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hajimesh · 3 years

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𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙚𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 — olympic team / fem reader

[ atsumu, sakusa, suna, kageyama, gao, bokuto, hinata, iwaizumi, oikawa ]

the stress of the first match seems to be taking a toll on the team's spirit, and you refuse to sit and watch them fail when you know you can be of help. but can you really handle all of them?

(or, where you end up having a gang bang with 8 professional volleyball players, and 1 athletic trainer)

⥅ word c. 7,928

⥅ warnings. sub reader, gang bang, foursomes, voyeurism?, fellatio, cum play, vaginal penetration, anal, unprotected sex, creampie, facial, size + stomach bulging kink, praise kink, mild degradation, double penetration, pussy job (for like, one second), double vaginal penetration, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, someone passes out, aftercare

⥅author n. brought to u thanks to this tweet + @kmorgzz who suggested adding iwaoi to the mix

special mention to my wife and love of my life, runa. @tsumue u had me laughing at 4am as i read ur comments in the google doc. i don't know what i'd do without u, tysm for beta and putting up with me for the past week ♡

ps. im v sorry if ur fave didn't make the cut (╥_╥) i added the ones im more familiar with, in terms of writing

if someone had told you you’d be attending the olympic games not as a spectator but as part of japan’s team, you’d have never believed them. but here you are, sitting in the same room with the most skilled players in the country as none other than their personal assistant.

“iwaizumi-san! do you think kageyama and i could pull off a quick attack right at the beginning of the set?”

“shoyo-kun, if there’s someone you’ll be doing the quick attack with it’s me,” atsumu’s eyes land on kageyama, smirking at the other setter from across the room, “right, tobio-kun?”

“you’re a disgrace.”

sakusa’s statement earns an offended scoff from the blond setter, the rest of the team rolling their eyes and sighing at the all-too-familiar scene.

“oi! we don’t have time for petty fights!”

after iwaizumi gets everyone’s attention back on him, he barely finishes explaining tomorrow’s match opponents and their plays without losing the team’s attention. he might be there to train them and make sure they’re on top of their game, but he knows when the team is lacking morale and, sadly, today’s one of those days.

the meeting is over and all of you go to the dining hall, fetching your dinner and sitting on your respective table with you right next to iwaizumi.

since you took that part-time job at the msby jackals, you quickly caught onto their small tics and tell-tale signs when something isn’t right. atsumu becomes a complete asshole which makes sakusa lose his temper sooner than usual. meanwhile, bokuto and hinata become very fidgety, often causing a bit of chaos around them as clumsiness radiates off of them.

when the national team was announced, you were offered the job as the trainer’s assistant—all thanks to the jackals who recommended you to their superiors for said position. your pay-check might say you’re just iwaizumi’s assistant, but you’re basically there to cover the needs of the entire team—all of them.

“iwa-chan!”

your head snaps to the side as a good-looking man takes the last free seat next to iwaizumi.

“aren’t you supposed to be sitting with your team?” iwaizumi asks him, taking a bite of his food while waiting for an answer.

the unknown man huffs exaggeratedly, rolling his eyes as he too starts to eat, “thought you’d miss your best friend.”

“hanamaki isn’t here.”

the stranger opens his mouth to reply, clearly offended by iwizumi’s words, when he notices you peeping at him.

“oh? hi! i think we haven’t met,” he shoots you a charming smile, bringing out his remarkably handsome features, “oikawa tooru, it’s nice to meet you.”

you introduce yourself, bowing at him and focusing back on your food.

both friends start to discuss tomorrow’s events, which inevitably brings out iwaizumi’s concern for his players.

“they seem off,” he’s playing around with the food as he stares at the players sitting in the table in front of yours, “i don’t know if i should talk to them or let them be.”

he’s clearly concerned for them, you can see it in his eyes—the doubt, wondering if he has been doing a good job with the team.

“iwaizumi-san, i-i… perhaps i could aid them this time?”

his head snaps in your direction, a mix of surprise and worry taking over his face, “no way, that’d be too much for you.”

oikawa’s eyebrows scrunch up as he observes you two but says nothing, choosing to listen attentively at you trying to convince iwaizumi while the latter sighs and reminds you that it’s not just the jackals this time.

it takes a while for iwaizumi to accept your offer, pondering the pros and cons, but he ends up accepting it; for everyone’s sakes.

“i’m lost.”

oikawa’s words make your insides flare-up, looking down at your hands in order to avoid looking at him, his curious eyes switching between his best friend and you.

iwaizumi ignores him, standing up from his seat and walking to the table in front of you with you and oikawa watching closely. the team turns to look at him, waiting for him to speak since it’s obvious it has to be something important by the severe look on his face.

“seeing as some of you are clearly out of it, our assistant here has very kindly volunteered to help you guys for tonight.”

a few heads immediately perk up, looking at you with bright eyes once you answer their silent question with a smile.

“please, be good to her. i’ll be there supervising anyways, so don’t think of trying anything funny.”

“oikawa-san! you’re coming with us, right?” hinata looks expectantly at said male, excitement clear in the redhead’s eyes, “she’s the best!”

both iwaizumi and you freeze on the spot, gauging oikawa’s reaction who only looks more confused.

“you’re welcome to join us, if you so desire,” it’s you who’s offering it this time, surprising iwaizumi and earning a worried glance from him.

oikawa can’t deny he’s dying to know what everyone’s so excited about, and after thinking about it for a few more seconds, he has made up his mind.

“shall we go, then?”

—

“alright, ground rules.”

just a handful of the team sits in the room, the ones who know what’s happening waiting eagerly for the green light while the rest wonders what the fuss is about. as much as you want to help them all, it’d be impossible; which is why iwaizumi picked the ones he thought needed the morale boost the most.

with a nod in your direction, he lets you know you’re free to speak.

“the jackals already know this,” you say and atsumu snickers from his seat, winking at you as hinata and bokuto nod excitedly, “but i’m not too strict about the entire thing.”

you can feel the pairs of curious eyes burning holes in you—trying to decipher what’s going on. so, after taking a deep breath and getting an awkward, encouraging smile from iwaizumi, you start voicing out the rules.

“please, be patient. there are so many of you and only one of me. i promise you’ll get your turn,” you give atsumu a pointed look, and this time it's sakusa who snorts while the blond setter rolls his eyes, “which brings me to the next rule, no seconds.”

a hand raises in the air, making you advert your attention to its owner.

“i still don’t get what’s happening,” suna’s eyes narrow down at you, noticing the embarrassment and hesitation in your posture.

“don’t worry, suna. we’ll show ya.”

“shut it, miya.”

clearing up your throat, you smile coyly at the middle blocker, “it’ll make sense once i finish explaining, suna-san.”

he shrugs but stays quiet. taking into account the jackals’ reactions plus the cryptic rules, an idea has already formed in his mind. but it couldn’t be that. right?

“uh, again, only one round. all entrances are fine,” you pause, going through the rules in your head to see if there’s anything you might be forgetting, “oh! and you’ll be paired up in teams of three to make things faster.”

“one more thing,” iwaizumi speaks up, this time looking at you instead of the awaiting men, “don’t forget to let us know how you’re doing.”

two loud claps break the tense atmosphere, “well, we should get started then,” atsumu raises from his spot and walks towards you. his hands cradle your face between them and lift it so you can face him properly, “what do ya say, princess?”

his lips land on yours before you can reply to him, a small squeal getting stuck in your throat when his hands travel down your body until he’s squeezing your ass.

you’re too caught up in the kiss to notice the new presence looming behind you.

“i’ll take your pussy before anyone can taint it with their dick.”

sakusa’s words make you shudder. you break apart from atsumu’s mouth to turn around and face him, his dark eyes alluring and drawing you towards him.

“oi, newbie,” atsumu calls out to suna who scoffs in return, “c’mere and join us.”

meanwhile, sakusa guides you to the bed, making you sit on his lap as you wait for the other two to show up. once they do, atsumu immediately settles behind you while suna stands awkwardly at the foot of the bed. it’s hard for you to read his expression since you’re not too familiar with him, so you offer him a reassuring smile and pat the spot next to you.

the rest of the team watches from their seats as the four of you get started.

suna lifts your chin, his eyes staring down at you before leaning down and kissing the corner of your mouth. he trails down your neck until he reaches your chest, sucking on the skin gently before running his tongue over the delicate area. in the meantime, atsumu unbuttons your blouse, taking it off and playing with your breasts while sakusa busies himself with taking your pants off.

“i get the hype, now,” suna whispers in your ear, blowing air on it and then biting down on your earlobe, making the hairs of your body rise.

his lips capture yours in a slow kiss —savoring your taste— and one of his hands goes to the back of your neck to keep you in place. his teeth play with your bottom lip, biting it softly and pulling away, his hooded eyes calculating your reaction.

“don’t get too excited, suna,” atsumu says from his spot behind you, pinching your nipples between his fingers and prompting a whine to escape your lips, “you’ll only get her mouth.”

“mhm, is that so?” suna’s question is directed towards you rather than atsumu, tilting your chin up and smirking at the dazed look in your eyes, “can’t wait to see that pretty mouth bulging with my cock, then.”

his lewd words earn a few coughs and clearing throats from the rest, which he chooses to ignore when your hand cups his growing bulge.

“enough you two, let the poor woman have a bit of pleasure too,” sakusa’s dark eyes look at you questioningly, silently asking if you’re ready to continue.

in return, you cup his face with your free hand and kiss his cheek—knowing he wouldn’t appreciate a kiss on the mouth when you just finished making out with another man.

they finish getting you out of your clothes until your bare cunt is hovering over sakusa’s lap. he’s quick to undress and ease his cock into you, suna and atsumu observing as they get rid of their clothes as well.

“fuck,” sakusa groans in your ear, the position allowing you to hide your face in his neck and wrap your arms around his shoulders, “always so tight.”

“scoot over, i need to prep her ass.”

suna snorts at atsumu’s words, pumping his cock twice before kneeling on the mattress—right next to you. he pats your cheek with the swollen head, looking down at you with a faint smirk.

“open up.”

your eyes immediately focus on his length, your mouth watering at the sight. you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, looking up at him and observing as he rests the tip on your tongue.

“looking so pretty with a cock in your mouth,” he slowly slides in, guiding your head down until half of him is inside, “so warm.”

a cold liquid dribbles on your backside, making you flinch forward and causing suna’s cock to slide in even more.

“relax, baby. it’s just me,” atsumu rubs the liquid on your asshole, playing with it with his finger before finally sliding it in.

your muscles contract involuntarily, making sakusa groan as he keeps still inside your pussy, waiting for you to grow used to the multiple things going on around you.

“hurry up before i start fucking her.”

a second finger slides in and you moan around suna’s cock, spit running at the corners of your mouth which reminds you to swallow. you hollow your cheeks and retract your mouth until only the tip remains inside, running your tongue over the slit and making the middle blocker shudder.

“someone’s hungry,” he muses.

you hum around him, bobbing your head back and forth and pumping the rest of his length with one hand.

“i’m gonna try get in now, okay?” atsumu taps your ass with his cock, lining it up with your asshole and thrusting in. he watches as the head of his cock finally slips in, groaning when the familiar tightness engulfs him, “that’s it, baby. doin’ so good for me.”

you have to remove your mouth from suna’s cock to avoid biting down on him, the stretch slightly more painful than pleasurable which eventually leads to you tensing up even more.

“you gotta relax,” atsumu says under his breath, strained by the way you feel around his dick.

it takes you around a minute to calm down, taking deep breaths until you feel yourself loosen up and, with one last push, he’s finally inside.

“omi?” you say against his neck, “could you move a bit, please?”

said man grunts as he starts to move his hips, your slick helping his cock glide in, “color.”

it takes you a few seconds to understand what he meant.

“oh! uhh, green.”

atsumu’s thrusts are slow —testing the waters— since the last thing he wants is to get yelled at for being too rough, too soon. but you’re growing impatient, moving your hips backwards and trying to get more of him inside of you.

“m-more, ‘tsumu. i can take it,” you say and he immediately complies, his muscular thighs now slapping against your ass.

suna remains kneeling next to you, cock in his hand as he waits for you to bring your attention back to him. but he doesn’t have to wait too long, your hand wrapping around his cock and guiding it back into your mouth once you’ve set a steady pace with the other two men.

“thought you had forgotten about me.”

he pushes your hair out of your face, watching your lips wrap around his girth. it’s taking all of his willpower to not hold your head and fuck your face until you’re gagging around him, afraid it might be a big ‘no’ from you. and since it’s the first time he’s getting to experience this, he decides to take whatever’s given to him.

“you’re so wet,” sakusa points out as he looks down at where you two are connected, observing his cock slide in and out of your cunt, covered with your slick.

“‘course she is, she’s being stuffed by three cocks.”

“feels good…” your manage to say after releasing suna with a pop, pumping his shaft with your hand, “a-am i making you feel better?”

a hand lands on your ass, causing you to yelp and tighten your hold on suna’s cock.

“what do ya think, hm? we’re getting our dicks wet in none other but our slutty little assistant's holes,” atsumu plays with your ass, squeezing it and humming when the imprint of his hands appears on the soft flesh.

“mhm, quite the slut you are,” sakusa whispers in your ear, kissing your neck afterwards, “as long as i get to make a mess out of that cunt of yours before anyone else, i will always enjoy these little sessions of ours.”

your eyes land on suna, waiting for him to say his thoughts on the matter.

his gaze drops to your hand, covered in his pre-cum and your spit which sends a jolt to his cock, making it throb in your hand.

“can’t say i hate it.”

you smile at his words, recognizing the challenge hidden behind them. your mouth wraps around the flushed tip, eyes closing when both sakusa and atsumu thrust up into your holes at the same time. you try to keep your hand steady as you suck suna off, but the lewd grunts and moans coming from them, plus their cocks filling you so nicely make your rhythm falter every once in a while.

a hand starts toying with your clit, causing you to moan around suna’s cock. the vibrations make him shudder, scowling at himself when he realizes his orgasm is approaching faster than he expected.

“fuck, fuck– princess? do you mind if i cum inside?” atsumu grunts.

your muscles clench at the thought of being filled with his cum, imagining the thick liquid oozing out of your sensitive holes only to stuff it back in with your fingers.

“y-yes, ‘tsumu. cum inside me,” you pant as your hands squeeze suna’s cock, pumping it faster as you notice his hips jerking towards you. you turn your face to look at sakusa, who has his eyebrows drawn upwards and his mouth open slightly as he too feels overwhelmed by the pleasure, “omi, you can cum inside as well.”

and he doesn’t need to be told twice, his large hands holding you by your hips so he can thrust his cock into your drenched cunt faster.

moans and squelching noises echo around the room. atsumu picks up his pace as he feels his orgasm approaching, his deep grunts fanning over your neck and taking over your hearing. the drag of sakusa’s pubic bone against your clit has you cumming shortly after. your head rolls forward as both men keep thrusting in and out of you, only stopping once their cum fill your clenching holes.

“shit– look at me,” suna orders you, and you barely have time to process what’s happening.

his cum lands on your face, his hand helping you pump his throbbing cock as the ropes of cum cover your skin. he exhales heavily once he’s done, brushing the flushed head of his cock over your swollen lips, and smearing the white liquid around them.

it’s silent for a few seconds, save for the heavy breathing and pants coming from your mouths.

“holy shit,” oikawa’s voice breaks the silence. his cock strains almost painfully against his pants at the sight of what awaits him.

“yeah, holy shit,” atsumu laughs off, brushing his hair out of his face with one hand as he massages the flesh of your ass with the other, “ya never disappoint, princess.”

with a grunt, the blond setter removes his softening cock from you, his honey eyes —plus a few curious ones— observing the way his cum dribbles out from your stretched hole. the same thing happens with sakusa, who lifts your hips off of him, his cock falling on his stomach and the mix of your slick and his cum dripping down on his length.

atsumu’s fingers immediately go to your cunt, pumping the juices back into you, “god, you love this. don’t you, baby?”

all you can do is whine, your hands clenching the sheets until he removes his fingers from your sensitive pussy, and stuffs them inside your mouth.

“we all get a turn?” kageyama whispers not so discreetly to hinata, who only nods eagerly in return.

you lick atsumu’s fingers clean which earns you a radiant smile from him.

“here.”

suna has his arm outstretched, handing you a tissue so you can clean your face.

“thank you,” you take it from his hands as you climb off of sakusa’s lap.

you’re cleaning the residues of cum on your face when a hand falls on top of your head.

“drink some water before you start the next round,” sakusa’s dark eyes suddenly seem warmer and kinder to you, patting your head before disappearing into the bathroom.

after tossing the used tissue away, you turn to iwaizumi and give him a firm nod.

“who’s next?”

your dazzling smile has the rest of the men in awe, silently praying it’s them who get to feel your body with their hands next.

“bokuto,” the wing spiker’s immediately perks up at the sound of his name, “you, kageyama, and hakuba are next.”

the three men raise from their seats and make their way towards the bed—towards you.

“hey, bo,” you offer a loving smile to him, “you ready?”

his strong arms wrap around you, kissing your cheek loudly and making you giggle, “it feels as if i’ve been waiting forever. of course, i’m ready!”

meanwhile, kageyama and gao stand at the foot of the bed, waiting for any instructions or a signal from you that could tell them when to start. luckily, you’re quick to notice their hesitation.

”is there a particular place where you want to be?” you ask them, looking specifically at kageyama and gao, since you want to make sure they feel included.

“dibs on your mouth!”

you blush at bokuto’s enthusiasm but accept his request, stroking his cheek as you wait for the other two to answer.

“i’ll take whatever,” kageyama says and scratches the back of his neck.

“me too,” gao smiles and takes a few steps towards you, making bokuto move away from you. his large hand tucks one piece of your hair away, his eyes staring at yours before dropping to your lips, “although, i think i’d like it better if i had your pussy gripping my cock. wouldn’t you like that?”

he presses his front against yours, his erection poking at your belly which earns a small gasp from you. you have to stop yourself from taking a look at the tent in his sweatpants, trying to figure out how much of him there is hidden inside the fabric.

“o-okay.”

the middle blocker smiles at you before diving down to your lips. his hands grab your waist, lifting you up from the ground and making you wrap your legs around his torso. he gently places you down on the bed and kisses his way down your neck until his mouth is right above your erect nipple.

“hey! i want to kiss her too,” bokuto complains, “you can’t hog her like that.”

“s’okay bo, come here.”

he doesn’t have to be told twice, immediately climbing onto the bed and leaning down to kiss your lips.

you grab the back of his head and run your fingers through his soft hair, pulling on it gently which causes a groan to rumble in his chest.

a pair of hands slide over your legs, pushing them apart until your bare cunt is spread wide open for everyone to see.

“you’re dripping, babe,” gao murmurs over your nipple, giving it a light tug before flicking his tongue over it, “do you want my cock that badly?”

you can only moan and nod, your lips still busy with bokuto’s.

but there’s someone who still has yet to join you.

“tobio-chan, if you’re not going to do anything then let me take your place instead.”

oikawa’s words snap you out of your daze. you pat bokuto’s cheek signaling him to let go of you, and the same thing happens with gao as you try to sit up. your eyes fall on kageyama who stands at the same spot with a conflicted look and an obvious erection in his pants.

“hey,” you crawl your way towards him and sit on your knees, “are you uncomfortable?”

his mouth opens but nothing comes out of it. he can feel the weight of everyone’s stare on him, making him look away from you.

a few seconds pass and there’s still no answer.

“you don’t have to do this, you know?” you say in a small tone, slightly confused as to why he’s rejecting you, “i just thought… i could help you relax.”

he nods, still avoiding your gaze.

you take a look at iwaizumi –who looks as equally as puzzled as you– before looking back at the setter.

“do you want to leave?”

at this, his head finally snaps towards you, “no, i-” he pauses. his eyes are immediately drawn to your mouth, making him involuntarily wet his lips, “i want to stay.”

relief washes over you, a timid smile spreading on your lips which is quickly mirrored by him. you take his hand in yours and guide him to the other side of the bed, urging him to join the rest of you. there’s a hunger in his eyes that has your pussy dripping with your slick, a sigh leaving your lips when your back hits the pillows as you watch him take gao’s previous spot.

“kiss me, tobio.”

and he does. it starts slow, hesitant, but it soon turns desperate. his tongue strokes yours before sucking on it, spit coating your lips thanks to the messiness of the kiss. the strain of his cock inside his pants becomes too uncomfortable to his liking, causing him to start humping against you, trying to relieve himself.

noticing his predicament, you move your hand between your bodies and palm his hard-on. he groans against your lips, his hips jerking forward seeking more of your touch.

in the meantime, both bokuto and gao pump their cocks with their hands, having taken their clothes off while you talked to kageyama.

gao squeezes the head of his cock between his hands, pre-cum oozing from the slit as he imagines the way your cunt is going to grip him, “babe, you’re making us suffer.”

“get in line!”

“atsumu, shut the fuck up.”

“baby?” bokuto asks from where he stands, his own cock stiff and ready to be inside your mouth, “we don’t mean to be pushy, but do you think you could get to us soon?”

“bokuto-san, you’re going to break a rule!” hinata says, clearly concerned for his teammate, “be patient, remember?”

the rest of the team laughs and you can’t help but join them.

at this, bokuto pouts playfully at you, “you’re just teasing me, baby.”

“then come here,” you gasp when kageyama’s mouth sucks at the base of your neck, “y-you wanted my mouth, right?”

bokuto kneels next to your face, patting the leaking tip on your lips.

“i’m going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours and you’re going to take it like a good girl,” he says, his tone leaving no room for questions, “open.”

you comply immediately, lolling out your tongue and waiting for him to rest his heavy cock on top of it.

the lewd sight in front of him makes bokuto shudder. his hands grasp your head, pushing you down his length until he feels your throat constricting around him.

“fuck– baby,” he grunts and gives a shallow thrust, “i know you can do better than that.”

you try to relax your jaw so you can fit more of him inside of your mouth. but as you are about to graze your nose against his pubic bone, a finger runs between your folds causing you to flinch.

“i’m still here.”

gao’s tone sounds stern, even if a playful smile tugs his lips upwards, you can see the seriousness swirling in his eyes.

kageyama sighs and leaves your side, stepping away momentarily to take his pants off.

the middle blocker takes it as his chance to settle between your legs as bokuto keeps your mouth busy.

“you’re drenched, sweetheart,” he muses, running his digits over your slit, “don’t worry, i’ll fill this pussy with my cock so well that you’ll be cumming in no time.”

your eyes travel to his shaft, watching as he pumps it twice before running it between your folds. your brows furrow when you notice how heavy it feels, making you wonder if it will fit in.

he lines himself up with your hole, pushing the head inside which is enough to have you whining around bokuto’s cock.

“you look so sexy,” bokuto groans, pushing your head away from him and watching your spit run down your mouth. he looks at kageyama who stands awkwardly with his cock in hand, “i guess we’re sharing her mouth.”

the setter’s eyes widen slightly before nodding, mimicking bokuto’s position and nudging his cock on your lips, “suck.”

your breath hitches at his order, caught off guard by his demanding tone. you grab his cock from the base and guide it into your mouth, pumping bokuto’s length with your other hand. you hum around kageyama, running your tongue over the head of his cock before hollowing your cheeks and sucking harshly on it.

but your attention on them doesn’t last too long, the sudden feel of your pussy getting split open by gao’s cock taking it away.

“so tight,” he grunts, one of his hands running over the skin of your inner thigh until he reaches your soaking cunt. he pulls your folds apart, watching you struggle to take his cock inside you—no matter how wet you are, “i bet those jackals haven’t been fucking you like you deserve.”

“oi!” “not true!”

you free your mouth from kageyama and use both hands to pump his and bokuto’s cock, “s-so big, ugh-”

gao pushes more of him in, half of his cock already inserted in you. but he’s just so thick, so big, that you can’t help but clamp down your walls around him. his thumb starts rubbing circles on your clit, trying to relax your walls, as his other hand settles on your abdomen.

“you’re going to be so full of my cock that you’ll be able to see it,” he gives a gentle pat to your belly, “right here.”

your grip on the other two men tightens as gao finally bottoms out, a whine breaking through your lips at the stretch.

“if only you could see yourself,” his thrusts are lazy, mesmerized by the way your belly bulges when he pushes his cock inside you, “so fucking sexy with my fat cock inside your cunt.”

your lips wrap around the tip of bokuto’s cock once more, closing your eyes as pleasure clouds your head. he thrusts in, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

“good girl,” bokuto exhales, “taking my cock so well.”

you quicken the pace of your other hand, looking at kageyama as you obscenely suck bokuto.

the setter’s eyes refuse to leave yours, “who would’ve thought our assistant could be so naughty.”

“as if you’re complaining,” gao says, lifting your leg over his shoulder. the new angle allowing him to press his hips closer to yours.

“i never said i was.”

bokuto curses under his breath when you start sucking his balls, pumping the rest of his length with your hand and squeezing the head of kageyama’s cock with the other.

“you’re going to make me cum,” bokuto groans.

giggling, you lick your way up and run your tongue over the slit, “cum in my mouth.”

the sound of collective groans echoes in the room, a fair amount of players finding your words arousing.

“what a slut, let’s see if you keep talking when you’re covered in our cum.”

gao’s threat goes straight to your pussy, making you cream around his girth. the pace of his thumb on your clit quickens once he notices your walls spasming around him.

“ngh, fuck!” you’re breathing heavily by now, barely managing to keep the pace of your hands consistent, “i-i’m gonna… i’m gonna cum.”

“let go, baby.”

one of gao’s hands travels up your body until he’s pinching your nipple between his fingers.

“shit, shit, shit,” you’re thrashing underneath him, your cunt fluttering around his cock thanks to your orgasm.

kageyama’s way too focused on the way your face contorts in pleasure to notice how his hips have started to jerk faster. that is until the familiar coil suddenly snaps and his cum lands on your chin and part of your chest.

“h-how did you get even tighter- hah!”

warm spurts of cum fill your cunt, the sense of fullness intensifying as gao frees his load inside of you.

“i’m cumming, baby. fuck, fuck–” bokuto chants your name as he too reaches his orgasm, quickly shoving his cock into your mouth and releasing his thick cum inside of it.

you make sure to keep sucking him, milking his cock dry. once you remove your mouth from him, you bring his and kageyama’s cock closer to your face and pucker your lips, letting the mix of cum and spit fall on their cocks before giving a few kitten licks to the flushed heads.

gao starts to remove his cock from your insides, cursing at the state of your pussy once he’s finally out.

“holy fuck, she’s tightening around nothing.”

you let out a low moan when his fingers spread your lower lips, “t-too sensitive.”

“i think that’s enough,” iwaizumi intervenes, pushing him away, “color?”

“yellow,” but you continue as soon as you see his face become stern, “relax, i just need to calm down a bit.”

kageyama offers you a towel before awkwardly thanking you for your help. and after receiving a kiss on the forehead from bokuto, the three of them leave to go clean themselves.

“iwa-chan, why don’t you give her a massage?”

you let your body fall on the mattress, extending your arms above your head and moaning at the stretch.

“mm, that’d be nice.”

iwaizumi rolls his eyes playfully when he sees you pouting at him, “get on your stomach, i’ll be right back.”

in the meantime, oikawa and hinata take the spots next to you, eager to finally have their turn with you.

“you’re so pretty,” oikawa runs his hands over the skin of your shoulders, “those idiots are lucky to have you.”

your eyes start closing up, focusing on the feel of his fingers on your skin and making goosebumps appear all over your body.

“shoyo, we should help her relax too. don’t you think?”

you catch the suggestive tone in his voice, but his touch feels so good that you choose to ignore it.

both men start caressing your body, hinata’s hands paying special attention to your shoulders while oikawa pets your hair, murmuring sweet nothings.

“you ready?” iwaizumi pops back into the room, a bottle of oil and a clean towel in his hands.

“mhm.”

the towel rests on your ass, iwaizumi’s warm hands spreading the oil on your back and rubbing at the sore muscles.

“does that feel good, princess?” oikawa asks when he hears you sigh. you are about to reply when iwaizumi hits a sore spot, a groan slipping past your lips and making the setter chuckle, “can you tell me your color now?”

“green.”

oikawa looks at iwaizumi and both men seem to communicate through their eyes, the latter smirking before going back to work.

at first, you don’t pay too much attention to his movements, choosing to focus on the pleasure. but then you notice how his hands seem to ghost lower and lower until he’s kneading your ass, the towel long forgotten.

before you can comment on it, he moves them to your thighs, massaging the soft flesh. it all goes back to normal –or so you think– until his hands reach higher and his digits start grazing your slit.

“hajime…”

“shh,” oikawa coos in your ear, pushing your hair out of your face and kissing your temple, “let him take care of you.”

iwaizumi inserts one finger inside your pussy, curling it until he’s teasing the spongy walls.

whines escape your mouth, your hands gripping the bedsheets which are quickly replaced by hinata’s hands.

“so cute.”

another finger slips in and makes you open your eyes, looking at oikawa helplessly, “o-oikawa-san-”

“tooru,” he interrupts you.

“tooru,” you try his name and he hums, letting you know he’s listening, “could you… uh, k-kiss me?”

“of course, princess.”

he leans down to capture your lips, swallowing your moans when iwaizumi curls both fingers and massages your spot.

you open your legs, allowing iwaizumi to finger you better as you rut your hips on the mattress, rubbing your clit against the fabric of the sheets and chasing after your orgasm.

“iwa– faster, please.”

he complies immediately, causing wetness to gush out of your cunt and making the distinctive squelching sounds fill the room.

“i’m gonna– ah! i’m c-cumming!”

“cum for me,” he encourages you, and that’s all you need.

you gush around his fingers, your slick coating them as you squirm under the gaze of the three men.

hinata tugs at your hand, pulling you underneath him and kissing you sloppily. you gasp on his mouth, caught off guard by the sudden movement but quickly melting into the kiss.

he blushes once he pulls away, “s-sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“it’s okay, shoyo,” you breathe out, caressing his cheek, “want me to help you?”

he beams at your offer, nodding eagerly as he watches you climb on top of him. you straddle his hips and run your cunt over his cock, shivering when his length grazes your clit.

“do you want me to ride you?” you whisper, playing with his hair.

“wait- i think i have a better idea.”

hinata lifts you from his lap and moves until he’s sitting on the edge of the mattress. he pushes your hips with his hands, turning you around so you’re facing away from him.

“you can sit on my lap now.”

your ass rests right on top of his cock, but he hooks his arms on your knees, spreading you open, as he lets himself fall back on the mattress.

“what are you–”

“oikawa-san, doesn’t this remind you of something?”

said man laughs, “how could i forget? we had quite some fun back in brazil, huh?”

you’re visibly confused, looking at oikawa with furrowed brows, “what do you want to do?”

“say, princess,” his tone suddenly sounds too sweet for your liking, “have you ever had two cocks in one hole?”

your eyes widen, looking back and forth between oikawa and iwaizumi—who has ridden himself of his clothes and sits next to you, his thick cock in his hand.

“i’ll take that as a no.”

“can we do that?” hinata asks from behind you, his breath fanning on your ear, “we’ll be gentle.”

“there’s literally another free hole for you to use!” someone yells, clearly annoyed they didn’t get the chance to do it.

oikawa clicks his tongue, “where’s the fun in that?”

after taking a minute to think it through, you agree to their offer, “okay… uh- iwa?” you turn to look at him, “what about you?”

seeing as there’s no room for him to take your ass, his eyes land on your mouth. and with two taps of his finger on your cheek, he lets you know his decision.

“think you can suck me off?”

they’re all given the green light when you answer his question. hinata raises you from his lap, aligning his cock with your entrance before letting your weight fall on top of it. you groan at the familiar thickness stretching you nicely, missing the flash of hunger in the setter’s eyes.

“my turn.”

oikawa presses the tip on your entrance, pushing forward and making room for his own cock.

the burn of having two cocks in one hole is new to you, but it’s surprisingly more pleasurable than you thought it’d be. you lift your eyes to look at oikawa, his gaze already locked on you, and you feel your pussy cream around their cocks at the lust in his eyes.

“enjoying yourself, princess?”

you moan when he bottoms out, watching the muscles of his abdomen contract and feeling his cock pulsing inside of you.

the thrill of being stretched by two cocks, at the same time, has your head spinning; your thoughts becoming lewd as you picture both men cumming inside you and globs of cum dripping from your abused hole.

“oikawa-san, did you feel that?” hinata asks. half-amused, half excited, “she’s squeezing us so well.”

“naughty, princess,” the setter grunts, “don’t forget about iwa-chan.”

you turn your head to face him, catching the irritated look he sends oikawa before looking down at you.

iwaizumi’s eyes immediately soften, but a smirk slowly tugs at the corners of his lips, “you seem busy.”

“there’s always room for japan’s national team athletic trainer.”

he can’t help but laugh, shaking his head at the silly title. he raises from his seat and settles himself above you, his cock hovering on your face and making your mouth water.

“whenever you’re ready.”

you don’t need to be told twice. grasping his thick cock with your hand, you lean forward and flick your tongue on the head, looking at him through your lashes with faux innocence.

“start moving,” iwaizumi hisses, the words directed at the other two men, “seems like she needs a little reminder of who’s in charge right now.”

oikawa and hinata look at each other with smirks on their lips. as hinata said earlier, they’ve been in this position before, so there’s no need for words between them since they both know what’s coming next.

hinata moves his head slightly to the side, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder and, at the same time, granting him the view of your cunt being filled with their cocks.

“look at her, oikawa-san” his eyes are locked on your pussy, captivated by the way you suck them in, “she looks so pretty with two cocks splitting her open.”

hinata’s lewd words prompt you to involuntarily moan, the vibrations landing on iwaizumi’s cock.

“hmm, you like it when you’re reduced to nothing but a slut. don’t you?”

you blink up at iwaizumi as you keep bobbing your head up and down his shaft, opting to hum to let him know you’re not ignoring him.

but his words catch someone else’s attention.

“is that true?” oikawa asks, amusement clear in his voice, “you like being reminded you’re a whore? how much of a greedy slut you are by fucking an entire volleyball team?”

you’re speechless, his words –matched with his and hinata’s harsh thrusts– causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

“answer me.”

oikawa’s hand wraps around your throat, barely applying any pleasure but it’s enough to send your mind into a frenzy.

after releasing iwaizumi’s cock from your mouth, you take a second to swallow down your spit before answering him.

“y-yes, tooru. i like being treated like a slut.”

his eyes sparkle with mischief, pleased by your words.

“good, because that’s how you’re going to be treated from now on.”

a hand travels to your throbbing clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive nub.

“s-shoyo!”

“shh, it’ll make you feel good.”

something wet slaps against your cheek, “don’t get distracted.”

you nod and go back to sucking iwaizumi off, moaning every time hinata or oikawa hit a spot inside your cunt. you dare take a look at where your body connects with both men, and you catch yourself becoming entranced by the way their cocks slide in and out of your pussy so easily.

you are familiar with hinata’s cock, but it’s nice to see the contrast between the two of them. while hinata’s length is thick and veiny, oikawa’s leans towards the slimmer side—but still with a considerable length. either way, both men manage to hit those sweet spots inside you and make you see stars.

“shit– princess,” oikawa falters a bit when he feels your walls fluttering around him.

“we can cum inside you, right?” hinata asks, sensing his orgasm approaching. after all, he had been waiting for his turn for around an hour.

you pull away from iwaizumi, a string of spit connecting your lips with his cock and causing it to twitch at the sight.

“you can cum wherever you want.”

“oh? the team’s cocksleeve,” oikawa adds, “i see.”

iwaizumi chuckles, combing your hair out of your face and pushing his cock back into the warmth of your mouth, “you like that nickname, sweetheart?”

with his length still in your mouth, you manage to hum in affirmation.

hinata’s pace on your clit quickens as his hips jerk faster, your cunt squeezing their cocks even more in return, “i’m cumming, ah– i-i’m gonna cum!”

he manages to say before you feel him twitch inside you, pumping his cum into your walls. the fullness plus his rapid movements on your clit cause the familiar warmth to take over your body. but it’s your fourth orgasm of the night, and before you can warn anyone, liquid spurts out of your cunt.

you squirm on top of hinata, gushing around his and oikawa’s cock while your mouth remains occupied with iwaizumi’s.

“holy shit.”

both oikawa and iwaizumi cum at the sight of you squirting before them, observing the wetness soaking oikawa’s abdomen and running all the way down onto the bedsheets. they groan as they feel their load releasing into you, oikawa filling your tender cunt while iwaizumi fills your mouth.

you try to swallow a bit of iwaizumi’s cum but it’s useless. your chest heaves in exhaustion, your eyes closing involuntarily as you’re being hit with wave after wave of fatigue.

“hey,” oikawa winces when he removes his cock from you. he shoots a worried glance at iwaizumi before he’s leaning forward so he can take a closer look at you, “princess? how are you feeling?”

iwaizumi nudges hinata with his knee, wordlessly telling him to let go of you.

the following moments become a foggy mess, your mind barely registering the pair of arms wrapping around you and carrying you somewhere else.

all you can feel is tiredness, and the dampness between your thighs, before you finally pass out.

—

consciousness slowly makes its way to you, replacing the sleepiness and making you aware of your surroundings as a familiar soreness sits heavy on your body.

in an instant, flashbacks from the previous night run through your mind.

you grip the duvet and push it away from you, only to notice the set of clothes you’re wearing: an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that clearly don’t belong to you. but you don’t have time to dwell on it, the sound of your ringtone blasting all over the room and making you scramble around the bed so you can answer the call.

but it’s of no use when it goes to voicemail—you were a bit too late.

when you manage to find your phone, you tap on the screen to see whose call you just missed.

‘hajime’

your fingertips hover on the contact name, debating between returning the call or wait for him to call you again. but a few notifications pop up at the top of the screen signaling you have three text messages from him.

hey, i guess you’re still asleep. don’t freak out when you wake up, you deserve the rest so it’s okay if you stay in bed. i left your breakfast on the nightstand and you can always call me if you need anything else.

and i thought you’d like to see this.

there’s a link attached at the end of the message.

you click on it and wait for the page to load, tapping your nails on the back of your phone anxiously. a headline in big bold letters takes over the screen and you have to stop yourself from squealing.

‘japan men’s volleyball team makes it past the first round.’

you start scrolling down the article, reading how spectacular the match was and how the entire team seemed to be in their best shape. you feel your face heat up when you read the argentinian team won their match too, with multiple comments praising oikawa’s performance.

with a smile on your lips, you go back to your messages to type a quick reply to iwaizumi. only to notice you have one more text from him.

it’s our turn to take care of you.

12K notes · View notes

dashielldeveron · 3 years

Text

and i’ve gotta crow | takami keigo

hawks x pro-hero! reader. quirk unspecified.

summary: “You’re suffering from amnesia,” says Hawks to you, in your hospital bed.

No, you are not.

“We’re engaged to be married.”

No, you are not.

After an accident that was that bastard Hawks’s fault, you decide to play along with your diagnosis of amnesia, among other things, because how far can you make your former bully bend over backwards for you?

fluff/trickery??? completely avoidable angst, bc reader is a little shit. hawks is a scumbag bully at first. reader is honestly kind of violent. dealing with acne in a scene.

When the first things you saw after groggily blinking your eyes open were multiple IVs in the back of your hand, you flipped over and snuggled farther into your hospital bed to deal with it later, but against your will you were forced to lie flat on your back to stare into the hospital fluorescents.

When the nurse fiddling with your IVs came into focus, he said, “You need to lie on your back. You have deep gashes on your lower abdomen, and tossing about too much could open the stitches.”

That sounded like bullshit, but you were too out of it to care. “Yeah, okay,” you said through a croak, “Oh, fuck.” You wrestled a hand to your throat, massaging it. “Am I waking up from a coma? Don’t let anyone see me until I’ve done my eyebrows.”

The nurse laughed through his nose. “No, don’t worry. You’ve barely been—” He cut himself off and frowned. “The news should probably be broken to you when you have emotional support. I’ll be back soon.”

He left.

Emotional support? Wouldn’t that fucking gash on your stomach be—ooh, ouch, don’t move.

Where’s your phone? Where’s your goddamn phone; where’s any of your personal belongings? If they got crushed, you’re killing Hawks on sight.

Hawks, oh, my God. Where is he? He’s dead. If he still has the audacity to bully you professionally—fuck.

He’d cornered you on patrol earlier—whenever that was—and cut into you in that casually, negging-type way that wasn’t enough to report but enough to make you stay up late and freak out about being good enough. It hurt your chest whenever you thought about it.

But this was the first time he’d gotten seriously physical.

He’d alit on the top of the warehouse next to you, landing what would have been haphazardly for anyone else (the arch of his feet against the edge, his toes barely touching roof) and had crouched next to you, his scarlet wings completely blowing your cover as they stretched and shuddered.

“What’s a little girl like you doing in this part of town?” Hawks had propped his chin on both his fists. “Thought shoplifters were more your calibre.”

“Hawks, this is actually really important to me, so please, please leave,” you’d said, keeping your eyes on the group you could barely make out through the skylight. They’d already been partially concealed by crates, so they were hard to see.

“Someone else give you a tip for their location?” He’d tapped your opposite shoulder with the end of his wing, but you hadn’t even flinched.

“Bruh, you know I’ve been on this for weeks,” you’d said, shifting away from him, “I even shared intel at your last briefing.”

“Is that what you were talking about?” Hawks had scratched his chin. “I zoned out. Usually the little cases female heroes present aren’t in my circle, and I like to unwind when brain power isn’t needed.”

You’d planned to rip his wings out feather by feather while you’d gritted your teeth. “You can’t talk to me like that, Hawks.”

He’d laughed, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “C’mon, babygirl, have a slice of chill, won’t you? I thought you were one of the cool girls. Relax. I don’t mean anything by it.”

“Leave me alone, Hawks. You’re not gonna bully me into joining your agency. You’re not gonna bully me into quitting being a hero,” you’d said, inwardly screaming, “I’d tell you to go talk to someone who’d fall for your shit, but then, she’d have to suffer, too. So, fuck off into a sewer, jackass.”

“Oof,” Hawks had said, placing a hand over his heart and shaking his head, “You don’t have to be such a bitch, sweetheart. I’m only looking for my better half. Didn’t think it could be you, but I’d thought I’d give you a chance to prove me wrong. Don’t take yourself too seriously; just be along for the ride like the rest of us.”

“Huh,” you had said, and you’d stood and strode to the edge of the warehouse to your harness and rope, and you rappelled down the side of it as stealthily as you came up.

“I’ve been watching you all these years, sweetness, and I know you by now; I know how you really feel,” Hawks had said a bit too loudly while he flew downwards at your speed (braggart). “Strip away all of your busy work, your so-called hero trappings, and we’d mesh together just fine. We may be rough around the edges, but we clean up really nicely, don’t we?”

You’d unclipped your carabiner and stepped out of your harness, stashing it in your pack. “Fuck off.”

You’d moved towards the back entrance, but Hawks had slammed a hand against the concrete wall in front of you. You’d ducked under it and carried on, and he’d grabbed the back of your shirt.

“C’mon, if we didn’t know each other, and our eyes met from across the room at some hero gala, you’d be all over me, wouldn’t you?”

You had swiped his hand away. “I’d be putting a lid on my drink.”

His arms behind his back, Hawks had followed you through the door and behind the exposed pipes and closer to your targets. “Saw you coming onto Todoroki at the last one. You looked fine in his colours, but you would’ve looked better in mine.”

Don’t grace him with an answer; don’t grace him with an ans— “I wasn’t coming onto Shoto,” you’d said, pulling yourself up a couple of pipes for a better view—and you’d hit him when he flapped his wings to hover the few feet you’d ascended, because the noise might alert them.

“Yeah, you just simp for him, right? Then you didn’t step outside your comfortable ice queen act?” Hawks had gripped onto a pipe just underneath your ass. “You’re too much of a natural tease for that.”

How can you report him when he’s the head of his own agency? You guess the commission might listen, but what can they do besides slap his wrist? There’s really no one who can stop him, is there?

You hadn’t replied but instead crawled onto the iron catwalk. If you could position yourself about three-quarters of the way across, you’d be able to effectively activate your quirk and get this over with—wait, why would you think like that? You’d been waiting for this for ages.

A hand spreading across the small of your back had reminded you.

You’d flipped over with fire in your eyes and kicked him away as quietly as you could, but all he’d done was sit back on his knees to grin down at you, army-crawling your way through a dirty warehouse.

Would he take credit for your work again?

You’d shaken yourself. Eat my entire ass, Hawks. And with that, you’d continued inching towards your targets. When you’d gotten into position to watch them, Hawks had merely watched you.

You had scowled. “I’m gonna tear you a—”

“You had a hard childhood, didn’t you?”

A chill had unfurled up your spine, simple as that. Hawks now not only had the annoying air of an arrogant pick-up artist but also gave you an intense sense of danger. You’d moved away from him, regrettably away from your target, but Hawks had followed you, getting closer until his body heat had seeped into yours, a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his dumb face.

“I could take suuuuch good care of you, little girl,” he’d said under his breath, “if only you’d let me. No one else is crazy enough to call me out or want more than the bare minimum.” His wings had folded in on his back, making themselves as small as possible to get closer to you. “If you give in, tell me yes, say please, you wouldn’t have to let any worries cross your pretty little mind. All you have to do is let me in.”

“Yikes,” you had said, sucking in through your teeth, “God, you’re a creep.”

Hawks had slammed you down onto the catwalk, iron reverberating through the warehouse as it struck your head, and your targets had looked up by the time the catwalk hinges had loosened and had come crashing down in the midst of their meeting.

You’re really not supposed to shoot guns inside. Don’t they know that’ll ruin their ears? No matter, really. You had fought them anyway, amidst crates splintering open from whatever they were shooting at you—fuck, that was a big hole. What’s oozing out of that? Gross, don’t step in it.

One with a normal revolver—his arm had given a woody crack when you’d bent it backwards—God, that was nice. Good sounds. If you could sample them into a rap track, you would.

You’d been planning a collab with a popular rapper while you’d hurled yourself at another villain, sawdust flying—just to keep your mind busy, really, but fucking—fucking Hawks had bested whoever he’d half-assed to the ground and had shouted your way.

“C’mere, you little shit—”

He’d scooped you up while you’d been taking care of it by yourself, and he had pinned you down behind a stack of crates that reached the remains of the catwalk, straddling you but keeping most of his weight off, his wings outstretched yet still hidden from the cloud of sawdust rising with deep gurgling on the far side.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” he’d said over the chaos, spit flying, “You can’t handle this; you’re gonna get fucking killed. I can’t babysit you all the time.”

“Get fucked; I’m the number fourteen hero,” you’d said, deadly still, but twitching in fury, “I can handle anyth—”

“Aww, fourteen. And one day babygirl might reach the single digits.” Hawks had sneered in your face. “If she manages to fuck her way through them.”

Your jaw had dropped, and you pretended to cough on sawdust and kicked him off in the confusion. Hawks had grabbed a hold of your calf, grappling for your thigh, while you’d scrambled to climb over crates to the gurgling mess on the other side; you could handle it, and you would.

You’d slapped his hands away, wrestled out of his grasp again and again, and you’d launched yourself into the dust—

Yeah.

While the fluorescent lights flickered overhead, you picked at a hangnail. You hadn’t braced yourself for the explosion, so, you guessed you deserved whatever was wrong with you now. Big-ass gashes on your stomach. Probably broken ribs. Something felt off in your left leg, besides—oh, ho, what had the doctors thought when they’d seen Hawks’s scratches?

What an idiot.

When the door creaked open, the nurse returned with a mug of water for you, but—what? Who’s that bitch following him?

You blinked, twice. With his hands in his pockets and his nasty little wings tucked in behind him, Hawks meandered to your bedside, his gaze on your throat as you swallowed down water.

God, you’re too tired to deal with him. Let’s get this over with.

The nurse glanced over his clipboard. “I’ve already told your partner this, but I thought you would want him here.”

Maybe if you ignore Hawks, he’ll leave.

“You were very brave today,” said the nurse, “Your work as a hero is greatly appreciated. You’re on temporary leave to heal, though. Like I said, you’ve got three, major gashes on your stomach, and your leg’s broken—the fibula split, if you want to know. You’ll be on crutches for a while. You have four broken ribs, and—” The nurse bit his lip and softened his voice. “You hit your head pretty hard. Nothing’s broken, but you should have amnesia, with the trauma you’ve endured.”

Should have? They don’t know? You sure as hell don’t fucking have amnesia. It barely happens in real life, and it definitely hasn’t happened to you. You remembered every fucking infuriating thing Hawks did to ruin your mission, and if he doesn’t square up—

“I’m so sorry, baby,” said Hawks, grabbing your hand. He stroked the back of it with his thumb, and then he took his glove off to hold you skin-to-skin. “You remember who I am?”

You just stared at him.

“Your fiancé’s been a real presence in the waiting room,” said the nurse, “He hardly stopped pacing the entire time you were in surgery. He wouldn’t even talk to fans.”

Oh, my God.

Holy fucking shit.

“Oops, sorry,” said the nurse, covering his mouth, “I know you were keeping it a secret. Don’t blame him, please; he only told me to be able to see you immediately.”

Shutting your eyes, you took a deep, deep breath. You have been handed a golden opportunity on a fucking Hawks-shaped platter, holy fuck, and by God are you going to take advantage of it. Imagine how much you can fucking humiliate him, how far you can take it. How much you can make him pay for how he treated you, and now, if he says he’s your fiancé, then he’s gonna fucking worship you. You’re going to mould him into your little bitch, and he’s going to thank you for it. And you’ll get endless dirt on him just by seeing his place.

Don’t fuck this up.

Exhaling, you opened your eyes, blinking a bit. You curled your lips into your mouth, biting the lower one. “I remember you’re Hawks,” you said in a nervous voice, “and I remember, uh.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” Hawks squeezed your hand, his tone kind. “It’ll come back in time.”

You clutched Hawks’s hand while the nurse rattled off instructions and gave you your crutches, and Hawks squeezed your hand back, softly smiling at you.

When the nurse left, you turned to Hawks and said, “I’m so, so sorry, but I—I feel like there’s something big missing that I can’t remember.” You scratched your forehead with your free hand, dragging the IVs with you.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Hawks tilted his head, still gazing decidedly down at you.

“Oh, God,” you said, “Oh, fuck. I don’t know. Um.” Take it back. Take it way back. That way he’ll dig himself into a deeper hole. The more lies he has to create, the funnier it’ll be. “Let’s see, I, hm.” You already weren’t speaking like yourself, but you looked upward as you faked combing through memories. “I don’t know how things work chronologically, but the most recent memory I have of you is—it’s after a press conference, and I’ve never been in the building before,” you said slowly, “And I can’t find the bathroom, but some press keeps following me, and I—I faceplant in between your shoulder blades, right between your wings. You—” You lowered your voice, shrinking a little in the hospital bed, “You got rid of them so easily, with just a gesture, and you put your arm around me. You were—” You shook your head, staring at both of your hands. “—so warm.”

Was that too thick? That was too thick, wasn’t it?

His free hand shot to his mouth, and he bit his knuckle. “But sweetheart, that’s,” said Hawks, his eyes watering, “That’s only around the third time we met.”

You know.

“Shit,” you said, widening your eyes, “How long ago was that?”

“Three years.” Hawks squeezed your hand and kept the pressure longer than was necessary. “Three fucking years. You don’t remember anything past that?”

You pretended to be scared to look at him. “I’m sorry; I’m so sorry—”

“No, no, you don’t have to be,” said Hawks, and he leant towards you to lift your chin, rubbing his thumb against it, “It’s not your fault.”

You had to hand it to him: Hawks was a good actor.

But so were you.

***

Hawks disappeared for a while after that, but he manifested the day you were loosed from the hospital, more than giddy to carry all of your shit all the way to your flat. He was probably getting some sick pleasure from watching you hobble on your crutches.

“I can help you, if you lean on me,” said Hawks, giving you an easy grin, “I don’t want you to be in any more pain than you have to.”

“This is something I should do myself,” you said in what was hopefully a tough-it-out voice, “I’d like to be able to walk without depending on anyone.”

“I honestly think you ought to be in a wheelchair.” His wings bristled. “But what do I know? I could fly us to your place, if you like.”

“I don’t like. I’ve gotta concentrate on limping. Stop talking, Hawks.”

You got to your flat, and Hawks had guessed which key opened the door on the first try. Drat! He was already doing a good job of acting like he’d been here before, like he’s not surprised that the number fourteen hero lives in a pretty shitty apartment (you started living here as a student and got too damn comfortable for your own good—plus, you didn’t want your cat to endure the trauma of moving).

Hawks plopped your keys in the bowl by the door with a clatter, and he shut the front door behind you, flipping one of the locks.

He set your stuff neatly on the kitchen table—your purse, your tactical pack, your ropes—and lay your dry-cleaned hero suit over the back of a kitchen chair, and his hands were on you the next moment to guide you to your tacky, sunflower couch. Removing one crutch, he put your arm over his shoulder instead, one hand planted on your lower back above your bandages, and he eased you down onto the cushions.

Hawks then stepped over your legs to sit on your opposite side, and he brought your legs to rest in his lap, his hand gripping your non-casted leg. “Gotta keep it elevated, chickadee.”

You let yourself giggle. Time to get this shitshow started. “Thank you so much for helping me, Hawks; I know I’ve been a real hassle these past few days, and you shouldn’t have to deal with that sort of stress. You’re already under so much. I don’t understand how the commission would let you date anyone, let alone propose.”

“Oh, I know,” said Hawks, spreading himself out on the couch. He shifted himself to face you in addition to accommodate his wings—he was now positioned so that they’d drape over the arm of the couch instead of being squished against the back cushions. That bitch, he probably wasn’t used to couches that weren’t custom made to his special body requirements. Spoiled fuck.

“The commission was really pissed when they found out. Do you remember how, sweetness? Right, I’ll tell you,” said Hawks, running an ungloved hand through his hair before shaking it loose. “You remember up to the press conference with the faceplant. Short version is that you hated me for a good year before something clicked. You started acting awkward whenever I was around, avoiding me, and stuff. Sometimes getting red. I thought it was cute.”

You ducked your head. Flustered. He probably likes easily flustered women.

Wait. That’s not who you are. And he’d like you for who you are, if you’re engaged.

But at the same time, if you’re (gag) in love with him, wouldn’t you be flustered by some of the things he says?

Easy, baby. Take it as it comes. Pick your battles. Go with your gut.

And gut says make Hawks eat shit.

“You think I’m cute?”

“I know you’re cute.”

You’re going to stuff his own feathers down his throat.

“We got together at that dinner Endeavor’s agency sponsored. Do you remember that at all? That place with the purple lights. You’d gotten nervous from the crowd and had gone to take some of your anxiety meds. I caught you in the hall back from the bathroom and talked you down before going back out there.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’d like to say I’m the one who kissed you, but you took initiative before I had the guts.”

Funny. Hilarious, in fact. That was the night Hawks had solidified himself as the Biggest Dick in the World, because yeah, he’d caught you in the purple-lit hallway, but he’d caught you on the way to take your meds, not on the way back. You were talking yourself down from a panic attack and couldn’t argue him away, so he’d followed you into the bathroom, running his mouth and acting like it was an accident when the tip of his wing had knocked your two capsules down the sink.

He’d told you that if you’re a big girl, you’d be able to handle the rest of the night. Or you could leave at any time with him, and he’d make excuses that everyone would have to accept.

Honestly, you’d love to let his fake memory be true, because then, you’d be able to wear purple again without feeling queasy.

Cocking your head, you smiled. “That doesn’t sound like something I would do.”

Hawks let out a light laugh, craning his neck to rest his head on the back of the sofa. “That’s what you said that night, too. About how it felt out of character.”

“Was I good?”

Lifting his head, he raised an eyebrow at you: probably the first genuine emotion he’s shown you the whole time he’s been here. “Hm?”

“When I kissed you. Was it good,” you asked flatly.

“Oh,” Hawks said, his wings puffing out just barely, “Oh, sweetheart, you were amazing. Groundbreaking. Show-stopping.” His tongue flicked over his lower lip, and he shifted underneath your legs, leaning slightly towards you but holding eye contact before carrying on.

You shook your head. “I don’t have the energy to give you the makeout session you deserve,” you said, envisioning drowning him in the bathtub, “I’m exhausted. Forgive me.”

“Always,” said Hawks, “Want me to keep going?”

“You can hardly eat me out when we haven’t kissed yet.”

“I meant,” said Hawks, pausing to visibly swallow (was it real?), “about our relationship, but if you wanna eat—”

“Nah, keep going. So, I started the relationship? I must be crazy. Neither of us have fucking time to sleep, let alone be in a relationship.”

Hawks never shut up about how he was taking time out of his endlessly packed days to spend time with you, how time was precious to him, and if he’s spending time with you, why, then, you’d better pay up, bitch (always accompanied with his hands on his belt, subtly pointing his thumbs towards his cock).

Hawks shrugged with his wings instead of his shoulders. Interesting. Has he ever done that before? “The commission said that, but after I insisted we’d make time, they relented. Eventually,” said Hawks, jerking his head to the side, “Our quirks don’t exactly fit well, so we haven’t worked with each other professionally too often, and, of course, we’ve had to hide our relationship so that we can’t be a public weak spot to each other. Plus, we’re more marketable as eligible, young heroes.”

“Fuck the market,” you said, slumping into the pillows.

“There’s my girl,” said Hawks, grinning with his tongue caught between his teeth, “There’s her spark. I know, baby. I feel the same way, but being made into libidinous body pillows pays the bills, y’know?”

Nodding, you brought one of the couch pillows around for you to hug, and you smushed your chin into it. “Hawks,” you said, so quietly you almost couldn’t be heard over the A/C kicking on, “How long have we been engaged?”

“Four months,” he said, his grin unconsciously fading until he was essentially baring his teeth, “Since the twentieth.”

Taking a moment, you said, “I can’t remember anything at all.”

“That’s okay. It’ll come back.”

“No, I can’t—” You slid your hands through your hair, pulling at it, and you heaved a sigh. “Goddammit, Hawks. I wish I could—fuck. I’m missing something huge. I know I am.” Make him nervous. Make him lie awake at night. “I’m sorry, Hawks. It’s probably something really important, and I—”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh, it’s all right,” said Hawks, and he stood to lean over you, his hands rising to cup your face, and holy shit, his hands cover so much of your skin; is that legal? He’s got hands. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ve had a big day. Turn your brain off. I’ll take care of you.”

Red flag! Big, red flag! Creep! He’s a creep!

Your gaze fell to his jacket pockets. Does he carry date rape drugs on his person?

“Hawks, I don’t wanna inconvenience you any more than I have.”

“I’m your fiancé,” said Hawks, actually looking you straight in the eyes and not breaking, “I want to take care of you.”

“Sure, in the way the mob takes care of people.”

Hawks’s mouth opened slightly, and his eyes narrowed.

Cover it up. “I’m not sorry. I don’t trust your cooking. You’ll poison my spaghetti!” You made a dumb gesture, pinching your fingers together. “Have you seen The Godfather? There’s actually a pretty legit spaghetti recipe in it; it’s not too bad, but it’s kind of watery—”

Hawks brought your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles and let his lips linger. “Watch it with me?”

You shook your head. “I’m too tired. I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll join you.”

“No,” you said, “My bed’s not made with your wings in mind.” Fuck off to your own little sex next, Hawks. Get out of here. “If they got hurt, it’d be my fault. Go sleep in your own bed, all right?” Go home. Get mugged on the way.

Hawks sighed, blowing his hair out of his eyes. “If you insist. But you’ve gotta reach out to me for anything you have trouble with, yeah? Memories, opening jars, orgasms, you know.”

“I’m leaving,” you said, reaching for your crutches, “Ten minutes ago.”

***

“You didn’t tell me how you proposed.”

Hawks froze mid-bite of his ramen, but after a quick beat, he slurped the rest of the noodle up. “I was hoping you’d recall that on your own, baby. Get your own feelings about it, instead of me telling you how to feel.”

If you weren’t faking amnesia, you’d fucking break his nose for that. Bastard.

“I imagine once you tell me, the feelings will rush in,” you said, clicking your chopsticks twice for emphasis, “I want to remember everything, and if I don’t, well, I want to fall in love with you again.”

Hawks’s gaze glazed over for an infinitesimal moment. Score.

“It’ll sound goofy once I describe it.” With his wings cramped against the back of the booth, Hawks scratched the back of his neck—a classic move for pretending to be embarrassed. “I’m not exactly known for being romantic.”

Yeah, he’s known for fooling around with anyone who’s glittery, like a goddamn crow. If you’re paying attention.

“Aw, but Hawks, you’ve been nothing but so effortlessly romantic to me since I’ve been convalescing,” you said, rolling up the paper wrapper of your straw and soaking it in the ring your cup left on the table.

“Right, well. I flew us out to the countryside, to this overlook halfway up a mountain. You liked going rappelling there a lot. To practise for missions.” Hawks had some of your habits down, at least. Bet he gets the location wrong, though. “We watched the sunrise. We shared a thermos of tea. I asked you once the sun had risen, but you didn’t say yes right away,” said Hawks, “You jumped off the overlook without your gear, and I caught you. You were furious about it—you didn’t want me to see you overwhelmed. But you said yes.”

Ugh. That sounded about right. That sounded pretty realistic. Hawks was a fucking stalker.

“Fuck,” you said, burying your face in your hands, “That’s cute.” You stretched the skin of your cheeks before releasing, and you returned to your ramen. “Question: did we put the ring into storage, or something? I don’t have the little indent on my ring finger from wearing a ring too long, and I haven’t found anything at home.” Make him sweat. Make him stumble. Where’s the ring, Hawks?

With a flash of his eyebrows, Hawks maneuvered his straw to his mouth using only his lips, looking quite stupid, in your opinion. “Figured you’d ask that at some point. I’m so overjoyed to see you every time that I forget to bring it up. The ring’s been sent off to a high-level, government-backed, support company. I’ve pulled in a favour from the higher-ups. I wanted to turn your ring into something a little more personal and incorporate one of my feathers into it,” said Hawks, taking a moment to slurp his drink noisily, “Depending on how well it goes, I’d be able to help you if we’re separated and know where you are. At the very least—” Hawks ducked his head to give the illusion of staring up at you with wide eyes, his blond eyelashes light against his skin. “—I’d be able to feel your heartbeat. It would bring me great comfort.”

Great, so he’d have a GPS on you at all times, knowing whether or not you went somewhere he didn’t want you to. He’d be able to tell if you went somewhere your non-amnesia self would know about. Great. Phenomenal.

“Hawks, that’s very sweet,” you said, fiddling with the remnants of your straw wrapper, now fizzled out of its snake shape, “Wouldn’t the process hurt you, though? Since you can feel it.”

“Nothing more than a twinge, sweetheart,” said Hawks, holding up his hands, “And I’d bear any amount of pain for your sake.”

You fantasised about beating his head in with the back end of a rifle.

***

When you were told Hawks was waiting for you outside of the recording booth, you told the messenger that Hawks could wait until you were finished with five more takes. You could picture Hawks’s little pout at the news, his feathers bristling despite the closed space, and resigning himself to sit in one of those clangy, metal chairs out front, having to hunch forward so that he didn’t crush his wings.

The idol group adored the ingenuity of bone-crunching as percussion in a song, and along with that and some other combat foley, you were singing the bridge with the rapper of the group (the dance captain would sing your part for live shows). It’d be a good promo for the girl group and for you, and the song, “Spine,” was going to be released as a single as soon as it was polished.

Hawks perked up the moment you stepped through the secondary door to the booth, his eyes brightening and wings spreading to take up more space. “I didn’t think I’d catch you,” said Hawks, standing to take your hands (the cold leather gloves sucked the heat out of your hands), “I’ve got to fly, soon, but I wanted to tell you personally.”

“You’re not pregnant,” you said, fighting the urge to break his goggles/visor/hat thing.

His lopsided grin widened. “Not yet, baby. There’s gonna be a heroes’ gala held at the end of the month, and I wanted to let you know that I’m doing everything in my power to make it a positive experience for you. Here, I’ve got this woman’s phone number,” he said, fishing a slip of paper out of his jacket, “She’ll help accommodate the venue for your leg.”

Stupid fucking bastard man. He probably wanted to pick out your clothes himself, infantilise you and dress you up like a goddamn doll. Deny you your personhood. “I’ll be out of the cast by then.” You slid the paper into your back pocket.

“I know,” Hawks said in a way that was a fucking lie, “I just don’t want there to be any accidents. I can’t have my babygirl any more hurt than she is.” Hawks placed his cold, gloved hand against your cheek, and you, shutting your eyes, made yourself lean into it. “But contact her. She’ll make it the safest place it can be for you, even when I have to leave your side.”

God, galas were great. Big events for villains to ruin. You licked your lips thinking about using a new move you’ve learnt to take a villain down (involving clamping your legs around the villain’s neck to choke him as he crumpled to the floor—your combat coach had banned you from the move after you made her pass out). “Are we announcing our engagement, then? If we’re going together?”

“I’d love to,” said Hawks, “but only if you want to. The ring could be ready by then, if I ask them to rush it—”

“Let’s do it.” If you plunged the ring into icy water, would he start to shiver? Ooh, your ring’s going to act as a fucking bay leaf in your soups for a while.

“Oh,” said Hawks, sighing lightly with his eyes fluttering shut. He pressed his forehead to yours and rubbed his thumb over your cheek. “You have no idea how much that means to me, sweetheart. You are so dear to me, and I want everyone to know it. The best damn thing in my life. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, placing your hand on his face to push him away, “Don’t you have work to do, screw boy?”

***

“Did we have a date?” you asked from the edge of the bathtub.

Hawks dipped the razor in the water, washing off the hair and shaving cream. “We’ve gone on so many, darling; you’ll have to specify.”

“No, I meant for the wedding.” Let’s once again play: Can Hawks Cover His Own Ass?

Hawks dragged the razor down your freshly exfoliated, freshly-un-casted, freshly not-broken leg, starting at your knee. “Nope!”

“No explanation?”

“You wanna get married tomorrow? A six-month engagement is rather short, don’t you think?” His nose twitched. He’d said the scent of your shaving cream irritated his nose. Good.

“I don’t. Why didn’t we have a date for the wedding?” You eyed the actual and literal pile of your dead skin on the towel. Maybe you should make Hawks snort it.

“We were too busy working; you’d said you didn’t mind having a long engagement, so long as I was yours. Then, uh, you know. The accident,” Hawks said with a shrug—with his shoulders this time, because if he moved his wings while he was crouched in your bathtub, he’d soak them, and they were a bitch to dry, apparently. Suffer, you rat bastard.

“The commission isn’t involved in that decision?”

“I thought that was implied,” said Hawks, gripping your ankle to turn your calf to the side, “They don’t want it to be a huge spectacle, so even I don’t know how much of a wedding wedding they’d let us have.”

He’s too damn good at this. If he weren’t a pro-hero, he’d fit right along in a theatre troupe.

You’re going to wring his neck.

You caught him staring at the crotch of your underwear (bone-dry, you might add) while he shaved your thighs, and he spent more time rubbing lotion into your inner thighs than anywhere else. He tossed your dead skin before you could make him eat it, and he scooped you up against your protestations about your weight and capability, humming while he carried you to your bed.

The fucker tucked you in and rounded up your cat to place in your arms (your cat disagreed with him and promptly leapt off the bed).

“Let me stay with you,” said Hawks, kissing each of your fingertips. It’s an order.

Yet you shook your head.

***

“The doctors said you shouldn’t drink,” Hawks said under his breath, taking the champagne flute gently from your grasp.

“But I want to,” you said, sticking out your lower lip, “I’m wearing goddamn heels and a fucking dress. I’ve got on makeup, for Christ’s sake. I’ve done my time; let me drink.”

“Baby, you’ve got to stay safe,” he said, and he set the glass next to some 40s-level hero’s place at the long, white tablecloth. “There’s already press paying more attention to us than usual. You wanna make a fool of yourself?”

“Yes,” you said, lifting another champagne flute from a passing gala waiter, “Who gives a shit about the press.”

Hawks laughed too loudly to be natural before lowering his voice. “Baby, you are gonna be the death of me.”

“Promise?”

***

When “Spine” was released on a cool, spring morning to an excitable audience, you were lurking in alleyways by the docks, searching for a fight. When the music video dropped, you were smashing some guy’s face into a concrete wall. While more and more citizens recognised you and your talent, your work for the community, your connections, your popularity—with your rank steadily rising—you were rappelling down a port sewer to pummel a slime villain into dust.

You wiped his blood off on your pants, hands devoid of anything that could taint. You’d left the ring at home.

***

“You tricked me,” you said, scowling as Hawks pushed you forward, “This isn’t the rock climbing park.”

Once you deliberately smashed your face into the glass door and crossed your arms, Hawks held the door open for you. “Would you have dressed up so nicely for rock climbing?”

“A meta-game challenge,” you said, “to rock-climb in a long skirt.”

You glowered about the restaurant while you and Hawks stood in the lobby, his hand low on your back, suspiciously respectfully. You made no effort to hide your distaste: it was the place with the purple lights.

Over there at the absurdly long bar, Endeavor had drunk flat whisky without so much of a growl at anyone, despite it being his event. Hexagonal tables with lilac tablecloths dotted the floor—you’d hidden in one of the few booths, up against the exposed brick wall—but your hiding place had been ruined once a violet disco ball had emerged from the ceiling. Shiny, wooden floor that had reflected your post-panic attack face right back at you and let every shoe strike it with a clatter. No silence allowed.

The whole restaurant had lavender LED lights running around the walls, swathing the place in a distorted sort of purple haze, and any candles lit on the centre tables had indigo flames—you’d focused on how those might have been made in the process of coming down from your panic attack.

God. You’re going to throw up.

The hostess escorted you and Hawks to a farther back room, this one with booths separated by small, brick walls that didn’t reach the ceiling yet concealed the booths’ occupants from each other—unless you were passing directly in front of one.

Hawks made you sit in the booth first, trapping you in as he settled. He had to be on the edge, anyway, he told you, because of his wings. You’re going to rip them off and boil them in the soup.

The two of you ordered. You don’t remember what. You can only channel so much of your nerves into jostling your leg. This is not cool. This place is not cool. You need to get out.

“Hey, let me through,” you said, nudging Hawks, “Bathroom.”

Once there, you lightly slapped your cheeks a couple of times, trying to ground yourself through physical sensation. No use. Can’t they fucking use normal lights in this place?

You didn’t have your panic meds, because you’ve never needed them rock climbing. You can do it. You’re fine. You’re fine. Your tongue is too big for your mouth.

You took your time meandering back to the booth, coming to a halt at the end of the narrow hallway and ducking behind the corner.

Endeavor stood by your booth, his arms crossed over a flaming chest. You caught your breath at the sight of his orange fire, a comforting contrast to all the damn purple, but still—Endeavor. Talking to your (gag) fiancé.

Without the courage to interact with Endeavor, you listened at the corner for his departure.

“Nah, she can handle her bladder just fine. It’s her nerves,” Hawks was saying, hidden by the bricks, “She likes hiding. She doesn’t necessarily like being in the spotlight.”

“Yet she hasn’t completely withdrawn as Eraserhead has. You’ve picked a strange one to marry.”

From the angle Endeavor glared at him, Hawks must be slumping in his seat. “But that’s what so great about her. And it’s hard to process, y’know, like, she’s finally mine. You follow?”

“Regrettably,” said Endeavor, “Regardless, I offer my congratulations that your courtship finally worked out in your favour. You should have told me sooner.”

Courtship. That’s a funny way to pronounce bullying.

“Eh, I’ve gotta have some secrets, don’t I? Can’t betray my otherwise cool exterior.” Hawks laughed. “I can’t believe I’ve been allowed such happiness. The woman I’ve loved for years is gonna be waking up to me every day soon, y’know?”

Hawks has got to know you can hear him, otherwise he wouldn’t be saying those things. Endeavor must be in on Hawks’s ruse, since Endeavor is Hawks’s closest—actually, Endeavor isn’t the type to revel in romantic shit. Endeavor straight-up isn’t the type to revel. To the best of your knowledge, Endeavor doesn’t genuinely like Hawks as so much as tolerates him; when did they get so close? It must have taken a long time—

Time.

You could feel your IQ dropping as you actually considered: had you been in a legitimate coma? Had you (fuck) genuinely had amnesia?

No, no. You don’t live in Crazytown. Your eyebrows hadn’t been overgrown when you’d woken up in the hospital. You’d only been there a day.

Of course, Hawks is a vain piece of shit and does his own eyebrows, so he might have considered that yours were a piece of pride/insecurity for you and may have done them while you were—did Hawks do his own eyebrows? That spoiled fuck probably had someone else to do them for him. If they were naturally like that, you were going to throttle his ass.

You didn’t fucking have amnesia. Hawks is and always has been a stupid, clammy birdbrain. He’s always been cruel to you. He didn’t fucking like you.

He sure as hell wasn’t in fucking love with you.

Oh, my fuck, what if your memories of Hawks have been fabricated by a coma-addled mind and that—

“Hey, there,” said—said someone, some pale-ass, sleep-deprived freak who startled you out of your head, “Are you all right? You look—I mean, do you need some water? A chair?”

You blinked, yet he wouldn’t come into focus—you were taking in details about him, ones that didn’t fucking matter (chain on his wallet, three rings all on the left hand, a button-down missing the last button, a cloud of axe body spray), but he didn’t register as a human person. He couldn’t; you hadn’t grounded yourself yet. You yourself still had a frazzled, cartoon scribble buzzing inside of your chest, and until you vomited it up, a panic attack may yet still happen.

You can’t deal with anyone new right now.

A spark of recognition crossed the new guy’s face, and he, through a smirk, asked if you were your hero name.

Oh god oh fuck not now

“Sweetheart,” came Hawks’s melodious drawl (registering first his voice, then bodily warmth, then the wingtip covering your ass), “You were taking so long that I came to check on you.” He pulled you by the waist towards him, blocking the guy from seeing your face by pressing it into his chest. “Who’s this?”

Who cares. All you could focus on (sharp and overwhelming, nothing else but) was how fucking incredible Hawks smelled, and at this point, you’d use anything to bring yourself back down to earth. A small voice in the back of your head told you that freaking out to this degree in this particular situation was leaning towards pathetic, since basically nothing happened, besides being in an uncomfortable environment and being accosted by a fan at the wrong time, but you? You did not control the rate at which your brain panicked.

And really, no rhyme or reason played into why your grabby little hands itched for human contact once safe in the booth again, why Hawks’s scent lay on your tongue more heavily than your soup, why the overwhelming sensation of being so fucking spaced out of it threw its entire weight upon your shoulders—you couldn’t find yourself. You were lost.

And in this horrible, purple place, the only thing that’s familiar was Hawks.

When you scooted as closely as you could to him in the booth, keeping your glare towards your lap while you looped your arm under his to snuggle into it, Hawks cleared his throat to say, “What’s this?”

You scowled into his jacket, both hands gripping his forearm.

He set his chopsticks down. “How can I help, darling?”

Growling, you bonked your forehead against his shoulder, dragging your hands down to his.

“Hey,” said Hawks, and he guided your face towards his and stroked your cheek with his thumb, “Did that guy bother you too much before I got there?”

Turning your mouth towards the hand cupping your cheek, you kissed his palm, bit the leather, and kissed it again before burying yourself in his shoulder again.

He rested his hand on the crown of your head. “What’s the matter? Can you tell me?”

“Not sure I can put it into words,” you said, “I think I wanna go home.” You bit the fabric of his jacket and gnashed it between your teeth.

“I can handle that,” said Hawks, “Gimme a moment to get takeaway boxes, yeah? Then we’ll leave, and you’ll be safe. Don’t worry.”

Unfortunately, you were still clutching onto his arm by the time he unlocked his darkened penthouse (because you’re not gonna hold his hand. God), but you slapped his hand away from the light switches.

“Turning them on would be too much stimulation,” you said, “Please don’t.”

Hawks hummed against the top of your head, placing keys and both of your phones on the kitchen counter. “Bed or couch?”

“Window,” you said.

“Window?”

“I’m assuming you’ve got one.”

“I do,” said Hawks, guiding you through his dark apartment, probably past scarily expensive, posh shit. He led you to what was most likely his living room, with the cool, dim light of the night sky through a vast, single-frame, wall-to-floor window illuminating furniture custom built for his wings, but he eased you down onto the carpet, tugging your shirt upwards so that the window would be touching your bare skin on the small of your back.

Hawks yanked his boots off, late, instead of at the door, and he tossed them over his shoulder. He took yours off, too, and once he’d set them aside, he sat next to you against the window, a hand on your thigh.

“Better?”

“Probably,” you said, staring at the triangle of light beige carpet between your crossed legs.

“Need me to talk? You need to talk?”

“Not right now.”

Hawks was a dumbass. He’s such a fucking dumbass. But he’s a dumbass who’s here right now, and he’s interested (?) in you, interested in helping you. And good golly, you have to be touched. Hawks’s offering warmth, freely, potentially lovingly, and all you had to do was reach out to take it, even if you didn’t reciprocate whatever sentiment was motivating him yourself.

Do you really want to take what you have no feelings for?

Hawks lies a lot to Endeavor. To everyone. He might not have been lying earlier. What reason had he to lie?

Guess it didn’t matter, because you were lying.

But good God, you haven’t been kissed in a long time. Haven’t felt safe or loved. You could…you could indulge for a few hours in order to calm down. You could pretend.

The last ten months had proved that.

“Hey,” you said idly, reaching out to grab the inner fleece lining of his jacket to rub it between your fingers, “Hawks, I’m gonna—I’m gonna put my mouth on your mouth. Okay?”

Hawks’s wings ruffled and constricted themselves so that he could move closer to you, and his hand has migrated from your thigh to grip your hip—how could anyone’s hands encompass that much of you? Your fucking hands couldn’t, not in the way his does.

(Bird man big and safe.)

([No, fuck you, don’t think that.])

(BIRD MAN SAFE—)

Shoved is how you’d describe the first few seconds of the kiss, followed closely by wet and you’d think his teeth would be sharper. Your lips didn’t line up with his completely until he adjusted your chin with two of his fingers, guiding it open just barely, as well, so that his tongue could graze your teeth—it took you a moment of processing before parting them, with a final don’t think! shouted to your neocortex.

Birds have a higher body temperature than other animals, on average having a body temperature of 105 degrees Fahrenheit (40 degrees Celsius). The colour of their feathers, of course, affects how much light and heat they absorb, with the lighter coloured feathers—say, red—reflecting more, rejecting outside heat sources.

Yet Hawks gripped you like he’d fucking freeze if he weren’t clutching you, if he weren’t straddling your legs, one palm flat against the cool of the window by your head. The other snaked around you, his forearm lying almost vertically up your back to press down between your shoulder blades, keeping you as near to his chest (he probably didn’t realise it, but his fingers ran across the curve of your shoulder blades where his wings were on his own body.

For some reason, the thought crossed your mind that you weren’t enough for him, because you were too dissimilar.)

Don’t think!

When he massaged your tongue with his, applying pressure sporadically, you returned the action—have you ever seen a bird tongue up close? They’re fucking nasty little things, looking more like a grub than anything else. Thank God Hawks had a normal, human tongue that performed particularly delightful, normal things, like drag across the roof of your mouth and aid in sucking phenomenal hickeys onto your jawline, licking over where he’s bitten and kissed.

Stop thinking about bird anatomy. Hawks has no discernible bird traits except for his fucking wings. He’s not a fucking bird man. He’s just some dude with wings. And not all birds have functional wings; for example, the ostrich and the penguin do not have wings to be used in flight—

Oh, my fuck. Turn your brain off.

Your stomach lurched. That had been something Hawks had told you too often, back before your accident.

It’s what he wants.

Hawks fucking whimpered when you pulled the shorter hairs at the back of his neck, prying him away from your skin with great difficulty—he kept trying to touch you with his mouth and tongue in the process.

“Let me have more,” he said, panting, his breath heavy and just below your ear, “Please.” He pressed his lips to the spot in front of your ear in a weak kiss, having spent himself for the most part. “I’ve missed you so much, baby. I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me for so long.”

“I don’t—” You fake-stuttered, but it turned out you needed the time to put your thoughts into words. “I don’t think I’m back yet. I’m,” you said, taking as deep a breath as you could with Hawks smushed against your chest, “Something’s missing. Something big.” That’s right. Steer it back in his direction. Make the bird man sweat. “I don’t—something doesn’t feel right.”

It took a moment, but Hawks nodded fervently, shutting his eyes. “Of course. Yeah. Yeah, I get it, sweetheart. Can’t do anything when your heart’s not in it.”

Your heart’s not the problem. “Thank you for being so understanding, Hawks,” you said, untangling yourself from underneath him, “Would you just, uh, hold me for a while?”

His wings wrapped around the both of you on his enormous bed, still fluttering with each slow breath he took. Hawks almost looked genuine while he slept, and probably for the best—at least he was getting rest; at least his guard might be down.

You couldn’t sleep. Your mind was racing.

***

“Rank speculation is out,” you said, scrubbing the pumice stone over a patch of dry skin on Hawks’s back and scrolling through the twitter with your other hand, “Take a look.”

He opened the link you sent once he’d safely removed a dead feather that had been lodged in an odd spot in a wing. “Huh. Think I could truly take on Endeavor?”

“Well, he’s got that abusive-to-his-family thing, while you’re rocking the preparing-for-my-wedding look, and he can’t network non-aggressively to save his life.”

“Nor can you.” Hawks shot you a smirk over his shoulder.

“Zoom in on my speculated nine, baby,” you said, flicking away some dead skin with a satisfied/disgusted sneer, “And I didn’t have to sleep my way there.”

“Ah, ha, ha,” said Hawks, “Knew you could do it. Whoever’s told you that is gonna have to deal with my foot up their ass. You’re more than capable of getting there on your own.”

“Which I did. I have.” Wait. Hawks told you that. No, it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s a commonly said, misogynistic comment towards women heroes. Hawks isn’t special. “But having your foot up someone’s ass wouldn’t be good for PR, unless you wanted to advertise that you’re a kinky son of a bitch who’s cheating on his fiancée.”

“I would never,” said Hawks, and, contorting his arm, he grabbed your hand with the pumice stone to kiss the back of it, “But my PR is solid, regardless.”

“If the public knew how much time you had to spend preening these fucking wings, they’d probably appreciate you more. Or call you conceited.”

Hawks hummed. “It’s a necessary evil,” he said, returning to his wingtip to search for dead feathers. “Thank you for helping.”

“No problem. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t get to see how—Hawks, holy fuck. Do you feel that?” You ran a finger near the base of a wing.

“It’s your finger?”

“No, this,” you said, tapping the spot.

“No?”

“My God. It’s a dilated pore of a winer,” you said, already reaching for the tweezers, “Right at the base of your wing. It’s basically an enormous fucking blackhead. I’m popping it. Oh, my God. I’ve never seen one in real life.”

“You’re popping it?”

“You didn’t have a problem with my getting the ones where your costume sits.”

“No,” said Hawks, rolling back his shoulders, his wings spreading with them, “Gotcha. Get on with it.”

“Can I film it?”

“What? No,” said Hawks, “No one can see me preening, let alone dealing with acne.”

“There’s sure to be another hero out there with a wing quirk, right? I don’t know how you can’t feel it.”

“Yeah,” Hawks said slowly, “Since my feathers can feel—I suppose where the wings merge with my skin is pretty numb. I haven’t ever had to think about it.” He licked his lips. “Funny.”

He continued to scroll through his feed and tend to his feathers while you worked at his back. “Bad news: the tabloids got a hold of our grocery list from the last time we went to the shops. I must have dropped it at some point in the store.”

“Oh, so do they know what kind of ice cream we prefer? The horror.”

“No, but they’ve brought in some hack handwriting analyst. Talking about our annotations for each other on the list. Something about how you’re logical and I’m a romantic. The writer of the article is practically swooning.” Hawks pulled out a clot of feathers with his teeth and spat them aside. “With good reason, though. The trashy pictures they snapped of us are hot.”

“Describe them to me.”

“I can show you—”

“No,” you said, concentrating on your work, “I don’t want the image imprinted on my brain. Describe them in your own words.”

“All right,” said Hawks, crossing his legs and placing his phone on the coffee table in front of him, “To start, the flash is on.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. We’ve got that distantly surprised look going on. It looks like we’re near the eggs and cheese. You’re not looking at the camera, but I believe it’s in the moment I caught it.” Hawks flicked away a feather and let it fall to the carpet. “My hand’s on your waist. The other’s on the cart. You’ve scrunched your face up in concentration; it’s really cute.”

“Aw, we should get it framed,” you said, wiping away the gunk with a tissue and wadding it up so that no one will ever have to see or touch it ever again.

“Never,” said Hawks, “The first picture of us I wanna get framed should be on our wedding day.”

“It’s coming along quickly,” you said, setting aside the tweezers, “Bit more quickly than I’d thought it would.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait,” said Hawks with a light laugh, and you ducked to rest your head against his shoulder, straining your neck to reach him over his wing.

Hawks clicked his non-nasty, non-bird tongue. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Sighing, you said, “Turn your head this way.”

He did you one better, since he anticipated your plan. He twisted around, keeping his legs crossed as he pulled you into his lap. His wings initially bristled but wrapped around you when his arms did, and Hawks kissed your cheek, once, twice, until he arrived at your mouth, where he barely grazed your lips, rather letting his hot breath spread over your face—and he grinned up at you with half-lidded eyes (he’d left off his eyeliner today, but the natural marks below his waterline kept his eyes sharp, anyway).

“Kiss me, you fucking idiot,” you said, overriding whatever he was about to do by kissing him yourself, hard and open-mouthed, almost violent in its fervent. Yet Hawks held you lightly, delicately, but still close enough to freeze.

You ran your cold, cold hands over his bare abdomen, pressing your thumb down with considerable force to trace his muscles (he grunted at that, and that’s it; that’s right—make him squirm; make him sweat; make him yours). His finger only toyed with the hem of his shirt that you were wearing, as if waiting for you, which didn’t line up with what you had garnered about Hawks at all, but c’mon, man, come on; didn’t you want this all those months ago? Almost a year, now? Years, if what he said to Endeavor is true? But when he flinched away with a shaky breath once your cold fingers circled his nipple, you knew this was where you were supposed to be: right here, in Hawks’s lap, completely destroying him with hardly anything at all. Nothing but light touches and a strategic flick of your tongue. Idiot man. He must really like you if this is doing it for him.

You slowed and opened your eyes at that thought, frowning, and you pulled away. With the back of his hand, Hawks wiped saliva off of both of your mouths, yours first.

He waited for you.

“If you can’t take all of me, then what’s the point?”

He tilted his head. “I’ll take whatever part of you you’re willing to share.”

“I’m missing something.”

“I know.”

“I want to find it before we get married.” You laid your palm flat on his chest, and he grinned at the cold.

“You can find it,” he said, “I know you can.”

“I don’t know what I’m blocking out,” you said, lying—or maybe you weren’t? Fuck it. “Whatever I’m repressing is really fucking with me.”

“Take your time,” said Hawks, running his tongue over his lower lip. “I’m here for—”

“Hawks,” you said, faking the light of realisation in your eyes, accompanied with a sharp inhale, “I can’t remember your name.”

Hawks’s mouth snapped shut.

“You told me once. I know you did,” you said, moving to cup his cheek after tapping the mark underneath his eye, “but the memory—there’s a blur where you spoke. I—” You cut yourself off, biting your lip. “That, that might be it. I don’t know. Everything else about the scene is in perfect detail. I remember what fucking socks I was wearing, for Christ’s sake. But you. What you said. Maybe it’s something so personal, so intimate, that I’ve repressed it. Maybe it was too much for me to handle.” You cupped his face with both hands now, forcing him to look at you. If you hadn’t been scrutinising him for some evidence of breaking character, you wouldn’t’ve seen the minute quivering of his upper lip. Hardly there, but it was there. “It’s a part of you that I want. Even if I couldn’t handle it before, I want to try now.”

Hawks averted his gaze, even though he couldn’t move his head. And bang, you’ve got him. Hawks’s name was still strictly secret, hidden by the commission, but if he’s genuinely in this dumbass situation for the long haul, if he’s truly in it for you, then he would have told you. Even if he wanted you to continue to call him Hawks, your own fiancé would have told you his damn name.

So, this is it. The way out.

Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out you’ve been faking all this time. Good. Let each feather burn.

“Keigo,” he said, staring into your eyes with a newfound determination, “My name is Takami Keigo.”

Oh, shit—you clapped a hand over your heart, your eyes widening. Maybe you could play this off as memory recovery instead of absolute shock? But you hadn’t any memories to recover, probably. Holy fuck.

Where do you go from here?

You tried to say his name but ended up simply mouthing it, and after clearing your throat and coughing a bit, you managed to say it aloud. “Keigo,” you said softly, reaching for his hand, “Keigo, I fucking love you.”

You’d only been kissing him for a few moments before his wings shuddered in a muscle spasm and flung you off to the side.

***

Only a commission higher-up witnessed your wedding. She stood silently to the side the entire ceremony in the courthouse and only shook Hawks’s hand afterwards.

You and your cat essentially moved into his penthouse and adjusted. Your mostly empty apartment stayed leased under your name.

Sometimes, you’d note that you turned your brain off and instantly be hit with a lightning strike of self-loathing—but you didn’t have to consciously decide to be affectionate with Hawks. Being with him came naturally and easily. Probably for the best, since if you had to think about it, you’d screw it up.

You stayed together. Supported each other. Sneaked out to see the other on patrol. Took care, listened to each other. Defended each other. Worked it out.

And now, you stared up at the ceiling fan whirling in your darkened bedroom, Keigo lying on his stomach next to you in the bed as he slept. Your cat catloafed between his wings and nestled into them, rising and falling with each breath he took. Hawks was perfect, always saving the day, working up a routine to mesh with your fighting style and quirk, always charming and easygoing with the people he rescued, indulging you in your ferocity, and Keigo, Keigo whispered sweet and dirty things into your ear when he spotted you in public, made you laugh, worked wonders with his cock, helped you clean up before he even thought of preening himself, held you, and made you feel held. He’s got it bad.

And maybe you do, too.

Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out.

#bnha #mha #hawks #keigo takami #takami keigo #hawks x reader #hawks/reader #hawks imagine #hawks fic #hawks headcanons #hawks fanfic #hawks fanfiction #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo/reader #takami keigo imagine #takami keigo fic #takami keigo headcanons #takami keigo fanfiction #takami keigo fanfic

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writing-with-olive · 3 years

Text

The Stonewall Riots of 1969

1) Current State of Being (it was not good, fam, not good)

To set the scene, we’re in the late sixties. We’ve won the second World War, and suddenly everyone’s dealing with the fact that the patriotic frenzy America has been whipped into isn’t really having the same purpose it used to. Thing is, everyone’s still really heated along the basic lines of DEATH TO COMMUNISM AND ALSO COMMUNISTS. During the war, this was helpful. It created a sense of unity. But once the war was over, attention turned inward.

At this time, there was also research that queer people were "sex perverts" and a government report even came out saying

"The lack of emotional stability which is found in most sex perverts and the weakness of their moral fiber, makes them susceptible to the blandishments of the foreign espionage agent [...] the pervert is easy prey to the blackmailer.

This same report also cited a case of a gay man "who's homosexuality was used by the Russians [who were communist] to recruit him as a double agent before world war 1." Basically, the overall gist was that gay people were believed to either be communists now, or they would become communists because their brains were weaker.

Alrighty, but why were they easy prey? First, when it came to communism, they were just as susceptible as anyone else, but after steep laws against queer people were passed, blackmail became pretty real.

So... yeah, let's talk about a couple laws that were in place in the late sixties, shall we?

For the crime of sleeping with a consenting partner in the privacy of your own home you could face anything from:

A light fine

Five, ten or twenty years in prison

A life sentence

Electrical shock therapy

Castration

In addition, to target trans people, police had also dug out a law from the nineteenth century that was originally passed to supress angry tenant farmers who would don disguises and demonstrate against their landlords (law found in subsection 4 of section 240.35 of the New York Penal Code). The law stated that individuals could not wear more than three items of clothing that did not match their assigned gender at birth.If an officer thought you were breaking this law, they could arrest you and take you to a bathroom or similarly private location and have an officer who matched your presented gender either do a strip search or pat you down there to see if things matched.

Things got especially bad when New York realized they’d have to “clean up the place” in preperation for hosting the World Fair. In part, this meant a heavy crackdown on the gay community, and by extention, gay bars.

2) The Genovese Crime Family and Stonewall

At around this time, the Mob was starting to notice that gay bars were an excelent source of profit - since the prohibition era (1920-1933), limited access bars and speakeasies had popped up everywhere and since the gay community already couldn’t be themselves on the streets, they retreated to these more sheltered locations.

Three mafia members decided to open a gay bar because ohhh boy could you rake in some serious profit. Combined, the three of them put up $3500 to “renovate” the Stonewall Inn (which had gone through itterations of being a straight nightclub, straight bar, and gay restaurant in a sort of irregular cycle).

Renovations included building a stage to dance on, painting the walls black, and getting a jukebox. No running water, no fire exit, just the bare minimum. It certainly wasn’t legal.

When they opened (as a bottle club to get around pesky liquor laws), the bouncer would look through a little slat in the door and if you had a codeword or looked sufficiently gay, he’d let you in. You then had to sign up to be a part of the club (about a dollar) and write your name down on a sheet of paper. Of course, no one wrote down their real names.

The liquor in question was stolen, to begin with, and then heavily watered down with... questionably clean water, and then sold at about three times the original price in half-cleaned glasses (glasses were dunked in a bucket and then reused). Since none of the patrons really had high expectations anyway, they went with it. Needless to say, however, Stonewall was not a particularly nice place to be.

With all the money the trio raked in, a cut had to go to the Mafia man who controlled the district, and another cut went to paying of the notoriously corrupt 6th Precinct, to avoid getting the whole place shut down.

Because they were payed off, the police would only conduct their mandated raids early in the night before things got going, and on weekdays - this was when there weren’t a ton of people there, and it was easy to make it look like nothing was amiss.

3) The Raid (this is where shit gets real)

First of all, the thing is - no one knows why it happened. It just.... did.

On June 28th, 1969, at about 2am, the night was in full swing. The bar was crammed full of people dancing and drinking. The air was stuffy as usual and quite dark.

Then the bright flourescent lights come on - the signal that there was a raid and to seperate and to look less gay. The police came through, and called that they were making arrests. Everyone needed to line up against the wall and have their ID’s ready. Of course this was an issue, because just about everyone was legally not supposed to be at stonewall.

As the police began taking people outside, a crowd was going - raids at this time were... unusual to say the least. Some of the queens went into the back of the police cars without much of a fight - obviously they were terrified, but it didn’t look like there was much they could do.

One of them, however, and no one knows who for sure, was having none of this. Though Marsha Johnson and Sylvia Rivera have both been suggested as the starter of the riot, both have denied it, saying it was someone else. Storme DeLarverie, however, has both accepted and denied it was her. In an interview where she confirmed herself as the starter, she described her reaction, saying:

“The cop said ‘Move f****t’, thinking that I was a gay guy. I said, ‘I will not! And, don’t you dare touch me.’ With that, the cop shoved me and I instinctively punched him right in the face. He bled! He was then dropping to the ground - not me!”

She then turned to the crowd and yelled “why don’t you all do something?”

This was when things transformed. Objects started to fly. It was like someone had just punched a hole through the dam holding back the collective anger of the queer community.

A lot of the queer street kids, homeless, desperate, and with nothing to lose, were at the forefront of the fight, throwing anything from stones to pennies to bottles. Here’s the thing: no one really liked Stonewall - it wasn’t particularly nice or inviting or anything like that, but it was THEIRS and they were going to fight like hell for it.

Those being pulled out of the Inn started fighting back too - throwing what they could, kicking, punching, pushing back against the police. Marsha Johnson, a woman some have referred to as “basically a lesbian superhero” even climbed a telephone pole and threw an unidentified heavy object at a police car, shattering the window.

It was chaos and the crowd was still building. The flying objects didn’t stop, and it wasn’t like anyone had great aim - they were just as likely to hit a fellow protester - but there was a sense of comraderie and it made the police nervous. They were calling for reinforcements, but none were coming.

Finally, one of the police chiefs decided they had to retreat into Stonewall. They grabbed a few people as hostages and dissapeared inside, and barricaded the door. The inside of the Stonewall Inn was a wreck. The jukebox had been smashed. Same with the stage, the bathroom mirrors, and the cash register. Broken furniture was strewn on the floor.

Outside, the rioters had yanked a parking meter out of the ground and were trying to bash their way through the door, using it like a battering ram. Each thud made the officers even more nervous, and the captain, realizing things could turn from bad to horrific and deadly commanded his officers not to shoot unless he shot first. He went up to each one, commanding them individually by name, saying that if they shot without his direct sayso, they would be spend the rest of their police careers with only the worst possible jobs. To their credit, no one shot.

Outside, reinforcements finally arrived, armed in full riot gear - helmets, plastic shields, those club/baton things. They came forward in a full on phalanx. Then it started getting really ugly. People ended up lying on the sidewalk with blood coming from their heads or injured in other ways. The crowd started falling back, step by step. Finally, many of them ran.

But not to flee. Instead, they went all the way around the block and came up behind the reinforcement officers. Surprised that there was a new attack coming from behind, it was the police that began to loose the ground, and were forced to retreat back, back, back.

It was into the late, late hours of the night when the riots finally died down to nothing, the last of the crowd finally dispersed, exhausted.

4) The Next Day (aka a giant middle finger to the cops)

The shattered glass sparkled in the morning light the next day - a tribute to what had gone down the night before.

That night, the crowds around stonewall were huge. And it wasn’t just the queer community - the anti-war protesters and Black Panthers had joined in, standing against the even larger ranks of officers. The night before was a tipping point, but if momentum was to keep going, there needed to be sustained effort.

Inside, the Inn was back to normal. The Mafia had repaired the stage, gotten a new cash register, and even replaced the jukebox. It was if the efforts of the police had never even happened. Throughout the night, the queer community went in and out as though everything were totally normal - as if the police didn’t matter.

The riots were even worse than the night before, but the police couldn’t gain any ground.

Despite what was happening and the triumphs of the queer community, the press was a little less enthusiastic, aiming to diminish what had happened, taking the viewpoint of the police, or claiming the riots happened because of a celebrity’s death, and not the decades upon decades of oppression.

5) The Impact (how we got to today)

A year later, a lot of the Stonewall participants gathered to commemorate the movement. There were now several activism groups that had grown since the riots, but there needed a way to keep it growing - keep the flame from dying out.

One woman proposed that they have a march like the Civil Rights movement and Anti-war protesters were having. As soon as the question filled the space, there was unanimous consensus. Yes - they were to march.

It was terrifying. One member remembered fearing that only ten or so people would show up - that it was only going to make them into a laughingstock and nothing more. Indeed, many people had shown up with popcorn to “watch the f*gs” - it was seen almost as a show or performance.

But the moment was anything but. When the member looked back, in apprehension, what he saw wasn’t ten or the anticipated couple hundred people. No more than two thousand people had joined the parade. And not just the queer community - straight New Yorkers were there too. It was a moment of solidarity, and a demand for justice.

Every year since, there have been pride marches around the country, memorium to the community, and to the fight we’ve been fighting for a very long time, and to the patrons of Stonewall Inn who finally decided enough was enough.

6) Sources (because apparently trusting an unsourced tumblr posts is seen as an academic no-no)

(all in MLA because I just copy/pasted them from my research notes and also MLA feels official and all that)

Yardley, William. "Stormy DeLarverie, Early Leader in the Gay Rights Movement, Dies at 93." The New York Times, 29 May 2014, www.nytimes.com/2014/05/30/nyregion/storme-delarverie-early-leader-in-the-gay-rights-movement-dies-at-93.html?_r=0. Accessed 12 Apr. 2021.

Brown, Dalvin. "Marsha P. Johnson: Transgender Hero of Stonewall Riots Finally Gets Her Due." USA Today, 27 Mar. 2019, www.usatoday.com/story/news/investigations/2019/03/27/black-history-marsha-johnson-and-stonewall-riots/2353538002/. Accessed 12 Apr. 2021.

Burey, Jodi-Ann. "'It Wasn't No Damn Riot': Celebrating Stonewall Uprising Activist Storme DeLarverie." The Riveter, Feb. 2017, theriveter.co/voice/it-wasnt-no-damn-riot-celebrating-stonewall-uprising-activist-storme-delarverie/. Accessed 12 Apr. 2021.

Carter, David. Stonewall: The Riots That Sparked the Gay Revolution. 2nd ed., New York, St. Martin's Griffin, 2010.

Duberman, Martin B. Stonewall. New York, Plume, 1993.

Edsall, Nicholas C. Toward Stonewall: Homosexuality and Society in the Modern Western World. Charlottesville [Va.], U of Virginia P, 2003.

Kristi K. "Something like a Super Lesbian: Storme DeLarverie (In Memoriam)." The K Word, edited by Kristi K, 28 May 2014, thekword.com/2014/05/28/something-like-a-super-lesbian-storme-delarverie-in-memoriam/. Accessed 12 Apr. 2021.

---. "Something like a Super Lesbian: Storme DeLarverie (In Memoriam)." The K Word, edited by Kristi K, 28 May 2014, thekword.com/2014/05/28/something-like-a-super-lesbian-storme-delarverie-in-memoriam/. Accessed 12 Apr. 2021.

"The Stonewall You Know Is a Myth. And That's O.K. | NYT Celebrating Pride." YouTube, uploaded by The New York Times, 31 May 2019, www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7jnzOMxb14. Accessed 12 Apr. 2021.

(not in mla sorry) - PBS’s Stonewall Uprising (documentary)

++++

tagging: @veryunoriginal and @doggo038 because yall seemed pretty interested. Also my usual taglist: @candlemouse @bookdragonfanish @book-limerence

If you want to be added/removed from any of my taglists, let me know! taglists found pinned to the top of my blog :D

#queer history #lgbtq #stonewall riots #greenwich #pride parades #sources are at the bottom :D #sixth precinct #storme delarverie #marsha johnson #sylvia rivera #black panthers #anti-war protesters #american history #gay history #olive's writing vibes #guys if you could reblog this that would be awesome more people need to know queer history #yall are the best!

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cloud9in · 3 years

Text

Animal Control (Mc x Poppy)

Summary: Bea decides to buy Poppy a gerbil but it doesn’t go well...A whole bunch of chaos ensues and maybe some hands thrown? Includes Chloe and Veronica.

Notes: Yeah this is the most chaotic thing my mind has come up with. I hope you enjoy and laugh. It’s FLUFF, and a little angst.

Word Count: 2.4k

Tags: @samanthadalton @clowneryme @somewillwin @baexpoppy @zigxryanz @uselesslesbianfr @aleiramacaii (sorry if I missed you or if you want to be added to Poppy tags lemme know)

*NO GERBILS WERE HARMED IN THE MAKING*

WHAT. IS. THAT?! BEA HUGHES GET IT OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!!”

It would be an understatement if I said that the whole world could hear Poppy right now.

Bea, wanting to be a good girlfriend, went out and bought a special gift for the blonde. But it definitely got a reaction she wasn’t hoping for.

Bea watched as Poppy jumped onto the bathroom sink as a little critter ran across the floor. It wasn’t really a critter though, just a cute little fat animal thing that Bea thought Poppy would gush over. “CHLOE CALL ANIMAL CONTROL”

....she wasn’t hoping for that response either.

“Pops! Okay okay I’ll get him it’s okay. He won’t hurt you. Well-“

“Well?!”

“Well he might give you a little nibble BUT that’s COMPLETELY normal and-“

“BEA!”

“POPPY!”

Their voices started to boom through the Zeta House as Veronica and Chloe rushed up the stairs and straight into the commotion. The scene before them was utterly shocking in a sense. The blonde stood on the counter, her foot nearly in the sink as she hugged the wall and squeezed her eyes shut...and seemed to be praying to herself? Bea, on the other hand, stood on all 4s as she looked under the cabinet. The Zeta girls glance at each other and then back at the couple as they try to process what was happening. “....So is either one of you going to explain or are we going to-“

Bea jumped at the new voice in the room, hitting her head on the edge of the cabinet. “Ow!” Veronica bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing as Chloe turned away to hide the grin on her face. Poppy opened her eyes, too distracted to notice Bea wince and rub her head. She peers around the bathroom, breathing a sigh of relief when she doesn’t spot the little gremlin crawling about. The blonde notices her friends standing by the door and her face flushes impossibly red as they watch her from down below. Real nice Poppy, they definitely envy you right now. Is that a new yoga pose you’re doing right now? I don’t think your foot belongs there.

She clears her throat and steps down from the counter. “Chloe didn’t you hear me? I said to call animal control there is a rabid pest in the house.” Poppy shoots Bea an annoyed look, and all the brunette could do was stand there and shrug her shoulder sheepishly. Poppy didn’t expect Chloe to full on panic but now there was another blonde running around the room hysterically. Chloe shrieks and whispers to herself, “oh my god a pest?! What if it lays eggs, or what if people hear about this?” She turns towards Poppy and gasps, “do we have to call the terminator?!” Bea blinks in confusion until it hits her, “termin-? wha...OH!” She spins until she faces her girlfriend, “NO! Don’t you dare call the exterminator! It’s a gerbil for crying out loud, it doesn’t deserve that-” Chloe begins to laugh and points an accusing finger at Bea, “it wouldn’t be here in the first place if you stopped coming in here smelling like a farm.”

The brunette does a double take at the dumb blonde, “EXCUSE ME?!” She takes a deep breath and pinches the top of her nose to calm down, “...Chloe do you even know what a gerbil is?”

“Oh I’ll tell you what it is! GONE! It’s leaving now Bea.” Poppy stomps in between the two girls with a deadly expression. Poppy was definitely not going to hold either one of them back if they started fighting. The hell does she look like doing that? But they were definitely not going to damage anything in her room so enough was enough. Bea glances at Poppy and can feel her starting to get more pissed off. She should stop, she should definitely stop. Maybe because she doesn’t actually know where said gerbil is…and Poppy would erase her entire existence off of this planet if Bea ever told her that.

Chloe looks over at Bea and can tell that she’s starting to back down. “Oooh aren’t you a nice pet, obeying your girlfriend. Where did all of your self respect go?” A cat-like grin slowly appears on the blonde’s face as Bea’s jaw slackens in shock.

“You’re one to talk bitch! How about I get rid of you while I’m at it.”

“Oh bring it pig girl!-”

Both girls close in on each other as Poppy is sent sprawling back on her ass. She sits there in complete shock and blinks a couple times to refocus.

Veronica, still standing by the door, takes no effort in trying to stop the cat fight happening in front of her. In fact she sneaks away to grab her phone and starts filming the whole thing. Perfect for some blackmail later. And well she could probably get paid a lot to sell this video. Thank you Poppy for your glorious last name.

Okay now you’re probably wondering where the gerbil comes in to play? We’re getting there, just wait…

Bea and Chloe tumble into Poppy’s walk in closet as one tries to gain the upper hand. To Bea’s shocking surprise, the blonde knows how to throw hands. But the brunette more so wanted to pin her down instead of actually hitting her, she knows that won’t end well for either of them.

Poppy stares at Veronica filming them in all sorts of angles. How did she even get up on that shelf? She rolls her eyes with irritation, already feeling a headache forming. The screaming match on the other side of the room was not helping either. All the blonde wanted was to have a peaceful spa day and try her new Glossier vitamin skincare mask, and maybe have a nice lunch with Bea. This was definitely going to leave some wrinkles. Poppy sighed heavily and tried to stand up, but a flash of little legs ran across the floor a few feet from where she sat, and she felt her heart stop. Poppy shut her eyes, hoping and praying that it isn’t what she thinks it is, and to her awful surprise it was most definitely the gerbil. One second of silence passes before Poppy lets out the most horrific, high pitched scream known to man. It was serious enough that Veronica stepped down from the shelf and Bea loosened her grip on Chloe’s hair. The adrenaline hit Poppy so hard as she sprinted out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind her, and lunging into the closet where the other girls stood like deers in headlights. Bea quickly approaches her girlfriend, partly terrified and partly concerned.

“I just saw it! The- the fiend. It’s in the bathroom still. Just get rid of it Bea please..”

Poppy cowers in the corner trying to cover herself with faux fur coats and whatever she could find that makes her feel less exposed. The girls just stood and watched her, all sharing confused glances. Poppy loved animals, but she never signed up for rodents as well. This meant a serious talk with Bea after everything settled down.

The brunette sighs with a little bit of relief at Poppy’s words, “Oh atleast you found it, I thought I lost him for good..”

The blonde turns so fast it almost makes Bea dizzy. Her face goes pale as Poppy doesn’t break eye contact with her, “ You...what?! You lost it?!”

“Poppy that’s really not what we should focus on right now-”

“If you couldn’t tell...I am losing my mind right now Bea.” She gestures wildly to the mismatched outfit on her body and her tangled locks. “If we don’t capture this animal and RETURN. IT.” She takes one menacing step towards everyone, “none of you will leave alive, got it?”

Okay Poppy is scary, i’ll admit it.

Bea exhales nervously and looks at Chloe, and Chloe looks at Veronica who is holding a camera in her face, completely unfazed. Chloe scoffs with disbelief, swatting the phone out of her face, “Really V?! This is not the time for that.”

The vlogger just kept filming with a shameless smirk painted on her face, “Or what? You’ll fight me too?”

Before anything could progress again, Bea intervenes even while trying to catch her breath. “Okayyy, lets not do this. Can we just work together and catch the gerbil so Poppy can act normal again?” The brunette laughs internally because she knows that her girlfriend is probably staring directly into her soul, but she doesn’t look. She could not imagine herself fighting Poppy, even though they technically did in the water fountain once, but that was more like a fever dream and she found it kinky, anyways… Bea took the lead and headed straight for the door to the bathroom, preparing herself for the quick little monster.

“Do we not have a secure plan for this? Just gonna open the door and hope for the best?” Chloe huffs out. And if Bea was being honest, that was the most sensible thing she had said all day.That girl was full of surprises. “I’m not scared of him like ya’ll. He is just very quick and I don’t want to lose him again.”

“Listen, I don’t care what you guys are or aren’t. I am still standing by what I said earlier...and I guess I will help as well.” It was already embarrassing how Poppy had acted before, but the blonde wanted to save the last of her dignity and so she stood in the far back, offering to be the last minute captor if anything went wrong. Bea was grateful that she didn’t appear to be very mad at her, but she wasn’t a fool. Still, it was better to be in trouble than dead, in some ways. The brunette braced herself and counted to three before swinging the door open and lunging to the floor immediately. Too bad the gerbil was too quick for Bea and it ran between her legs. She grunted with frustration before tripping backwards and knocking right into Chloe, who fell back onto Veronica like a freaking domino effect. The room erupted into screams as Poppy unwillingly ran forward and grabbed the rodent by its tail and lifted it into the air, hundreds of feets away from her body of course. “I got it! I got it!...Now what do I do, Bea?!!”

“Okay! okay calm down...and slowly bring it towards me. That’s it you got it..” Bea cautiously steps towards Poppy and holds her hands out to catch it if things went awry. Poppy stood frozen with fear and shock, still not registering that there was a gerbil scrambling wildly and hanging from her fingers but she pushed the dread away and successfully placed it into Bea’s hands. Mission freaking accomplished. The room visibly sighed with relief after Bea placed the animal back into his cage but Poppy could only stare at her fingers in horror. She’d need to exfoliate it maybe twice, get a new manicure, a skin peel maybe, or just some new skin honestly.

***

After the chaos had settled down and Poppy finally scrubbed herself clean, she walked back into her room and saw Bea lazily playing with the gerbil in his cage. If she wasn’t so creeped out by the rodent, the blonde would almost think this view was very sweet. Bea noticed her immediately and sat up with a guilty expression. “Pops...If I had known that you’d react like that I would have never even thought about buying him. It was a stupid decision really and I should’ve made sure you were okay with it first.” There goes Bea again with her puppy eyes and charming choice of words. Poppy sighs internally, already feeling like an asshole. She sits next to Bea and rubs her knuckles soothingly, “Well yeah it was pretty stupid…” The brunette raises an eyebrow amusingly. “But...you couldn’t have known, and I thought it was really sweet that you’d want to surprise me like that. Usually I’m the one buying gifts for others.” Bea sits up straighter feeling a little overwhelmed but wraps her arms around Poppy’s waist, leaning her head on her shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence until the brunette spoke up again, her voice nearly a whisper, “...does this mean we get to keep him?”

The blonde scoffs loudly but glances over at the cage, her eyes softening just a little bit. She looks down at her girlfriend who seems to have been watching her this whole time. Poppy feels her face start to heat up but for all the right reasons. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to having one of...those. But if you really want me to try then I will.” It was definitely worth it to see Bea’s face beam with joy, she kisses Poppy on the cheek with excitement, “Babe you won’t regret it! And.. if it doesn’t work out then we can always give him a better home okay?” The blonde watches her girlfriend’s eyes sparkle brightly and she can’t help but mirror her smile,“Okay”.

Bea reaches for the cage and sets it on her lap. She doesn’t take the gerbil out just yet, wanting Poppy to get comfortable with it in her presence. She watches different stages of emotions make its way across the blonde’s face before she relaxes. Poppy looks at her and speaks gently, “have you decided on a name yet?”

“Well I was hoping we could come up with one together, but after what happened today maybe he can be called….terminator?”

Poppy rolls her eyes so far back but lets out a soft laugh, her hair falling softly onto her cheek. When she doesn’t feel Bea brush the strands away she does it herself and watches as Bea observes the little creature. “Okay I change my mind, you’re giving him more attention than me.” The brunette looks up with a sheepish smile but can only stare at Poppy’s loving but teaseful gaze. Of course she has to be a smartass though, “actually did you know that gerbils require your attention on a daily basis, and can develop strong relationships with their owners? Almost sounds like you.” Bea feels the punch in her side before she can see it and pretends to howl in pain. It doesn’t seem to faze poppy though as she smirks at her victim, “keep that up and you will be sleeping in the cage with him.”

“Oh so you want to lock me up huh?” Bea bites her lip mischievously as she leans into kiss Poppy. Before things can heat up they hear a groan coming from the door. “Ughhh! Of course it had to turn sexual.” Veronica stood with her phone in her hand filming, and a hand over her eyes.

“VERONICA!”

#queen b #poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair #playchoices #mc x poppy #sorry to all the chloe stans LMAO #I had so much fun writing this #I hope you enjoy #and of course I haven't forgot about part 2 of driving lessons

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reluctant-mandalore · 4 years

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🎃Mandoctober🎃Day 23: Rifle

After being captured, the Mandalorian is shocked to see you come to his rescue while skillfully wielding his pulse rifle.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, mentions of blood and injury. Weapons usage (pulse rifle). Also reader kicking some scummy bounty hunter ass. Not beta read.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Gender Neutral Reader (also badass reader)

Word Count: 1,644

a/n: Hey everyone! Just a short and sort of cheeky fic about the reader using Mando’s pulse rifle to save him. I’m not good at writing fight scenes so its mostly just ambiguous without much detail to it. Anywho, I thought it was a nice little change up from some of the typical stuff I write! Endings kinda weird ngl, but I honestly had no clue how to end it. So... 👀

The Mandalorian had never been more angry in his life. The job was supposed to be a simple one that involved the capture and a return of a petty thief, but of course nothing seemed to be that easy for him. Out of all the things that could have gone wrong with this job, he never thought it would turn out to be a plot meant to capture the Mandalorian and the child.

This was what exactly had happened though, and what was supposed to be a simple job, had turned into something much more complicated. He had ended up finding himself ridiculously outnumbered and overpowered more quickly than he had liked, resulting in his capture by the other bounty hunters. How he fell to some scummy low-life hunters he’d never know, but it had happened, and now he had to find a way out of the situation.

The other bounty hunters had chuckled and chattered in delight over being able to trick the Mandalorian. The confidence they had felt from doing so wafted off of them in waves, annoying the beskar hunter beyond belief. Once he got himself out of this, he’d make sure to wipe those smirks right of their cheeks.

One of the hunters had sauntered over to the cuffed Mandalorian, confidence in each step he took. He only stopped when he was standing mere inches in front of the imprisoned man. At first the hunter had only stared at him, his head tilting at the sight of the blood which dripped from the wound in Mando’s side.

“That’s gotta hurt, huh?”

The Mandalorian didn’t reply, refusing to waste words on someone like the hunter before him. This man held no honour in his eyes, and as far as he was concerned, he wasn’t worth a single syllable from his own lips.

“Not goin’ to talk, are ya?” He laughed, “Should hav’ expected as much from someone of yer kind.”

The smirk on his lips was crooked, his eyes holding a sinister glare, as his voice dripped with more venomous taunts, “Won’t be long till the rest of the boys get back with the asset and that precious little ‘friend’ of yers anyway.”

Flames of anger began to ignite within the Mandalorian at the mention of you and the child. The thought of the two of you being in danger now due to his oversight made his blood boil and his heart ache in panic. He knew he had to find a way to get out of this in order to save you both. He couldn’t stand the thought of knowing that you were in trouble, and it honestly terrified him to his core.

The concern he felt made him begin to pull at the restraining device holding him, ignoring the pain which shot through him from his wound that continued to bleed steadily. Seeing this had made the hunters in close proximity laugh at his attempt, the one standing before him loudest among the bunch. Their reactions had only solidified his need to free himself though, and his mind desperately searched for a solution for his current predicament.

“Ya know…” The hunter trailed off, eyeing the beskar covered man and the helmet which rested on his head, “I heard once that Mandalorians don’t ever remove their helmets.”

One of the other hunters had scoffed, “That’s ridiculous!”

“No it’s true!” Another had piped in, “I heard they don’t ever show their face to no one.”

Murmurs had spread out among the group of hunters nearby now, small bits of bickering could be heard as they discussed the rumors around his helmet. The Mandalorian had frozen in place at hearing their words, as now he was also becoming increasingly worried for the creed he had swore. It wouldn’t be the first time an enemy has attempted to remove his helmet after all, and he wouldn’t put it past these ones to try as well.

“Well Mando is it true?” The hunter before him asked, “Hav’ ya never really taken off that bucket of yers?”

Silence. The only sound coming from the Mandalorian, who sat in his own blood, was the soft intake of breaths he took. Behind him, his hands fiddled with the restraining device quietly, hoping he’d be able to get it undone before the hunter tried whatever he was thinking of doing.

“Don’t matter if ya won’t answer.” The hunter taunting him approached closer now, his grimy hand grabbing roughly at the chin of the helmet shielding the Mandalorian’s face from view. “Cause I want a peek, whether you like it or-”

The man never got to finish his words, as in an instant he had turned to puffs of ashes and sparks before the Mandalorian. Everyone in the dimly lit room had jumped from surprise at the sudden attack, not prepared for it to occur, and panic soon flowed from hunter to hunter, as they tried to find the source of the blast.

After the first shot, it didn’t take much longer for more to follow. Every shot from the pulse rifle in question hitting its desired targets without fail, the bright blasts shooting across the open area and disintegrating each hunter they managed to hit in an instant. The other bounty hunters fell quickly, not able to keep up with the assault that was suddenly brought upon them, and the Mandalorian watched in bewilderment at the chaos taking place before him.

Honestly, he just really hoped that this unknown person with a pulse rifle was here to rescue him, though he knew not to get his hopes up either way.

Once again silence had filled the space, the other bounty hunters now either piles of ash or limps bodies on the floor surrounding him. Shuffling could be heard in the distance, and he watched impatiently for his rescuer to come into view, though nothing could prepare him for what he was about to see.

The Mandalorian had felt his jaw drop while watching you walk out from the shadows, his pulse rifle held firmly in your grasp. The light filtering in through the cracks of the ceiling made itself into a shimmering veil around your form, illuminating you in the darkened space, and making you seem like a divine being sent from the maker themselves.

“Hey Mando!” Your voice was cheerful and light, almost as if you didn’t just blast a bunch of men twice your size to pieces, “Sorry I’m a little late.”

His mouth had moved in an attempt to form words, but the shock running through him kept them firmly in his throat. He didn’t know what to say or how to react when seeing you here. He never expected to have you come to his rescue, and honestly he wasn’t even aware that you knew how to shoot.

A happy hum had left you as you went to work untying your Mandalorian companion, removing the restraining device that had made itself home onto his wrists. Afterwards, you had helped him stand, allowing him to put his weight onto you, while he winced from the wound on his side.

“Careful now, don’t want to make that any worse than it already is.” You said, worry crossing your features at the sight of his injury.

Din looked around, still shocked by the devastation brought on by you and a single rifle, “Did...Did you do all this on your own?”

“Of course?” You said, your face morphing to that of confusion, “Now come, let’s get out of here. Your son is waiting for you back at the ship and that wound needs to be looked at.”

Helping him walk out of the building and out into the daylight, you guided him all the way back to the Razor Crest. When finally back at the ship, you had even helped him up the ramp, settling him on one of the crates in the hull before moving away to find some medical supplies.

The hatch to the child’s cot was closed—hinting that the little one was taking his evening nap—which made the Mandalorian relieved to see. He didn’t want the child to see him in this state. The child didn’t need more things like this to weigh him down at such a young age.

“Oh yeah!” You said suddenly, grabbing his attention, as you maneuvered his pulse rifle off your shoulder before holding it out for him to take, “I borrowed your pulse rifle, it's really nice! Probably one of the best I’ve ever used.”

After your comment and return of his rifle, you went back to searching through his med supplies and medpacs to find the bacta patches. While you did so, the Mandalorian gently ran his fingers over the rifle in his hands, the shock of seeing your skill with it still bouncing around in his mind. The need to ask you about your handling of the pulse rifle crawled at his throat, but he resisted speaking at first, as he wasn’t sure how to word his questions without coming off as rude.

He was honestly surprised to see the whole thing go down. He never knew that you were so handy with a gun when he had first hired you to work for him, and honestly assumed you couldn’t. At times you seemed too sweet to ever pick up a blaster of any sort, much less a full on pulse rifle. Clearly, he still had much to learn about his new partner.

“You know…” He trailed off when he finally spoke, a hint of wonder in his tone, as he looked up at you from the gun. “You never told me you could shoot.”

A smirk spread across your lips at his words, and you looked over at him with a medpac in hand, a shrug of your shoulders quickly following suit.

“You never asked.”

---

Tags:

@starrywatermelon @ah-callie @readsalot73 @karnita-mexicana

#the mandalorian #mandoctober #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din #din x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #gender neutral reader #mando #mandalorian #pulse rifle #canon typical violence #mentions of violence #mentions of blood #mentions of injury #star wars fanfic #the mandalorian fanfic #not beta read

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jaylamcd68 · 3 years

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The Rookie 3x14

GUYS I CAN’T I AM TOO SHOOK.. but I will .. god this episode was SO good though, literally the entire time I was giddy, but you just KNEW they were going to do us dirty with a cliffhanger!!!

Last week I broke it down into character arcs but it was way to blended this week so its basically going to be a walk-through of the whole episode scene by scene.

Nyla gives Lucy one last talk as she prepares to go under. Lucy then is seen just wasting time in her time in her cover motel room waiting to see if someone is going to contact her. Wopez’s wedding venue was raided by the FBI - she says they’re getting married on Saturday at the court house Tamara and Silos help out Wesley’s mother to plan a new wedding in 2 days time. Nolan gets a knock on the door from a girl dog sitting for his neighbours who got locked out. He helps her out and they plan to see each other later. Smitty is Nolan’s TO for the day (Hilarious) Aldo’s brother Dahrio Salonga and crew break into Lucy’s motel room and tell her she needs to cook for them, they tell her they are taking her for a ride somewhere and make her leave her gun but Lucy gets her spare from the closet. They make her leave her phone behind. The wedding planning trio arrive at the new venue which is closed for repairs. Wesley’s mother tells the man in charge there that her son is getting married here on Saturday - Nolan connected with some construction contacts to have the repairs finished early so they could use the venue. Nolan talks with Cesar’s girlfriend to try and get her to convince him to contact the police to make a deal to torpedo his old business since it’s now under the control of La Fiera. Nolan then dislocates his finger chasing down a shoplifting suspect. Lucy is driving with Dahrio and Bob Morely’s character who’s name I didn’t catch, they tell her they are robbing a chemical supply store to get the necessary supplies to make what they need. Lucy speeds through an intersection and gets pulled over BUT ITS JACKSON AND TIM. Dahrio says he’s going to shoot the officers because she is supposedly out on bail, Bob Morely’s character has a warrant for his arrest and the car they are driving is stolen, so of course Lucy is like WHAT no, so she tells them she hasn’t gotten a ticket since she was 16 because she always flirts her way out of it so when Tim asks her for her license and registration Lucy PAINFULLY flirts with Tim, I honestly couldn’t even enjoy it because it was SO bad, but imma let my girl slide on this one since Tim and Jackson’s lives were at stake. Anyways Tim gets what she is trying to do and let’s them go, with Lucy giving them some info to pass onto Nyla as well in secret by saying they were late to pick up party supplies for her brother so they catch on that its Aldo’s brother and the supplies are to cook something. They hit up the chemical supply store, and Bob Morely’s character is a creep and is purposely toying with one of the girls who works there, terrifying her. Lucy is not having it and almost gets into it with him. Lucy notices a camera at the warehouse and doesn’t leave the property with any of the stolen merchandise meaning she didn’t commit a crime and she is good for being a UC. Nolan and Smitty get in contact with Cesar but one of La Fiera’s snipers is there who shoots him! A wonderful moment of Tim being worried about Lucy talking with Nyla and how he thinks she’s over her head and she won’t tell people to pull her out because she’s not a quitter. Nyla says Lucy is supposed to have a check in at midnight so she will check if she’s still good, Tim tells Nyla to call him as soon as she hears from Lucy. I AM IN LOVE with the wedding planning committee - Tamara, Silos, Jackson, Tim, Wesley and his mom organizing the last minute details, Tamara talking about Cardi B and Wesleys mom wanting to know who she is and Wesley being like hell naw😂 Nolan’s date comes over and his ethics professor is there because he wants to talk about his options re: the DA wanting to charge the suspect he was chasing when he dislocated his finger with a felony assault charge. Professor Ryan talks about the systemic problem of the DA’s office over charging people. Nyla tells Tim that Lucy missed her check in. They are super worried because any product that Lucy makes cannot end up on the street or she’ll have committed a crime so they know she will die trying to stop it from happening if they can’t find her before then.

Lucy has made a batch of meth and they want to deliver it and she is panicking trying to come up with a way to delay that when they get rolled up on by La Fiera and her people. In the chaos Lucy is able to call in to let them know where she is. La Fiera recognizes Lucy but doesn’t know from where. Lucy hears her backup arrive and maneuvers the gun pulled to her head away from the guy holding it and aims it at La Fiera telling her she’s a cop and she’s under arrest. At that moment Lopez comes in saying she stole her line. Tim is with her and when Lucy asks how they got there so fast he tells her when she didn’t check in they had 400 officers searching for her all night. Nolan teams up with Grey to talk with the DA lawyer. Grey spoke with different police officers organizing so that they won’t cooperate with the DA’s office if they are overcharging people. Nolan made an enemy in the DA’s office!! Speaking of people making enemies, Lopez is locking up La Fiera in a cell and La Fiera says that she isn’t going to stay in jail to which Lopez tells her stop kidding herself. Lopez then goes for the jugular telling La Fiera that she is the reason why Diego is dead, because she used him as a cover to speak with Cesar’s father. Lopez closes the door and La Fiera looks like she’s trying to murder Angela with her eyes!!! ITS FINALLY WEDDING TIME (AND LUCY ISN’T UNDERCOVER!!) Tim is speaking with Angela and telling her that she owes him for life. Tamara comes up to Tim asking for superglue, hair pins, and HIS BADGE?! he is like uhm why?? and Tamara just gives him a look like we don’t have time for stupid questions and he just says he will handle whatever this is and tells Angela to go get ready. Jackson comes up to Wesley and his mother because Angela doesn’t have her something old/new/borrowed/blue. Wesley’s mom gives her an antique broach that her own grandmother wore at her wedding. Nolan brought his new friend Bailey to the wedding and Jackson asks to borrow something from him. Nolan gives Jackson a key chain Henry made for him as a child. Jackson steals Grey’s pocket square because it’s blue. CUE SCREAMING FOR THE CHENFORD MOMENT: Grey is speaking with Nyla when Lucy walks up to them, they are telling her she is back to normal come Monday and Lucy says she actually misses normal AS SHE IS LOOKING AT TIM. Then she goes up to him and compliments him on the nice suit and that Nova would approve, Tim banters back by saying Nova was a little thirsty 😂😍😂😍 to which Lucy responds that Nova was assertive😍❤️. Tim compliments Chen on her good work undercover taking down two major drug traffickers in her first solo undercover assignment. Cue the amazing Chen, save me a dance quote from the promo. Then we have Jackson delivering all his rounded up supplies to Angela. They share an emotional hug.

The major spoilers are below: CUE THE SCREAMS OF TERROR because the next scene is La Fiera in the transport van and you just know things are going downhill from here 😭😭😭 the van gets ambushed and La Fiera escapes. Tamara was looking for Jackson to deliver the wedding bouquet and John says he can deliver it to Lopez. But the camera pans back and Angela is being held at gunpoint by a masked man. When John arrives the room is empty and he doesn’t think anything of it until he sees the bracelet that Angela has been wearing every day since La Fiera gave it to her on the floor .. AND THEN ITS JUST OVER!!! I CANT. NO WEDDING, NO IDEA WHERE LOPEZ IS, IF SHES ALIVE, NOTHING. AHHHHHHHH I CANT. (Also my chenford heart is so sad that we aren’t going to get the dance even though I didn’t think we would but I thought it would be because she went UC not because the episode ends on a cliffhanger on whether the bride even made it😭😭😭)

#the rookie spoilers #the rookie #Chenford #tim bradford #lucy chen #nyla harper #jackson west #angela lopez #wesley evers #tamara colins #silos idk his last name #wade grey #I am too shook to write this #but I will #but GUYS I CANT BELIEVE THEY DID THIS TO US #the rookie cliffhanger

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jinxquickfoot · 3 years

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TFATWS Script Notes

Ok, so while I genuinely enjoyed so much of TFATWS, I have...thoughts. And as a few people have asked me about said thoughts, and said thoughts have been living rent free in my head since the show ended, I’ve made this stupidly long post. (For context, my day job is as a script reader and editor, so here are my TFATWS script notes for anyone kind enough/crazy enough to read them.) And...here we go.

1) More World-Building

This is a common compliant I’ve seen about the show, and it’s a fair one. While we hear a lot about people being displaced after the Blip and the problems that’s causing, we never really get to see it. Firstly, this is such a wasted opportunity to finally show us some of more of the post-Blip chaos, which is a super interesting world that they didn’t really dive into. Secondly, we would identify more with Karli if we saw what and who she was fighting for instead of just being told about it. You could also add in the woman who dies who was so apparently important to Karli and her community but doesn’t get any screen time while she’s alive, which means we feel very distant from Karli with this loss, when we could feel closer to her. This feels like Karli’s Yinsen or Erskine and we didn’t even get to meet her.

While it was nice that we got an entire first episode dedicated to setting up Sam and Bucky’s arc, that did not need an entire episode of screen time - they don’t even interact until episode 2. Make the opening exposition more succinct, and leave room to set up, if not Karli, then at least the world and the stakes that she’s fighting for.

2) Reveal Sharon is The Power Broker in Episode 3

I know a lot of people didn’t like Sharon as the Power Broker at all, so bear with me, because I like the idea behind this at least - that Sharon has become so jaded after the events of Civil War that she’s turned to crime and has given up on the idea of heroes. As Sam is currently trying to figure out his own ideology and what the shield means to him throughout the series, and he’s already got Zemo pushing his thoughts on him, this would be another challenge for Sam to overcome. Maybe that’s what they were going for, but it’s ruined when they don’t reveal why Sharon is doing what she’s doing and instead save it up for a cheap twist in Episode 6. Most of us picked that Sharon was the Power Broker anyway and it had very little effect on the plot to the point where she felt tacked on as a poorly done set-up for Season 2.

So bring it out that info in Episode 3. It would have been a better twist in that episode, and would have made Sam even more unsure of the right path seeing a former ally as now a potential antagonist. You could also have Sam trying and failing to bring Sharon around by promising her a pardon, which she turns down, making him even more unsure of himself. And then, instead of her feeling tacked on in the last episode, she can come through and help them save the day, revealing that Sam did get through to her after all, the way he always does - empathy and understanding.

3) Wrap up John Walker in episode 5

Walker in the sixth episode was just…weird. They clearly set up him as an added obstacle for Sam and Bucky and then he was their…ally? After killing a man and clearly going for a kill on Sam when they were fighting over the shield? And as cool as that shield construction teaser was, it didn’t pay off, and John Walker did not deserve a redemption arc. So cut the shield scene, and cut Walker out of the final sequence, which would leave more room for Sam and Bucky to actually team up in that final battle. For a show that’s meant to be about their relationship, there was a very little payoff of showing them working together in the final takedown of the Flag-Smashers. Then bring in Madame Hydra and US Agent in a post credits scene for a Season 2 set-up.

4) Bring in Torres as the new Falcon in Episode 6

That’s it, that’s the note. This show definitely suffers from trying to set up too much for later seasons or other Marvel properties. If you’re going to set up Torres as the new Falcon in Episode 5, give it to us in Episode 6. Don’t devalue the show we’re watching for the sake of future content.

5) Have the Flagsmashers turn against Karli

This was such an obvious route that they seemed to be going for, so it kind of amazed me that they didn’t do it. Karli starts off as a Robin Hood-style figure who turns villain, and it’s so clear her followers are starting to doubt her - and her followers should be doubting her. One of their number died, Karli’s threatening to kill hostages, it’s so clear they’re no longer the good guys. So have them back down and abandon her when she goes too far, which leads us into -

6) Have Karli sacrifice herself

Zemo shouldn’t have been proven right. Because he was partially right, and Karli was partially right, and this show should have been about Sam trying to work out the balance between them and figure out what he thought was right, which is what the entire Captain America corner of Marvel has been about. Instead of having Karli go totally evil in her final seconds and trying to kill Sam, give her the clarity that no one is going to listen to her except if she becomes a symbol. Because people listen to and follow symbols - that’s been a major theme in this show already - and that becomes easier to do if they’re dead. Look at Steve Rogers. Her friend even refers to her as the next Captain America - the seed for this has long been planted.

Karli wants to do good but also recognises the harm she causes. Sam tries to talk her down (I’m imagining he’s put down the shield at this point to talk to her, so they can talk as human beings and not symbols), but at the crucial point she raises her gun with the apparent intent to shoot Sam, causing her to get shot instead. Her death still inspires Sam’s speech and gets her cause won, but it feels more earned and tragic because now it really is a sacrifice - one that maybe didn’t need to be made if she and others like her were listened to in the first place. It also comes with the interesting idea that both Karli and Steve have now sacrificed themselves to win a war, while Sam is still living which, as a certain Washington put it: “Dying is easy young man; living is harder.” Sam choosing to live and fight as Captain America despite knowing the hardships that come with separates him from both Steve and Karli, setting him up to be a new kind of Cap.

I’m so attached to this idea that I have three ideas for who could end up killing her

a) Have it be Sharon

In this version, Sharon embodies a more grey area that Sam would struggle with, and killing a young girl to save a friend would definitely fall into said grey area. Also, Sharon still gets her pardon, but for “eliminating the dangerous terrorist Karli Morgenthau” which…you get it.

b) Have it be Torres

So we’ve established Torres is there as the new Falcon, and all he sees is Sam about to die and takes the shot, only to realize what he’s done when it’s too late. This would add to the price of Karli’s death and be something for Torres to wrestle with in later seasons. Bonus points for one of Karli’s last acts being forgiving Torres.

c) Have it be a faceless law enforcer

This one is the most on the nose, but there’s something in the idea of the government thinking Sam still needs ‘backup’ when really they just make things worse, and Karli letting herself get killed by the system in order to improve it. These are just my opinions - doesn’t mean I’m right all or that all of these would work! But I do think it’s fair to say that the show mostly worked, but it wasn’t a home run, and this is just my script editor brain yelling at me about how they might have got there. (P.S. If this is interesting to anyone except me I have a Iron Man 3 and Age of Ultron one ready to go)

#tfatws spoilers #tfatws #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #the falcon and the winter soldier #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #winter soldier #writer things

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ichika27 · 3 years

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Mairimashita! Iruma-kun s2 ep18

Was gonna post this days ago but I decided to do twewy-related stuff first lol.

Anyways, lots of pictures below again. At least 20, I think. Talks of ships below as well.

The last time we saw them, Iruma had jumped in front of the beast preparing to shoot a blast of magic in front of Ronove. Everyone else is worried but don’t know what to do cause if they tried to help, they’d get blasted, too. It seems though that Iruma himself has a plan.

Iruma plans to use Ali-san’s ability to swallow the huge amount of magic to eat the blast of it the beast is going to release saying he thought it was possible since Ali-san is the Ring of Gluttony. Arikured is surprised by this and complains at first but agrees he could do such a thing but Iruma's strength will be needed to succeed.

Remember that spell Iruma learned before about changing the appearance of something? Iruma uses that magic spell to turn Ali-san into this... cat thing. Giant cat thing idk so it could swallow the magic. Ali-san swallows the entire beast and let it explode inside him. Once it was over, the sky clears up, too. The plan totally worked and Ali-san is full!

Does this mean Iruma could use the power that got eaten from the beasts?

Trouble is over and Iruma gets together with his friends again. His friends were all worried about him though and Kalego-sensei came up to tell him he'd been reckless again. Iruma says he hasn't forgotten about what Kalego-sensei had said before at the home visit and that he had now finally understood what sensei meant. He was so used to danger due to almost always being in one himself that he never realized how bad such situations were until everyone else he cared about got affected. He adds that he gave it everything he's got even though he wasn't sure he'd even win because he wants to protect everyone and holding onto that ideal is part of his "desire".

I’m happy this arc helped some of them grow and show the growth of those who already have. Pretty cool.

Random screenshot but I just wanna direct your attention to fluffy Kalego-sensei who is being adorable right now. I cannot take him seriously when he’s like this and even when he’s angry, this form makes it look adorable.

Back to the story.

While all the mess is happening on the surface, Kiriwo-senpai has finally been found by the Six Fingers who are there to help him escape under the orders of Baal. The other escaping inmates are also in the area but still behind bars and Kiriwo-senpai tells them that he never planned to help them escape alongside him and never said he'd do such thing in the first place.

I kinda feel bad for them but they are also bad people so, eh.

Upon donning the same coat the Six Fingers' wear, one of the prisoners had the realization that unlike all of them there who are merely "bad", Kiriwo is actually "evil".

One of the Six Fingers asked why they couldn't just let the prisoners escape, too as it'll help in causing chaos and Kiriwo-senpai answers that seeing the despair the prisoners are gonna be in when they realize they'd never be let out despite going this far will be fun to see. Plus, they're not strong enough and will be caught again anyways.

I missed seeing Kiriwo-senpai’s evil hairstyle. It’s been a while. I guess this answers the question I had back in season 1: Kiriwo-senpai chose to be evil. Sad but I should’ve seen it coming.

Back on the surface, a parade starts and on the float are the heroes who saved Walter Park. While Iruma is properly mentioned, the owner, Rossevelt also shows off his son (Ronove does call him Legend-daddy as in the English word lol). The owner thanks Iruma for saving the park and calls him a hero.

They look alike except for the mustache and hair length. Anime genetics never fail. Does Legend-daddy also sing his own bgm?

Unbeknownst to our heroes, Kiriwo-senpai is around the corner watching the parade. He's surprised to find out that not only was Iruma also at Walter Park at this time but Iruma is also the one to defeat the beast. Instead of being angry at another evil plan foiled, Kiriwo-senpai says that this must be destiny and was happy to see Iruma. He was gonna walk out into the crowd but snaps out of this happy state by a call from Baal.

Senpai really blurs the line between love and hate cause he acts similarly when it comes to Iruma. Congrats to the fans of this ship for getting this scene and also, I still don’t know the ship name for them. How do I tag this?

Back to the phone call, Baal isn't happy that the park still stands. Walter Park is created to vent out demons' evil cycle after all and he has no need for that in his goals as he prefers that the demons go way beyond the evil cycle and just become ultimately evil. Unfortunately for him, the authorities are coming and they can't really do much else so he tells Kiriwo-senpai and the rest to escape already.

After being told to escape, Kiriwo-senpai says that this isn’t the end and declares that he and Iruma will meet again as they are destined enemies.

I guess in Iruma’s harem, he’s the “enemies to lovers” love interest lol.

Iruma looks at the direction where Kiriwo-senpai was but of course, he doesn’t see anything and he’s none the wiser.

Opera gives Iruma back his backpack at the float. As Iruma looks inside for his stuff, he finds the note his grandfather gave him of things he must do on his trip with the final one on the list being "Have fun with everyone!". Iruma looks at his smiling friends and thinks that even though a lot of scary things happened today, he still did have fun with them. Aww so cute!

Iruma gets reunited with his worried grandpa who goes to the hotel to check on him. Iruma says he couldn't go home early as Ronove's dad let them stay at the hotel as thanks for saving the park. Ronove’s dad adds that they are also Sullivan's students so he's happy to give them such things. Iruma tells his grandpa that he's happy and okay and that the teachers and Opera protected them. Grandpa Sullivan decided that the three adults would be given the job of protecting Iruma from now on (and Kalego-sensei felt a chill down his spine elsewhere in the hotel lol).

These two adults are the same. They probably won’t stop talking about their kids if you’re around them. Reminds me of FMA’s Maes Hughes (thought still makes me sad).

While the teachers are discussing information about the attacks, Kalego-sensei goes to his room to find his team on the bed making fun of the stuff he said earlier much to his annoyance. The boys said wanted to stay in the teachers' room as it's better than the room they got but Kalego-sensei quickly kicks them out.

The girls also get rewards and are allowed to get any clothes they wanted which made them happy. Ronove’s dad is pretty generous, huh? Like, I know these guys deserve it for all their hard work but the guy looks so happy that he’d probably still be nice to them even without all the trouble happening.

They are all also given an all-you-can-eat buffet. Iruma eats a ton of food obviously. Clara is having fun at the chocolate fountain thing and Ronove is trying to make Agares eat. Those two got close, huh? lol I wonder if Ronove’s doing this to try and make Agares unattractive or something. It’ll be cool if they became friends though with their very contrasting personalities and all.

While everyone is having fun inside, Iruma leaves without anyone else realizing except for Ameri who decides to follow. They end up at the rooftop by themselves with Ameri trying to calm herself down as she's thinking of romantic stuff as it’s just the two of them. Iruma then reminds Ameri of the question she asked him before about his goal and tells her he finally found one: he wants have fun with everyone. He's willing to change in order to be able to protect that ideal of his. Ameri is happy to see Iruma has grown.

Ameri decided that she also wants to give it her all for her own desires and ambitions. She then tries to tell Iruma something but sadly she gets cockblocked by Clara and Azz both appearing. Ameri gives up for now and tells Iruma to just go with his friends.

Before leaving, Iruma asks Ameri a question - the same thing she was going to ask him earlier! He asks if they could hang out sometimes but just the two of them and she passes out from this lol.

Congratulations to Iruma x Ameri fans for getting a scene like this, too. I also don’t know the ship name for them. Anyways, why is it just the senpais getting a moment with Iruma? Ameri has been getting a lot of moments, too and it’s making me wonder if she’s endgame.

lol also, Ameri is worried about the other female rivals not realizing there’s another threat somewhere else.

While all that teen drama is happening, both Romiere's dad and Iruma's grandpa are being interviewed on tv. The two men then tell everyone how their kids and those kids' friends are the heroes of Walter Park. Since Iruma's name had been specifically mentioned (with everyone knowing the heroes are "Iruma and friends"), there ends up being reporters outside the hotel wanting to see Iruma the next day. Iruma, of course, doesn't like this popularity. With the thought that there may also be reporters waiting at his home, Clara offers to let Iruma stay at her house.

Oooh... will we finally get Iruma x Clara and Iruma x Azz moments as well? Hehehe

There's something new in the ED video by the way! This used to be for Kuromu but now it’s for these boys! Cute!

---

I’m guessing this is the end of this arc? I wonder what the last one will be since we only have like, what, 6 episodes more? What kind of arc will it be, I wonder cause this one had battles.

Okay, the end where the heroes are mentioned to be “Iruma and friends”, I’m happy and surprised that none of the others were bothered by this at all. No one complained about why Iruma is the only one specifically named. It didn’t cause a fight between the entire group unlike what would’ve happened if this was any other story. I get why Iruma got proper credit as he is the one to end the incident and saved everyone around from being fried but his friends did a lot of work, too and it’d have been better if they were all credited properly in the news. None of them were mad though and are happy that they won because they did their best.

Ronove calling his dad “Legend-daddy” will never not be cute and funny to me. His dad, despite being rich enough to own this entire park, isn’t an annoying, arrogant asshole and I like that. I’m happy that most characters in this show subvert my expectations and they make me like them more.

I’m sorry if I don’t tag ships in my mairuma posts but I don’t know any of the series’ ship names lol. Speaking of ships, as I mentioned before, Ameri’s been getting a lot of moments with Iruma or focus on her growing feelings for Iruma. Kiriwo-senpai only showed up a bit in this arc and got a bit for himself, too. Kuromu and Clara only had a bit when Iruma went evil cycle and I wonder if they’d get more, too. I personally ship him with Azz so I wish they’d gets some moments as well. Eiko gets hers mostly on the “Interval” segments.

So... is it possible to have a mairuma dating sim or not? Look at how many routes are available! XD

Anyways, focus next time is on Clara’s family probably with Iruma spending time there. I expect another Valac Family musical! XD

Thanks for reading!

#Mairimashita! Iruma-kun #welcome to demon school iruma-kun #sana_post

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ancientwastedlores · 3 years

Text

Troubles and Giggles

REQUEST: Hi!!! Could I ask for a Tom Hiddleston x actress. They are working on a new movie together and she realises she has feelings for Tom...Tom also realised he has feelings for her too and its all just really fluffy and cute please. Thank you darling 💜💜💜

A/N: Yeah, yeah, it’s been a hot minute. I have a job now *gasp* where people pay me to write. How the hell did that happen. ANYWAY, I had this request sitting in my Ask for a while, so here you go! I did put my own little spin on it, hope you like it!

WORD COUNT: 1165

WARNING: none. It’s all fluff <3

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Troubles and Giggles

This press tour felt more like a vacation with friends than work. You, Tom, and Anthony Mackie were regularly paired together, and it was absolute chaos every time. Mackie’s stories, Hiddleston’s charm, and your wit made for excellent interviews. And you were sure Marvel knew it too.

This was probably your sixth one together. You were almost paired with Tom Holland for this one, when Marvel decided Benedict would be a better fit for the Spoiler Machine.

‘It’s just business’ Benedict told you, patting you on the back, ‘Don’t take it personally’.

‘Excuse you, I adore my time with Mackie and Hiddleston. You’re seriously missing out. Too bad you have to babysit’.

‘Hey!’ Holland cried.

‘Sit down with your juice box, Tom’ Anthony said, walking into the room.

The three of you were sat in your hotel room, just relaxing before it was time for the interviews. Tom Hiddleston, as usual, was taking his sweet time to get ready, and Anthony showed up in a form fitting, brilliant military green jacket and shades.

‘Anthony, be nice’ you said, but unable to hide your smile.

There was a knock at the door, and it opened a second later. A young woman poked her head in and beamed as she saw Benedict. ‘Uh, sorry… every one ready? I’m here to escort you to your interviews’.

Everyone stood up, and Tom popped in right that second. ‘I’m not late, am I?’

‘You’re always conveniently on time, darling’ you said flirtatiously, causing Anthony to shake his head and roll his eyes.

‘So Y/N, I’ve heard something about you’.

‘OH… OOOHH’

You shook your head at Anthony’s childishness and looked at the interviewer. ‘And what’s that?’ you asked.

‘You had a bit of a reputation on set, right?’

‘Oh god’ you hung your head in an attempt to hide your face.

‘Tell em!’

‘Anthony, stop…’

‘In fact, Anthony Mackie even posted a picture on his Instagram’ the interviewer, Jess, opens a screen on her laptop, ‘now… what’s happening here?’.

The picture popped up on her screen. It was later in the production and it was one particular day when Loki and Thor had a lot of scenes and the actors were pretty exhausted. You were on break, and Anthony was shooting another scene in the lot across. When it was time for a break, Tom practically fell on the couch next to you, and Chris Hemsworth went to his trailer and passed out.

Tom was in quite a state, and you felt a little sorry. Before you became an actress, you did all sorts of odd jobs, one of them a masseuse. So, you told him you would massage his back for a couple of minutes. He protested, you insisted, and he continued protesting while you moved behind the couch and put your hands right where his shoulders meet his neck. Just then, Anthony happened to take a break too and saw you. He took a photo at the worst possible moment. With both you and Tom in costume, his face of distress, and your hands on his neck, it looked like you were trying to choke him.

Sure enough, the picture made it to Anthony’s gram, with the caption “Everyone’s trying to kill Loki #shootdays”

Anthony was nearly falling off his chair laughing while you and Tom tried to keep a straight face.

‘Look… he was having a hard time… I wanted to help!’ you defended.

‘Well, that’s fair’ the interviewer said, ‘But it seems you got a bit of a reputation’.

‘I may or may not have been asked by other cast members for a massage’.

‘She refused’ Anthony said, ‘Apparently Tom is the only one who gets one’.

‘You posted that picture; you lost all privileges!’

Now the interviewer laughed, while Tom only blushed.

‘Was it a good massage?’ Jess asked Tom.

Tom did his signature laugh – tongue out, eyes tightly shut, and annoyingly elegant and soft. ‘Yes, yes very much. It was wonderful massage’.

‘Well, I wouldn’t know’ Anthony said, causing Jess to laugh again.

‘Can we talk about the movie? I mean… Loki joins the Avengers; you have to have more questions about that!’

After that, you got down to business… as much as you could, with Anthony dropping fake spoilers.

At a photoshoot with the whole cast in Korea, you noticed Tom made it a point to stand right next to you. He pulled you close to him and put his arm around your waist. It felt warm and familiar.

‘Ready? 1… 2… 3, say New Avengers!’

‘NEW AVENGERS!’

Celebratory drinks for wrapping up the press tour were hosted by RDJ, the one and only. Loud music, food, alcohol, and lots and lots of laughing were the order of the evening.

You were sat next to Zoe Saldhana and Karen Gillan, telling them a hilarious story about Tom Holland nearly dropping another spoiler, when Mackie sauntered up to you and nudged you with his elbow. He used his beer to point at Tom, who was sitting alone and having a drink.

‘We both know you got a crush on him’ he said, winking at you.

‘What!?’

‘Both? We all know’ Karen said. ‘Go get em, girl’ she said in her Scottish accent, making it sound funnier.

‘Come on, you don’t give anybody else massages!’ Anthony exclaimed.

‘That’s not true, Karen, I gave you one just yesterday!’

The three of them look at you with raised eyebrows.

‘I hate you guys’. You get up and go to Tom, whose face brightened instantly.

‘What are you having?’ you asked.

‘Whiskey. You?’

‘Same’ you waved your glass.

There was an awkward silence. You had been alone together before, but somehow in the middle of a party, this felt even more intimate.

‘Why you here all by yourself, mister?’ you asked teasingly.

‘Ah, what to say, Y/n. Troubles plague the mind’ he smiled at his own joke.

‘Any you’d want to share with me?’

He looked at you with a mixture of sadness and utter love.

‘For one… I am in love, and while nothing stops me from telling her I love her, I fear she doesn’t love me back’.

‘Maybe you should ask her’.

‘Maybe I should’.

Silence. You each took a sip of your drink. You swirled yours around in your glass, waiting.

‘Um… you were talking about me then, right?’ you asked.

His eyes widened and he laughed. ‘Yes! Yes, oh my god, I’m sorry, did that scare you?’

‘No, for a second I was like “um is it not me” and I was prepared to just smash my face with a pie and leave’.

‘No! Don’t do that, you have a gorgeous face’ he said in a voice so earnest your heart melted.

‘What, you wouldn’t love this face with a pie on it?’

He laughed harder. He took your hand in his and kissed it, then pulled you close and kissed your lips. You smiled against him, giggling, and you could faintly hear Karen, Zoe, and Anthony cheer in the distance.

____________________________________

Hope you liked it! Click here for the Masterlist Fic requests are open, you can check out the request guidelines here.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fluff #avengers fandom #Avengers #loki x you #loki x reader #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston fanfiction #loki fluff

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yeongwvnhi · 3 years

Text

You and I on top of it all

This one is quite the brutal piece of work so proceed with caution and be mindful of the warnings. Do tell me if I missed something possibly triggering.

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Pairing - Oneus Hyung line (only one makes it) x fem reader

Genre - Angst, Suspense, Suggestive, Horror, Gore

Warnings - murder, violence, blood, weapons, language, death, injuries, guns, shooting, graphic descriptions of murder and violence, romanticizing these themes for the plot

Taglist - @twancingyunhoe @runaway-fics @bearseokie @kingleedo @malzenn

Word count - 3k

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It was 11pm and you were hurrying down the street to get back home. You weren't planning on being outside when it started. Last year still left you shaking in your boots, but this year you will turn the table and stop being afraid.

What exactly is it?

It is the purge. The day every crime is made legal and services like police, firefighters or paramedics aren't available.

Originally you were planning on just hiding out somewhere safe until the 12 hours were over but not this year. This time you wanted to let loose, go absolutely crazy and see where the night will take you. Maybe you'll find a companion or more? Maybe you'll die, who knows?

Back on topic.. Why were you even out this late? Simple. You bought some nice weapons for tonight. What were those weapons? An array of knives, a bat with spikes and even a damn katana. This time you wouldn't hold back.

A guy came your way and immediately changed course after seeing your array of weapons. This was exactly what you wanted people to do. Fear you, be scared for their life and just run as far away as they could from you.

Eyeing the clock above your TV in the living room while taking off your shoes, you realize that it's barely 11:20pm. The fun would have to wait.

With a shrug you move into your bedroom to put on tonight's outfit. You were going crazy tonight and no one would hold you back, not even your damn clothes.

You have carefully picked out your clothes a few days ago just for tonight. All black to blend into the night, your casual tight fitting jeans and shirt and your newly bought jacket. There you would store all the knives since it had a lot of pockets.

The sound of a notification from your phone made you stop examining yourself in your mirror and with an eye roll you go to check.

Hwanwoong: Hey Y/N, I know that you will be partaking in tonight's purge… I hope you won't die so I can see you again soon..

Your best friend has always been worried about you and everything that could happen.

You: I will be just fine, Woong, don't worry. You better be safe tho or I will kill you.

After you sent your reply, you didn't bother to check if he answered. You wouldn't be taking your phone with you tonight. Everything else besides your weapons will be staying in your apartment tonight… besides your keys, you decided to give them to your friendly neighbor since he would be waiting out the event tonight.

Once again your eyes find the clock and a small smile slowly crawls onto your lips. 11:30pm. Soon the fun would begin and you just couldn't wait to finally get your sweet, sweet revenge.

You secure your sword around your back with the holster and then take your baseball bat. These spikes were so sharp and you couldn't wait to see the damage they would cause.

The weight of your jacket slowly increased the more knives you put into the pockets and you were so full of adrenalin, to find the person who took everything from you.

11:45pm, the crazed smile slowly made its way back onto your lips. Just a little while.

You got up and put your also black leather boots on, tired of waiting for the chaos to unfold.

With the baseball bat in one hand and your keys in the other you exit your apartment. You lock the door and go to knock on your neighbor's door.

The man opens the door and you give him a less crazy smile upon seeing the fear in his eyes. "Hey Keonhee, don't worry i just came here to drop off my keys!" You say and hold up said object.

The taller guy visibly relaxes and smiles back at you. "You scared me there, Y/N"

"Sorry~" you chuckle and put your keys into his outstretched palm. "Please be safe, yeah?"

Keonhee chuckles nervously and nods. "You too"

"Oh I will" you reply, "I'm going to go now. I'll see you tomorrow at 12"

He closes the door and you hear several locks clicking shut behind it, one after another.

You swing the bat up and rest it on your shoulder, mindful of the spikes, and walk down the street. It was awfully quiet now and your gaze meets the giant digital clock on a huge building.

11:53pm

"Hey!" Someone calls after you and you halt in your steps. "Where are you heading to?"

You turn around and look at the guy. Tall, black hair and also full black attire. "Why would you wanna know? But I suppose you already know the answer judging from your choice of clothing"

He walks closer and you now fully see his features. He looks too good to be true. The black turtleneck sweater isn't helping your thoughts either. "You're right" he replies with a sinister smirk. "I'm also going to fuck up someone's life"

You immediately felt drawn to him, he looked just as crazed as you right now.

But that didn't mean you'd stay here any longer to chat away, no. It was almost time and you wanted to get your hands dirty.

So you give the guy an almost too nice looking smile and turn back around.

"Hey, where are you going?" He asks and you hear his fast paced footsteps approach you. "Don't just leave a conversation like that"

You chuckle and start swinging your bat around. "I don't really care about conversations right now, pretty boy"

The Guy scoffs, but you see his smirk in your peripheral vision. "So… are you out for someone special tonight? Or do you just want to blow off some steam?"

"Does it really matter?" You question in return and meet his eyes for a second. "Also, who even are you?"

"I'm Youngjo" He replies and shoots you a grin, this time less sinister. "And I guess it does? I could help you out"

He did have a point, maybe he would actually be of help. "Fine" you nod. "Someone-"

A loud alarm shakes the silence of the city, the purge has started.

The two of you immediately look at each other with an excited expression. "Fuck it, let's spill some blood" he says and grabs you by the wrist, dragging you right into the chaos of people running around left and right.

You manage to escape his grip and fasten your pace to match his.

"Out of my way!" Someone yells and you see a guy running straight at you.

No way you're having that shit tonight. "Fuck off!" You spit back and swing your baseball bat right at the guy's head.

Pretty much to his horror because he can't stop and runs straight into your death trap. His skull smashes against your spiky weapon and you feel his blood splattering onto your face.

Youngjo has stopped running the moment he heard you spitting back at that guy and witnessed the gory scene. He felt his heart skip a beat and met your eyes, both of you dazed.

"That felt so fucking good" You murmur and Youngjo nods eagerly. For that moment the two of you completely blended out the chaos around you.

Until there were gunshots, that's when you reacted and pulled him into an alleyway, hiding behind the wall to not get shot.

Youngjo cornered you against the wall, one hand beside your head for balance. He had his gaze fixated on your side profile while you were checking where the gunshots were coming from.

"Hey" The tall guy mumbles and your attention belongs to him this instant. "I never thought I'd think that watching a girl smashing a guy's head in would be this hot"

You click your tongue and roll your eyes, but can't help the smirk that appears slowly. "You're crazy"

Youngjo's head falls down and he breathes out a chuckle before looking you dead in the eye. "It would be boring if I wasn't, wouldn't it, sweetheart?"

You can't deny the tingling feeling you felt in your stomach at that and your free hand went up to the back of his neck. "Shut up"

"Make me"

"What the fuck are you doing?" A new voice interrupts the two of you. "Wait- Hyung?"

You turn to look at the guy, annoyance written all over your face for having interrupted the moment. "I fucking hate you for this"

The guy chuckles nervously and Youngjo leans away to stand at a normal distance. "Why are you here, Seoho? And where is Geonhak?"

"You didn't just ask me that" he retorts and holds up a bloody machete. "Obviously I'm out for blood tonight"

A shiver runs down your spine, the vibes that guy gives off are insane. Quite literally.

"Oh" Youngjo's mouth forms an o-shape. "I see. But now where is Geonhak?"

"Ah! Right" Seoho piques up and nods his head in the left direction. "He started chasing some weirdo who was about to get a bit too comfy with this girl"

"Still the nice guy even during a time like this, huh?" Youngjo laughs. "Anyway, we should continue our little fun game now, shouldn't we?"

You grin and pick up your bat. "We should just go as a group, covering more people n shit"

"What's your name?" Seoho asks you out of the blue, nodding at your suggestion.

"Oh, I'm Y/N" You reply before making your way out of the alley and onto the street. "And I see a group of people right up front"

"Let's spill some blood then, shall we?" Youngjo smirks.

The two guys follow you and you hear one of them clinking blades together.

"Hey you!" You shout and the group of four, three guys and a girl, look at you. "Wanna die?!"

"What are you gonna do, little girl?" One of the guys shouts back and you halt in your steps.

With a dark chuckle, you open your jacket and pull out a knife. "I'll fucking kill you" is your only response as you throw the knife at him. It connects with his thigh, making him scream in pain and fall to the ground.

"You have good aim, doll" Youngjo mumbles while passing by you. "Now I'll finish him"

"Leave some fun for me too!" Seoho whines and just runs at the group of people, slicing the girls throat with his machete with ease.

Her blood pours out of the massive gash and you hear her gurgling on the liquid.

One of the two unharmed guys squares up against Youngjo, but he's at a disadvantage in height.

Youngjo makes quick work of the guy, pulling out a knife from a pocket on his pants and stabbing him in the chest. He pushes the guy away from him and he collapses on the corpse of the girl.

The fourth guy must've ran away so it's only the injured man on the ground and your little group.

"Finish him! Finish him c'mon!" Seoho jumps around and you look at Youngjo, but he just nods towards the guy. Your sign to kill him.

"Too bad that you will die now, huh?" You say and lunge the bat right into his face, killing him right on the spot. "Bastard" You spit and pull out your knife from his thigh and put it back where you took it from.

"Jesus christ" Seoho murmurs and you look at him. "That was fucking hot"

You shake off the remains of the guy's brain from your bat. "Shut up" you hiss, slightly flustered. "We should find your friend instead"

"Right" Youngjo agrees. "Let's go"

He leads the way with Seoho and you following behind.

"So… are you out for someone special tonight?" Seoho asks and looks at you through his sharp eyes. "You look tense, darling"

"I probably won't find him anyways, I'm tense because I don't know if I will die tonight" You give him your answer and hold your bat just a little bit tighter. "So I'm going to use that as my fuel to create as much chaos as I can"

"I see~" He chirps and focuses back on Youngjo who's still leading the way.

After a bit more walking, the two guys spot their friend sitting next to a wall, gun in hand and blood on his hands and face.

"Geonhak, what the fuck happened" Youngjo asks him straight away and kneels in front of him.

"I killed that asshole, but I also accidently shot the girl. They're both dead" he mumbles, but a satisfied grin forms on his lips. "Now she won't suffer anymore"

"Hey get up, we gotta create more chaos!" Seoho urges and you exhale a breathy laugh.

"I think there are a lot of people in the inner city. It's getting louder the closer we get" You say and nod in the vague direction. "Let's go guys"

"Ooohh sure~" Seoho immediately agrees and Youngjo also looks pleased with your suggestion.

"Oh you guys brought a companion?" Geonhak asks and stands up. "What's your name pretty girl?"

You shake the hair out of your face and scoff at the compliment. "I'm Y/N. Now let's go!"

"I know a shortcut" Seoho exclaims. "It's just-"

"No! Your shortcuts are dangerous as fuck!" Youngjo rejects his suggestion.

"C'mon let's just go this way" you tell Seoho. "We can take your shortcut on our way back, alright?"

"Fine" He grumbles in response.

Your group quickly gets to the big commotion in the inner city and you just decide to let hell break loose.

Geonhak starts shooting whoever comes into focus, Youngjo aimlessly stabs people in his way and Seoho attacks everything in his way.

"Let's dance little lady" some weirdo says and faces you, pipe in his hand. "Got ya!" He yells and strikes at you.

You dodge in the last moment, swinging your spiky bat at the dude's face, making him stumble back in surprise. "You got a mean one there, hun. Would be a shame if it went out of your hands, right?"

"Shut up asshole" you hiss and and take another swing at him, this time grazing his arm with a spike and making it bleed.

"That hurt you stupid bitch" he spits with venom. "I'll end you"

"Good luck" you huff and take a step back.

"What-" before he can finish his sentence, you hear a gunshot and blood splattering everywhere.

"Nice shot Geonhak!" You shout and give the man a thumb up. "Saved my ass"

After that little exchange you quickly go on and just smash in people heads left and right.

One was a tough nut though.

"You've got some nerves, little girl" a tall man smirks after he smacked the bat out of your hands and a good distance away from you. "Attacking others from behind. Tch"

"Stop talking, bastard" you growl and pull out your katana, glad you took it with you. "I'll kill you"

"Try to~" he laughs and throws a punch, but you step aside at the last second.

"Go to hell!" You yell and swing your blade at him, slicing his cheek and leaving him in shock.

"You'll pay for that you damn bitch"

After that, a painful shout came from behind you and you heard Geonhak calling out Youngjo's name.

"Shit-" you go to turn around and leave this fucker behind, but he kicks away your legs and you fall to the ground.

"Fuck you" you huff in pain, the katana luckily still in your hand. That's when you see your three companions.

Geonhak has Youngjo's head in his lap and repeatedly smacks his cheeks to get him to wake up.

But he won't.

He's dead.

"Oh noo~ Did your friend die? What a shame" the man mocks and laughs.

You clench your hand around the handle of the katana and roll onto your back and thrust the blade right into his torso.

"What-" He coughs in shock before falling to the floor backwards.

You just stand up and run towards the guys now, falling to your knees next to Youngjo's lifeless body in Geonhak's lap.

"Who did this?" You ask, emotionless, eyes void of anything but rage.

"I did" Geonhak mumbles, hanging his head. "I wanted to shoot the fucker you were fighting, but Hyung caught the bullet"

You remain silent, but you see Seoho behind Geonhak going rigid. "You… killed Youngjo Hyung…?"

"It was an accide-"

Geonhak couldn't finish his sentence. Seoho slit his throat right there and the green haired man's blood splattered your already dirty face even more.

But you weren't fazed. You couldn't help him anymore anyways.

That's when you noticed just how quiet everything suddenly was, so you looked around and saw corpses upon corpses.

"When did this happen?" You ask and look at Seoho, his blank stare not bothering you at all as you stand up.

"I killed the last person before I saw you guys here" He answers and you step away from the two men on the ground, dead and bleeding out.

You heard Seoho walking up next to you. "So this is it? We go home after this and try to get our lives back together?"

"Not necessarily" he says, "we can stay together"

"What do you mean?"

"People who kill together, stay together" he explains and smiles. He actually looks cute and for a second you forgot that he's a serial killer.

But so are you.

"That sounds nice" you smile back.

"So now it's you and I on top of it all" He whispers and pulls you in close by the waist. "You're mine"

Your hands wander up to his shoulders and you move closer. "Only yours" you mumble against his lips and he closes the gap, greedily moving his mouth against yours. His grip on your waist tightens and pulls you impossibly closer.

You'll never forget this day.

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alpacaparkaseok · 2 years

Note

The fic has just started and JK is already so adorable I wanna hold his cheekies and tell him all the nice things

The CAR SCENE 🤯... and even with all his pettiness tae was ok to me, I kind of get him. You only need to tone down the mysteriousness boy tbh you scare me sometimes.

It was so refreshing to see the trio's chemistry and the backstory(I feel so sorry for mc😔)

I remember the times when I thought hobi was some invincible (I still think that btw) and tough guy and now seeing him with mc just warms my heart. How he stood next to her, offering her comfort and warmth amid of chaos.

Thank God Yoongi exists in the group! His experience speaks. The way he tries and succeeds in taking things under control, reminding the mc that she is the capa and she has to act like it, to me he seems like the anchor.

Jin doesn't even need any words, I just love how we can see more of his other sides and how he is a softie. I'm glad mc has jin and hobi, while yoongi looks out for other stuff both of them keep her mentally stable. If yoongs us group anchir they are her personal anchors.

For Bianchi's death I'm both relieved and sorry (for two reasons, 1. He was her father after all, and his death is gonna have effect on her in some way even if it is negative(as he is the source of her misery to quite a large extent). 2. Now, after Bianchi's death where does it leave the group, and in which direction do they move?), but now that he is out of the way their next step must be overthrowing the crime syndicate. And now they have another goal to accomplish, 😡Yadiel 😡.

Also how I thought Bianchi was the villian and it was Yadiel all along 😮.

I'm still rooting for Jimin cuz boy just has a way with words, and he seems so innocent and vulnerable I just don't want him to get hurt.

Namjoon👀 you? have? a? backstory? with? the? Yadiel guy?? plz don't hurt my poor baby 🥺

B sweety, could you plz pass Yadiel the note.

You, Yadiel you get yourself together or I am gonna personally 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪(they ard 8 for 8 of them and 🔪 this one's for the pain you caused me)you and then only thing u will be collecting is yourself. Getting into the story and finding you to beat ya up is not much of a task anyway as I'm already pretty invested.

This by far my favourite chapter❣

~🌼.

Ok so here's what I've taken away from this ask:

1. JK deserves the whole world. (I think we're all in agreement here lol)

2. Tae isn't completely lost on you, you get where he's coming from, but he can be a lil...intimidating with all the mystery surrounding him. (same man, same.)

3. Jin and Hobi = Personal Anchors. I can totally get behind that.

4. Yoongi = Professional Anchor. Yes ma'am, you must have seen my response to other asks haha because we're on the same page here

5. Oh yeah, Hobi totally is invincible. We'll get some more moments with him in upcoming chapters (as well as possibly a few flashbacks, we'll see I guess), but he's a total bad-A who has his priorities mostly straight.

6. Yes, Bianchi is dead and gone and our y/n had nothing to do with it. Yadiel beat her to the punch, and now our little mafia crew is realizing they have bigger fish to fry. Poor guys. It'll be interesting to see how y/n copes/processes everything moving forward!

7. YES Namjoon very much so has a backstory and it's about to unfold so welcome to the third phase of this story, it's about to get wild.

8. Team Jimin, assemble! You're still hanging in there, I see. Jimin is amazing and will definitely get to shoot his shot moving forward!

So happy you liked the chapter! It's going to be a blast moving forward, I hope you enjoy it! And I'll be sure to pass Yadiel the note haha

#🌼 anon #b:asks #htss:asks

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kathyprior4200 · 3 years

Text

Welcome to Wacky Wally Wackford’s World!

Greetings, I say, greetings demons of all ages! The name’s Wally Wackford, an oh so suave man of business! You may not know me, but surely you’ve seen me…pretty much everywhere. Yes, I’ve never been the type to stay in one place for long. Life can be pretty wild at times. But that’s what makes it oh so fun!

So what’s my story, you say, you say? Well look no further, ‘cause I have a tale to tell.

I’ve been doing freelance work off and on, laboring at one job, moving onto the next. The jobs vary a lot, but I’m a Wally of many trades. (Yes, I’ve been fired many times as well, figuratively and literally…it is Hell after all.) Early on, I found out that living in poverty is never a lot of fun. I quickly learned how to scam other people…and boy did I enjoy it! It was the only way I could inch toward the top, get some power of my own. I’d make a few deals here and there and then when clients got desperate, I’d say something like, “Oh I’m so sorry but there’s an extra fee you have to pay. Forgot to mention that.” Then I’d point to that small scribbled section on the contract I added in moments ago.

“I’m starving, sir!” they’d say. Or, “I left my money at home,” or my favorite: “Shove it up your trickster rear!”

Sometimes they did pay me extra. Other times they didn’t…and those were the ones who soon forgot about everything forever. (chuckles).

Anyway, moving on.

Sometimes when my days got long and hard, I’d go to saloons for a nice bottled drink. The emerald colored Greed Mead is my favorite. Twirling my thin black mustache, I’d wink at some pretty imp gals nearby and say, “Hey there. You’ve been in Hell for a long time. Is that why you’re so hot?”

Most of the time, I’d get a swift punch to the face in response. The glares on their pretty faces, “Take that remark to the Sloth Ring, lazy bootleg fucker.”

So many aggressive people these days. I could tip my black hat to many imps and they’d either fall to my charms or roll their eyes. I was fine with that. There’s not much else to do in Hell then to live your life and amuse yourself with watching others struggle. In fact, pretty much every sin is encouraged, so why not keep going?

After stalking around looking for more people to scam, I came across Loo-Loo Land in the Ring of Greed. I’ve always loved that place, its vibrant atmosphere emitting joyful fun and chaotic flair. I walked on over and asked the vendor, “I say, you have any jobs here?”

“I’ve heard of you, Wacky Wally,” he said at the ticket stand. “You may be a good pick-pocket, but your skills are nothing compared to Mammon. In fact, this whole place is a fucking rip-off of Lucifer’s Lu-Lu Land!”

“All the more reason to love this place!” I exclaimed.

“Robo Fizz is putting on another show at 7pm tomorrow,” said the beefy imp vendor. “Made in Mammon’s factory and modeled after the famous imp Fizzarolli.” He then spoke in a low whisper, “It includes some behind the scenes moments for the VIPs…you know, with tentacles and ‘special features.’”

“Oh that sounds delicious!” I said with a slow grin. “It’d be great to see how his…mechanics work someday…”

The imp vendor rolled his eyes and flinched at my lighthearted comment. Always know what to say to get that grimace reaction.

“Anyway,” said the vendor, “We’re running low on staff, so you can go sell those torches over there.”

The imp pointed to a pink cart with Mammon’s jester face on it. I shrugged and got to work.

I happily rolled my cart around, selling torches wherever I went. I could honestly stare into those mesmerizing green flames all day.

“Torches here!” I drawled in my Foghorn Leghorn southern accent. “66% off when you buy four! Parties, decoration, destruction and more!”

One time on my break, I got to talk to Robo Fizz about money, shows, sex and chaos. We even cracked some jokes together. The robot seemed a little nervous in my presence but then again, he was very unpredictable on a daily basis.

“A duck, a frog, a demon and a skunk go into a bar. The bartender told them that the drinks were one dollar each. How did they pay for them? Answer: The duck had a bill, the frog had a greenback, the demon had a soul…but the skunk only had a scent!”

“Hahahaha!” Robo Fizz laughed, sparks flying near him. “Your jokes are much better than Blitzo’s corny puns!”

“Why thank you,” I replied. “But nothing beats your organ-playing animatronics in your ‘Wonderful World of Evil’ puppet show you did last month.”

Robo Fizz grinned at the compliment. “You do anything else besides selling torches?”

“I scam, I kill, I do a little bit of both. Oh and I’m also a great inventor!”

“How marvelous!” Robo Fizz grinned. “Perhaps if you have enough mayhem in you, you could perform with me at the next Fizzarolli N Friends show!”

“I say, I’d love that! I’m sure your show will be top notch, copyright be dammed…won’t it?”

Robo Fizz smiled widely, hiding a strain. “You bet it will!”

It was during one interesting day when I pushed my cart by a large tent where several Robo Fizz posters were posted. I held up a troch with a hand and called:

“Torches, I say! I say! Get your inconvenient torches here!”

Then before I knew it, the robot and a random imp crashed right into the cart.

“Ow, I say OW!” I cried as the green flames quickly spread around. After getting the flames off me, I ran for the hills out of the burning park. I sat, dejected shortly afterward. So much for that job. Along with figuring out what to do next, I also happened to watch the imp fight off Robo Fizz…and the robot falling into the dragon’s mouth.

How unfortunate.

After helping Robo Fizz from the dragon’s insides, (killing said dragon, pulling out said robot, cleaning and making quick repairs), I inched closer to him and said, “You made some new friends, I say.”

Robo Fizz stood tense with just long wires for his body, a metal skeleton of his previous appearance. “Yes…an old time co-worker of mine. A clown of an imp named Blitzo. He and his sisters were once part of a circus act called “The Amazing Imp Siblings. A bit dowdy if you ask me. ”

Robo Fizz looked around. “Hahahaha! That was some chaotic fun. But now the park is ruined!”

“I say, if I were you,” I told him, “I’d do all I could to get this park repaired and back on track. Costs a whole lotta money. The last thing you need is to have your boss disappointed in you.”

A brief look of fear came on his face. “Oh yes, yes, good idea, Wally.”

“And your friend…whether you upstage him or what, you’d best be sure Blitzo stays out of trouble. I lost my job and almost my life because of that fight!” My yellow eyes shined in a show of sadness.

“I-I will not let master Mammon down…not that I have a choice.”

“Let Asmodeus know what’s up as well.”

Robo Fizz nodded, spun away and laughed. “Time to find that rodeo clown imp!”

0 0 0

Later on after leaving Greed, I got a brilliant idea. It was after I saw some old fashioned 1800s snake man in Pride plow down buildings with a metal bulldozer vehicle. That was it! I could start my own business!

I walked over to 666 News station. “Oh Katie,” I said in my sweetest voice.

“What is it, scum?” she asked, sitting at a mirror and doing her hair. “Can’t you see I’m preparing for a back to back broadcast right now?”

“I was considering doing my very own commercial about me exploiting…erm, employing other demons for my new factory.”

Katie barked out a laugh. “Good luck with that, filthy old man! Now get out of my studio.”

“Very well,” I said. As quiet as a hell mouse, I snatched a camera with an eye at the center and made my way out the door. The rest of the materials I needed came from a nearby junkyard. (Thankfully I avoided the wrath of some hungry kangaroo parasitic queen demon). I was running out of money fast; with no job around the corner, I figured I’d start my own!

Even I don’t really know where I got my inventing skills from. Many say it was my natural trait. Others say I learned from other experts in the trade. After all, one of the quickset ways to a man’s wallet is through the latest technology.

But I, Wally Wackford would not settle for your standard modern devices. No. I preferred to make things…well, wacky.

In no time at all, I had built myself my own mini studio where I could film my commercial! Now, what to call my company? Hmm…

The Onceler One In a Lifetime Opportunity? No, not enough Ws.

Wowing Whimsical Wonderous Wonders? Nah, too many Ws.

Ah…of course! What is a company if you don’t have your name on it?

0 0 0

“Uh huh, keep going, keep going, keep going!” Blitzo insisted at the I.M.P. office.

Moxxie switched the channel again. This time, an imp appeared wearing a large black top hat, a white shirt and pants, gray vest, black bow tie and black boots. He held a cane in his hands and he also had a thin curly mustache. A mischievous grin of sharp teeth appeared on his face.

“I say, I say!” the imp exclaimed, briefly pointing his cane at the camera. “Are you looking to get work making crazy contraptions and goofy gadgets?” “Crazy Contraptions” and “Goofy Gadgets” appeared in bold spiked icons to the imp’s left and right. The imp twirled his cane.

“Well call me at Wacky Wally Wackford’s Wacky Idea ‘Factory!’”

He pulled down another screen. The title appeared in bold red, gray and white letters surrounded by pinkish circles reminiscent of classic cartoons. “Factory” appeared in quotations. Wally Wackford appeared again.

“Where you make the things and I make the money!”

Wally Wackford then got up closer to the camera with a pleading look. “Please, I’m very desperate!”

“Bingo!” Blitzo called, shooting and exploding the TV again.

0 0 0

It was actually really easy to find where Blitzo was and the new sinner inventors. The killing company of imps had me very curious. If they could start a business, why shouldn’t I? And being in the company of amazing inventors…

I could almost see the soul dollar bills floating into my hands.

I snuck up to the building, merged into the floor, eavesdropped on their fascinating conversation…

0 0 0

Crash!

A metal plank crashed into the room from above as Moxxie scurried out of the way. Loopty Goopty strolled down the plank. “Blitz!”

“Loofa!” Blitzo called, saying his name wrong. “We can explain everything. I was…”

Crash!

Millie pulled Moxxie out of the way before another metal plank landed in the spot where he would’ve been. From on the floor, Blitzo’s butt was very much in view. Blitzo glanced down at him and remarked, “Oh chill out Moxxie, if you kiss my ass any harder you’ll go right inside me.”

Moxxie turned beet red in the face and scooted further back. Millie helped him up again.

“Thanks for saving me again,” Moxxie said. “I would’ve foamed at the mouth and maybe died again.”

“Why would you think I would ever ignore you?”

Moxxie shrugged.

Just then, the demonic form of a man rolled down the plank. His body was black and spherical, with a mint green head wearing a black bowler hat on top. He had a large bushy light gray mustache and pince-nez goggles with dark red spirals on the lens like Loopty. His grinning teeth resembled piano keys.

“Lyle Lipton?!” Millie, Moxxie, and Blitzo asked in unison.

“I don’t understand,” said Millie. “We thought you went to Heaven.”

Lyle Lipton chuckled. “Heaven?” He rolled toward Loopty Goopty. “You don’t make millions in technological advances in robotics by not experimenting on the poor!” He laughed.

Loopy Goopty grinned as he unleashed his weapons in front of Lyle Lipton. “Finally! We meet again at last! Now that you’re dead, you have no money to keep from me!”

“Well, I’m a better inventor than you!” Lyle scoffed. “And I’ll make the most money here first!”

“Nonsense you no good son of a bitch!”

“Tie yourself in a knot, loony Loopty!”

“Roll in your grave, fat shit inventor!”

“Two robotic inventors?!” called a nearby voice. A steampunk blimp hovered in the air and a well-dressed snake demon appeared from a hole in his ship.

“Who is that guy?” Lyle Lipton asked.

“I’m the one and only Sir Pentious!” he declared. Several Egg Bois were steering his ship. The eye on his dark top hat peered at the other sinners in curiosity. “With my dominating machines, I aim to take over all of Pentagram City!” Then he muttered, “The repairs were a fucking nightmare to endure.” He glanced at the leftover cracks and holes on the metal sides of his ship.

“Oooh!” Loopty exclaimed in admiration. “I’ve only seen such inventions in old time history books. How long have you been here?”

“Since eighteen eighty eight!”

“Love the loopy numbers!” Loopty grinned, making three small eights with his contraptions. “I’m Loopty Goopty! Lyle is my could’ve been partner in crime but actually rival!”

“When you’re rich as me, who needs a dead partner!” Lyle exclaimed.

“You’re dead too, you know!”

“Where did you cowardly sinners get here?” Sir Pentious asked.

“Well we just got here,” Lyle called. “Experimenting on the poor made us millionaires! Just…be careful when messing with anti-aging machines. Made us both old.”

“A machine that changes one’s age?” Sir Pentious pondered. “That could prove to be ussseful in the future,” he hissed.

“Oh, you should join us, snake man!” Loopy suggested. “Or me, rather.”

Sir Pentious briefly glared. “Hmm. While I’m perfectly capable of spreading my constrictive terror on my own…I suppose having some…lackey sidekicks would suffice.”

“Don’t call us lackeys!” Lyle sneered. “And I’m not working with him!”

“Maybe if we briefly collaborate as a team…”

Lyle grumbled in annoyance.

After a moment, Sir Pentious sighed. “Okay, you may join me, but…”

He spread out his hood, revealing pink eyes. “Don’t even think about crossssing me.” He pulled his hood back. “Now go gather your contraptions and help me manage those scrambled fucking eggs!”

A bunch of eggs in top hats and suits rolled out and jumped on the two inventors, who were stunned.

Loopty then laughed evilly. “Inventors to inventors it is!”

Just then, I popped out of the ground in the room.

“Did someone say, I say inventors?! Name’s Wally Wackford, and I am lookin’ for creative new people to exploit! I mean employ.” I twirled my mustache with an evil grin.

At last, a chance to expand my business of the mass production of robotic Fizzarollis! All of Hell will go crazy when they get a chance to buy all the sex robots, the merchandise, everything...and all to profit ME!

“Everyone, stop fucking up my walls!” Blitzo yelled. “Moxxie’s gonna have to fix all this shit! Satan’s balls! First we deal with Heaven’s table-scraps, now this?”

I smiled. “Well I guess you can say, you say, you have a holey operation here, Blitzo!”

I slapped my knee and laughed at my own joke.

“Get out,” Blitzo muttered.

Soon I doubled down on the floor laughing. “Oh! I said, ‘o’!”

Blitzo yelled, “No, I’m serious, get the fuck out!”

Everyone in the room looked at Blitzo in shock and surprise.

0 0 0

And then, that one other time where I helped host the Harvest Moon Festival Pain Games!

Wally Wackford a.k.a. me…stood on the wooden stage, holding a gray microphone decorated with an eye in the center and small horns on the top. I wore my usual white shirt, vest, white pants and dark boots. I twirled my black cane and tipped my black top hat.

I spoke dramatically through the microphone.

“Welcome, I say welcome all to Wrath Ring’s annual Harvest Moon Festival! To kick things up, we have the great prince Stolas-a here to user in this here Pain Games!”

Stolas took the microphone from me and chuckled in slight embarrassment.

“How kind, Wackford.”

Stolas then addressed the audience. “Greetings tiny Wrath Ring imps. I hereby welcome you all to another year of celebrating the spoils of your labor that continue to feed the citizens of Hell!”

A crowd of imps glared at him and several boos were heard. Many of these Wrath imps were impoverished farmers who lived on scraps, meat or good crops if they were lucky. The food they worked so hard to produce was consumed by royalty and those in the other Rings. But the reward for their work was being underfed, underpaid and underappreciated instead. The unbalanced cycle had lasted for generations.

I, too, stared at Stolas with a glare in my eyes. That rich royal thinks he can parade around, doing whatever he wants. Well unfortunately for him, I have plans of my own. Once he sees what I’m capable of…

He will know who really rules the roost.

Stolas obliviously continued. “I’m happy to kick off the start of these games that will challenge the toughest imps to show their skill and dominance.” He did a little wave with his fingers. “Good luck to you all!” He noticed Blitzo in the crowd beside Moxxie and Striker and spoke lower. “Especially that sexy little one there! Yoo-hoo, Blitzy!”

“Oh fuck me,” Blitzo scowled.

A gun went off and the games began.

The first event was the race. Moxxie was instantly trampled by the other racers.

The second event was the high jump. Striker climbed over the high wooden ramp structure with ease and raced after Blitzo who jumped past him. Moxxie struggled to keep his balanced as he reached the top. He slipped down, trying to use his claws to hold on. He fell with a splash in a small puddle…and was promptly chewed on by a monstrous black and white shark with several red eyes.

The third event was an event with rope. Striker grinned as he held a tied up Blitzo. Blitzo’s arms, legs and horns were all tied up. Moxxie gulped as a stronger grinning imp tied him up with ease.

The fourth event was tug of war. The crowd cheered as the two teams pulled hard. Striker, Blitzo and Moxxie were on a team. Moxxie stumbled and fell into nearby water, where the shark attacked him again.

The fifth event was mud wrestling. Blitzo and Striker grinned as they wrestled each other, Striker getting the upper hand as he held Blitzo down, arms locked. Moxxie was instantly crushed in a football hurdle by a group of imps. As they got off of him, Moxxie sat up. And the shark leaped out of the water and over the fence.

“Mother fucker!” Moxxie screamed as the shark crushed him. (Moxxie somehow survived all this.)

I hopped back on stage.

“I say, I say for the first year ever, we have a tie, for the winner of the Harvest Moon Pain Games!”

Stolas took the microphone from me again.

“The winners are…Striker, and my darling Blitzy!” Stolas did a one-legged pose as the crowd cheered.

“Just say my name right!” Blitzo complained. He muttered “Fucking dick,” as he and Striker walked onto the stage.

0 0 0

After the event, I noticed that I.M.P. and Stolas had left. After sharing an undiscernible look with Striker, we parted ways.

I soon returned to a special place in Greed, tired but determined. I walked alone down dark hallways, torches burning green flames on either side. I wagged my pointed red tail.

I pushed open the double doors and came across a marvelous sight.

Gold. Heaps of it, just shining brightly all around the vast spacious chamber. Gold pillars held up the cavern-like ceiling, a chandelier made of bones and diamonds hung from above. There were chests of necklaces, precious gems, goblets and weapons of every shape and size. Hanging on a far wall, concealed in shadow were angelic weapons…at least half a dozen.

I stared around in amazement. Even Lucifer would be surprised if he could see this place.

I raced around and tossed the gold coins into the air. In a craze, I rolled around in a nearby pile of green dollar souls. With a grin, I stood up and stared with pride at the grinning face of the jester printed on there.

A face confident in his ability to deceive others, pursue wealth and bask in endless entertainment.

The grinning face was all too familiar…

…because it was my face.

Wally Wackford leaned his head back, mouth open in a high pitched shriek as dark magic flickered around him. The imp form fell and morphed into shadow. In the imp’s place, a large black beast with thick fur, razor sharp claws and red eyes decorating the body. The figure stood up on two powerful furry legs and sat comfortably in a giant golden throne that occupied the center of the chamber. Angular jester clothing of red, gold and purple stripes adorned the wolf body. And finally, a large spiked black crown sat atop the dark loopy jester hat with bells at the ends. A white and gold jester face showed sharp white teeth and glowing yellow eyes. Dark clawed hands juggled fresh demon skulls into the air and popped them into his large mouth. He crunched loudly before swallowing every bit.

My imp disguise was perfect. Literally no one else save for Robo Fizz and a few elites knew who was underneath. And even then, my magic was so powerful it could easily confuse anyone around me.

Being an imp has its advantages; you can travel anywhere and gather information along the way. You can track imps from a killing company and find out where they’ll likely travel to next. You can affiliate yourself with your own robotic creations, some slave imps and succubi…and then in your own form, work with a fellow Deadly Sin on the next stage.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Funny, really. Wally Wackford could easily be a separate being, born into poverty, learning to scam others at an early age and go up from there. I, however, didn’t need to learn anything…deceiving others and attracting material wealth was a natural talent. As was shapeshifting.

Lucifer might not be happy with me coping his idea of a theme park…but business is business…and in Hell, anything goes.

That incompetent prince Stolas would be dead soon enough. No more Goetia showoffs to get in the way of my rule and reputation. At least the prince’s wife was rightfully concerned with maintaining tradition that has existed for centuries. Aside from my dear friend Lucifer, I was, and should be, the most powerful being in Hell. I’ll keep exploiting those I choose because money is money.

Those I.M.P. assassins have no idea who they were dealing with.

I let out a crazed evil laugh, intermingled with a wolf’s howl. With a single touch of my hand, my nearby scepter turned into gold. I admired its shiny flawless sheen. Asmodeus, Leviathan, Lucifer, Satan, Belphegor, Beelzebub and myself…the Seven Deadly Sins…circus-loving rulers of the Overlords and in charge of maintaining chaotic order in our respective Rings.

I, Mammon, had much to do.

#wally wackford #helluvaboss #helluva boss theory #mammon

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lemonietrinket · 4 years

Text

played salty, playing sweet ||| seonghwa x reader

summary: you and seonghwa have a frenemies relationship—you’re friends, but boy do you bicker 24/7. one day though, seonghwa takes it a step too far. genre: angst! fluff at the end bc happy endings! warning(s): foul language at someone (2x f**k, 2x a**hole), a remark that makes fun of someone’s intelligence word count: 2390 an: sorry this is a bit late anon! i hope it was worth the wait though, i didn’t want to give you something that wasn’t quite good enough, so i figured an extra day wouldn’t hurt too much in the long term

~~~

“well at least i didn’t fail one of the easiest exams in the year.”

seonghwa had said it with a humorous glint in his eye. he’d turned away from you, watching the world outside go by aimlessly, all because he couldn’t handle looking at you too long, lest his heart fall out of his chest. you’d already caught him blushing once. it had been while eating ice cream in the park with hongjoong, when he’d spontaneously decided to tag along. as the drizzle rolled back yet left the odd heat behind, you’d made a mad dash for the truck, longing to do what you hadn’t done in so long. once the chocolate was in your hands, you had dived in while not paying attention, eyes fluttering off to the side to listen to hongjoong (seonghwa couldn’t remember what it was about, no doubt the exaggerated hundredth challenge eden had made him do back in predebut) and ended up with a dollop on your nose. the guffaw that fell from your lips was adorable, as you cackling, “what an idiot!” all while seonghwa stood, mesmerised by your happiness. he wished he could make it happen more often, and yet all that he could ever say was teasing remarks, which only ever worked on the odd occasion.

trapped in his memory, the corners of his lips, that had risen to the point he was very nearly laughing all over, again didn’t twitch as his head whipped round at the slam of a door.

eyes wary, seemingly aware of the wave of chaos that was about to crash upon the dorms, he looked to where you had been, and then nervously about the rest of the living room.

“y/n?”

there was no sign of you. all that his eyes met was the disappointed glare of his bandmate, slouched and curled so small on the sofa he was entirely easy to miss.

“you gone fucked up, hwa,” hongjoong announced simply to him.

“what...?” he stared at him, elfin eyes wide watching him closely. all while he himself was still lagging behind. “wait what—”

“you should go after them.”

his face fell into stony fear as the dread sank into the pit of his stomach, as heavy as lead. the jigsaw pieces began to slowly fit together. “go after...? but, they...”

he looked back to the empty archway where your beautiful figure had been just seconds prior, a baggy clashing jumper pulled over mustard sleeves and a black denim pinafore. it wasn’t your favourite outfit, he knew that, but he had to admit it was one of his. not that he’d ever gotten close to admitting a sliver of those thoughts to you. he’d never even harmlessly complimented you on it. or anything you wore, for that matter.

“let me put it this way hwa. if you don’t go and treat my best friend right for once i will make you.”

he knew that the leader was pulling his stern-dad-face that wasn’t convincing nor terrifying in the slightest, but seonghwa didn’t care. he was too busy cursing and leaping to his feet. he didn’t even bid him goodbye as he tore past.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

you sat hunched on the park bench, wrung iron icy at your back while the sun seemed desperate to vex you, piercing through a convenient gap in the clouds and straight into your eyes.

with shudders heaving through your body your fist remained tight at your mouth. the faint hisses of your frantically silenced cries were growing louder and stronger, and yet the woman strolling with a push chair down the path nearby still did not retrieve her child from the old-fashioned pavilion.

you shook your head slowly as you curled over, your forehead meeting your knees in a desperate attempt to keep quiet. the last thing you needed was a genuinely concerned stranger--their kindness would have you all-out balling like a child in an instant.

still, it would all come out at some point, in one form of another, and despite your wishes you didn’t get to dictate when.

“why would you say that, why would you say that, why would you say that,” you wailed in a whisper to yourself, the face of the man who had spoken engraved in your mind beyond erasure. maybe it was the place you were in that made it so strong, since this had been the place where you had eaten ice cream during the summer. despite all of your doubts and worries and constant analysis of the words he teased you with, there was no other explanation to the smile he had that day. there was no teasing in the way he grinned, nor was there anything less than sheer tenderness within it, and it was the one thing that held you tethered to whether you could be more than just the bantering friends you clearly already were. on the other hand, maybe it was just your lovesick state, exaggerating the tiny inflections of incessantly replayed memories, as the latest thing he’d said surely would cancel all that sweetness out.

a whimper released from your throat and you very nearly fell over the knife edge when your name was called over the late october air.

your head flew up before you could stop it, gaze bleary and encrusted with tears as the voice you heard lifted your spirits, only to let them plummet again like a rollercoaster.

he was running across the grass towards you, no coat to cover his arms, dark locks blustered about his face by the wind, before his feet were pounding the paving, coming to a slow and then a stop.

“y/n, i—”

as soon as he was stood before you, catching his breath with blushed cheeks and his onyx eyes searching yours, all those cries that you had blockaded within you burst through.

“you fucking asshole!” you screamed, words choked with sobs as you lurched to your feet. “you asshole! why the hell would you even go there?!”

seonghwa looked more winded than you did, heart crushed at what he’d done to you.

“do you forget i have feelings or something?!” you cried. your nails dug into your palms, the adrenaline pumping through your body beginning to shoot only up to your head. “do you know how hard i worked to study for that... that stupid... paper, i—”

it felt like all the blood in your body was trapped inside your skull at that moment. the realisation of rest of the world around you hit square in your gut, and your words gave way much like your feet did, leaving you to collapsed back onto the bench, your voice only giving sound to quiet sobs.

for a minute, he stood at the other side of the path in silence, guilt eating him up as he looked at the consequences of his cowardice. hongjoong’s words echoed in his head, as he despaired. there’s no way she’ll like you back now, he thought. taking a deep breath however, he made his way cautiously over to you, one step at a time. it was his fault, and it was time to take responsibility. he could still fix this situation, and that was much more important.

“y/n, i am so sorry,” he began gently, “back when your results came, i saw you smiling about it, laughing it off, i thought it was fair game...”

he reached the edge of the bench and the space left. it was big enough for him to fit, almost perfectly, but he continued to stand, a little distant to give you space. “i’m sorry, i should have listened to my intuition more, been more careful, should’ve paid closer attention.”

no matter how afraid i am to, he added in his head.

“i never meant to hurt you, but that doesn’t mean that it’s... all ok,” he finished, apologising once again, chewing at the inside of his cheek as he nervously waited for any response.

even with your head bowed you were absolutely stunning, how your hair caught the bright autumn sun and accentuated the beautiful face he knew so well. tear stained only made the urge to hold you stronger, to make you laugh more powerful. how had he gotten into this mess.

“why did you have to say that, seonghwa?” your words were threadbare, lilting like distant birdsong made up only of mountain echoes. your tears had not quite dried, cheeks rosy from the wind and his mistake, but your breath was more stable. “why do you always have to tease me? why can’t you... just say the nice things, the sweet things?”

he wasn’t aware of just how much of a leap you had made, and how your heart threatened to burst from your ribs at the dangers you had proposed for yourself. with fortune on your side however, they did not come, and seonghwa continued, discarding the urge to back down against what he had done for so long prior.

“i want to say them, i always do,” he explained hesitantly, trying to push through the murk of the truth and continue with the revelation he had discovered, “i was just... so afraid.”

“of what?”

your question was so simple and yet he couldn’t answer straight away. swallowing thickly, with it heavy upon his tongue, he tried his best. “of you not liking me back. of being made to look like an idiot for thinking i had...”

the wind rustled the trees who gossiped about the scene below by their roots. your eyes glanced up to see the mother and child nowhere to be found and you couldn’t help but wonder at what point they decided to leave, or whether they fled from the drama at all. you didn’t dwell on it though, there was no way you could with your crush stood waiting patiently for you to speak. he looked much like a kicked puppy, though he was trying to retain his cool by avoiding your gaze fully. although, he never looked away.

“you looked like an idiot anyway,” you finally answered, waiting for him to respond with a retort and assume everything was ok. but he didn’t. he remained quiet, waiting for you to finish. “just for a different reason.”

he nodded at that.

it never truly dawned on you that the play that you were enacting was actually for one, a confession, and two, real. that wouldn’t actually come until you opened your eyes an hour later after falling asleep upon that bench. instead, you continued to drift through reality, flowing with what felt right.

catching onto the fact he was waiting for your call, you shifted just slightly across the bench to beckon him to sit.

he perched on the edge of the iron at your side, a fair distance between you as he finally tore his eyes away, letting them settle across the small hills of the park. there wasn’t anyone in sight, the sun having gone in and leaving the cold to continue its infiltration into your bones.

thus, you shuffled across the bench, a fair bit in reality that he didn’t notice until the very end, when you were about to lean into to him.

“y/n...?”

you rested your head on his shoulder, the warmth he seeped reigniting your icy skin and fending off the numbness that had taken root there without you knowing. it felt natural to be there, laying against him, and he seemed to think so too, as he made no effort at all to stop you. in fact, he shifted himself further back, giving you more room, and let out the air he had gathered in his lungs for a blow he never received.

“i like...” you began, though you were stopped by the need to clear your throat, your sobbing having left it dry, “your leather jacket, back home. it looks so comfortable and... badass.”

you felt him look down to you, though you made no effort to crane your neck up to see what his expression was. you were quite comfortable enough where you were. soon though, he caught on. “i like your outfit today. it suits you really well.”

the joyous rush seonghwa felt after complimenting you was ineffable.

“your voice is really good. it’s so soft and clear.”

“i think your laugh is sweet. it’s adorable and i can’t help but smile when you i hear it.”

“i think you’re cute.”

“i think you’re gorgeous.”

a chill caught your shoulders and a shiver melded with your shy giggle that followed his words. within moments though, his arm is around you, holding you closer, protecting you from the autumn cold. it felt so right to finally be nice to one another, and tiredly staring off at the buffering canopies beyond, you regretted all the time you had wasted dancing around the subject in favour of the status quo.

“isn’t this much better?” you murmured finally, glancing up to catch a glimpse of hi handsome face at a new angle. “playing sweet?”

he peered down to meet you, a small smile upon his plush lips. it wasn’t as grand as the one on that bright summer’s afternoon, but it felt sincere all the same—etched with nerves from where he had bitten anxiously, teasing at his cheeks, a box grin in the making.

his hand, somehow hot against the approaching winter, rose to softly rest against your temple. he traced spirals into your skin there, delicately as if the wind could brush them away, before lifting to the corner of your eye. you’d long since finished crying, your eyes and nose tinted rouge—it would have been something that you would’ve been ashamed of, but the man’s doting caress was enough to push it far from your mind. despite the disappearance of your sorrow, the chrysalis of a tear, near complete, resided there. and so he wiped it away with the tip of his thumb.

shy at his touch, you ducked your head away from his tenderness, choosing to bury your nose in his neck instead. you felt his laugh roll through you, deep and calming, as his arms held you secure at his chest. and there, in the face of the cold autumn, you decided that you could stay like that for a bit longer.

~~~

an: idk if i like this yet. probably not.

once again i wrote this in drabble format thinking it would be short but then it was not. like always. why am i even surprised.

masterlist

#seonghwa #ateez #seonghwa ateez #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa angst #ateez fluff #ateez angst #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x reader fluff #seonghwa x reader angst #ateez x reader #ateez x reader fluff #ateez x reader angst #seonghwa oneshot #seonghwa drabbles #seonghwa imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez drabbles #ateez imagines

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imalifegen89 · 3 years

Text

A Legacy Left Behind - Chapter - 5 - The Gemmond Incident

Part 2

P3X-422 - Planet Gemmond

John was glad that he'd activated the stealth mode on the Jumper the moment he entered the Gate. He was pretty sure that was what kept them from getting blown to hell by the nasty-looking craft that flew past right in front of them.

"Sheppard!"

Lorne shouted out a warning even as Sheppard jinked the Puddle Jumper violently to the left to avoid colliding with the other Dart that came swooping down from above. The pointy little flyers looked like they were made of biological - or maybe organic stuff - combined with metal alloys. They emitted a loud whine while flying and John felt that the name 'Dart' would suit them nicely, what with them being so pointy. The design of the exterior of the flyers reminded John of the exoskeleton-like layers on the Wraiths. The moment that thought crossed his mind, he knew they were facing the Wraith. He wondered briefly why he wasn't experiencing the change that overtook him when he was in the vicinity of the Wraith. Then he realized the link with the Puddle Jumper was acting as a buffer, maintaining a safe environment for the moment, preventing the embedded instinct from taking over.

He kept flying the Jumper in a series of left, right turns and corkscrews until he was clear of the angry, buzzing nest of Darts that were flying randomly around the Stargate. The inertial dampeners thankfully kept everyone inside the Jumper from truly experiencing the g-forces Sheppard was pulling while flying. The previously clear screen in the front of the Jumper had now transformed into a transparent Heads-Up-Display, with the gathered data scrolling down, as the little ship ran its scanners on their surroundings. Everyone in the cockpit and the back of the Jumper was focused on the screen, trying to get a feel of the situation they had just flown into.

Sheppard didn't really focus on the HUD. He had it all in his mind, therefore he was completely focused on flying.

He finally managed to get the Jumper into a higher altitude, turn it around, and then hover. The ship had finished the scan and was informing him what it had found.

'There are five Wraith Darts in the immediate vicinity,’

Clever, little shit had picked up on the name, John thought fondly. He could feel the Jumper preening in the back of his mind at the praise.

“They appear to be flying at random as they try to pinpoint our location. The sixth Dart that was on the ground maintaining the dial-in, has now joined the others to continue the search.'

John could see the dimensions of the Dart appear on the interactive HUD with neat little labels on weak points, weapons, hull compositions, etc. He watched Lorne minimize the window on the Dart and bring up the map of the area again. Lorne was tracking the six Darts now flying around looking almost panicked, vainly searching for whatever had just come through the Gate.

"These are Wraith Darts." Lorne inhaled sharply the moment he realized what everybody was now looking at.

John felt Steve squeezing his shoulder in response to the other Major's exclamation. John knew he was asking whether they could maintain control without Steve having to ask the question out loud.

"It's alright Steve. We're good. The Puddle Jumper is acting like some sort of a buffer. We're not directly engaging the Wraith at the moment, so the imperative isn't going to take over as long as we are inside the Jumper," he assured Steve and Lorne. Lorne had started to go pale, realizing that he was going to go through his first 'Online Experience' before the day was over.

"They know someone's here - they've probably informed the others in the swarm by now. So I'm going to take us on a flyby over the city to see what these things are doing here in Gemmond," Sheppard announced, as he turned the Jumper back from the gate and pointed the nose towards the city.

..........

It took about a minute to get right above the city. There were fifteen Darts circling the capital city of Gemmond and Sheppard maneuvered right through their ranks to get to a higher altitude. He held the Jumper stationary while scanning the city below. They were all focused intently on the HUD.

It was carnage. It was horrendous.

The natives were all in states of absolute fear and sheer panic as they were all running around trying to get away from the Darts. The Darts were behaving in a certain pattern - They'd circle around the city, then the moment they noticed a cluster of people, one of them would swoop down on the huddle, emit a transparent yet shimmering transporter beam, fly over the group, dematerializing them and sweeping them up into the Dart. Then it would fly away and another Dart would take its place to repeat the same actions.

"It looks like these things are collecting the humans and taking them away for storage as if a farmer would herd his sheep into a barn, or scoop his chickens and drop them in a coop," Adam Noshimuri commented quietly, greatly disturbed by what they were witnessing.

"Let's follow the next one and see where they’re taking them. They’re not killing them, so they must be still alive somewhere," said Sheppard. He felt the anger rising in him as he watched the horrific scene unfolding beneath them. What was obviously a once-thriving city, was now in a state of chaos. Its citizens running around and screaming in fear instead of celebrating the fruits of their hard labor. Some buildings and structures seemed to have blown up or set on fire. Sheppard figured the Darts must have fired at the buildings to get the people out in the open, making it easier to hunt them. He unclenched his fingers that had unknowingly tightened around the flight controls and took a deep steadying breath. He was going to destroy each and every one of these Wraith assholes, he made a promise to himself.

Then another Wraith Dart suddenly swooped down to sweep another group of Gemmondians into its belly and started on a direct course away from the city. Sheppard abandoned their observation post and directed the Jumper after the Dart. They flew for about five minutes, passing a few cities, a couple of farms, and then a jungle terrain. Just after the Dart cleared the jungle, they could all see its destination ahead.

There was a bigger ship that had landed on the ground. The Jumper scanned the ship and scrolled the data on the HUD. It was made of the same organic/metal combined composites just like the Darts. It was only two-thirds of an earth warship in size. The Jumper identified it as a 'Wraith Dart Carrier', a slightly smaller spaceship than a 'Wraith Cruiser'. It had the capacity to carry thirty-five Darts but had only fourteen Darts inside it at the moment. The rest were away busy collecting humans and guarding the Gate. There were fifteen 'Wraith Drones' inside the ship for security and they had over one hundred live humans in captivity. There were two male Wraiths controlling the entire operation.

Sheppard was starting to feel the change slowly beginning to take over, responding to the Wraith atrocity that was right in front of them. He could see Lorne was still himself, but he knew it was going to change the moment they closed the distance.

"Alright, here's what we’re going to do. I'm going to follow one of those things in and land us inside somewhere clear of the Drones. You guys are going to separate into two teams, one take left and the other right. You go after the prisoners and take them out. Then lead them out of the ship and get everyone as far away as you possibly can."

Then he concentrated. Two interior hidden compartments opened and two small rectangular PDAs came out. Sheppard took one out as Lorne took the other. Then he activated the PDA which was actually an LSD, a life-sign-detector, with a thought and programmed it. He handed it to Steve over his shoulder. The LSD stayed active with its screen blinking and emitting a soft blue, despite the fact that it was in the hand of a non-gene carrier. Then he did the same to the other detector and handed it to Danny.

"I’ve programmed it to stay active for three hours. It’ll show you any Wraith-related life sign in a red dot and humanoid in a blue dot. You can also see a map inside the ship here. It’ll orient automatically as you move along and show you scales and dimensions."

Both the SEALs studied the instruments intently.

Then Sheppard focused his attention on the data on the Jumper screen. He went through a few information windows at speed and got the information on the Wraith weapons to the front and center.

"Steve, if you can get your hands on a few of these Wraith stunners, you should be able to stun them quietly and then shoot them. According to this, the stunners work on them better than bullets since the stunner attacks the nervous system while bullets just bounce off their skin." Steve and the rest of the group went through the data Sheppard pointed out quickly.

"What will you two be doing?" Danny knew the answer but asked the question anyway. He didn't like the fact that the two zoomies were going to turn into out-of-control killing machines the moment they touched the ground inside the ship.

"You know we’re going to go after the Wraiths; it won't help any of us if they manage to get into your heads and turn us all against each other. We’ll close in and engage them directly, keeping them distracted while you carry out the prison break. Radio in the moment you clear the ship, we’ll finish them and get back to the Jumper. Once you're all clear from the blast area, I’ll blow this thing to hell." Sheppard laid out the plan.

They had all practiced war games on scenarios such as this and Sheppard had the tactical lead on this mission as it was Wraith-related. They were all well-versed in the comms codes they'd be using once they were on the ground, keeping chatter to a minimum. Sheppard only outlined the rough plan, knowing the SEALs, the Agents, and the Marines were all capable of taking care of smaller details on the go as they carried out the mission.

"Just saying, man, you two are the only ones who can fly this tin can and I don't want to walk all the way back - I've got a bad knee," replied Danny pointing at his right leg with the fake ailment, looking quite serious. Sheppard recognized the unvoiced message hidden inside: 'be safe and get back in one piece.’

He gave a smile and got ready to fly the jumper in, right on the tail of the Dart. It was just entering the ship through an entrance on the cargo bay which had slid open, recognizing the Dart that was closing in on it. Steve and the rest of the team quietly got ready, mentally preparing themselves for the task in front of them.

Inside the Wraith Dart Carrier

Planet Gemmond

Sheppard had followed the Dart inside the Carrier and then taken them closer to the bulkheads above to see what it was doing.

The Dart had entered the spacious cargo area and then carried out a low sweep, depositing its terrified cargo. The newly re-materialized, scared, and panicked group of Gemmondians were then herded further into the ship by the Drones that were waiting for them. They used the pointy ends of their stunners to poke and prod the prisoners until they moved along the path presumably leading to their cells.

The Jumper now had a detailed map of the interior and was showing them the cells area, cargo bays, the bridge, the living areas for the Wraith and the Drones. Sheppard slowly guided the Jumper further inside until they came to a secluded area. It was a food storage bay for their human cargo and was not under guard at the moment. It had enough space to land the Jumper.

Once they all got out, Sheppard locked the back door and turned to face the group. Everybody took a collective step back noticing the expression on his face.

Sheppard was different. His normally bright and hazel eyes had gone completely dark, pupils blown, almost swallowing up the entire sclera. His expressive face was blank, lips flattened in a tight line and his head cocked to the side slightly, as if he was listening to something far away. His demeanor was decidedly more alien and predatory than human.

Lorne wasn't much better. But he looked downright normal compared to John. His pupils were enlarged to a point to cover only his irises. Not the entire eye looking like a black hole like Sheppard's. And he looked somewhat pale and afraid which was much more easier to digest than Sheppard's visceral metamorphosis into a deadly, alien hunter.

"Go free the humans," said Sheppard. His voice was quite different from his usual lazy drawl and now had a deep and vicious quality to it. With that he turned and took off through a tunnel exit leading towards the middle of the ship, way faster than any of them could match, with Lorne following closely behind.

..........

"Fuck," said Danny softly. Steve felt that it was an apt description of what they had just witnessed. They had all known about this, but seeing it for the first time was an entirely different experience. He didn't know whether to be disturbed, happy, or scared. He had plenty of reasons for all those emotions. But he firmly pushed all those thoughts away to deal with later. For now, they all had a job to do. They were on a timer and they had to move fast to make the maximum use of the elements of stealth and surprise they had on their side at the moment. So he signaled everyone to separate into two teams and move.

..........

Steve cautiously led his group towards the left side of the Carrier. 'Spaceships are supposed to be cool. This one’s a nasty piece of crap.' He complained to himself. The interior was dark with a red hue, thanks to the membranous interior, with what looked like veins spread inside them. It gave off the feeling of being inside the belly of a beast instead of a spaceship. Steve thought that he saw the soft tissue-like areas of the bulkheads moving at random intervals as if the thing was breathing. It made a creepy sort of sense because according to the data on the LSD, these ships were grown out of bio-organic materials and then blended with metal alloys to make them space-worthy. It also had a strong, pungent, almost rotting smell that reminded him of a carcass of a dead animal. Steve suppressed the shudder at the thought of walking inside a cadaver.

Then the screen on his Detector flared for a brief moment, alerting him of the incoming three Drones only a few yards away from a corridor to their left. He had a few seconds to act before the Drones took the turn and came face-to-face with them.

He quickly signaled Adam to come over and give him a boost. Steve lightly stepped on his cupped palms and pushed himself up, hanging onto the narrow ledge that was protruding out of the wall. It ran horizontally along the wall about 7 ½, maybe, 8 feet above the ground. It seemed to be a part of an interior major vein/pipeline system and was sturdy enough to support his weight. At Steve's signal, Bates boosted Adam onto the ledge directly in front of Steve and then quickly retreated to hide in the small alcove they just walked past with Cadman.

Steve hauled himself onto the ledge and stood straight, plastering his torso against the wall, the narrow ledge barely supporting his footing. Adam positioned himself on the ledge on the opposite side of the narrow corridor and gave Steve a nod. Steve glanced at the LSD once more, started a mental countdown of seconds, and placed it inside his tac vest. Then he took his K-bar out and got ready to face the Wraith Drones.

Just when he reached six on his mental countdown, the three Wraiths took the turn and stepped into the corridor Steve and Adam were waiting. They were staring straight ahead as they walked, oblivious to the threat that was hanging above them. Just as the trio walked past them, Steve and Adam made their move.

Adam jumped onto the back of the Drone that walked closest to his position and landed on its shoulder. He wrapped his knees around the Drones’ upper body and drove his knife into its exposed throat twice in rapid succession. Then he switched hands and stabbed it again on the other side of the neck for good measure. The whole thing took about five seconds and the Drone slowly sank into its knees, the stab wound to the enzyme sack on its neck proving fatal.

He looked up to see Steve finishing up his Wraith Drone in the same manner. The third Drone was frozen in shock and it took a few seconds to move towards Steve, his stunner pointing at the SEAL team leader's face. But that few seconds’ delay proved to be a fatal mistake. Steve dropped to the ground and extended his leg, sweeping it in an arch along the floor, catching the Drone on the foot and toppling it over. The Drone landed on the floor on its butt and Adam didn't waste any time dragging his knife along the thing's neck, splitting it open and killing it where it lay.

Then they dragged the bodies to the side and propped them up against the wall. They collected the three stunners the drones had dropped and Steve tapped his comms to let the others know to join them. Now armed with more effective stunners, they continued towards the holding cells where the captive humans were held.

They reached the cells without running into more Drones. The six Drones that were standing near the cramped cell area were quickly dispatched with Stunner fire to their heads followed by quiet shots to the necks with suppressed MP7s. Bates made quick work on the cell door by shooting at the keypad-like thing with his suppressed handgun. The cell door retracted with a sickly noise.

"Hello people, we’re with the SGC, you need to move now and come with us, we’re going to get you guys out of this messy place," Cadman had a ready smile on her face while she talked to the scared and pale Gemmondians. Then they broke out of their frozen stupors, finally recognizing the uniforms of their allies, the Tau'ri, and they all started spilling out of the cell eagerly. Cadman managed to keep them quiet, celebrations at being rescued to a minimum, got them all out and paired them up efficiently. She signaled that they were ready to leave, and Steve, who was keeping watch, acknowledged. Then they all started moving towards the closest exit out of the ship with Steve and Adam in the front, the fifty or so Gemmondians in pairs in the middle along with Cadman, and Bates taking the rear keeping an eye on their six.

..........

Danny's team was having a bit of hard luck. They had been edging towards the right side of the ship and managed to dodge a few Wraiths by taking cover, thanks to the advance warning received from the LSD. Now they were facing a problem. They were all taking cover behind a small wall that was jutting out from the floor and peering over to observe the holding cell. They could see there were about fifty people crammed in the entirely too tiny cell and there were five Drones milling about in the area. They needed to distract the Drones and lure them away from the vicinity of the cell, so Kono and Vega could take the shots from their positions.

A quick rock, paper, scissor session elected Danny Williams for the bait. He sighed and started to crawl back from the safety of their cover to reach the corridor that ended at the cells. Then he stood up and walked back in the corridor about a ten-meter distance from the cell. Once positioned in the middle of the corridor now in plain view, he waved at the Drones with a grin on his face to get their attention.

"Oi you, fuck-face, where's the.." He didn't even get to finish the question as the Drones all reacted. They all adjusted their weapons to face Danny and came running towards him.

'Oh, you aren't very bright, are you?' Danny had a few seconds to shake his head in sympathy before they started firing their stunners. Kono and Vega, who were ready with their rifles primed, but couldn't risk the shots earlier because of the prisoners, now had clear lines of sight to fire. They dropped three Drones with shots to the necks before the Drones even had the chance to fire. One Drone got a shot off as Danny threw his knife at it. Then he dove off to the side to dodge the stunner fire. He only partially succeeded. Vega finished off the remaining Drone as Kono shot the Drone that was already on the ground writhing with Danny's knife buried in its neck, killing it. Higgins came running towards Danny to see whether he was okay.

"Ah man, I can't feel my shoulder, please tell me I still have a shoulder." Danny was concerned. He wasn't panicking at all, not really - just very very concerned about his shoulder which he really couldn't feel anymore.

“Yeah, man, you're good. It only grazed you. Not even a tear on the uniform to show for it. You'll get the feeling back soon.” Higgins was palpitating his shorter colleague's shoulder with a chuckle. Danny could be a downright diva when it came to field injuries.

Danny moved his own gun to the back with the help of Higgins and picked up a stunner with his left hand. His entire right arm was going to be out of commission for a while. They all armed themselves with a newly acquired stunner and moved towards the prisoners. They had to move quickly. They were not sure whether the dead Drones somehow managed to send out an alert that there were intruders on board.

Kono and Vega got busy getting the prisoners out of the cell to move. They quickly organized the now big group and started their trek towards their closest exit with Danny and Higgins in the front, and Kono and Vega taking the rear while keeping the newly rescued bunch of Gemmondians safely in the middle.

#fanfiction series #stargate atlantis #steve mcgarrett #john sheppard #ao3fic #cross over #hawaii five 0 #stargate #fiction #my writing #writers on tumblr #bamf!John Sheppard

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takeflight-hermitcraftau · 4 years

Text

Chapter 4- Eye of the beholder

Tw: none

“Come on Grian. You need to lay down.”

“Mumbo I’m not a child.”

Grian was trying to get up, to go work on his base. But Mumbo practically strapped him down into a bed. “Grian. You have a fever, and are actually hot enough to cook an egg on.” Mumbo said. Grian grinned widely.

“Thanks mate.” He said with a soft chuckle. Mumbo’s eyes widened and he smacked the sick man’s arm.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” He huffed. Grian looked around. Oh, when did he get into Mumbo’s base? He could hardly remember anything. He tilted his head away from Mumbo before sneezing into his arm.

“Why...Why am I here?” He asked, “And not my own base?”

“So I can work on mine and make sure you’re okay at the same time. Scar’s working with lava and he didn’t want someone with a fever to be near hot objects for too long. You got here after you passed out on us for a second time. So I picked you up and brought you here.” Mumbo said, standing above the newest hermit. His arms were crossed over his chest and his hip was jutted out. The position drew a giggle from Grian’s lips when he saw it, and he sighed gently.

“So… I essentially have Mumbo Jumbo as my maid?”

“Well. No. I’m not wearing a maids dress for you.”

“Awww come ooon!!! It would really make me feel better.” Grian said cheekily. Mumbo sighed.

“Positive?”

Grian couldn’t believe his ears. This felt like Christmas and his birthday mixed into one! He had to school his shocked expression, before nodding. “Absolutely!” He said, before coughing into his elbow. “I can send you the outfit.” He said. And Mumbo was slightly confused and VERY interested why Grian had a maid’s dress on hand. He saw the sudden notification pop up on his communicator. He sighed, but when to go make his new best friend happy.

Grian was grinning ear to ear, his eyes were glowing with chaos as he tried not to laugh hysterically. He watched Mumbo walk of into the little room behind his spawner, and laid down with his eyes facing the ceiling to let the other get dressed in peace. He could hear the mustached man complaining loudly, yelling about how he couldn’t even get the damn thing on. He covered his mouth as he listened to this, only having to wait another 15 minutes before Mumbo walked out of the little side room.

It was short on him. Definitely so. But it was a classic esque black and white maids dress, with a very poofy skirt and a little cat head cut out into the chest, of which Mumbo had exposed. Mumbo’s black wings complimented everything nicely, the iridescent color showing in the torch light. Grian grinned widely, his eyes trailing down the others long ass legs. “D...Do you shave-?” He asked with a small chuckle, sitting up.

Grian almost instantly fell back down again, his head spinning and his body feeling weak. “Woah there!” Mumbo ran over, the dress bouncing with his movements, “Don’t sit up okay? You might not have enough water in your system.” Mumbo said, digging in his inventory and pulling out a few water bottles and bread. “Eat and drink something okay?”

Grian looked up and down Mumbo, grinning widely. “Yes maid~” He teased lightly. Mumbo rolled his eyes as his face went bright red.

“What? You want me to call you master now?” He joked, and Grian laughed loudly. Or tried too, before coughing violently into his arm and groaning. Mumbo sighed, pressing a hand to Grian’s head. “Oh dear, you’re still burning up. I’ll call Iskall over to bring some ice okay?” He said, his voice gentle and full of concern. Grian nodded, turning onto his side and stretching out his wings. Mumbo looked down at the brilliant red color, and absentmindedly pet the shooter limb. He jolted when he felt Grian shudder.

“Oh-! Sorry I should’ve asked.” He said, looking away. He knew it was rude to do it. So why did he?? Grian just laughed softly, exhaustion getting the better of him.

“Oh no. Don’t worry. Actually… um… Can you maybe… keep going-?” He mumbled, unsure of how to phrase himself. Mumbo chuckled, sitting down on his legs. Grian folded his wings against his back again, and hummed softly as Mumbo started to gently pet them.

Oh god, when was the last time he had such a… calm, domestic moment?? He couldn’t remember. Grian sighed, his eyes pulling to a close as his body tried to drag him into sleep. “Ah ah ah.” Mumbo’s voice cut through the serine moment. “No sleeping until you at least finish one bottle of water.” He said. Grian whined, taking a bottle and downing its contents. He heard Mumbo chuckle.

“If you forced me into a maids dress I can force you to drink water.” Mumbo rested his head against the bed, mindlessly petting Grian’s wings whilst thinking of redstone creations he could make this season. He had an idea for a shop, but it was vague. He only knew he wasn’t it to be huge, and sell everything. Looking down at his communicator he hummed, messaging Iskall to ask if he could get some ice to help calm down Grian’s fever. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the calm atmosphere. He felt connected to Grian, in an odd way. As if they met before in a past life, or some odd romantic crap like that.

He shook out his thoughts, looking over to Grian. The smaller hermit snored in his sleep, and he chuckled. “Goodnight Grian.” He said softly, standing up. He walked over to a mirror, looking at himself in the glass.

“Huh. I’m not too shabby now am i?” He asked no one, twirling his hips and watching the dress bounce and spin with his movements. It was honestly a little… short, on him. It went to about mid thigh on him. But he couldn’t help but think how absolutely adorable Grian would look in this. Then his mind wandered. “Wait… why does Grian have this anyways?” He asked, looking down at it. “Ya know… I don’t wanna know.” He said softly, looking back to Grian. “But at least it made him smile.” He sighed, running a hand through his slicked back hair. “At the cost of my dignity.” He chuckled, turning around and walking back over to the sleeping man. He took the bed and water off the bed, putting them back into his bag before he sighed, sitting down next to him- crossing his legs of course he’s no heathen.

Mumbo climbed out of his starter base to start working on his mega base, just completely chill in working with a dress on. What? It was comfortable. It let his legs breathe more. He paused after around an hour of work, hearing loud coughing from underground. He quickly flew down to check on Grian, shooting Iskall another message asking for ice. He got down and saw Grian was sitting up, coughing into his elbow. The sort of barking cough that leaves your throat sore.

“Grian lay down, I’ll get you some healing potions.” Mumbo said, Grian shook his head.

“Mumbo… I wanna work on my base.” He said, clearing his throat and going to stand up. His legs shook under his own weight, and Mumbo walked over and picked him up, plopping him onto the bed again.

“Not until you’re better.” He said, and Grian just stubbornly went to stand back up again. Mumbo- absolutely not thinking about his actions- just pushed Grian back down and sat on top of him. His legs on either side of Grian and forcing him to stay down. The red winged hermit grunted at the weight, whining.

“Uhh what do we have here-?” The two squeaked and looked behind Mumbo, seeing Iskall holding a shulker box with the a bright red, flustered face, and a slightly amused smile. Mumbo looked down at the situation just as Grian looked up, the two yelping as Mumbo scrambled to get off Grian.

“NOTHING!” The two shouted, their faces bright red and Mumbo hiding himself with his wings. Iskall laughed loudly at the scene in front of him, head thrown back and arms around his stomach sort of laugh. The other two couldn’t help but join in. They were only interrupted when Grian erupted into a harsh coughing fit again.

Iskall rushed over, placing down the shulker box and pulling out some towels, wrapping the ice up and pressing it against Grian’s head. The two watched as Grian relaxed, his eyes closing. “Oh that’s nice.” Grian mumbled, not even realizing he was talking. Mumbo chuckled slightly.

“Now you better stay in bed Grian! You’re gonna pass out if you stand up again.” Mumbo fretted. Iskall glanced at him.

“He’s been trying to do stuff?” He asked, being able to feel the heat radiating off of Grian. Mumbo just nodded with a sigh. “Alright. How about you change out of that ridiculous outfit, and I make sure Grian stays in bed.”

“I’m right here you know.” Grian huffed, but made no effort to move his head away from the cold Iskall was bringing him. God it really did feel nice. Iskall laughed, and Mumbo just rushed off in embarrassment to change out of the outfit Grian had given him.

“Soo.. You’re into maids huh?” Iskall asked, opening his huge brown and white wings. Grian could just barely see a bit of a golden tint to them as well. He stretched out the huge things, and Grian could hardly answer his question, just mesmerized by the beautiful appendages. “Grian?” Iskall looked at him, and Grian snapped out of it.

“Oh! Uh, no, No i’m not. I just thought it be funny. Which it was.” He chuckled, grinning widely. Iskall laughed and nodded, turning around and leaning his side against the bed. He maneuvered his wings so one of them laid over Grian; effectively keeping him down. Grian started down at the feathers.

“Yes you can.”

Iskall’s voice made him jump again, but he nodded, moving his arm out from under Iskall’s wing and running his hand over the smooth, fluff filled feathers. Iskall folded his arms on the bed, leaning his head against them and just closing his one eye. Mumbo came back and gasped at the sight.

“How come I didn’t think of that!” He asked. Iskall laughed.

“Cause you’re an absolute spoon.”

~~~

Scar climbed down the ladder into Mumbo’s base. “Hey Mumbo how’s Grian doing?” He asked, not getting an immediate response. He turned around, and his heart practically melted.

The three hermits were either on or leaning against the bed, the three of them asleep. Iskall and Mumbo had a wing draped over Grian, with the blond hermit asleep. His forehead was covered in a soaking wet towel, and the three of them snored softly in their sleep. Scar chuckled, quietly walking over and around Iskall. He took the cold wet towel off Grian’s head, pulling one out of his inventory and wiping off the water from Grian’s head. He opened the shulker box next to Iskall, and nodded when he saw it was completely insulated on the inside, and the ice was still perfectly frozen.

“Oh you three, you there are definitely gonna be something huh?” He asked with a soft chuckle. He put down a shulker box of carrots he brought from the shopping district, wrote a note telling the three to eat when they woke up, and climbed back out of the underground base.

~~~

“The avian’s are all there?”

The beings voice echoed gently. The being in question was tall, slim, and elegant. Their voice matched this perfectly, although having a slight venom in it. The word ‘avian’ was spat out of their mouth as if it were a slur.

“Yes you’re Watchfulness.” A man bowed before the great being, not daring to make eye contact with them.

“STOP! PLEASE! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” Another voice from across the room sobbed. It was a man, clad in purple and gold robes, with dark brown skin, blond hair, and baby blue eyes. He was locked in a cage, a cage specifically meant to keep him trapped. “HES MY SON I-”

“SILENCE!” The being roared, and the celled man winced, but kept his grip on the bars in front of him. “Builder. You know as well as I do that the avians need to be eradicated. Emotional attachment or not.”

“But why?! Just because their smarter than the average human?! I-” The celled man, Builder, asked. Tears were slipping down his face. He didn’t want his son to die.

“That is enough out of you. Guards. Send him down to the jail again.”

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