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yandere-kokeshi · 10 months

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— Who hurt you?

— yandere dad-ghost x gn teenager reader

Summary || You come home bloodied and bruised from school. While getting patched up by your dad, you reveal things

A/N || This is one of my favorite fics atm. Idk why but seeing soft dad ghost?? Yeah. That's how to do, my heart is. Anyway, enjoy 😉

Warnings || details of being hurt/bullied, blood, hints that ghost kills, and comfort.

Copper and sharpie. That’s all you can smell. The stench has embossed itself on your clothes, your flesh, and inside your nostrils. It was embarrassing really, coming home after being chased by bullies.

They slapped you to the ground. Laughed in your face as the girls kept you from getting up, sitting directly on your chest. They pulled out permanent markers and drew foul things on your face, arms, and legs.

Knead your stomach and kicked you. All you wanted was to hang out with them.

Silence settles between the bathroom, hearing your dad — Simon Riley, Ghost or a big Kodiak bear you like to call him, go through his bedroom, the sounds of his drawers opening and closing as he huffs loudly.

You heard the cruel rumors of your reputation. It was a gnawing sort of feeling of betrayal. One that ate away at your very soul and left nothing but pain in its wake. The action alone may not be the worst thing in the entire world. But what made betrayal ache was that in the past, in its place, was trust.

The rumors of you spread like a disease; whispers in the school of ‘slut’ and ‘freak’. Everyone looked at you like something else. Even teachers scoffed at you. You thought you could handle it, until today. It’s expected for your favorite shirt to be stained — again.

You didn’t want to hear your dads voice. Him being incredibly disappointed in you.

You leaned your head on the back of the toilet, chewing the inside of your cheek as you waited for him to come in. It was long, just like the torture you’d endured hours before.

“What happened?”

You stayed quiet, continuing to look up at the white ceiling before turning your head to the side, looking at him in the doorway with half-lidded eyes. He’s leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed against his chest; almost like he’s disappointed. But his voice says otherwise.

“Kiddo, what happened?” he re-asks, his boots creaking with the shift in weight distribution, floorboards straining as he walks across the space toward you.

You stayed quiet, making him stare at you before sighing.

He opened the bottom of the sink, grabbed the med kit and seized the necessary items before turning on the faucet, grabbing another dark rag due to the one you’re holding already used; stained with markers, blood, and some snot.

Your dad clicked his tongue, “What the hell happened?”

“M’ don’t wanna talk about it,”

“You worried me,” your dad voiced, using your name. You considered his words carefully, staring at your lap, legs, and arms littered with all kinds of marks.

“You also worry too much,” you pointed out, watching him kneel before you.

He steals your words from your mouth when his huge hand settles around the bloodied rag in your palm. He doesn’t speak; at first, silence hangs between you, once again as throws it away; grabbing the cloth into the sink. Then, he soaks it until it’s dripping, droplets pinging off the surface, and wrings it out. His dorsal muscles ripple beneath the backs of his palm, veins a ballpoint color and standing out against his pale skin.

“You didn’t answer your phone,” he directs, carefully holding the damp fabric and slowly reaching for your face. “I thought something happened. Which did.”

You stayed quiet for a second. “… I didn’t mean to scare you,” you whisper.

You can see his brown eyes narrow, his mind occupied by something. Clearly, he’s angry. And who wouldn’t? Finding your kid barely able to stand up, laying against the wall for help covered in bruises and blood, was a frightening sight. Especially with his type of job, anything is possible.

The pressure of the cloth against your face is so delicate, almost like he’s appearing afraid to hurt you — gently brushing away the flecks of blood in your hairline as well as the drawings. He shakes his head gently, considering your words. “Not your fault, kiddo.”

He then grabbed your arm, rotating your wrist as he examined the bruises and forming – you watched his face fill with fury.

“Who did this to you?” he seethed, voice deep and low, a tone you’d heard not so much before.

You shook your head, clearly not in the mood to talk about it. But it didn’t satisfy him, he called your name, demanding you to look at him. Tears were already falling before more words curled out of his mouth.

At long last, finally with the adrenaline and frightened state going away, you let your guard down, letting tears pour down your eyes. It stung, face hurting more than you’d like. But you didn’t care. You needed to cry.

Your hands went up to wipe away the tears, but before you can hit your sore cheeks, he’s capturing you in his arms and pulling you to his chest. He doesn’t say anything, letting your head rest on his shoulder. All you required at this moment was to be held, to know you were loved. And that he wasn’t mad — never at you.

He rubbed your back, kissing the side of your head as you cried out more — sobbing turned into occasional hiccups and gasps, then sniffles and permanent hiccups that he would occasionally let out a chuckle on.

“Ready to talk about it, kid?” He asks cautiously, prodding but patient. You only sigh softly before looking up at him, quickly noticing the snot and tears stained into his gray hoodie.

“It’s just…” you pause, trying to find the right words to say. “Things have been rough, lately. School has been hard. Everything seems to be going wrong. Especially with the other kids.”

His eyes squint as he listens to you speak, the hazel color meeting your own, leaving you choking in your words. He’s your dad. You shouldn’t be afraid of telling him. But what if—?

“—And I know that being a teenager is hard. But, I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to see them.” you trail off, a shuddering breath escaping your lips as you feel your eyes swell up once more.

His thumb catches them before they fall, however, and you smile at him for a moment before continuing.

“I’m scared to go back,” you whisper brokenly.

For a moment, the bathroom is silent, but all at once your dad’s arms are tightly around you in a hug. All-encompassing, it only makes you cry once more. Your head slumps over, forehead pressing into his shoulder – his hand pressing against the back of your neck.

“How long has it been happening?”

You shrug your shoulders, digging yourself deeper into his shoulder. “Long enough, I guess…”

“Kiddo…” he starts, sighing out of defeat. “Shit- I’m sorry for not noticing. Le’s keep you home, mkay’?”

“Okay,” you whisper, but that’s good enough for him. His hands started rubbing your back, before reaching over for the rag on the counter — continuing to clean up the stained marks and your irritated cheeks.

“Do you need me to do anything?” he says, his tone hardened. From the looks of it, he had a plan. But, you knew or not. His face was unreadable at times.

You shook your head, before hissing out at the soaped cloth on your cheek. He gently moved your hair out of the way, just enough to expose the wound near your eye.

“Sorry. Need to make sure it won’t get infected.”

Before you know it, he was done. Already putting the first aid kit back under the sink and throwing the used cloth into the wash. “Tell ya’ what,” he says, making you raise your eyebrows. Though, he pulled his cracked-screen phone from his pocket, the exact one he’s had for years and the one you’ve begged to get a new one.

He offers it to you, already on the phone on. More often or not, he didn’t let you snoop through it. Licensed files detailed in the phone. Plus, the last time you played a prank on him with it, he grounded you — for two weeks.

“W-hat do you want me to… do?” you stammered questioningly, hesitantly grabbing it before looking at the screen. Then back at him.

“Order pizza. Get whatever you want.”

Your eyes widened, a smile widening to which he chuckled at. “There you are,” he says fondly, hand brushing your hair back. “You get whatever, yeah?”

“Okay,” you say, the first true smile forming today.

You got up, eagerly running out of the bathroom and downstairs as Simon yelled a small ‘watch it!’. As he gets up from his knees, he walked into his office – making sure to hear that you’re calling the pickup line before ringing Price.

He immediately answered, asking what he needed. From the way you described their name-calling, the images of you sobbing as he held you, anger filled his veins, knuckles turning white as he clenched his fist with rage.

“I need a favor.”

And weeks later, the news began talking about a murder spree – snapping you out of your thoughts, only to see both of your ex-friends, and those teachers on TV. A pang of guilt set through you. But, beside you, your dad had a huge smile; one that was promising to never let anyone hurt you.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

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viking-raider · 1 month

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Syverson Family War

Summary-> You've just gotten off a 12-hour shift at the hospital, only to return home and get swept up into a Syverson Family War, between your husband and three children.

Pairing-> Austin "Sy" Syverson/Reader

Word Count-> 3.2k

Warnings-> PG: FLUFF, Cotton Candy Fluff, Light Teasing, Soft!Sy, SAHD!Sy, Nurse!Reader

Inspiration-> This Instagram Video (If this isn't Sy vibes, idk who Sy is!)

Author’s Note-> This is a work of Fiction!

Divider by-> @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

You were more than excited to be home after a nearly twelve hour shift at the hospital. Your back throbbed and your feet were screaming at the top of their arches from running up and down the ER department. You didn’t not even bother gathering up your tote of stuff, as you got out of your car, since you had the next two days off. So, they would wait until a two hour long bubble bath and a nap with eternity.

But upon entering your modest, two story Ranch house, you were bombarded by silence. Your eyes narrowed as they scanned the dining room to your left and living room to your right, ears pricking up for the slightest movement from the bedrooms upstairs.

Something was clearly off. It was almost never this quiet in the Syverson household.

There was always some sort of ruckus or chaos in motion. Your husband blasting music in the garage, where he had set up a small work-out area or telling off whatever game was playing on the enormous tv in the living room. If it wasn’t Sy, it was a combination of your three kids. Your two boys wrestling each other over a toy or giggles, or your daughter discovering a new, little critter from the backyard and bringing it in, before promptly losing it. Or all three kids getting into mischief with each other somehow.

But when it was silent, you knew there were real shenanigans afoot.

You drew in a deep breath, mustering what energy you had left inside yourself, for Syverson Madness. “Guys! I’m home!” You called out, swinging the front door shut with a little more strength than usual, as you moved a step deeper into the powderkeg. “What are you nuts up to?” You mumbled to yourself, moving towards the living room, still trying to keep yourself alert for any kind of trap or scare.

Little good it did, as a strong hand suddenly grabbed your elbow and yanked you backwards into the dark portal of the laundry room door, with a yelp. The hand shifted to your mouth and the door closed with a soft click.

“Ssshh.” Sy cooed at you, moving his hand away. “Gotta keep quiet, Sugar Butt.” He chuckled at you.

You could hear the smirk on his bearded face, before he clicked on the tactical flashlight he was carrying. You looked him over in the dim light, discovering him in his full Army tactical gear, minus his bare feet. He even sported his night vision goggles clipped to his helmet.

“What in the he-” You were about to demand, scanning him again, but spotted one of your son’s Nerf Rifles strapped to his back. “Give me that!” You huffed, gobsmacked, as you took the light and started checking him and the laundry room out. “Good Lord, Almighty!” You laughed, shaking your head.

He had a Nerf pistol in his thigh holster, a pump gun on the dryer, a blaster beside that, and copious amounts of ammo on the washer, with pop grenades. Which you knew were filled with either baby powder or flour from the last time a Syverson War had been declared on the house.

You looked up at your husband, bottom lip trapped between your teeth for a moment. “How long has World War Syverson Seven been going?” You asked, completely amused by how lost Sy got into playing with your kids, and how much they loved it when he did.

Sy looked at his watch. “Since just after breakfast. Myles chose violence and shot Ada in the back, while she was trying to color a picture. Tears ensued, which caused Colt to declare revenge on Myles, in Ada’s name.”

“You got roped into this, how?”

“Ada got in on it, insisting she didn’t need a man to defend her honor…”

“That’s my girl.” You chuckled, smirking.

“It is.” Sy laughed back. “But, in defending her own honor, she shot me in the leg, while I was trying to get them to chill out.”

You nodded your head, seeing all the pieces fall into place. “Which, obviously, by the Syverson Code, requires you to defend your own honor.”

“Obviously, Angel!” Sy answered, faking outrage. “You should know that, after fifteen years!”

“Fifteen years, and I’m still jotting things down in the Syverson Code of Conduct booklet!” You laughed, shaking your head, there were a lot of things Sy lived and would die by.

They were many of the things that made your heart swell with love for the burly, ex-Army vet.

“So, how do I configure into this madness?”

“You just got home from a super long shift, Sugar.” He answered, brow pinching. “You’re an innocent bystander. I just had to save you before one of those hellions out there shot you.”

“My savior.” You cooed, pushing up on your toes and kissing him. “My back and arches appreciate you.”

“The Lair is off limits, per usual.” He informed you. “We just have to make it out of here and upstairs.”

“Quite the way.” You commented, mentally mapping your and Sy’s route out of the laundry room, through the living room and entryway, then finally up the stairs and home free to the master bedroom, which was referred to as the Lair, where you could rest without having to worry about the family war.

“All right, Captain, what’s the plan?”

He gave you the Syverson wink and reached over your head, there was a sharp click and from outside the laundry room, you heard the kids’ screech. Sy had thrown the power switch to the house, plunging it into the darkness. You chuckled, smirking, understanding his tactic now.

“Stay close.” He whispered to you, clicking his ammo to his vest on, before moving to the door. “The enemy is sneaky and uncivilized.” He said, pressing his body against it, listening carefully to the other side.

“Like their father.” You mumbled under your breath with a snort, huddling yourself against his back.

“I’d say more like their mama.” Sy commented back, reaching back to pop you on the bum, then slowly cracked open the door.

You shuffled out after him, casting glances over your shoulder every few seconds. It was easy going, getting through the living room. Sy had defended it mightily throughout the day, so the kids had become shy about entering their father’s domain. You trusted Sy to protect you, from everything, your kids included. Silly as that was to think.

“We have movement at 12!” Sy called out, catching your nine year old, Myles, through his night vision in his fort, consisting of the dining table and chairs that he was hunkered down underneath, belly crawling from one end towards the other, closing the gap between himself and the entryway. “He’s under the table. A sneaky little sniper boy.” He snickered, shouldering the Nerf-AR resting against his side.

You scrunched yourself up behind Sy’s wide and muscular back as Nerf Darts started whizzing by, striking the scuffed wood floor or sticking to the walls. Both Sy and Myles laughed maniacally as they shot at each other; tossing weak insults on top of it.

“Milk drinker!” Myles shouted, hustling to reload.

“Lizard eater!” Sy shot back, smirking.

“Now, boys!” You scolded weakly, snorting.

They continued their assault, Sy guiding you towards a pocket the bottom stairs provided coming down into the foyer, allowing you to take cover and him to shoot through the bars of the steps.

“Are you hit?” You asked, playing along with the game.

“Nothing I’ll die from.” He answered, reloading his weapons. “But, you can be a good nurse and kiss them all better.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“That’s cheating!” Myles yelled out.

“Well, If I was over there, I’d do the same thing to you, Bud!” You called back, planting a kiss on Sy’s cheek, his well-groomed beard tickling your skin.

“An aid relief truce then?” Myles suggested, poking his head out from under the table.

“Certainly not!” Sy barked back, popping a Nerf dart off over his son’s head, sending him scurrying back into his fort. “She’s my nurse! I found her out wandering the battlefield, unprotected. If you wanted her to be your nurse, you should have found her first, yourself!”

“I almost did! Before you kidnapped her!” Myles huffed, hotly. “You’re holding her hostage!” He suddenly insisted. “Don’t worry, Mama. I’ll rescue you!”

“Oh my, a hostage situation.” You sighed, licking your lips. “I appreciate your devotion, son.”

“Ha.” Sy scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t think so, boy. I’m escorting this lovely lady to the Lair.”

As Sy and Myles argued over who was going to have the pleasure of accompanying you upstairs, you caught a slight movement behind you and Sy, lurking in the darkness of the living room; moving slowly. It vanished behind the couch, and for a moment you thought it was just Aika, but when something popped up over the back of the couch, then quickly ducked down again, you were then positive it wasn’t the old girl. But your Daddy’s girl, Ada. Of all the children, six year old Ada was the most like her father. She’d been attached to Sy’s hip from the moment she left your womb. Hanging on Sy’s every word, movement and action, that sometimes it spooked you.

So, watching her stealth around in the dark of the living room was both impressive, amusing and a tad terrifying. Especially since you knew the little hellion was coming for revenge on her father and brother. There were no alliances between them during a Syverson war. You were the only ally allowed to go between the four of them. Mending wounds, mostly pretend ones, but sometimes there were real ones. Sometimes, you’d team up with one of them, to take on the other three.

“On your six! In the living room, babe!” You warned, snagging the Nerf pistol from Sy’s thigh holster as he reacted, purely by instinct, removing one of his baby powder pop grenades, tossing it behind him without looking, trusting your instruction.

Ada startled, surprised that you had noticed her, followed by a cloud of baby powder obscuring her view. She came to a halt, upon hurdling the back of the couch, in an attempt to overtake you and Sy. You took aim and fired, the Nerf dart hitting her square in the chest.

“Nice shot, hon.” Sy nodded, patting your leg, then called out to his daughter. “Sorry, Cricket, but that’s a kill shot.” He told her, his voice soft, but uncompromising.

Ada huffed, pressing her lips together. “Not fair, Mama isn’t supposed to shoot us! She doesn’t have anything to avenge!” She protested, crossing her arms.

Sy chuckled, cocking his head at her. “Mama has her own special rules in our Wars, you know that, Cricket.”

“I’ll come kiss it better, but you know Daddy’s five minute rule.” You chimed in, feeling bad about it, you honestly hadn’t meant to hit her, it was just a lucky shot.

But rules were rules. You could go and kiss her boo-boo better, allowing her to enter the War game again. However, Sy had made a rule that anyone hit with a Kill Shot had to be dead for at least five minutes, before you could render aid to them.

“All right.” Ada sighed, before flopping to the floor with a dramatic sound.

“Where were we?” Sy asked, then nodded. “Right, Myles, kindly allow me to escort my Nurse upstairs.”

“No deal, Pops.” Myles replied, shaking his head.

“Can I just go upstairs on my own?” You asked, peeking at your son through the spindles of the stairs.

Myles was quiet for a moment, considering. “Only if I get to keep you to myself for an hour!” He finally answered.

“Oh, he drives a hard bargain, that son of yours.” You teased Sy, tickling the back of his neck.

“That he does.” Sy agreed, shivering, as he brewed over Myles' offer. “You can have her for thirty minutes!” He negotiated with him.

“Thirty minutes!” Myles barked in outrage.

“You have to go to bed in two hours, boy!” Sy reminded him.

“So, give her to me for an hour!”

You smirked and pressed your palm to the base of Sy’s neck, leaning in close, your lips brushing against his ear, so only he could hear you. “Let him have me for the hour, Austin. I’ve been gone for twelve hours, and they have to go to bed in two. It’ll give me a little bit of time with them.” You reasoned with your husband. “We’ll have all night together after they're asleep, and the next two days, when they're at school.”

Sy nodded, rubbing his lips together. “You’re right.” He whispered back to you. “All right, you can have her for an hour, after you let her go upstairs and do what she pleases.”

A muffled yes came from the dining room. “Deal! You’re free to come out, Mama!”

“Thank God! I have to pee really bad.” You chuckled, kissing Sy, before scurrying out of your hiding place with him and started up the stairs, as you reached the top, you wondered where your middle child, Colt, was.

The seven year old was oddly missing in action the whole time the rest of you were battling and negotiating downstairs. As you reached the top, a cry filled the air, startling the life out of you, before a fury of Nerf darts peppered you all over.

“COLT!” You howled at the boy, dashing for your bedroom door and taking cover behind it.

“Colt Nero Syverson!” Sy’s voice called up the stairs. “You know the rules about firing upon your mother!”

“I’m sorry, Mama.” Colt’s soft voice whimpered in the dark to you. “I didn’t know it was you.”

“It’s fine, little man.” You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “Just mind yourself.”

“Okay, Ma.” He smiled, ducking back into his hiding place; his room.

“Oh, this family.” You sighed again, closing the door and rushing for the en suite, tugging off your shoes as you went. “Ooo.” You cooed, enjoying the feeling of the icy tile on your bare, throbbing feet.

Bladder empty, you splashed some cool water in your face, then got out of your nursing scrubs, replacing them with a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top. You laid down on your and Sy’s enormous bed, dozing off for a couple minutes before getting back up to fulfill the promises you made to Ada and Myles.

“Colt, I’m coming out, please don’t shoot me.” You called through the crack you opened in the bedroom door.

“Okay, Mama!” He called back.

Coming out of the room, you stood at the top of the stairs, but frowned and turned, heading down to Colt’s room. “What are you doing, buddy?” You asked, peeking around the doorframe, seeing he had made a little barricade and was hunkered down behind his bed. “Why haven’t you come down to challenge your dad, brother and sister?”

“Oh, I have, Ma!” He answered, his smile showing off the two front teeth he lost a month before. “I’m just waiting for the most opportune time to go back downstairs to finish off whoever is left.” He sat up on his bed a little more, eyeing you. “How many of them are left?”

You smirked at him, slyly. “You know I’m not allowed to give away information to someone, especially if I’m not teamed up with them, little man.”

“Poop.” He huffed, slapping his mattress and sitting back. “Do you wanna be on my team?” He asked, hopeful.

“Sadly, your Papa had to bargain me off to your brother for an hour, so I could go to the Lair and change.” You informed him, giving him a sympathetic smile. “But, how about this? When it’s bedtime, I’ll come and read to you, whatever you want.”

“Eragon!” He gasped, enthralled again.

“Deal.”

“Deal!”

“All right, wee man, if I don’t see you before then, I’ll see you at bed time.” You cooed at him.

You headed back downstairs, pausing on the middle landing. “I’m coming downstairs, don’t shoot!” You announced to Sy and Myles.

“All clear!” They both called back.

You joined them downstairs, finding them just as you left them.

“Mommy, can I be alive again?” Ada called to you from her spot behind the couch.

“Yes, love, I’m coming right now to fix your boo-boo.” You replied, crossing the entryway and leaned over her, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “There, sweet girl. All healed and alive again. Off you trot. Why don’t you watch a movie on your tablet, until bedtime?”

“Thanks, Mama!” She giggled, hugging your waist, then ran off.

With your daughter resurrected, you joined Myles in the dining room, and despite the soreness in your body, got under the table with him. “Just you, Colt and your Papa now, big man.” You told him, propping your head up on your hand. “Tough crowd.”

“But I got you, Mama.” Myles countered. “You can heal all my wounds.”

“Mm, that I can.” You nodded, casting your eyes past the table legs and made out Sy’s outline. “But, that’s about all the energy I’ve got for you. Bringing your sister back to life took a lot out of me. So, I can’t help you fight either of them.”

“That’s fine. I can finish them.”

You reached out and brushed your fingers through his tamed, black curls. “I have all the faith in the world in you, my sweet boy.” You cooed at him, lovingly.

“Moooom!” He groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Time’s wastin’, kid!” Sy called out.

“You stay here, mom. I’m gonna sneak around.” Myles said, wiggling back up the table towards the back entry of the kitchen.

“I’ll be here.” You replied, propping your head up on your hand, eyes drooping for a moment.

At least, you thought it was for a moment, until you felt a pair of strong hands grab your ankles and yanked you out from underneath the table, startling you awake from the nap you dozed into.

“Jesus.”

“Naw, just me, Angel.” Sy grinned, helping you up.

“Where’s Myles?” You asked, rubbing at the sleep in your eyes and noticing he wasn’t in his tactical gear anymore, but just a pair of shorts.

“Out cold in bed.” He answered, steadying you with his hands on your hips.

“But…” You frowned, glancing at the stairs over your shoulder.

“Colt came down not long after Myles tried sneaking around me through the kitchen.” Sy explained to you, a proud little glint in his blue eyes. “Took out both of us, the little rascal.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “We found you asleep and they understood you had a long day, and would spend time with them tomorrow, after they came home from school.”

You pressed your forehead against his chest. “What in the world would I do without you?” You cooed, sighing heavily.

“I don’t know what we would do without you.” He replied, encasing you in his muscular arms and resting his chin on top of your head, rocking gently. “Let’s go to bed, love.” He whispered, scooping you up off your sore feet and carried you upstairs, to bed.

You moaned softly, sinking into the mattress as Sy tossed the blankets over you and kissed your temple, before joining.

#henry cavill #henrycavill #viking-raider fics #Syverson #captain syverson #syverson x reader #syverson fluff #cpt syverson #syverson fanfiction #Austin Syverson #Syverson x You #Syverson Family War #Syverson Family War *fic*#Stay at Home Dad!Sy #Soft!Sy #Nurse!Reader

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fl3shm4id3n · 1 year

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𝓑𝓵𝓾𝓮 𝓢𝓴𝓲𝓮𝓼

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬. 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐧.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɴᴇᴛᴇʏᴀᴍ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ! ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴏɴɢ: ʟᴀɴᴀ ᴅᴇʟ ʀᴇʏ- ᴄɪɴɴᴀᴍᴏɴ ɢɪʀʟ

Tw: Teenage love, mentions of passed bullying, weapon mentioned (spear), mamas just want what’s best for their kids, Tonowari being a loving father, Titanic reference, confession, kissing.

Author’s note: I thought of spicing things up a bit, they will be more conflict later but not too hard because I am rooting for Neteyam and Y/n. Also comment some ideas for the next part, idk how long this series will turn out, but I'd like to see what you guys want to see next. I hope I’m not moving too fast, I just really love where this is going. I also forgot to add the masterlist on the other fics, I’ll be sure to add the link.

P.s. I apologies for late tagging people on my taglist, its my first time doing a taglist and I go back to my other posts and check the comments to see if anyone else would want to be tag. Also for some reason some of the people I tag won’t pop up, sorry :(

Masterlist

Neytiri knew something, she knew that her eldest son had began to catch feelings for someone. The thing is she had no idea who her son was falling head over heels for. She wanted to know who it was and find out fast because the curiosity would consume her, if he ended up lying to her, she would not be happy than she already isn’t. Neytiri was still mad that she had to leave her home, it still irked her that her family will now have to live differently then what they were used to in the forest.

She wanted to keep a close eye on him but she would be invading his privacy, her mate was already hard on their kids, she didn’t want to be that kind of mother, but if it was for the sake of her children, so be it. Neytiri will give Neteyam some space, allowing him to tell her when he is ready.

Even after that talk with her mate, Ronal was still worried, she feared that her child may be taken away from her from an unworthy mate. She wanted her child to be happy but with the right person. It was hard enough that y/n could not mate before eywa light rest of the people due to her being different. Ronal did not like to call her child a human, humans were demons that destroy beautiful things for their own benefit.

Y/n was strong, yes she may not be a na’vi but she is a strong girl who deserves to be a Tsahik in the future, but she knew that the responsibility will lay on Tsireya due to being the oldest. She hopes in finding out who this person was sooner rather than later, before it is to late. Every time Ronal looks at Y/n, she sees her as a baby she once held for the first time, her small body covered in red, her baby. Ronal would do anything in her power to keep her baby happy.

You had finished getting ready for the day, instead of going for swim, you decided to go practice with your spear. You wore a top that was made of rope, seaweed and some pearls that hanged. For the bottom you wore a small skirt around your hips made out of light and dark net, you tide a cloth under you to cover your intimate parts. You tied your hair up to keep it out of the way, when you were using your weapon.

When done you left to the beach, the day had been going smoothly. Some kinds were running around playing in the water, the fishermen had come back from the ocean with fish, everything was normal. You stopped in a small spot that was bit farther away from the beach, it was like a training ground of yours and your father’s. You both would come here to practice on how you could use a spear. On your thirteenth birthday he gifted you the spear he made for you. You loved it very much, you didn’t allow anyone to touch, the people who could touch it was Tsireya, your mother and father. You didn’t trust your brother with your spear, he’d probably break it or something.

You were throwing your spear as hard as you could, you wanted to go farther than you already were. Your father has taught you how to use a spear from a young age, due to it you had got some muscle, you wish you were more muscular like him. Also not to mention what you can do with a blade, when your mother found out that your father gave you a blade at a small age, she nearly popped a blood vessel. Ronal was very protective of you, she feared that anything could harm you due to not being a na’vi. Tonowari had a talk with her about you learning how to fight and such, he knew that one day they will not always be their to protect you, he wanted you to be a warrior and to fend for yourself when they were no longer around.

After what felt like a while, you managed to throw the spear farther away hitting a palm tree near by. You began jumping of joy, you finally manage to do it. “Good shot” you stopped to turn, seeing the oldest forest boy. You felt your face feel a bit warm. “Oh, thank you, I didn’t know you were here” you said as you walked over to the palm tree to get your spear. Neteyam walked closer, just incase you need help with pulling out your spear.

You got a good grip on your spear and pulled hard enough, taking the spear out the palm tree. Neteyam watched as his mouth dropped, you were strong, of course you were, you’re the daughter of the Olo'eyktan. You smiled at him seeing his face. “What?” you giggled which made him change his face real quick. “Oh! Nothing, you’re just... really strong” he said shyly looking away as he rubbed the back of his neck. You smiled at him “well, you can thank my father for that” you said walking back to your spot having him follow. “Would you like to try?” you asked making him nod, no questions asked.

You had been showing Neteyam how hold the spear properly, you didn’t mind having to position his arms the right way, you loved being close to him. Neteyam was trying to do what he was told but he was distracted by you, how close you were. When you’d instruct him how to properly hold it and positioned him, he felt butterflies in his stomach, he also couldn’t help but look at you, you were just so beautiful. “You ready?” You asked as he then snapped out of his trance and nodded. “Okay, now throw it as fast as you can” he did as he was told. The spear landed on the sand, a couple feet away from the palm tree.

“Nice shot, soon you’ll be able to master a spear, you’ll be a...pro?” you said a bit confused, trying to use the word he used the other day. Neteyam chuckled seeing that were tying to use the word. “I’m not as good as you” he mentioned making you smile at up at him. You got a good look at his features again, you loved seeing him, you wouldn’t mind staring into his eyes for the rest of your life.

You then walked over to were your spear was breaking the trance you had on him. “Have you gone to your lessons today?” you asked retrieving your spear. Neteyam shook his head “no, not yet, shall we go?” he asked as you nodded, walking over back to him and leaving together to where the rest of the teens were.

As you both walked towards the small group, you heard a deep voice call out to you. “Y/n” you turned to see who it was, it was your father. “Coming!” You shouted back, turning to look at Neteyam “you go, I’ll catch up.” You said towards the tall na’vi in which he nodded and left towards the group, you walked over to your father, spear in hand “yes father?” you said looking up at the gentle giant. “Come, lets go for a ride, we haven’t gone in a while” you nodded, following him.

You both approached to his skimswim, Tonowari got on first then he helped you hop on, you sat in front of him holding tightly onto your spear and held onto the handle of the saddle. Then you both took off, the ride was silent but you like having a moment like this with your father. He’s a scary looking giant but he was gentle at the same time, you’d referred to him as a gentle giant a couple times since you were smaller. The skimswim dived underwater, taking you both down with it. It made you smile, since that the creature felt playful today. Your father looked down at you smile, making his chest warm up seeing his child happy.

It reminded him when you were a child, the first time you were scared of the creature but you warmed up to it. Since then your father would take you on rides with his creature. When you went back up to the surface for a breath, you laughed “that was fun” you said petting the skimswim, making the creature wag its tale for being praised. Tonowari then asked “so, tell me, what are your thoughts on the Sullys?” he asked as you looked up at him. “They seem very nice, well, Neytiri is a bit scary like mother... don’t tell here I said that!” you playful warned your father making laughing at you. “I won’t” he said. “But, Neteyam, he is really nice to me, well all the sully kids are nice to me including Jake, but he is the sweetest.”

You said feeling your face heat up, your father noticed this, he knew that look very well. He had that same look when he began to catch feelings for his now Mate Ronal. He hummed then talked “y/n? If that boy makes you happy, don’t let him go” he said catching you off guard. “Hm? what do you mean?” you asked a bit confused. “I know that look, you have the same look when someone is interested in another, I was young once too.” Now you understood, he was referring to your feelings towards Neteyam.

“You approve of him?” You asked curiously, he smiled down at you “just a bit, he still has to prove himself though, so far he is doing a great job” he said, this made you happy, seeing that your father seems to be approving of Neteyam. “Thank you father” you said smiling at him, he pulled you into a hug, in which you hugged him back gladly.

Neteyam was wondering where you were, the lesson was over, he was worried that you had got into trouble. Then he saw you with your father on his Skimswim approaching, he saw that you father told you something before you got off and swam towards the group, then he saw your father take off. “We were wondering where you were” your brother said as you finally reached them. “I was with father that’s all” you said.

“Well, the lesson of today is over, so everyone is just going to do whatever” Lo’kak chimed in, giving his brother a look, making Neteyam glare at him. “That’s alright, you guys have a great teacher” you said refuring to your sister. “What about me Y/n?” Ao’nung asked giving you a look, in which you pretended to think for a moment “you’re alright” you said making the group laugh, in which your brother let out a dramatic gasp. “My own sister thinks I am alright? How outrages” he said chuckling.

Everyone swam back to shore, going their separate ways. Only leaving you and Neteyam, it was silent until you spoke “so, do you want to do anything?” You asked looking up at him. You noticed how he had a little smile on his lips “I mean, I did promise you a ride on my banshee” you got excited now “shall we do that?!” You asked, and he responded “if that’s what you want, then yes, lets do it” he said as he took your hand, now taking you were his banshee was.

When you got to where is beast was, you were nervous, you had never seen such a beast. “Don’t look at him in the eyes” Neteyam warmed you, in which you looked away from the beasts face, not looking at its wings. They reminded you of a skimswim but instead of being in the water, they were from the sky. Neteyam got close to his beast, petting him and calming him down. “Want to pet him?” he asked as you nodded, walking closer towards him, he took your small hand and placed it on the beasts head. You softly pet him, feeling him purr under your touch. “Wow” you said fascinated by the beast. “Cool right?” Neteyam asked as you nodded while still petting the beast.

Neteyam got on his banshee and latched into him using his queue, then he turned to you and helped you up onto the banshee. He placed you in front of him and guided your hands to hold into the settle. “Ready?” he asked as you turned to look up at him “I was born ready” you said, Neteyam then gave the cue to his banshee, then the beast took off onto the sky.

You held tightly onto the handle and closed your eyes, afraid that you may end up falling. Neteyam took a note of this, then he wrapped his free arm around your waist and help you tightly close to him. You felt your face heat up at the feeling of his arm. After a couple minutes, you opened your eyes and looked around. Seeing how high you are in the sky, you felt fascinated seeing how close you were towards the clouds and near the blue sky.

When you looked down, you saw how small the village looked smaller, the air felt good going through your hair, it felt as good as when you go swimming. You slowly let go of the handle then stock your arms out on both sides, wanting to feel more of the wind. Neteyam was confused at first but he saw how relaxed you were, he still held onto your waist keeping you safe while his other one held onto the banshee.

You didn’t even notice the time, it was going to be dark soon, the sun was setting. You had landed on a small mountain near the village, seeing the sun set. It was beautiful, even better with the person you were with. “I had fun today” you said looking at Neteyam who had a smile on his face. “I am glad” he said looking down at your small face, he just loved looking at you, he could just stare at you all day, forever if he could. He had a feeling that he needed to say, if he didn’t say it he’ll probably regret it later.

“Y/n, I have been meaning to tell you something” Neteyam said shyly, now your face turned into one of curiosity. “What is Neteyam?” you asked as you felt his lard hands taking yours into his. “For the last few days, I’ve been having feelings, feelings I’ve never felt before, ever.” He took a deep breath, he felt like a fish out of water now, getting nervous. “Whenever I look at you, I feel like, I am at home” he said, his words made your face feel hot. “I see you y/n” he finally said it, he felt the weight on his shoulders fade, but he felt like his stomach drop, fearing rejection by the one who he wishes is his mate.

Your face felt even more heated, he saw you, Neteyam Sully saw you like you saw him. Still a bit in shock at his confession, you broke into a smile. Squeezing his hand lightly and spoke back to him. “And I see you Neteyam, the moment I first set my eyes on you, I see you” you said seeing his face turn into one of relief. “May I...kiss you?” He asked shyly looking down at your small hands. You smiled at his shyness, softly lifting his head “Of course, Ma Neteyam” You said softly locking eyes with his.

Neteyam leaned down, placing both his large hands on your small face. You came closer towards him, closing your eyes, feelings his warm lips touching your cold ones. This felt nice, this felt right, you placed your smaller hands on his large ones that held your face. You stayed like that for a bit before slowly pulling away from him and looked into his sun colored eyes. Then he whispered only for you to hear.

“Ma Y/n”

Taglist: @byunpum, @moony-artemis, @aonungs-tsahik, @rennyramen, @somewereinthegalaxi, @em-asian, @fanboyluvr, @mashiromochi, @eternallyvenus, @teenagemuffinlampcalzone, @ssophiebirkas, @fanficblogs,

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shaunashoochiebae · 24 days

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babysitter!abby headcanons

sidenote: idk where this came from i just wanted to write something for her XD is this even headcanons btw. is this what we call a blurb. LET ME KNOW!

✿ you two had known eachother for EVA!!

✿ okay well not rllly.. you’ve lived in the same city since you were young, taking the same classes etc but you never talked much

✿ you were struck with a pregnancy (sighs) not long after you finished school and ur asshole boyfriend left you when you told him!!! (ass)

✿ abby tried to help you out as much as possible while you were pregnant, and also post pregnancy. always asking you if she needed to grab something for you, trying to take your hand to help you up and down stairs

✿ abby liked you BAD. like unbelievably. so, when she saw ur ad for a babysitter, she took that chance as soon as possible, even if it seemed late

✿ calling your phone number on the bottom of the flyer, her breath wavering slightly as she spoke, “hey! i uh saw your ad for a.. babysitter? i’m free, like next week, i can look after your kid.”

✿ you agreed, naturally and the next week came. coming up to ur house, her head jumbled with anxiety and how to not accidentally kill your child, she greeted you with a smile.

✿ she entered your home, toys and clothes scattered in the living room. “i need to go for an appointment. i should only be a few hours,” you explained. she didn’t care, she just wanted ur attention

✿ you eventually left and that’s when it started. she was super gentle with your kid at first “hey, little man. what’s your name..?” your kid, still not able to form proper sentences just replied with a random mix of letters and abby would pretend to understand, “right! gotcha.”

✿ she’d turn on the t.v, switching to a kids channel playing some random cartoon to keep ur kid occupied for a while.

❀ your kid, being the attention seeker that they are, stumbled over to abby who was sitting on ur couch, scrolling on her phone, and began tugging out of her pant leg.

❀ “what’s up? you hungry?” she’d ask, clueless, having never really speaking to a child like this before

❀ and then. the kid just starts crying. like SOBBIBG. and abby’s panicking and jumping up from the couch, “fuck. uh. are you- okay? should i call your mom? i.. shit.”

❀ trying to calm them down, she grabs them a snack, which keeps them civil for a while before they start to scream and cry again. “jesus christ. how she can deal with you, i’ll never know.” she’d mumble to herself

❀ she’d pick up a teddy bear and pretend that it’s talking, “what’s that, ted? you think they should stop crying? i agree. look kid, your bear said so, i dunno.”

❀ your kid would finally calm down after that, listening to what the teddy bear had to say. they’d sit down on the couch next to abby, their tiny feet dangling off the edge, teddy bear in hand. “i’ll turn back on the cartoons, ‘kay?”

❀ after a while, the child FINALLY falls asleep!!! abby has no idea why to do with them though.. their head falling onto her thigh as they fell alseep, and abby, being the kind natured person she is, would NEVRR wake up a sleeping baby. ever.

❀ you’d arrive back home not long after that and walk into the living room. abby looks up from the t.v, “hey. they fell asleep, i wasn’t sure what to do with ‘em, so.. i just left ‘em there.” she’d say, gesturing to the sleeping child.

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inmoonsblood · 5 months

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nepenthe: (n) "that which chases away sorrow".

pre tlt-tlo. luke castellan x child of a minor god!reader. 700 words, prologue.

synopsis: time keeps slipping away. luke slips along with it. you were never important enough to care, anyway.

warnings: godly parent of the reader isn't mentioned but is specified to be a minor god. mentions of luke and reader making out, reader is said to be the eldest out of their siblings, kind of toxic situationship between luke and reader. minor book spoilers? (I haven't watched the show yet)

note: i'm writing on tumblr after almost a year and a half, this isn't that gooduprwefjod. this is just a brief intro to the possibility of a bigger series under the same reader, kinda? if it does go ahead, it will be based on the books! idk how i feel about it so far, but I'm always open to listening to feedback!

At Camp Half Blood, there remain a few things you cannot learn, no matter the amount of harsh, gruesome training you’ve gone through.

For those who look for it, every day is a new lesson. For example, capture the flag: every game tells you more about your opponents and allies when you know how to look for it. With every game you start to notice how the Area kids undermine the minor gods in cabin eleven, almost forgetting their existence. You notice yourself clubbed with children of another minor god, despite sharing nothing with them, you notice the way Luke’s expression goes blank and tenses up when he notices that.

So you ask him about it late at night, away from the campfire and chaos, bodies pressed together and hips pressed against each other. He replies by biting on your bottom lip, you retaliate by pulling his hair. The next thing you know, you’re pushed up against the wall and a little over half an hour later you walk into an empty cabin eleven with a purple bruise blossoming on your neck and lips swollen red.

A corner on the room’s floor is dedicated to your siblings and yourself. and you wonder how long Luke will keep it reserved for them—for you. You wonder, will the treatment end the moment this . . . affair between you two ends? How will you explain this to your siblings then? When you finally need to deal with the jealousy that comes with being somewhat special to a counsellor.

So you learn to adapt, to take advantage of those who undermine you, and to make allies with those who understand your strength. It’s not hard getting your siblings to listen to you, after all, you are the eldest with two quests weighing down on your conscious daily, but having that achievement means little to nothing when your godly parent isn’t an Olympian.

You sit down in the corner of the room, knees tucked in your chest and you look around. You have three siblings on your godly side, a diary hidden under Luke’s (because no one would respect your privacy, yet they wouldn’t dare breathe in Luke’s way like that) pillow containing their names, mortal addresses, mortal family’s numbers and blood types noted down. You wonder if Camp Half Blood would have a proper funeral if any of you—not just your siblings, any of the children of the minor gods—died. Would there be a grieving period? Would someone look for you? Would they even call the families you’ve left in the mortal world or would those who care wonder what happened to you all?

No minor god is as important as Olympians and as much as no one says it, you can feel it—you all can feel it.

A child of Nike can win better than a child of Ares, no one gives them the credit of winning, though, it’s always beginner's luck. Camp survives on the magic and mist of Hecate and yet no one, *not one person* appreciates any of her children. Iris is responsible for most, if not all, of the communication at camp and yet no one includes her children in any conversation. Tyche and Hebe’s children are almost as joyful as the Apollo and Aphrodite campers, yet no one smiles or dances with them. The goddess of luck’s children have none here. Nemesis cradles her children, promising justice and vengeance, and Hypnos lulls his kids to sleep, ensuring no nightmares whilst they sleep, unable to do anything to the bullying when they’re up.

Your parent is amongst these minor gods, and whilst they do care slightly more than Olympians do for their kids, you cannot help but be angry. Anger that you know will be spent on the Hermes counsellor, pushing him till he pushes you back, till you’re both breathing heavily into each other’s mouths and till your nails scratch red lines down his back, after all, it’s what you two do to each other.

No conversation, no understanding, no labels. You two are just two teenagers angry at the world for taking their parents away. Nothing else to each other, right?

#( ✸ ) half divinity #( ✸ ) pari's works #( ✸ ) not a request #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader

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tteokdoroki · 1 year

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𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — first loves + bkg.

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — fluff + sfw, fem + black-coded!reader, post war, implied bnha spoilers, hints of ptsd/panic attacks, first loves, loverboy bkg, idk what this is guys they’re just kids in love and i wrote this listening to the new(ish) 5sos album bye.

they say you never really get over your first love, katsuki bakugou can attest to that.

in the summer after his eighteen birthday, his parents take him on one last family vacation before he breaks into the hero industry. they go abroad, somewhere far away from the trail of heartbreak left in japan— it’d been a hard year. he’d lost a lot. bakugou’s vision shakes a little in his grey-pinkish eye, his skin is bumpy with scars over his eyes and under his shirts. he’s a little more afraid to go in public in fear of being recognised.

so, katsuki takes that venture abroad. where no one knows who he is and what he’s been through.

katsuki’s parents like to explore, they drag him under a sun that’s a little foreign and not like japan’s across a strange city to try new foods that expand his horizons and makes his tastebuds a little happier. they force him to take photos in front of old bridges and historic monuments— though his dad snaps a nice one of bakugou walking through the bustling streets, a backwards baseball cap resting on his nest of hair.

on the last night, they have dinner at a beachside restaurant— bakugou excuses himself when the noises get a little too much and remind him of a time where nearly he lost his life. he stumbles out, down the steps and along the vast stretch of sand looking for the space to breathe along the waterfront. waves crash hard against the shore like the anxiety attacking his brain and katsuki has to crouch down to get a hold of himself before the world tilts too far and he falls off the invisible edge.

“are you okay?”

when he looks up, red eyes narrowly avoiding the glare of the sunset— he sees a girl. her skin looks like it’s been kissed by the solar system, beautiful brown tone glowing under the golden night— accompanied brown doe eyes boring deep into his own, reading his soul as if it were only made up of the constellations beginning to dot themselves in the sky. she has these braids he’s never quite seen before but they frame the roundness of her cheeks perfectly and…he’s never felt love before, aside from the kind you have for friends and family and bakugou doesn’t believe in fate. everything happening for a reason and shit.

because that would mean what happened to him…well, it would mean he deserved it.

but in this moment, the moment this girl offers him her hand and crouches down to see if he’s okay. he feels it. love, filling the blood that pumps through his beating heart. slowly, tenderly, his calloused and marred hand takes her own— the girl making a small noise of content as they sit together, bottoms wet from the sand.

they stay there, together for a while. katsuki and this strange girl he’s only just met— listening to the seagulls call for one another just metres above their heads accompanied by the waves that roll along the shoreline as if they were made to be together. it calms him down, and sure enough bakugou’s chest stops it’s heaving and the scary noises in his head back off for the minute. his mother screams his name in the distance and the girl looks over the blonde’s shoulder with her lips in a pout and brows furrowed— quizzical as if she’s putting together pieces of a puzzle.

“oh, you probably didn’t understand me earlier, right?” she speaks suddenly yet hesitantly, her voice filling his ears like cotton, in broken japanese instead of the fluent english from earlier. “a-are you okay?”

bakugou hums shyly, cheeks flashing red. “‘m fine now. couldn’t breathe before.”

“i’m glad—“ she starts to reply but bakugou’s mother has always been persistent and irritating especially at the worst times— yelling his name again. the pair’s shoulders rise like cats on the prowl and the girl let’s out the cutest laugh he’s ever heard in his life. “i think your mum’s calling, katsuki.”

“s-shut up!” bakugou scrambles to his feet just as the girl does, brushing the sand from her warm skin.

“you should go! i’ll see you around, kay?”

she’s gone before he can even blink, as if she were never there. the only way he truly knows that the girl was real is all thanks to his mother— mitsuki pestering him with questions about the girl all the way back to the restaurant. who was she? did you know her? are you okay? they all go through one ear and come out of the other. all bakugou can think about from then is how she thought she would see him again.

which wouldn’t happen, since he was leaving tomorrow.

for the next ten years, memories of the girl with honeyed brown skin and darling chocolate eyes haunt katsuki’s every waking moment. he tried everything in his power to forget her, his first love— even if they moments they shared together were brief, they’re all he thinks about when the world gets a little too ugly and a little too heavy to sit on his shoulders.

no one had ever been that gentle with him, treated him so kindly at first sight— after seeing all of him, scarred and all. no one has ever compared to her since.

that is until the warm tones of your voice echo through the dynamight agency one day— your japanese a little stronger than it was almost a decade ago when it changed the trajectory of katsuki bakugou’s life.

“h-hi, i’m here for the assistant role for um…dynamight?” you say, still shy and hesitant, still quiet and cute.

and only the heavens know how thankful katsuki is for not forgetting his first love— for remembering the way you talk, the way your eyes shimmer as he rounds the corner and reveals himself to you. taller than you remember, older and wiser than in your head— but still your first love too.

“you’re okay!” you squeak upon his reveal, clutching your bag in one shaky hand— voice wobbling as if you’d been worried about bakugou this entire time.

the blonde nods simply, trying to remember what it was he said to you all those years ago when you’d first asked him that.

“‘m fine, feel like i can breathe again.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabbles #bakugou imagine #bakugo x reader #bakugou x black reader #bakugou fics #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted #IDK WHAT THIS IS #was inspired by the new 5sos album lol

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not-alien-girl-v · 1 year

Note

need more 1975 stuff 😭

Long Way Home (Matty Healy)

warning: tw matty healy, road head but not what you think mentions of drinking, probably various horrific grammar mistakes i don’t edit my writing

note: i’m here i’m alive i am writing this after getting back from the gym and in half an hour i will be going for a walk. miss you all wish i was more productive and could write more so you all could talk to me more (i’m a whore for attention). i have a huge crush on a guy i met once and idk what to do about it. anyways enough about me

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

“i kinda have to pee,” she shifts in her seat, trying not to feel like a child next to him. it’s easy to.

“can you wait till we get home? i don’t want to have to take a shortcut,” his tone is mildly annoyed, perhaps irritated, but in a loving, fond, ‘i spend so much time with you i’m allowed to be sick of all your complaining’ kind of way. it always comes from a place of love with him, even when he doesn’t mean for it to.

“i’ll be fine, i guess. but distract me. please?”

he sighs out of the corner of his mouth, a stray curl flying off the side of his face. it’s slightly outgrown, his hair, and he’s put it up in a man-bun, as she refuses to call it anything but a man-bun, since that’s what it is. either way, the front pieces are falling out and it’s tied up in the back, giving his neck space.

the sun set a few hours ago, and the sky, once golden orange and red from the dear departure of the star has long since forgotten what daylight felt like, and the moon is the new light shining on city below, like a star would.

he grips the steering wheel. he pulls it left, turning onto a new street, a less busy stretch then the one they previously drove down. he speeds up.

“what do you want to talk about?” he sounds smooth, if that’s a way one could sound, or maybe it’s just in her imagination, but his voice sounds like it’s made for this, this exact moment. maybe not the ‘having to pee’ part, no, but the moon, the street, the city.

he’s lost, not figuratively, but literally. he doesn’t know what street he turned onto but it’s not one in his mental map of this city, but he doesn’t share this with her.

“i don’t know. anything. just say stuff to me. i like the sound of your voice.”

she wonders if his internal dialogue is anything similar to hers, if he thinks in the same dialect that she does, if he wonders about how easily the sky forgets the sun each night, how warm the welcoming embrace is every morning when it returns from rest.

she’s sure, however, that his thoughts probably don’t include anything about how good he looks in a t-shirt. it’s the most simple item of clothing a man can own, aside from maybe a pair of blue jeans, yet she looks at him wearing it, the way he wears it, shirt sleeves folded at his biceps, the way the fabric crinkles and folds itself at the bottom, resting on him perfectly like it was set out with perfect care, like he wants her to look at him like she wants to eat him alive.

maybe he does, maybe he does all of this on purpose, maybe he’s more than just a stupid, stupid boy and he knows much more than any boy should about what a girl thinks, maybe he’s practically a girl inside his own head.

maybe he doesn’t even do it for her, maybe he does it for himself, he always does say he’s sexually attracted to himself, maybe he dresses so carefully in order to satisfy his desire to be attractive in his own opinion.

“matty?”

“hm? oh, right, i was supposed to distract you. um, road head?”

she shoots him a glare so hard, laser beams shoot from her eyes, instantly vaporizing him in his spot, or at least that’s what it must feel like.

“kidding, i’m kidding, love.”

“you better be. i did that once, and never again will i. lucky we didn’t get pulled over.”

“you gave road head?”

she scoffs, “don’t sound so surprised.”

“with who?”

“well, it was before i met you- well, actually, it was after we met, but we weren’t together yet, you were just that guy from that gay band at this point. anyway, remember two years ago, that guy owen? yeah, him.”

“oh, fucking owen. of course it was fucking owen,” he whines.

“yep. fucking owen. so he had this old ass car. it was really pretty, maybe if i actually cared about the car i’d be able to remember what kind it was or whatever. it was red, if that matters.”

“it doesn’t. get to the good part.”

“whatever. so we were going down the interstate, right, because why fucking not? and there was some imagine dragons song playing because it was fucking owen, and he turns to me and he’s all like, ‘babe i’m so fucking horny right now.’”

she feels a pride in her storytelling skills when he giggles at it.

“so i look down and you know, he wasn’t kidding. so he basically begs me to give him road head, right-“

“red flag. leave him,” he interrupts.

“i did. so i start going, doing my thing when he starts doing that thing where he pushes the back of my head down. and he’s getting rough, like he’s getting into it, and i just wasn’t prepared for it so i gag a little bit but i’m fine so i keep going but so does he. he’s got a hard grip on my hair and it hurts like a mother fucker but i’m just like ‘whatever it’s fine,’ then all of the sudden-“

“you puked on him?”

“i puked on him.”

he gasps, dramatically, in a fit of giggles, slapping his knee like it’s just the silliest thing he’s heard all day.

“ok, ok, i’m not done though. there’s more.”

“there’s more?”

“there’s more. so obviously he was fucking pissed, right. so pissed that he dumps me! figuratively and literally dumps me on the side of the road, and we had pulled off the interstate at this point, you know, not just on the side of the freeway, but still, it’s like 3am and i’m alone, in a small pool of my own vomit, my hairs a mess and i’m a mess too.”

“wait, this sounds familiar.”

“it should. so get this, i don’t know what to do, if i called my parents i’d never hear the fucking end of it, if i called my sister, she’d laugh so hard over the phone she’d hang up. so you know who the first person i called was?”

“it was me. i remember.”

“yeah, it was you. and you came in like 5 minutes, you were there and you took me to your place, and that was the first time i had ever been to your apartment, poor george was so confused why you left so suddenly in the middle of the night only to come home with a seriously disheveled looking girl,” she recalls.

he adds on, “he hadn’t even met you yet, had he? so you were just a stranger at that point. and i gave you a change of clothes and we played a billion games of mario kart on the xbox until you fell asleep on me.”

“we were both pretty drunk at that point, keep in mind, me more than you because i pregamed in owen’s car.”

he nods and continues his side of the story, “and you probably don’t know what happened after that, do you?” she shakes her head, wondering what part of the narrative she’s been unaware of for so long.

“alright, so i was pretty wasted too, and i wanted to be all gentlemanly and carry you to bed while you slept. i had a huge crush on you at this point, but i’m sure you kind of knew.”

“i didn’t! i didn’t know at all, that’s why i called you, like, if i’m drunk and alone, no offense but i probably wouldn’t have called someone i thought had a thing for me.”

“i understand, but you know i would never do that. anyways, so i’m up off the couch and i’m trying to pick you up bridal style, is that what that’s called? i don’t know. so i’m going to lift you and i can’t fucking do it, i almost drop you every time and i’m trying so hard, i really wanted to be a gentleman for you.”

“that was when you were in your small era, i remember.”

“hey, don’t call it a ‘small era’, that’s stupid, i was just skinny and i hardly went to the gym. also did a lot of drugs at the time, but that’s beside the point, the point is: i couldn’t lift you.”

she’s on the edge of her seat, the urge of having to pee completely off her mind by now. “so what did you do?”

“i- i fuckin made george do it. and he was so pressed, not at you, at me, because he had already gone to bed at that point but i insisted on it, so i made him get up, do this manual labor for free, taking you to my bed and all, then we both shared a smoke out on the fire escape outside my bedroom.”

“you’re right, i had no idea, i assumed you did it. it was actually one of the reasons i was so smitten with you so quickly, because even as friends, you did so many little things like that, things you didn’t have to do. it’s how i fell in love with you.”

“well, how do you feel now, knowing that it was george the whole time?”

“hmm, i guess i have to dump you, get with george now, since he’s been doing the heavy lifting since day one apparently,” they both burst into heavy laughter, tears beading at the corners of their eyes, and before they know it, matty’s taken a thousand turns away from the direction of their shared apartment, but with her, getting lost isn’t all that bad.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

taglist: @indierockgirrl @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @milkluvr8 @americanangel

#the 1975 fluff #the 1975 #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fic #the 1975 fanfiction #matty the 1975 #matty healy #ratty matty #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #george daniel #adam hann #ross macdonald

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luveline · 2 years

Note

idk if you've done anything like this but maybe a rockstar!james where he introduces his relationship to the world/his fans ?

this was SO FUN tysm for your request! ♥ fem!reader | 1.1k words

James had asked specifically before he did what he did if it was okay. You love him and think it's sweet that he wants to, so you tell him to make sure he uses a good picture.

Some huge magazine had asked him to do a video for their website. You know vaguely when it gets uploaded because suddenly friends and even acquaintances are texting you repetitively. It's not long after that when The Marauders superfans start requesting to follow your twitter account. You'd set it to private beforehand, though there was nothing of interest there anyways, only retweets and Spotify links. You're glad you did when the notifications start and don't stop.

You turn off your phone and open up your laptop, navigating to the magazine's website, where the front page boasts your pretty boyfriend's face right at the top. You click the video link and wait for it to load, heartbeat as quick as a mouse's.

The introduction is quick. James sits behind a white table wearing a black, nondescript short-sleeved t-shirt. His fancy watch catches the light as he leans forward. "Hey, I'm James Potter from the rock band The Marauders, and today I'll be showing you guys what's in my bag."

He picks up a much cleaner version of his rucksack, new for the shoot. His actual rucksack sits at the bottom of your bed. You move your socked feet out of the way so you can compare it to the fraud on screen. It'll be fun to poke fun at him tonight over his lies.

There's not a lot of guidance to the video. He takes things out one at a time and gives some story behind them. There's a battered pair of drumsticks and a cleaner pair swiftly follows. James goes through them quickly, so a spare is always a good idea. The drumsticks are followed by a piece of drum gum in a plastic case, and a wrist brace for his dicky left arm.

He pulls out his chapstick with a subtle smirk.

"And my book," he says, pulling out a messed up paperback. You roll your eyes when you see it because it's not his book at all, it's yours, and he's wrecked it completely.

A bookmark sticks out about halfway through. "I got this recommended to me by a very pretty girl. Beautiful women seem to always have the best taste in books. I don't have to tell you guys," he says with a wink. He puts the book with everything else he's unveiled so far. "And it's a damn good book."

You flush warm with pleasure.

He pulls out some amazingly expensive headphones, an adapter for his electric drum kit, a different pair of noise cancelling headphones, his custom earplugs, his phone charger – again, new for the shoot – and a familiar notebook.

"This is for everything." He pulls it open to a random page and broadcasts what's clearly not his own handwriting. "I hate transcribing. Remus has done it for me here," he confides. "You have to love him."

You can imagine the twitter uproar as fans sing the band's bassist's praises. You do have to love Remus, he's an angel, and you'll have to have a word with James about taking advantage of his friend's kindness.

He turns it to another page. There's a sketch there of a tree you don't really recognise. James draws a lot, more than you could ever keep track of. He's even painted you a landscape or two in heavy gauche before, gifts with awfully sweet dedications on the back.

He's very good. "For sketching and things. This was a sycamore outside of the Point House arena. It had those helicopter seeds falling from it. You remember when you'd pick those up as a kid and throw them back up into the air?"

The camera person says something and James nods passionately. "Right, we'd have races too! Simpler times."

It cuts to James pulling out his wallet and his phone. They ask to see his phone wallpaper and he obliges. It's a photo of him and Sirius as kids. They could only be thirteen or fourteen in the photograph, but already Sirius holds his wicked charm like a knife, a sharp smile and a sharper gaze, though his arm around James shoulder is languidly placed.

"Yep, he's always been like that."

And finally, his wallet. It's nothing fancy. You can't afford anything as quality as he could himself but he hasn't tried to replace it since you bought it. He peels it open and makes a joke about nobody stealing his identity.

He smiles wide. "Here's the most important thing in my bag. No, not my card."

He pulls a piece of white paper from the fold between deft fingers and then turns it to reveal you, a photo of you.

You'll admit you look pretty. There's nothing fanciful to it, just you giving him a soft smile with your hair done up, your head tilting ever so slightly toward your lifted shoulder.

"This is my girl." He pulls your photo toward him and looks down over the top, no bravado, no charming comment. He smiles at you. "Doesn't she look nice here?"

The camera person says something again. James looks up, waiting for them to finish before he grins.

"Yeah, this is my girlfriend. Y/N."

There's subtitles for the camera person's next question. "This is the first time you've talked about having a partner publicly. Why now?"

The truth is just the unfortunate consequence of fame. Smear campaigns, hatemail, paparazzi, invasions of privacy. But you can't hide forever. And it feels nice – feels incredible, like your cheeks might bruise from the ache of your smile – to be shown off.

"'Cos I wanna take her on vacation for our six months, and I want the first photo people see of her to be this one, rather than her drooling on my arm in the airport."

You laugh.

"Six months, you've been together?" the camera person asks.

"And counting. Best six months of my life."

The interview moves on. There's a few layover shots of the bag's contents. You can't help but feel embarrassed at your face on a clear display next to his wallet, though a binging notification catches your attention before you can pick it apart.

You click on the notification, an email. It opens, James' voice in the background talking about the new album.

It's unsurprisingly from loverboy himself.

Answer your phone!!!!! sent from my iPhone.

You email him back. I've had to turn it off.

Oh fuck. Are you okay?

You pull the email tab to the side and watch James smile and say goodbye to everyone watching.

Yeah, I'm perfect. Facetime me?

On you like a rash.

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #marauders era #marauders #james potter blurb #james potter imagine #james potter drabble #james potter dialogue #james potter #james potter x fem!reader #fem!reader #drummer!james #rockstar!au #rockstar!james potter

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jack-kellys · 3 days

Note

hiya fizz!! can I request davey + forgetting to eat for the bad things happen bingo? idk it just feels so Him yk

bonus points if there's javey involved asw (maybe with the anger born of worry trope idk)

tyy :))

hey theeere kit of course! one box per fic, though, making it harder for myself >:)

ao3 series here, and request a trope from these here!

The chillier breezes and shifting leaves of autumn came quicker than David could have planned. Not like he can plan seasons, of course, but he hadn’t had time to factor in what autumn meant to his, shall he say.. outside responsibilities.

School, for one, had picked up once September finished- assignments were piling enough and David left home that morning with Les with arithmetic still to complete. It occupied his lunch period, pencil messily scratching across the page to finish it before his next class.

And after school he’s at the circulation gate, waiting for the evening edition with a couple of the boys. Sometimes Sarah accompanies him when she can get out of the house, and especially since their folks don’t permit Les to sell anymore (much to the now ten-year-old’s chagrin), but today isn’t one of those days. It’s solely David, tapping his foot.

“He’s late,” he mutters out, not to anyone in particular.

“Who, Jack?” Racer asks, perking up. That’s true, but not what David meant.

“Wiesel,” David sighs. “Folks are expecting us on the streets in only a few minutes, right?”

“Cool it,” Racer chuckles. “Ain’t a thing. We got better things to be pissed at him about.”

“I’m not- pissed,” David frowns, shoulders bunching a little. He stops tapping his foot. Race gives him an exaggerated nod, eyes widened, and David rolls his own. Finally the gate opens and when David turns away from the window with his fifty papers in hand, Jack appears in front of him with some kind of smile on his face.

“You’re also late,” David says, and Jack only smiles wider. “You selling?”

“Ain’t I always,” Jack smirks, patting his bag- less than his usual, David thinks. “I got a request.”

David’s lips quirk, following Jack when he begins to walk them away from the circulation center. “What kind, exactly?”

“A good one, promise,” Jack replies, setting his hand on Davey’s shoulder, likely to steer him toward whatever odd adventure Jack’s planned. “It’s startin’ to get colder, you know, and Klopp can only buy so much for us. It’s up to us older fellas to pick up the slack. New socks, new gloves, extra fabric to stuff clothes with.”

That’s reasonable in terms of necessity, but not in the way that matters most. David turns his head toward Jack. “How did you get the money for that?”

Jack smiles again, wide, eyes narrowed in amusement or pride.

“Easy,” he states. “I didn’t. Now c’mon.”

For all of the legends and stories David has heard, he’s never seen Jack’s thieving skills in action. There are lots of things he’s swiped over the years, apparently, that simply hadn’t made it to his rap sheet- and most were far more impressive than food and clothing. So while David doesn’t exactly like it, he makes conversation with a shop clerk while Jack slithers into the store behind him. The bottom line is that they can’t afford it, and the kids at the lodge need it, and that has to outweigh the moral consequences of it all.

David’s normally a talkative person. Not a good talker, maybe–definitely a better one now–but he can keep going, and going. He’s leaning on the counter, having linked his english class to the price of wool going up somehow, and he feels his brain start to…slide, almost. It feels distracted, but not by anything he can tell, and his gaze falls to the counter as it does. Maybe he’s just tired, but he has to keep talking so Jack can get–

“Hey. Hey. Kid, you alright?”

David’s head snaps up with a quick inhale at the clerk’s voice, blinking a few times to sort out his vision. He’d been really intent on that counter.

“Uh, yes, yeah,” he nods quickly. “Just fine, ah- sorry, what was I talking about..?”

“You ain’t been talking for nearly a minute,” the clerk replies, “what- HEY!”

That can only mean one thing. David can hear the door open, and before it can close, he’s running outside.

“Thought you said you were good at this!” David yells, catching up to Jack. His paper bag is filled, and his shirt must be stuffed- he’s gripping his sleeves like random objects might start pooling out from them.

“I am when my partner ain’t suddenly go dead silent!” Jack retorts, glancing behind them. He picks up his pace, and painstakingly, David does the same, a pit forming in his stomach.

His expression slackens. More than a pit- something like a hurricane, swirling his insides in circles, over and over.

“Jack,” he tries, but his voice doesn’t carry this time. He’s way more out of breath than he should be. “Jack. We need to- I need to stop.”

His partner’s head swivels at that, expression incredulous. “Dave, we-”

Jack blinks, eyes widening suddenly, and he nods vigorously. Ask and David shall receive, apparently…

In a moment, Jack’s hands are on him, as if he knew David was inches from stumbling. He practically shoves David into an alley, the change in direction jostling his brain. His legs are keeping up, but his brain can’t seem to, and every time he blinks they’re an extra five feet ahead of where they only just were.

Finally, Jack stops, and so does David, breathing hard. Spots are entering his vision, and he tries to blink them away, grabbing onto a railing at the bottom of a fire escape to steady himself.

“Shit, Dee,” he hears Jack hiss, and his fingers fall away from the railing as he’s guided and then sat against the wall. In front of him are Jack’s big, blurred, midnight-dark eyes, his eyebrows creased with concern. Light dapples parts of his face from above, landing on his pink-brown cheeks. He must’ve set David under the stairs. “Davey- Davey, hey, what’s goin’ on? What happened?”

Jack pats his cheek suddenly as he speaks, jerking David back to an attention he hadn’t realized he’d left.

“I just… can’t. Run. Ri’now,” David supplies, blinking at the other.

“Yeah I got that,” Jack almost chuckles, gaze still filled with worry His hand finds David’s forehead. “Are you sick?”

David shakes his head slowly, leaning into Jack’s palm. “Had to do math, during lunch.”

This somehow confounds Jack more, eyebrows scrunching, before he nods.

“Davey,” Jack sighs. “You gotta eat during lunch, okay? Gotta do that, or you’re gonna black out mid-sprint.”

“I blacked out after,” David corrects. The corrects again- “I didn’t black out.”

Jack nods in what David assumes is mock-understanding, before the boy shifts closer, pressing a quick kiss to David’s temple. Then he leans back, sitting on his knees and watching David for a moment. He can feel himself smile slightly, and Jack mirrors it meltily, before David snorts as the other tries to quickly wipe it off his face.

“Stay there,” Jack orders, standing himself up. “I’m gonna go grab you somethin’, alright? Then we’ll head back.”

David nods, leaning his head back against the brick behind him and resting his eyes. There’s no movement in front of him.

“Stop staring and get me some food, Kelly,” he hums.

“I–” Jack huffs. There’s a pause. “On it.”

#anyway!! hope u enjoy !!#newsies #davey jacobs #david jacobs #newsies fanfic #jack kelly #fizz writes #fizz answers #javey #javid #newsies fic #newsies the musical #rizz does bthb!#i like that it kept my indentations…. tab key my beloved #jk i hopped on desktop and theyre gone

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fushigidane · 4 months

Text

Personal skills for the awakening kids

i wish awakening had personal skills SO BAD it's not even funny.

anyway. i thought up some personal skills for the 2nd gen. these are all made within the context of 3h as that's the au that's been swimming about in my head for several weeks hence any reference to those mechanics but pls enjoy :) :)

lucina

gee, lucina, how come mum lets YOU bring the overpowered game mechanic to other games--

basically just the engage chain attack feature as lucina there is The Chain Attack Emblem. killassisting killstealing left and right. would serve really well with 3h's love of chunky hp monsters. the weapon durability aspect is kind of incentive to always have her equip falchion (3h regalia should NOT have limited durability and in THIS essay i will--) or a forged training weapon as the damage is fixed.

this probably could transfer to fateswakening where this would proc on top of normal dual strikes, but another option i thought up for her would be the ability to dual strike for anyone as long as the targeted enemy is within her movement range (i.e. she can dual strike without being adjacent to an ally)

owain

i wanted to make the fateswakening trio's skills distinct from their fates counterparts... though i wouldn't be able to use aching blood in a 3h setting anyway as it has no weapon naming feature. truly tragic.

this is probably self-explanatory: owain does extra damage when using any attack that has a name bc He Gets Excited. it would apply to each individual strike rather than the total damage number, and part of me wonders if this would make 3h-astra actually viable.

also, rip to like half the crests in 3h which have this exact effect but separate and worse since they're a non-guaranteed proc. we honour your sacrifice so owain could rise

inigo

3h's authority makes rally skills pretty easy to get, but the fact they only affect one unit means i barely use them and it makes me sad. inigo deserves his funky little rallies and he will GET his funky little rallies.

this skill would also apply to the stat boost from special dance (though not the dance effect itself).

not much else to say. i just think this skill is neat

brady

this is basically the skill stealth, which is otherwise exclusive to the thief/assassin/trickster classes in 3h. it puts the unit at the bottom of the priority list for enemy attacks so they will only be attacked if there are NO other viable targets.

great for a healing brady. i always put him in a support role so this is perfect for me. less great if you want brady to be a combatant as it limits what you can do on enemy phase, but you could still use it to your advantage

i just have this image of enemies seeing a healer on the battlefield, going to attack them, and then being hit by this Stare of Promised Violence that makes them back off and decide to attack,, idk. fucking dedue instead. and brady is sitting here confused bc he didn't do anything (it's just his normal face)

kjelle

She Will Not Be Knocked Over. armour too strong. 10/10. truly a GET DOWN MR PRESIDENT skill of all time, as she has earned

this skill means she takes the damage but doesn't get movement sealed or debuffed or anything after being hit by a gambit. Not Even The Force Of Ten Dozen Men Charging Will Faze You.

a fateswakening equivalent i considered would be preventing specifically armour-effective damage i.e. from hammers or armourslayers, so they just deal normal damage instead (or, in fates' case, the weapons get hit with the non-effective target debuff).

cynthia

basically a stronger but more situational variant of elise's and flayn's lily's poise. all about protecting the vulnerable, plays into her more sensible (read: comparative to owain) idea of heroism.

i personally like this a lot bc i always always go falcon knight cynthia (it feels better) and cynthia with a healer flavour... mwah.

i'm generally a massive fan of aura skills (i.e. buffs to allies within a certain range of a unit) and this is the type of skill that could definitely save your units after an unfortunate mistake

severa

THE COUNTERPART TO BERUKA'S PERSONAL THAT SELENA SHOULD HAVE HAD. NO I WILL NOT TAKE CRITICISM they did her SOOO dirty with her fates personal--

aside from being perfect personality-wise (she WILL prove she is better than others--), this also syncs well with most classes severa will find herself in. swords are pretty much wholly 1-range weapons, so are usually facing a counterattack, except the levin sword...but nobody is rushing to give her that. (she has a 10% MAG growth in awakening, which is quite literally the lowest available...)

i wanted to name this competitive but apparently that's takumi's personal skill name. so rude of him

gerome

local teenager fixates on dragons, more at 6

he's studied dragons + minervikins so hard he knows how to fight beside them in a way that lets them fight to the fullest. also he gets so secretly happy (and it is secret do not tell a soul) to be next to a dragon that he too fights better.

this would apply equally to wyvern units and units that are dragons in non-dragon classes e.g. a mage nah.

gerome <3

yarne

the original name of this skill was sudden brevity until i realised brevity does not mean what i clearly thought it did when i wrote it.

an improved version of strong riposte from fates. poor yarne spends so much time wanting to hide on player phase that any damage he is directed to deal is only mediocre, but when enemies attack HIM on ENEMY phase, he's like oh shit gotta survive--

DONT MESS WITH A BUNNY indeed :)

laurent

3h's limits on spell learning means this basically has a cap of +10 in the late game, but even that is still mega broken. this skill would serve as a really strong incentive to train his reason/faith in the early game and the extra power you get from learning spells would scale well as you progress further.

now that the meta is out the way, this skill is like when a character (not necessarily a fe one) gets a new skill in a game and there's this super exaggerated powerup sound effect and a victory quote, and you're just like... 'all you learned was how to wear heavier armour' but with THIS skill it's actually VALID

knowledge = power and also justification for laurent joining the cast of fodlan characters found near exclusively in the library

noire

it's a little criminal that awakening wasn't able to give us something that reflects noire's blood and thunder state in combat aside from her crit quotes, so this is what i came up with.

the more she fights, the more BLOOD AND THUNDER she gets.

it makes the most sense that her offense would be the one boosted, and even though she's an archer she can fill a good role as a mixed attacker (i WISH awakening had a shining bow), hence STR/MAG being boosted. i briefly considered SPD, but noire has one of the best base speed growths in the game anyway (before growth inheritance; she's on par with lon'qu and a speed-boon robin, and weirdly only beat out by PANNE with 55 base speed for some reason) so it'd be a little redundant when she already doubles everything

nah

this is based off that odd quirk of nah's where she always forgets she can turn into a dragon. i think of her support with f!morgan all the time, where she spends ages trying to learn how to catch a wyrmslayer and in the end realises it was a wasted effort bc she doesn't even fight in her human form and her dragon arms are too small to do what she learned.

"until engaging in combat" applies to combat initiated with nah on either player OR enemy phase. you'd have to have her avoid combat completely for this skill to build up. it would apply to offensive non-damaging magic e.g. silence, but wouldn't apply to healing, so nah could spend her time doing that.

this is a skill you need to dedicate yourself to using yourself, but in the hypothetical scenario where she's a boss, this skill is absolutely terrifying. especially if you took all the limiters off. it would actually make for a very fun map i think--the best fe maps are those that make you go on the offensive IMO, but that's not exactly what this post is about, so i'll move on.

f!morgan

i've made separate skills for the morgans because their supports are different enough that they feel like different characters to me, even if just slightly. it's why i always like them as twins.

what i wanted with the morgans is a skill that hints at what they were before losing their memory and joining the shepherds. for this one, though she is a wyvern lord in future past 2 she is a malig knight in my heart. they just hadn't yet invented malig knights when they made her. this skill is based on its lvl15 skill, savage blow. (to be clear, the 5 extra damage would also apply after combat).

this is a fun one that's good for crowd control and mopping up large groups of enemies, especially with the existence of 3h canto where you can just swoop out of enemy range after obliterating their movement.

it's a very fitting skill if you have morgan in, say, a wyvern class or even dark flier. but if you put her in a dainty little base pegasus knight class... the image of a fragile little pegasus that will fall to like two axes hunting people down is kind of hilarious. sorry morgy

m!morgan

last but not least, the son himself... likewise to f!morgan, i wanted this skill to reflect who he was before the shepherds. he's a sorcerer in the future past 1, which is why i wanted this skill to be dark magic based. both morgans having skills that debuff enemies is another intentional choice.

it's loosely based upon the -taker skills. this skill isn't as powerful as them (you get less stat per proc and the cap is smaller) but you can gain the boosts without delivering the killing blow and you have more variety in what boosts you can get. morgan tends to be a jack-of-all-trades like robin, so an all-round boost is good for him.

past morgan was probably pretty scary with this, but present morgan without a hint of memory now just goes around Yoinking enemy stats. Morgan Says Teehee Mine Now. as he should :)

#p.s. i'm in the market for better names for some of these skills (mostly luci/inigo/m!morgan's) so if you have suggestions... hmu #fe13 #fire emblem #fire emblem awakening #fe awakening #fe lucina #fe morgan #fe owain #fe inigo #fe brady #fe kjelle #fe cynthia #fe severa #fe gerome #fe yarne #fe laurent #fe noire #fe nah #awakening kids ever beloved sons and daughters always

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localbionerd · 11 months

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my human vers of the ghost cousins and shyren!

you can expect more of them,,, especially MTT i draw him a lot

here's the concept art for each of them btw. i dont really have a singular colored concept sketch for MTT, when i made him i made an entire page (and its kind of old, sorry) so i added notes to (hopefully) make it easier to navigate??

Text:

Napstablook: "tears falling down at the party, saddest little baby in the room" (lyrics from Oh Klahoma)

Mew Mew: "Quick notes: ~6'7, mid 20s, sapphic, MTF(she/her, transfem), cat lover, always arguing with MTT" "Alt outfit? Maybe idk"

Shyren: Height is probably 5'1-5'4 (smol), doesn't speak much (often communicating nonverbally thru sign language and gestures), sings but has stage fright, she's a scene kid! (loves alt fashion)

Mettaton:

"Quick notes: 6'5 (+ heels), FTM(he/him), mid 20's, actor + singer, theare nerd! loves old timey musicals" (underneath outfit w yellow shirt says "main outfit!")

Upper right text bubbles (right to left): "M-Mettaton, you've been in there for t-two hours... hurry up, we're g-g-going to be late!" "You can't rush perfection, Alphys-darling."

Note underneath: Chemical burn scarring on left side of face, blind in left eye! -> here too! (with text bubbles underneath saying "What? Why I cover this half of my face?" -> "Now, if you could keep this a secret that would be lovely, darling. The press will hound me if the public finds out..." (arrow to chest says "TS scars")

bottom left drawing says "the silly" and sketch next to it says "concept sketch"

some bonus blooky:

Top doodle: "visiting snowdin"

Middle doodle with purple hoodie: "the irony of them liking ghostbusters was too funny" (underneath says "they r listening to cavetown")

"Some notes: "6'2, DJ + music composer (shyren on vocals), enby(they/them), probably in their early 20's, loves ghostbusters..."

im still fleshing mew mew and shyren out btw. they'll get more eventually

#mettaton #mad mew mew #napstablook #shyren #undertale #human undertale #i love them all very much #my art

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strangeshoepatrolbandit · 1 year

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Really excited for how your brotherly love series will go. And I just love how you included Tim and Jason because they’re my faves.

Can’t wait to read about some bonding between Jason and the reader

Sorry this is gonna be a long ass ask because there’s just a lot of things I want to comment on and ask.

There’s so many avenues you can explore. I’m kind of surprised only Damian is the only one who decides to take up crime fighting while the twin is fine with staying behind and exploring the mansion. One question I have is does the reader ever feel as if they’re living in Damian’s shadow? Like especially since Bruce bonds with Damian since Damian has taken up the mantle of Robin, then I’m gonna assume that Dick and Tim also spend time training their successor. Between training, vigilante duties, and time running Wayne Enterprises, that doesn’t leave a lot of free time. Does the reader ever feel left out/ignored or that Damian is the favorite? Or in other words, since the reader hasn’t thrown a tantrum that they’re stuck at the manor and they mainly seem to keep to themselves, do Bruce, Dick, and Tim seem to think Damian is a higher flight risk/the twin that is more reckless and needs more attention?

Poor reader. It hit a little close to home on the insecurities of being irritating/a nuisance to those your love.

Two, I think it’s so sweet that the reader was able to open up to Alfred that Damian yelled at them. I love how at least one of the Wayne’s is able to be open and express their emotions in a healthy way.

Three, you know how DCAU’s Batman vs Robin, Damian has a hard time getting past the security system. Idk but especially since Damian is the one who took up the mantle of Robin and it seems as if his primary focus is on training, I think it’d be such a funny thing to see him frustrated that his twin can bypass the security system with ease when the last time they picked up a sword or did any kind of conditioning was months ago before they lived with Bruce. And even Bruce, Dick, and Tim are scratching their heads since they thought you were the more well behaved and quiet one they didn’t have to worry about.

Damian: *fuming* I trained 18 hours every day for the past two months and couldn’t bypass the electric fence. How were you able to get pass the security system and then travel all the way to another country without any one detecting you until you got back?

Reader: *shrugs* don’t know. Maybe you’re rusty.

Next point, I mean especially since you mentioned that Jason’s eyes were an unnatural shade of green and he has that white streak in his hair, you can have the reader get inspired after hearing Jason’s story. They sneak away from the manor and try to (or successfully??) revive Ra’s by digging up their grandparents corpse and dunking it in the Lazarus pit.

That would be such an interesting parenting moment between Bruce and the reader. Poor Bruce can’t catch a break. He has to sit one kid down to explain why murder is not justice and then talk to the other kid that death is a natural part of life and it is not normal and somewhat questionably unethical to sneak out of the house to dig up your grandfather’s corpse and dip them in a magical lake to bring them back to life

Bruce: *sitting across from the reader rubbing his temples* so hypothetically if your hamster died, would you dunk it in a Lazarus pit because you missed them

Reader: I don’t know. I’ve never had a hamster.

But judging by your tone, I assume you want me to answer no..? You told Damian it was wrong to kill Deathstroke to take revenge for killing grandfather. Hypothetically, if if a very very very bad parakeet killed your hamster—

Bruce: dear god you’ve spent way too much with Jason

Anyways sorry to bug you with the long ass ramble. Hope some of it made sense. Bottom line, I’m looking forward to what comes next and if you ever need a beta reader or just want to spitball/brainstorm with anyone I’m all ears

You were not bugging me at all, I'm so glad that you enjoyed my story!!<333.

(I hope I make sense in this I have issues explaining things so bear with me)

To go over some of your topics, I feel that Damian is more career driven and felt comfortable being Robin because his life was spent being trained to be an assassin. I feel as if the reader is taking a break from the life they were forced to have by trying to live a "normal" life at the Manor. I will now go more into the topics of reader's insecurities, as we know they feel like they are annoying the people they are around, after a while they start to see how everyone is treating Damian like a normal person, whilst they are being treated like a child(even though they are), and they start to think that since Damian has been proving himself they just like him more. Everyone in the Manor does love them though, it's just Damian has hobbies in common with them so they feel that they have more to talk about(Wayne enterprises/Vigilante work), plus reader just stopped hanging out with everyone so how can people get to know them?

Yes, I wanted the reader to be able to have a healthy coping mechanism such as talking, literally all of the batfam has bad issues with talking except for Jason because homeboy goes to therapy(he too is an ex emotionally constipated person). Also yes reader does just have that magic touch, they are an Al-Ghul/Wayne, everyone knows reader was trained the exact same as Damian so it's a little bizarre that they are so good at something after being away from their training.

The reader is much aware of Ra's dips in the Lazarus pit and how it's kept him alive all these years, but I think that they understand that there is no help for Ra's, just like Talia said "the pit can't help a body that far gone"(or something), the reader is a little upset that after Jason had been beaten and put in a building with a bomb that the Lazarus pit still had a way to revive him(Reader and Damian both love animals and have definitely been in trouble for reviving random animals with dips in the pit LMAO). Reader, Damian, and Talia all share the same hatred for Deathstroke and all want him gone, whilst Damian and Talia are attempting to find and kill Deathstroke, reader just sits back because they know Talia has it handled. After spending time with Jason and sympathizing with him about his death, Bruce realizes that reader is all for getting revenge on people, they never did anything about Deathstroke but fully agree and understand Jason's reasoning behind wanting the Joker dead.

This actually meant so much, I'm sososososo glad you enjoyed Pt.1 of Brotherly Love!!! I have had a terrible night and this made it better!!!<33

( I definitely projected in this story, does anyone else have sibling issues?)

....Much love, Strangeshoepatrolbandit....

#x reader #batman #bruce wayne #damian wayne x batsis #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul #jason todd x reader #jason todd #batfam x batsis #batfamily #bat family #batboys #batfam #batkids #batbros #the batfamily

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strangersatellites · 1 year

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strangers 1.3k words

inspired by ethel cain's song "strangers" and if you read this it is a requirement that you listen to it. (its linked at the bottom)

idk team I was just listening to this song for the millionth time and needed to get this out, so here's 1.3k words of Eddie experiencing life after death and Steve dealing with grief and guilt I guess

Eddie is a ghost.

He’s made his peace with that.

Some kind of Upside-Down ghost probably. He doesn’t really care.

The people of Hawkins don’t know that. They still believe, still fear that he’s out there somewhere. Everyone that cared about him knows better.

WIthout a proper grave he just kind of… drifts.

Into and out of spaces, he leaves behind no trace save for a soft breeze if someone’s really paying attention.

They usually aren’t.

He’s not really a physical being so much as a feeling. Still in his body but less aware of it than he ever was. He thinks he couldn’t explain it if he wanted to. Couldn’t explain the way that people can’t see him or hear him when he’s there, but later feel like they had, and feel crazy trying to explain it. He’s had to learn his way around his new consciousness in a way that lets him be near the ones he cares about without hurting them. It's an exhausting cycle, to feel out of your mind.

He can see it in the way dread and grief tug at the shoulders of the people he loved. He knows this because the more someone thinks of him, the closer he can get to them.

At first he was at home a lot.

Well, as at home as he could be in this new place they’ve got Wayne in. It’s nowhere Eddie’d ever been when he was living, but Wayne’s there so it's home nonetheless. But as weeks turn into months the closest he can get is just outside the door. He can’t get inside, can’t actually see Wayne anymore. Can’t see the way that loneliness weighs him down. The way he picks himself up every time.

So he lets himself drift to wherever he’s pulled next. A time or two it's been to Jeff’s garage while he’s practicing. Several times he’s gotten to see inside Dustin’s room late at night before the kid falls asleep.

But the place he’s finding himself more and more often, he didn’t recognize at first. He just knew it was a basement somewhere. Drafty, door locked tight, and with nothing but dusty tools to keep him company, he found comfort in knowing that someone was remembering him. Even if only a little. Even if it’s a stranger.

Eddie’s drifted in and out of whatever kind of consciousness he experiences for a while before his surroundings morph and change.

The kitchen of the Harrington house he would recognize anywhere.

He smiles as he takes in the new space and thinks that if he had a human body he’d be sat up on the counter just like he is now.

Steve walks into the kitchen with a furrow in his brow and Eddie takes the time to really look.

This is the first time he’s seen Steve since the last of his air left his lungs and he’s hit with a strange sense of longing.

Can see it in the bags under Steve’s eyes that, even now, say he’s still carrying everything on his own.

He’d always done that.

When Eddie had made that stupid, stupid decision, though he’d be loath to admit it alive, he’d wondered if Steve would've done the same thing.

He thinks they both knew the answer was yes and that that’s the reason Steve still looks like hell even months later.

He looks like hell but he’s still so handsome walking over toward Eddie now.

Eddie knows he can’t see him, doesn’t know he’s there. But he still finds himself longing for the closeness when Steve grabs a glass from the cabinet and leaves the room again.

In an instant Eddie’s back in the basement. Steve’s memory of him gone as quick as it came as Eddie is left with the question that followed him his whole life:

Am I no good?

As he wastes away in the drafty, cold he realizes that he doesn’t feel a pull anywhere else. He decides that seeing Steve once in a while, if only for a short time, is better than being forgotten.

It becomes a routine. Eddie’s hours will turn into days, and he’ll lose track of time. Then he’ll blink and he’s watching Steve stare at himself in the mirror. He looks like he’s been crying and like he’s going to be sick. Eddie wants nothing more than to be able to comfort him. But as quick as they come, they go, and Eddie begins to connect the dots.

Eddie’s memory, like everything else Steve seldom allows himself to feel, gets carried with him always. But he locks them away tight in his heart and only lets them out when he thinks no one is watching. When he thinks he’s allowed to miss Eddie.

So Eddie stays in the basement, stays in Steve’s heart, heavy, guilty, until Steve’s ready to face it again.

One day it catches Steve by surprise.

Eddie can tell because he’s in the middle of putting away groceries when Eddie gets there.

At first Eddie’s confused. But then he sees the milk carton in Steve’s hand with the big MISSING: EDDIE MUNSON and his photo on the side. There’s a sale sticker over his face in what was surely some angry grocer’s last ditch effort to sell milk with the Hawkins devil on the side.

Steve’s frozen just looking at it and honestly Eddie gets it.

After everything that was lost, this may very well be the only physical memory of him that’s left save for a polaroid photo in an evidence locker somewhere.

He’s able to drift close enough to hear the breath Steve lets out before he puts it in the fridge and finishes unpacking his bags.

From that point on Eddie’s no longer in the basement.

He’s able to drift all around Steve’s house and he learns that he can touch things.

He watches Steve’s smile come back when Robin’s over.

He flits his fingers across windchimes when the air is still and watches them take in the music.

He watches Steve crash after long days at work and drags a blanket up over his shoulder.

Sees his confused face when he wakes.

He looks on when Steve pours the milk down the drain and puts the empty carton right back in the fridge.

Even though this makes him sad, he makes a smiley face out of the magnets on the door. Hopes that Steve notices.

He sees him scream out his anger late into the night and wishes that he could touch Steve.

But as time goes on he’s able to witness the way that Steve learns to carry the guilt, but to also try to let himself breathe.

Eddie spends a lot of his time wishing he were alive so that he could tell Steve he’s proud of him. That he could tell him he’s surrounded by people who would help him carry it all if he would just put it down. Wishes he were alive for a lot more reasons than just that.

But the night he gets the closest is when he figures out that he can use the phone in the office to call the one in Steve’s room while he’s away.

He’d learned early on in this afterlife that if he spoke he wouldn’t be heard. But he has a hunch that this might be an Upside-Down loophole.

He’s sitting on the floor across from where Steve’s lying in bed, and he’s watching the stream of tears drip down his pretty, pretty face while he listens to the voicemail.

Hey Stevie.

Called you just to tell you that I made it real far, and that I never blamed you for loving the way that you do while you were torn apart.

I would still wait with you there.

Don’t think about it too hard or you’ll never sleep a wink at night again. Don’t worry about me, Stevie, just know that I loved you.

And I’ll see you when you get here.

#steddie #kinda #im not even going to properly tag this #this is purely self-indulgent #sad steddie hours #gin writes #things I wrote instead of things I should be writing #y'all like actually have to listen to the song to get the full effect of this #if y’all haven’t gotten the gist by now #preachers daughter literally changed my life #and i will never shut the fuck up about it

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