’t even show up to one dinner, “hello? y/n i can't talk right now i still need to practice”

he said as soon as he picked up. “tooru? did you get my texts? what about dinner, we’ve made plans for this 2 weeks prior! i even-” you were cut off “look just eat without me ok? we can eat again somet-” now it was your turn to cut him off.

“oikawa tooru, you leave the house while i’m asleep and come back when i'm asleep. i just wanted to spend time with you..whatever good luck at practice,” you replied as you hang up. his heart sank when he heard the crack in your voice rushing to his car on his way home to you because he knows he fucked up.

buying your favorite flowers for you on the way home cursing himself and the world for making it traffic at that exact moment. when he got home the first thing he saw was the food and you fast asleep on the couch. he felt a pang of guilt about being late.

“y/n chan?” he said while gently waking you up. you stare at him with red puffy eyes and he hugged you giving you the flowers “im sorry baby, i should’ve prioritized you and our dinner. i promise ill do better” you saw how genuine he was being so you accepted the flowers and hugged him tighter as he offered to reheat the food you made.

reblogs are highly appreciated!

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mxvladdy · 4 years

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Diavolo- True Form

Whoooooooo weeeee! ‘Pologies for the wait on these longer posts. I’ve been hit with a one two punch of house emergencies and sudden costly ass repairs, so my creative juices have been rightly squashed as of late.

Plus side I got my drawing tablet and drafting table back so I can neaten up my blog lay out now (yay!)

Anyway this one was a challenge in the best possible ways. I really like Diavolo because of how little we know about him so it gave me some wiggle room. Or at least what I know of him- im only on like chapter 23 of the stories. Idk if I did him justice as this is angsty af but I sure had a blast writing it!

Hope ya like! Next up: Beelzebub

Trigger warning: Mention of blood, and swearing.

Diavolo-

He'll never show you, so don't ask. His true form is god-like in its own right and such knowledge, such truly raw demonic power in its natural form is not for your mortal eyes.

No matter what your lineage, it would break you. And despite his roles and being the literal devil, he doesn’t want you suffering.

Sometimes when he thinks you wouldn't notice he relaxes his hold on reality, just a fraction. He wants to relieve some of the tension that is always building just below the surface. Like closing your eyes when you have a tension headache. The mental energy he has to exert to keep face is enormous. Regular glamour doesn’t work nearly as well as his own, or Barbato’s magic.

But you see hints during your downtime spent in his company. A ripple in his reflection on the window pane. Unexplainable shadows dancing across his exposed skin. Too many teeth in his mouth when he laughs. Sometimes when you stare into his eyes you see something indescribable staring back behind them. His usually warm and inviting gaze darkening. A barest flicker, a hulking bestial thing kept locked behind in his golden gaze. It's enough to freeze the blood in your veins.

On certain nights when you can slip away from the brothers you stay in his room. Lying awake, you watch his magic wane and shift as he slumbers. Sometimes you see runes, or at times letters. You are tempted to write them down and ask Solomon. But something stops you each time.

The worst images are the faces. Unknown souls trapped beneath his flesh clawing to be freed. Silent screams fading back into his body as he dreams. Your fragile fingers trace the patterns they leave as you wait for the next day wrapped in his embrace.

Only once have you seen more of his form then he would ever wish. The depths of his strength and mental fortitude were unknown to you so the slip up took you both by surprise. He masks the error well, but the sudden shift in energy in the room couldn’t be suppressed .

You are suddenly so aware of the oppressive weight of gravity on your frame. Your bones grinding together under the force of his aura. You panic, desperate by the need to breathe, but are unable to draw even the smallest bit of oxygen as it is robbed from the room. Time and reality wrapped too, distorting in ways only you thought only Barbatos could do. You knew in that moment the sudden dread of death, how mortally was but a rusty shackle tethering you down.

He collects himself, dispelling the energy and locking his glamour down tight to protect you. But that split second of fury felt like an eternity to you as you sink to the floor. You hiccup a shaky sob and shiver. Your fragile human mind bowing under the strain of what it cannot comprehend. Scolding hot tears fall from your cheeks, before splashing crimson the stone below you.

You didn't approach him again for over a month. No matter how strong you are, some things were better off unseen.

Mini Fic

He didn’t know. For once in his ancient pitiful existence, he had been unaware of his surroundings. It had been for just a moment, one tiny crack in his veneer. The foolishness of Mammon and Belphegor’s actions finally poked the right nerve. He wouldn’t hurt them, for Lucifer’s sake. That prideful demon would never forgive him if he did. But he could scare them. A quick look at his true self; a flash of the deepest bowels of hell. Enough to give them a reminder of their positions and standing in his court. He had expected their whimpers of fear, could taste the acidic tinge of it exuding from their pores. What he didn’t expect though was your blood curdling screams alongside.

Ironically, he would have to thank the second eldest later. His fast thinking is the only thing that saved you from complete damnation. His body shielded yours, taking the brunt of the stronger daemons hellish might for you. What little magic Mammon still had left used to protect you. Though, while your vision was blocked, you could still feel his oppressive presence. It racked your mortal flesh. Diavolo knew what affects his power had on humans. He spent years breaking and consuming damned souls with zeal after all.

The brothers had run from him after that, screaming for Simone. Barbatos following close behind, a look of consternation on his usually impassive face. You had been so limp in Mammon's arms. Diavolo could do nothing, shocked by his own weak will and realization that he might have ruined everything. You had been whisked away so quickly by his faithful servant and the brothers that he hadn’t had a chance to look you over himself. But the brief moment he saw will haunt him for years to come. Your eyes red from the sudden haemolacria, the blood staining your clothes and face. Your fingers digging away at your soft skin, black and purple blotches staining what he could see. Mouth opened wide on a silent scream. He knew what you must have seen. The souls of the damned trapped under his glamour breaking free to latch on to your unmarred soul trying to drag you back with them.

Against his butler's advice he stands at your door now days later trying to see you. He couldn’t sit around and just hear updates second hand. The brothers had been keeping guard most days in a valiant attempt to keep him away. But he could only be waylaid for so long before he used his rank against them.

He had arranged a full council meeting. Every one of the brothers knowing full well it was to get them out of his way. Yet, the order was absolute. This time none of the brothers could reject it. Barbatos would keep them in that room for eternity if he so wished for it. He hated using his age and power against them, but he saw no other way to get to you.

It was foolish now, standing as he was in front of your door. A part of him hoping you would turn the knob and let him in. Let him comfort you for once, instead of the asinine distractions the brothers offered. He could help too. Hells, he wanted to. He wanted to be closer to you. Power discrepancy be damned. The other part of him knowing it was for the best that you didn’t. Your guardian and tormentor all in one. He listens to your muffled sobs for a moment fighting with his feet to stay cemented to the floor instead of heading back in defeat.

"When my father was still around he took me down to the deepest depths of the kingdom. Where the worst of the traitors and sinners are imprisoned." His deep baritone rumbles through your door during a break in your crying. "It’s a place few seldom go; even now I have yet to return. Back then he told me ‘there will never be a human soul that is undeserving of punishment. Even the ones destined for the celestial realm are tethered to sin.’ At that time I believed him. The things I saw in your realm... " The prince chuckles wearily.

He remembers the ever present scowl on the old King's face. His dark eyes looking out at the sea of damned souls he controlled. Even as a young daemon, fresh into his wings and still sharpening his horns to impress others he could tell how much his father detested his position. How it had warped him, turning him bitter and cold, even to his mate and only child.

Diavolo never wanted to be like that. Not to the ones he supposedly cared for at the very least. "I think that is why he hated the other realms so much.” He continued. “Humans, for their ability to choose which realm they would eventually end up in after they pass. That even the worst sinners could find redemption enough at the last moment to get to the pearly gates. While daemons, no matter how well they served, or the duties they did for the good of their own would never be seen as equals to our celestial counterparts or yours. That this existence is all we'll ever be destined to have. Nightmares and monsters, stories to tell little human children to keep them in line.” He pauses, collecting himself. “I believed wholeheartedly that every human deserved the punishments only my kind could dowel out. But, in this past year I have spent with you, I find myself changing. You are so undeserving of such torment. Somehow you are understanding and forgiving beyond measure to us. You handle our ill tempers with such grace. For daemons such as us, it is staggering, and humbling. I regret that I have hurt you so deeply and have broken your trust. I swear it as the head of this realm I would never intentionally do so." He looks at the door handle willing it to open. " I am so sorry."

Your crying picks up again. Huge heaving sobs that rattle your chest. Great Father, he just keeps making it worse. Clearing his head Diavolo turns.

Rejection of this nature was new to him. No one had ever dared to ignore him, especially such as this. The royal in him- his father's blood- seethed that he would even stoop so low as to grovel to a short lived thing like yourself. Even deeper yet, it demanded another taste of your essences. You little soul kept safe behind your rib cage. He wanted it added to his collection, kept tucked away deep within his maws.

It was sick; it was wrong. He chokes on the idea. The intrusive thought burrowing deep. How deplorable was he? Perhaps the angels were right to keep him out of heaven.

You didn't show to class the following day, or the days after. Unsurprising to him and the seven of the inner council. He figured the other day wouldn’t change anything. But it was utter agony to him. These days trapped in his office only getting short and curt updates on your health from Lucifer. It had been a special kind of torment.

Today he sat once again at his desk staring at some godforsaken bitching of a royal cousin. He knew this whelp. Some backwater thrice removed eons ago. Yet he was demanding an audience? The gall. The ink of their eligible handwriting makes him cross eyed. Would this day ever cease? He looks to his hourglass, the sands within seemingly frozen in time.

"My Lord, perhaps you should take a moment to stretch your legs?" Barbatos moved from his corner. Gloved hand coming to rest on top of the same three lines he had been reading for the past two hours. "This work could wait another evening I’m certain ."

"Did I do the right thing my friend?" Diavolo doesn't even bother answering the question his servant posed. They both knew he wouldn't. "This program. Our human exchange students. Solomon is one thing, but-"

"Your will and path is absolute." Barbatos states. "There are no mistakes within you, merely stumblings onto different paths."

With a gentle push Barbatos moves the hulking demon out of his way to collect and organize the scrolls and letters scattered about the large desk. "You made the right choice bringing them here. Look at what they have done. They are entertainment to you are they not?"

The prince rose knocking his desk aside and descended on his butler. His true form out in all its unholy glory now. His highly condensed magic distorting the study as if he was a black hole. The axis of the room shifts. His priceless collection of books and toys disintegrating from the cold radiation he emits.

It was all for show really. There was nothing he could do to an ancient being such as Barbatos. So he lashed out, throwing a tantrum in the security of his office. The hopeless agitation he felt fueling the flames of his rage. His butler had only added holy water to his already festering wounds.

Barbatos had been by his side for time in memoriam. The crafty bastard had helped raise him. Had shaped him into the ruler he was today. If anyone could break and remold him it would be his oldest companion.

The dark haired daemon waited for the waves of agitation to dry up. Moving only when the prince was in his more presentable demonic form. Large barrel chest heaving as he reined himself in. “Are you back to your senses?” He asks coolly, already categorizing the items to replace and furniture to be mended.

"I had not meant for it to go like this." Diavolo croaks into his hands collapsing back on what remained of his desk. Building a bridge between realms, yes. That noble idea was the greater purpose of this program, but the rest of it. The classes, and dances. The parties where he threw his newest toys about to see how they would react to things other mortals worshiped? That had been for his own curiosity and amusement. Lesser beings navigating a foreign world blind to the dangers that were right under their very nose. Bring a mortal with no magic into his realm? Deep down he knew this was an inevitability. Especially with the freedoms he granted them. He just didn’t think he would get so attached.

“No one believes that you would hurt them on purpose.” His butler cuts off his downward spiral. “It would ruin the program. That is what you are so stressed about, right?” Barbatos eyes him skeptically. Diavolo, himself, and Lucifer had spent many sleepless weeks constructing and negotiating this program. If the Arch Angels heard a mortal was hurt down here it could very well end this little escapade. But the look in the prince’s eyes told a different story.

A warm glow emanated from his cheeks and he was unable to meet the old daemon’s gaze. Ah. "Or perhaps things have changed?" Barbatos smiles coyly up from beneath his bangs. "You are your mother's son after all. Neither of you were ever able to stem your bleeding hearts for long." Diavolo squawked indignantly but didn’t argue. Instead he merely turns a darker shade of red and curses under his breath.

He skipped out on court that evening. Not that he cared much. The other nobles would no doubt use the time to gossip about his whereabouts and uncouth behavior of late. Truth be told, he was avoiding the brothers more than anything else. They had made it expressly clear (some more then others) how they felt about him currently. He wouldn't doubt that Belphegor had a few more brothers on his side now.

Instead he stood at your door once more with a tea tray in hand. He had bumped into Simone on the way. The angel had come to bring you dinner and to check up on the last of your wounds. Celestial magic worked miracles on those who have been touched by the darker arts. Diavolo was grateful for his talents. And, by some miracle, Simone had made it abundantly clear he was not going to bring this to the higher ups on his end either.

Upon seeing the prince slinking up the house's stairwell the other man had simply smiled and offered him the tray. “I suddenly got a message from Luke. Could you perhaps drop this by our friend’s door?” Diavolo had accepted without preamble, large hands dwarfing the platter of little tea cakes and sandwiches. The young cherubs work no doubt. His cooking was a fine treat, and a great incentive to at least open the door.

“Hello again.” He knocks twice. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know I am the last person you wish to see but I was hoping to talk?” Silence greets him. Were you awake? He breathes deeply and focuses on picking up your vitals. You were up, your heart thumping steady somewhere in the room. That was good. “I also have dinner for you. Simone had an urgent matter to attend to so he- for better or worse- entrusted this to me.”

Diavolo searches hopelessly for something else to say. He couldn’t just leave the food and go. He needed to see you. “I don’t plan on staying long today. I understand when I am not wanted, but I cannot help myself but be worried for you. Perhaps this is just me contritioning, because I know I caused this. The amount of times I have been called a ‘ass’ by Solomon over this have been staggering.” He rambles. After another bout of silence from your end he coincides. “I see- I will leave the food by the door and let you rest.” Defeated he puts the food down and turns to leave.

The door clicks open slowly. One bloodshot eye peeking through the crack. “Oh mio piccolo mortale.” He loses his grip on your shared tongue at a loss. You looked- you must have been in the hall longer then he or the brothers had known. Such damage couldn’t be done in a few moments. Your skin was healing as nicely as Lucifer had said, but the deep purple scarring still remained on the surface. The burn pattern of it all was random. Twisting wounds that reflected an oily sheen from the light of the hallway. “I-.”

“I know-” You cut him off with a raised hand. “and I feel as though I owe you an apology too.” Your voice was so weak and shaky. A mockery of your normally strong and jovial tone. Hearing you laugh at school had brightened the dreary halls. He hadn’t realized it until you weren't there.

“You owe me nothing.” Diavolo says in earnest. He watches you contemplate your next words before throwing whatever you were going to say away.

“Would you like to come in?” Your eyes drop to the tray. “Luke always makes more than I can eat.”

“I don’t think that would be wise.” He backs out. All his plans crashing and burning around his feet. His actions had been irreparable.

“Perhaps not,” You open the door wider taking the tray and heading to your side table, leaving him no room to argue. “But then again, being a lamb among such wolves as yourself and the brothers isn’t smart either.” You meant it as a joke but he couldn’t even muster a chuckle. It was true. Gods. “Dia-” You approach him again but falter at the last second.

As much as you wanted to be close to him again the memories were still so fresh in your mind. The cold hell fire of his magic ensnaring you, searing your skin. The whispered words of sinners long since past still echoing in your head, all in languages you’ve never heard before. The worst though had to be the screaming. Lost souls begging for help. Some sounded so familiar…You shutter involuntarily.

You wanted to hate him for this. Curse him for putting you through this pain. But how much could you blame him? Or any of them? They were daemons. Whether he meant to hurt you or not, it truly had only been a matter of time before it happened. It would be hypocritical of you to fear or hate him forever over this. Six of the seven brothers have threatened your life before, and you have forgiven them. Hell, one of them actually killed you. What’s more was that Diavolo’s wrath hadn’t even been directed at you.

Wrong place at the right time; seemed to be your forte. “Please, come in.” You repeat again firmer than before mustering up either courage or sheer human stupidity to order him in. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. “We need to talk.”

He enters, following at your heel like a lost puppy. All air of princedom gone as you clicked the door shut. Diavolo fiddles with his hands, old habits from childhood coming with his nerves. He didn’t know what to expect anymore. Yelling? Some kind of beratement? A plea to go home and never look back? He would let you.

You pass by him, giving him a large berth of space to get to your seat. “Tea?”

Diavolo jerks his head to you. He had forgotten momentarily the plate of food he had used to get access to you. You smile sheepishly pushing it and a plate of sweets towards him with your unbandaged knuckles. He doesn’t move till your hand retracts back to your lap. You jerk your head to the open seat waiting for him. You weren’t going to take no for an answer.

“I- thank you.” The daemon sits making himself as small as possible in the straight back chair. He takes the porcelain and drinks mindlessly. The scalding hot tea doing little to help the tightness of his throat, but it did thaw some of the ice in his mind.

“Are-how…” He fumbles so unsure of what to do next. “I see you’ve been keeping up with your school work.” Diavolo closes his eyes, wincing internally at his words. That’s what he comes up with? Idiotic.

You smile anyway, eyeing the massive pile of books and paperwork spewn about your bed. “Yeah. I’ve taken to doing my school work with Levi in his room. Mammon and Beel are nice enough to drop it off to the teachers when they are due.” He nods. He knew this of course. But it was nice to hear it from you. But yet, you don’t meet his eyes. Far too afraid to see what hid behind them.

The thought of being dragged back into those dark depths again makes your pulse quicken. You instead stare at your nail beds, finding them more interesting. They were purple now. The nails stained black by the contact with his magic. “Will- will that go away?” He asks. Demonic curses or taints were nigh impossible to remove fully. Disgustingly, he hoped they didn’t. Then your nails would match his. The darker depths of his soul coo at the idea, happy that in a small way every daemon would know your his. Not as good as a pact, but as close as he could get to being a part of your little mortal life.

“I’m not sure.” You reply honestly bringing your hands up to place them on the table. “Simone and Solomon have done what they could. But, it is as good as it’s going to get for now. They say it could fade with time.” You look up at him, eyes gazing to the left of his face. “Luke thinks I should see a stronger angel.” Diavolo winces, the thought stung, and terrified him. “I told him no.”

That surprised him. This was your chance. The celestial realm had been skeptical from the beginning. If they knew, it would be a perfect caveat for them to step in. “Why?” Finally you look at him. The fear was still there. Hesitation evident in your eyes. Yet you forced yourself to look at him, fighting through your trepidation.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you think of me?”

“Of course.” He replies without hesitation reaching for your cold hands. You flinch but don’t move away. It felt-nice. His warmth chasing away the perpetual chill that covered your fingertips. Idly you stroke his strong hands with your thumbs.

“Then, I think we can work on this privately.” Slowly but surely you felt like you could fix this. Not for the program, but for yourself.

#obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me headcanons #gods have mercy I wanna smooch him so bad

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barnesandrogersfanfics · 3 years

Text

That Damn Sex Pollen - Part 2

Pairing : Steve x Reader / Bucky x Reader

Words: 1800+

Warnings: Mild smut / swearing... nothing too bad!

A/N: Found part 2 in my drafts so here it is! There will be a final part to follow.

It had been just over 2 weeks since the Sex Pollen incident with Bucky, the incident that led to us having mind blowing sex and confessing to feelings we'd been hiding for a while. This wouldn't have been a problem if i wasn't already engaged to his best friend Steve Rogers!! Aka Captain America!!

Now don't get me wrong i love Steve, i love Steve more than I've ever loved anyone.... but i cant deny that i don't love Bucky as well! Since the moment Steve introduced me to his long lost best friend there was something between us, we had never admitted to our feelings or acted on them in anyway we kept it to ourselves. I had decided to push my feelings for Bucky aside and give Steve my everything.....That was until that damn sex pollen!!

Bucky volunteered to go on a mission with Sam and Nat the day after we got back to the compound and had been avoiding me ever since they got back a week ago, he would even leave the room as soon as i walked in!

Steve was currently in a meeting with Tony so i headed down to the gym hoping id see Bucky and we could talk about what happened and try and clear the air, if he kept avoiding me the way he was then Steve would get suspicious!

I walked into the gym and saw Bucky lifting weights in the corner, i also saw the second he noticed me enter the room!! The weights were dropped and he started grabbing his things to leave.

"Bucky will you stop!" I said rushing over to him "you cant keep running away from me!"

"I just think its best to put some distance between us Y/N" he mumbled still avoiding eye contact.

"So you don't think we should talk about what happened in that warehouse?"

"No. No i don't! I think we need to forget all about that!"

"Fine! It never happened! But you need to get your shit together Buck! If you keep leaving every room i walk into Steve will know somethings wrong! You and me always got along before.... you were always hanging out with us and now? This is the first time I've spoken to you in 2 weeks!"

"I cant sit around and watch you and Steve together okay! It hurts too much.... I'm trying doll, i really am. I just need some time and space"

"Buck...."

"Don't" he said simply shaking his head keeping his distance from me.

"Okay..... i miss you" i told him truthfully as i backed away towards the door, Bucky gave me the smallest smile and nodded in agreement.

I was sitting on the sofa watching a movie when Steve walked in a couple hours later.

"Hey sweetheart" he smiled leaning over the arm of the sofa and pressing his lips to mine.

"Hey babe, how'd your meeting go?" I asked grabbing his hand and pulling him down on the sofa with me. He chuckled but quickly settled down and pulled me into his arms.

"It was okay, just going over some details of tomorrows mission"

"Who's going?"

"Me, Buck, Wanda and Vision"

"I get the day off! Woo hoo" i joked as my hand moved under the hem of Steve's tshirt, my fingers stroking over the smooth patch of skin under his belly button.

"You fancy going for a run with me?" He asked as i felt his fingers stroke the back of my neck.

"Not at all" i laughed "i just wanna stay here with you and watch a movie"

"You keep that up we're gonna be doing more than watching a movie" he mumbled looking down at where my hand was still stroking.

"Oh really?.... you like this huh?"

"Y/N...." Steve said before shaking his head chuckling.

"What?..... i like your happy trail"

"You do?"

"Mmhmmm...." my hand slowly stroked over the area again before slipping into the band of his sweat pants and finding his already hard cock "you do like that!" I teased as my hand wrapped around him and slowly started stroking.

"Jesus..... baby that feels amazing" he said as his head fell back against the sofa.

"See, isnt this better than going for a run?"

"Im not gonna argue with that!" He laughed before pulling me closer and kissing me hard. I quickly found myself straddling Steve, dry humping the huge bulge in his trousers as we made out like teenagers. I pulled his t-shirt off and trailed kisses up his chest to his neck... biting at that area where his neck and shoulder joined. Steve had one hand under my shirt fondling a breast whilst the other gripped my hip and rocked me against his hard cock.

"I need to be inside you" he mumbled in my ear before nipping at my earlobe.

"Please Steve...." i begged reaching into his sweat pants to free his cock.

There was a quick knock at the front door to our apartment before it opened

"Hey Steve, you ready...." Bucky was saying as he walked through the door.

"Oh shit!.... im sorry!" He said quickly turning to leave.

"Fuck!....Sorry pal i completely forgot, i got a little distracted" Steve chuckled "can we finish this later?" He said quietly to me and i nodded before climbing off his lap and heading to the bedroom.

"Its fine, we can go tomorrow" Bucky shrugged looking very uncomfortable.

"No lets go" Steve said standing up and grabbing his shirt from the floor.

"You might want to change your pants...." i heard Bucky say and turned to see him scratching his head awkwardly. Steve looked down to see the wet patch from where we had been grinding against each other moments before and blushed "oh shit, guess you're right. Give me 5".

After finishing a training session with Nat i headed back to mine and Steve's room for a shower. When i walked in i was surprised to see Steve's go bag next to the door, the shower running.... they got back early from that mission.

"Steve?" I called out as i made my way to the bathroom.

"Hey sweetheart" i heard him call over the running water.

"You're back early, did something go wrong or...."

"It went fine, easy mission"

"Thats good. You mind if i join you? I just got done training with Nat I'm a mess" i said stripping out of my sweaty work out clothes and tossing them in the dirty wash basket.

"Its all yours" he said stepping out and grabbing his towel "I've got to go to a debrief with Tony real quick but I'm all yours after. We have some catching up to do"

"Mmm i look forward to it" i smiled reaching up to give him a much needed kiss, i had missed him so much while he was gone. Before getting into the shower I placed a pair of sleep shorts and a cami on the closed lid of the toilet ready to put on once i was done.

Steve went to get dressed while i showered, i was rinsing out my shampoo when he stuck his head in letting me know he was leaving for his debrief.

"Be back soon, love you" he said before rushing off.

When i was finished i stepped out the shower reaching for my towel to find it was gone!

"Are you fucking kidding me!" I moaned under my breath, the clothes i had set out were also missing! WTF!!

Oh well it wasnt like i couldnt walk around naked, id just have to make a dash for another towel!

I threw open the bathroom door and was just walking to the bedroom when the front door opened.

"Steve you ass! You took my towel and my clothes??"

"Ermmm...i..."

My head whipped round at the sound of Bucky's voice!!

"Bucky!? Shit! God I'm so sorry i thought you were Steve!" I quickly tried to cover myself as i rushed into my room and grabbed my robe, once it was secured i went back to see why Bucky was here.

"What are you doing here?"

"Steve asked me to cone grab a file he forgot..."

"He did? When?"

"Called me just now as i was heading down to the debrief"

"Why would he tell you to come in here.... he knew i was showering and he'd taken my clothes...."

"I have no idea, can i just grab that file and i'll be on my way..."

"Sure".

I sat down on the sofa rubbing my wet hair with a towel while Bucky disappeared into Steve's office for what he needed.

"Hey doll?...." he called from the office.

I smiled at the familiar nickname i hadn't heard in weeks.

"Yeah Buck?"

"There's no files in here"

"You're sure?..."

"Yeah, where else would he keep them?"

"Thats where it would be"

"There's no file in there" i heard Steve's voice and turned to see him leaning against the front door smirking.

"Steve.... what the fuck?"

"Im sick of this tension between the two of you, i miss us all hanging out together"

"So you take my clothes and send your pal here for a non existent file in hope's he catches me naked??! Are you mad?" I shouted shaking my head at him.

"You set us up?" Bucky asked appearing in the hallway.

"Guilty" Steve shrugged "enjoy the show Buck?"

"I don't get it.... why....?"

"Because I'm sick of you both pretending theres no feelings between you"

"He's lost his damn mind" i got up to walk away but Steve grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me close.

"I know what happened in that warehouse between the two of you"

My eyes went wide as i looked over at Bucky, he looked just as shocked so i knew he hadn't told him.

"Bucky didn't say a word sweetheart i saw the CCTV..... audio included" he smirked.

"Steve.... it wasn't like we had much choice that plant...."

"Oh i know baby, i know exactly what that plant was"

"You've known all this time and said nothing?"

"It was you, you put it there didn't you?" Bucky accused Steve "why the fuck would you do that Steve!?"

"I had to do something! The two of you are so loyal you never would've hurt me and acted on your feelings.... not without a little push".

Before i knew what i was doing my hand connected with Steve's cheek.

"You had no right!"

"Tell me you don't want him" Steve pointed at his best friend.

"No"

"See...." Steve smirked looking smug.

"Right now you're the one i don't want!" I said through gritted teeth and stormed into the bedroom slamming the door behind me and flipping the lock for effect, i knew it wouldn't keep Steve out but it made me feel better.

Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit @rynabarnesrogers-reading @rainbowkisses31 @rororo06 @supernaturalwintersoldier @fairlightswiftly @hiddelstannerbarnes @bellamy-barnes @buchanansebba @rosalynshields @turtoix @dottirose

#reader insert #chris evans #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #steve rogers #chris evans x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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hqxreader · 4 years

Text

I hardly see anything on tumblr with Tanaka my poor baby! Could you write a HC on how Tanaka, Noya, and Bokuto act when other guys try to hit on you during a tournament and how they act when they’re jealous? Thank you so much and keep up the good work 🥰 - @tomboyneedshercoffee

Hi hon!! Tumblr decided to be a dick and delete your ask. Luckily I work on Google Docs and I copied your ask on there and badabing badaboom. I had it saved as a draft here too and was also editing it here too and im gonna just grrrr. Anyway, this request was a blast, I got a bit��crazy with Noya’s whoopsss. Anywho I hope I tagged the correct person and you enjoy!! 💕

Tanaka Ryunosuke

Oooh buddy

The team is warming up for their first match of the tournament and they’re starting spiking drills.

Tanaka’s about to go next, and he looks up to the stands for you, and what does he find? Some fan from the opposing team talking and hitting on you!

He was way too close, he had never heard of a personal bubble apparently.

It was now Tanaka’s turn to spike, he called your name out real quick to grab your attention,

“y/n! Look at this!” BAM! POW! WHACK! Whatever sound effect you wanna use for the ball hitting the other side of the court really, really hard and flying somewhere unknown.

The team and you pretty much stared at Tanaka, mouths gaping open in shock of what just happened.

Tanaka had a scary grin on his face, and he turned to face you in the stands, “How did you like that y/n.. And friend?”

Random dude is now about to piss his pants, “I think I’ll just let you be, bye now!”

You just shook your head as the boy ran off like a scaredy cat with his tail between his legs. You put your hands on your hips and looked down towards Tanaka,

“Great job babe! Now do that during the game!!”

So overall a jealous Tanaka makes an angry/showoff Tanaka. He’s not gonna lose to some random man that doesn’t know when his s/o is taken.

He’s pretty much like “You see this? This is mine.” not in like a rude way but in a good way like in the one will smith meme way. (haha 11pm taylor is writing this clearly)

Nishinoya Yuu

Oooh buddy take 2

After the game, you’re waiting for Karasuno in the main corridor, leaning against the wall, just minding your own business.

Then all the sudden this Random Dude your age walks right up to you, smirk on his face, playboy aura coming off of him (lets just imagine Oikawa but it’s not Oikawa cool?)

‘Oh dear’ was the first thing that you thought, and then ‘Where’s Yuu?’

“Hey there, what’s a beautiful girl like ya doing here all alone?” Oh dear.

You just smiled politely at him, “Waiting for my boyfriend, he played today and he won, so we’re going to go out tonight for a little celebratory dinner.”

He simply put one hand on the wall next to you and his other hand started messing with your hair, “Well I think ya should just ditch the boyfriend and-”

“EH??!!” Whelp. There’s the team.

You pushed the Random Dude away and walked up to Noya, standing proud next to him.

“This is my boyfriend Nishinoya. Noya, this is uh.. Random Dude.” “The names’ Atsumu.” BAHAHAHA IM SORRY

“Well let me tell you Atsumu! Y/n isn’t going anywhere with you, she’s my girlfriend!” “Ha! Okay Short Stack.”

Noya’s now pissed, stomping towards Atsumu with a scowl on his face and pushing his jacket sleeves up his arms.

Atsumu was just smirking at this, what was Noya gonna do to him? But then Atsumu saw Jesus Asahi right behind Noya, a deep frown on his face, saying ‘don’t you dare touch him.’

Once Atsumu saw Asahi, he quickly said “Ya know what? Let’s call it truths, I’m sorry for offending you and yer girlfriend. See ya!” And he sped off (osamu was watching from a bit aways and was shaking his head at his idiot brother)

Noya’s demeanor changed immediately once Atsumu ran off, grin on his face, “Did you see that babe? He ran off like a wimp!”

You just laughed and shook your head, knowing why exactly Atsumu ran off. You walked up to Noya and wrapped your arms around him and gave him a hug, “Amazing job, Yuu.”

Overall Noya is a lot like Tanaka, he gets protective and is like ‘who the hell do you think you are?!’ He’s gonna fight for you.

Bokuto Koutarou

Fukurodani now has a third manager (jeesh) you! You’re a second year, so you’re not doing the hard core work that the third years have to do. Your main job is to refill the water bottles when needed. (idk only thing i could think of)

So you’re out in the hallway doing your job like a good little manager filling up water bottles pregame, just minding your own business (again), when you get the feeling that there’s someone behind you.

You look behind you and leaning against the wall is some Random Dude™ hiding in the shadows.

“Umm.. hello?” You call out cautiously, turning completely towards the stranger (stranger danger kids!!)

Random Dude™ pushed off the wall and out of the shadows and walked up to you, waving with a smile on his face.

“Hi there! Oikawa Tooru, who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

You felt your face warm up and you kept looking around the hallway, planning an escape route. “It’s L/n Y/n” “It’s very nice to meet you L/n, how can I…”

Now as this is all going down, the third year managers sent Akaashi and Bokuto to go find you because it was taking you too long just to fill some water bottles.

As the two are walking up to you and Oikawa chatting, Akaashi can slowly see Bokuto start to have a mood swing.

“Does my crush on L/n not matter Akaashi?” “If anything I think she needs a hero Bokuto-san, she doesn’t seem very comfortable with Oikawa-san.” “Akaaaashi, you’re right!”

Plan ‘I wanna be your Hero’ is now in motion.

Bokuto walked up to Oikawa and you, looking buff as always, and he stopped next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close.

“Hey Hey Hey! Oikawa, what are you doing all the way here in Tokyo?” “Bokuto, loud as always. I’m here to watch volleyball of course! And I just happened to run into the lovely L/n here.”

Bokuto could only hope you’d go along with his plan, “Oh yeah, y/n is the best girlfriend you could ask for!”

Your eyes widened, when did that happen?? That’s okay, let’s just play along. “Yup! You can never find anyone better than Koutarou.” You reached up and pecked his cheek.

You could hear a little ‘hoot’ and see his cheeks turn red.

Oikawa now stood with his hands on his hips, giving you two a ‘what are you up to’ look.

“Okay, well I’m glad you two are happy in love! It was nice meeting you L/n, see you at the next meeting Bokuto.” Oikawa waved his hand and walked away.

Once he was far enough away, Bokuto and you pulled apart and you began asking him a million questions, “Bokuto what was that? How do you know him? Why did you do that? What does this mean? Are we actually-”

Bokuto started stressing from all the questions and he put his hand over your mouth to quiet you.

“I didn’t like seeing you with Oikawa, and I have a crush on you, will you go out with me?” all rushed out at once.

Once you comprehended what he said, you smiled under his hand and nodded.

“Really!? You will?!” You nodded again more enthusiastically. “That’s Great!” He wrapped his arms around you and picked you up, giving you a giant hug.

He put you down and turned towards Akaashi, “Akaaaaashi!!! Did you see? Did you see?? She said yes!”

At this point Akaashi is now waiting with the other managers as Plan ‘I wanna be your Hero’ ends up even better than expected.

Jealous Bokuto starts out with a moment of mood swing Bokuto. What are you doing with some other dude flirting with you? Did something happen between you two?

But then he’ll recognize your body language, you don’t feel comfortable with this guy. Bokuto shakes out of his mood swing and goes in to save you, showing how you’re his girlfriend, not anyone else's.

I hope you enjoyed!!

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liujinhee · 3 years

Text

[ Kyuhyun/Reader ]

plotting an us (working title)

Word Count: 2,622

Summary: Art student y/n, theatre student Kyuhyun one shot

Uh, so this was supposed to be a y/n fic, but I think I gave the character so much personality that they qualify better as an OC? Haha... im sorry guys :')

There was little use in trying to reason with yourself why you travel two hours every weekend to the Penguin Ice cafe. Cafe menus were unreasonably expensive, and Penguin Ice was located in the heart of the city, where the population was far too saturated for your liking.

Then you hear the familiar voice saying the words Welcome to Penguin Ice cafe, and you know you'll be coming back next weekend regardless.

You walk straight up to the counter—even if you had a crush on one of the part timers, it didn't mean your judgement was clouded enough that you'd drop by during rush hour just to see him. At 4pm, the cafe was quiet, a few patrons scattered in different corners.

When Kyuhyun's gaze falls on you, his professional smile softens into one you now recognize as warm. “Single scoop of matcha and vanilla with sprinkled topping, having here?”

“Got it in one.” You return the smile, hoping it isn't too wide. The way your feelings tend to write themselves on your facial features has never done more good than harm thus far. Digging into your pocket, you hand him the bill; never the exact amount, if only for the selfish reason of wanting him to drop the change onto your open palm.

And he does. “Here's your change,” Kyuhyun sings in that merry tune you know by heart.

“Someone's in a good mood.”

He makes a show of scanning the bar, which currently only has him manning it, before leaning forward. He's not close enough that you feel his breath, but still close enough that your heart rate picks up as he tells you in a hushed whisper that fails to contain his glee, “It's payday.”

You snort at that, even though you already had your suspicions. Kyuhyun simply gives you a cheeky grin and wags his brows, seemingly pleased to have shared that little tidbit. Your hand twitches with the instinct to reach out and ruffle his hair, something you're not quite able to do to someone you can barely call an acquaintance. So you settle for a Congratulations, to which he bows dramatically, My heartfelt thanks, before twirling away to prepare your order.

He may be majoring in theatre, you think. Or at the very least, hold an interest in it. It's not the first time the two of you have exchanged words in such a manner, nor do you believe it'd be the last. As you watch him drop a generous scoop of ice cream into a cup, you wonder if you should ask him today. Something like, What school are you from? What's your favorite ice cream flavor? Do you want to catch the next musical that comes?

But they all feel like questions that'd make your existing dynamic awkward. In a way, you already consider Kyuhyun a friend, despite not knowing anything about him other than his name, which you got from his name tag, and that he only works on weekends, which is written on their blackboard under the Shifts section.

Once again, you spend too much time overthinking, and your order is ready before you come to a decision, Kyuhyun extending the cup to you with a gentle hum. Your mumble of thanks matches the tone of his hum, and your feet bring you to your usual seat, empty as it always is. Customers aren't the biggest fans of seats by the entrance, after all; the constant opening and closing of the door can get annoying. It doesn't bother you, however. As much as you dislike crowds, you find comfort in the buzzing of human activity.

And, well, if the seat provides you a good view of the bar where Kyuhyun busies himself with cleaning up, that's just a really big bonus. Once you're satisfied with the angle of your chair, you bring out your pencil and sketchbook, flip to a fresh page, and begin sketching.

It's not always Kyuhyun. Scenery fascinates you, and you've long since lost count of the cityscape, the parks, the rivers that you've drawn from memory and imagination. But it's always when the imagination starts that Kyuhyun joins, somehow making his way into the scenery.

This time, you’ve sketched him barefoot by the beach, laughing as he splashes seawater up a silhouette with his foot. It’s an imagery that comes easily to you; Kyuhyun with his friends out having fun together. He seems like the type of person who is able to get along with everyone, and you're near certain he is.

You scribble down the date and your signature like you do on every piece of art, leaving out your name. The ripping of the page is quiet, barely audible over the music; the edges of the paper imperfect, but they always are.

As you rest the paper under the now empty cup, you can't help but imagine how Kyuhyun would react to the sketch this week. He hasn't shared his thoughts on your sketches since that first time nearly three months ago, when you'd come to Penguin Ice with your friends for a birthday celebration.

I like the way you sketch, Kyuhyun had told you as he served the tray of sundaes ordered by your table. Art student?

Yeah, you'd answered after a moment of shock, watching how the man's eye was trained on the lines of your sketch. Understanding that it was genuine praise. Your eyes had fallen to his askewed name tag, committing his name to memory. And, um, thanks. He'd tipped his head in acknowledgement, set down your orders, and returned to his post.

Looking back, it might've seemed like nothing. But to the you back then who had been dealing with self doubt, the words of a stranger had been everything you needed to hear and more. While your friends chit chatted and ate, you'd done up a quick sketch of the cafe, and left it on the table with a short thank you note addressed to Cho Kyuhyun.

The next time you'd come, it had been because another friend was curious after seeing your post about the cafe before. Even then it had been Kyuhyun who took one look at you and went, Ah, the art student! Right? The memory of that moment still makes you chuckle now. It's in his recognition that Kyuhyun started becoming more than a part timer at a cafe in the city for you.

Now, as you wait for Kyuhyun to turn away and busy himself with cleaning before sneaking out of the cafe like a protagonist in a cliche romance drama, you wonder if this plot will ever advance, or if this is but a draft that will not live to see a happy ending.

It doesn't really serve as a surprise when you come across Kyuhyun at a local arts festival you are a participant of. You've thought about it, the what if. What does surprise you, is how you come across him.

There's an event pamphlet, of course, but you're also not the type of person who focuses on details like the musical cast names. It's not like any of them would ring a bell, since they're students. Except one of them does. You don't connect the dots at first, too tired from hours of live sketch after live sketch for customers. Then you hear it, his My heartfelt thanks, and the thought is formed.

Can it be? You reach into your back pocket for the pamphlet and flip to the musical lineup for today. Sure enough, printed in bold is the name Cho Kyuhyun along with a photo of him. Gods, does he look cute in casual wear. You're staring hard at his photo when he rips your attention back to him with his vocals.

While you wouldn't go as far as to call yourself a theatre enthusiast, it's not like you haven't been to musicals. You have, and you enjoy them when you do. Paid hundreds of bucks for a good three straight hour sitting of a show that'd live in your memories for decades to come. And when Kyuhyun sings, goosebumps rising along your arm midway through the first line, you know that's the kind of level he'd belong on in the near future. That's how good he is.

You're in awe, then you're in wonder, and then maybe, just maybe, you're falling in love with the theatre student and part time ice cream man Cho Kyuhyun. The sudden realisation startles you, but you accept it just as quickly. Little as you may know, it's enough for you to have developed feelings for him, and you feel it growing stronger every passing second in your mind. Your fingers itch with the need to capture this moment forever in the form of a painting.

Then the musical comes to an end, the cast coming together, hands joined as they bow their thanks while the audience reciprocates with thundering applause. Your eyes are still on Kyuhyun as the curtain falls, but you're certain he hasn't seen you in the dark. Nor would he know or have reason to be looking out for you.

You're out the moment you're able, zigzagging through the night crowd back to your post in a rush. It's not that you're late to return, nor will your neighbor mind even if you were. You simply need to pick up a pencil right now and bring to life the visuals buzzing in your head. It's been a while since you've felt this adrenaline rush under your skin.

This is going to be a masterpiece.

You drown yourself in the canvas, skipping your weekly visit to the Penguin Ice cafe for the first time. There's only one reason for it: you don't want to override the memory of seeing Kyuhyun on the stage. A side you've never seen before, a temporary skin he wears so well one may be fooled into thinking it is his own.

There's a moment when you wonder if you'll ever finish the painting—each time you think you're quite about done, the paint setting for the last time, there's something new to add or to revise. You want to make it perfect, but in art, nothing ever is. Still, it is through willpower that you drop the brush for good, stepping back to take a good look at your painting.

It's… well, there’s no other way to say it: it's the man you saw on stage that night. It’s as close to what you wanted to express as you think it can get. The desire, the urge to convey your admiration for Kyuhyun grows overwhelming, and you rush to hold down on the power button of your phone. It’s 7:12pm on a Sunday. Which means there’s a good chance Kyuhyun will be there. They close at 10pm on weekends… can you make it?

It's worth the risk, you decide. You've got to be stupid at least once in your life (or many, but that's not how the saying goes, see). You wrap up the canvas carefully, yelling to your parents that they don't need to buy your share for dinner later, and rush out the second you feel presentable enough for public appearances.

Kyuhyun stares at you unblinking, and you do the same. It's easy to get lost in the reflection you see in them—and he blinks, light returning to his eyes.

“Hey,” he greets, but behind it you sense the question.

“Hey,” you return between pants.

“We're closing,” he says slowly, as if you can't tell from the flipped chairs and cluttering of washed utensils, “But if you're okay with on the go, I can bring out the tubs.”

You shake your head wildly before Kyuhyun can go grab said tubs. “That's not why I'm here.”

When you don't elaborate, he nods once and prompts, “Okay… So you're here to…”

“Pass you something. I can wait till you're off work. If you don't mind, I mean.” You're babbling, and you just know your face is a deep shade of red from nerves and embarrassment. To his credit, Kyuhyun doesn't judge despite his wrinkled brows, and gestures in the direction of your usual seat. So that's where you head. And you wait, your mind too crowded and thoughts so jumbled that you blank out until someone taps you on the shoulder.

“I'm done here,” he says, but now your brain short-circuits for a different reason. Kyuhyun in a plain t-shirt and shorts with a bag slinging across one shoulder shouldn't be anything worth ogling over, but it is. Even more so than the photo you'd seen on the pamphlet. You struggle to remember how to string words together and give him an answer, digging into your backpack for the thing you're here to hand him but can't quite remember what.

Then your fingers brush against the cloth holding your canvas, and you're reminded of your purpose. Right. With your heart slamming against your chest, you carefully pull out the painting you spent a week on, all while watching for any changes in Kyuhyun's expression. He has that cute frown that suggests he's confused, and you bite back a smile as you extend the canvas in an offering.

“For me?”

The laugh breaks free from you as he accepts it with a cautiousness you've never seen. “

“Is there… something here?” He wonders aloud, gesturing between the two of you. His question is innocent enough, but then you see the way he's nibbling on his lower lip, the way he's peeking at you from under his long lashes—why are they so long anyway, you briefly wonder.

“An empty space,” you quirk, still somewhat afraid to take the leap, but unwilling to leave his question hanging in the air.

Kyuhyun is instantly right by your side, the sleeves of your t-shirts brushing against each other, his body heat radiating off him this close. You feel yourself stiffen before you relax, easily growing used to this new lack of distance.

“So that's fixed,” Kyuhyun says after four beats of silence. “Anything else?”

“Hmm,” you hum to stall time as you think of other quirky answers to give, but it seems that isn't something Kyuhyun is willing to take a second time. His steps grow wider as he makes to stand in your way, forcing you to look up at him. He isn't exactly tall per say, perhaps a 1.8, but you're simply leaning toward the other end of the spectrum.

“Hey.”

He smiles, small and shy and hopeful. “It'd be really embarrassing if I'm reading this wrong, but are you interested in me the same way I'm interested in you?”

And now it's you who's worrying your lower lip, question after question clogging up your mind about all the things you can say that will ruin any possibility of the two of you—Then you look at Kyuhyun again, and realise the man’s likely feeling the same, to some extent.

Licking your dry lips, you decide to go for it. “If by that you mean—” you swallow before you're sent into a coughing fit because of your salivary glands, “—The I want to hold your hand on a date kind of interested… then yes.”

“Who said anything about dating?” he teases, and before your brain even registers the words for you to feel disappointed, he continues, “I think we should start with self introductions first, shouldn't we? After all, I still don't know your name.”

“Okay then.” Kyuhyun clears his throat, his posture tall and grand before he gives a graceful bow, hand extended. “Would you do me the honor of exploring the potentials in this budding relationship?”

It seems like the plot is moving forward, after all.

#sj #sjlong #kyuder #sjau

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sapphirewolf1122 · 4 years

Text

Coming in, Fat

Summary: All you want to do is use your quirk to help others. But sometimes, you go a little overboard.

Word Count: 1, 477

A/N: Sorry, got distracted by another project and didn’t finish my research in time to post this yesterday! But on the bright side, put together a wedding compilation video that I meant to do like three months ago! Anywho, this is just a scene that came from a convo I had with my sister about someone who had a quirk that let them manipulate their fat all around their body and, potentially, others. Which led to the idea of her swatting Fat Gum clear across a room...soooo, here ya ago. My sister may post a romantic version of this but I don’t wanna tag her and call her out like that. Thanks for reading and hope you like it!

“One bowl of miso ramen, topped with ajitama and negi, please. Oh, and ten onigiri, all tuna.”

The vendor eyed you doubtfully; you had distributed your fat pretty evenly today so you appeared to have a fairly thin figure. “Where you planning on putting all that food?”

“Food powers my quirk, so I have a heartier appetite than you might think,” you said with a smirk.

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, the vendor got to preparing your order. Soon, you were walking down the street, munching on one of your rice bowls. You had eaten the ramen by the vending cart before starting your patrol.

You hummed contentedly as you reached into your food bag for another rice bowl, though you still kept a sharp eye on the surrounding streets. There had been a rise in crime in this district recently so you’d decided to check it out. The one that was part of your usual patrol route had been very quiet lately, so you’d grown bored with it. Though your chest swelled with pride at the thought that you’d been part of the reason it had quieted down so much.

Your friends over at Naruhata had advised against patrolling out of your own town, saying that it led to a greater chance of getting caught red-handed. But you had brushed off their concerns. Disguising yourself was a specialty of yours after all.

Reaching into the bag again, your mind wandered back to when you were still in school. Many had been quite envious of your quirk, especially the girls. But no one had ever considered it worthy of hero work. Not even your parents, who had refused to let you even attend the hero course entrance exam at your local high school. To them, your quirk was all about looks.

Which reminded you. Stopping to look at yourself in a shop window, you squinted, thinking about what to do with your features today. You didn’t want to be too recognizable after all. Hm…you’d go more masculine today. Your profile had you pegged as female, so assuming a male look would really throw them off.

Concentrating, you broaden your shoulders and maneuver some fat into your face so that your features were a bit more rugged. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much you could do about your height. But you found that it often worked to your advantage anyway. Thugs didn’t normally expect those who were smaller than them to beat them up so much. In fact, it sometimes became a bit of an issue…

You’re too hot-headed and brash with your quirk. And that’s what’s gonna get you in a load of trouble one day.

Tch. Hot-headed...it’s not hot-headed if they had it coming. They're the ones who decided to pick a fight. You were completely reasonable. Satisfied with your disguise, you pulled up your hood and turned to continue your patrol.

Only to be knocked back as a body slammed into you, causing you to drop your food as you landed on your behind. Dumbfounded, you stared at the scattered contents. None of the remaining rice balls were salvageable. You heard the person mumble something but that didn’t stop your vision from filling with red. What kind of monster exhibited such a nonchalant and wasteful attitude towards food?

Whipping around to the rapidly retreating figure, you watched as they turned down a side street. As they did, you thought you saw the glint of a weapon in their hand. Your eyes widened. Could this person be a villain in more ways than one?

Rushing to your feet, you chased after them, rounding the corner to the side street to find that it was relatively deserted. The villain was a ways ahead; you wouldn’t be able to catch up by running after them. Good, you hated running.

Leaping into the air, you rapidly directed the majority of your fat into your legs, concentrating them around certain muscles for the most effective energy absorption. As you landed, you used the accumulated fat to send you springing forward again, this time higher and further than before. In fact, you may have overshot it a bit…

Suddenly, a yellow mass appeared in front of you with a yell. Unable to stop your fall at this point, you crashed into them, fully expecting both of you to go tumbling. Except...you didn’t? You’d barely registered that you were actually sinking into them before you shot back out.

As you flew back, your mind was racing. There was only one person who could’ve done that...only one hero.

You landed hard on the pavement. It took a lot of quick quirk improvisation on your part to keep you from getting too banged up; you managed to absorb most of the energy by concentrating your fat at key impact points. Still, you were left quite stunned once your tumble session was over.

Staring up at the sky, you had pretty much forgotten about the villain as your brain tried to process who had just launched you across the street.

Could it really be him? What district was this again? You weren’t on his patrolling grounds, were you? How could you not know if it were his patrolling grounds? No, there was no way. You would totally know if you had a chance of running into Fa—

“Hiya.” A big, grinning face in a yellow hood appeared above you.

“Gah, Fat Gum!” You practically jumped out of your skin as you rolled upright.

“Sure am. You all right there? Seemed like a pretty nasty tumble.”

“I-I’m fine.”

The BMI Hero: Fat Gum, the pro hero whom you admire more than any other, cocked his head. “Yeah, looks like it. Got some sort of absorption quirk? What was that jump you just made? Y’know using your quirk in public is illegal right; if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were chasin’ that guy. Actaully, you seem kinda familiar…”

Fat Gum recognized you?!

Before your mind could spiral any further on what that could mean, you heard a shout behind you. Turning, you saw a red-headed boy holding onto the guy who had knocked you over.

“Hey Fat, I got ‘im! Didn’t put up much of a fight. That other hero okay? That sure was a manly jump!” He gave you a sharp-toothed grin.

“Good job, Red. Detain him til the cops can get here. And all good here; was actually just about to ask our friend some questions. For one, they ain’t no hero.”

Crap, that didn’t sound good. “I...uh…” You started to back away but froze when Fat Gum placed his hand on your shoulder.

“In fact, looks like we got ourselves the vigilante, Futoi. She’s normally pretty hard to catch since she can manipulate her looks with her quirk but it seems she’s used up her excess fat.”

At his remark, you automatically went to touch your face to find that he was right. Your disguise had melted away due to the lack of fat left in your body. You felt a spark of your anger from before come back; this is why you’d needed those rice balls!

“Now young lady, please come with me. You’re wanted for several counts of illegal quirk use.”

Shaking off his hand, you backed away with a shake of your head. “I just use my quirk to help people! To help heroes like you catch the bad guys!”

Fat Gum’s smile seemed to soften. “While that is very noble of you, without a license, that is considered the work of a vigilante.”

“It’s not my fault my quirk wasn’t deemed worthy of one,” you scowled, aware that you sounded rather bitter.

“Perhaps not, but that doesn’t negate the fact that you’ve performed illegal actions and for that—”

Fat Gum had started to reach for you again but, panicked, you swung at him, using his own excess fat to your advantage to send him flying. He crashed into a wall, blinking at you in surprise. Both you and Red Riot stared after him in shock. You recovered your senses first though and turned to sprint away.

Holding back tears, you mentally yelled at yourself. You attacked Fat Gum! Your hero role model! You had dreamed of joining his agency if you ever managed to obtain a license. Now you had made sure that would never happen. Ugh, Koichi would never let you hear the end of this.

~~~~~~~

Back in the alley, Fat Gum still lay among the rubble where he had landed, staring after you in shock. Kirishima rushed towards him, dragging the unconscious thug with him.

“Fat, you okay?! How could she send you flying like that?”

It was several moments before Fat answered. “Someone get that girl a license and sign her up for my agency immediately. Also, find me some takoyaki, will ya?”

~~~~~~~

A/N2: Yes, I know, I wasn’t very original with the vigilante name...but I like names to have meaning and I feel like Reader wouldn’t have really put much thought into it.

I tried to incorporate a few references to the Vigilante series; that was actually what my extra research was, haha. Wasn’t til after I wrote up the first draft of this that I remembered that Fat Gum literally featured in the series about vigilantes. Obviously, this is set a lot further down the timeline than where the current volumes are at.

Finally, if anyone has any name suggestions for the fic, I’m open to recommendations. Thank you again for reading!

#bnha #boku no hero #boku no hero academia #boku no hero fanfic #my hero academia #mha #Kirishima Eijirou #bnha kirishima #bnha eijiro kirishima #fatgum #bnha fat #bnha fatgum #vigilante #bnha vigilantes #bnha taishiro #reader #fatgum x reader #no romance

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dc-ships-nstuff · 4 years

Note

Hey! Can I have a ship please? I am a brazilian girl, brown eyes and wavy hair, 160 cm and tan skin. I am a art lover (especially literature and architeture), I like to take risks and I am a little bit imprudent. I love marcial arts, especially muay thai. I hate egocentric or cynical persons. Usually I am sweet and empathic, but when I am very angry I say EVERYTHING that I think (I am working on it, I swear). I am stubborn and I don't give up easily. I like to work alone and I am introvertid.

OKay, HEY (!!!) So last night I (ris/honey) was drafting things on a whiteboard, and let me tell you, thank you so much for sending a detailed description, the headcanons i came up with last night... sdlfsfgsdfgsdjfkdshl ehehehehe

Timmy Drake and here’s why:

- he’d stress-braid your hair. Either when he’s stressed or when you are.

- he gets a little full of himself sometimes (rarely, really), and... he’s working on it.

- You’ll take risks together. From “idk we might die... let’s do it.” to “ppstt. timmy do you think this cookie dough is safe to eat?” “*takes huge handful and eats it* *mouth full*eh”

- when you’re training (i just googled muay thai and HOLY FUCK THAT’S AWESOME) he’d just walk in and play some music (if you already have music playing.. he’ll change it. He’ll put very classical music just to piss you off, and sometimes music for slow dancing, and he’ll sway and hum all by himself while you’re sweating your talent off.

- He’ll be such a goofy partner, like he’d just do the typical Chandler dance whenever you kiss him on the cheek or hug him or grab his hand, or say something sweet to him.

- he LOVES CUDDLING and if you don’t then he’s fine with that, but if he sees ever a tiny mark that you like cuddling, he’ll cling on to you forever.

-i said this like right now, but he is SO CLINGY. Like super-duper-mega clingy with three pounds of kryptonite on top. If you kiss him in public, he’ll kiss you back twice as passionately. If you call him while he’s with his friends, he’ll answer and facetime you and show you off because Tim Drake backwards spells out Boyfriend Material.

- He’d love to hug you from behind and dig his chin in your shoulder. He loves planting kisses on your neck.

- When you get in arguments, sometimes it’s really truly ugly, and he’ll just slide in his headphones and listen to the playlist he created that reminded him of you (x) and he’ll grab a piece of paper and you’re madder than eve because you’re yelling at him and he’s listening to music?

- He’ll scribble a few paragraphs on the piece of paper, and he’ll hand it to you, still with his earbuds on, and you’re still mad, but you take it, and he then hugs you really tight, and you’re too shocked to fight it, and he plants a kiss on your forehead, then he walks out the door.

- kinda rude, if you ask yourself, but the letter reads something along the lines of im sorry.... i love you... i’ll be in the kitchen... i love you... and you just completely lose your shit because you don’t know how to feel about this.

- you calm down after a bit, but there’s still no way in HELL you’re going to go to the kitchen. You’re a bit too stubborn for that.

- so when Tim knocks softly on the door, and you mumble a ‘come in’ and he opens the door and you see that his eyes are slightly red and his cheeks are red because of the rough cloth he wiped his eyes with, when you see that his nose is puffy and he’s changed into that one shirt you once said you really liked, and his breath smells like your favourite cookies, but you won’t run into his arms. You’re not like that after a fight.

- So tears are hotly falling down your cheeks and he walks towards you and hugs you real tight, and next thing you know you’re hugging him back and he says, “let’s never fight again”, and you sniffle a laugh because... because

- eheheh i see that i got into my ‘fic’ persona right there, but i have MORE:

- You’ve seen those tik toks in which girls sit on their boyfriend’s lap while they’re playing videogames? Yeah? That’s tim. You’re reading or working on something, or drawing/painting, and he’ll just crawl his way into your embrace.

- you’ll laugh a bit and then smack him with the next item you can find because holy hell no one interrupts you while you’re working.

- He’ll take you on art dates, every week, he’ll just set up all sorts of materials on the floor, sometimes canvases, sometimes not, and you’ll spend all evening and night painting on each other and your canvases.

SO THIS IS THE FIRST ONE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!

#tim drake x reader #tim drake #red robin #red robin x reader

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pug-bitch · 4 years

Text

That’s not why I’m staying (8)

The world at your feet

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive, and an inappropriate conversation in the first scene :D. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18.

Word count: about 3,500

Notes: This picks up pretty much where we left off, during Michael’s last night at the cabin, starting with Drake’s POV.

*****

Drake comes out of Sav’s old bedroom, his arms full of party games. She had always loved entertaining the young ladies of court at the cabin, however mean they were to her. Sav never lost hope that she would, one day, fit in. Only Maxwell was loyal to her. Drake shakes the idea off. Soon, he thinks, he can reconnect and, hopefully, make amends for not being there enough.

‘Table topics!!’ Maxwell exclaims.

Drake smiles. ‘Yup. Remember?’

Liv sighs as she pours herself another glass of wine. ‘As if you needed inspiration on weird topics, Beaumont!’

Maxwell laughs. ‘You may be right but it’s a fun game! Come on guys, grab some more dessert and let’s GO!’

Drake steals a kiss from Amara on his way to grab another slice of the apricot cake she and Hana made. Dinner was a success and they were now on to the second part of the mini Bash, with games, music, and booze.

Not that the whole evening wasn’t filled with booze. Drake can barely stand without swaying around like he’s on a boat. Weird how treacherous margaritas are.

‘You ok babe?’ Amara asks, her words slightly slurred.

Drake puts his hand on her hip and brings her closer. ‘Better than ever.’ He gives her another kiss, deeper this time. ‘Well, maybe I’m drunk.’

Amara giggles. ‘Yeah, so am I.’

‘Guys, gather around!’ Maxwell yells out as he stumbles down on a cushion. ‘Bertrand, get some more wine, you filthy animal!’

‘Okay, okay,’ Bertrand concedes. ‘It IS delicious wine, Olivia. Thank you for bringing it.’

Olivia bows. ‘Of course. Anything to get you drunk, Beaumont.’

Bertrand blushes. ‘Oh well. It doesn’t take much,’ he chuckles.

They all gather around the coffee table, and Hana draws the first card. She immediately giggles. ‘Oh, that one’s intense!’ She clears her throat. ‘Describe the worst sex you’ve ever had.’

‘Wow,’ Drake chuckles. ‘Not pulling any punches, huh?’

Maxwell raises his almost empty glass. ‘I’ll start! It was my first time. It was horrible. I got confused, and I forgot how close I was to the edge of the bed. I fell down and hurt my chin on my belt buckle. I had a bruise for days!’

Bertrand shudders. ‘Good lord, Maxwell, that’s where that bruise was coming from? I’d rather not know!’ He downs his entire glass of wine at once, which Olivia quickly refills, an evil smirk on her face.

She asks, ‘So, I take it you want to pass your turn, Beaumont?’

Bertrand grimaces. ‘If it’s alright, yes.’

Olivia shrugs. ‘Yeah, it’s your one pass. I’ll go next. My worst fuck was this guy I met at the derby 2 years ago. The Croatian, remember, Walker?’

Drake frowns. ‘Oh yeah. He worked for the Ambassador?’

Liv nods. ‘Well, he didn’t work for me. He cried as he orgasmed and said ‘I love you’ through his tears.’ She takes a sip of her wine. ‘Weak bastard.’

Amara makes a disgusted face. ‘Yikes. Um, my turn, I guess. The worst sex I’ve ever had is when I studied abroad in Québec, and this hot guy I met at a party turned out to have a lot of trouble getting a boner. He may have been drunk, but it was still very pathetic and sad for me.’

Drake strokes Amara’s hair and says ‘What a loser, who wouldn’t have a boner for you?’

Michael snorts, ‘Um, brother in the room, thank you very much. I’m with you on that one, Bertrand, I think I’ll pass.’ He downs his margarita. ‘Im traumatized.’

Drake’s eyes widen. ‘Did I say that out loud?’

Amara nods. ‘Yes. And thank you.’

Maxwell wipes a tear from laughter. ‘You guys, this is so much fun! Drake, your turn, then you draw!’

Drake nods seriously, as he tries to focus his eyes on a static point. ‘Um, for me, it was that Italian woman I had met, and she kept calling me Daddy, and trying to get me to spank her. Which, coupled with the ‘Daddy’ thing, well…’ he laughs. ‘It’s pretty fucked up.’

Maxwell shrugs. ‘At least you don’t lose your boners like Amara’s Canadian. Ha!’

Michael shakes his head. ‘Too soon, Maxwell. Too soon.’

Drake laughs and draws a card. ‘Alright, here we go. What’s your biggest regret?’

Olivia snorts. ‘Deep. Alright, I’ll go. My biggest regret is to have been hung up on Liam for too long.’

They all cheer. ‘Amen, sister,’ Amara yells. ‘For me, I don’t want to spoil the mood, so I’ll just say that I regret not talking to Michael for so long.’ She holds out her hand, which Michael lovingly takes. ‘Also to have spoken about the Canadian’s soft penis in front of him.’

Michael takes his hand back abruptly and bursts out laughing. ‘You little bitch,’ he giggles. ‘Alright, same for me—to have withdrawn from people who love me, such as my lovely sister here, and also I regret my skater phase in high school.’

Maxwell’s eyes widen. ‘You were a sk8er boi??’ He gasps as Michael nods cheekily. ‘Michael, my biggest regret is not to have seen any pictures of little skater you...yet!’

Hana raises her hand, all giggly from too many margaritas. ‘My biggest regret is not coming out to my parents.’

‘Yet!’ Michael adds, as he squeezes Hana’s arm gently.

Hana smiles. ‘You’re right! I will do it one day. Soon.’

Amara nods enthusiastically. ‘Yes you will! You’re a strong woman who knows who she is, and if they can’t see that, well… they better take time to reflect upon themselves.’ She frowns decidedly.

Drake chuckles. ‘Yeah, babe, that wasn’t harsh enough. What Amara means is… if they can’t accept you for who you are, fuck them, Hana!’

‘Yeah!’ Hana chimes in, as she frowns adorably. ‘Ok, your turn, Bertrand!’

Bertrand sighs heavily, his eyes glued to the Walker family portrait on the wall. ‘Oh guys,’ he says longingly, ‘I have so many regrets. The one I can’t stop thinking of is—‘ Olivia sneakily refills his wine glass as Amara shoots her daggers— ‘thank you, Olivia,’ he adds, ‘what I can’t seem to stop thinking of, every day almost… is not telling Savannah how I felt. Letting her go, without a proper declaration of love.’ He sighs and takes a big gulp of his wine.

Drake feels as though he sobered up at least 3 drinks. He and Maxwell make eye contact, and he notices that Max looks equally sad. ‘Hey man,’ Drake says comfortingly, ‘it’s not too late. It’s never too late to tell someone how you feel.’

Maxwell nods and puts a reassuring hand on his brother’s arm. ‘Yeah, he’s right, you never know what the future holds.’

Bertrand shakes his head. ‘I don’t know, guys. She has been gone two years. I don’t think I’ll ever see her again.’

A silence weighs on the room. Drake looks at Amara, who is biting her lip and looks like she’s about to say something. Drake tries to shake his head at her discreetly, but she takes a big breath and blurts out, ‘I found her.’

*****

Amara can’t believe she said this. She certainly didn’t plan on it. Can she blame the margaritas, if she’s the one who made the margaritas? She’s gonna go with yes.

All eyes are on her, especially Drake’s, who are pleading her to stop talking. But she has to fix this, right?

She looks at Bertrand, who looks utterly destroyed by the news. She opens her mouth again. ‘I know how sad Drake has been because of his sister’s disappearance, and I wanted to make sure she was ok. We had very little leads, just an email address she had given her mom, and a bank account—‘ she stops in her tracks. She can’t betray Maxwell. She takes another deep breath. ‘That she had also given Bianca, and I found her. We’re gonna try to establish contact.’

Amara feels Drake relaxing next to her. She looks into his eyes, and he gives her a relieved smile. Phew, she thinks. She didn’t blow it all.

Bertrand gasps for air. ‘Oh wow. That is very impressive of you, Amara. You must be a wonderful detective. Um, Olivia, can I have some more wine?’

Olivia hurries to the bottle and empties it in Bertrand’s glass. ‘Of course,’ she says, in shock.

Bertrand takes a gulp and says, ‘Thank you for telling me. I hope that, when you do find her in person, she agrees to talk to me.’ He pauses. ‘In fact—no.’

‘No no, go ahead,’ Drake says.

Bertrand sighs. ‘Do you think you could give me that email address you were speaking of?’

Drake pauses for a second, looks at both Amara and Maxwell, and finally says, ‘Of course. I’ll give it to you tomorrow.’

Bertrand nods, determined. ‘Thank you. I have something in my drafts that is aching to be sent.’

*****

Table Topics died down with that second card—way too loaded, but also necessary, as Drake is starting to think. ‘Hey guys, let’s finish those chocolates, ok?’ He yells out on his way to the kitchen to refill his cocktail.

As he pours himself another delicious margarita, he feels Amara’s hand squeezing his arm. She makes her way into his arms and pulls him closer. ‘Oh my God I’m sorry, babe,’ she whispers, her eyes digging deep into his. ‘I have no idea why I blurted it out. I shouldn’t have.’ She bites her lip.

Drake’s heart melts. ‘I know why you did.’ He strokes her face gently. ‘Bertrand looked miserable and we have been withholding crucial info from him.’ He smiles as he cups her face. ‘I’m glad you told him. I’m also glad you kept quiet about the—‘ his voice grows quieter— ‘the baby. We want to talk to Sav before involving him.’

Amara lets out a sigh of relief. ‘I was so scared you’d be mad at me. I promise you it just came out….the poor schmuck was laying his heart on the table, like ‘she’s my biggest regret and now she’s gone forever,’ when we all know she’s not, and—‘

Drake squeezes her hand. ‘I know. My heart broke for him, too. Believe me, I get it.’ He hands Amara the margarita pitcher. ‘Here, have another drink. This sobered us up way too quickly.’

She chuckles and obliges. ‘You got that right.’

Drake smiles softly as he looks at Amara try not to spill her margarita. He would never think that love would soften him this much. When he looks at her, his heart turns into a gooey substance that alters all his senses and decisions. It’s frightening, yes. But it brought so much joy into his life, too.

‘What?’ Amara asks, amused.

He shrugs. ‘Nothing. Just thinking. If Bertrand really does email Sav, maybe it will convince her to come back. More than I ever could.’

*****

Liam pours himself another vodka. He’s never been one for hard liquor—much more of a white wine drinker—, but desperate times call for desperate measures. After spending the afternoon drafting a treaty with Greece, he had to go have dinner with his father, who had been in worse shape than ever. Liam shudders as he thinks back on his father’s weak movements, and slower speech.

He knows that Constantine is not one to admit weakness. He’s the King, after all. But if there ever was a time…

He shakes it off. He’ll think about all this after the Engagement Tour. Constantine is surrounded with the best doctors in Europe, there is no reason to worry as of yet. Right?

Liam found the perfect excuse to escape from Madeleine tonight. He has to work late on that treaty, and needs to get up early. So, unfortunately, no sleepover, darling, you will be better off in your own room. Madeleine had pouted and acted like she was disappointed, but he could tell that even she was relieved that tonight was providing her with an out. An out from this forced charade they called an engagement. Maybe, just maybe, if he could just convince her from sheer boredom and lack of chemistry, to just...let go, maybe everything could go back to normal.

But he’ll have to take the crown soon. There’s no out for that.

He sighs and downs his vodka. He pours another. In front of him, the business card he was handed a few weeks back. Should he…?

No. It’s almost eleven. It wouldn’t be proper.

She did say that he could write whenever… He takes a deep breath and starts typing furiously on his phone.

This is Liam. May I take you up on your offer?

He puts the phone down, and grabs his glass again. As soon as he takes a sip, his phone vibrates.

Of course. Is everything ok?

He lets out a sigh of relief as he starts typing again.

Just a hard night. Hope all is well with you. Would you be free for a drink? Unless it’s too late.

His heart races. It’s been a while since he’s made a new friend. Someone who really listens to him, and whose presence calms him down.

Sure. I just need to finish a brief. How about the Orchard Way Tavern in half an hour?

Liam types a quick response and speed dials Bastien. ‘Bastien, are you available to drive me downtown?’

‘Sure thing, Your Majesty, but I can call Thierry—‘

‘No need. Please pick me up in 15.’

*****

You were workin' as a waitress in a cocktail bar

When I met you

I picked you out, I shook you up and turned you around

Turned you into someone new

Now five years later on, you've got the world at your feet

Success has been so easy for you

But don't forget, it's me who put you where you are now

And I can put you back down too

Don’t—Don’t you want me

Drake drunkenly looks on as Maxwell and Amara duet on Don’t You Want Me. They’re having the time of their lives, who needs a karaoke machine when you can just sing as loudly as you can over the actual singers?

Michael comes to sit next to him on the floor, and smiles at him. ‘This is awesome, Drake,’ he slurs. ‘I’m having such a good time. Thank you.’

Drake smiles back and clinks his drink to Michael’s. ‘You’re welcome. It’s a pleasure to have you here, Mike.’

Michael grows pensive, and Drake appreciate how much of a quiet drunk he is, compared to the others. ‘You know, I’m gonna have a hard time leaving tomorrow.’

Drake nods. ‘I don’t blame you. Wish you could stay longer and come on the tour. I would appreciate the company, and so would these two,’ he gestures at Maxwell and Amara.

Michael chuckles. ‘Yeah. Well, maybe it’ll be good for everyone to…’ he makes a calming gesture with his arms, ‘take some time. You know.’ He sighs. ‘Dammit. Is it that obvious?’

Drake shrugs, amused. ‘I didn’t say anything, man.’

Michael shakes his head. ‘You didn’t need to.’ He takes a sip of his wine. ‘I just don’t know what happened to me in the past few days. I feel… different. Calmer. More serene.’

Drake nods. ‘Yeah. Like you’ve made peace with some shit, right?’

Michael nudges Drake with his elbow. ‘Exactly. That’s exactly right. I’ve made peace with some shit. Some really deep shit.’ He chuckles. ‘Look at her.’

Drake looks at Amara. ‘Oh, I am. She’s a sight to behold.’

Michael nudges him again. ‘You love her. I love that. She’s so loveable, man, it’s unreal.’ He pauses. ‘You know, when I look at my kid, who’s the spitting image of Sergio, it doesn’t hurt. I love it, because he lives on. But for a long time, when I looked at Amara, it did hurt. A lot. Because not only is she basically the female version of her brother, but these two were so close. So fucking close.’ He shakes his head. ‘They were like twins, if twins could be six years apart, you know. This one over there, she’s an old soul. When I met her, she was a little eighteen-year-old, but she didn’t take shit from anybody, and she was already introspective, and observant, and good with people—all of it.’

Drake smiles. ‘That’s my Amara.’

Michael holds his hand to his heart. ‘Ugh, stop it, you guys are so cute.’ He takes another sip. ‘My point is, she’s such a complex and precious little soul. Always has been. And Sergio always told me how strong she is, but also, sensitive at the same time, because she loves so wholly, you know. She gives her all. Well, when we lost him—when this all happened, two years ago, and she withdrew into her own shell, it hurt so fucking much, because I knew, I just knew that it would have killed him even more, to see her like that.’ He pauses and bites his lip. ‘Nope,’ he adds, ‘I’m not gonna fucking cry on my last night.’

Drake puts his hand on Michael’s knee and gives it a reassuring squeeze. ‘It’s ok, man. I get it. She is getting better, now, and you can let go a little bit.’ He smiles. ‘She will be ok.’

Michael nods. ‘Because of you. Because of you, and Max, and Hana, and Olivia, and Bertrand… because she found people to love again.’

Drake has to make a conscious effort in order not to tear up as well. ‘Mike, I’m glad you’re here. And please tell me we can see you in New York when we go there after the bullshit Ball we have to attend.’

Michael nods furiously. ‘I’d love nothing more.’

*****

Liam fidgets with his glass of water as he waits. She insisted on getting the second round, not that he needed to drink more, but when the company is this nice, what can you say.

‘Here you go,’ she says as she puts his glass of wine in front of him. ‘Cheers!’

He clinks his glass to her martini. ‘Thank you, Ioanna, and cheers to you.’

‘So,’ she says as she sets her glass safely on the table. ‘You were saying that you’re totally into Amara Suarez, even though she has never given you any indication that she likes you romantically?’

Liam arches an eyebrow. ‘Did—did I say that?’

Ioanna chuckles. ‘Not in so many words, but that’s what I understood.’

He holds his hand to his chest, feigning being shot in the heart. ‘Ouch, that was harsh, Ms. Papadakis!’

She shrugs playfully, as she tugs a brown curl behind her ear. ‘Hey, you said you like honesty. I’m just trying to have your back.’

Liam takes a sip. ‘You have a point. Come to think of it, I may never have known what honesty is.’ He pauses. ‘You know everyone wants to kiss the prince’s ass.’

Ioanna snorts. ‘Classy, Your Majesty.’

He laughs. ‘You know what I mean. The only person who’s ever been honest with me—I think—is my best friend. And maybe Amara, well, I hope.’

Ioanna drinks quietly.

Liam smiles, ‘And, clearly, now, you.’

She nods, pleased with his response. ‘Well, you said it yourself. She was honest with you, she told you she doesn’t want anything romantic with you. Why do you choose not to believe her?’

He pauses, taken aback. ‘Um. Maybe because she barely knows me, and I’m still hoping that—‘

‘Forgive me for being straightforward,’ she interrupts, ‘but maybe it could be because you’ve always gotten what you want?’

He opens his mouth to protest. Gotten what he wants? Really? As he is forced to take the crown, as his father is dying, as his mother is dead and buried? He closes his mouth.

‘Liam,’ she adds, ‘I’m not saying you’ve never been through anything. I’m not. But you said it yourself, everyone is kissing your ass, so maybe you can’t recognize it when people are actually...not?’

Damn, he thinks, is she reading his mind? ‘Well, you got me there,’ he says, defeated.

Ioanna shrugs in victory as she takes another sip of her martini. ‘And don’t get me started on your plan to unveil your fiancée’s evil nature during the Engagement Tour,’ she adds. ‘This plan has more holes than gruyère cheese. With all due respect, everyone knows she’s not a very good person, and no one cares.’ Her eyes dig into his, deeply. ‘The only person who can break your engagement is you.’

*****

Taglist:

@drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @andy-loves-corgis , @jovialyouthmusic , @mariahschoices , @drakesensworld , @thequeenofcronuts , @notoriouscs , @drakewalkerisreal , @nikkis1983 , @simsvetements , @alesana45 @iplaydrake @emceesynonymroll @lily1999love , @silviasutton1989 @dcbbw @texaskitten30 @furiousherringoperatortoad @hollygirl1269 @sirbeepsalot @ladyangel70 @thisperfectmemory @drxkewalker @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @mrsmairstanley @axwalker @msjpuddleduck @kimmiedoo5 @furryperfectionlover @princessleac1 @katedrakeohd

Thank you for your encouragements, everyone! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

#drake walker x amara suarez #dramara #that's not why i'm staying #drake walker x mc #drake walker #trr fanfic #trr drake #drake x mc #drake walker trr #drake x amara

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picturetoburnnn · 5 years

Text

Like To Be You - Gang AU (ch. 1) | Ashton Irwin x Reader

word count - 2.7k

warning - mentions of blood and death. slight swearing. gang AU

taglist - @songforhema @asht0ns-world @lukesflaredpants @sunflowerxcal @star-gazing-calum@cxddlyash @emomack @merryblueberry02 @kinglyhood @caswinchester2000 @babe-babylon @irwinkitten @burn-crash-im-ash dm me to be added

author note - this has been sitting in my drafts for about three months now and i finally got on a writing kick on friday and stayed up till two last night finishing this. hope y’all love it

It had been a long day. Y/N took two shifts at the hospital, covering for her friend when she needed a sick day. Then, after what was supposed to be a lovely evening to herself, her brother’s girlfriend broke up with him, and he required her support.

After everything was all said and done, Y/N didn’t get home until close to one that night. She dropped her bag at the door, flinging her shoes off her feet and sluggishly making her way upstairs. Not even bothering to change out of her work clothes, Y/N dropped onto her bed, legs hanging off the side. She was out before she even hit the mattress, ready for a long night’s sleep.

Or at least, it was supposed to be. She woke at three in the morning to a growling stomach. Y/N groaned, finally acknowledging her growing hunger.

“Fine,” she sighed heavily to herself, standing stiffly and stretching. “Food it is.”

What she didn’t expect as she walked down the stairs was to see a dark shape sitting on the floor in her kitchen. Beneath her, stair creaked as she froze. The figure froze, turning around to look at her.

He was dressed in all black, eating Nutella from the jar with a teaspoon. Y/N didn’t buy Nutella, but that was definitely her spoon. His eyes widened as he met hers, standing in a flash. Y/N couldn’t help but notice the dark trail of what might be blood on the side of his face when he snatched off his black beanie.

“I can explain,” the man rushed out, holding out both hands apprehensively, still clutching the Nutella.

Y/N raised a brow.

“...no I can’t.”

“Who are you?” Y/N rushed down the remaining stairs, rushing for her purse and the pepper spray it held.

“Hey, hey, it’s cool. Don’t freak out,” he pleaded.

“There’s a stranger in my house, in the ungodly hours of the morning, eating out of a jar that isn’t mine. I think I’m justified,” Y/N said as she pulled out the spray, clutching it in her hand.

“Look, I just need a place to crash, okay? I got nowhere to go, I’m unarmed, and would rather not sleep on the street.”

“Are you kidding me? Get the hell out! I don’t know you, and you just show up on my kitchen floor in the middle of the night? I think the fuck not!”

He sighed. “Listen.” He pulled his shirt collar down far enough to let Y/N see the snake tattoo adorning his chest. “I’m one of the Cobras. Let me stay here for one night, and I can guarantee you protection and compensation. Just one night.”

The Cobras were the most notorious gang in the city. They were known for being brutal to targets, but never involving or attacking innocents. Cobras traded laundered money, drugs, guns; anything and everything Y/N tried her best to avoid. But they made the big bucks, which meant whatever compensation he was offering had to be good. And that money certainly wouldn't hurt to be in her bank account.

She looked at him one final time, his red hair shining in the moonlight.

“One night only,” she muttered. “But you've gotta let me clean up your head. I don't care who you are, I will not have bloodstains on my sofa.”

“Deal.” The sigh that left his lips was full of relief. “I'm Ashton.” He held his hand out in a shake.

Y/N eyed it carefully, not making a move. “Cool.”

He smirked. “That's the part where you tell me your name.”

“No, this is the part where you get your ass in my bathroom so I can get the first aid for your head injury.”

His expression changed from one of amusement to shock in no time. “Yes ma'am,” he mumbled under his breath.

He passed her, carefully avoiding bumping into her shoulder. Her eyes followed him as he wandered down the hall, his mind reeling as he tried to decide which door led to the half-bath.

“Second one on the left,” she gave in. “First aid kit's under the sink. I'll be right there, don't try to take care of it yourself.”

He looked back at her with a sheepish smile before ducking through the doorway. Y/N's hands threaded through her hair, tugging harshly and she questioned her own judgement. Cobras were ruthless when they needed to be, and she was letting one sleep on her couch.

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Clean off the blood, then talk to him, she told herself. Walking into the bathroom, Y/N didn't spare a glance at the man sitting on the toilet lid as she opened the kit on the countertop.

"Are you bleeding anywhere other than your head?" she asked in a monotone voice.

"My side," he answered lamely. "Although I think it's clotted by now."

"Doesn't matter, I still need to clean it." She turned, finally facing him. "Take off your shirt."

He gave her a cocky smirk, but one look from her had him looking back to the ground. Silently, he removed the fabric, revealing a violent looking gash in his side. Y/N couldn't help but stare.

"You sure you can stitch me up?" His question sounded cocky, but she could hear the faintest hint of worry.

"I'm a nurse, this is not anything new to me," she answered shortly, turning back to the kit.

"Oh," he mumbled. "Gotcha."

The pair sat in silence as Y/N worked on cleaning the area. Ashton winced as she accidentally dragged the rag against the open wound. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"'S fine," he hissed.

“What caused a gash this deep?”

Ashton bristled, not saying a word.

“If you want me to treat this properly so it doesn’t get infected, I need you to tell me what it is.” She really didn’t need that information, but morbid curiosity always got the best of her. Besides, she was letting him stay in her house; she deserved to know at least a little something about him.

He stayed quiet. Y/N sighed, ready to resign herself to silence, when--

“A fireplace poker,” he mumbled.

Where the fuck in their city was there someone pretentious enough to have a fire iron?

“Then it needs to be severely sterilized and watched carefully,” Y/N said, as if that wasn’t already part of her plan.

The boy hissed as she cleaned the gash with antiseptics, but was silent as his side was stitched together.

Tying off the final stitch, Y/N cut the suture cord. “There. All good. Let me see your head.”

Twenty minutes later, Y/N left Ashton in the bathroom to go find spare sheets and a blanket for the couch.

“I’ll drive you back to your place in the morning.” Ashton looked at her, shocked.

“You don’t have to--”

“You aren’t from around here, the Cobra territory is across the city. With your side, you wouldn’t make it there before sundown, and it’d be a very bad idea to sleep on the streets. I’ll take you to the Cobra side of town, and from there you can find your way.”

She made a compelling argument, one that Ashton couldn’t really fight against.

He didn’t reply, and it wasn’t until Y/N was halfway up the stairs that she heard him mumble “Thank you. For not calling the cops, fixing me up, and giving me somewhere to sleep and all.”

She stopped, hand on the banister, before continuing up to her bedroom. “You’re welcome.”

~~~

The next morning was odd. Y/N woke around noon, quite exhausted. She didn’t think about the guy downstairs until she saw him sitting on her couch, reading a newspaper she didn’t know she had.

“Good morning,” she said as she came down the steps, clad in an old hoodie and sleep shorts.

Ashton jumped in his seat, setting down the paper.

Y/N smirked, snickering to herself. She made her way into the kitchen, starting up her coffee maker and grabbing a granola bar from the cabinet. “Let me get my coffee and then we can head out.”

Ashton swallowed thickly. “Thank you, again.”

Y/N smiled smally at him. “You were hurt.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You’re a lot nicer in the mornings.”

“I’m no longer hungry and sleep deprived.” She shrugged and he chuckled.

Y/N retreated back up the stairs to change into something a little more appropriate. When she returned, the coffee was done, and Ashton was back to the newspaper.

“Something interesting in that paper?” She asked with a laugh.

“I’m apparently dead,” he deadpanned, showing her the article.

Cobra Member Presumed Dead

A young gang member was reportedly wounded during a break-in in the East Hill sector of town. Outside of the gang’s territory, the homeowner Alex Kei told reporter Eric Townes that a red-haired young man had been rifling through his possessions. Kei claims the gang member attacked him once he realized he was being watched. Kei grabbed the nearest thing to him, his fire iron, to defend himself. Mr. Kei reported the iron struck the attacker’s side, gouging deep. The attacker, holding his wound, fled the house. If David Kei is correct about the severity of the wound, the attacker may well be deceased by now without medical attention. The attack occurred April 11th, just two days ago.

“That’s not what happened,” Ashton huffed when Y/N looked up with wide eyes. “Kei has always had it out for us. I was only--”

“You don’t have to explain to me,” Y/N soothed. “Let’s just get you home.”

~~~

The car ride was silent for the most part, save for the occasional “turn left here,” or “keep going straight to the next light” once they were downtown.

“You can drop me off here,” he muttered after they passed the train tracks that made the Cobra border.

Y/N looked at him incredulously. “You think I’m gonna let you walk around town with fresh stitches?”

He returned her wide-eyed look.

“Point me to your safe-house, and that’s where you can get out.”

The redhead hesitated. “Make a right at the next light.”

Ashton guided her to an old warehouse. “I still don’t know your name,” he tried to laugh through a wince as he unbuckled the seatbelt she insisted he wear.

“Y/N,” she said lowly as she got out of the car, walking over to the passenger side.

She helped him climb out, his voice quiet as he said, “Y/N. That’s pretty.”

“Thanks,” she joked as she knocked on the side door. “Got it for my birthday.”

The door opened, revealing a blonde-haired man even younger than Y/N was. “For the last time,” he sighed without looking at them. “This is not a sanctuary. Go find somewhere else to peddle for money.”

“Aw damn, even me?” Ashton’s smile was huge.

The boy’s head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief. “Ash?” he breathed.

“In the flesh,” he beamed. “Didja miss me?”

But Ashton's name was the only thing Luke could say. The younger boy held his friends face in his hands, tears collecting in his eyes. "I thought we lost you."

"Harder than that to lose me," the redhead quipped before pulling him in for a tight hug.

The two held each other for several minutes, simply reveling in one another's company for the first time in several weeks. Y/N watched with a soft smile on her lips. It was sweet to see this boy who had been so tough around her appear so soft with his friend.

Ashton met Y/N's eyes, as if suddenly remembering she was there. He broke away, albeit reluctantly, and held his hand out between the stranger boy and Y/N.

"Luke, this is Y/N. She let me stay at her place recently and patched me up, made me all pretty again. Y/N, this is Luke. He's… well he's the head of this whole operation, I suppose."

Y/N smiled, holding her hand out for Luke to shake. "Hi."

Luke looked at her hand, then at her. He made no move to grab her hand, instead pulling her into a hug as well. "Thank you, for bringing him home," he whispered in her ear, voice thick with emotion.

As they broke apart, Ashton demanded Luke's attention. "I assume absolutely nothing has been done in the past two weeks, since you've all been grieving and are incapable of doing anything without me." He winked, and Y/N wasn't sure if it was directed at her or Luke.

"We've been making Kei's life a living hell, but other than that… we were a little busy trying to find you."

"Well." Ashton held out his arm to Y/N. "Let's say hello to everyone, shall we?"

They walked through the door as Luke held it open, and Y/N was surprised by what she saw. She didn't know what she expected from the headquarters of the city's biggest gang, but it certainly wasn't this.

In the center of the room was a pool table, surrounded by four men extremely focused on the game. In the corner was a small shelf of books with two small chairs-- a makeshift reading book. It looked like a home more than a base of operations, and Y/N loved it.

"I've been gone for two weeks, and there is a serious lack of crying in this room." Ashton's loud voice rang out over every quiet conversation. The room grew silent, and everyone stared at the redhead in front of Y/N.

"Ashton? Oh my God is that really you?" A bleached blond man shouldered his way to the front of the room, leather jacket heaving up and down with his rapid breathing. The tan man let out a shaky laugh before running to Ashton and enveloping him in a hug even tighter than Luke's. Before too long, everyone had crowded around the pair, all wanting to see their missing friend with their own eyes.

Y/N watched the scene unfold in front of her with a smile, until she felt someone tug at her elbow. Luke pulled her away to the side, far enough that they could have a private conversation but still see the group.

"How bad was he?"

"I put stitches in his side, so he needs to go easy. No running or stretching or anything that could tear that. I don't know how long he was hurt before he got to me, but by some miracle it didn't look infected."

Luke's following sigh sounded heavy with relief. "You may very well have saved his life. We owe you. I owe you. Anything you want, tell me."

"Oh, it was really nothing," Y/N stammered. "You don't owe me anything."

“Listen,” Luke huffed. “That boy you brought with you--” he pointed to where Ashton was, hugging all his friends like he hadn’t seen them in months “--he’s like my brother, and I haven’t seen him in over two weeks. We thought he died, but you took care of him, and didn’t let him end up on the street. You’ve done us a huge service, and we are indebted to you for him. Don’t diss us by refusing.”

Y/N swallowed thickly, nodding.

"Good. You saved his life. The Cobras will from now on be your personal backup. If you need anything, and I mean anything, you come to him, you come to me. Cool?"

Y/N nodded again.

"Y/N!" She heard Ashton's voice. He broke away from the group and jogged over to her.

"You're not leaving yet, are you?"

"I--"

"This isn't really her scene," Luke cut in. Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but he fixed her with a look that dared her to continue.

"Y-yeah," she breathed. "I'm not… this isn't my kind of place. I'm intruding now that my job is done."

"Oh." Ashton visibly deflated, obviously not enthused with the idea of her leaving. "Am I gonna see you again?"

“That depends. I mean, you know where I live.”

“Yeah, but I was thinking something more along the lines of getting your number.”

Y/N smirked.

PART 2 // MASTERLIST

#ashton 5sos #ashton irwin #ashton irwin x reader #luke 5sos #luke hemmings #michael clifford #michael 5sos #calum 5sos #calum hood #5sos x reader #5sos funny #5sos #my writing

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shkspr · 4 years

Note

hey do you have any advice on figuring out your sexuality? I don't know what your experience has been but im struggling

anon, i am deeply sorry that it took me so long to answer this. it’s a combination of the fact that you can’t edit a draft of an ask on mobile (wack) and the fact that i’ve been trying to figure out how to say what i want to say (normal, i feel). anyway, this is what i’ve got, and i hope it helps.

first off, due to the nature of the things i’m discussing here, i want to state unequivocally that i am a lesbian who is open to relationships with trans women because i am attracted to women, and trans women are women. if anybody touches this post with their transmisogyny i will cast the evil eye on them.

for what it’s worth, my experience with my own sexuality has been a long, hard process, and it’s been heavily, undeniably affected by my simultaneous journey with my gender identity, my personal identity, my childhood trauma, and my mental health. pretty much from the ages of 13 to 19 i was in a constant state of questioning everything about myself as a person. the only reason i even considered i might not be straight was bc i had friends who were not straight and i admired them. you can see how that would be confusing to a small teen who is already insecure about being a poser and a fake in every other aspect of life.

once i really examined what i was feeling, and talked it out with some of the aforementioned friends, i could admit that i wasn’t pretending, and that’s when i began identifying as bi. i wove in and out of different terminologies for a few years, burned thru several nb identities and several aspec identities, but the bottom line was that i was attracted to my own gender and other genders, and that was solid for a while.

when i was 18, i began thinking that i might be a lesbian bc, shock of shocks, i had made some very cool lesbian friends whom i admired. and i pretty much pushed that idea out of the way for a bit, telling myself it was not the truth, that i just wanted to feel special and cool, i just wanted to fit in. but then, shock of shocks again, i talked to some of my cool lesbian friends and they were very understanding and accepting and explained to me why all the reasons i thought i “couldn’t” be a lesbian were actually bullshit.

so then i was a lesbian! and i spent a long time exploring my relationship with sex and found that i wasn’t asexual; some people are, and that’s cool! but my experience wasn’t a lack of sexual attraction or desire, it was a fear of vulnerability and a traumatic history with sexual content. i still had (or have) a complex experience with sex, and a muddy picture of gender, and a deeply flawed concept of interpersonal relationships, but i am a lesbian. and i’ve been comfortable with that for a while now, and i don’t foresee myself changing how i feel about that, but unexpected things can happen.

and even though i’m comfortable with being a lesbian and calling myself a lesbian, there are always going to be things that give me pause. the thing is, the main way that i’ve changed and grown in this regard, is that those things don’t make me seriously question myself anymore. i’m secure enough in my sexuality to know that comphet, genderfeels, societal bias, etc etc, doesn’t make me less of a lesbian, even though it might feel like it sometimes.

that’s what it’s been like for me. my experiences are not universal, but i do happen to know that some of them are fairly common. but there’s also no right or wrong way to find yourself. there’s no rush, there’s no requirement. it is confusing and difficult more often than not, in a lot of different and scary ways. that being said, if there’s one piece of advice you take away from this post, it’s to always remember that your experiences are your own, and nobody else can decide for you what they mean or what to do with them.

it’s like this: you know when people say “everyone’s a little bit bisexual”? that’s not true, obviously. but i think there’s a truth hidden underneath it, and i think it’s a common experience that erroneously leads some people to that belief. no matter how you identify, there is almost always going to be something - compulsory heterosexuality, personal trauma that makes sex or romance uncomfortable, past relationships, one (1) very attractive man, whatever it is - that makes you think you’re wrong. even if you know you’re right. there’s always going to be something that could at any moment cause you to stop and think: wait, am i lying to myself?

and some people are not as vulnerable to those thoughts! some people go thru their daily lives and very rarely, if ever, consciously question their sexuality or their perception or performance of it. but other people are more susceptible to the thought spirals and the self-doubt and the confusion, and society at large feeds that and feeds upon it. for every lesbian you meet, there’s seven people giving twelve different reasons why they can’t be a “real” lesbian. for every bisexual person you meet, there’s a handful of thinkpieces about bisexuality that contradict their experiences. and so on and so forth. and that’s enough to cause a lot of indecision and anxiety.

but it’s also very freeing to take that thought and follow it to its necessary conclusion: that nobody on earth can tell you what your sexuality is. sure, if you’re a woman who feels genuine attraction to men and wants to pursue sex or relationships with them, you’re not a lesbian. that’s just because words have meanings. but you get to decide what “genuine attraction” is to you, and you get to decide whether you’re comfortable pursuing those relationships. and that’s just one example; the same logic applies broadly.

the bottom line is really that agonizing over labels and definitions just means you miss the forest for the trees. in a practical sense, in real life, who would you want to date, marry, kiss, have sex with, etc.? without thinking about what you should do, what you should want, what you’d be able to do if you had to, what you did last week, internet discourse, a dream you had when you were 12, whatever, none of it is relevant except insofar as it informs your current feelings on the matter. you’re not obligated to choose a label, and if you want one then there’s no deadline to pick one, and once you do you’re not locked into an identity for life.

which is all to say that no, not everybody is a little bit bisexual, but nobody is 100% anything, in this or any other facet of life. and that doesn’t mean that people’s sexualities aren’t valid; they are valid, but they aren’t objective or concrete in the way we would often like them to be. they’re helpful labels for explaining something that is actually unfathomably complicated. so whatever you do, whatever you decide: you don’t need to be sure, you don’t need to be right, you don’t need to be a certain kind of person, you don’t need to be anything in particular. you just need to be comfortable.

#Anonymous #long post ---#ok to rb #gd this is a doozy

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dabiapologist · 5 years

Text

[My Hero Academia Fanfiction]: Fever Dream, Chapter 2

Pairing: Dabihawks, hawksdabi, hotwings, spicywings

Characters: Dabi (My Hero Academia), Hawks (My Hero Academia), Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Usagiyama Rumi | Miruko, Toga Himiko

Rated T

Word Count: 3.4k

Chapter 2/3(?)

Tags: i've always wanted to write a sick fic, Don't Judge Me, Sick Fic, Fluff, bratty dabi is my favorite dabi, chock full of cliched tropes, and im not sorry, tfw you catch feelings for your annoying villain liaison

Summary:

"Endeavor-san? Quick question."

"What is it? I'm busy right now."

"How do you know if you're sick?"

"...excuse me?"

"Like, how do you know if you're running a fever? Do you even get fevers?"

"Why?"

"Uh, um, just curious?"

On the other end, he hears Endeavor sigh in annoyance. "Of all the things, Hawks, Why would you be curious about that?"

"Well," Hawks chews his lip anxiously as he turns to look back over his shoulder, back at the sizzling bundle of blankets on his couch.

Sizzling.

Oh. That's probably not a good sign.

// Chapter 1: In Good Conscience //

Read it on || AO3

Chapter 2: Sick Day

It is way too quiet right now.

That is Hawks’ first conscious thought when he wakes up. The fact that he even managed to squirrel away a few hours of uninterrupted rest is already worrying in and of itself, though he’s not ungrateful for it. It’s been ages since he got a good night’s rest. Or any rest, for that matter.

Hawks’ eyes crack open and he bolts upright in bed, fully awake and immediately on his guard, still wearing his hero costume and even his boots. Though at the moment, he is glad for that, as the double doors that lead out to his balcony are still propped open, allowing the freezing morning air to filter in unencumbered into his bedroom.

He walks over and gently closes them, shivering when one final draft enters through the tiny slit in the door before he brings them together.

And now, with the doors closed tight and the noise of the city traffic below effectively blocked out and silenced, the silence throughout Hawks’ apartment is even more pronounced. And eerie.

Knowing who is sleeping just over in the next room, Hawks wasn’t sure what to expect come morning, but it definitely wasn’t this unnerving quiet.

“He’s probably still out cold,” Hawks jokes to himself, somewhat anxiously. Fuck. Thinking back on it, he did headbutt Dabi kind of hard. And for all of his attitude and apathy and hair-trigger pyromania, Dabi really isn’t all that hardy of a person, physically speaking.

Hawks makes a worried noise as he feels the small but painful bump on his own forehead. Crap. Hope I didn’t give him a concussion.

He quickly sheds his hero costume, still somewhat damp and vaguely weird-smelling from the heavy rains last night and changes into a long sleeved thermal shirt and sweats. He lets out a pleased sound as he feels some warmth immediately start to seep back into his frame.

“I wonder if he’s really still out,” He wonders out loud as he leaves the room, cracking a grin,“I bet I could just lay on him for a few minutes and not be cold anymore.”

He promptly shuts up, however, when he sees that the door to his guest bedroom is cracked open slightly. Last night was a blur, for sure, but Hawks is certain that he did close the door after depositing Dabi’s lifeless husk onto the bed and tossing a bunch of blankets over him. He looks down the hall, to the bathroom. The door is open and the light is off. He’s not there, either.

Hawks turns his attention back to the guest room, listening for any sign of the villain. Nothing.

“Dabi?” He whispers into the thin crack in the door, “You up?”

His voice rises an octave. “You alive?”

No answer.

“Yo!” He calls a bit louder, gently pushing the door open with a finger. “Dabi, are y- uh…”

Nervous quickly turns to annoyed. “...What the fresh fuck…” Hawks scoffs as he takes in the state of the room. The lamp and nightstand are both overturned on the floor, and the glass of water and medicine he had so kindly set out for Dabi are also on the floor, though thankfully at least the medicine is still capped and unopened. One of the fancy carved spires of the headboard has been somehow knocked clean off and is sitting next to his foot. How the hell Dabi even managed to do that, or why, is beyond Hawks.

Also, and most notably, there is a giant burn spot in the middle of his very nice, very expensive guest mattress. Hawks’ eye starts to twitch. That mattress was almost a hundred and twenty-five thousand yen.

But amidst the surprisingly not on fire wreckage that was once his expertly decorated guest room, Dabi himself is nowhere to be found. And for that matter, neither is any of Hawks’ bedding.

Hawks blinks once. Twice.

“Did this motherfucker really just make off with all my blankets?”He asks himself, shaking his head, trying to wrap his brain around the idea, and failing. Unbelievable. “What a dick. This is what I get for trying to be nice. ”

He grumbles loudly, combing his fingers through his hair as he leaves the room. Well, Dabi was never one to show any type of consideration or respect for anyone, let alone any understanding of basic social etiquette. Hawks supposes he really shouldn’t be surprised, in that respect. It’s not like Dabi would suddenly become a considerate person just because he was sick.

But still. Did he really have to run off with all of Hawks’ extra sheets? Where the hell would he even put any of it?

Actually, he takes it back. He’s seen the state of Dabi’s so called apartment building. It’s basically condemned, and barely has power. Yeah, he figures, Dabi probably needs all those extra sheets way more than he does.

Feeling a headache coming on, Hawks decides to wash his hands of the whole situation. Dabi’s gone, so it’s no longer his concern. “Whatever, I tried. I guess it’s not my problem anymore, then.” He mutters to himself.

He stops in the bathroom and goes about his morning routine, pushing all thought of the night before from his mind, instead focusing on what he’s going to busy himself with today. His days off are few and very, very, very far between, by his design mostly, and only really happen when his sidekicks gang up on him and bully him into taking a day off before he burns out.

He knows deep down that they’re right, but fuck. That doesn’t make it any less boring.

With a wide yawn, he leaves the bathroom, scratching under his shirt as he ambles towards the kitchen. “I guess I could just get some takeout, and catch up on that sh-fwwwahh!”

Thankfully, he lives alone, so there is no one around to hear the loud, undignified squawk Hawks lets out when he trips over something on the floor and falls face-first onto the carpeted floor.

God, if his sidekicks could’ve seen that.

Hawks knows he isn’t the most graceful creature in the morning, but he’s not messy either. Wondering just what the hell it was he tripped over, he sits up on his knees and looks back.

A black boot.

A very familiar black boot.

“Uh…”

Hawks rises to his feet, still staring down at it, puzzled. “He left without one of his shoes. Okay.”

Now mulling that over, unsure of whether he’s amused by it or not, Hawks continues on his way to the kitchen.

And it’s not long before he stumbles across the other boot. The other boot, plus Dabi’s overcoat and belt, seem to make a beeline across his carpet, past the kitchen into the living room.

Feeling a distinct heaviness beginning to weigh in his belly, Hawks pads curiously along the fabric trail, following the haphazardly discarded garments out into his living room. There he finds Dabi’s pants, sitting on the steps that lead down to the entertainment room.

Hawks’ eyebrows rise at that.

“He’s not wearing pants…?” Hawks asks aloud, hands on his hips. What the actual fuck is happening right now?

He never took Dabi for that kind of guy, yet here he is, staring down at Dabi’s dingy and ill-fitting pants, lying in a heap on the floor. Curiously, he toes at them, and Dabi’s box of cigarettes slides out of one of the pockets. The burner phone he uses to contact Hawks is already sitting some feet away, face down and probably cracked.

The window shades are all down, casting a somber but peaceful grey over the room, and, Hawks notices, the TV is on but both dimmed to the darkest setting and the volume is very low.

“Huh.”

He walks over and tugs on one of the shades, allowing some sunlight into the room.

“Close it,” A new, albeit familiar voice suddenly groans from somewhere behind him, nearly startling Hawks out of his own skin. Hawks could slap himself. He really needs his morning red bull, he thinks, because this is just shameful. Even with his quirk, he didn’t feel another presence in the room. He either needs an energy drink or he needs to go back to sleep for another twelve hours.

Slowly pulling the shade back down, Hawks chances a glance over his shoulder, looking in the direction of the couch. He already has a feeling he knows what he’s going to find. And sure enough, tucked in the L of the couch, with all of Hawks’ missing bedding piled on top of him in a giant nest of fabric, is Dabi. Although at the moment, the only way Hawks knows that it’s Dabi is by his voice, albeit much lower and more hoarse than normal, and by the familiar shock of black hair poking out from the bottom of the mound. The visible portion of his face is partially burrowed into one of the couch throw pillows. Hawks can just make out one bleary blue eye, glaring at him.

“Close it,” Dabi mumbles again.

“I did.”

“Close it!”

“I di-- It is closed!” Hawks says loudly, pointedly motioning to the closed shade. But Dabi is already groaning exaggeratedly as he rolls over under his blanket pile, facing his back to Hawks and curling more into himself.

Hawks exhales loudly.

Oh, boy.

Briefly taking in the scene, if it were anyone else... it could almost be called cute. Like a little kid staying home from school, Dabi is all bundled up and watching infomercials on TV until the good stuff comes on. All he needs is a bowl of soup and a nice, nerdy set of pajamas.

There is a faint sense of nostalgia in it, too. Hawks used to do the same thing when he was small. Hell, he still does it now, as an adult, on those rare instances where the planets align perfectly and he allows himself to acknowledge that he’s feeling under the weather.

Although to be honest, he’s not exactly sure how he feels about having that in common with Dabi, of all people. They’re more alike than he is comfortable admitting; pushing through whatever is in their path, stubbornly trudging forward until they either overcome it by sheer willpower alone or they are overtaken by it. They’re a lot alike, he discovers more and more everyday, and it irks him.

Still, despite his feelings towards the other man, there is a weird sort of… something, to it, seeing a more vulnerable side of Mr. Big Bad Blue Fire, something that Hawks can’t quite put into words. But it’s intriguing; the man behind the villain, demystified somewhat. Under the scars and the smug attitude and flames, Dabi is still a human being, he supposes.

A human being that is still simpering and whining, even though the fucking shade is down.

Risking Dabi’s temper in this unpredictable state, he walks over and clambers up onto the couch too, perching himself on the back of the couch with his wings draped neatly behind him.

He stares down at Dabi for a beat, shaking his head before saying, “You’re not looking too hot there, cupcake,” as he brings his legs up to his chest, balancing perfectly on the back of the couch.

He waits for a second. And then another, and then another. A full minute passes with no movement.

Hawks frowns.

Oof. No reaction to the ‘cupcake’. At all. Dabi hates nicknames, especially the purposely cutesy and condescending ones Hawks likes to give him when he feels like picking a fight. And right now, he is most definitely picking a fight, if only to get Dabi out of whatever sickness haze he’s in and to start acting more like himself.

Then at least Hawks would feel a little better, knowing it’s not really anything serious.

But Dabi doesn’t even move, let alone do what Hawks was fully hoping he’d do, which was jump up from the couch in a huffy ball of blue fire and expletives, challenging him to call him that again.

That’s not good.

They remain like that for a long while; Dabi lying down, possibly asleep, and Hawks staring down at him while twiddling his thumbs, wondering where the hell he goes from here.

He has a sick villain in his apartment. A sick, very dangerous, very wanted villain. A high-ranking member of the organization in which it is his mission to infiltrate and bring down from the inside.

Hawks cradles his head in hand, unpacking all of that in his mind. Yeah, there is a slight chance that, maybe, he did not think this through quite as much as he should have.

“I’m gonna go make some coffee,” He says out loud, more to himself than to Dabi, who he is sure probably didn’t even hear him. He doesn't even really like coffee, but he just needs something pointless and mechanical to focus on for a few minutes, so he can sort this ordeal out in his head.

This is fine, he thinks as he rips open the package of coffee grounds, this is okay. So far, it doesn’t seem like he’s gonna make a scene or anything. Hopefully, he’ll just lie on the couch all day in a borderline coma, and if he’s conscious by tonight, I can maybe sneak him out. Of course, I'll need to blindfold him or something, so he doesn’t know where I live… fuck. I didn’t even think of that.

Hawks freezes, mid-scoop. How the hell had that not occurred to him before? That bringing Dabi up to his apartment would mean letting the villain know where he lived, giving him and the League an extra advantage over him?

Last night he had been so focused on not leaving Dabi half-dead on the street, that he didn’t think of the consequences his little act of kindness could bring for him in the immediate future. And just now, he had been so focused on finding Dabi that he didn't realize that the other man trashing his guest room and passing out on his couch instead was actually the best possible case scenario he could have hoped for in this situation. The last thing he needs, he realizes in a cold sweat, is Dabi, whose face is extremely recognizable, wandering around his apartment building, deliriously sick and liable to cause all sorts of mayhem.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” He chants to himself. But what if he was up at night when I was asleep, checking out the surroundings? He continues setting the coffee maker to boil.

Hawks looks back over his shoulder, out over the island and into the living room, where the top of Dabi’s blanket mound is just barely visible.

Then again, he’s so out of it right now, and was last night, too. I mean, I can’t imagine another reason he’d trash the guest room, other than he woke up and was disoriented and freaked out.

“Nah, he couldn't have. Not in his condition.”

He barely made it to the living room, let alone outside or to the windows. Surveillance is the last thing on his mind, right now. Hawks stares at the coffee as it drip, drip, drips down into the coffee pot, condensation beginning to form on the outside from the heat. It’s weirdly calming.

Hawks sighs to himself.

Well, I guess it’s too late to worry about that now. What’s done is done. For now, I just have to figure out how to work this situation to my advantage.

Hawks ceases his mental calculating when he feels a certain vibration ripple through his smaller feathers, along with the near silent rustle of fabric along the kitchen's tiles behind him. At least this time, Dabi doesn’t surprise him. Although, he has to admit, how Dabi manages to move so quietly even while sick to point of delirium is quite impressive.

“Is it ready yet?” He hears the other man ask over his shoulder.

“You were awake?”

“Mmn. Barely.”

Hawks turns, and almost can’t believe his eyes.

Wow.

Dabi, to be blunt, looks like a straight up corpse that was freshly rolled out of a grave. His eyes are glassy and squinted somewhat, sensitive to the light in the kitchen, and his skin, the parts that aren’t scarred and unhealthy, are so pale he looks almost otherworldly. Save for his nose, which is a little pink around the nostrils. And, just like last night, he still seems unsteady on his feet; there is a noticeable side to side sway as Dabi stands there, eyes unfocused.

Still, Hawks can’t fight the smile that is creeping onto his face. When he first met Dabi, never did he imagine that one day in the near future, that same smug, lying bastard face would be in his kitchen, staring back at him while cocooned in what Hawks is sure is no less than ten different blankets and bed sheets. Currently, the entire bottom half of Dabi’s face is covered, allowing Hawks to only really see him from the nose up.

“Are you cold?”

“Yeah.”

Hawks snorts to himself as he turns back to the coffee pot, shutting it off after it chimes. “I didn’t even think you got cold.”

“When I’m sick, I do.” Dabi says, without much fanfare. Huh. It’s a little unnerving, Dabi giving straight answers, for once. He’s certainly being a lot more forthcoming than last night, that’s for sure.

Ah, the straightforwardness that comes with realization and the cessation of denial.

“Is it ready?” Dabi asks, already reaching for the coffee pot.

“Yeah, it’s rea- Hey! What the fuck are you doing, you lunatic?!”

Hawks quickly but carefully wrestles the still scalding hot coffee pot out of Dabi’s bare hands, managing to catch him just seconds before he upends the open pot over his face and into his mouth.

“I’m cold,” Dabi moans, glaring at him. Hawks glares back in disbelief.

“Okay, can I put the shit in a cup first? God!” Still holding the coffee pot tightly by the handle, Hawks shoves past Dabi to get to the cupboard and pulls out two mugs.

“This ain’t Game of Thrones, you fucking jackass,” Hawks snaps as he pours the coffee out into the mugs, “You're not a dragon. And you don't need anymore third degree burns.”

Dabi mumbles something rude but thankfully unintelligible as he lumbers closer, still keeping a tight grip on the blankets around him.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” He mutters as he bumps Hawks out of his way, “Move. I want coffee.”

He swipes one of the mugs before Hawks can even protest --that was his mug-- and does exactly what he had intended to do before: he chugs the piping hot liquid so fast he upends the mug over his face, eyes rolling shut blissfully. He doesn’t even stop to breathe.

Hawks watches the scene with saucer-wide eyes, and silently accepts the empty mug back when Dabi hands it to him some ten odd seconds later, a sated little grin on his face.

“I… stand corrected…” Hawks says in shock. Did he even feel that? Hawks has so many questions. But right now, he only settles for a few. “You good now?”

“Mm, yeah.”

“Are you still cold?”

“M’no.”

Hawks slowly raises a finger and points over to the couch. “Will you go back to sleep now?”

Dabi follows his finger. “Mm-hm,” He mumbles before he abruptly turns and ambles out of the kitchen. Hawks watches him go, not quite believing how easy of an interaction that was. Dabi and easy are two words that don’t belong in the same sentence. Ever.

He watches him go until he sees Dabi tumble face first down onto the couch. Hawks listens for a few seconds, to the rustle of sheets and blankets and Dabi’s little muttered curses as he makes himself comfortable in his blanket nest again.

When he finally settles down, Hawks lets out a loud exhale, allowing himself to take a sip of his now warm coffee.

He doesn’t like coffee all that much, but still, he already recognizes this as a rare moment of peace; one of the few, if any, he’s going to get today, so he takes advantage of it.

Halfway through the cup, he hears Dabi groaning from the living room and rolls his eyes. Rare, and so very, very brief.

He sets the cup down on the counter loudly.

What now?

That, he realizes as he walks out the living room, is not a question he really wanted an answer to.

#dabihawks #hawksdabi #hotwings #spicywings #bnha fic #fanfiction meme #bnha fanfiction #expect chapter 3 by this time next week most likely!

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dcarevu · 5 years

Text

Batman TAS: The Strange Secret of Bruce Wayne

“Sunshine. Clean air. I hate it.”

Episode: 37 Robin: Yes Writers: Judith Reeves-Stevens (teleplay), Garfield Reeves-Stevens (Teleplay), and David Wise (Story) Director: Frank Paur Animator: Akom Airdate: October 29, 1992 Grade: B

Whoa! Wait a minute! Didn’t we just talk about the episode Eternal Youth? And wasn’t that episode #29? Now we’re going to jump all the way up to #37? Did I miss something?

That was supposed to be an imitation of you. Not in a condescending way. Because yeah, we did jump ahead! Oh, don’t worry, we will be taking a look at every episode between Eternal Youth and Strange Secret, but we’ll be doing so in a “split timeline” fashion (term ripped from StephenVlogs/Zelda). I have been really behind with the posts for a while now because of the work I had in college. And I’ll keep getting further behind unless I do something. So today, we have jumped up to where I actually am with the episodes. This way I am caught up, and then I can go back and review the episodes I have missed when I have the spare time to do so. It’s as simple as that. And if you’re someone who would prefer not to read ahead, feel free to wait for me to catch up in the past timeline.

In the present timeline, we’re looking at Dr. Hugo Strange’s debut, as well as the first time we have seen some of Batman’s major villains work together. This episode is important, because it sets up possibilities for the future (ex Almost Got ‘im and Trial), but aside from that, it ends up being pretty inconsequential, and simply a fun episode with some laughs along the way. When we see the title and the title card, though, it is hard not to expect more. Char figured that this would be a deep episode about Batman’s past, and while we do go back in time a little bit through Bruce Wayne’s mind, it’s nothing that we haven’t seen before, and it’s incredibly short. Also, I don’t exactly know who that is on the title card. It looks like it is one of Strange’s men, but it’s also entirely possible that it is Bruce. It has virtually nothing to do with the episode, honestly, and because of that, it’s not one of my favorite title cards. Maybe this episode was much different in an earlier draft, and they had to water it down for kids. That wouldn’t shock me, this episode is a lot more cartoony than most. The main plot features a mind-reading device that leads its victims through personal, repressed memories, and then displays these thoughts as video onto a screen that Strange gets to look at. It also records the thoughts onto tape. Look, I’m willing to suspend my disbelief when it comes to invisibility (See No Evil), or even when it comes to transforming people into trees. This is a little silly. And this is following a pretty tense scene at the beginning, where a Gotham judge is desperately trying to buy one of these tapes back, which shows that she was the one who caused a major fire long ago as a child, and has kept it a secret ever since. She doesn’t have enough money to pay for the tape, so Strange’s goons don’t give it to her, and they tell her that she now owes even more (they also have a duplicate tape as backup, seen later. Evil bastards). She’s so desperate to get the tape, that when Batman swoops in to settle things, the tape happens to find its way onto a dangerous-looking metal beam, suspended above the water, and she crawls out to grab it (nearly falling). It may not be animated that well, but it makes for some good set-up. From here on, though, the episode receives a big tone shift.

After Dr. Hugo Strange reads Bruce’s mind, he discovers that Bruce is Batman. This is a major thing, no one so far in the show, villainous at least, has figured out who Batman is. Shouldn’t this be a super dramatic moment? But it’s really not. I question why Bruce didn’t simply look backwards to see what was showing on the screen or why he was so trusting to begin with, but even more so, I question how Strange deduced that Bruce is Batman through the footage shown. Yeah, we see the bat-signal and Batman’s glove, but this could be a simple metaphor or a desire to be Batman. It proves nothing, to me. But in the show’s logic, we must accept that this is enough to count, and now, armed with Bruce’s secret, Strange attempts to auction the tape to Joker, Penguin, and Two-Face. We get to see all four of these goobery characters interacting, and it is truly great. It’s what makes the episode so watchable. They have such strong personalities, and not once do they ever feel out of character. Even Penguin is a blast, only making one bird pun that I remember. And this bird pun is one that anyone would be likely to make, so it didn’t feel overly gimmicky. This is how to do Penguin right! As he sips his tea in the airplane as they are about to throw Strange out of it, I immediately realized that Batman in my Basement would not taint the character for me. Penguin, we have hope. Don’t screw it up. Two-Face being there wasn’t played seriously either, and this might bother some, but I was fine with it. It is sad to see Harvey stooping at such a low, but he’s a gangster now. It’s just how it is. Not every day for him is going to be that first episode with him all over again, y’know? And with him getting roasted by the Joker the way he did, I am totally open to having such a depressing character in such a casual episode. “Get out of my face, Clown.” “Which one?” Ouch, he walked right into that one.

The one major gripe that I actually have is the ending. I know I haven’t talked about it yet, but it has the same problem that I have with The Cape and Cowl Conspiracy where it is completely unbelievable. You’re telling me that not only does Bruce happen to have a perfect costume of himself that Dick can fit into, but also that Dick can do a 100% perfect Bruce Wayne impression? Get outta town! And then we got that exposition at the end, showing how Dick was able to appear so tall in Bruce’s clothes. I probably would have questioned it otherwise, but that could have been done more elegantly. Just show Dick stepping out of the stilts. We don’t need the “stilted” dialogue explaining it. I really don’t like when the show takes this route of Batman, or someone else, being disguised as someone else, because it always follows damn-near Scooby Doo-logic. Costumes aren’t that perfect. I just don’t buy it. It seems very “kidified", and like the writers simply had no idea how Batman would weasel out of this situation. If Loren Lester can actually do an impression of Kevin Conroy that well, I will eat my coffee cup.

I want this as a poster.

I’m sorry, but her hairline looks like it should belong to some middle-aged dude trying to be hip from the 70′s.

Seeing Batman walk along the top of the bridge was cool. Stealthy Batman is just as great to watch as brutal Batman.

But sometimes he’s both!

Sorry, but that judge was a lot thicker than that. Don’t skimp out.

Gordon chatting with Batman while appearing to be deep in thought, simply peering into the water was a nice touch.

Gordon witnesses Batman disappearing for once. It would be funny if from this point on, he thought that Batman always escaped via plane.

The large tombstones are cool, but this scene lacked the fluidity it required to be interesting.

The big reveal that Batman is Bruce Wayne. Ummm... Okay.

Looks kinda like Keaton Batman.

This face was really creepy. But apparently she started the fire on accident. Doesn’t really come across with a crazed look like that.

The animation didn’t destroy the episode or anything, but some of these characters have seen better days.

Like, I mean, it’s passable, but I’m not feeling the grotesqueness associated with Two-Face.

This was a rough shot. I’ve noticed that episodes tend to have trouble with shots featuring the Joker’s closed mouth.

Yikes. Look at. the henchman’s facial structure. What happened, dude?

I like the Joker’s popcorn-eating as Batman’s identity is about to be revealed.

And Hugo Strange rubbing his hands together with greed was delightfully silly. I also wonder how the rogues obtained so much money. I bet most of it is Penguin’s. Joker probably contributed the cents.

Got a nice screenshot of Penguin shooting the tape.

Nice badge.

Compare this to a similar scene in the Batman Beyond pilot. One has a much easier time climbing on a plane, given the suit.

Oh, Penguin. Thinking he’s so damn sophisticated as they drag a screaming man into the sky and threaten to toss him out the door. See, that would be absolutely barbaric, but the tea.

What a dreadful shot. Also, Strange’s voice actor (Ray Buktenica) knocks it out of the park with his pleas.

Once Gordon and Strange are gone, we see “Bruce” get a bit more of a smug expression that we don’t often see. This is actually Dick, and the change in expression I will praise. Still doesn’t excuse the overall scenario, though!

Char’s grade: A Next time: Heart of Steel (Part 1)

Full episode list here!

#dcau #dc animated universe #batman tas #the strange secret of bruce wayne #batman the animated series #btas #dr strange #dr hugo strange #hugo strange #batman #joker #two-tone #two face #twoface #penguin

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j-loves-bts · 6 years

Text

I found something

I just a draft for an original story I was gonna write like last year lmaoo.

Not that anyone cares but im gonna post it because I don’t think it was that badly written or that much of a bad idea.

Enjoy

Or dont whatever

Robert knew. He knew that trying to hide his children would not protect them forever but he had hoped. He had hoped that moving from a luxurious mansion to a tiny three bedroomed house on the outskirts of Wolverhampton would do something to stop them but it didn’t, it never would. They wanted his children, just like they had wanted him and his father before him. And he knew he couldn’t stop them.

Bee dee! Bee dee! Bee dee!

The alarm clock on the bedside table started its wakeup call. Charlie’s dirty blonde hair, the only thing visible from underneath her duvet, was sticking up in all directions. Ugghh. Her arm slid out from the warmth of the bed and hit the snooze button as her head slowly lifted to look at the clock. She could barely see out of her blurred vision.

6:30 am.

She slammed her face back down into the pillow, just five more minutes she thought to herself as she began to slip into sleep once again. She was startled awake by a banging on the bedroom door.

“Charlie come on! School!” Robert yelled.

She hated Mondays.

Charlie sat up in her bed, duvet wrapped around her petite frame, and huffed. If there’s one thing Charlie hates more than Mondays its January, winter was pretty, blankets of snow covering the ground and the smell of the fresh crisp air was all very beautiful to her but she was not too fond of how winter felt. The harsh coldness that made her layer up on clothing had never interested her, and the constant grey weather that never failed to put her in a bad mood.

Charlie sat in silence staring at the time as it went by, five minutes passed and Charlie was met with more banging and decided that it was about time to get ready for school.

“Okay I’m awake calm down!”

The room was full of darkness, another reason to hate winter she thought, she leaned over to turn her lamp on and with the flip of a switch the once black room was illuminated. She slid her feet into her bright red slippers and let the heavy duvet fall from her shoulders as she stood up. The drop in temperature caused her to shiver and run to the other side of the room to put on a dressing gown, she put on her glasses and opened the bedroom door.

She shuffled her way across the hall and down the stairs into the kitchen where her father and brother were eating breakfast.

“Good morning Charl” Robert greeted her but was given nothing but a grunt in response.

“Someone’s in a mood” Daniel sniggered.

“Shut it Danny” Charlie spat back at her brother as she made herself a cup of hot chocolate.

Daniel frowned at the back of her head and took a sip of his coffee.

“You’re the one who’s moody not me”.

“I am this close” Charlie brought her finger and thumb together “to pouring the contents of this kettle over your head”.

Charlie sat at the table with her drink in her hand and huffed at her brother.

“Guys it’s not even seven am yet, stop fighting” Robert looked at the both of them sternly before returning to his food.

Once Daniel finished his coffee he went to his room to get ready for school, he scanned the room in front of him until his eyes landed on his uniform that was neatly draped over the back of his desk chair. He took the clothes from the chair and began to get dressed while looking at his phone, checking messages and also the time. Daniel realised that his tie was nowhere to be seen and began searching the room for it but couldn’t find the piece of fabric.

“I do not have time for this.” He though aloud.

He went to the bathroom to fix his hair in the mirror, he combed his dirty blonde waves to one side while letting a few fall the opposite way and returned to searching for his tie.

Daniel ended up backdown stairs during his search and back in the kitchen asking for help.

“Can’t find my-“He began before being interrupted by his father who was holding the tie in his hand, not taking his eyes off of his newspaper.

“Ah thanks! Where was it?” He asked putting the green fabric around his neck.

“Where you always leave it, the Living room floor” Robert sighed. “Learn to pick your things up after yourself”

“Sorry, will do, bye!” Daniel rushed to the front door.

“Bag!” Robert and Charlie shouted after him.

He ran back into the kitchen, grabbing his bag from behind the door before leaving the house again just as quickly.

“Thanks!” He yelled as he shut the front door behind him.

Robert turned to Charlie as he began to get up.

“You need to get ready too before you’re late”

“I know, I’ll go now. What time are you home from work?” She stood up.

“Late, you better take your key” Robert grabbed his bag, bid a brief goodbye, and left the house.

Charlie returned to her room to get ready for the school day ahead, she enjoyed being in the house alone she found if relaxing and as though she could take her time with everything. Once dressed she brushed through her hair, making it tidier than when she woke, brushed her teeth and made her way to the school.

Charlie just made it as she entered the gates as the bell rang signalling that she needed to be in registration, teachers were dotted around the yard telling students to hurry up as Charlie entered one of the buildings. It was three floors high and extremely dull, the only colours visible being grey, white and a pale green. Charlie made her way up the stairs to the first floor, the maths floor, where her registration class was.

She entered the classroom and sat down at a desk, the seat next to her was empty and belonged to a friend whereas the desks surrounding where almost filled with students. Every desk except the one in front of her which happened to belong to her brother. She set her backpack on the back of her chair along with her puffy coat and took her phone out and messaged her brother to find out where we was, that was until he walked through the door seemingly out if breath and sat in the seat before her. He repeated her own actions with his backpack and coat before swivelling around in the chair to face her.

“Hey” Daniel rested his arms on her desk.

“You’re lucky sir isn’t here yet otherwise you’d be getting a late detention.” Charlie put her phone in her blazer pocket.

“You’re always late too!” He exclaimed.

“Why are you late anyway?”

“Got caught up in something”

“Fine don’t tell me” Charlie rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair.

Just as a second bell rang indicating that everyone should be in registration a tall black haired man walked into the room and sat down at the front of the room. He smiled to the class giving them a quick apology for being late and began to take the register.

Robert was home sooner than he had anticipated, it was 1pm and he had found himself sitting at the dining room table looking through some paperwork. All he could hear was the faint ticking of the clock perched on the wall behind him, it was almost irritating, he was used to noise and was hardly ever home alone so when he was it felt unnatural. To him natural was hearing music blaring from upstairs, it was having to listen to his teens bickering about who knows what. Natural was getting comfortable on the couch for a family movie night which would, sooner or later, cause yet another argument. He had lived with constant noise for the past 16 years of his busy life and wasn’t planning to sit in silence for the rest of it. Roberts thoughts were interrupted by a loud ringing echoing through the house, piercing the silence. Robert was hesitant on answering the phone as he did not recognise the number but figured it would be best to see who it was. He pressed the answer button and brought the phone up to his ear.

“Robert Manning?” A raspy voice asked through the speaker.

“Yes, who is this?” Robert questioned. He had heard this voice before but couldn’t pinpoint where or when.

“Well I am quite surprised you don’t remember me but I guess I have to take into consideration how long it has been, it has been a while hasn’t it?” The voice sounded amused at the fact he didn’t remember.

The voice sent shivers down Robert’s spine, who was it? Where had he heard the voice before? One thing he could interpret was that a man was speaking to him, he didn’t like how the voice was making him feel and was growing impatient.

“Who are you?” Robert asked more demanding and irritated than before.

“Its Johnathan, Robert, Johnathan Archer”

Robert’s eyes widened, his face ridden with fear. He froze in his place too terrified to move, he could practically hear the man smirking down the phone. That’s who it was, how could he not have known after all those years of answering to him. The name and the voice fit perfectly like pieces of a puzzle, the very same name that brought back so many memories for Robert. He was paralysed, unable to speak, unable to move.

“Are you shocked?” Jonathan laughed. “I thought you would be. Listen I haven’t got all day and I have several of these phone calls to make so lets make this as quick as possible shall we? I want them Robert.”

“My kids?” Robert swallowed hard and prayed to be wrong.

“Yes, your kids. Make this easy for yourself Robert, you knew this day was coming. I want them by tomorrow, tell me the flight they’ll be getting and ill have someone pick them up” Jonathan stated blandly as though he had no real interest.

“Tomorrow?! I’m sorry Jonathan but you know what tomorrow is, as much as I wanted to avoid it if I must send them I will but not tomorrow. Any other day but tomorrow” Robert Pleaded.

He heard a sigh from the man at the other end.

“Sorry Robert I know that you take them to Louise’s grave but you know how the boss is, I don’t make the rules around here and just make sure they’re followed.” The man’s voice seemed to soften at the subject but still held its seriousness.

“Fine, don’t expect them to be happy when they arrive though”

“Why would I?” With that said Jonathan put the phone down and Robert was left in silence once again.

The clock behind him ticked, but that wasn’t the only sound he could hear. His thoughts were racing with how’s? and what if’s? He didn’t know how he could tell them what was going on, everything he had kept hidden from them about his life, about their mother’s life, about their fate. The past 16 years of their lives he had kept so many secrets about who he really was and what he really did before they moved. The past 6 years he had been even more secretive, He had begged and prayed that this day wouldn’t come even if he knew it was inevitable, he didn’t have long to figure out where to start with the explanation there were only 2 more hours until they finished school…

It was 5pm and he still hadn’t said anything, he had a hard time finding the courage to tell them everything. He had no idea how they would react, would they hate him?

Robert creeped his was upstairs to ask the twins to come downstairs so he could tell them everything when he found them standing outside the bathroom, more than likely arguing over something stupid. He stopped at the top of the stairs for a moment and listened to the teens who seemed oblivious to his presence.

“Last time I did you a favour it got me into trouble so no” Daniel had an irritated tone to his voice.

“You won’t get into trouble this time though! I only want you to keep watch while I sneak out, please!” Charlie pleaded her brother.

“That will get me into trouble!”

“You can have my lunch money every day for like a month”

“Fine” Daniel rolled his eyes as Charlie had a pleased look on her face.

Robert wished he could stay in this moment forever, even if his children were bickering and up to no good as usual. Everything was about to change and he hated it, hated the thought of them not being around, hated the thought of them getting mad at him for keeping everything a secret but he had to do it. He didn’t have a choice.

“No one is going anywhere” Robert walked over to them. “I need to tell you something, downstairs.”

They nodded at him and trailed behind him as he led them into the dining room. They all sat down at the wooden table and Robert prepared himself. He took in a deep breath before releasing it and lifting his head to talk to his children.

“I don’t want any interruptions now, this is extremely important okay?” He made sure that his children understood the importance of the situation and how serious he was before continuing.

“I can’t explain everything right now but I’ll explain as much as I can. We can’t go to your mother’s grave tomorrow and it’s because I’m sending you somewhere, I don’t want you to get upset or angry with me although you have every right to…”

Robert sighed as he struggled to say what he needed to, his heart was pounding in his chest and his palm were sweating as he conjured up the courage to tell them what had been keeping from them for so long.

“I’ve been keeping some things from you but you need to understand that it was all for your safety. I used to work for an organisation, the founders of this organisation made it because there are bad people in the world, people that the police can’t control. I worked there from a young age but I didn’t choose to, I was forced there because my mother and father worked for them. I don’t have amazing memories from that place but I have no choice than to send you too. Never did I actually think this day would come but I got a phone call earlier today, they’re asking for you and they want you by tomorrow.”

The two teens in front of him had shock across their faces, they didn’t speak though they waited for their father to finish his explanation.

“It’s for your own good, I’m afraid that if… if I don’t send you what happened to your mother will happen to you. I’m so sorry I have to tell you this but she didn’t die in a car accident, she died because they wanted her and she refused because she refused the people the organisation is against killed her. I don’t want to send you there, trust me but it’s all to keep you safe”

“What….”

#writing #idk #random situation #its from like a year ago idk what I was doing tbh #quite well written considering its me though so #theres that

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elizaxspears · 6 years

Note

Oh my gosh wonderful! Can you do a Slingphries pairing AU of Pirate Captain Eric catching a merman (or mershark) Alan? The rest is up to use your creative mind. (Hope it doesn’t sound too cliche or cheesy) Or if not that one, a possible Werewolf Eric encountering Hunter Alan? Either one is fine, or if you feel up to both then that’s fine too! Thanks!

My apologies that this took a bit to write! To be honest, I’ve wanted to write a Merman!Alan AU for sometime, I have a few random bits here and there stored away, so thank you for letting me indulge in one of my secret writing pleasures! I hope you enjoy it!

Also, I tried on the Pirate stuff. I’m not the best at it, but hopefully it was something you were looking for! And wow. I forgot this was a oneshot and almost started making this into an entire blown out story. Sorry again if the end feels kind of cut short or rushed or anything.

If it wasn’t what you were wanting then message me and I’ll write something else with Merman!Alan and Pirate!Eric. This is just what first came to mind from old Merman Alan drafts I had!

The ship swayed, carried by the waves. The wind harsh against the sails, pushing the grand ship forward. Dark clouds began forming overhead, swallowing the blue sky. The way they were headed, treacherous waters were to follow, but if they were to find what they’d set out searching for, extreme waves would be well worth it.

A creature had been seen, a being that only was ever seen by the human eye a handful of times. The elegant, emerald tail with iridescent scales just reflecting enough to catch the eye of a few fisherman sitting at the docks. The full body of the creature had never been revealed but, even by this simple rumour, the search for the being began. Many went out to sea and many never returned, swallowed by the very waters this being lived in.

This would not have been the first sighting of one of these creatures. Though extremely rare, they had been seen and one even caught. Though never physically seen by anyone, the sailor who announced its presence held a scale not belonging to any fish. The man was made rich then, many pay far more than what they truly could afford all to even glimpse at proof of a myth.

As of now, Captain Eric Slingby took his crew out to sea to search for this creature under the belief, if a scale was worth that much, a whole tail would make them and any future generations, richer than the bloody King. The warnings the Captain heard did nothing to deter him, determined to finally repay what he owed. Though considered a private among the town, not welcome anywhere but his own boat, Captain Slingby had a debt to repay. He was by no means a righteous man, never claimed to be, nor did he ever claim to be an honest man, but he would pay what they owed.

The grey clouds grey darker until they were near black. A flash in the sky let the Captain know that it was time to prepare the crew for these waters.

The first wave hit the ship hard, knocking a few off their feet. The Captain remind steading at the helm, hands gripping tightly to the wheel. His teeth were grit to the point they might have shattered, his eyes narrowed, focused on nothing but getting through this storm. If there were to be that light at the other end, he would see it, damn it. “Capin’, we’re no’ gonna make it through this one.”

The voice didn’t matter, whoever spoke to him didn’t matter. All he needed to do was focus. “If ye think tha’, we’ll throw ye overboard now an’ get it done quicker.” The Captain sneered, arms shaking just a bit with the pounding waves trying to force them off course.

When they did break free of the storm, the water calming down until the large waves that hit them before split as the ship carried on, there was little time to take a deep breath. Almost immediately, the clear water provided sight to the same tail they’d heard about. “Captain!” someone from beloved called, “it’s here!” The Captain instantly ordered them all to get the net ready. It may not have been the best plan, but there was no way for them to go about this without accidentally killing this myth.

Perhaps it was too easy for a reason, but once the large net was tossed over, the weight they felt when holding it told them they’d caught what they aimed for. “Pull it up!” the Captain ordered, helping his crew pull up the net. To their surprise, the myth so many had been chasing now lay on the deck still trapped within the rope.

There was a moment of pause on the Captain’s part. The being laying in front of him could no long be considered a myth. The gorgeous, emerald green tail that glistened in the sun, the long, translucent fins, the same on the creatures arms. None of this was a myth anymore. As his eyes trailed up a lean torso, his eyes came to lock with a set of emerald eyes, the colour his tail. Chocolate brown hair fell slightly in front of those eyes, wet with the water he was just pulled from, his entire body still glistening with water droplets, but they met his eyes nonetheless. The Captain expected to see a sense of fear, maybe even anger, but all he got was curiosity. “Capin’?” a hand waved in front of his eyes. “Wha’ should we do with ‘im?” one of his mates asked, his voice conveying the amazement no doubt all of them felt.

Subconsciously his hand reached for his sword on his hip. The first thing that flash through his mind was cut off the tail, dump the upper half back in the water and take back the treasure. However, the longer he starred into those eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to do so or even order it. “We’ll take ‘im back tae town.” he looked around. “Tha’ crate. Bring it ‘ere, fill it with water an’ put ‘im in it. Cannae ‘ave him dying on us.”

“Aye, aye, Capin’.”

Eric stepped out of the way, watching the mer-creature. Though he looked dazed now, when he was touched he instantly tried fighting off those who grabbed hold of his arms, yanking him up to dump him in the create. They were rough with the being but Eric didn’t expect any different.

Slowly, the crate was filled with enough water to keep the being alive but not enough to be comfortable, not that the wooden crate would be comfortable in any regard to being with.

They kept watch over the being until the blue of the sky fell away to the dark of night, the little lights of stars flickering on as they sailed back to port.

The Pirate Captain was unable to sleep. He’d gotten used to the scratchy blankets and the swaying of the sea, but knowing the myth that attracted so many sailors was merely sitting in a crate half filled with water on the deck made him uneasy.

He removed himself from bed, foregoing his black coat to walk shirtless into the night, his body covered in battle scars and ink, all of which he prided himself on.

From his Captain’s Quarters to where the mer-creature rested, Eric felt every wave under his feet. Perhaps he was asleep and dreaming; the light mist that drifted in not helping that conclusion. When he did come to stand by the crate, the being looked asleep himself, curled in on himself, keeping as much of himself submerged as he could. This almost felt worse then killing him. “Will you continue to stare?”

Eric watched those eyes slide open, that same look of genuine, almost childlike, curiosity in those orbs. “Yer new tae me. Cannae help it.”

“Well, you’re not so familiar to me either yet I’m not gawking.”

Eric crossed his arms. “Familiar? Weren’t ye the one swimmin’ about near town?”

The merman frowned. “I was, yes, but I was only admiring from afar. I’ve never been this close to humans before.” he looked down at himself, flicking his tail so it flopped over the edge of the crate. “Suppose this is a proper punishment for me, hm? I allowed myself to be seen, hunted and now caught.” his arms hugged himself, that frown only tugging harder downward. “You’re meant to put me on display, right?”

Eric sighed, shaking his head. “Sorry lad, bu’ no.”

The merman blinked, shock now floating in those orbs. “No? Then you mean to…” when he realized that he would no longer see the sea or visit his underwater garden he’d spent so long meticulously crafting, his shoulders slouched, head bowing. “I see. Well, I suppose it’s fair. You caught me, after all.”

Eric wasn’t sure why he decided to, but instead of rolling his eyes and walking away from what he suspected to be a guilt-trap, he sat on the edge of the crate, letting folded hands rest in his lap. “Aye, it is fair.” he replied.

The merman looked up at him, his eyes flicking up and down, trying to look him over the best he could. “Can you make it quick?”

“I will.”

“Then…that’s all I ask.”

Eric brushed back a strand of his blonde hair undone from his earlier ponytail. “Ye ‘ave a name?”

“You’re going to kill me. Does it matter?”

“No.”

He turned his head to the water, letting the breeze be the only thing to break their silence. “Alan.”

Eric returned his attention to ‘Alan’. “Yer name?”

“Yes. Alan.”

“Eric then. ’s my name.”

“Eric.” Alan spoke as if testing the name on his tongue. “Suits you.”

“Suits ye too.” He watched Alan shift in the crate, wincing. He was no doubt cramped, especially when he would have been used to the vast room that the sea supplied. “‘m sorry ye ‘ad tae be put in tha’. Dinnae no’ want ye dyin’ sae…soon.”

“Why?’

That was answer Eric did have a question to. By rights, it’d be easier to do it that way and be done with it all, but again, he could not bring himself to unsheathe his sword. “We jus’ dinnae.”

The Captain was unaware how long he sat out there. He just knew that it was too long but even as he bid Alan a goodnight or morning, he couldn’t get him off his mind. Night after night he went back to visit the merman, all the time keeping his crew away from him as if they were vultures. Shrinking their duties to admire.

Eventually, it came time where they would arrive home the next day but even as Eric sat with Alan, there was regret weighing heaving in his stomach. Something he rarely ever felt. “I was nice to see such lovely sunsets.” Alan said, having found the most comfortable position in his crate. “It’s hard to see them so well from sea level sometimes.” he rested his folded arms on the edge of the crate, setting his chin on top of them. “You look upset.”

Eric turned his gaze to Alan from the stars he’d been watching. “I dun think I can do this.”

Alan cocked his head. “No? And why not?”

“Ye dun…dun deserve this.”

Alan reached out, his hand resting on Eric’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “I told you that this was my fault, didn’t I?”

“Aye, but we went lookin’ fer ye. All the way out ‘ere too.”

Slowly, that hand traveled from his shoulder, up his neck to his cheek, guiding him down as Alan leant up. “Why do you want the gold?”

Eric felt his brow furrow. “Wha’?”

“The gold for getting one of my scales. Why do you want it?”

“I need tae pay someone off,” he began without thinking, “fer me sisters family. She needs it.”

Alan hummed, soothing his hand through Eric’s hair then leant in for a kiss that shocked the Captain. The merman lips were warm and smooth. Addicting, even. Eric allowed himself to indulge in the kiss, turning around to properly embrace the merman, wanting to pull him closer into his arms. “My, you seem desperate.” the merman breathed, parting the kiss enough to speak.

“’s jus’ ye.” and he kissed him again.

Alan took his hand, the one supporting the Captain on the edge to the crate and brought it to rest on his hip. “You can touch it, if you wish. I know many have the urge once they see it.”

Eric looked down at his hand then Alan’s tail. Carefully, he took that invite to run his palm down the scales. They were smooth under his hand, his fins feeling like almost like silk. “Amazin’.”

Alan laughed softly, letting his hand glide over Eric’s chest. “Now may you help me back to the water?”

“Back tae the water?”

Alan nodded. “I need to go back so I can repay you.”

For some reason, there was no need to question the creature. “Alrigh’.” he reached under, securing one arm under Alan’s tail and the other against Alan’s back. He hoisted the merman from his crate and walked toward the edge of the boat. “Do I jus’ throw ye in?”

Alan laughed again. “Just set me on the rail.” so Eric did, setting Alan down on the wooden rail. “Before I go, when you return to shore, go to the rock further out from where you stand on the dock. I’m sure you know the one. My repayment will be there.” and with that, the merman pushed himself off the edge of the rail and dove into the water, hardly making a splash.

He’d crawled out of his crate and pulled himself over the edge. That was the excuse Eric used when his crew demanded to know where the hell they’re payment went. Most seemed to take it, others cussed him out and left. Eric really didn’t care honestly. He would replace them with stronger, better men anyway.

Still, once they docked, Eric went to the rock. It always had an odd sheen to it that attracted many but he searched around and found nothing. He damned himself then, for being fooled by the creature.

He went back the next day despite the sour taste in his mouth except this time, there was something. A bag. He picked it up and opened it to find quite the amount of gold and jewels. This would be enough to repay those debts and then some. He looked up, scanning the horizon as the sun set. There, in the distance, he could see someone floating in the water. They waved at him then dove under the water, that tail catching in the last few rays of sunlight. Eric felt his heart thump then, a grin spreading on his lips. Something told him he’d be seeing Alan again but until then, they both still had the sunsets to keep them connected.

#slingphries #alan humphries #eric slingby #black butler #kuroshitsuji #my writing #animedragongirl12

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